Let us not, season with the happiness of individuals. however, on this account, charge Jehovah with lack of wisdom or of love in the arrangements which he has made, but rather remember with deep contrition of soul the humiliating fact, that our sins have interfered with the operation of a government which, in their absence, would have secured, at the same time and for ever, the greatest happiness of the whole, and of each of its component parts. Now it is the operation of these laws, under these circumstances, which has made those individuals poor for whom we this evening solicit your contributions. Some of these laws I will briefly notice. 1. It is a general law, that the condition of children should be greatly affected by the character and circumstances of their parents. This position will be neither questioned nor denied. The proof lies 'scattered in ample profusion over all communities and nations, and is as ancient as the world. It is a revealed truth that the condition of every descendant of Adam, in consequence of the fall, has been rendered degraded and painful. The ground has been cursed with sterility, and covered with thorns; the beasts of the field have been suffered to roam wild and untractable; the atmosphere has been infected with noxious damps and pestilential vapours; disease, pain, and death, in all their varied forms, have been entailed upon our race. And, what is still more lamentable, man by the fall lost the moral image of his God. "The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint," and man manifests the unnatural appetite which this sickness has created, in hating holiness and in loving sin. The sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve will be, "to the last syllable of recorded time," proofs of the universality of this great law. You may witness its operation on a narrower scale. In the circles of society in which we daily move, we sèé the children of the worthy and the virtuous honoured and beloved for their parents' sakes. And when the father is called to "go up higher," his mantle falls upon his children. The son who receives it, and preserves it free from every taint of dishonour and vice, has a robe richer than one that is wrought of purple, and inwoven with gold. The latter may attract the gaze of the thoughtless crowd; but the former secures the confidence and esteem of the wise and good. So if a mother has stained the honour, and laid aside the virtue which were her shield in life, the daughter must share in her shame. She is treated with coolness, and beheld with distrust, by the virtuous of her sex, not on account of her own, but of her mother's vices. Long must her character be proved, before the circles of the virtuous will greet her welcome to their joys. We see the children of our neighbours varying widely in their prospects and circumstances, simply because the same difference marks their parents. Some are well educated and established in business, while others are poor and ignorant. The children whose beseeching eyes are turned toward this society for assistance are as innocent as your own; they would be as cheerful and engaging, had not Providence made them the offspring of the poor and unfortu nate. You cannot blame them for their poverty; they suffer not from guilt, not from choice. Had it been left with them to choose their lot, you may be well assured that they would not now entreat your compassion. And can you withhold from them your sympathy and your charity, since the operation of the same great law hath made them wretched which hath made both you and your families happy? Father of the friendless! forgive the neglecter of the innocent poor! 2. That the capabilities and facilities of men should differ, is another general law. That there is a great diversity in the talents of men, is a position which has so long been maintained, and so fully proved, that it does ́ not now admit of a question. This diversity is seen not only in the higher departments of mind, but also in common business and household affairs. There are some individuals who are destitute of many requisites for success in life. They are honest and industrious, but always unsuccessful and poor; while many, far inferior in every virtuous trait of character, roll proudly in affluence, or recline effeminately in ease. The wind is always against them, and they have no skill to beat against it, or to scud before it. The tide, too, “which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune," sets in with resistless fury against them, and, unless assisted by a friendly hand, they must founder. Poor unfortunate souls! they may provoke our smiles, but they should move our pity! For theirs is the toil of labour, with few of its rewards; theirs the clouds and storms of life, with few of its sunny mornings or moonlight evenings. But they do the best they can; this is all their Maker requires-all that you should demand. 66 Be ye merciful as your Father also is merciful." That they cannot appear well in life, and move smoothly through its checkered scenes, is their misfortune, not their fault; for could they have been consulted respecting the talents which should be intrusted to them, they would now be preparing themselves to be appointed "over ten cities." It is God who hath made them to differ. Impeach not His wisdom, by passing by them with indifference or cold disdain ! So in the changes which are daily taking place among us, we see some individuals overwhelmed in a moment with misfortune. The hard-earned gains of many a weary day are consumed by fire, or pilfered by remorseless debtors. Others supported their families with ease by the proceeds of a profitable trade; but suddenly, by the introduction of the improvements of the age, or by the decreasing demand in the market, the business once good is worthless. Some rise above these misfortunes, and engage in other branches of industry; while others, such is their constitution, sink under them. They have neither heart nor hands to try another path, though certain that the way they follow will lead to pinching want. These are the chances of life! and when they end in misfortune and poverty, who will withhold the tear of pity? who the hand of cheerful relief? God grant this lot may never be yours, my hearer; but if it fall upon you, may you be able to say, "That mercy I to others show'd, 3. It is a law of our nature, that old age should unfit us for care and labour. Youth is the season of preparation for the cares and duties of life, manhood for its bustling scenes and arduous labours, old age for its calmness and repose. Hence our physical and mental powers increase till we reach the proud summit of life's little hill, and then decrease as we travel downward to the grave. So yonder sun increases in splendour and glory till he reaches his zenith; but as he descends the western sky, his effulgence wanes, his fires forget their fervour, till at last, with all the gentle mildness of the sweet star of evening, he pillows his head to rest upon the bosom of the setting cloud. Who that has seen the gray-haired veteran tottering toward the grave will deem him fit to enter again upon the busy scenes of life? With him the sun, and the light, and the moon, and the stars, are darkened, and the clouds return after the rain. He has reached the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men bow themselves, and those that look out of the windows are darkened. Eccles. xii, 2, 3. Who that beholds him, as hosts of infirmities surround him, will sum mon him again to till the ground, and, by the sweat of his wrinkled brow and furrowed cheeks, procure his bread? Who would trouble that spirit, already affected by its long and painful sympathizings with the infirmities of its earthly tabernacle-that spirit which must so soon return to the God who gave it, and which needs all its energies for the great scene before it? Who would perplex that spirit with cares for the sustenance of the body which, in a day or two, "shall return to the earth as it was ?" Aged pilgrim, thou shalt not be thus afflicted; thy wants shall all be supplied. But I hear him say, as the big tear courses down its accustomed channel, "Mine was no easy lot in life. I toiled from early morn to starlight eve, but misfortune and sickness kept me always poor. Nothing of my scanty wages could I lay by me for the hour of need, and old age has found me in poverty. Nothing can I now call my own but these tattered garments, and a seat-O that I might soon occupy it!—a seat in heaven. God has also suffered me to outlive my friends. I am an aged hemlock,' and the generation which sprang up after me, and which I sheltered with my boughs, is cut down. My wife and children have gone before me to the eternal world. Thus alone and friendless, who will supply my wants? Who will warm, and feed, and shelter me, amid the howling winds and chilling snows of the winter of the year, and the winter of my life?" Come hither, poor old man! Thou art innocent in thy sufferings, and none shall dare reproach thee for thy poverty! Here are thy friends. Thy God hath raised up this society to provide for thee, and warmed the hearts of this people to pity thee. Thou shalt not be forsaken! 4. The last general law to which I will advert is, that diseases and death should make their ravages among us, regardless of our temporal condition. Our own observation and painful experience are the melancholy proof by |