Deem my religion infincere,

Or call it useless zeal;

Yet will I ne'er repent my choice,
I'll ne'er withdraw my trust;

I know Thee, Lord, a pow'rful friend,
And kind, and wife, and juft.

To doubt Thy goodness wou'd be base
Ingratitude in me;

Past favours shall renew my hopes,
And fix my faith in Thee.

Indulgent God! my willing tongue

Thy praises fhall prolong;

For oh! Thy bounty fires my breast,
And rapture fwells my fong.

N,

NUM

NUMBER LXXVI.

Purfue fome nobler aim.

Difmifs your parafites, who praise for bire ;
And earn the fair efteem of honeft men,
Whofe praife is fame. Form'd of fuch clay as yours,
The fick, the needy fhiver at your gates,
Even modeft want may blefs your band unfeen:
Is there no virgin, grac'd with every charm

But that, which binds the mercenary vow ? &c.
ARMSTRONG.

SIR,

To the VISITOR.

Bath, Dec. 28, 1760.

IT

us.

T is very pleafing to remark that benevolence and charity, which abound amongst These are the best and most certain fruits of true religion. And I am willing to believe, that no age hath seen them abound more in our country than the prefent, tho' the numberless royal and other charitable inftitutions in the nation fufficiently prove, that these virtues have heretofore flourished in great beauty and power. When I confider the many excellent inftitutions in the metropolis, calculated for the relief of almost every fufferer; when I read over the pleasing lift of the feveral benefactors

to

255 to each, and obferve fo many of my worthy Countrymen generously contributing to the relief of their fuffering fellow-creatures: my heart, I confefs, feels a grateful emotion, and I congratulate myself on the felicity of living in an age of fuch beneficence, and amongst beings of fuch humanity.

But when from the perufal of lifts, and the fequeftration of the closet, I betake myself to the more busy haunts of men, and especially to the places confecrated to HEALTH and AMUSEMENT; too frequently my golden ideas are unpleafingly diffipated, and my Philanthropy retains not that amiable perfection I could with it to preserve. When I fee fuch fums dedicated to pleasure, fquandered away in trifles, tofs'd about at the gaming table, lavished in delicacies, and diffipated in folly; I no longer think the contributions to charity great, but stand amazed at the abfurdity of mankind, who rather choose to employ their wealth in fuch airy and unfatisfactory gratifications, than in virtuous and noble actions, which would be delightful in present reflection, and great in their future reward. Whereas wealth employed in the fervice of merely temporal indulgences, gives no pleasure in the retrospect, and can procure no favour from the just judge of actions.

I do not mean to decry amufements, or to fpeak with the severity of an enthusiast on the

finful

finfulness of diverfions: far from it: they are neceflary in a degree; and to urge the contrary, is to combat the univerfal opinion of mankind, in all ages. But methinks a frugal management of our pleasures might enable us to difcharge the debt of mutual benevolence more perfectly, and to make ourselves happy, by contributing more abundantly to the happiness of others. You fee I put benevolence upon a very selfish principle: but I freely confefs to you, that I fpeak in this refpect the undiffembled dictates of my heart; which never feels a more divine and elevated pleasure, than in the opportunity and ability to communicate felicity and good. Nor fhall I eafily be persuaded, that there is any impropriety in indulging that fenfation; fince he, whofe dictates I hope always to receive implicitly, used to say, it is more bleffed to give than to receive.

Now, as the one pursuit of us all is happinefs, by whatever different tracts we follow the chace; furely it might be well worth our labour to confult a little for the improvement of that heart-felt fatisfaction, which arises from the exercise of humanity and benevolence.-See that poor creature just expiring in the streets for hunger:-As a man you would wish to relieve him; what is a billing to you, who are just going to expend fifty, at a tavern?-Go into that cottage-the husband is lately dead; the miferable

widow, ftunned with the clamours of her little hungry orphans, fits weeping on the ground, in the bitterness of diftrefs!. Good heavens! What an exalted joy would it be to feed those hungry; to wipe the tears away from those weeping eyes, to gladden the misery of this defolate family-will it not give you more pleasure to do this, to spare them five or ten guineas, than to buy a new set of garnets; to drink champaign for the evening; or to bet high upon the cards! -But let us carry the matter ftill farther: Public charities owe their ftrength to private benefactions. You may be an inftrument of more good, by fifty or an hundred pounds given to one of these, than by five times that fum, employed in another way.-Now then, suppose you refolve to separate a fum, saved from your common expences to this end: How eafy will it be to accomplish this, and what a fatisfaction will it afford you at the close of the year, to find such a fum in your hands, confecrated to fuch fervice; which without this frugal charity, had been carried down the ftream of general diffipation-You are at a public place; omit to play at the rooms a night now and then, and put into your charity-box, the money it would have coft you for the cards. You are used to a chair, omit that expence now and then, and affign the money to your charitable scheme. Instead of twelve dishes on your table, now and

then