their leap-frog. But if we must withdraw in a measure from sociable
relations with our fellows, let it be as the wise creatures that creep
aside and wrap themselves up and lay themselves by that their wings may
grow and put on the lovely hues of their coming resurrection. Such a
withdrawing is in the name of youth. And while it is pleasant--no one knows
how pleasant except him who experiences it--to sit apart and see the drama
of life going on around him, while his feelings are calm and free, his
vision clear, and his judgment righteous, the old man must ever be ready,
should the sweep of action catch him in its skirts, to get on his tottering
old legs, and go with brave heart to do the work of a true man, none the
less true that his hands tremble, and that he would gladly return to his
chimney-corner. If he is never thus called out, let him examine himself,
lest he should be falling into the number of those that say, "I go, sir,"
and go not; who are content with thinking beautiful things in an Atlantis,
Oceana, Arcadia, or what it may be, but put not forth one of their fingers
to work a salvation in the earth. Better than such is the man who, using
just weights and a true balance, sells good flour, and never has a thought
of his own.

I have been talking--to my reader is it? or to my supposed group of
grandchildren? I remember--to my companions in old age. It is time I
returned to the company who are hearing my whispers at the other side of
the great thundering gallery. I take leave of my old friends with one word:
We have yet a work to do, my friends; but a work we shall never do aright
after ceasing to understand the new generation. We are not the men, neither
shall wisdom die with us. The Lord hath not forsaken his people because the
young ones do not think just as the old ones choose. The Lord has something
fresh to tell them, and is getting them ready to receive his message. When
we are out of sympathy with the young, then I think our work in this world
is over. It might end more honourably.