Few—alas! few and far between, were they who were beckoned to the land of delight, while crowds of wicked beings expiated in the region of howling darkness, the crimes of a guilty life. At length there approached a proud stately woman, clad carelessly in attire not the most cleanly, her cap on one side, her hands begrimed with ink, and a hole in either stocking. Pride and conceit sat on her brow, and she was passing to the right of the judge, towards the region of the blest, before receiving judgment, when Rhadamanthus stopped her, and demanded an account of her doings in the other world. She seemed mightily indignant at this, and after muttering something about “an old ignoramus,” proceeded as follows: {540} “Your worship surely cannot be ignorant of the services I have rendered the present age, as well as posterity, in writing six folio volumes on political economy, the duties of kings, princes and governors, the character of different nations, and the true principles of government. That I might the more exclusively devote myself to these great objects, I resolved never to marry, lest the care of my household and children might interfere with the desire I had to be useful.” “Humph,” quoth Rhadamanthus—and the woman of six folios mistaking this for an approving fiat, was about to pass into the happy region, when he sternly bade her remain where she was. Whereupon she tossed her head, cocked her chin, and took a pinch of snuff, half of which she flourished in the face of the judge. At this moment there approached a respectable matronly female, of an open, contented, and happy countenance, which seemed the index of a virtuous mind. She was dressed in plain attire of exquisite neatness, and as she came before the judgment seat, made a low obeisance, reverent, yet devoid of fear. The judge returned the salutation with a bow, and asked in a voice of kind encouragement what she had been doing in her past life. With timid modesty, she told her tale of usefulness. She had married a worthy man, whose house she tried to make a happy home, and whose moderate means she exerted all the becoming arts of domestic economy to render sufficient for the supply of all the rational wants of life. She had borne him six children, four sons and two daughters; of the former of whom, one was now fighting in defence of his country at the head of its armies; another was a judge administering the laws to the people with justice and mingled mercy; a third was cultivating his father's land, and watching over his declining age; and a fourth imitating the faith of his forefathers both by precept and example. The daughters were all happily married, and living a life of virtue, in the midst of their children. The lady of the six folios listened to this detail of modest usefulness with unutterable scorn, but far different were the feelings of Rhadamanthus, who nodded and smiled approbation at every sentence.