meriting particular reprobation, and causing us to lament, that there is
no law to punish offenders so enormous. There was a man in Pennsylvania,
apparently a very amiable young man, having a good estate of his own,
and marrying a most beautiful woman of his own age, of rich parents, and
of virtue perfectly spotless. He very soon took to both _gaming_ and
_drinking_ (the last being the most fashionable vice of the country); he
neglected his affairs and his family; in about four years spent his
estate, and became a dependent on his wife's father, together with his
wife and three children. Even this would have been of little
consequence, as far as related to expense; but he led the most
scandalous life, and was incessant in his demands of money for the
purposes of that infamous life. All sorts of means were resorted to to
reclaim him, and all in vain; and the wretch, availing himself of the
pleading of his wife's affection, and of his _power over the children_
more especially, continued for ten or twelve years to plunder the
parents, and to disgrace those whom it was his bounden duty to assist in
making happy. At last, going out in the dark, in a boat, and being
partly drunk, he went to the bottom of the Delaware, and became food for
otters or fishes, to the great joy of all who knew him, excepting only
his amiable wife. I can form an idea of no baseness equal to this. There
is more of _baseness_ in this character than in that of the robber. The
man who obtains the means of indulging in vice, by robbery, exposes
himself to the inflictions of the law; but though he merits punishment,
he merits it less than the base miscreant who obtains his means by his
_threats to disgrace his own wife, children_, and _the wife's parents_.
The short way in such a case, is the best; set the wretch at _defiance_;
resort to the strong arm of the law wherever it will avail you; drive
him from your house like a mad dog; for, be assured, that a being so
base and cruel is never to be reclaimed: all your efforts at persuasion
are useless; his promises and vows are made but to be broken; all your
endeavours to keep the thing from the knowledge of the world, only
prolong his plundering of you; and many a tender father and mother have
been ruined by such endeavours; the whole story _must come out at last_,
and it is better to come out before you be ruined, than after your ruin
is completed.

224. However, let me hope, that those who read this work wi