verse. ness of the Hindoo jungle, thou wilt wake a slumbering echo, to be carried on for ever through the uniIn word and act sing thou of united truth and love; another voice shall take up the strain over the waters; soon it will become a WORLD CONCERT;and thou above there, in that realm of light and love, well pleased wilt hear thy early song, in earth's sweet vibration to the harps of heaven. LETTER XXVIII. September 29, 1842. I wish I could walk abroad without having misery forced on my notice, which I haveno power to relieve. The other day I looked out of my window, and saw a tall, gaunt-looking woman leading a little ragged girl, of five or six years old. The child carried a dirty little basket, and I observed that she went up to every door, and stood on tiptoe to reach the bell. From every one, as she held up her little basket, she turned away, and came down the steps so wearily, and looked so sad so very sad. I saw this repeated at four or five doors, and my heart began to swell within me. 'I cannot endure this,' thought I: 'I must buy whatever her basket contains.' Then prudence answered, 'Where's the use? Don't you meet twenty objects more wretched every day? Where can you stop?' I moved from my window; but as I did so, I saw my guardian angel turn away in sorrow. I felt that neither incense nor anthem would rise before God from that selfish second thought. I went to the door. Another group of suffering wretches were coming from the other end of the street; and I turned away again with the feeling that there was no use in attending to the hope less mass of misery around me. I should have closed the door, perhaps, but as the little girl came near, I saw on her neck a cross, with a rudely-carved image of the crucified Saviour. Oh, blessed Jesus! friend of the poor, the suffering, and the guilty, who is like thee to guide the erring soul, and soften the selfish heart? The tears gushed to my eyes. I bought from the little basket a store of matches for a year. The woman offered me change; but I could not take it in sight of that cross. 'In the Saviour's name, take it all,' I said, 'and buy clothes for that little one.' A gleam lighted up the woman's hard features she looked surprised and grateful. But the child grabbed at the money, with a hungry avarice, that made my very heart ache. Hardship, privation, and perchance severity, had changed the genial heart-warmth, the gladsome thoughtlessness of childhood, into the grasping sensuality of a worldtrodden soul. It seemed to me the saddest thing, that in all God's creation there should be one such little child. I almost feared they had driven the angels away from her. But it is not so. Her angel, too, does always stand before the face of her Father, who is in Heaven. This time I yielded to the melting of my heart; but a hundred times a week, I drive back the generous impulse, because I have not the means to gratify it. This is the misery of a city like New-York, that a kindly spirit not only suffers continual pain, but is obliged to do itself perpetual wrong. At times, I almost fancy I can feel myself turning to stone by inches. Gladly, oh, how gladly, do I hail any little sunbeam of love, that breaks through this cloud of misery and wrong. The other day, as I came down Broome-street, I saw a street musician, playing near the door of a genteel dwelling. The organ was uncommonly sweet and mellow in its tones, the tunes were slow and plaintive, and I fancied that I saw in the woman's 6 Italian face an expression that indicated sufficient refinement to prefer the tender and the melancholy, to the lively trainer tunes' in vogue with the populace. She looked like one who had suffered much, and the sorrowful music seemed her own appropriate voice. A little girl clung to her scanty garments, as if afraid of all things but her mother. As I looked at them, a young lady of pleasing countenance opened the window, and began to sing like a bird, in keeping with the street organ. Two other young girls came and leaned on her shoulder; and still she sang on. Blessings on her gentle heart! It was evidently the spontaneous gush of human love and sympathy. The beauty of the incident attracted attention. A group of gentlemen gradually collected round the organist; and ever as the tune ended, they bowed respectfully toward the window, waved their hats, and called out, More, if you please!' One, whom I knew well for the kindest and truest soul, passed round his hat; hearts were kindled, and the silver fell in freely. In a minute, four or five dollars were collected for the poor woman. She spoke no word of gratitude, but she gave such a look? Will you go to the next street, and play to a friend of mine?' said my kind-hearted friend. She answered, in tones expressing the deepest emotion, No, sir, God bless you all God bless you all, (making a courtesy to the young lady, who had stept back, and stood sheltered by the curtain of the window,) 'I will play no more to-day; I will go home, now.' The tears trickled down her cheeks, and, as she walked away, she ever and anon wiped her eyes with the corner of her shawl. The group of gentlemen lingered a moment to look after her, then turning toward the now closed window, they gave three enthusiastic cheers, and departed, better than they came. The pave ment on which they stood had been a church to them; and for the next hour, at least, their hearts were more than usually prepared for deeds of gen tleness and mercy. Why are such scenes so uncommon! Why do we thus repress our sympathies, and chill the genial current of nature, by formal observances and restraints? I thank my heavenly Father for every manifestation of human love. I thank him for all experiences, be they sweet or bitter, which help me to forgive all things, and to enfold the whole world with blessing. 'What shall be our reward,' says Swedenborg, for loving our neighbour as ourselves in this life? That when we become angels, we shall be enabled to love him better than ourselves.' This is a reward pure and holy; the only one, which my heart has not rejected, whenever offered as an incitement to goodness. It is this chiefly which makes the happiness of lovers more nearly allied to heaven, than any other emotions experienced by the human heart. Each loves the other better than himself; each is willing to sacrifice all to the othernay, finds joy therein. This it is that surrounds them with a golden atmosphere, and tinges the world with rose-colour. A mother's love has the same angelic character; more completely unselfish, but lacking the charm of perfect reciprocity. The cure for all the ills and wrongs, the cares, the sorrows, and the crimes of humanity, all lie in that one word, LOVE. It is the divine vitality that everywhere produces and restores life. To each and every one of us it gives the power of working miracles, if we will. 'Love is the story without an end, that angels throng to hear; all feel its influEven the poor, From the highest to the lowest, ence, all acknowledge its sway. despised donkey is changed by its magic influence. When coerced and beaten, he is vicious, obstinate, and stupid. With the peasantry of Spain, he is a petted favourite, almost an inmate of the household. The children bid him welcome home, and the wife feeds him from her hands. He knows them all, and he loves them all, for he feels in his inmost heart that they all love him. He will follow his master, and come and go at his bidding, like a faithful dog; and he delights to take the baby on his back, and walk him round, gently, on the greensward. His intellect expands, too, in the sunshine of affection; and he that is called the stupidest of animals becomes sagacious. A Spanish peasant had for many years carried milk into Madrid to supply a set of customers. Every morning, he and his donkey, with loaded panniers, trudged the well-known round. At last, the peasant became very ill, and had no one to send to market. His wife proposed to send the faithful old animal by himself. The panniers were accordingly filled with cannisters of milk, an inscription, written by the priest, requested customers to measure their own milk, and return the vessels; and the donkey was instructed to set off with his load. He went, and returned in due time with empty cannisters; and this he continued to do for several days. The house bells in Madrid are usually so constructed that you pull downward to make them ring. The peasant afterward learned that his sagacious 'animal stopped before the door of every customer, and after waiting what he deemed a sufficient time, pulled the bell with his mouth. If affectionate treatment will thus idealize the jackass, what may it not do? Assuredly there is no limit to its power. It can banish crime, and make this earth an Eden. The best tamer of colts that was ever known in Massachusetts, never allowed whip or spur to be used; and the horses he trained never needed the whip. Their spirits were unbroken by severity, and they obeyed the slightest impulse of the voice or rein, with the most animated promptitude: but rendered obedient to affection, their vivacity was always |