ded, was his declaration, that to say or do aught worth memory and imitation, no purpose or respect should sooner move us than love of God and mankind.
There is St. Vincent de Paul of France, once in captivity in Algiers.
Obtaining his freedom by a happy escape, this fugitive slave devoted himself with divine success to labors of Christian benevolence, to the establishment of hospitals, to visiting those in prison, to the spread of amity and peace.
Unknown, he repaired to the galleys at Marseilles, and, touched by the story of a poor convict, personally assumed his heavy chains, that he might be excused to visit his wife and children.
And, when France was bleeding with war, this philanthropist appears in a different scene.
Presenting himself to her powerful minister, the Cardinal Richelieu, on his knees he says, Give us peace: have pity upon us; give peace to France.
There is Howard, the benefactor of those on whom the world has placed its brand, whose charity — like that of the