Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1869-02-26

the sea come foammg and -umbling in as we
used when We were children or we are out
in the gray Of the morning, with that old
dog at our heels and we put up the little
brown birds and the startled whirring peas
ants as we used to put them up long time
ago. The burning glories of the American
forests, the luxurious loveliness of the South,
the romance of the East, the iervid life of
the tropics, all are as nothing to US compar-
ed to one day of the - hard gray weather -
of our youth, one hour of the sport and Wig
or Of old times. Alas we want to be young
again, that is what our dreams mean for,
without youth, our return to those old loves
is not practically satisfactory. How often,
when we do actually 90 back home after
life spent elsewhere, our dreams vanish We
cannot climb the familiar crags as we used
we cannot stand the fatigue Of long days
partridge shooting through the stubble, or Of
grouse shooting on the mO0rs the oars are
heavy and not so easily feathered as OF old
our gun and rod are less manageable than
they were the young enthusiasm which
cared no more for ducking than 1t cared for
a mdge-bite. il washed away in the fear Of
the rheumatic pains sure to follow damp.
Alas, for the trailty Of the flesh in the pres
ence Of 50 much stOutness of soul Some
times. indeed, we are able to work the new
vein opened up on the old ground, and to ac-
ccpt the former love in its altered relations
with ourselves We then content ourselves
like my Uncle Toby. with mimic repetitiols
Of what we can never perform in their for
mer fulness again ; or we satisfy ourselves
with watching what we cannot share. If we
cannot climb those purple crags, our young
ones can, while we wait down below, watching
the sunshine and the shadow hurying over
them, and bringing ont or covering down
every iut and Granny, every patch Of purple
heather, or golden gorse, or tuft of waving
fern, with the rapidity Of transformation
scene. The love of nature increases with
time, and grows by knowledge the longer
We stand by this great desk, the more we yet
to love the lessons learned on it. and TO ap-
preciate the value of the work it enables us
to perform.
Old books, too, are old friends. TO which
we return with faithful loyalty 1t is doubt
tul if any one who reads GH Bias. D0a
Quir0te or the thousand and Cnc Nights,
for the first time in mature life, ever has the
same exquisite enjoyment of them as those
who have read them while young for the
story, and when old for the art or the Ihilos-
ophy. Delightful they must always be TO
every one with brains, but they have lost
that delicious aroma. that magic c1loring
which the imagination of youth supplies out
Of its own richness.
On r.r5cH' Sos prcDlI.rs am0arS IN relig-
ion, too, as well as in other thnes-H not
always, still often enough 70 furnish an ez-
ample. The convert who has lived content
edly enough in HE new faith. NOT unire-
quently turns back to the old upon bis death
bed, and dies in the creed in which De had
been b5n-hut had not lived All of which
gives US occasion to speculate. whether the
mind be really independent OF only seeming
" 50. and whether first impressions are 10,
Of more importance than an the selcelue-
tion acquired.