in strength by the discipline. This will be found. to be an excellent exercise in a family, a thousand times better table-talk than the ordinary chitchat.

The terminology of any branch of natural science would make as good mnemonic gymnastics, helping the young people to a sure knowledge of what they certainly need to know, and keeping the older folk from degeneracy on account of the disuse of memory.

But one says, "I am so full of work and care I can not find time for mental discipline." We take time to eat because we can not live and keep our strength for work without food. If we must starve a part of our being, let it not be the nobler, the better, the immortal.

Where there's a will there's a way. Elihu Burritt mastered languages, science, literature, while supporting his family by working at his anvil.

Let the successful business man decide whether it will pay for a few paltry dollars more than his neighbor has the charge of, or a trifle better furnished house, or more elegant style of living, to cramp and dwarf his mind till he knows nothing but loss and gain and prices current.

Let the lady who never has time for study and thought weigh the matter fairly, and decide

whether it will not be better for her to have a few pieces less of the twists and tangles of bright worsteds, a little plainer house-gear and simpler adornments for her person, and secure instead that sure, quiet strength of soul that will enable her to ward off the attacks of old age by and by.

When

Work or perish is the absolute law. one begins to say, "I can not learn that, I am too old," his doom is sealed. Henceforth the chimney-corner! They who will work can keep their place in the ranks of workers in spite of of Time.

Humboldt wrote his "Kosmos" at fourscore. Isocrates finished one of his great works at ninety-seven. Theophrastus wrote his keen and sprightly "Characters" when a a centenarian. Gorgias lived to the age of one hundred and seven, and died with the significant expression upon his lips, "Sleep is now beginning to lay me in the hands of his brother." Death came to Mary Somerville when she was ninety-two, and found her busy upon her abstruse and difficult astronomical mathematics-working her problems only a few hours before she fell asleep.

But the greatest, the saddest mistake is to imagine that the years must dull our devotional fervor, cripple our spiritual powers, and destroy

our usefulness.

It is a trick of Satan to crowd

out of the ranks those who have the best equipment for service-a ripe, full Christian perience.

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God has said, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Does not that include the whole of probation? "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness." Does not that cover all our infirmities? "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." Does not his presence insure constant development and growing usefulness?

I remember a beautiful woman who could hardly have been lovelier in any of her life than in the last years, when she was over ninety. She entertained us at the piano with music that she composed sixty years before. She was fully in sympathy with all the aggressive work of good people, and kept pace in her prayers and faith with each movement. "I can't go to your missionary meeting to-night," she said in her sweet, simple way, as we were starting to our anniversary," but I will try and help a little here at home.'

"I knew you'd have a good meeting," she said, when we returned, her face aglow with the glory of the world beyond. "My heart was so

warm when I talked to the

Master about your

work." Who can tell which rendered the most

helpful service that night, we at the church, or she in her room "talking to the Master?"

As sunset hours are usually the most glorious of the day, so the last years ought to be, of all, most replete with beauty and excellence, rich with the ingatherings of time and the foreshadowings of the blessedness that is soon to be revealed. "The hoary head is a crown of glory; if it be found in the way of righteousness.

For what a glorious, eternal garnering may one hope who has spent a long life in the service of the Master.

THE END