While then, my brethren, we have every encouragement to persevere in works of beneficence, though they may be accompanied with labor, and be repaid with human ingratitude, let us be duly thankful that there are other occasions on which we can discharge duty, and at the same time open a source of the purest and noblest gratification. Yes—painful as may be some of those walks of charity which the christian must pursue, and revolting as are some of those objects which he must encounter, we know that there are paths for the benevolent where their footsteps fall pleasantly, and a refreshing fragrance surrounds them, and smiling objects meet them, and satisfactions the most delightful, urge them forward. We can sometimes give, and pleasure shall accompany the act, and unmingled good shall follow it, and gratitude shall reward it, and God himself shall crown it with the brightest wreath. Say I not true when I speak of giving to the destitute orphan? Is not this a deed of unalloyed satisfaction, is it not one upon which the bountiful eye may look to fill the soul with an unrestrained generosity? Here is required no cold calculation of the amount of good to be effected, here is no room for anxious doubt concerning the result of the benevolent act.
Asylums for the destitute orphan are among those institutions which even the severe, and in some respects, the cold and selfish principles of Political Economy cannot justly disapprove of. To the truly benevolent, and to the pious christian, they have always been, and must ever be, objects of deep interest. Other charities may be perverted in some degree to evil purposes. Their effect may be to encourage idle and dissolute conduct, and to increase the evil they would remedy, by operating as a bounty upon pauperism. To some extent this has been the effect of alms-houses, and of many of those societies which, with the best intentions, have been administered to adult persons. We acknowledge, indeed, that protection, shelter, and subsistence for the aged and decrepit, who are past the ability to labor for their own daily food, medicine and medical advice, and in cases of absolute poverty, the retreat of the hospital, are real charities, such as suffering humanity requires, and pure benevolence will provide for. But in other cases, it is questionable whether relief can be given without ill effects, except it be accompanied with the opportunity and the necessity for bodily labor. I am not, however, upon the present occasion to discuss the general question of charitable societies. It is one of great importance, and one which we think is not yet generally understood. Much light has recently been thrown upon it, especially in this city, by the active and intelligent exertions and experiments of some of our fellow citizens,—and it should continue to occupy the serious attention of our civil authorities, and of every benevolent and public spirited person.
But who can doubt about the expediency, as well as the mercy and christian obligation, of fostering the poor and helpless orphan, whose natural protectors have been removed by the Providence of God? Naked, we must clothe them, for their helplessness cannot provide for their own covering; hungry, we must feed them, for they appeal to us with the moaning cry and innocent tears of childhood; strangers in this world, but just entered upon it, and left without a home to receive, or a parent's fostering care to protect them, we must take them in. We cannot resist or evade such an appeal, we know that it comes from a guileless petitioner, whose distresses no vice of its own has produced, and no exertions of its own can relieve. Should any one of you in your walks through our city during its inclement winter behold a child almost naked, shivering with cold and fainting with hunger, and did you learn that it had wandered unprotected from the home where its only surviving parent had just expired in all the wretchedness of poverty and disease, and finding its mother's voice silent, her hands that had cherished it cold, and her eyes closed, the little one had gone forth weeping and alone, would any of you refuse it a home, and food and protection?—It is this sacred duty which our Institution has performed for many such suffering and innocent beings. Where, if not to such an object, can the heart send forth its sympathies without restraint, and give itself to all the delights of a glowing generosity?
But I need not tell you of these heavenly satisfactions as I see around me those who have long known and shared them, for this Institution has, from its foundation, been a favored and fostered one in our community. Many are the labors that have cheerfully been bestowed upon its interests, many and generous the contributions given to it, and many and ardent the prayers offered up in its behalf to the throne of grace. Of those who first united themselves in this work and labor of love, I find that all have been removed, and have gone to receive their eternal reward.
The last of this respected and excellent band has recently been summoned away from us, and she went gently and peacefully, in a blessed old age, in full preparation, followed by the tears and benedictions of the widow and the fatherless whom she had relieved, and in beautiful accordance with the meek, the honorable, and useful existence, which she had mercifully been permitted to accomplish. One of the earliest founders of this Asylum, and for many years its first Directress, she had uniformly given to it her countenance and assistance; and dying, bequeathed to it a generous evidence of her attachment. Long will her memory be cherished in this community, as a model of the efficient but unassuming and lovely graces that constitute the character of the christian matron; long will it be cherished—and especially by you, Ladies, the present Managers of the Asylum, who have been witnesses of the fidelity, the courtesy, the discretion, the zeal, with which her duties as associated with you were discharged.[15] The Institution has descended to you, the successors as it were of a blessed company who are now we trust, in communion with that Saviour, whose precepts of benevolence they so faithfully fulfilled, and with that blessed company of the spirits of the just made perfect, who now surround the throne of God and the Lamb. You need not our exhortation that you should walk worthy of their example, but you will not reject our devout wishes and prayers, that an equal measure of success may attend your future labors, and that a heavenly and eternal reward may hereafter crown them.
To you, my hearers generally, who have assembled in honor of the anniversary of our Institution and to encourage it in its pious labors, would I address a few words in conclusion. We doubt not your benevolence, we know that the orphan can never plead to you in vain, we believe that your hearts will ever be enlarged in proportion to the urgency of the claims of the Institution. Its necessities must of course increase with our rapidly increasing population, and be assured it can well and judiciously employ all the bounty you will bestow upon it. Should it be possible for any one here present to feel cold and indifferent to the claims of this Institution, I would say, realize the pitiable condition of an orphan infant. To you who are parents and are watching over your growing offspring, and can imagine how bitter would be your distress at the thought of being torn from them—remember, that these are destitute of a father's protection and a mother's anxious love. Be ye then their comfort and their stay. As you look upon your own offspring, and reflect with gratitude that you are yet preserved to watch over their tender infancy and dependant youth, and as you pray that you may still shelter them until they can withstand the storms and adversities of life, think how you may repay your Almighty Benefactor in the persons of those, who are also his children; think also, how deep will be your ingratitude, if while so blessed, you can "despise these little ones." Your children are yet around you, and you watch over them, but you cannot pierce into the solemn darkness of futurity—they may yet be helpless, parentless, friendless,—as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.[16]
Ye also, who have experienced, and perhaps still enjoy, the watchful care and affectionate caresses of devoted parents, forget not that there are those, who have never rejoiced in the sound of a father's voice, or a mother's gentle embraces. And can you, who have known such delights refuse your sympathy to these children of the most cruel privation? No. You will remember those, who have been for ever cut off from the sweetest pleasures of life; whose lips have never learned to say—"father"—"mother,"—and to behold the countenances of these dearest friends lighten up with joy at the sound, and their arms extended for the fond embrace. You will,—yes my brethren,—will you not all,—all here present,—remember them? The bountiful eye, which looks upon their sad condition, and relieves them, shall be blessed—blessed of men in their full applause—blessed in its own soothing approbation, and more than all, and above all, blessed of the God of all blessing, now and for ever more. Amen.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Proverbs xxiii. 6, 7.