hy?" broke in a voice in tones of remonstrance. The idlers
looked at each other, and then at the face of old Faithful, who was just
returning from his evening walk and had heard their words of complaint.

"Let me assure you, my neighbors," he said mildly, yet with force,
"it's all your own fault that your urns are not filled. You each know the
master's command, that they should be kept clean and ready for the fresh
supply. Have you all been faithful to the command?"

They thought among themselves, and answered with but partial truth,
saying, "We may not always have had our urns clean, but why should
they be unfilled for that?"

"Because the new water would be made unclean and useless by being
mixed with the old, as you each can see for yourselves. Our master loves
all alike; but he cannot supply us with fresh waters and new life if we
have not used the old and prepared for the new."

"I suppose, if we had them ever so clean now, that the carrier would
pass us by," remarked one of the group.

"Try, and see," said Faithful. "We may always rest assured that if our
part is done the master will do his; for no one, however kind and
merciful, can benefit us if we do not put ourselves in a state to be
blessed. If the master sends us fresh water each day, and our urns are
impure, is it the fault of the benefactor that they are so? We must
prepare to receive."

Faithful went on his way. The sun sank in its bed of fleecy clouds,
the evening dew fell on the earth, and all was still. The lesson must
have penetrated the hearts of the listeners; for on the morrow their
urns, white and clean, were full of sparkling water.

Do we look into our hearts each day and see that the life from thence
has gone forth for good and made ready for new, or are we idly murmuring
that we have no life-waters? Can the Father's life inflow if we do
not _give_? Our souls are sacred urns, which He longs to fill to
overflowing with pure and heavenly truths if we are willing to receive,
and faithful to extend, his mercies.

XIII.

SELF-EXERTION.

An aged man who had built for himself a house upon a high elevation
of land, and had labored many years, yea, the most of his lifetime,
in conveying trees, plants, and flowers with which to decorate his
grounds, came one day in his descent upon a youth who sat by the roadside
looking greatly dispirited.

"Hast thou no parents nor home?" inquired the kind man.

The youth shook his head, and look