There liveth not one among a million, who is proof against the charm of liberality,

And flattery, that boon of praise, hath power with the wisest.

Man is of three natures, craving all for charity:

It is not enough to give him meats, withholding other comfort;

For the mind starveth, and the soul is scorned, and so the human animal

Eateth its unsatisfying pittance, a thankless, heartless pauper:

Yet would he bless thee and be grateful, didst thou feed his spirit,

And teach him that thine almsgivings are charities, are

loves :

-I saw a beggar in the street, and another beggar pitied

him;

Sympathy sank into his soul, and the pitied one felt

happier :

Anon passed by a cavalcade, children of wealth and

gaiety;

They laughed, and looked upon the beggar, and the gallants flung him gold;

He, poor spirit-humbled wretch gathered up their givings with a curse,

And went

to share it with his brother, the beggar who had pitied him!

Of Beauty.

Thou mightier than Manoah's son, whence is thy great strength,

And wherein the secret of thy craft, O charmer charm

ing wisely?

For thou art strong in weakness, and in artlessness wellskilled, Constant in the multitudes of change, and simple amidst intricate complexity.

Folly's shallow lip can ask the deepest question,

And many wise in many words should answer, what is beauty?

Who shall separate the hues that flicker on a dying dolphin,

Or analyse the jewelled lights that deck the peacock's train,

Or shrewdly mix upon a pallette the tints of an iridescent spar,

Or set in rank the wandering shades about a watered silk ?

For beauty is intangible, vague, ill to be defined; She hath the coat of a chameleon, changing while we watch it.

Strangely woven is the web, disorderly yet harmonious, A glistening robe of mingled meash, that may not be unravelled.

It is shot with heaven's blue, the soul of summer skies,
And twisted strings of light, the mind of noonday suns,
And ruddy gleams of life, that roll along the veins,
A coat of many colors, running curiously together.
There is a threefold beauty for man; twofold beauty for
the animal;'

And the beauty of inanimates is single: body, temper, spirit.

Multiplied in endless combination, issue the changeable results;

Each class verging on the other twain, with imperceptible gradation;

And every individual in each having his propriety of difference,

So that the meanest of creation bringeth in a tribute of

the beautiful.

Yea, from the worst in favor shineth out a fitness of

design,

The patent mark of beauty, its Maker's name imprest.
For the great Creator's seal is set to all his works;
Its quarterings are Attributes of praise, and all the
shield is beauty:

So, that heraldic blazon is Creation's common signet ; And the universal family of life goeth in the colors of its Lord:

But each one, as a several son, shall bear those arms with a difference;

Beauty, various in phase, and similar in seeming oppositions.

The coins of old Rome were struck with a diversity for

each;

Barely two be found alike, in every Cæsar's image: So, note thou the seals, ranged around the charters of the Universe,

The finger of God is the stamp upon them all, but each hath its separate variety.

Beauty, theme of innocence, how may guilt discourse thee?

Let holy angels sing thy praise for man hath marred thy visage.

Still, the maimed torso of a Theseus can gladden taste with its proportions;

Though sin hath shattered every limb, how comely are the fragments!

And music leaveth on the ear a memory of sweet sounds; And broken arches charm the sight with hints of fair completeness.

So, while humbled at the ruin, be thou grateful for the relics;

Go forth, and look on all around with kind uncaptious

eye:

Freely let us wander through these unfrequented ways. And talk of glorious beauty, filling all the world.

For beauty hideth everywhere, that Reason's child may seek her,

And having found the gem of price, may set it in God's

crown.

Beauty nestleth in the rosebud, or walketh the firmament with planets,

She is heard in the beetle's evening hymn, and shouteth in the matins of the sun;

The cheek of the peach is glowing with her smile, her splendor blazeth in the lightning,

She is the dryad of the woods, the niad of the streams; Her golden hair hath tapestried the silkworm's silent chamber,

And to her measured harmonies the wild waves beat in time;

With tinkling feet at eventide she danceth in the meadow, Or, like a Titan, lieth streached athwart the ridgy Alps; She is rising, in her veil of mist, a Venus from the waters,

Men gaze upon the loveliness, and lo, it is beautiful exceedingly;

She, with the might of a Briareus, is dragging down the clouds upon the mountain, Men look upon the grandeur, -and lo, it is excellent in glory.

For I judge that beauty and sublimity be but the lesser and the great,

Sublime, as magnified to giants, and beautiful, diminished into faries.

It were a false fancy to solve all beauty by desire,

It were a lowering thought to expound sublimity by dread. Cowardly men with trembling hearts have feared the furious storm,

Nor felt its thrilling beauty; but is it then not beautiful? And careless men, at summer's eve, have loved the dimpled waves;

O that smile upon the seas, - hath it no sublimity?
Dost thou nothing know of this, to be awed at wo-

man's beauty?

Nor, with exhilarated heart, to hail the crashing thunder:

Thou hast much to learn, that never found a fearfulness in flowers;

Thou hast missed of joy, that never basked in beauties of the terrible.

Show me an enthusiast in aught; he hath noted one thing narrowly,

And lo, his keenness hath detected the one dear hidingplace of beauty:

Then he boasteth, simple soul, flattered by discovery, Fancying that no science else can show so fair and pre

cious:

He hath found a ray of light, and cherisheth the treasure in his closet,

Mocking at those larger minds, that bathe in floods of

noon;

Lo, what a jewel hath he gotten, this is the monopolist

of beauty,

--

And lightly heeding all beside, he poured his yearnings thitherward:

Be it for love, or for learning, habit, art, or nature,

Exclusive thought is all the cause of this particular zeal. But the like intensity of fitness, kind and skilful beauty, So pleasant to his mind in one thing, filleth all beside: From the waking minute of a chrysalis, to the perfect cycle of chronology,

From the centipede's jointed armor to the mammoth's fossil ribs,

From the kingfisher's thrill note, to the cataract's thundering bass,

From the greensward's grateful hues, to the fascinating eye of woman,

Beauty, various in all things, setteth up her home in each,

Shedding graciously around an omnipresent smile.

There is beauty in the rolling clouds, and placid shingle beach,