I take leave of my old friends with one word:
We have yet a work to do, my friends; but a work we shall never do aright
after ceasing to understand the new generation. We are not the men, neither
shall wisdom die with us. The Lord hath not forsaken his people because the
young ones do not think just as the old ones choose. The Lord has something
fresh to tell them, and is getting them ready to receive his message. When
we are out of sympathy with the young, then I think our work in this world
is over. It might end more honourably.
Now, readers in general, I have had time to consider what to tell you
about, and how to begin. My story will be rather about my family than
myself now. I was as it were a little withdrawn, even by the time of which
I am about to write. I had settled into a gray-haired, quite elderly, yet
active man--young still, in fact, to what I am now. But even then, though
my faith had grown stronger, life had grown sadder, and needed all my
stronger faith; for the vanishing of beloved faces, and the trials of them
that are dear, will make even those that look for a better country both for
themselves and their friends, sad, though it will be with a preponderance
of the first meaning of the word _sad_, which was _settled_, _thoughtful_.
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