dy for his departure to
another and a better. His mind was now steadfastly turned towards the
future, and he was continually looking for his promised rest. The
nearer he got, to the end of his life, the clearer his prospects of
heaven became; he enjoyed a most unclouded hope of glory. Often he
would say, when talking with his friends, "You'll be hearing some
mornin' before lang that Abe is gone, and yo' needn't ask where. Tak'
my word for it, I'll be in glory. If you should hear I'm dead, you may
set it daan that I'm in heaven."

A brother local preacher had lain ill for some time, expecting every
day to be his last. Abe thought he would like to see him once more
before he passed away, and accordingly he went, and the two old
veterans spent a happy time together, conversing about the joys which
were before them. "We're both aat of harness naa, thaa sees," said
Abe, "and we'll sooin be at haam. I want the' to tell them I'm coming,
and shall n't be long after the'."

Everyone thought that Abe would live the longer of the two, but he
gained his prize first, passing away a little before his brother, and
now they both "rest from their labours, and their works do follow them."

Abe's remaining strength rapidly failed him at the last, so that he was
unable to leave his room; yet he was always happy in prospect of the
immortal life before him. "No aching bones or tottering limbs there,"
he would say; "Glory to God! I shall sooin be young agean." The Bible
and hymn-book were his constant companions now, and in peaceful
expectation he waited for the signal that would open to him the portals
of the skies.

The annual lovefeast was held during the time when he was a prisoner in
his room, and it was a privation to him not to be able to get there
once more, but it was not to be. They would hear his voice no more in
Salem, but before long he would have to relate his enrapturing story
among listening angels and saints before the throne. Several of the
friends came down from the chapel to see him. He said, "Aye, lads, I
could loike to ha' been amang yo' once maar, but th' next toime I cross
Salem doorstep I shall be carried over; but ne'er moind, I have seen a
door opened in heaven, and I shall sooin go through--hallelujah!"

At last he took to his bed never to rise again; the time of his
departure was at hand. As, however, his body lost strength, his spirit
seemed to gain it; the words of the psalmist were ever on h