teful lives.
Tenderness possesses a sensitiveness of sympathy to an extreme
degree. It shrinks from the sight of suffering. It treats others
with "gentleness, delicacy, thought-fulness, and care. It enters into
feelings, anticipates wants, supplies the smallest pleasure, and studies
every comfort." Says one: "It belongs to natures, refined as well as
loving, and possesses that consideration of which finer dispositions
only are capable." Tenderness is a heart quality. It is the luxury of a
pure and intense friendship. It tempers one's entire nature, making
his whole being sympathetic with grace and favor. It is manifest in the
relaxing feature, in the penetrating glance, in the mellowing voice,
in the engracing manners, and in the complete obliteration of time and
distance, while with one's friend. We recall the friendly visits spend
with our friend, Lawrence W. Rowell, during his medical course in
Rush College, Chicago, while we were in attendance at the Northwestern
University, in Evanston, Illinois. Rowell was intellectual, spirited,
gifted in conversation, highly sympathetic, informed, critical, yet
charitable, a close student of human nature, a love of philosophy, of
musical temperament, of noble heart, of exalted purpose. Our visits were
kept up bimonthly throughout one year. We would spent Saturday evening
and Sunday together. Those visits revealed to me the magnetism,
intensity, and tenderness of a friend. Truly, with us time and distance
were almost completely obliterated from our consciousness. I say
distance, for we would walk together. Tenderness suits the amiable
and gentle in disposition, but it comes with a peculiar charm from
the austere nature. It is one of the stalwart virtues, and is often
concealed behind a crusty exterior. Severity and tenderness adorn the
greatest lives.

THE TEST OF FRIENDSHIP.

What is the uncertain mark of a friend? Have I a friend? How many
friends have I? I can invoice my stock, my goods, my land, my money,
can I invoice my friends? One may not always know the actual worth of a
friend, but he knows who are his friends, quite as well as he knows
who are his nephews and cousins. "A friend is one whom you need and who
needs you." Has one a bit of good news, he flies to his friend, he wants
to share it. Has one a sorrow, he seeks his friend who will gladly share
that. Does one meet with a defeat or victory, instantly he thinks of his
friend and of how it will effect him. Friend