These exceptions rare.

First direction.

appetites of the husband and father may be supplied. The orphan child, too, is often, very often, left friendless and alone,—to be saved by Christian charity, or else to go to utter ruin. I should be sorry, indeed, if any individuals of these classes, should read the remarks in this chapter, and imagine that they could be intended to have any bearing upon them. If there is any moral spectacle, which can make the heart bleed, and bring tears of compassion into the eye, it is to see a broken-hearted wife and mother, toiling in vain to procure food and clothing for her defenceless children, and to shelter them from exposure to vice and ruin, while their insane and brutal father is raving in the streets, with flushed cheeks, and glazed eyes, and muttering voice, during the day, and turning his home at night into a scene of terror and despair. And then, to think, that for such ills, there is and there can be no earthly remedy. Our sympathy, our aid, our encouragement may give a little alleviation; it is, however, but little after all. The bitter cup we cannot sweeten nor take away.

These cases, however, much as every Christian philanthropist will feel for them, he will find comparatively rare. They are exceptions to the general rule, that want is ordi-. narily the punishment of idleness, improvidence, or vice. Still, to relieve it, is an important part of our duty, and we shall devote the remainder of this chapter to some brief rules and cautions, by which we ought to be guided in discharging it.

1. The distress must be relieved if possible. Whatever doubts and difficulties there may be, about making formal and systematic preparations for taking care of the poor, and however justly the sufferings of the poor may generally be considered as the result of their own improvidence and vice, yet, when real distress actually comes, we must immediately do all in our power to relieve it. No matter whether the sufferer is innocent or guilty. No matter whether he has brought calamity upon his head, or is suffering ills

Suffering vice and suffering virtue.

A caution.

which no foresight could have avoided. It is enough that he is suffering, and that we have power to relieve him.

In fact, in some points of view, suffering vice is a greater object of compassion than suffering virtue. In the former case, there is nothing to alleviate,—nothing to sustain or console; but the heart is overwhelmed with the sorrows and sufferings which press upon it from without, and yet finds nothing but gloom and desolation within. For a man to find misery before and around him, staring upon him, in the ruins of what was once a happy home, driving his wife to despair, and starving his children,—and then to feel that it is all the result of his own folly and sin, must be wretchedness indeed. If we can relieve it, it must be relieved. The Savior has set us the example. We must stop the pain, and then, by the strongest moral means which we can bring to bear upon his heart, we must bid the sufferer sin no more.

We may, therefore, lay it down as one simple and universal rule, that when we find suffering,--real, unquestionable suffering, we have no doubts and queries to raise about the character or the desert of the sufferer. Whenever and wherever we find it,-no matter what is its cause, or who is its victim,-we must relieve it if we can.

2. We must take care that we correctly understand the case: so that we may know how great the real suffering is. In this respect we must guard against two dangers. First, being deceived by the sufferer, and, secondly, deceiving ourselves.

First. No persons, excepting those who have had a great deal of experience, and, together with it, a great deal of knowledge of human nature, and of shrewdness in understanding its movements, can form any conception of the extent to which the Benevolence of Feeling is duped in this world. The Benevolence of Principle is not so easily deceived That there must be, from the very nature of the case, such deception, any one will see by a moment's

Suffering virtue uncommon.

thought.

Artifices of the vicious.

The wretched and destitute in this world are, in a vast majority of cases, the depraved and abandoned in character. It may seem harsh to say it, but every one who has had any opportunity for judging knows it is true. Virtue suffering real want, is seldom to be found excepting in poetry and fiction. It is in this way, that this becomes true, either it is vice which makes a man wretched, and brings him down from the position he might have occupied, or else, if the inevitable circumstances of his lot bring him to a condition of wretchedness, they do, at the same time, as the world now goes on, expose him to influences which almost inevitably make him depraved. When therefore we see an object of misery coming to us for relief, it is very unsafe for us to believe, too readily, that he is an honest man.

In

Still, as I have said under the preceding head, this is no reason why he should not be relieved, if he is really a sufferer. It is no reason why we should pronounce him a bad man, or say any thing or do any thing to lead him to suppose that we consider him so. It is only a reason why we should be on our guard. fact we ought not to consider him, as an individual, bad. We ought not to decide the question at all, till we have evidence which applies to the particular case. Our feeling should be, that the question whether the applicant before us is a good man or a bad man is yet undecided, but that probably, when we come to have evidence on the point, we shall find that it will not be in his favor, and that therefore we ought to be on our guard.

A volume might be filled with details of the contrivances of artful men and women, and of children taught all the practices of depravity at an early age, to feign wretchedness, and at the same time to assume the semblance of virtue. They will put forward into display every sign and indication of suffering they can think of. They inure themselves to hardships that they may exhibit themselves

Hypocrisy.

Danger of deceiving ourselves.

in the endurance of them. They know too, generally, that it is from Christians alone that the suffering have much ground of hope, and they soon learn the language of seriousness, or of piety itself, that they may awaken a moral interest in their behalf in the hearts of Christian benefactors. They can talk of their sorrows, their trials, their temptations, their hard struggles with the ills of their lot, and by means of the confidence which the language of piety obtains for them in the hearts of others, they procure the means and the stimulants which carry them on with redoubled rapidity in the career of depravity. This may seem severe. The benevolence of sentiment and feeling will perhaps exclaim against it; but the most experienced and the most indefatigable friend of the suffering poor, will testify that it is true. And what must we do? Relieve the suffering if you can, and hear attentively the story. But suspect all mere professions of piety, or even of a dawning interest in it, and do not take appearances as evidence of the real extent of the suffering. Be, in a word, on your guard. But never turn a deaf ear to complaints because you suspect them to be insincere, or refuse to relieve suffering because you believe it deserved. No Vengeance is not ours. The more intimately sin and suffering are mingled in a cup of misery, the louder is the call to the Christian to come immediately with relief. For here both the enemies against which he is contending may be encountered together. The considerations which we have presented, should therefore have influence only in leading us to be careful that we ascertain correctly what the real nature and extent of the suffering really is, and not to postpone or to neglect relieving it when it is ascertained.

Secondly, we are in great danger of deceiving ourselves in respect to the amount of suffering we witness. We consider how much we should suffer if we were in the place of those whom we pity, and measure the extent of

The stage-driver.

The power of habit.

Third rule.

their pain by our susceptibilities. The body becomes inured to hardships to a degree which is surprising. The cold, the abstinence, the exposure which would destroy one, will be borne by another without any serious suffering. A stage-driver will sit upon his box all day, without seeing, or wishing to see a fire; driving in an atmosphere of piercing cold, so intense that the passengers within, though protected from the air and muffled in cloaks and furs, can scarcely bear its extreme inclemency while they are passing from one blazing tavern-fire to another. How often, too, have we seen, as we have been hurrying along the streets to our home, in a bleak wintry day, a group of boys with thin clothing, open bosoms, and bare hands, amusing themselves with their coasting, or their snow-forts, hour after hour. Many a time does the tender mother pity her poor child, playing in the cold, when it is all enjoyment to him It is so with abstinence from food. The human constitution adapts itself with wonderful readiness and certainty to its conditions, and learns to do and to bear without pain, what it is often compelled to do and to hear. Now let no reader say that these remarks are intended to deny that the poor suffer from hunger and cold. They do suffer often and intensely-more intensely than the well-clothed and well-fed dispenser of charity can conceive. Still they often do not suffer, where there is every appearance of suffering; that is, we see that we should suffer in their place, and we think that they must suffer too. We ought to be aware of this; for to enable us to act wisely and judiciously, the first thing is to understand correctly the case in respect to which we are going to act.

3. When we have found, thus, a case of real suffering, and have taken those precautions which the nature of the case will admit for correctly understanding it, we ought to proceed soberly and cautiously in measures for relief. If your feelings become deeply interested in the case,—and if your benevolence is rather that of feeling than of