one of the latter, much to his honor, shed tears! M. le President Mathias, in pronouncing Bonvouloir's acquittal, thus addressed him: You see, my good old man, that a benevolent action never goes unrewarded. You generously protected Bouvet in his childhood, and to-day he and his young wife come nobly forward to shelter your gray hairs. The tribunal feel happy in rendering you to their affection and their gra

Another instance is to the full as affecting as the one last given, and as radiant with melting power in demonstrating that kindness is never an unprofitable exercise. When the proud but unfortunate Cardinal Wolsey fell beneath the displeasure of Henry the Eighth of England, all his former friends despised and deserted him, with the exception of an individual by the name of Fitz-Williams, who had been patronized by Wolsey, and by whom his talents and good qualities had been appreciated and drawn out. Fitz-Williams took Wolsey to his country seat, and treated him as though he was still the favorite of the king. When the king heard of this conduct of Fitz-Williams, he sent for him, and in anger inquired why he harbored Wolsey when resting under the imputation of high trea

*Quoted from Galignani's Messenger, into the Universalist Union, vol. 1, p. 368.

son.

"Sire," said he, "it is not the disgraced minister or the state-criminal that I have received into my house; it is my benefactor and protector; he who has given me bread, and of whom I hold the fortune and tranquillity I enjoy. Ah, Sire, if I had abandoned him in his misfortune, I should have been the most ungrateful of men."* This kindness so affected Henry, that he conceived the highest esteem for Fitz-Williams, whom he knighted and created his Privy Counsellor. In this instance, kindness manifested a three-fold result. Wolsey found a reward for being kind to Fitz-Williams, in the protection he enjoyed-Fitz-Williams found a reward for being kind to Wolsey, in the satisfaction of his soul and the countenance of the king-while a proud and angry monarch was melted into a friend by the love of the law, "overcome evil with good."

The next instance is one which the reader will find capable of drawing forth his tears, not only at the heavenly kindness manifested in it, but also in viewing the tender sympathy, the true felicity and the warm attachment breathing throughout it. It is related by G. P. Morris, one of the Editors of the New-York Mirror,t in a delightful article on the preciousness of

* Parlor Book, p. 143. † See Mirror for Dec. 15th, 1832.

miniatures as mementos of departed friends.After speaking of their value, he says→→→

"Our thoughts were more particularly turned to this subject, by an occurrence which once took place within our immediate observation, and which must be responsible for the length of the time during which we have thus unwarily trespassed on the good nature of the reader. A poor, destitute Swiss, nearly sixty years of age, with a very imperfect knowledge of English, was taken into a family whom we are gratified to name among our friends, and in which the pervading spirit was kindness, peace and cheerful content, from the mistress to the lowest servant. She who superintended this little Eden, was herself all that became a wife, a mother and a friend. Through her intercession the wretched old man was taken out of the street, cleaned, clothed, treated well, and put to such labor as fitted his years and animated him with the consciousness of being useful without pressing too heavily upon his age and infirmities. It happened, although he came without recommendation, without a friend, and under circumstances of absolute beggary, that he was of a warm and grateful disposition, and a character inflexibly honest and noble. We shall not soon forget his broad picturesque forehead ploughed deep with wrinkles, and thinly clothed with silver hairs,

which to the gentle heart of his mistress had pleaded powerfully, and continued to secure to him a kind of good natured reverence and forbearance, as grateful in her as welcome to him. Poor old John! He had not a single friend in the wide world but those in that happy mansion; and though it is a bitter thing at any age to feel one's self adrift and friendless on the cold bleak ocean of life, and especially so when time has taken the strength from our limbs, and the hope from our heart, and we have no other prospect but to go down to the grave neglected to the last, and unblessed with those friendly offices which soften the grim face of death himself, yet old John, we verily believe, was contented in his situation; and never servant was more faithful and persevering in ministering to the wants of all. The children played around him, and pushed him about, as you have seen them presume upon the long established kindness of some ancient family mastiff, who takes all in perfect kindness, though the sight of a stranger would be followed by such a display of teeth, as would make a lion think twice before he concluded upon a conflict. The truth is, old John's mistress had won his heart. He did not only love, he revered her. Nothing made him so utterly happy, as an opportunity of doing her any service; and if there were an er

rand to be run-and the distance was far, and the night was stormy-so much the better. Old John would wrap his rough great-coat about him, and his good humored and fine looking face would glow with pleasure, as the gratitude of his honest soul shone through. Excellent old man! we wish there were more like thee, for the world's sake and for our own. Never gathered together a more delightful, a more delighted family circle, than drew around the fire-side of that well remembered mansion, when the wintry wind moaned by the well-barred shutters, and no member of it more cheerful than "old John." Indeed his peculiar characterhis simplicity-and with all, the beauty of his appearance, made him a favorite. He never got a cross word or a sour look in those golden times.

"One night a large party was given in a distant part of the city, to which they were all invited. A slight cold had been prevalent in the family, and among its earliest victims was Mrs. L

herself. The evening was tempestuous, and the exposure necessary in going and coming increased it to a degree almost alarming. A few days confined her to her bed. Physician after physician came, prescription after prescription, days, weeks, months, rolled gloomily away.The gay voice of mirth was hushed to a whis