The old, then, should always be occupied with some useful work. It will prevent them from becoming self-centred, introspective, unhappy. If in good health physically, there is no reason why they should not go on as before, though at a lessened speed, and with no worry. If worry cannot be eradicated then it is far better to engage in a pursuit where there will be no occasion for it. For the man who gives up his usual occupation, there are countless pursuits, or hobbies, to indulge in. The birds, the trees, the flowers, insects, museums, libraries, and many other things offer material for a lifetime of study. Such study, combined with gentle exercise, as in golf or walking, is almost certain to promote healthy optimism.

As one grows old, even though one is content, it is but natural to indulge in day-dreams. These may go backwards or forwards. As is well known, the aged often live in the past, too much so at times for their own good. Progress looks forward. Set we can hardly censure the old person if in memory the pleasant days of long ago are relived; this affords satisfaction, and the memory of a well spent life cannot fail to bring joy. However, the past should not become so much the master that it will not tolerate the present. Many old persons live so much in the past that modern ideas seem anarchistic. The world does not stand still; its march is forward, and if we are to be in harmony with it we, too, must go forward. Each year, almost, brings its changes in our manner of living, the methods of business, etc., and if we cannot bring ourselves to forsake the old we should, at least, be tolerant of the new.

It is in old age that one naturally tends to think of death. It is a subject which youth does not care to think about, and, for that matter, neither do the aged think of it as much as is supposed. Like old age, death has been much maligned. It is regarded as a thing of pain, physical and mental, where, as a matter of fact, experience proves the belief erroneous.

Out of every hundred people who die sixty die unconscious, and so no pain can be present in the sixty. The experience of many people who were believed to be dying but who recovered shows that while in the unconscious state they did not suffer. Those who maintain consciousness up to the last have no pain peculiar to death. There is no death agony, no struggle. Such discomfort as may be experienced has been borne before without murmur. Usually it is the one who looks on who suffers most. Naturally there are some diseases that tend to cause pain, but in these times no physician would permit his patients' sufferings to go unrequited. As far as the aged are concerned, death is as going to sleep. Nature seems to dull their sensibilities to pain; they are practically anesthetic. Having at one time been connected with an institution wherein were housed hundreds of old people I can verify this point. Often the only remark made by the old when dying was: "I'm tired," and, as if going to sleep, they passed to the great beyond. As yet I have not encountered an aged dying person who complained of pain.

Mental suffering on the part of the dying is rare. It is absent practically from the aged. Naturally, one loves life, but having tasted of the joys, sorrows, and other things that the world had to offer, the old become resigned and content to go. Even when death strikes the middle aged, it is not usually accompanied by mental pain. Naturally, if one leaves behind him a dependent family he feels regretful, but that is all. Having witnessed several hundred deaths, I have met with fear of death but once, and this fear was due to a mental eonflict over a religious question which was happily solved shortly before death. As a rule, those who die believing in a future life die peacefully. This does not mean to say that unbelievers die hard; they have no peculiar suffering, but since they feel that death ends all, they have nothing to look forward to, and hence tend to be less resigned. Starbuck found that the fear of death was responsible for religious conversion in 15 per cent, of all cases he had studied.

To still further enforce the contention that death is less feared than we suppose, we might refer to the last recorded words of dying persons. Naturally, what one says at the time of death will depend upon one's temperament, the surroundings, the beliefs. A person who dies at home with benefit of clergy is likely to be prayerful ; while one who dies for his country naturally tends to think of the battle. However, we will find dying statements which show, apart from religious conviction and patriotism, peevishness, humour, contentment, almost everything but fear. Thus Washington Irving said: "I must arrange my pillows for another weary night; if this could only be the end"; Tasso: "Into thy hands, 0 Lord"; Napoleon: "Tete D'Armee"; General Wolfe: " Support me. Let not my brave soldiers see me drop; the day is ours; oh, keep it!" Goethe: "Let the light enter"; Sir Walter Scott: "I feel as if I were to be myself again"; Burns: "Don't let that awkward squad fire over my grave"; Rabelais: "The farce is played out"; Schiller: "Death can be no evil because it is universal. Many things are growing plain and clear to me"; Washington: "It is well"; Daniel Webster: "I still live"; John Quincy Adams: "This is the last of earth, I am content"; Taylor: "I have endeavoured to do my duty"; Chancellor Thurlow: "I'm shot if I don't believe I'm dying"; Byron: "I must sleep now"; 0. Henry: "Turn up the light; I don't want to go home in the dark." Practically the last words of Crabbe, the poet, were to his sons: "God bless you. Be good and come to me." Addison, when all hope of prolonging life was at an end, sent for a young acquaintance and said: "See in what peace a Christian can die."

As to what lies beyond the grave no man knows; at least not to the satisfaction of the materialist. Yet if one believes that death ends all, he has nothing to fear; and even if he does believe in a future life the same holds good. Many people, however, brood about the after life, not so much as to whether or not such a state exists, but as to what their portion will be once they have been called to the bourne from which no traveller returns. Possibly of a scrupulous nature, they are worried lest, for some transgression, they will be denied future happiness, probably condemned to Hell.

On the subject of life after death I do not feel qualified to speak authoritatively. According to the sound logic of every man to his trade or profession, this is a matter which belongs to one's clergyman. However, as a student of human nature it seems to me that many of us entertain many erroneous, unhappy notions concerning the after life. We believe that God is good, just, forgiving, all-knowing, and at the same time we live in fear of Him. We believe in two Gods, - a God of Love and a God of Fear. The former is, I think, the true God.

One who is a physician, especially if he has had ample experience and is something of a psychologist, knows human nature far better than many clergymen, lawyers, jurists. Personally, from years of experience in various correctional institutions and institutions for the mentally sick, I, for one, am not so prone to condemn my fellow man. I have learned that physical disease, mental disease, mental conflicts and repressions, and many other things often lead to the commission of large and small breaches of moral laws. Often, too, for such commissions the individual is not culpable, or culpable only to a slight extent. Of course, crime or sin is not to be condoned, excused entirely, but if we understood the effects of mental and physical disturbances, even in apparently healthy persons, on morals we would forgive more often than we censure. As a rule, it is the slight offender who, in a moment of weakness maybe, broke down, who suffers from self-debasement, who believes the sin unpardonable, who is certain of unforgiveness.

If we believe in God then we should also believe that He is a psychologist with powers far greater than those of any human who attempts to understand human actions. And so He can fully understand the workings of the human heart, the passions that at times conquer. Unlike the human judge, He does not pore over musty legal volumes, doling out sentence according to the written law; He does not emphasize the law but studies the individual. He knows that there is not a crime on the calendar that is not possible for all human beings under the proper circumstances. Consequently, since He considers the individual, the temptations that assailed him, the powers of resistance possessed by him, and countless other facts that must be taken into consideration, we may be sure that our judgment will be free from error; furthermore, more lenient than our fears portray. To understand all is to forgive all.

Even though one deserves punishment and be condemned to such, who can say what this punishment will be! The Bible, of course, speaks of Hell, and alludes to it as a place of fire. However, we have no exact knowledge of the nature of this fire. It is possible that the term fire is used in a figurative sense, that it may refer to the fire of remorse which is equal in many respects to physical suffering. Theologians tell us that it is not absolutely necessary to conceive of Hell as a place of actual flame. It is far happier to consider any possible punishment after death as somewhat similar to that meted out on earth. For example, if a person is a good citizen he is permitted to enjoy the privileges of citizenship. If he breaks the laws he is fined, if the offence is slight, or put away for a shorter or longer time, where he is denied many of the privileges enjoyed by the righteous. He suffers no pain other than that of regret, denial, isolation. Unlike earthly punishment, we may feel assured that, should atonement be necessary hereafter, we will be justly treated. But whatever we believe, since there is no adequate proof that Hell consists of flame, there is no necessity or logic in one's brooding on the subject.

If, then, one in his youth thinks of old age let him not consider it as an unhappy period. However, let him also be mindful that much depends upon how youth looks after the body that is his. Let the person who reaches old age see to his diet, his physical ills; let him keep busy. If he day-dreams and his reveries deal with the past let his dreams be of a happy nature. If thought is given the future life, then let there be no fear of death or of what may follow. Death is, after all, the great adventure; the gateway to life, as was our birth. In doing these things the old will surely find, or retain, happiness, and will be able to say with Browning:

Grow old along with me; The best is yet to be; The last of life for which the first was made.