great importance. The laborer, therefore, may even be employed often by those, who hardly know his name, who never know whether he is married or unmarried, whether he is working only for himself or for a family, or whether he is virtuous or vicious; and who have not a thought concerning him, but in connexion with the service for which he may occasionally be wanted. The poor are, therefore, too often considered merely as a class of society, a single body; and a judgment is formed of the character of the whole of them, from the unfavorable specimens, which we see abroad as vagrants, or which come to our houses for broken food, or which are found in almshouses. This, however, is unjust, and to many greatly injurious. The truth is, that there are those who are perpetually passing from the ranks of the poor, into those which we distinguish as the higher classes. And there are those, who are daily passing from competency, and even from affluence, into the ranks of the poor. In an extensive acquaintance with the families of this class of the population of a city, affecting facts are disclosed, illustrative of the vanity of depending on the permanence of earthly prosperity. Nor is the change from affluence, or from competency, to poverty, always to be ascribed to vice. It is not more fair to infer of a man, that he lacks principle, or is vicious, because he is poor, than it would be wise to infer of a man, that he is virtuous, and worthy of all confidence, because he is rich. Let us then look at the poor as they are, a very mixed class; and comprehending as many varieties, both of condition and character, as are to be found in the other classes of society. And, that I may give as much distinctness as I can, to the exposition which I wish to offer, of the recent, and the immediate condition of the poor, let me endeavor to mark the boundary within which, peculiarly, though not

altogether exclusively, is included the class of those to whom my ministry is devoted, and whose instruction, improvement, and happiness, is the great object of my labors.

Who, then, are the poor?

I answer, that any one who depends on charity for the means of subsistence, during the time of this dependence, and in the degree of it, is poor. No one, in the strict sense of the term, is poor, who is not thus dependent. But even this dependence is very far from being equal among those who feel it. There are those, for example, who are only occasionally, and partially poor. There are those, too, who are frequently, and considerably poor. And there are those who are constantly, and absolutely poor. And, between these general divisions, there are examples of every supposable degree, and kind of poverty. Any one who should go among the poor, either to exercise the office of a christian minister, or to discharge the duties of christian kindness to them, without clearly comprehending these distinctions, and without keeping them constantly in his view, would be exposed to many mistaken efforts in his ministry, and to much injurious application of his bounty; I advert to them, however, only that I may be more entirely understood, in speaking of the sufferings of this class of our fellow beings.

First. There are those who are constantly, and absolutely poor.

This division of the poor comprehends those who live wholly by beggary. But it also includes others, who are not less dependent on charity, than are those who live wholly by begging, but who seldom or never ask for assistance. Nay, it comprehends some who are very virtuous, and estimable, as well as some who are greatly de

based and vicious. Let me illustrate what I mean, by examples.

I am accustomed to go to one house, in three rooms of which six families are living. Here are six husbands, their six wives, and their several children. There are other families, who are living together in the same manner; and a much larger number, whose condition is only so far better, that each family has a room by itself. Is it asked, do these families earn nothing for their support? I answer, that the wives absolutely earn nothing; and I know not how, in our city, they can earn anything. In Paris, they might have been fishwomen, or they might have hoed a potato field in Ireland. But there is here no employment for them. Some of them, indeed, hardly know how to use a needle; and some are almost as unused to washing, as they are to sewing. If our commerce were now as active, and as prosperous as it once was, their husbands would perhaps obtain work enough, to enable them to live as comfortably as they have ever lived. But, during the last four months, they could not sometimes obtain a day's work in a fortnight. Is it asked, how then do they pay their rent, and retain for themselves a home? I answer, they do not pay it, and are still in debt for it; and both they and their landlords are looking to better times,' for the liquidation of this debt. There are none who feel any strong interest in these families, or who are disposed to assist them beyond the demands of the passing day. As they cannot therefore borrow, they must of necessity either beg, or steal. The children, therefore, and their mothers, pass from house to house to seek for food, while the husbands and fathers either remain at home, or are standing idle in the streets, or upon the wharves; except, perchance, when they can earn twelve and a half, or twentyfive cents, by the strange

circumstance of having an opportunity for an hour or two of labor. This is indeed the hair-breadth division between partial self-support, and constant and absolute dependence. My heart has been ready to sink within me, while I have been sitting in an upper chamber, and have looked upon one bed, which is the resting-place of a husband and wife, and two children; and upon another, in the opposite corner, where a husband and wife, and four children, sleep; and to which the wife was then confined by so severe an illness, as seemed to require all that quiet, and kindness, and the tenderest nursing could do for her. Suppose, then, that the wife, in one of these families, should die. The family, in this case, is generally broken up. The husband provides for himself, and his children are either sent to the House of Industry, or to one of our asylums, or are scattered among their friends. But, should one of the husbands die, or, which is not an uncommon occurrence, should one of these husbands desert his family, this family, deprived of the little that was earned in it, must, and will, fall into absolute dependence. And how are this mother and her children to be provided for? She probably knows not how to read; and her children, kept from school, are growing up in almost equal ignorance. In the present state of our institutions for the poor, therefore, they are compelled to beg. And how are these children employed, when they are not begging? They are either loitering about their houses, or they are playing in the streets, or they are in corners in which they feel themselves to be safe while practising their petty gambling; or they are endeavoring to find something, which they may sell for a few cents, with which they will purchase for themselves indulgences, that cannot be obtained by begging. The question is a very solemn one, what is the duty of society in regard to these

children? Their moral capacities have no developement, compared with that even of their intellectual powers. They have, in truth, sometimes a marvellous shrewdness and ingenuity in evil. And not only do they early become deceivers, profane, lewd, and dishonest, but even accustomed to the use of ardent spirits. Should any of them even escape a prison, which is not very probable, they will be degraded and miserable for life. The families to which I here refer are the least generally known of any among us; and they are far from being the greatest sufferers among the poor. They are considered, too, by most of those who take any thought for them, as beyond remedial influence; and the language concerning them is,' for their absolute necessities, leave them to get their bread as they may; and, when they fall into crime, let the law take its course with them.' This, however, is an unchristian and a wicked sentiment; and its prevalence is doing much to perpetuate the evil, which, by a wise and christian policy, to a considerable extent might be obviated.

But these alone do not comprehend the whole of the constantly and absolutely poor. There are families of mechanics, which have fallen into this condition, even from a state of very comfortable competency. There are husbands and wives of this class, now far advanced in life, who literally have nothing but their little stock of poor furniture, and who are incapable of labor. Some of them are very virtuous; and all of them, in an important sense, are respectable. They have, perhaps, been inefficient, and not as provident as they should have been for a time of weakness, or of sickness, or of old age. But they were not wholly, and perhaps not at all, dependent on charity, till they were past the time of labor. There are also single women, both widows, and those who