Amidst the general call to happiness, the bustle of the
spirits, and stir of the affections, which prevail at this period,
what bosom can remain insensible? It is, indeed, the season
of regenerated feeling -- the season for kindling not merely the
fire of hospitality in the hall, but the genial flame of charity in
the heart. The scene of early love again rises green to mem-
ory beyond the sterild waste of years, and the idea of home,
fraught with the fragrance of home-dwelling joys, reanimates
the drooping spirit -- as the Arabian breeze will sometimes waft
the freshness of the distant fields to the weary pilgrim of the
desert.

Stranger and sojourner as I am in the land -- though for
me no social hearth may blaze, no hospitable roof throw open
its doors, nor the warm grasp of friendship welcome me at the
threshold -- yet I feel the influence of the season beaming into
my soul from the happy looks of those around me. Surely
happiness is reflective, like the light of heaven; and every
countenance bright with smiles, and glowing with innocent
enjoyment, is a mirror transmitting to others the rays of a su-
preme and ever-shining benevolence. He who can turn churl-
ishly away from contemplating the felicity of his fellow beings,
and can sit down darkling and repining in his loneliness when
all around is joyful, may have his moments of strong excite-
ment and selfish gratification, but he wants the genial and
social sympathies which constitute the charm of a merry
Christmas.

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