PLEASURE, shaking her delights in her hands, cries, "Come over with me!" MAMMON, clinking his bags of gold, cries, "Come over with me!" AMBITION, pointing to the hazy mountaintop, and her coveted palace gleaming in the sun, cries, "Come over with me!" The day will come when these things will yield no pleasure; when they shall be seen in their true light, as the empty baubles of an hour! Oh, what though you may have all that now caters to the pride of life . . .   affluence,   prosperity,   success in business, gaining the whole world? Are you imperiling, or impoverishing, your immortal soul? But Barzillai answered the king: "How many more years will I live, that I should go up to Jerusalem with the king?" 2 Samuel 19:34 What a solemn question for us all, amid the daily occurring proofs of our frailty and mortality. Oh, what a motto to continually consider, amid the wear and tear of life! Young man, with the flash of young hope in your eye; life extending in an interminable vista before you--ever pause on the enchanted highway, and put the solemn question to yourself: "How many more years will I live?" Man of business, in availing yourself of new openings in trade, accepting new responsibilities and concerns, involving yourself in new entanglements--have you stopped and probed yourself with the question: "How many more years will I live?" Lover of pleasure, plunging into the midst of foolish excitement; the whirl of intoxicating gaiety--have you ever, in returning, jaded, and weary, and worn from the heated ballroom--flung yourself on your pillow, and sunk into a feverish dream, with the question haunting you: "How many more years will I live?" Fruitless