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gem in an antique setting； the fashion of which has long gone by； but
which leaves the jewel the color and brightness which are its
inalienable qualities。 With old men it is too often different。 They
do not belong so much indoors as women do。 They have no pretty
little manual occupations。 The old lady knits or stitches so long as
her eyes and fingers will let her。 The old man smokes his pipe； but
does not know what to do with his fingers； unless he plays upon some
instrument； or has a mechanical turn which finds business for them。
But the old writer； I said to The Teacups； as I say to you； my
readers； labors under one special difficulty； which I am thinking of
and exemplifying at this moment。 He is constantly tending to reflect
upon and discourse about his own particular stage of life。 He feels
that he must apologize for his intrusion upon the time and thoughts
of a generation which he naturally supposes must be tired of him； if
they ever had any considerable regard for him。 Now； if the world of
readers hates anything it sees in print； it is apology。 If what one
has to say is worth saying； he need not beg pardon fur saying it。 If
it is not worth saying I will not finish the sentence。 But it is so
hard to resist the temptation； notwithstanding that the terrible line
beginning 〃Superfluous lags the veteran〃 is always repeating itself
in his dull ear！
What kind of audience or reading parish is a man who secured his
constituency in middle life； or before that period； to expect when he
has reached the age of threescore and twenty？ His coevals have
dropped away by scores and tens； and he sees only a few units
scattered about here and there； like the few beads above the water
after a ship has gone to pieces。 Does he write and publish for those
of his own time of life？ He need not print a large edition。 Does he
hope to secure a hearing from those who have come into the reading
world since his coevals？ They have found fresher fields and greener
pastures。 Their interests are in the out…door； active world。 Some
of them are circumnavigating the planet while he is hitching his
rocking chair about his hearth…rug。 Some are gazing upon the
pyramids while he is staring at his andirons。 Some are settling the
tariff and fixing the laws of suffrage and taxation while he is
dozing over the weather bulletin； and going to sleep over the
obituaries in his morning or evening paper。
Nature is wiser than we give her credit for being； never wiser than
in her dealings with the old。 She has no idea of mortifying them by
sudden and wholly unexpected failure of the chief servants of
consciousness。 The sight； for instance； begins to lose something of
its perfection long before its deficiency calls the owner's special
attention to it。 Very probably； the first hint we have of the change
is that a friend makes the pleasing remark that we are 〃playing the
trombone；〃 as he calls it； that is； moving a book we are holding
backward and forward； to get the right focal distance。 Or it may be
we find fault with the lamp or the gas…burner for not giving so much
light as it used to。 At last； somewhere between forty and fifty； we
begin to dangle a jaunty pair of eye…glasses； half plaything and half
necessity。 In due time a pair of sober； business…like spectacles
bestrides the nose。 Old age leaps upon it as his saddle； and rides
triumphant； unchallenged； until the darkness comes which no glasses
can penetrate。 Nature is pitiless in carrying out the universal
sentence； but very pitiful in her mode of dealing with the condemned
on his way to the final scene。 The man who is to be hanged always
has a good breakfast provided for him。
Do not think that the old look upon themselves as the helpless；
hopeless； forlorn creatures which they seem to young people。 Do
these young folks suppose that all vanity dies out of the natures of
old men and old women？ A dentist of olden time told me that a good…
looking young man once said to him； 〃Keep that incisor presentable；
if you can； till I am fifty； and then I sha'n't care how I look。〃 I
venture to say that that gentleman was as particular about his
personal appearance and as proud of his good looks at fifty； and many
years after fifty； as he was in the twenties； when he made that
speech to the dentist。
My dear friends around the teacups； and at that wider board where I
am now entertaining； or trying to entertain； my company； is it not as
plain to you as it is to me that I had better leave such tasks as
that which I am just finishing to those who live in a more
interesting period of life than one which； in the order of nature； is
next door to decrepitude？ Ought I not to regret having undertaken to
report the doings and sayings of the members of the circle which you
have known as The Teacups？
Dear； faithful reader； whose patient eyes have followed my reports
through these long months； you and I are about parting company。
Perhaps you are one of those who have known me under another name； in
those far…off days separated from these by the red sea of the great
national conflict。 When you first heard the tinkle of the teaspoons；
as the table was being made ready for its guests； you trembled for
me； in the kindness of your hearts。 I do not wonder that you did；I
trembled for myself。 But I remembered the story of Sir Cloudesley
Shovel； who was seen all of a tremor just as he was going into
action。 〃How is this？〃 said a brother officer to him。 〃Surely you
are not afraid？〃 〃 No；〃 he answered； 〃but my flesh trembles at the
thought of the dangers into which my intrepid spirit will carry me。〃
I knew the risk of undertaking to carry through a series of connected
papers。 And yet I thought it was better to run that risk； more
manly； more sensible； than to give way to the fears which made my
flesh tremble as did Sir Cloudesley Shovel's。 For myself the labor
has been a distraction； and one which came at a time when it was
needed。 Sometimes； as in one of those poems recently published；the
reader will easily guess which；the youthful spirit has come over me
with such a rush that it made me feel just as I did when I wrote the
history of the 〃One…hoss Shay〃 thirty years ago。 To repeat one of my
comparisons； it was as if an early fruit had ripened on a graft upon
an old； steady…going tree； to the astonishment of all its later…
maturing products。 I should hardly dare to say so much as this if I
had not heard a similar opinion expressed by others。
Once committed to my undertaking； there was no turning back。 It is
true that I had said I might stop at any moment； but after one or two
numbers it seemed as if there were an informal pledge to carry the
series on； as in former cases； until I had completed my dozen
instalments。
Writers and speakers have their idiosyncrasies； their habits； their
tricks； if you had rather call them so； as to their ways of writing
and speaking。 There is a very old and familiar story； accompanied by
a feeble jest； which most of my readers may probably enough have met
with in Joe Miller or elsewhere。 It is that of a lawyer who could
never make an argument without having a piece of thread to work upon
with his fingers while he was pleading。 Some one stole it from him
one day； and he could not get on at all with his speech；he had lost
the thread of his discourse； as the story had it。 Now this is what I
myself once saw。 It was at a meeting where certain grave matters
were debated in an assembly of professional men。 A speaker； whom I
never heard before or since； got up and made a long and forcible
argument。 I do not think he was a lawyer； but he spoke as if he had
been trained to talk to juries。 He held a long string in one hand；
which he drew through the other band incessantly； as he spoke； just
as a shoe maker performs the motion of waxing his thread。 He
appeared to be dependent on this motion。 The physiological
significance of the fact I suppose to be that the flow of what we
call the nervous current from the thinking centre to the organs of
speech was rendered freer and easier by the establishment of a
simultaneous collateral nervous current to the set of muscles
concerned in the action I have described。
I do not use a string to help me write or speak； but I must have its
equivalent。 I must have my paper and pen or pencil before me to set
my thoughts flowing in such form that they can be written
continuously。 There have been lawyers who could think out their
whole argument in connected order without a single note。 There are
authors；and I think there are many；who can compose and finish off
a poem or a story without writing a word of it until； when the proper
time comes； they copy what they carry in their heads。 I have been
told that Sir Edwin Arnold thought out his beautiful 〃Light of Asia〃
in this way。
I find the great charm of writing consists in its surpr