the other hand, from the niggardly pittance of the miser. The former, by ignorance of, or inattention to his proper funds, may inconsiderately throw way what is not his own; he may thus feed the poor, and feed his own vanity, but what is given at the expence of others, is not charity; it is gross injustice. This folly and iniquity, however, can never justify the penurious, covetous, mean-spirited wretch, who cannot admit a thought or care beyond himself and his coffer. Wrapt up in unceasing attention to his useless wealth, he never believes himself able, because he never feels himself willing to relieve the necessities of others. How different, how superior to both these characters, is the man who knows what he can give, and has a heart to bestow ?Who, in the conscious possession of riches, values them only as the means of usefulness-receives and employs them as a sacred trust from the great Lord and Proprietor of all, and who, as his grateful and faithful steward, honours him with his substance. This is a man of an excellent, open, liberal spirit. "He looks not to his own things, "but to the things of others. He is not high"minded, but condescends to them of low estate. "He trusts not in uncertain riches, but in the

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living God, who giveth us all things richly to "enjoy," and he therefore lays them out for his glory, and the good of his fellow-creatures. "He " is rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to communicate." This cheerful liberality is not the effect of a great effort, produced by the violence of public demand, or the resistless cry of misery forcing attention, but it is the result of the prevailing direction of his mind. Like that God who is the object of his supreme affection, he waits to be gracious, and delights in showing mercy; "he deviseth liberal things; he giveth

liberally, and upbraideth not." Like the benevolent and beneficent Saviour, he is ready to seize every opportunity of showing kindness, and goes about doing good. He may not have silver or gold, to put into the hands of the poor and helpless, but he does not therefore shut up his bowels of compassion from them. Whatever is in his power to give, he gives without reluctance. If he cannot relieve them, he feels for them and weeps with them. A mind so willing never fails to find opportunities of doing good, and when they occur, he eagerly embraces them. The objections and apologies which satisfy others, are,

in his mind, quickly repelled, and yield at once to the more persuasive power of sympathy and love.

In the third place, true liberal charity is wisely divided amongst many, and proportioned to the objects upon which it acts. It is not, it cannot be confined to near relations, intimate friends, or particular favourites. These it will never neglect ; nay, to these its first attentions are naturally directed. But whatever may be its partialities to those immediately connected with us, or who love and resemble us, it cannot remain under these restrictions. The principle which gave it birth, extends its influence in every possible direction. The objects which solicit the friendly aid of charity, are many and various. Here we find the afflicted body,-there the grieved mind. Here a mourning desolate widow-there destitute orphans.-Perhaps both together sitting in silent dejection, or agitated with all the violence of grief. At one time we hear the plaintive voice of the friendless solitary mourner-at another, the unit. ed cries of a numerous starving family. Turn to the one hand, and feeble tottering old age requests support-turn to the other hand, and the desert

ed infant, or neglected youth, requires a kind interposition. These, and many similar cases of urgent necessity, claim the attention and care of the compassionate and generous. On such occasions, how does the man of liberal charity feel and act? Is theatrical representation necessary to rouse his sensibilities? Must he learn from the fictitious tale of misery to compassionate real distress? Must his heart be taught by the tongue of the pathetic orator to move with sentiments of generous sympathy? No! well-attested facts are sufficient to call them forth to the most seasonable and effectual exertions; or he repairs to the house of the mourners, and seeing, with his own eyes, and hearing, with his own ears, he mingles his tears with theirs-his heart overflows with the tenderest emotions, and his hand readily administers according to his abilities. Amidst such various scenes of sorrow, that which overwhelms him most is, that he cannot extend his help to all. This, however, checks not the ardour of his charity, but prompts his wisdom and prudence to contrive how he may most usefully divide his labours of love. He cannot think of devoting them entirely to one, or a very few, because thus they might receive too much, and others

too little. But while he cannot be confined within a very small circle, both prudence and charity forbid his taking too wide a range, lest he should defeat his own benevolent purposes; by extending thus too far, his means would prove unequal to the end. Much may be given away, and yet lose its effect, by being devided into so many small parts that almost none receive material benefit. He therefore considers who are the most needy, the most worthy, and what are their different resources, and he adapts his charity to their state and character. He clothes the naked, or feeds the hungry, or comforts the disconsolate, or educates the friendless youth, or administers counsel to the ignorant, the perplexed, and the unexperienced. Full of desire to answer all demands, when his own funds are insufficient, he thinks it not mean nor troublesome to ask assistance, and plead the cause of the destitute. He does not stop to inquire, who is my neighbour? By the ties of humanity he feels his heart knit to the whole human race. While he looks up with devotion and gratitude to their common parent, he looks around him with kind and tender attachment, and says, "Are we not all his offspring?"-These amiable and humane dispositions rise to a still