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Rh of age that we may ever be learning. A deeper sense of the value of time ought also to be among its acquisitions. For as the richness of every blessing is more fully revealed by the approach of its departure, our days become more precious when but few remain. Force is thus added to the injunction of good Bishop Taylor: "Lift up your heart at the striking of every clock, that the hour may be usefully spent, and help you heavenward." "Still at my lessons?" Yes. Still a beginner—a backward pupil at the feet of Jesus of Nazareth.

A beautiful life have I had. Not one more trial than was for my good. Countless blessings beyond expectation or desert. How infinite is the mercy that has so long sustained this frail house of the body, and nourished its undying tenant! Well may we say with the Psalmist, "Gracious is the Lord, and full of compassion." As I review all the way in which He hath led me, smiles of joy mingle with tears of gratitude. The Almighty Friend, who hath held my hand through all my wanderings here, I fear not to trust for the life hereafter. That it is to me unknown, gives vitality and beauty to the Christian's faith. Not claiming to know either of that life, or the time of entering it, I cling to Him, and am satisfied, and at rest.

Behind me stretch the green pastures and still waters, by which I have been led all my days. Around, is the lingering of hardy flowers, and fruits,