The most important part of human life is not its end, but its beginning. Our death-day is the child of the past; but our opening years are the sires of the future. At the last hour men summon to their bedside a solemnity of thought which arrives too late for any practical result. The hush, and awe, and faraway look, so frequent in departing moments, should have come much sooner. Commend us to the example of the Hebrew King, who fasted, and wore sackcloth, while the child was yet alive. Wisely did he foresee the uselessness of lamenting when the scene should close. "Can I bring him back again?" was one of the most sensible of questions. It may be a serious business to take the cold iron from the anvil; it seems to us far sadder to be standing still, and seeing the hot bar grow chill. Brother, at my side, whoever you may be, LET US STRIKE!