THE BEAUTY OF OLD AGE.

ERON, an old man of eighty years, was one day sitting before the door of his rustic dwelling enjoying the bright and cheerful autumn morning. His eye rested now upon the blue hills in the distance, from whose tops the mist was stealing upward like the smoke of burnt offerings, and now upon his mirthful grandchildren, who were sporting around him. A youth from the city approached the old man, and entered into discourse with him. When the youth heard the number of his years from his own lips, he wondered at his vigorous age and his ruddy countenance; whereupon he asked the old man, whence it came that he enjoyed such strength and cheerfulness in the late autumn of life? Geron answered: "My son, these, like every other good thing, are gifts which come to us from above, the merit of which we cannot claim to ourselves, and still we can do something here below to enable us to obtain them." Having uttered these words, the old man arose, and led the stranger into his orchard, and showed him the tall and noble trees covered with delicious fruit, the sight of which gladdened the heart. Then the old man spoke: "Canst thou wonder that I now enjoy the fruit of these trees? See, my son, I planted them in my youth; thou

hast the secret of my happy and fruitful old age." The youth cast a look full of meaning upon the old man, for he understood his words, and treasured them up in his heart.

-Brumacher.

A GOOD OLD MAN is the best antiquity; one whom time hath been thus long a working, and, like winter, ripened when others are shaken down. He looks over his former life as a danger well past, and would not hazard himself to begin again. The next door of death saps him not, but he expects it calmly, as his turn in nature. All men look on him as a common father, and on old age, for his sake, as a reverent thing. He practices his experience on youth, without harshness or reproof, and in his council is good company. You must pardon him if he likes his own tines better than these, because those things are follies to him now, that were wisdom then; yet he makes us of that opinion, too, when we see him, and conjecture those times by so good a relic. -Bishop Earl.

THE GRANDEUR OF OLD AGE.

Blessed old age, if you let it come naturally. The grandest things in all the universe are old. Old mountains; old rivers; old seas; old stars; and an old eternity. Then do not be ashamed to be old, unless you are older than the mountains, and older than the seas.

-Talmage.

GOD CARES.

ET me tell you," said the friend with whom I was conversing, "how God taught me about His loving kindness, so that I have believed in it ever since. It was in so

simple a way, that a voice from heaven addressed directly to me, would not, I think, have been more impressive. "It was some time ago, when my health was so poor, you remember, and these pecuniary troubles were pending, and everything worried and vexed me so, that it was hard to feel that God was good. In this mood I walked into the field one day to be alone a little, and rest and think. The strawberries were plentiful, and almost unconsciously I began picking a handful on the long stems, while my thoughts took the form of half soliloquy, half prayer, 'Dear Lord, dost Thou care? These anxieties are wearing me out; these burdens, petty as they seem to everybody else, are weighing me to the very dust; and are borne to no purpose either. But if I could know my Lord did care, all would be easier. Oh, show me that, poor and insignificant as I am, Thou dost think lovingly of me.' Just then, by a sudden impulse, I arose and hastened some steps in an opposite direction. Recalled by the movement to myself, I thought, with a little surprise, 'Why did I

leave that spot where the berries were large and nice?' Curiosity led me back, where I saw-what my preoccupied mind and tearful eyes prevented my seeing before-a ground-sparrow's nest, full of tiny day-old birdlings! One step more and, had I not heeded that strong impulse to turn away, I should have crushed them. Could I help knowing it was the sparrow's God that kept me from destroying them? And could I help believing, that He who watched the sparrows cared for me? That sweet, delicious sense which then came over me, that I, with my little humble interests, was daily dear to God, will, I believe, never leave me till I die. I knelt down by the little birds that brought me this great comfort, and praised God; then went home, saying over thankfully, to myself, the dear Christ's words: Not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father. Fear ye not, therefore; ye are of more value than many sparrows.'

When my

friend had finished her little story, we sat a

few minutes in silence, thinking—

"Behold how Jesus trusts Himself

Unto our childish love."

"I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me; Thou art my help and my deliverer."

-Psalms 40: 17.

"For he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake

thee."

-Hebrews 13: 5.

THE REFINER OF SILVER.

OME time since, a few ladies who met in Dublin to read the Scriptures, and make them. the subject of conversation, were reading the third chapter of Malachi. One of the ladies gave it as her opinion that the "fuller's soap" and the "refiner of silver" were the same image, both intended to convey the same view of the sanctifying influence of the grace of Christ; while another observed, there is something remarkable in the expression in the third verse: "And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver." They agreed that possibly it might be so; and one of the ladies proposed to call on a silversmith, and report to them what he said on the subject. She went accordingly, and without telling the object of her errand, begged to know the process of refining silver, which he fully described to her.

But, sir," she said, "do you sit while the work of refining is going on?"

"Oh, yes, madam," replied the silversmith; "I must sit with my eye steadily fixed on the furnace, for if the time necessary for refining be exceeded in the slightest degree, the silver will be injured."

She saw at once the beauty, and comfort too, of the