trials of those who approach or navigate our shores, on a tempest-troubled deep," with icy cordage, and the hurricane-drift benumbing them. The bark now struggles against the elements-against winds, waves, snows, and rocks, as has been happily described in the picture of the fearful traits of a destructive gale.—

"It pauses to gather its fearful breath,

And lifts up its voice like the angel of death;

And the billows leap up when the summons they hear,
And the ship flies away, as if winged with fear.

And the uncouth creatures that dwell in the deep,
Start up at the sound from their floating sleep,

And career through the water, like clouds through the night,
To share in the tumult, their joy and delight:
And when the moon rises, the ship is no more,

Its joys and its sorrows are vanished and o'er,

And the fierce storm that slew it has faded away,

Like the dark dream that flies from the light of the day."

Such an aspect of the skies and earth as we witness, invites the domestic circle, moreover, to double cordiality of intercourse, and joint thankfulness to Providence for comparative security and comfort. Another poet has beautifully said,

แ

"Though boundless snows that wither'd heath deform,

And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm,

Yet shall the smile of social love repay

With mental light the melancholy day."

Winter is a season to think of promoting, not merely the general welfare of those around us, but their particular and detailed happiness; to resolve fondly and fixedly to let all harsh sentiments, unkind purposes and angry phrases, die within us, as the murmurs do in the sea-shells. Feeling, looking, speech, motion, are all to be strictly guarded, lest they express that which tends to produce an atmosphere near the very fireside almost as chilling and withering as the air without, and to leave impressions and traces which can never be effaced like those of external nature.

When death strikes at home-when a relative or companion goes to the tomb, nothing consoles the survivor so much as the recollection of a constant kindliness of deed, word, and manner, an invariable restraint of temper and self-love, towards the departed. Self-reproach may be the worst and most durable source of regret and grief, even when deep affection has been entertained and duty generally performed. Washington Irving has well illustrated this truth-too often and widely neglected-in one of his admirable tales. He tells that memory will be more fresh and importunate, when the near and tender ties of life have been broken, in recalling to the mourner the merits which may not have been duly and steadily appreciated, the perverseness, the injustice and severity shown, the sallies of

anger or ill-humour, then the main regard, and the benevolent intentions cherished, or the good offices done at intervals of happy sunshine, or in the absence of every provocative to umbrage or spleen.

But more immediately of Winter and Charity. Public calls of an extraordinary nature are made upon the sympathies of those who can afford assistance to the suffering poor, to the necessities of those who live within our community, at the biting season of the year. Aid is invoked against unusual inclemency, for which no humble labourer could be fully prepared; in behalf of wretchedness that does not stalk abroad, or raise an importunate lament, but shrinks for. lorn in the hovel or the chamber from the public glance, cowers in sad silence over the last embers on the hearth, and hails succour when it comes with the blush of decent pride and the gratitude of diffident merit.

One

There is much of this species of truly compassionable distress, which may be discovered with extraordinary pains, and assuaged without heavy disbursements, and the mitigation of which will open,-as the poet says of charity in general, "a little heaven" in the breast of each reliever, and each sufferer relieved. recognises a special efficiency and a special dignity in the concert of many sympathetic hearts and open hands, pouring a tide of comparative happiness within their own proximate and proper sphere of action. Its generous enthusiasm is not vainly romantic, its operation is palpably sure; it is an exercise of the social obligations and affections, which is followed by an immediate harvest; which, while it refines and strengthens the local spirit, contributes to the good of the whole country, and indeed of the world, upon the unquestionably fixed principle that, if each community, or each individual, were to perform duly the task allotted by Providence to each, the aggregate of prosperity or blessings, the sum of success, would be at the maximum.

The severity of the season is the visitation of God; and it seems to be a part of the ordination of the human world, that those whom He has blessed with abundant means should heal, in part, the evils he allows to fall on others--should serve as auxiliaries and ministers of his ultimate mercies to the giver as well as to the receiver. He has endowed our race with the principles of benevolence, so that the gratification of it reacts most pleasurably, and its exercise seems indispensable for the excellence and felicity of our nature. One great purpose of society is, to furnish opportunities of mutual aid and support: to improve those opportunities is, to strengthen all the social bonds, to employ and heighten a salutary instinct, to conform to the original temperament of the moral frame.

The frugal housewife trembles when she lights
Her scanty stock of brushwood, blazing clear,
But dying soon, like all terrestrial joys.
The few small embers left she nurses well;
And, while her infant race, with outspread hands
And crowded knees, sit cow'ring o'er the sparks,
Retires, content to quake, so they be warm'd."

Malevolence often mars the bounties of heaven and the intentions of human wisdom. Divine dispensations of good are frustrated or abridged by man's folly and passion. This would seem to be the history of all human affairs. Still the really pious and trustful man will think most earnestly of the best method open to him of alleviating the effects of sad vicissitude-of tempering what may b relatively dark and precarious. With regard to himself, his security is perfect :

"Religion! Providence! An after state!
Here is firm footing!
This can support us!

Here is solid rock!
All is sea besides,

Sinks under us, bestorms, and then devours.
His hand the good man fastens on the skies,
And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl."

Thus Young, one of our great moral instructors, taught. He has expressed also the peculiar inspirations of this season, or what should be such,—charitable sympathy, mutual good-will, preference of mild and generous emotions to the gratification of any of the impulses of selfish cupidity and fear. It is enjoined by the highest authority, that humanity be made the minister of merciful Providence; that wealth, in the gross and hoarded, is disgrace and moral death, but that, when wisely diffused, honour and life-when well dispersed, "incense to the skies." To be Christians, the rich creditor must now be doubly liberal with his poor and unfortunate debtor; the friend more free in his aid; the charitable more ready and expansive in the distribution of his means. The poor are suddenly multiplied, and the pinches of indigence aggravated; numbers of worthy persons are reduced to unexpected straits; and every increase of these evils threatens many others. General forbearance, then, on the part of the more prosperous; some voluntary privations or sacrifices; a concert of public spirited and philanthropic efforts; the renunciation of mere prejudices: these are the true expedients of relief, and the duties of the critical juncture of a prolonged winter. When pleas for indulgence or succour are real,-when they have been rendered necessary by sudden misfortune and abrupt embarrassment,-when lenity or generosity may avert ulterior loss or final ruin,—no good, no wise man, will hesitate to comply with the times.

In regard to individual and family comfort, there is an infallible rule: Resolutely to smooth the brow; to reject the sombre ideas and the morbid anticipa

tions of gloom, to all amusement and indulgence compatible with duty and prudence. It is well, not merely to kindle the fire in the hearth, and defeat the inclemencies and dreariness of the external scene, but to make the heart and countenance glow and brighten, until the cast of thought loses all paleness and wrinkle. All this is salutary for the whole moral being, and conducive to the good regulation of every family circle.

Some such moral thoughts and sentimentalities, it may be conceived, are becoming the scene pictured in our plate of "Winter Evening." Perhaps the reader in that scene is a disciple of the poet of Olney. Has he not just repeated

"Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful ev'ning in."

"Here too the needle plies its busy task,
The pattern grows, the well-depicted flow'r,
Wrought patiently into the snowy lawn,
Unfolds its bosom; buds, and leaves, and sprigs,
And curling tendrils, gracefully disposed,
Follow the nimble fingers of the fair;

A wreath that cannot fade, flow'rs that blow
With most success when all besides decay.
The poet's or historian's page by one

Made vocal for th' amusement of the rest;

The sprightly, whose treasure of sweet sounds

The touch from many a trembling chord shakes out;
And the clear voice symphonious, yet distinct,
And in the charming strife triumphant still;
Beguile the night, and set a keener edge
On female industry: the threaded steel
Flies swiftly, and unfelt the task proceeds."

But yet the virtuous poor!

All the care

"With all their thrift they thrive not.
Ingenious parsimony takes, but just
Saves the small inventory, bed and stool,
Skillet and old carv'd chest, from public sale.

They live, and live without extorted alms

From grudging hands; but other boast have none,
To soothe their honest pride, that scorns to beg,

Nor comfort else, but in their mutual love.

I praise you much, ye meek and patient pair,
For ye are worthy; choosing rather far
A dry but independent crust hard earn'd,
And eaten with a sigh, than to endure
The rugged frowns and insolent rebuffs
Of knaves in office, partial in the work

Of distribution; lib'ral of their aid

To clam'rous importunity in rags,

But oft times deaf to suppliants, who would blush
To wear a tatter'd garb, however coarse,
When famine cannot reconcile to filth:
These ask with painful shyness, and refus'd
Because deserving, silently retire!

But be ye of good courage! Time itself

Shall much befriend you. Time shall give increase;
And all your num'rous progeny, well trained
But helpless, in few years shall find their hands,
And labour too. Meantime ye shall not want
What, conscious of your virtues, we can spare,
Nor what a wealthier than ourselves may send :-
I mean the man, who, when the distant poor
Need help, denies them nothing but his name."

"A CLOUD WAS O'ER MY SPIRIT, LOVE.”