And, my dear Madam, this is not all my grief; my son, before his misfortunes, was one of the most sober, industrious young men in London; but now he is not like the same man. He had nothing to do in the jail, and to drive away care he learned to drink; he said it was a comfort to forget himself, and he would add an oath—I never heard him swear till then. I took pains when he was a child to teach him his prayers, and he rewarded me by being a dutiful son. The case is quite altered now; he seems to have lost all natural affection—he heeds not his mother’s tears.—Her sobs almost suffocated her, as she strove to go on—He will bring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave—and yet I pity my poor boy, he is shut up with such a number of profligate wretches, who laugh at what is right. Every farthing I send him he spends in liquor, and used to make his poor wife pawn her clothes to buy him drink—she was happy to die; it was well for her not to live to hear the babe she gave suck to despise her! A passion of tears relieved the sufferer, and she called her grandchildren—These innocent babes, said she, I shall not be able to keep them, they must go to the workhouse. If the quality did but know what they make us poor industrious people suffer, surely they would be more considerate. Mrs. Mason gave her something to supply her present wants, and promised to call on her again before she left town. They walked silently down two or three streets—I hope you have learned to think, my dear girls, said Mrs. Mason, and that your hearts have felt the emotions of compassion; need I make any comments on the situation of the poor woman we have just left. You perceive that those who neglect to pay their debts do more harm than they imagine; perhaps, indeed, some of these very people do, what is called, a noble action, give away a large sum, and are termed generous; nay, very probably, weep at a tragedy, or when reading an affecting tale. They then boast of their sensibility—when, alas! neglecting the foundation of all virtue, _justice_, they have occasioned exquisite distress; led a poor wretch into vice; heaped misery on helpless infancy, and drawn tears from the aged widow. CHAP. XXIV. _Visit to a poor Family in London.—Idleness the Parent of Vice.—Prodigality and Generosity incompatible.—The Pleasures of Benevolence.—True and false Motives for saving._ After the impression which the story, and the sight of the family had made, was a little worn off, Caroline begged leave to buy one toy, and then another, till her money was quite gone. When Mrs. Mason found it was all expended, she looked round for an object in distress; a poor woman soon presented herself, and her meagre countenance gave weight to her tale.—A babe, as meagre, hung at her breast, which did not seem to contain sufficient moisture to wet its parched lips.