274 POT-POURRI FROM A SURREY GARDEN 



make a great mistake in thinking that by living even as 

 many as eighteen years in retirement they will lose all 

 their friends in a way that would prove disadvantageous 

 either to themselves or their children. The friends of 

 our youth are our contemporaries, and we never can 

 forget or meet on terms of formality the men and women 

 with whom we once were intimate. The first word that 

 drops from the lips, on meeting after years of separation, 

 is, as often as not, the old familiar Christian name. 



More than thirty years ago the following little poem 

 was given to me as having been written in fun by James 

 Spedding, the distinguished author of the Life of Bacon. 

 I thrilled with excitement when I first read it, which will 

 not surprise anyone who remembers the position between 

 youth and age fifty years ago. The young were supposed 

 to be foolish, the old to be all wisdom and experience. 

 Now this is so changed that the old are having rather 

 a bad time ; and the truth contained in this poem still 

 appeals to me, though from an entirely different point of 

 view. Whether we are so fortunate as to have children, 

 or so unfortunate as not to have them, it makes, in my 

 opinion, no difference. Once we have reached a certain 

 age, the sensible thing is to acknowledge that our lives 

 are more or less over. The best way we can then serve 

 our country, or give dignity and happiness to our old age, 

 is to lend all the help in our power to the young in fact, 

 always to be ready to open the door to those who are 

 knocking. 



THE ANTIQUITY OF MAN 



When I was a freshman, old age did appear 



A reverend and beautiful thing ; 

 For knowledge must gather as year follows year, 



And wisdom from knowledge should spring. 



