sound their charities, no press to chronicle their acts. The gratitude of the donee is a rich recompense to the donor-purity of motive heightens and refines the joys of each. Angels smile on such benevolence. It is the attribute of Deity, the moving cause of every blessing we enjoy.

Fair Charity, be thou my guest,

And be thy constant couch, my breast.

-Cotton.

Charity is the golden chain that reaches from heaven to earth. It is another name for disinterested, lofty, unadulterated love. It is the substratum of philanthropy, the brightest star in the Christian's diadem. It spurns the scrofula of jealousy, the canker of tormenting envy, the tortures of burning malice, the typhoid of foaming revenge. It is an impartial mirror, set in the frame of love, resting on equity and justice. It is the foundation and cap stone of the climax of all the Christian graces; without it, our religion is like a body without a soul; our friendships, shadows of a shadow; our alms, the offsprings of pride, or, what is more detestable, the offerings of hypocrisy; our humanity, a mere iceberg on the ocean of timewe are unfit to discharge the duties of life, and derange the design of our creation. Was this heaven-born, soul-cheering principle the mainspring of human action, the all-pervading motive-power that impelled mankind in their onward course to eternity, the polar star to guide them through this world of sin and wo-the ills that flesh is heir to, would be softened in its melting

sunbeams, a new and blissful era would dawn auspiciously upon our race, and Satan would become a bankrupt for want of business. Wars and rumors of wars would cease; envy, jealousy, and revenge would hide their diminished heads; falsehood, slander, and persecution would be unknown; sectarian walls, in matters of religion, would crumble in dust; the household of faith would become, what it should be, one united, harmonious family in Christ; infidelity, vice, and immorality would recede, and happiness, before unknown, would become the crowning glory of man. Pure and undefiled religion would then be honored and glorified-primitive Christianity would stand forth, divested of the inventions of men, in all the majesty of its native loveliness. Oh, could an angel bear a balm of such charity into our hearts, then would earth become a heaven and hell a fable.

When we take the history of one poor heart that has sinned and suffered, and represent to ourself the struggles and temptations it passed through-the brief pulsation of joy, the tears of regret, the feebleness of purpose, the scorn of the world that has little charity; the desolation of the soul's sanctuary, and threatening voices within; health gone; happiness gone-we would fain leave the erring soul of our fellow-man with Him from whose hands it came. It is then that the words of Prior show their truth and beauty:

"Soft peace it brings wherever it arrives,

It builds our quiet-latent hope revives,'

Lays the rough paths of nature smooth and even,'
And opens in each breast a little heaven."

Is any man fallen into disgrace? Charity holds down its head, is abashed and out of countenance, partaking of his shame. Is any man disappointed of his hopes or endeavors? Charity cries out, alas! as if it were itself defeated. Is any man afflicted with pain or sickness? Charity looks sadly, it sigheth and groans, it faints and languishes with him. Is any man pinched with hard want? Charity, if it cannot succor, will condole. Does ill news arrive? Charity hears it with an unwilling ear and a sad heart, although not particularly concerned in it. The sight of a wreck at sea, of a field spread with carcasses, of a country desolated, of houses burned and cities ruined, and of the like calamities incident to mankind, would touch the bowels of any man; but the very report of them would affect the heart of charity.

Kindness.

MORE hearts pine away in secret anguish, for the want of kindness from those who should be their comforters, than for any other calamity in life. A word of kindness is a seed which, when dropped by chance, springs up a flower. A kind word and pleasant voice are gifts easy to give; be liberal with them; they are worth more than money. "If a word or two will render a man happy," said a Frenchman, "he must be a wretch indeed, who will not give it. It is like lighting another man's candle with your own. which loses none

of its brilliancy by what the other gains." If all men acted upon that principle the world would be much happier than it is. Kindness is like a calm and peaceful stream that reflects every object in its just proportion. The violent spirit, like troubled waters, renders back the images of things distorted and broken, and communicates to them that disordered motion which arises from its own agitation. Kindness makes sunshine wherever it goes; it finds its way into hidden chambers of the heart and brings forth golden treasures; harshness, on the contrary, seals them up forever. Kindness makes the mother's lullaby sweeter than the song of the lark, the care-laden brow of the father and man of business less severe in their expression. Kindness is the real law of life, the link that connects earth with heaven, the true philosopher's stone, for all it touches it turns to virgin gold; the true gold wherewith we purchase contentment, peace and love. Write your name by kindness, love and mercy on the hearts of the people you come in contact with year by year, and you will never be forgotten.

In the intercourse of social life it is by little acts of watchful kindness recurring daily and hourly; and opportunities of doing kindness, if sought for, are forever starting up; it is by words, by tones, by gestures, by looks, that affection is won and preserved.

How sweet are the affections of kindness. How balmy the influence of that regard which dwells around the fireside, where virtue lives for its own sake, and fidelity regulates and restrains the thirst for admiration, often a more potent foe to virtue than the fiercest lust.

Where distrust and doubt dim not the lustre of purity, and where solicitude, except for the preservation of an unshaken confidence, has no place, and the gleam of suspicion or jealousy never disturb the harmony and tranquility of the scene. Where paternal kindness and devoted filial affection blossom in all the freshness of eternal spring. It matters not if the world is cold, if we can turn to our own dear circle for the enjoyment of which the heart yearns. Lord Bacon beautifully says: "If a man be gracious unto strangers it shows he is a citizen of the world, and his heart is no island cut off from other lands, but a continent that joins them."

There is nothing like kindness in the world. It is the very principle of love; an emanation of the heart which softens and gladdens, and should be inculcated and encouraged in all our intercourse with our fellow beings. It is impossible to resist continued kindness. We may, in a moment of petulance or passion, manifest coldness to the exhibition of good will on the part of a new acquaintance; but let him persist, let him continue to prove himself really benevolent of heart, generously and kindly disposed, and we will find our stubborn nature giving way, even unconsciously to ourselves. If this be the result of kindness among comparative strangers, how much more certain and delightful will be the exercise of the feelings at home, within the charmed circle of friends and relatives? Home enjoyments, home affections, home courtesies, cannot be too carefully or steadily cultivated. They form the sunshine of the heart. They bless and sanc