sure to throw even into the solitude of a man's bosom the sunshine of tranquillity and cheerfulness. What a delightful contrast to those melancholy beings who have no heart—who never tasted the joys of cordiality, whose bosoms never warmed to the animating spectacle of another's bliss and another's gaiety, who hedge themselves round with a set of the most freezing and repulsive ceremonies, who suffer none to approach them with confidence, who roll themselves up in their own solitary grandeur, and give to pride and to solemnity those hours which should have been spent in the interchange of agreeable manners and the luxury of social affections. I know not whether to hate or to pity them; but certain it is that they debar themselves from the choicest of all luxuries, and a luxury which no good mind would be willing to forego. Certain it is that the luxury of social affections is better than the parade and solemnity of forms-and that the vanity of their own importance is but a wretched atonement for the loss of those pleasures which spring from the exercise of kindness, and a heart that loves to indulge in another's joy.

In addition to the pleasure which springs from the very exercise of civility, there are other advantages which I forbear particularly to insist upon. I know nothing that is more calculated than a kind and conciliating manner to propitiate friends and secure the good wishes of all around you. It is the most popular of all virtues. It will go further to gain the affections of men than the most splendid deeds of beneficence. By relieving my wants you make me feel the load of an obligation; I blush at the humility of my own dependence, and am thrown to a most mortifying distance from that superior being whose beneficence sustains me. An act of charity is an offering not to me but to my wants; an act of civility carries along with it a more immediate homage to myself. I am the object of charity because I need it; but I am the object of civility not because I need it, but because I am thought to deserve it. There is on this account a soothing flattery in the attentions of civility that is far more grateful to the bosom of man than any other act or any other form of kindness which you choose to

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specify. It is not the favour which civility confers. The favour may of itself be a mere nothing-some obliging expression, or some soothing and attentive inquiry. It is the respect and tenderness which an act of civility implies; it is the delightful consciousness that I possess the sympathy of another's bosom. These are the feelings which give such a delicate charm to the exercises of civility, and bestow upon it a power over the affections of men which all the patronage of the great and all the charities of opulence can never equal. In addition to all this, let me also mention that the exercise of civility costs you nothing. It calls for no sacrifice of time or money or interest. There is nothing to fatigue or to consume you in this delightful exercise. It is the spontaneous flow of good affections, and consists in those little offices of kindness which can be discharged without trouble, and leave no loss or inconvenience behind them.

I now proceed to the second head of discourse, where I am to examine the happiness which civility confers upon those who are the objects of it. It is like the dew which droppeth upon the grass beneath. It blesses him who gives and him who receives it. The pleasure which we feel in receiving a kindness depends upon two causes: there is first the benefit conferred, and there is secondly, the agreeable feeling which springs in every bosom from its being the object of another's benevolence. In relieving the wretchedness of extreme poverty, the first is the predominant cause of the pleasure which we communicate. We have conferred an important benefit. We have appeased hunger, or given shelter to the naked and defenceless. In discharging an office of civility, again, the second is the predominant cause of the pleasure which we communicate. The benefit conferred may in itself have been of no consequence-a kind look or a respectful attention. The benefit may not be of such a kind as to better our circumstances, or bring along with it any other palpable advantage; but still there is a charm in the attentions of civility that is altogether independent of the benefit conferred. This charm lies in the consciousness of being the object of another's kindness, and in being supported by the

cordiality of another's attentions. It is a very gross way of calculating the matter to estimate the enjoyment which springs from benevolence by the magnitude of the gift which it confers. Civility presents no gift, but it comes forward with a far more delightful offering-the offering of agreeable attentions, and a manner expressive of cordiality and friendship. I maintain that the exercise of this virtue is more conducive to the happiness of society than the most liberal and expensive charities. What is it that perpetuates the harmony and friendship of a neighbourhood? It is the interchange of respectful attentions, and the little endearing expressions of civility. What is it that creates quarrels and fills the whole village with the uproar of controversy? It may sometimes be the cruelty of injustice, but it is far oftener the insolence of disdain, the sullenness of an unaccommodating manner, the mortifying negligence of those who count you unworthy of their attentions. What is it that throws a sunshine into the habitations of the wretched? Your charity relieves, but your civility revives them; it restores them to the dignity of the species, and makes them forget the cruelty of those humiliations which misfortune has entailed upon them. The meal which comes from the great man's house sustains them, and they try to be grateful for it; but gratitude comes at will, when they receive their forenoon visit from the loveliest of human beings, whose delight is in the dwellings of the poor, who loves to cheer them by her attentions, and to bless by the affability of her manners those humble cottages which surround the princely mansion of her father. Yes, there is something in the attentions of civility that is calculated to warm and to exhilarate the human bosom. I am not speaking of a gift or of a benefit; but there is something in the very sense of another's kindness that carries along with it the most gracious of enjoyments. Now the kindness of charity may hurt or may mortify its object; but the kindness of civility has no alloy. It carries along with it all the power and insinuation of the most delicate flattery. It is a clear and unmixed feeling, altogether purified from the grossness of obligation, and from those galling reflections which are ever sure to accompany a sense of dependence. If civility

can do so much, why, in the name of tenderness, should we withhold it? why refuse so simple an offering at the shrine of humanity? why retire to the solitude of our own importance, and disdain to mingle in kindness with those who are brethren of the same nature and children of the same beneficent Creator? We all sprung from heaven, and to heaven we are all pointing. Why should we cast out by the way? why deny so easy a sacrifice as the sacrifice of civility? why refuse so simple an offering as the offering of agreeable manners, and a countenance lightened up by the smiles of brotherhood and affection? what is it that induces you to withhold so easy an offering ?-are you afraid of committing your dignity by excessive condescension? It is very true that the kindness of a weak man often exposes him to ridicule. But I do not suppose you to be weak. What I want at present is to communicate to your feelings the temper of benevolence—and I take it for granted that you have sense enough to direct you in the exercise of this principle. There is certainly a way of descending to the exercises of civility, and in such a manner as to save your dignity and to sustain the importance of your character. A man, if he is weak, will render himself ridiculous in any direction, whether it be on the side of excessive kindness or excessive anxiety to keep up his importance. A man may render himself ridiculous by his excessive humility, and he may render himself as ridiculous by the excessive grandeur and solemnity of his manners. I know not whether to laugh or to cry when I witness those ridiculous beings whose great effort and anxiety in this world is to keep up their dignity; who are so lofty and so inaccessible; who must not be touched; who shelter themselves under the defence of a stately ceremonial; and whose whole behaviour is only calculated to overpower the diffident, or cause those who have a sufficient degree of nerve and firmness to be indifferent about them. Let me never hear, then, the argument of ridicule employed to discourage the exercises of a kind and condescending civility. If people wish for amusement, I would direct them to the opposite extreme of character, and assure them that they will there meet with far better game for the

exercise of ridicule. No; I would pity the weakness of those who were victims to an amiable but misguided benevolence of temper, while I would let out the full cry of ridicule against the wretched vanity of him who marches solemnly along, and thinks that by the stateliness of his manners he is to scatter awe and embarrassment around him.

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I observe that less evil results from the exercise of civility than any other virtue of the social character. It is in the power of charity to corrupt its object; it may tempt him to indolence; it may lead him to renounce all dependence upon himself; it may nourish the meanness and depravity of his character; it may lead him to hate exertion, and to resign without a sigh the dignity of independence. It could be easily proved that if charity were carried to its utmost extent, it would unhinge the constitution of society. It would expel from the land the blessings of industry. Every man would repose on the beneficence of another. Every incitement to diligence would be destroyed. The evils of poverty would multiply to such an extent as to be beyond the power even of the most unbounded charity to redress them; and instead of an elysium of love and of plenty, the country would present the nauseating spectacle of sloth and beggary and corruption. There is no such danger attending the exercise of civility. It draws no dependence along with; it gladdens the heart without corrupting it. Instead of degrading, it has rather effect to cheer and elevate and sustain the character. I want not the charity of my neighbour so long as I can rely on the native independence of my own exertions; but I would like at all times to be supported by his friendship, to be delighted by the civility of his manners, and to rejoice in the maintenance of a soothing and agreeable fellowship.

I also observe that the power of diffusing happiness is not the exclusive inheritance of the rich. All are capable of it. The poorest of men can cheer me by his affection, or distress. me by his hatred and contempt. He may not be able to relieve me by his wealth, but he is at least able to delight me by his civility. Every man is the dependent of another. A piece of