The record-union., 1896-12-06

With perfect quiet around me I sit at
the end of Thanksgiving Day in the
book-lined study of an aged minister
surely a right psychological climate for
in this room have been written words to
sick souls-and think over my weekly
message To whom shall it be directed!
To the Aged: Have you at this sea-
SON thanked the Almighty for sparlng
your life up to the present, or have you
been moaning for the good old days?
trust not this latter. l read in Shakes
peare and other early books many
things regarding the aged. In those
swash buckler times the average man
no sooner lost mis- quickness of eye and
activity of body than he was too often
carelessly pushed aside to develop
peevishness and a general dissonance
from the world. I have not the slight
est doubt that Shakespeare correctly
mirrowed his day and age.
Compare those conditions with the
present. Admitting that there is a sort
of dead-line at fifty, after which man
can scarcely hope to get entry into a
new business, the young and active be-
ing almost alone in demand, there yet
of life to enjoy the fruits of early in
dustry and to take share in a world that
holds out vast possibilities of rich in
spiration in church work, in reforms, in
culture. and in thought.
But to enjoy life and to fight off the
day when the young no longer listen to
you with interest you must make up
your mind not to oppose new knowledge
i,,c r.
lier impressions. Whenever, as init
mated. you sigh for the former days,
and say the present are worse, it is an
undoubted evidence to your listeners
that your mind is no longer. receptive
and that you are not merely old in
years, but actually and really old in
mind.
He who is constantly gaining knowl
edge and assimilating it never grows
old; and when Natures last debt is
paid he is sincerely missed.
Some time ago I was visiting in a
doctors office in Delaware. In came his
silver haired wife, woman Of seventy,
and with good deal of glee she point
ed to the perfect arrangement of the
petals of plant that she had not hith-
erto noticed in the garden. I glanced
at her radiant face and understood the
secret Of beautiful, companionable age;
it is always to be on the alert for some
thing new and interesting in this
blessed world wherein we are permitted
to linger for time.
A perfect illustration of this is seen in
that dear "Old Boy Oliver Wendell
Holmes. Gladstone is another case. No
one can associate the idea of age with
him, when, with persistency most re-
markable, he continues to write on the
most erudite subjects and brightens
them with the very latest gleanings of
knowledge.
Another instance comes to my mind.
Last Sunday / heard DIR. Edward Ever
EFT Hale Of Boston. This friend of
Holmes, and of the group who have
made Boston famous in American litera
ture, is growing very old. but, like
Moses, his fire is not abated. His voice,
instead Of being a treble or husky pip
ing, is deep and full, and makes me
think, from it's resonance and power, of
the voice of one who shOuteth beneath a
bridge When he blurted out in his pc
culiar way some emphatic thought his
whole body seemed to rise up and dis
tend in the pulpit. Yet, thought /, man
nerisms, voice, fame, these three, would
not have drawn such an audience had
there not been in his sermon perfect
and harmonious touch with the thought,
the questions, the difficulties of this ac
tual present day.
All cannot be as pleasant as Holmes
nor as learned as Gladstone, nor as in
fiuental as Hale, but none are as limited
in their possibilities and their enjoy
ments as those Of an earlier age.
Your only hope for the complete con-
fidence of the young around you is to
make them feel your interest In the pres
ent day and your kindly entry into their
problems and perplexities Any differ
ent course will estrange them and you
will be bereft of the sweetest solace of
age that comes from the looking up
ward of the young for advice and guild
ance. Almost with a hush in his voice,
one of the college boys said to me to-day
W hen l was walking through Princeton
on my way to Trenton for my Thanks
giving dinner: Mrs. McCosh looks af-
ter us boys yet What do you think?
The other day she called on a sick boy
though she did not know him. We boys
har That iS a model old