this? None, while his heart was so filled with evil
affections, which are always tormentors. He did not see this. Though
his guests disturbed and afflicted him, he called them friends, and
gave them entertainments of the best his house afforded.

Sometimes Pity came to the door of his heart and asked for admission,
but he sent Unkindness to double bar it against her. Generosity
knocked, but Avarice stood sentinel. Envy was forever refusing to let
Good-will, Appreciation, Approval, Delight, come in. Detraction would
give no countenance to Virtue and Excellence. Doubt made deadly assault
upon Faith, and Trust, and Hope, whenever they drew near, while
Ill-will stood ever on the alert to drive off Charity, Loving-kindness
and Neighborly regard. Unhappy man! Fiends possessed him, and he knew
it not.

It so happened on a time, that Markland, while standing in one of his
well-filled ware-houses, saw a child enter and come towards him in a
timid, hesitating manner.

"A beggar! Drive her away," said Unkindness and Suspicion, both
arousing themselves.

Markland was already lifting his hand to wave her back, when
Compassion, who had just then found an old way into his heart, hidden
for a long time by rank weeds and brambles, said, in soft and pitying
tones:

"She is such a little child!"

"A thieving beggar!" cried Unkindness and Suspicion, angrily.

"A weak little child," pleaded Compassion. "Don't be hard with her.
Speak kindly."

Compassion prevailed. Her voice had awakened into life some old and
long sleeping memories. Markland was himself, for a moment, a child,
full of pity, tenderness and loving-kindness. Compassion had already
uncovered the far away past, and the sweetness of its young blossoms
was reviving old delights.

"Well, little one, what is wanted?"

Markland hardly knew his own voice, it was so gentle and inviting.

How the pale, pure face of the child warmed and brightened! Gratefully
with trust and hope in her eyes, she looked up to the merchant. There
was no answer on her lips, for this unexpected kindness had choked the
coming utterance. Rebuff, threat, anger, had met her so often, that
soft words almost surprised her into tears.

"Well, what can I do for you?"

Compassion held open the door through which she gained an entrance, and
already Good-will, Kindness and Satisfaction had come in.

"Mother is sick," said the child.

"A lying vagrant!" exclaimed Suspicion, jarring the merchant's inw