ts are God's."

"On parent knee, a naked, newborn child,
Weeping thou satst while all around thee smiled;
So live that, sinking in thy last long sleep,
Calm thou mayst smile while all around thee weep."

THE FLIGHT OF TIME.

Age steals
Upon us like a snowstorm in the night:
How drear life's landscape now!--Henry Guy Carleton.

Whose hand,
Like the base Judean, threw a pearl away
Richer than all his tribe.--Shakspeare.

We are intrusted with a few short years, and yet with
more than we deserve. It is our misfortune to value those fleeting
moments only when our stock of them is in danger of utter exhaustion.
When the bright, beautiful days have vanished, and we find that, like
the base Judean's pearl, those days were richer than all our tribe--our
Vanderbilts, our Stanfords, and our Goulds--then we turn, in human
kindness, to our younger associates, and sound our warning in their
ears. According as our earnestness impresses them, they listen or they
hearken not. A golden thought which the young should learn by heart,
would run thus: _However highly I have valued this day, I have "sold it
on a rising market," and too cheaply. It would grow in value as I looked
back upon it, even if I were to live to my eightieth year_. This may not
seem true to you, who wish for Saturday night, that you may receive your
salary,--or to you, who long for Sunday, that you may gaze into a pair
of eyes that have deep beauties for you--but when your mother in your
babyhood, said a certain letter was "A,"

YOU HAD TO ACCEPT THE STATEMENT

without reservation, or you would not now be able to exercise the
grandest of human faculties--to read, to glean the thoughts of the ages,
and to receive, without toiling through the rugged regions of
experience, the impressions and the inspirations which have come to man
through all his labors and his pains. Sir William Hamilton has well said
that implicit belief is at the foundation of all human happiness--the
knowledge of the mind, as well as the certainty of the future life.

The mind is rarely broad enough in youth to survey the field of life
with an impartial view. "The years creep slowly by, Lorena," was
written in the true youthful, spendthrift spirit.

"COAL-OIL JOHNNY"

was left, as he supposed, inexhaustible riches. He threw away his money
as many of us throw away our live