39. Kindness
Kindness is the music of good-will to men, and on this harp the smallest fingers in the world may play heaven's sweetest tunes on earth. Kindness is one of the purest traits that find a place in the human heart. It gives us friends wherever we may chance to wander. Whether we dwell with the savage tribes of the forest or with civilized races, kindness is a language understood by the former as well as the latter. Its influence never ceases. Started once, it flows onward like the little mountain rivulet in a pure and increasing stream. To show kindness it is not necessary to give large sums of money, or to perform some wonderful deed that will immortalize your name. It is the tear dropped with the mother as she weeps over the bier of her departed child; it is the word of sympathy to the discouraged and the disheartened, the cup of cold water and the slice of bread to the hungry one.
Kindness makes sunshine wherever it goes. It finds its way into the hidden chambers of the heart, and brings forth golden treasures, which harshness would have sealed up forever. Kindness makes the mother's lullaby sweeter than the song of the lark, and renders the care-worn brow of the father and man of business less severe in its expression. It is the water of Lethe to the laborer, who straightway forgets his weariness born of the burden and heat of the day. Kindness is the real law of life, the link that connects earth with heaven, the true philosopher's stone, for all it touches it turns into virgin gold; the true gold, wherewith we purchase contentment, peace, and love. Would you live in the remembrance of others after you shall have passed away? Write your name on the tablets of their hearts by acts of kindness, love, and mercy.
Kindness is an emotion of which we ought never to feel ashamed. Graceful, especially in youth, is the tear of sympathy and the heart that melts at the tale of woe. We should not permit ease and indulgence to contract our affection, and wrap us up in a selfish enjoyment; but we should accustom ourselves to think of the distresses of human life and how to relieve them. Think of the solitary cottage, the dying parent, and the weeping child. A tender-hearted and compassionate disposition, which inclines men to pity and to feel the misfortunes of others as its own, is of all dispositions the most amiable, and though it may not receive much honor, is worthy of the highest. Kindness is the very principle of love, an emanation of the heart, which softens and gladdens, and should be inculcated and encouraged in all our intercourse with our fellow beings.
Kindness does not consist in gifts, but in gentleness and generosity of spirit. Men may give their money, which comes from their purse, and withhold their kindness, which comes from the heart. The kindness which displays itself in giving money does not amount to much, and often does quite as much harm as good; but the kindness of true sympathy, of thoughtful help, is never without beneficent results. The good temper that displays itself in kindness must not be confounded with passive goodness. It is not by any means indifferent, but largely sympathetic. It does not characterize the lowest, but the highest classes of society.
True kindness cherishes and actively promotes all reasonable instrumentalities for doing practical good in its own time, and, looking into futurity, sees the same spirit working on for the eventual elevation and happiness of the race. It is the kindly disposed men who are the active men of the world, while the selfish and the skeptical, who have no love but for themselves, are its idlers. How easy it is for one benevolent being to diffuse pleasure around him, and how truly is one fond heart a fountain of gladness, making every thing in its vicinity to freshen into smiles. Its effect on stern natures is like the Spring rain, which melts the icy covering of the earth, and causes it to open to the beams of heaven.
In the intercourse of social life it is by little acts of watchful kindness recurring daily and hourly—and opportunities of doing kindness if sought for are constantly starting up—it is by words, by tones, by gestures, by looks that affection is won and preserved. He who neglects these trifles, yet boasts that, whenever a great sacrifice is called for, he shall be ready to make it, will rarely be loved. The likelihood is he will not make it, and if he does, it will be much rather for his own sake than for his neighbor's. Life is made up, not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little things, in which smiles and kindness and small obligations, given habitually, are what win and preserve the heart and secure comfort. The little unremembered acts of kindness and of love are the best portion of a good man's life. Those little nameless acts which manifest themselves by tender and affectionate looks and little kind acts of attention do much to increase the happiness of life.
Little kindnesses are great ones. They drive away sadness, and cheer up the soul beyond all common appreciation. They are centers of influence over others, which may accomplish much good. When such kindnesses are administered in times of need, they are like "apples of gold in pictures of silver," and will be long remembered. A word of kindness in a desperate strait is as welcome as the smile of an angel, and a helpful hand-grasp is worth a hundred-fold its cost, for it may have rescued for all future the most kingly thing on earth—the manhood of a man.
It should not discourage us if our kindness is unacknowledged; it has its influence still. Good and worthy conduct may meet with an unworthy or ungrateful return; but the absence of gratitude on the part of the receiver can not destroy the self-approbation which recompenses the giver. The seeds of courtesy and kindness may be scattered around with so little trouble and expense that it seems strange that more do not endeavor to spread them abroad. Could they but know the inward peace which requites the giver for a kindly act, even though coldly received by the one to be benefited, they would not hesitate to let the kindly feelings, latent in us all, have free expression. Kindly efforts are not lost. Some of them will inevitably fall on good ground, and grow up into benevolence in the minds of others, and all of them will bear fruit of happiness in the bosom whence they spring. It is better never to receive a kindness than not to bestow one. Not to return a benefit is the greater sin, but not to confer it is the earlier.
The noblest revenge we can take upon our enemies is to do them a kindness. To return malice for malice and injury for injury will afford but a temporary gratification to our evil passions, and our enemies will only be rendered more and more bitter against us. But to take the first opportunity of showing how superior we are to them by doing them a kindness, or by rendering them a service, is not only the nobler way, but the sting of reproach will enter deeply into their souls, and while unto us it will be a noble retaliation, our triumph will not unfrequently be rendered complete, not only by beating out the malice that had otherwise stood against us, but by bringing repentant hearts to offer themselves at the shrine of friendship. A more glorious victory can not be gained over another man than this, that when the injury began on his part the kindness should begin on ours.
The tongue of kindness is full of pity, love, and comfort. It speaks a word of comfort to the desponding, a word of encouragement to the faint-hearted, of sympathy to the bereaved, of consolation to the dying. Urged on by a benevolent heart, it loves to cheer, console, and invigorate the sons and daughters of sorrow. Kind words do not cost much. They never blister the tongue or lips, and no mental trouble ever arises therefrom. Be not saving of kind words and pleasing acts; for such are fragrant gifts, whose perfume will gladden the heart and sweeten the life of all who hear or receive them. Words of kindness fitly spoken are indeed both precious and beautiful; they are worth much and cost little.
Kind words are like the breath of the dew upon the tender plants, falling gently upon the drooping heart, refreshing its withered tendrils, and soothing its woes. Bright oases are they in life's great desert. Who can estimate the pangs they have alleviated, or the good works they have accomplished? Long after they are uttered do they reverberate in the soul's inner chamber, and, like low, sweet strains of music, they serve to quell the memory of bitterness or of personal wrong, to lead the heart to the sunnier paths of life. And when the heart is sad, and, like a broken harp, the chords of pleasure cease to vibrate, how peculiarly acceptable then are kind words from others!
Who can rightly estimate the ultimate effect of one kind word fitly spoken? One little word of tenderness gushing in upon the soul will sweep long-neglected chords and awaken the most pleasant strains. Kind words are like jewels in the heart, never to be forgotten, but perhaps to cheer by their memory a long, sad life, while words of cruelty are like darts in the bosom, wounding and leaving scars that will be borne to the grave by their victim. Speak kindly in the morning; it lightens all the cares of the day, and makes the household and other affairs move along more smoothly. Speak kindly at night; for it may be that before dawn some loved one may finish his or her space of life, and it will be too late to ask forgiveness. Speak kindly at all times; it encourages the downcast, cheers the sorrowing, and very likely awakens the erring to earnest resolves to do better, with strength to keep them. Always leave home with kind words; for they may be the last. Kind words are the bright flowers of earthly existence; use them, and especially around the fireside circle. They are jewels beyond price, and powerful to heal the wounded heart, and make the weighed-down spirit glad.
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