that it has excited the imagination of the poets of all ages, or that its season should be the ideal of earthly happiness? Or is it strange that the fabled elixir, which was accounted able to retain so precious and so proverbially fleeting a treasure, should be deemed in itself divine, and so eagerly longed for? It is true the enjoyments of mere physical existence must necessarily lessen as life advances; but is this the one main pleasure of living? Is it not rather the cultivation and enjoyment of the intellectual, the moral, and the spiritual life in us that creates happiness, and which, if rightly directed, should yield us more and more as we advance in years. More it assuredly will yield us if exercised toward that which is true, and noble, and divine; and we then see that beautiful spectacle of "a green old age," so well described by Tupper"His heart is quick to feel, a bursting fruit of generosity, Lofty aspirations, deep affections, holy hopes are his delight; The shrewd world laughed at him for honesty, The vain world mouthed at him for honour, The false world hated him for truth; The cold world despised him for affection; Still he kept his treasure, the warm and noble heart, And in that happy, wise old man survives the child and the lover." I freely grant that the physical development and vigorous life-blood of youth impart to the frame, and therefore to the mind, that elasticity which is not only enjoyment in itself, but which throws around all our feelings and thoughts that vividness which is incident to this time of life, and which can never be entirely experienced again; but, nevertheless, that which constitutes its real happiness is not so much present possession as sanguine ideas and hope of the future. If it rejoices in the belief of a pure and chivalrous trust, and an affection which is true and unchanging, it is not that it has yet experienced it. If it rests in the conviction that truth shall certainly prevail, it is that it looks with a clearer trust than many who have grown older, and who have often, seeing error apparently triumphant, been almost ready to despair of effecting any good; and it sees with a faith more fresh from the fountain head, that as God and truth are one, so surely must truth overcome every obstacle till it has put all enemies under its feet. Yet these are not the enjoyments of present possession, for they exist only in the region of a hopeful anticipation. It is not for old age, or mature life, to attempt to live in that which formed the happiness of its youth, without any reference to what that might have been, this might, and often would, form a complete failure; for if the enjoyments of youth have not been such as are compatible with advancing years, it would be but a mockery to attempt to resuscitate them; the actions could alone be repeated without the life and spring which gave them their enjoyment. He who would carry down into life the happiness of his early manhood must begin while young to place his enjoyment in such things as are capable of indefinite expansion. To illustrate my meaning: the pleasure of horse exercise is very different as experienced by a young man and a man advanced in life. The chief enjoyment which the former feels is the buoyant and exhilarating influence which it occasions, but this sensation naturally decreases as life advances; but if, in addition, he has the love of nature deeply rooted in him, and all the ideal pleasures connected with it, these will increase as years roll on, and the old man will have more than gained in them what he has lost in the other. The general cultivation of the refined tastes, in a word, the enjoyment of the beautiful under whatever aspect it may present itself, provides a permanent fountain of enjoyment. It is also peculiarly the power of the imagination to be able to invest the present with the happiness either of the past or future; and, as such, there is perhaps no gift which is capable of exercising so great an influence upon us. The hopeful and imaginative mind is always young. This extraordinary power, combined with memory, enables us almost to disregard the present, and to live again over scenes which are past, with a vividness second only to their actual recurrence. As one scene after another is recalled with a minuteness which brings every feature distinctly before us, we experience again the same emotions which we then felt, the same feelings of joy and sorrow, hope and fear, losing none of their freshness by the lapse of time, and convincing us that the spirit never grows old, but is eternally young. Still more is the present ignored when the future is the one object of the imagination. It is then that the immortality of mind seems to strike us with full force; and hope, the emblem of youth, shines with a fresh lustre. Our aspirations, if thus directed, become stronger and deeper as the years roll on. In youth, with all its freshness, and buoyancy, and vigour, they extended mainly towards surrounding objects, in which we then delighted to dwell; but as life advances, these hopes assume a more subjective aspect, “When all the jarring notes of life Seem blending in a psalm, And all the angles of its strife Slow rounding into calm." Having less and less reference to the narrow sphere of this world's joys, they reach onwards increasingly unto eternal realities. Now, with its added gifts of faith and love does the spirit develop itself in its true nature; its aspirations are redoubled, and stretch forth infinitely. The true elixir of life is made manifest; "He satisfieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's ;" and at length, through the merits of Him who was for ever crowned "with the dew of his youth," the spirit, freed from the shackles which, amid all its aspirations, bound it down to earth, enters for ever upon its own eternal youth! For there shall be time no longer in the presence of Him who maketh all things new, and with whom a thousand years are as one day, and one day as a thousand years. * * * T. W. LINES WRITTEN AFTER READING THE SECOND NUMBER OF "THE FRIENDS' EXAMINER." "INCREASE Our Faith!" How many a heart Is breathing forth the prayer, Whilst Doubt with hidden chain stands by We listen as the Traitor says, "Christ suffered not for thee, Lost and undone, of what avail 'Tis thus we give the tempter room, And bears us to the only source, Whence light and comfort springs. We thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast sent This Angel from above, To win the stricken hearts of men To trust thy boundless love, Though earthly cares and vexing things The spirit Thou hast given thrc' Christ, Knows neither sect, nor time, nor space, And led from pride and earthly bonds, "Increase our Faith," and oh let Hope In hearts that yearn to know themselves So kindred souls in every church Books Received. LUCY G. Poems, by JOHN LE GAY BRERETON, M.D. Sampson Low & Co., London. A neat little volume of Poems, by the author of "Prince Legion and other poems. We are glad to welcome the writer in our columns for the present number, in a piece entitled "Lost and Found. The Oxford Reformers of 1498: being a History of the Fellow work of John Colet, Erasmus, and Thomas More. By FRED. SEEBOHM. 440 pp. Longman & Co., London, 1867. We congratulate the author that, not content with the piecemeal publication of these very interesting details concerning three notable men, he has, with the consent of the Editor of the Fortnightly Review, in which we saw some portion of the work, at once presented the result of his laborious searching in one good volume. The art of writing an historical biography worthy of the student, and yet interesting to the ordinary reader, is a rare faculty; but we feel that the writer has in this instance very successfully accomplished the task. To the multitude of persons who, like ourselves, love to profit by another's toil, and to have presented, in a condensed and lively form, that which they have neither time nor opportunity to cull for themselves, we can cordially recommend the work; and we rise from its perusal with a vivid sense of how much the world owes to those who, whether in science, art, or literature, present us, in a small compass, with the gist or pith of that mass of reading and of facts in the investigation of which they have voluntarily and enthusiastically enlisted. We purpose, in our next number, entering fully into the subject |