OUR BIRTH-DAYS.

The anniversary of our birth-days is always an interesting period, and should be noticed accordingly. Each of such days is a mile-stone on the road of life, reminding us of the rapid rate at which we have been advancing on its journey, and approaching its close. It is true that in life's morning, these mile-stones appear to be farther apart than they do in later years; still, they are days of hope and promise. Thousands are then rejoicing that they are one year nearer to the boasting age of twenty-one, when a young man feels himself lord of his own actions, and glories in his liberty. To thousands of the fairer part of creation, these annual monitors are welcome, as harbingers of the day when they shall shine in the ball-room or circles of fashion; attract all eyes, and command all attention; or perhaps fasten some silken chain around the heart of an individual admirer, and lead him in delightful captivity. To other thousands of the same sex, the anniversary will tell a tale of sadness; of departed hours and departed charms; of withered roses and withered hopes; when the looking-glass has lost its magic power, and speaks nothing save in the plain language of unwelcome truth and soberness. Thousands are reminded that many of the intervals, between one mile-stone and another were distinguished by lovely landscapes and countless beauties; by health and enjoyment—by joy and gladness of heart. To thousands of others, such intervals have been gloomy and cheerless; without the consolations of friendship, the comforts of society, or the flattering promises of hope. Surrounding prospects have only increased the gloom of the mind, and made the heart sick.

Yet in all these recollections, we may find instruction and nourishment for our better feelings. If our course has been checkered with good and evil, we may profit by tracing consequences to their proper causes; and thus learn how many miscalled misfortunes are the offspring of folly, or imprudence, or wrong; the natural results of our own wanderings from the path of innocence and duty; or else have been so fortunate as to have discovered by experience, that our happiness and duty are intimately connected, and that wisdom's ways are always ways of pleasantness and peace. In both cases, this annual review of the days and years that have taken their farewell of us, will be salutary in its effect, and teach us the value of virtuous resolutions of amendment, when we have gone astray, and the peaceful feelings and sweet anticipations of those whose desire it is to preserve their moral health in the bowers of innocence and purity, and amid the green pastures and still waters of life.

This very day, I have arrived at the seventy-third mile-stone on the journey to another country, where we all hope to enjoy happiness unending. And here I must avail myself of the old man's privilege; that of speaking of himself, and the incidents of exciting or soothing interest which have marked his onward course. I have abundant occasion to indulge in the pleasing retrospect. Through the smiles of heaven, I may truly say, that in the long vista I can scarcely discover an unpleasant object, to mar the beauty of the scene. It still appears margined with foliage and flowers, almost as green and bright as ever. The surface of the way still seems smooth, and the sky is clear and summer-like, as in the days of my youth and early manhood. Surely, these are distinguished blessings to me, and as such I fondly cherish them. Heaven has given me a firm constitution, and long-continued health. These are precious foundations to build upon; and I have improved them for that purpose. But much has been effected by the formation of certain habits, and by an attention to certain rules; and I feel their tendency and effects as valuable medicines. It is not vanity in an old man to recommend them to others. I am influenced by better motives. In the first place, when a child,

and I hope I have never forgotten them, or in any situation disregarded their benign influence, but reverenced them as important safe-guards. The rules I have adopted have never, to any extent, deceived me.

1. I have always found, that if I had injured any one, especially if intentionally, I could enjoy no peace of mind, until I had asked and obtained his forgiveness. When forgiven, all was calm and sunshine in my bosom. I never solicited in vain.

2. Knowing by experience the value of this blessed sunshine, I have always endeavored so to be on my guard, as not to offend by indulged passion, suspicion, or want of respect and courtesy. This has always insured courtesy and kindness in return, from all others.

3. If on a sudden I have for a few moments been guilty of indulging in passion, the sun never went down on my wrath. I never did and never could retain resentment against any one, and cherish a desire of revenge; for such a desire would have been painful and distressing. A word from him who had excited my momentary anger, spoken to me in kindness, never failed to disarm every disturbed feeling. I have always found a peaceful disposition a source of comfort, and to produce the same calm within, as is caused by gentle breezes on a summer day, refreshing an invalid who is walking abroad to inhale them.

4. By the aid of the foregoing rules, I have thus far through life been habitually cheerful; and cheerfulness is easily diffused, and cheerful feelings multiplied. It is a sort of letter of introduction, and insures a welcome, when duly exhibited. It adds to the charms of society, while at the same time it gives a youthful movement to the pulsations of the heart.

5. In order to preserve this youthful feeling of our nature, while advancing in years, I have steadily maintained the custom of associating freely with the young as well as the old; of joining in the social or fashionable circle, and breathing the atmosphere of the library or the drawing-room, with ladies and gentlemen, more especially with those whom I am in the habit of meeting, on other occasions, upon terms of easy intercourse. By this practice, my social feelings have remained almost unchanged. Though I am an old tree, my leaves remain nearly as green as ever. The scenes I have just described, I enjoy now as well and as pleasantly as I did forty or fifty years ago. Are not these blessings? Men and women may grow old, if they please, and lose all relish for social intercourse, even among those of their own age; and if they please, they may retain most of the better feelings of their early years, in the particulars before mentioned; and the honest, frank, and cheerful expression of them will generally be reciprocated, even in the circles of the young and gay. These interchanges of thoughts and feelings, in hours of easy and virtuous relaxation, are mutually beneficial, in producing kinder dispositions toward each, and bringing the distant periods of life nearer together, and forming a temperate zone, where the climate becomes more mild, uniform, serene, and salutary. Are not my rules and my practice, then, worthy of imitation, as having an evident tendency to preserve a green old age, and protract the 'Indian summer of the soul,' and keep the heart warm amid the gathering frosts of the December of life?

We cannot open a newspaper, without seeing advertisements of those who have compounded numberless medicines for curing almost all the pains and diseases 'which flesh is heir to;' and are desirous of diffusing them, for the relief of all classes of sufferers, for a moderate pecuniary compensation. And surely there can be no impropriety in my publishing this article for the benefit of all concerned, and giving them, gratis, my friendly advice, on so interesting a subject. My object is as commendable as theirs; and I presume my prescriptions, if duly observed, would promote the moral health of thousands, and save them from the penalty of 'low spirits;' quicken the healthful circulation of the 'social blood,' and add to the life of multitudes years of comfort, ending in a golden sunset.

Senex.

Portland, (Maine,) Nov., 1837.