to mend.

I might have said more to him: but did not. For it is not well
to destroy too early the child's illusion, that people must be
wise because they are grown up, and have votes, and rule--or think
they rule--the world. The child will find out how true that is
soon enough for himself. If the truth be forced on him by the hot
words of those with whom he lives, it is apt to breed in him that
contempt, stormful and therefore barren, which makes revolutions;
and not that pity, calm and therefore helpful, which makes
reforms.

So I might have said to him, but did not -
And then men pray for rain:

My boy, did you ever hear the old Eastern legend about the
Gipsies? How they were such good musicians, that some great
Indian Sultan sent for the whole tribe, and planted them near his
palace, and gave them land, and ploughs to break it up, and seed
to sow it, that they might dwell there, and play and sing to him.

But when the winter arrived, the Gipsies all came to the Sultan,
and cried that they were starving. "But what have you done with
the seed-corn which I gave you?" "O Light of the Age, we ate it
in the summer." "And what have you done with the ploughs which I
gave you?" "O Glory of the Universe, we burnt them to bake the
corn withal."

Then said that great Sultan--"Like the butterflies you have lived;
and like the butterflies you shall wander." So he drove them out.