PRELIMINARY CHAPTER.

"How Old art THOU?" was a question addressed by a great king to an ancient patriarch; and it drew forth that memorable judgment upon a long life, which is known to every one who is acquainted with his Bible.

Although this question would be esteemed a very uncourtly one, in modern times, for one person to ask another, it is nevertheless one of the most momentous, for every individual to address frequently and seriously to himself; because, unless we frequently ask ourselves this question, so as to live under a continual sense of the fact which must supply the answer, it will be hardly possible for us always to maintain that correspondence between our minds and our years, which the

laws of our moral being require, and suppose; which depends altogether, upon the degree of attention we habitually pay, to our progress in time.

If we fairly consult our experience of human nature, either in ourselves or others, we shall presently perceive, that although the progress of life is rendered, by God's ordinance, most regular and uniform, yet the concern which the mind takes in that progress, is most irregular and contradictory. For, the propensity to inquire" How old am I?" which we all discover, with so much alacrity, in the outset of life, commonly slackens as life advances; and when it is declining towards its end, we would willingly abstain from the inquiry altogether: just as if the circumstance which gave life its importance, stood somewhere in the middle of its course; which being passed, our interest in the progress of life passed also. Whereas, it is most certain, that the circumstance which alone gives real importance to life, stands always at the end of its career; so that, until we shall

have reached that circumstance, the question "How old am I?" ought to engage our concern more and more every year, and not cease to engage it, until years and bodily existence have passed away together.

In the first ascent of life, we are apt to ask ourselves, "How old am I?" with so much overweening eagerness, that we seldom take time for making a sound reflection upon the answer. In the descent of life, we do not care to ask ourselves the question at all, and consequently, we have no answer to reflect upon. In the ascent, we press forward upon time, and prematurely assume the consequence and fruits of years. In the descent, we hang backward from the current of the stream, and persuade ourselves that we still retain the privileges, if not the ornaments, of youth. In both cases, the gradual and orderly process of nature is violently opposed by the irregularity of our minds; our thoughts become dissociated from our years; and hence arise, so frequently, those two un

seemly characters in human life, presumptuous youth, and trifling old age.

But the difference is great between the two; for, presumptuous youth may, by the indulgence of time and the intervention of reflection, correct its failing, and terminate in a venerable old age; whereas trifling and worldly old age has very little prospect of a change from the counsels of reflection, and still less from the indulgence of time.

Nothing can be more prejudicial to our mental interest, or more derogatory to our moral dignity, than the discordance which is thus produced between our minds and our years. This it was, that called forth that severe, yet not ill-founded, sarcasm of the poet :

All mankind mistake their time of day.

Though grey our heads, our thoughts and aims are green.

Like damaged clocks, whose hand and bell dissent, Folly sings six, while Nature points to twelve."

This, surely, is one strong motive, for endeavouring always to preserve a just pro

portion, and balance, between the tenour of our thoughts, and the number of our years.

But another, and a far more weighty, argument for that practice, arises from a due consideration of the average quantity of human life.

The average measure of human life, is set at SEVENTY YEARS. In evidence of this important fact, we have the testimony of Moses, in the ancient church of God; of Solon, and Hippocrates, in the ancient heathen world; and it is confirmed to us, by the universal experience and suffrage of all the succeeding generations of mankind.

Now, it is natural for us to inquire. two things: first, Who fixed that average? secondly, Why that average was fixed?

To the first question, the answer is obvious and immediate: it was fixed by HIM, who gave the life.

Again, if we ask, Why He fixed that average; Why, out of all the possible proportions of time, exceeding that measure, He should have determined the average allowance of human life exactly to seventy