obtain; his merit recommended him to her parents, and his virtues recommended him to her own heart. For a moment let us suppose the contrast. Matilda, naturally giddy and the daughter of gay thoughtless parents, rushes into the world at the height of fashion.-She retires to rest at almost sun-rise, and half asleep, at mid-day saunters to the drawing room→ yawns a good-morrow to her parents, and tries to read the news-papers, but her head aches, and her eyes are weak. A few fashionable visits paid or received, the languid automaton begins to rouse, and retires to change her morning slatternly raiment for the transparencies of evening. Matilda is now awake, she has put on all her studied. charms and graces, and kissing her hand to her parents, she hastens to the ball. room. Conscious Conscious of beauty, her eyes look round for admiration; every feature is prepared for conquest, her beautiful com plexion is disfigured by art, her person overpowers you with perfumes, and her tresses of light hair are tortured into forms which nature never meant them to bear. Her graceful figure is cloathed in gauze, through which not only her limbs, but also her every motion, is discernible; her alabaster arms are naked to the shoulders, and her bosom exposed to the gaze of folly. The aged pass her with a sigh, and she passes them without reflecting, that some years hence she will be the same. Her inferiors observe her with a grin of derision, and the youthful, libertine, from the levity of her appearance, apprehends no rebuff; he addresses her with freedom, she answers him with spirit, and the acquaintance of an hour makes them friends, Men Men of sense and discernment view her with mingled contempt and pity, but shun her society; and flattered and admired by knaves, the refuse of mankind, Matilda had fallen a victim to folly and vanity, had not Providence, in the very hour of danger, mercifully interposed. She caught a cold at a masquerade from the lightness of her dress, and entirely lost the use of her limbs. Reduced to a sick bed, she reflected on her errors, repented, and became not only, a prudent woman but a good Christian. ON ON FEAR.. FEAR is one of the most deceitful of human frailties, and leads us into a thousand miseries, which, but for its tantalizing power we should never experience; the effects of terror being not only tormenting to ourselves, but also frequently distressing to others. By giving way to this failing, it daily gains strength, until at length it weakens our faculties, impairs our reason, imbitters every hour of our lives, and intails upon us those very distresses which could never have disturbed disturbed us, but from the force of a bewildered imagination. There are many people who make themselves wretched through a jealousy and distrust of their friends, and weary them with their doubts and ungrateful suspicions, till they in reality alienate their affections. Some from a dread of poverty deprive themselves of necessaries, and thus encounter all the evils of real want. Thousands, from a fear of infectious diseases, have confined themselves at home, till they either lost their health, or by suffering the dread to dwell on their spirits, have engendered the malady they shunned, and died merely from the very fear of dying. Other misfortunes, though they may be great, have their termination; and when attended by a trust in God, and the consolations of hope, are half subdued. Fear, |