us to see how some old men will resent the compliments of
their juniors on their state of health or appearance. 'Stuff and
nonsense!' cried old Sam Rogers, grimly; 'I tell you there is no
such thing as a fine old man.' In a humbler walk of life I remember
to have heard a similar but more touching reply. It was upon the
great centenarian question raised by Mr. Thorns. An old woman in a
workhouse, said to be a hundred years of age, was sent for by the
Board of Guardians, to decide the point by her personal testimony.
One can imagine the half-dozen portly prosperous figures, and the
contrast their appearance offered to that of the bent and withered
crone. 'Now, Betty,' said the chairman with unctuous patronage,
'you look hale and hearty enough, yet they tell me that you are a
hundred years old; is this really true?' 'God Almighty knows, sir,'
was her reply, 'but I feel a thousand.'

And there are so many people nowadays who 'feel a thousand.'

It is for this reason that the gift of old age is unwished for, and
the prospect of future life without encouragement. It is the modern
conviction that there will be some kind of work in it; and even
though what we shall be set to do may be 'wrought with tumult of
acclaim,' we have had enough of work. What follows, almost as a
matter of course, is that the thought of possible extinction has
lost its terrors. Heaven and its glories may have still their
charms for those who are not wearied out with toil in this life;
but the slave draws for himself a far other picture of home. His is
no passionate cry to be admitted into the eternal city; he murmurs
sullenly, 'Let me rest.'

It was a favourite taunt with the sceptics of old--those Early
Fathers of infidelity, who used to occupy themselves so laboriously
with scraping at the rind of the Christian Faith--that until the
Cross arose men were not afraid of Death. But that arrow has lost
its barb. The Fear of Death, even among professing Christians, is
now comparatively rare; I do not mean merely among dying men--in
whom those who have had acquaintance with deathbeds tell us they
see it scarcely ever--but with the quick and hale. Even with very
ignorant persons, the idea that things may be a great deal worse
for us hereafter than even at present is not generally entertained
as respects themselves. A clergyman who was attending a sick man in
his parish expressed a ho