Who could wonder if Old Abe felt something like this for that tree? we should wonder if he did not. There, Old Abe, dear trembling old man, rest thy white, honoured head against the breast of that elm, and weep if thou wilt, and never mind whether man understand thee or not, God does. Weep, old man, but not in fear; thou hast nothing to fear, God is with thee, and "the place whereon thou standest is holy ground." It is the natural vent for those feelings which come crowding in upon thee, some from the long past, and some from the approaching future, now rapidly drawing on, with all its revelations of wonder and delight. And thus old Abe stood with his head resting against the tree, his eyes closed, his tears running, and his lips silently moving in prayer to God; so he paid his vows once more, and gathered strength for the few remaining days of his pilgrimage; then he retraced his steps towards home, and by the time he arrived there he was entirely himself again, and no one would guess the emotion he had felt at Bethel. "Well, Sally," he exclaimed, as he re-entered his cottage, "I've been to th' owd spot! They have hewn all abaat it, but th' owd tree stands yet God 'll keep that tree while I live, and then they may do what they like wi' it." So Abe went on, quietly severing himself from one tie after another which bound him to this world, and getting ready for his departure to another and a better. His mind was now steadfastly turned towards the future, and he was continually looking for his promised rest. The nearer he got, to the end of his life, the clearer his prospects of heaven became; he enjoyed a most unclouded hope of glory. Often he would say, when talking with his friends, "You'll be hearing some mornin' before lang that Abe is gone, and yo' needn't ask where. Tak' my word for it, I'll be in glory. If you should hear I'm dead, you may set it daan that I'm in heaven." A brother local preacher had lain ill for some time, expecting every day to be his last. Abe thought he would like to see him once more before he passed away, and accordingly he went, and the two old veterans spent a happy time together, conversing about the joys which were before them. "We're both aat of harness naa, thaa sees," said Abe, "and we'll sooin be at haam. I want the' to tell them I'm coming, and shall n't be long after the'." Everyone thought that Abe would live the longer of the two, but he gained his prize first, passing away a little before his brother, and now they both "rest from their labours, and their works do follow them."