nessed some cases of this that were truly edifying. See," said an old lady of eighty-six to her pastor, "how well I can read without spectacles!" "Yes," said he, "and you have all these other comforts. Here are your convenient accommodations, your dutiful children, and, above all, your Bible with all its precious promises." "I know it, I know it," said she, with rising animation; "I am only afraid that I am not thankful enough." Now that individual would have been cheerful in almost any condition. The happiness we recommend is not of indifference, however-not of a mere animal, but of a rational being, and therefore it is reflective. IX. We must not omit now those more direct exercises of prayer, and faith, and Christian meditation so necessary and so becoming the condition we are contemplating. The aged should have opportunities for these. They should have retirement and freedom. from noise; and it is one of the greatest cruelties practised upon them that these opportunities are sometimes denied. But what more pleasant, what more appropriate and profitable, when they are enjoyed, than to "Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore Of that vast ocean we must sail so soon;" to spend much of our time in reading, meditation and prayer; to withdraw our affections more and more from the world, like old Barzillai; to reflect much on God's dealings with us, like David in the 71st Psalm, and to seek the welfare of Zion, and all around us, as we find ourselves descending to the tomb! "The land of silence and of death awaits my next remove: Oh may these poor remains of breath teach the wide world thy love." X. But we come to the closing scene. We must all come there at last; and now the great question is the only question worthy of much solicitude-how shall we best be prepared to meet anticipated death? Not, we answer, by the cold despisings of philosophy-not by mere natural resolution resolution or vain speculation, as if death must either be nothing, or necessarily lead to eternal felicity. For, alas, we may live after death in a very different state! And no mere natural resources seem sufficient to face with calmness a responsibility like this. Nor yet is it a sufficient solace, in view of death, that we may say, We shall meet beyond death those with whom we held intercourse here on earth. No, we feel, we know that we want all this, and more. Now, the true Christian, and he alone, has this resource. To him the blessed gospel "has brought life and immortality to light." He believes this. He has long obeyed the gospel, and tasted some of its blessed consolations; and now, in his old age, he lies down to die with infinitely more and better enjoyments than the wisest of heathens ever knew. He has all that Cicero wrote so pleasingly of; and then he goes much further. He knows he must die; he sees death near; and yet he does not shudder. He has heard his divine Redeemer say, "I am the resurrection and the life," and he responds, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." He is conscious, never more so than now, of his great sins and great deficiencies of obedience; but he knows also that he has a great and mighty Saviour, and "that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." He expects a glorious resurrection also; and then as to the felicities that await him beyond the grave, he does not confine them to mere social intercourse, such as he possessed on earth, but expects these infinitely improved; and then the superadded and almost inconceivable fruition of a present God, an openly-beheld Saviour, and the society of all holy and elevated beings-angels and men-in one unwearying activity around the throne of God for ever. Illustrious day indeed, when all this is to be entered upon and enjoyed! As to leaving the world, he does not regret it, for he has enjoyed what of good it could ever afford, and finished his usefulness in it. Dear objects of his affection are there still, but he leaves his blessing with them, and hopes besides to meet them all again "at the great rising day." And thus he dies, easily, tranquilly, and with glorious hopes. "Sure the last end of the good man is peace. Lobing-Eindness. REV. SAMUEL MEDLEY. AWAKE, my soul, in joyful lays, He saw me ruined in the fall, Though num'rous hosts of mighty foes, When trouble, like a gloomy cloud, |