Lifeisapetitverreofaverypeculiarkindofspirit。Atseventyyearsitusedtobesaidthatthelittleglasswasfull。Weshouldbemoreapttoputitateightyinourday,whileGladstoneandTennysonandourownWhittierarebreathing,moving,thinking,writing,speaking,inthegreenpreservebelongingtotheirchildrenandgrandchildren,andBancroftiskeepingwatchofthegamekeeperinthedistance。But,returningresolutelytothepetitverre,Iamwillingtoconcedethatallafterfourscoreisthebaindepieds,——thesloppingover,sotospeak,ofthefullmeasureoflife。I
rememberthatonewhowasverynearanddeartome,andwholivedtoagreatage,sothattheten—barredgateofthecenturydidnotlookveryfaroff,wouldsometimesapologizeinaverysweet,naturalwayforlingeringsolongtobeacareandperhapsaburdentoherchildren,themselvesgettingwellintoyears。Itisnothardtounderstandthefeeling,neverlesscalledforthanitwasinthecaseofthatbelovednonagenarian。Ihaveknownfewpersons,youngorold,moresincerelyandjustlyregrettedthanthegentleladywhosememorycomesupbeforemeasIwrite。
Oh,ifwecouldallgooutofflowerasgracefully,aspleasingly,aswecomeintoblossom！Ialwaysthinkofthemorning—gloryastheloveliestexampleofagracefulyieldingtotheinevitable。Itisbeautifulbeforeitstwistedcorollaopens;itiscomelyasitfoldsitspetalsinward,whenitsbriefhoursofperfectionareover。
Womenfinditeasierthanmentogrowoldinabecomingway。Averyoldladywhohaskeptsomething,itmaybeagreatdeal,ofheryouthfulfeelings,whoisdaintilycaredfor,whoisgratefulfortheattentionsbestoweduponher,andentersintothespiritoftheyounglivesthatsurroundher,isasprecioustothosewholoveherasageminanantiquesetting,thefashionofwhichhaslonggoneby,butwhichleavesthejewelthecolorandbrightnesswhichareitsinalienablequalities。Witholdmenitistoooftendifferent。Theydonotbelongsomuchindoorsaswomendo。Theyhavenoprettylittlemanualoccupations。Theoldladyknitsorstitchessolongashereyesandfingerswilllether。Theoldmansmokeshispipe,butdoesnotknowwhattodowithhisfingers,unlessheplaysuponsomeinstrument,orhasamechanicalturnwhichfindsbusinessforthem。
Buttheoldwriter,IsaidtoTheTeacups,asIsaytoyou,myreaders,laborsunderonespecialdifficulty,whichIamthinkingofandexemplifyingatthismoment。Heisconstantlytendingtoreflectuponanddiscourseabouthisownparticularstageoflife。Hefeelsthathemustapologizeforhisintrusionuponthetimeandthoughtsofagenerationwhichhenaturallysupposesmustbetiredofhim,iftheyeverhadanyconsiderableregardforhim。Now,iftheworldofreadershatesanythingitseesinprint,itisapology。Ifwhatonehastosayisworthsaying,heneednotbegpardonfursayingit。IfitisnotworthsayingIwillnotfinishthesentence。Butitissohardtoresistthetemptation,notwithstandingthattheterriblelinebeginning\"Superfluouslagstheveteran\"isalwaysrepeatingitselfinhisdullear！