selves to study the summer of life, rather than

its spring.

Most truly has it been said,—

"Sweet is the infant's waking smile,

And sweet the old man's rest;

But middle age by no fond wile,
No soothing care is blest.

"Still in the world's hot, restless gleam,

She plies her weary task;

While vainly for some pleasant dream,
Her wandering glances ask."

But the true work of life is carried on in this dusty and toilsome time.

The careworn, faded, unexcitable, uninteresting occupants of middle age, those are the real actors in the great drama of life. As they play their parts well, so are the young safe, and the old happy; and when we think of marriage, it is surely wise to contemplate it, not as it is when youth, in the first flush of loveliness and enthusiasm, sets forth upon its flower-strewn road; but as it will be when beauty shall have faded, and the excitement of feeling become deadened, and life shall be seen, not as the vista to an earthly Paradise, but the dangerous way along which man is to pass to death and judgment,

heaven or hell. And there are some facts which might, if freely considered, suffice to put middle age in a very different point of view from that in which it is usually seen. It must, if there is anything good in the individual, tend to unselfishness, especially with women. The young girl cares for herself, her own prospects, her own hopes and fears. Life is so new to her, so engrossing, that it is only by an effort that she can throw herself into the minds of others, so as to feel real sympathy. But a mother, or an aunt, or a friend, wearied with disappointment, and pressed down by care, has ceased to live for herself. When she joys, it is because those she loves are happy; when she grieves, it is because they are suffering. Self, indeed, may and does lurk under the holiest affections, but for the most part, God has ordained that by them we should be purified from the dross of the world, and so learn to live out of ourselves, to find our rest at last with Him. Neither may we forget that the most prosaic mind has its history, the calmest heart its tale of sorrow. When the complexion becomes dim, and the brightness of the eyes faded; when the outline of the features is sharpened, and silver streaks mingle with the dark hair, we say it is the work of time, and forget that each line which has marred the beauty

of the outward form may be but the mark of the chisel by which GOD has fitted the soul for heaven.

And surely there is no period of life more inestimably precious. If angels watch the struggle of middle age, it must be with very different eyes from those of man. The stiff, unenthusiastic, saddened old maid, the nervous, anxious mother, must be to them objects of the deepest, tenderest sympathy. So much of life has been passed, so little is still to come! The work of every moment must appear unutterably important. There is no leisure now for dreams; no youthful excitability can mislead for the present; no gilded hopes can beguile for the future. Life has been met and faced in its true colours, and now it is to be closely grappled with. GOD help those who are engaged in the conflict, for truly they have need of many prayers.

Sentences from Ursula.

328. NOTHING but the ocean of GOD's redeeming love can cleanse the foulnesses that even the best must contract as their life flows forth to Eternity.

329. Religion is the one thing to be considered above all others. That is the best lesson any one can acquire; all others are easy afterwards.

330. It is not the value we put upon one another, but what GOD puts upon us, that is of consequence.

331. There is often more mischief in repeating than in doing.

332. There is great comfort in this world in being able to help those who can't help themselves.

333. Great self-sacrifice is always more easy than patient endurance.

334. There is no foundation for friendship between persons of any rank, unless there is a feeling of respect which prevents either party from taking liberties, or being encroaching.

335. Poverty is the touchstone of pride.

336. When people marry, they are best left to themselves; especially at the beginning. After they have gone on some time, and become used to each other's ways, and learnt all there is to learn, a sister, or an aunt, may fit in well enough, particularly when there are children, and relations can make themselves useful. But at first setting off, depend upon it, it's best to give young married folks a push into the world, turn them round three times, and leave them to shift for themselves. Having no one else to turn to, they are forced then to keep close to each other.