But, form a Society of these very persons, and send out an Agent to the Antipodes to hunt up the misery that may be found there, to report in due form on precisely the same cases of distress, or on such, perhaps, as are not half so worthy of pity, and the tear of sympathy will be seen trickling down the cheek of the sentimentalist, as he reads the printed document in his easy chair, or listens to the fervid eloquence of the platform orator, who feels the same pleasure in telling the story which his hearers do in receiving it. “’Tis distance lends enchantment,” and because these persons can luxuriate in the indulgence of their benevolence in agreeable circumstances, without being compelled to come in actual contact with the squalid and disgusting forms of misery; or like Howard, to sacrifice home and comfort to look it up, and administer consolation at the expense of ease and better society. To all this we have no objection. Even if the statements are exaggerated, and the pictures highly colored; though the Agents engaged in this work know well, that their support depends on the interest they create; though there is not half the good accomplished that was dreamt of, or is supposed; nay, though all the fruits of this sympathy were expended on the way to its objects, and in sustaining this machinery, still the world is made better, and the compensation is abundant, though nothing else be gained, but the good and kind feeling it has kindled up at home. It is even better, that they who will not relieve the miserable objects that lie at their doors, or perish in the streets, or starve in the comfortless abodes of their own city or town, should have some small pittances of their abundance drawn out by the workings of a romantic sympathy for the remotest objects, than that they should do nothing at all. If they feel not for the wretched before their eyes, it is yet good that they can be made to feel for those who are far off.