It is said of athletes, boxers, and wrestlers, that they have a "second breath." After they have about spent what may be called their first strength, a rallying of the system takes place, when they are said to have come to their "second breath," and can hold out a great while.

Does not this apply to our feelings in respect to growing old? We may have a timid, or a sad feeling to overcome which arises from the consciousness that we are rapidly taking on years, but we soon reach the period when we feel that age is not all embarrassment and decay, but is, as George Macdonald puts it, "the ripening, the swelling of the fresh life within that withers and bursts the husks."

This power of renewing strength, of acquiring the "second breath," is forcibly exemplified in the career of the Rev. Edward Robie, D.D., of Greenland, New Hampshire. The twenty-fifth of February, 1904, marked the fifty-second anniversary of his continuous pastorate of the Congregational Church at that place. Illness had kept him out of the pulpit only a few Sundays during that long period. When the anniversary was celebrated, the doctor had seen the flowers of eighty-three summers. But he was not shelved. He was not too old for practical service. Time had been kind to him, but this was because he always had respect for Time. Therefore, at eighty-three he was young and vigorous in thought and active in the work of the ministry. On the day of the celebration the fact received special emphasis that there was no minister in that section of New Hampshire more abreast of the times than Dr. Robie.

An event of unusual interest recently occurred in the life of Dr. Robie. At the age of eighty-three years he was a student at the divinity school of Harvard University. This was during his summer vacation in 1904. In explaining this peculiar incident, he said that his parishioners, to whom he had preached for over half a century, were particular as to the quality of the sermons they had to listen to, and he was simply performing his duty in spending his vacation at the University in doing some extra work in modem theology. Emerson says our best thoughts come from others, and the Patriarch Robie was at Harvard that he might receive new thoughts - new inspiration - and thereby be better able to carry messages of greater power to his congregation.

The work of Dr. Robie at the University emphasized the fact that a man is no older than he feels. And perhaps the surest way to make the baneful dead line of fifty dictum unpopular, so far as the ministry is concerned, is to fill pulpits with the material out of which such men as Dr. Robie are made.

Dr. Robie was born in Gorham, Maine, in April, 1821. He is a fine linguist, a preacher of excellent ability, and in Church history and law he is high authority. Greenland is his first pastorate, and will be his only one. His good people, young and old, who have been so often comforted and strengthened by his faithful ministry, have expressed the unanimous wish that his pastorate at Greenland shall close only with his death.

In October 1904, Dr. Robie wrote me about his habits of life as follows: "I have never been what would be called a strong, robust man, but I have seldom had any special ailment or disease. My pastoral care of a country church for fifty-three years has given me work enough for healthful exercise of body and mind, without occasion for worriment or over-work. Moderation in eating and drinking and thorough mastication of food, have been favorable to continued bodily health. And in all and above all, the Lord has kept me alive, given me the assurance of His love, and constant cheerfulness and joy in Him."

As a sunny landscape inspires flowers, so Dr. Robie's benignity and cheerfulness inspire love and reverence. There has been no time in his pastorate extending over half a century, when his affection for his people was stronger, or his influence in the pulpit more uplifting, than in the golden autumn of his life.