Ah! my children, you know not how many "houſeleſs heads bide the pitileſs ſtorm!"
I received ſoon after a leſſon of reſignation from a poor woman, who was a practical philoſopher.
She had loſt her huſband, a ſailor, and loſt his wages alſo, as ſhe could not prove his death. She came to me to beg ſome pieces of ſilk, to make some pin-cuſhions for the boarders of a neighbouring ſchool. Her lower weeds were patched with different coloured rags; but they ſpoke not variety of wretchedneſs; on the contrary, they ſhewed a mind ſo content, that want, and bodily pain, did not prevent her thinking of the opinion of caſual obſervers. This woman loſt a huſband and a child ſuddenly, and her daily bread was precarious.—I cheered the widow's heart, and my own was not quite ſolitary.
But I am growing melancholy, whilſt I am only deſirous of pointing out to you how very beneficial charity is; becauſe it enables us to find comfort when all our worldly comforts are blighted: beſides,
