In the next place, behold me as I am--weak, weary, old, shrunken in body, and graceless; look at my wrinkled face, think of my failing senses, listen to my shrilled voice.

Ah! what happiness to me in the promise that when the tomb opens, as soon it will, to receive the worn-out husk I call myself, the now viewless doors of the universe, which is but the palace of God, will swing wide ajar to receive me, a liberated immortal Soul! "I would I could tell the ecstasy there must be in that life to come! Do not say I know nothing about it.

This much I know, and it is enough for me--the being a Soul implies conditions of divine superiority.

In such a being there is no dust, nor any gross thing; it must be finer than air, more impalpable than light, purer than essence--it is life in absolute purity.
"What now, O son of Hur?
Knowing so much, shall I dispute with myself or you about the unnecessaries--about the form of my soul?
Or where it is to abide?
Or whether it eats and drinks?
Or is winged, or wears this or that?
No.

It is more becoming to trust in God.