THE ART OF GIVING.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VI, Issue 140, 15 June 1871, Page 4

THE ART OF GIVING.

(From -the New York Tribune.) Goldsmith exquisitely satirised the blunder which a gift, even of the best intention, may be, in that oft-quoted line in "The Haunch of Venieon " — ".It's like send'ng them ruffles when , , wanting a shirt." . At tbis festive season, when everybody's heart is -warm and everybody's hand is open, the art of giving discreetly is one of i which all might wish to be possessors. It is the enigma of this Joyous period. The shops are runniug over with articles of splendour and utility ; the purchaser has money ia his purse and an honest desire to gratify his friend ; that friend he has known for years, or thought that he kuew ; and yet Ihe intending purchaser gazes in a puzzle upon the masses of mercliajidise, hesitating and higgling with himself, lucky at last if he does not. hit upon the absurdest selection. Shall it be book or picture, article of raiment, some-* thing to eat, or smoke, or drink, ornamental or useful, perishable or permanent ? This only shows how small, evem witty close intimacy, our understanding may be of each other ; for an enlightened friend-\ ship knows by a sort of intuition that which will be most useful or agreeable to its object ; aud out ot the largest assortment, it will lake at once the fittest. It finds no embarrassment in the largest stock of merchandise, for it knows beforehand what ib should purchase. The shopmen j|-would be less the slaves of their calling if cjrtiisfine tact were commoner. Thousands of women who hang over the counters, with a dishevelled pile of goods before them, hesitating, embarrassed, and seesawing in their poor, imbecile minds, having evidently not tact enough to make a gift expeditiously and intelligently even to themselves. Two-thirds of us all never outgrow this characteristic of childhood. Now we will have this and now that; now tbe drab and now tho blue; silk or poplin, which shall it be ; this at four shillings and the other at eight ? Women lead in this high hesitation ; but we men, be it admitted, have our share of it, and are not without our own lamentable lack of precision even in the major affairs of life. There is the old saw about lookiug a gift horse io the mouth ; but surely something must be pardoned to curiosity and something to the economy which demands to know whether the steed will be worth his stabling and grain. Gratitude is all very well ; but how is a bachelor to feel gratitude Jfor the gift of the finest , hooped skirt, or a" single*** Msy for the mbst beautiful pair of pantaloons ? A morsel of selfishness, must tningle, ever with our holiest affections. It- is irmatftg, even in the pleasant Chrisr&aKtimef to find the gift-giving running, asS-^9 may say, in ruts. It is not exhilarating "to receive from one's friends, upon the same day, eight Worsted slippers, and nine pen - vipers, even though each be of a different description. The monotony of donation is the result of the indecision of which we have spoken. The female mind, in the last stage of desperation, takes refuge in pen-wipers, or falls back upon Berlin .^too!. The intention is just a^s richly laudable, as possible ;. there is only^tlpoverty of resources. But there is no such trouble when .the donee is juvenile, the doll is infallible for the little girl, the wooden horse or gun for the male youngster ; nothing w&jcln-Santa Claus can put ini\p the stockingcomfes amiss. It ikof no consequence that the mouths of • ira ligneous horses .will not open— no real childwould ever think of looking into them. It % is one of the most painful things in tbe world to feel that we should dilate with emotions of gratitude, and yet be utterly unable to do so. This is the great vice of malapropos gift giving. Gradually, in spite of our efforts -^keep them soft, we feel our hearts indurating. "What the ducej" growls Jones, "does Smith mean by sending me* this box of cigars, when he knows that I have given up smoking for a twelvemonth ? " " Dear Mr. Jones," we say, "you must consider , the intention. w "Confound the intention," cJ^cks Jones. " why didn't he make it half-a-ctazen of that old sherry which I know he has in his cellar ?" ; and so the world goes ou; the gift steeds all stand in a row with their mouths wide open, with the heartless '■■• recipients peering into them. This, it must be allowed, is but a melancholy horse-shbw.X We are' like "the •little beggars who 1 scorn plain bread and butter, throw it back* into \l the area, and loudly demand cold roast beef with pickles to* Bql?cb. » We are a poor set, we men and women; but.&ow should we^bS .different in l^s matter of earthly gifts/while so many of us are ready to criticise the infinite generosity of Providence I V We ought to feel that the intention is everything ; but though it were '■ to save ourselves as from fire, we try to do so in vain/ Ah ! good .friends, i(i is, of. no, use yhafcever to try. y .Thankfulness must be spontaneous, and it never comes of trying.