ures, honors, joys; and rightly approached, the last years of the body's visible life should crown all that come before. Every man can be and should be as vigorous, hardy, happy and commanding at eighty as at forty; and every woman, too, for that matter. It is a common experience to hear some one say: "How fine looking Mrs.

is. She must have been a beautiful girl." And to hear the reply: "No, she was not nearly as good looking in her youth as she is now. Her beauty has developed with her years." And it may have been observed that this is said oftenest of men and women of high character. Nobility will tell upon the outward aspect. The carriage of the figure, the pose of the head, the expression of the face-these come to reveal, more and more, with the lapse of time, the inner life. There is something more than a mere pretty sentiment intended, where we read of "The beautiful face that is given to all who love in the true spirit of the Universal Brotherhood of Man." Unselfishness, sincerity, thoughtfulness, refinement-all of these graces of character which are worth so much more than mere outward shape and color-lend their charm to those who have consistently cherished them, until at sixty they may really become beautiful.

It is noticeable that art is more and more recognizing

this idea. Some of the most famous pictures are those which, without presenting a single figure of great physical beauty, illustrate the nobler emotions of the heart. Such is "The Breaking of Home Ties," which has attracted so much attention at Chicago recently; also "The Mourning Brave," and Briton Riviere's "Requiescat" (though a dog was here the touching exponent of a grand quality), and that wonderful "Last Muster." All such pictures are incentives to truer feeling and to nobler endeavor. The beauty which appeals merely to the eye must always be less real and less impressive than that which strikes upon the heart and thrills it to its core.

Conversely, mean traits traits of character-selfishness, parsimony, irritability, jealousy-shadow the face of their owner more and more as time goes on, reminding one of the old man in "Evangeline," whose "thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as they freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter." An old person who possesses low qualities, no matter how handsome he may have been in his youth, becomes repulsive in his age.

The poets have not neglected to make mention of the charms which old age may reveal. There are many passages which will occur to any one who will take the

trouble to reflect on the subject, but one in special is so fine that it ought to be quoted, describing a manly old

man:

What attractions are these beyond any before?

What bloom, more than the bloom of youth.

And another, often quoted:

Youth, large, lusty, loving youth, full of grace, force, fascination,

Do you know that Old Age may come after you, with equal grace, force, fascination?

TO FATHERS.

S

PEAK gently to the children, nor wound the tender heart,

The time may not be distant when you and they must

part:

So just forget the worries and the battles you've to fight, And in the quiet evening kiss them a warm "Good-night."

They, too, are swiftly nearing the battle-field of life;

And lest they should be worsted in the fight with sin and

strife,

Oh, gird them with the armor of a father's perfect love—

A shining, pure example of power within, above.

The trials that await them in the far off after years,
The happy childish laughter may melt to bitter tears,
The bonnie curls that cluster around your darling's brow,
The ruthless hand of sorrow may render white as snow.

Ah! then the recollection of a father's tender care

May smooth life's rugged pathway-may, save from

many a snare;

And in the hush of even, as in the days of yore,

In fond imagination they'll feel your kiss and more.

"Twill cool the burning forehead, 'twill raise their trust in God,

When the loving lips that gave it are cold beneath the sod; The hardest heart will soften-the tear-dimmed eyes

grow bright

At childhood's happy memories of a father's kind "Good

night."

HOME LIFE.

-John Clare

THE out-of-door blessings of home life for me,

O, or nudes all

, Health, riches, and joy-it includes them all three; There Peace comes to me-I have faith in her smileShe's my playmate in leisure, my comfort in toil.

mer

I walk round the orchard on sweet summer eves,

And rub the perfume from the black currant leaves, Which, like the geranium when touched, leave a smell That lad's love and sweet brier can hardly excel.

So I sit on my bench, or I rest in the shade;

My toil is a pastime, while using the spade;
My fancy is free in her pleasure to stray,
Making voyages round the whole world in a day.

Then I sit by the fire, in the dark winter's night,
While the cat cleans her face with her foot in delight;
And the winds all a-cold with rude clatter and din
Shake the windows, like robbers who want to come in.

Like a thing of the desert, alone in its glee,

I make a small home seem an empire to me;

Like a bird in the forest, whose world is its nest,

My home is my all, and the center of rest.