This religion, at all times of life, I think is the chief treasure of human achievement. But if it be wise in such matters to speak of what a. man has not only experienced, and so known by heart, then I should say I think true religion is not quite whole and mature in childhood, youth, or manhood; that it takes old age to make it complete in all its parts, and perfect in each detail. Childhood has its bud, growing from the germ which none notice in babyhood; youth has its flower, — how fair and sweet a thing it is ; in manhood comes the full foliage, and the expanding fruit falling, apple by apple, as it gets ripe ; but in old age, only, appears I think the full harvest, when the very leaves turn into beauty ere they die, and the full ripe apples hang handsome on the tree, or, falling, clothe the ground with their sweet loveliness, each one a fruit historic, pointing back, also a seed prophetic of another spring whose sun rises not on us here; we have its dawning, not its day.
Yesterday we took each other by the hand, and welcome smiled in mutual eyes as we gave each other good wishes. Children rose early, their limbs half-clad, and ran with pattering feet to their father's and mother's door, or to a more venerable generation, and lisped out their "Happy New Year!" To grave and thoughtful men what does it mean? The cause of greatest and perennial happiness is the true religious ideas, right religious feelings, manly religious deeds. What better thing would you? what greater could you? Let us wish this, each to himself, all to our brother men.
The old year ended a day and a half ago. The Infinite Providence bends over the cradle, or the play-ground, or the school-room, or the workshop of her children, and wishes us all a happy new year. But the wise Mother leaves us somewhat to ourselves, to work our weal or woe, and though she holds the tether, and never lets us stray beyond recall, she holds it something loose, and lets us run and choose our way. Which will you,—the meaner or the nobler life? You may have the worst thing, or the best thing, and call either your "religion!" Over your head and my head there hovers the ideal self that we
