Had this poor woman been disposed rather to have evaded the gift to the treasury than to have volunteered so large a donation as that of "all her living," the circumstance of her being A WIDOW would seem to have been a sufficient apology. No condition of life can be conceived more wretched. A widow is deprived; "of the object of tenderest regard, the soother of her cares, the defence of her weakness, and the staff of her life." She is left to bewail in solitude--to suffer alone; or, if her children surround her, by tracing in their features the resemblance of her departed husband, she perpetually opens afresh the wound that time was kindly healing, and blends her fond caresses with tears of unavailing regret. She must now support herself--and perhaps struggle to supply them, whose childhood both disqualifies them from affording any assistance, and renders the incessant vigilance of maternal care essential to their very preservation. If, in addition to this, her poverty incapacitates her for resisting the arm of oppression, or vindicating herself against the unmerited reproaches of the censorious and the impious, her situation is inconceivably deplorable. Some part of this description certainly applies, and perhaps all, to the character under consideration. She was a poor widow: and yet the miseries of her own state did not prevent her casting in a liberal supply, even "all her living," into the treasury of God. She trusted for to-morrow to that Providence which had supplied her to-day; a confidence which we cannot doubt experienced its appropriate reward. In addition to these considerations, and as a reply to the sophisms already adverted to, by which so many in far superior circumstances to this good woman endeavour to fence themselves against the charge of illiberality, we remark--