Year: 1876

OF first things there can be but few; but
OF renewed things there are enough to keep
ever alive the joy which will root itself in
ithe old, TO blossom with fresh beauty and
bring forth the fruit on which the soul may
richly banquet. The first spring that ever
lifused its odors and displayed the garniture
u which it was arrayed, had only the stars


or its beholders, But renewed springs have
oeen the guests of all successive generations,
and will continue to be until the end. The
FIRST autumn that received its coronation
passed silently on to the investing shadows
)f the first winter but autumns have come
back lgain and again to wake a strange be-
cause ncomprehensible rapture in the hearts
lf a multitude of the human race.


When the leaves fall and the festival Of
summer comes to its close, there is a renewal
of emotions in the mind, which are the same
with difference so often as the autumnal
Urges are heard TO sound. We are all more
or less sympathetic with Nature. We are
wrought upon by her moods, and cannot es-
,ape their power to stir or mould the feel
ngs which give tone and character to our
passing hours. But we are stronger than
Nature because our spirits are of supernatu-
'al origin, and have the potency which over
ops material surroundings.


These reflections have come to me while
seated before the first rekinded fire on the
family hearth, wherewith we relight the
,orches of domestic comfort, and flash def
lnce at the chill and sombre storm that rules
without. 1t is no hidden Tartarau fire,
emhowelled down in the depths of an un.
seer and unsympathetic furnace, which
yiel Is devitalizing blasts of passionate rage.
1t i, a fire on the hearth-stone, kindled OF
wood planted by divine hand, reared amid
the commingled tenderness of summer and
tierceness of winter wood that once waved
in majesty its salutatious at dawn, aud bid
its farewell to day under the glowing can
opy Of the sunset hour. What charm
there is in flames They have the hues OF
iris they throw reflections which are as
friendly as the play of solar rays upon a bed
Of flowers they have warmth which goes
to the heart, and draws to itself the family
circle, and sheds quiet comfort all around.
Its tongues, long or short, have something in
them we love to hear. They speak and they
sing of the coming days and the coming
nights, when the hearth-stone shall take the
place of many fond delights which have van
ished with the golden hours of summer,
They foretell the return of the indoor work
Dr sport or pastime, whereby winter shall be
lespoiled of its terrors and the talk shall
90 on, and the book shall be read, aud the
garment shall be embroidered, aud the poem
Shall leap out of the heart while the un-
bought peace and sacred composure of the
home shall difuse wealth and blessing, as
the fire bazes on the hearth, and its illumi-
nations lift the thoughts toward Him who
msphered the worlds in light, and kindled
the fires Of that eternal glory in which only
adoring seraphim and cherubim can stand
with yelled faces, while they worship in the
glow of an inexpressible love.


The first rekindled fire of autumn has a
poetry all its own. 1t crackles with tales OF
vanished years, when the children were
young, when the family remained unbroken,
when friends were near who are now far off
IN the land Beautiful. 1t recalls the long
ago with a sparkling vivacity that cheers
The memory, though oppressed with sorrow.
il shines on mirrors and pictures and win
dows and walls, as though it had an angels
mission, and were intent upon making its
brightness TO be solvent for WEAKNESS and
care. Then, too, it sends forth a solemn re-
frain of elegiac tenderness as its vigor de
eines and, in the gathered ashes beneath
its blaze offers for all the moral which is
ever present everywhere even this; that
beauty must weep over decay, that strength
must be brought low, aud that, unless re-
newed, the autumn flame, in the first flush
ing of its glory, must sink down into dark
ness and go out foreyer.-C Christian at Work