But here we may just notice, that some of those evils which afflict one portion of the human family are nevertheless the occasion of good, when they remind us of our common humanity.  Such painful events, for example, as the famine in the Highlands of Scotland, which called forth the sympathies of kindreds and tongues, unknown by name, to the sufferers, and was relieved by the inhabitants of China, and Hindostan; or the like famine in Ireland, which the Mohammedan sultan was among the first to help to alleviate; or the Syrian massacres, or Indian famine, that united Jew and Gentile, Protestant and Catholic, in the bonds of pity;—­these wounds of humanity are surely not without their good; when they afford an opportunity to the Samaritan of shewing mercy to the Jew, and cause the things which separate and the differences that alienate man from man, to be for a time forgotten in the presence of their common brotherhood.  And thus, too, the shutting of the Southern ports of America, which entails temporary distress upon many in our manufacturing districts, reminds us how the sufferings of others must be shared by ourselves, calls forth the benevolent sympathies of the rich to alleviate the wants of the needy, and bridges over with love and gratitude the gulf which too often separates classes; while, on the other hand, it may form the indirect means of developing the growth of cotton, and the consequent industry of thousands in Africa and India, who will thus be brought into closer and more fraternal relationships with civilised nations.

But there is another link, and one more spiritual, which binds man to man for good or evil, and that is moral character.  This influence is partly beyond and partly within the region of our will.  That which is beyond the will is the fact of the necessary influence of character; while within the will is the character, good or bad, which we may choose to possess.  Now, it cannot be questioned that character tells for good or evil beyond its possessor.  That which a man is—­that sum total made up of the items of his beliefs, purposes, affections, tastes, and habits, manifested in all he does and does not—­is contagious in its tendency, and is ever photographing itself on other spirits.  He himself may be as unconscious of this emanation of good or evil from his spirit, as he is of the contagion of disease from his body, or—­if that were equally possible—­of the contagion of good health.  But the fact, nevertheless, is certain.  If the light is in him, it must shine; if darkness reigns, it must shade.  If he glows with love, its warmth will radiate; if he is frozen with selfishness, the cold will chill the atmosphere around him; and if he is corrupt and vile, he will poison it.  Nor is it possible for any one to occupy a neutral or indifferent position.  In some form or other he must affect others.  Were he to banish himself to a distant island, or even enter the gates of death, he still exercises a positive influence, for he is a loss to his brothers; the loss of that most blessed gift of God, even that of a living man to living men—­of a being who ought to have loved and to have been beloved.  “No man liveth to himself, or dieth to himself;”—­he must in some form, for their good or evil, their gladness or sadness, influence others.