She imagines that every perſon ſhe converſes with means to deceive her; and when ſhe leaves a company, ſuppoſes all the ill they may ſay of her, becauſe ſhe recollects her own practice. She liſtens about her houſe, expecting to diſcover the deſigns of her ſervants, none of whom ſhe can truſt; and in conſequence of this anxiety her ſleep iſ unſound, and her food taſteleſs. She walks in her paradiſe of a garden, and ſmells not the flowers, nor do the birds inſpire her with cheerfulneſs.—Theſe pleaſures are true and ſimple, they lead to the love of God, and all the creatures whom He hath made—and cannot warm a heart which a malicious ſtory can pleaſe.
She cannot pray to God;—He hates a liar! She is neglected by her huſband, whoſe only motive for marrying her was to clear an incumbered eſtate. Her ſon, her only child, iſ undutiful; the poor never have cauſe to bleſs her; nor does ſhe contribute to the happineſs of any human being.
