said in his reply something complimentary about the value of the
veteran's services. Whereupon the old man replied that as he set so
high an estimation upon his work, he would endeavour to hold on a
little longer!

The conscientious thing to do, as we get older and find ourselves
slower, more timid, more inactive, more anxious, is to consult a
candid friend, and to follow his advice rather than our own
inclination; a certain fearfulness, an avoidance of unpleasant
duty, a dreary foreboding, is apt to be characteristic of age. But
we must meet it philosophically. We must reflect that we have done
our work, and that an attempt to galvanise ourselves into activity
is sure to result in depression. So we must condense our energies,
be content to play a little, to drowse a little, to watch with
interest the game of life in which we cannot take a hand, until
death falls as naturally upon our wearied eyes as sleep falls upon
the eyes of a child tired with a long summer day of eager pleasure
and delight.

But there is one practical counsel that may here be given to all
who find a tendency to dread and anxiety creeping upon them as life
advances. I have known very truly and deeply religious people who
have been thus beset, and who make their fears the subject of
earnest prayer, asking that this particular terror may be spared
them, that this cup may be withdrawn from their shuddering lips. I
do not believe that this is the right way of meeting the situation.
One may pray as whole-heartedly as one will against the tendency to
fear; but it is a great help to realise that the very experiences
which seem now so overwhelming had little or no effect upon one in
youthful and high-hearted days. It is not really that the quality