In so far as he himself is concerned these gifts do not involve any element of personal sacrifice; the moral benefit which is by way of falling on a giver is therefore nil. The exertion of writing a cheque or banker’s order and the satisfaction of imposing a tax on himself complete the transaction on his side. Occasionally the sight of his name published at the head of a list with a large figure next it gives him a further agreeable sensation, and he can become famous as a household word of generous philanthropy without the very smallest personal inconvenience. But as an instance of pure charity--that is, loving sacrifice--the poor woman who gives a penny from her meagre store is on an entirely different plane. The picture presents itself to the present writer of a woman at the doorway of a wretched tenement, with her child in her arms, giving to a passing vagrant who was suffering from hunger and fatigue a penny from the few coins she had in her purse. The expression of her face as she handed him the money was the most sublime illumination of pure charity--no subscription list in the newspapers, no public recognition, and the sacrifice, not of luxuries, but of something that she and her baby needed. That something went with her penny, and in return she received something else for which there is no price, no name, and no description. From such an experience as this the rich are for ever cut off. “Probably the most generous people in the world,” says J. D. Rockefeller, perhaps realising that charity is something he can never reach, “are the very poor, who assume each other’s burdens in the crises which come so often to the hard pressed.”