It was a ridiculous exhibition, because one was practically sure that there was nothing of the kind going on.  One was inclined to believe that they were mugs of sympathy filled at the pump of egotism!  But if the thing were really being done, it was certainly worth doing!

One of the causes of the failure of nerve-force in age, which lies behind so much of these miseries, is that people who have lived at all active lives cannot bring themselves to realise their loss of vigour, and try to prolong the natural energies of middle age into the twilight of elderliness.  Men and women cling to activities, not because they enjoy them, but to delude themselves into believing that they are still young.  That terrible inability to resign positions, the duties of which one cannot adequately fulfil, which seems so disgraceful and unconscientious a handling of life to the young, is often a pathetic clinging to youth.  Such veterans do not reflect that the only effect of such tenacity is partly that other people do their work, and partly also that the critic observes that if a post can be adequately filled by so old a man it is a proof that such a post ought not to exist.  The tendency ought to be met as far as possible by fixing age-limits to all positions.  Because even if the old and weary do consult their friends as to the advisability of retirement, it is very hard for the friends cordially to recommend it.  A public man once told me that a very aged official consulted him as to the propriety of resignation.  He said in his reply something complimentary about the value of the veteran’s services.  Whereupon the old man replied that as he set so high an estimation upon his work, he would endeavour to hold on a little longer!

The conscientious thing to do, as we get older and find ourselves slower, more timid, more inactive, more anxious, is to consult a candid friend, and to follow his advice rather than our own inclination; a certain fearfulness, an avoidance of unpleasant duty, a dreary foreboding, is apt to be characteristic of age.  But we must meet it philosophically.  We must reflect that we have done our work, and that an attempt to galvanise ourselves into activity is sure to result in depression.  So we must condense our energies, be content to play a little, to drowse a little, to watch with interest the game of life in which we cannot take a hand, until death falls as naturally upon our wearied eyes as sleep falls upon the eyes of a child tired with a long summer day of eager pleasure and delight.

But there is one practical counsel that may here be given to all who find a tendency to dread and anxiety creeping upon them as life advances.  I have known very truly and deeply religious people who have been thus beset, and who make their fears the subject of earnest prayer, asking that this particular terror may be spared them, that this cup may be withdrawn from their shuddering lips.  I do not believe that this is the right way of meeting the situation.