Affliction Producing Virtue

 The editor of The United Presbyterian writes thus:

       On a recent evening during a severe hail-storm we opened our door to observe the progress of the storm, and were surprised to find the air laden with the odor of nasturtiums. There were porch-boxes containing nasturtiums, geraniums and other flowering and foliage plants. Beds of nasturtiums were by the street's side and at the side of the lawn, and into these the hail had fallen, beating down and breaking the vines until the porch floor and the ground beneath the boxes and the vines were covered with ends of broken sprays, leaves and bright bits of yellow and gold, scarlet and maroon of the mangled flowers. But the air was full of the sweetness of the crusht and wounded vines. They were returning good for evil in the misfortune that had come upon them. For every wound that the hail had made they were giving out the fragrance of a beautiful spirit. Tho bruised and broken, they were filling the whole atmosphere with an aroma which was in beautiful contrast to the adverse rain of hail that still rattled on the roofs and walks and fell among the prostrate vines. Blest is that life which can yield its sweetest fragrance when the storms are at their highest. We have all known men and women who, when lacerated with pain, prostrate under the hand of God, have made the very atmosphere of the sick-room redolent with the incense of Christian hope and trust.