A MAN's value and progress in this life must be measured, not by what he gets outwardly, but by what he gains inwardly. The beauty of a rose lies not in its encasements, but in the delicacy of its leaf-tinting and the delicious sweetness which rises out of its blushing bosom. So with man. It is the color and fragrance of his nature within, it is the richness of his inward experience, and not the grandeur and quality of his surroundings, which constitute his real glory and charm.

Rev. W. H. H. Murray.

Ir there be memory in the world to come,
If thought recur to some things silenced here,
Then shall the deep heart be no longer dumb,
But find expression in that happier sphere;
It shall not be denied the utmost sum

Of love to speak without or fault or fear,
But utter to the harp, with changes sweet,

Words that, forbidden still, then heaven were incomplete. Jean Ingelow.

At the end of life a man finds himself rich, not so much by his fortunes as by his misfortunes. The Persians had a vase of glass which when empty was colorless, but when filled with wine, flashed forth many rare pictures. So a bosom empty of a heart of pain makes a lustreless life; but a bosom in which a heart bleeds reveals hidden virtues.

Theodore Tilton.

How much so ever in this life's mutations
We seek our shattered idols to replace,
Not one in all the myriads of the nations
Can ever fill another's vacant place.

Each has its own, the smallest and most humble,
As well as he, revered the wide world through;
With every death some love and hope must crumble,
Which strive to build themselves anew.

If the fair face of violets should perish
Before another springtime had its birth,
Could all the costly blooms which florists cherish
Bring back its April beauty to the earth?

Not the most gorgeous flower that uncloses
Could give the olden grace to vale and plain,
Not even Persia's gardens full of roses,

Could ever make the world so fair again.

And so with souls we love; they pass and leave us― Time teaches patience at a bitter cost;

Yet all the new loves, which the years may give us, Fill not the heart-place aching for the lost.

XXVIII.

RARE BRILLIANTS.

THE life is measured by the soul's advance.

LIFE has been awfully injured when it looks only back. David Swing.

OFT in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.

Wordsworth.

THE line of life is a ragged diagonal between duty and desire.

W. R. Alger.

YOUTH should be a saving's bank.

Madame Swetchine.

LIFE, whether in this world or any other, is the sum of our attainment, our experience, our character. The conditions are secondary. In what other world shall we be more surely than we are here.

LIFE is a dream, and death an awakening.

Chapin.

Beaumelle.

LIFE's evening will take its character from the day which has preceded it.

Bishop Shuttleworth.

A VERY little part of our life is so vacant from uneasiness as to leave us free to the attraction of remoter good.

Locke.

NOTHING can be so sad as confinement for life, nor so sweet, please your honor, as liberty.

LIFE, like a dome of many-colored glass,

Sterne.

Stains the white radiance of eternity.

Shelley.

A WIDE, rich heaven hangs above you, but it hangs high; a wide, rough world is around you, and it lies very low. Donald J. Mitchell.

LIFE, like the waters of the seas, freshens only when it ascends towards heaven.

Richter.

THE Woof of life is dark, but it is shot with a warp of

gold.

F. W. Robertson.

WHILE we are reasoning concerning life, life is gone.

Hume.

LIFE is a crucible. We are thrown into it, and tried. The actual weight and value of a man are expressed in the spiritual substance of the man. All else is dross.

Chapin.

LIFE went a-maying with nature, hope and poesy, when I was young.

Coleridge.

PLUNGE boldly into the thick of life! Each lives it. Not to many is it known; and seize it where you will, it is interesting.

Goethe.

INSPECT the neighborhood of thy life; every shelf, every nook of thy abode; and, nestling in, quarter thyself in the farthest and most domestic winding of thy snail-house.

Richter.

MAN carries under his hat a private theater, wherein a greater drama is acted than is ever performed on the mimic stage, beginning and ending in eternity.

Carlyle.

WE paint our lives in fresco. The soft and fusile plaster of the moment hardens under every stroke of the brush into eternal rock.

Sterling.

ALL die who have lived; all have not lived who died.

Zimmerman.

THERE are some men formed with feelings so blunt that they can hardly be said to be awake during the whole course of their lives.

Burke.

THE truest end of life is to know the life that never ends.

William Penn.

O that I less could fear to lose this being, which, like a snow-ball in my coward hand, the more it's grasped the faster melts away!

Dryden.

GOD proves us in this life, that he may the more plenteously reward us in the next.

Wake.

*

LIFE appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs. We are, and must be, one and all, burdened with faults in this world, but the time will come when, I trust, we shall put them off in putting off our corruptible bodies; when debasement and sin will fall from us with this cumbrous frame of flesh. It is a creed in which I delight, to which I cling. It makes eternity a rest, a home-not a terror and an abyss. With this creed, revenge never worries my heart, degradation never too deeply disgusts me, injustice never crushes me too low; I live in calm, looking to the end.

Charlotte Bronté.

ALL common things, each day's events,
That with the hour begin and end,

Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.

Longfellow.

It is impossible for that man to despair who remembers

that his Helper is omnipotent.

Jeremy Taylor.

No story is the same to us after the lapse of time; or rather, we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.

George Eliot.

SOLICITUDE is the audience-chamber of God.

Landor.