LESSON CXII.

FRUIT' AGE, collection of fruits.

WAX' ES, grows; increases.

JU' BI LANT, joyous.

TINGE, imbue.

GLO' RI FI ED, exalted to glory.

UN WA' RY, incautious.

FAM' ISH ED, afflicted with hunger.

BAN' ISH ED, driven out; expelled.

RE NEW' ED, made new again.

MA TUR' ING, ripening.

VINT' AGE, produce of the vine.

DIS LOY' AL TY, unfaithfulness.

BE QUEATH' ED, left by inheritance.

CON SID' ER ATE, thoughtful.

RE VIV' I FY, (RE, again; VIV, live; IFY, to make;) to make alive again, to bring to life; renew.

WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF.

GAIL HAMILTON.

1. "We all do fade as a leaf." Change is the essence of life. "Passing away," is written on all things; and passing away is passing on from strength to strength, from glory to glory. Spring has its growth, summer its fruitage, and autumn its festive in-gathering. The spring of eager preparation waxes into the summer of noble work; mellowing in its turn into the serene autumn, the golden-brown haze of October, when the soul may robe itself in jubilant drapery, awaiting the welcome command, "Come up higher," where mortality shall be swallowed up in life.

2. Why, then, should autumn tinge our thoughts with sadness. We fade as the leaf, and the leaf fades only to revivify. Though it fall, it shall rise again. Does the bud fear to become a blossom, or the blossom shudder as it swells into fruit; and shall the redeemed weep that they must become glorified'? Strange inconsistency`! We faint with the burden and the heat of the day. We bow down under the crosses that are laid upon our shoulders. We are bruised and torn by the snares and pitfalls which beset our way, and into which our unwary feet often fall.

3. We are famished, and foot-sore, and travel-stained, from our long journey, and yet we are saddened by tokens that we shall pass away from all these,—away from sin and sorrow, from temptation and fall, from disappointment, and weary waiting, and a fearful looking-for of evil, to purity and holiness, and the full fruition of every hope,—bliss which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived,—to a world whence all that made this dreary is forever banished, and where all that made this delightful is forever renewed and increased,—a world where the activities and energies of the soul shall have full scope, and love and recognition wait upon its steps forever.

4. Let him alone fear, who does not fade as the leaf,—him whose sources are not in God, and who does not draw his life thence,—him whose spring is gathering no strength, whose summer is maturing no fruit, and whose autumn shall have no vintage. Is not this the real sorrow of us all? not a dread of change, but a secret consciousness of wasted power,—of disloyalty to God, as the supreme object of our love and service.

5. Yet even here the fading leaf brings hope. Our future is always before us. The past is fixed. No tears can wash away its facts. Let us waste no vain regrets upon it; but, from the wisdom which its very mistakes and sins have bequeathed us, start afresh on the race. Though yesterday we were weak, and selfish, and indolent, let us to-day—at this moment—begin to be strong, and brave, and helpful, and just, and generous, and considerate, and tender, and truthful, and pure, and patient, and forgiving. "Now" is a glorious word. "HENCEFORTH" is always within our grasp.

QUESTIONS.—1. To what are we compared? 2. What is said of change? 3. What change takes place in the leaf? 4. What, in man? 5. Who have reason to fear? 6. What is said of the past and the future?