CHARITY.

IN times past (though, of course, there is no such thing now) there have been many students here, with generous hearts and long purses, who have bought everything they thought they wanted without asking the price, and have given to every beggar that called, simply to get rid of them.

This recklessness of a few has brought its evils upon all; for it has made the generosity of students proverbial, and we are all looked upon as young Croesuses, and no price is too high for a student to pay.

Though this is perhaps the most serious evil of their careless generosity, it is not nearly so vexatious as the daily calls of bejewelled purchasers of old clothes, clerical-looking venders of every useless article, and begging impostors who tramp up and down our stairs and hammer at our doors.

It is not enough that prices should rise like the mercury before a south-wind whenever a student enters a store, but every unfortunate person who has heard of Harvard must arm himself with a certificate of high moral character, borrow a car-fare, and make a pilgrimage to this Mecca of boundless generosity. Our poor friend Jones is just weak enough to be food for all these hungry visitors. Endowed with that thirst for knowledge so common here, he is always found in his room, and his generous heart compels him to cry "Come in" at every knock on his door. Many a time has he sold his best coat - for the wretches will hardly look at an old one - at about one nineteenth of its value, and then been wheedled into taking his pay in cheap vases simply to get rid of his tormentors.

The other day he heard the unmistakable knock, and with a groan called out "Come in," when a young but dilapidated female entered. With many tears she told the ancient and somewhat threadbare story of the hard-hearted judge sentencing the innocent husband to the congenial labor of shoemaking for the benefit of the Commonwealth, and leaving her with fifteen small children to provide for. How could the husband of such a devoted woman be guilty of any crime? But Jones was too wise to be caught, and, steeling his heart, he tried to crush her by his formula: "It would afford me the sincerest gratification, madam, to furnish you with any pecuniary aid in my power, but I am constrained to say, with the poet, that 'chill penury has froze the genial current of my soul.'" This, delivered in pompous tones and with many a gesture, had its effect, - more sighs and tears. At length she summoned up courage to ask if he could n't give her a pair of old pants.

The appropriateness of the gift threw Jones completely off his balance, and I saw him part with his last pair, whereupon she departed, increased the number of children by two, again bathed her face in tears, and tried the same experiment on Brown.

But this is only one case. We have all of us been as badly duped, though in some other way. I have not forgotten the noble tar with matted hair, who "had layed in the water thirty-six hours" (though his breath had such a West-Indian scent about it that I was inclined to believe he had told but half the truth), and wanted money to relieve a companion who had been there some hours longer. But after I had given him something to relieve his companion's sad circumstances, I had the mournful satisfaction of seeing said companion himself divide the money on the church steps, and start for under the post-office; probably for more water. Nor shall I forget that beggar so utterly blind that he was led from room to room by a small boy, who nevertheless managed, with wonderful quickness, to detect said boy in the act of appropriating some of the scrip. Surely, "there are none so blind as those who will not see," and this man was a deserving object of charity.

But the most charming feature in all these men is the intense interest they manifest in our culture and morals. Scarce a day passes over our heads that some philanthropic gentleman does not try to cultivate our taste for art by thrusting upon us poor engravings and cheap chromos; or that some gentleman, fresh from the Divinity School, and with its odor of sanctity about him, does not try to sell us a book which is the very thing to turn the hardened student from his evil ways, and give him the true view of life. The disappointment they show when refused can surely result from nothing but their sorrow at our blindness to our own interests, and is enough to make a tenderhearted man repent and invest. The utter absurdity of the articles offered for sale makes no difference; for the man who tries to make you, who always wear laced shoes, believe that the Combined Bootjack and Towel-rack is an indispensable article, lingers as long in the room as the man who sells Bibles. Let no one infer that I think that students should not give in charity. Without doubt they might make the best possible use of some of their spare pocket-money by relieving real distress. But these people who haunt our rooms not only are a nuisance, but also prevent all true charity by offering such worthless objects of it.