The times., 1899-12-31

I thirty eight millions-wbo can understand
/ why a person should have an ambition 10
/ belong to the French army; and why. be-
1 longing 10 IT, he should be proud OF that:
and why, having got down that far, ne
( should want to go on down, down, down,
/ till he struck bottom and gCt on the general
! staff and why being stripped of his liv-
/ cry, or set free and reinvested with his
1 self-respect by any other quick and thor
/ ough process. let it be what il might. he
should wish 20 return TO his strange ssrf-
/ age. But no matter: the estimate put upon
I these things by the fifteen hundred and
/ sixty millions is no proper measure OF their
/ value; the proper measure. the just meas
/ uTe, IS that which is put upon them BY
I Dreyfus. and is cipheTable merely upon the
/ littleness or the yastness of the disappOint-
ment which their loss cost him
! There you have il: the measure Of the
magnitude Of dresn-failure is the meaSs
ure Of the disappointment the failure cost
I the dreamer. the value, in others eyes, OF
the thing lost. has nothing to do with the
matter. With this Strengthening out and
classification of the dreamer's position TO
/ help US, perhaps we can put ourselves in
I his place and respect his drcam-DrgyIus'
and the dreams our friends have cherished
and revealed to US. Some that I call to mind,
/ some that have been revealed TO me- are
curious enough; but We may not smile at
them for they were precious 70 the dream
ers. aud heir failure has left sears which
give them dignity and pathOs. With this
theme in my mind, dear heads that were
brown when they and mine were young
{ together rise old and white before me now.
/ beseeching me 60 speak for them. and most
( lovingly viii do IT,
Howelis, Hay. AldFich. Matthews, Stock
! ton, Ca9le. Remus-hOW their young hopes
and ambitions come flooding back 10 my
/ memory now, out Cf the vague far past
/ the beautiful past the lamented pasti
( remember it so welI-that night we met to-
! gether-it was in Boston and Hr. Fields
was there and Mr.. Osgood and Ralph
Keeler, and Boyle O'ReilIy, lost to US now
these many ye3rs-51d under the seal Of
! confidence revealed 90 each other wha- our
bOyhOod dreams had been, dreams which
had not as get been bi GIFTED. bul over which
was stealing the grey Of the night thai
/ was 10 cOme-a night which we prophet
/ ica!ly felt. and this feeling oppressed us
and made US sad. / remember that How
ellis voice broke twice and it only with
great difficulty that he was able 10 80 on
+ in the end be wept. For he had hCDei TO be
an auctioneer. He told Of his early strug-
/ giles to climb to his goal and how al last
+ he attained 70 within a single step OF the
coveted summit But there misfortune af-
. Ter misfortune dSSdlltQ MN. and ne went
down. and down and down, until now at
last weary and disheartened. he had for
the present given up the struggle and be-
come editor of the Atlantic Monthly"
This was in 1880. Seventy years are gone
/ since, and where now is his dream2 Il viii
never be fulfilled. And il is best so; he is
/ no longer fitted for the position; no one
would take him now; even II ne got it, he
would not be able to do himself credit in
r.fE NF n r.~
{ speech and lack OF trained professional vi
. vacity; he would be put on real estate.
and would have the pain of seeing younger
/ and abler men entrusted with the furniture
/ and other such goOds-goods which draw
a mixed and intellectually low order of
customers. who must be beguiled cf their
bids by q vulgar and specialized humor and
/ sparkle accompanied with antics
But il is not The thing lost that counts,
but only the disappointment the loss brings
10 the dreamer that had coveted that thing
and had set his heart OF hearts upon IT,
and when we remember this great wave
of sorrow for HoWells rises in our breasts
and We wish for his sake that his fate
could have been different
AT that time Hays boyhooI dream was
( not vet past hope of realization but it was
fading, dimming. wasting away and the
. wind of growing apprehension was blow
/ ing cold over the periShjng summer of his
/ life In the pride OF his Young ambition he
had aspired 20 be a steamboat mate, and in
fancy saw himself dominating a forecastIe
some day on the Mississippi and debating
terms TO roustabOuts in high and wound
. ing tones. 1 look back now, from this far
/ distance of seventy years. and note with
[ sorrow the stages of that dreams destruc-
/ tiou. Hays history is but HOWeIs with
/ differences OF detail Hay climbed high to-
ward his ideal. when success seemed al
I most sure his foot upon the very gang
. plank his eve upon the capsJau. misfortune
came and his fan began Dowu-doUn-
/ dOWn-ever down. Private Secretary TO
the President, colonel i'm the field. Charge
| d'Anaires in Paris; Charge d'Anaires in
/ Vienna; poet, editor Of the Tribune" BIZ
| osrapher of Lincoln; Ambassador 20 Eng
land, and now at last there he lies-Secra-
tary OF State, head Of foreign affairs. And
he has fallen like Lucifer. never to rise
again. And his dream-Where now is his
drCGm2 Gone down in blood and tears
with the dream OF the auctioneer
And the young dream of Aldrich-whcre
is that I remember yet how he sat there
that night fondliHg it, petting IL, seeing il
recede and ever reCede; trying to be recon
I Ciled and give it up but not able vet 20
bear the thought; for il had been his hope
TO be a horse doctor. He. also climbed high
but like the others, fell. then fell again.
and yet again. and again and again. And
now at last he can fan TO further He is
old now; he has ceased TO struggle, and is
| only a poet No one would risk horse
with him now His dream is over.
Has any boyhoOd dream ever been full
Glled2 1 must doubt it. Look at Brauder
/ Matthews. He wanted to be a cowboy.
What is he today? Nothing but a pro-
fessor in a university. viii he ever be a
COW boy? 1t is hardly conceivable.
! Look at Stockton. What was StOCkJOn's
| young dream? He hoped TO be a barkeeper.
See where he has landed.
/ Is il better with Cable2 What was Ca
bles young dream2 To be ringmaster in
the circus and swell around and crack the
whip What is he today Nothing but
/ theoiogian and novelist.
An, the dreams of our youth, how beau
/ tiful they are. and how perishable, The
| ruins of these might have beens how pa
| thetic The heart secrets that were re-
yealed that night now so long vanished
how they touch me as ! give them voicei
! Those sweet priyacies. how they endeared
us to each other. We were under oath
never to tell any of these things and l
| have always kept that oath iHviOlate when
! speaking with persons whom / thought not
/ worthy 20 hear them.
| Oh our lost Youth--Gad keep its memory
| green in our hearts, for Age is upon us.
with the indignity OF its inhrmities. ar
( Death beekons.