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with all our energy； while yet we have it； and to be grateful for
forever。
CHAPTER XI。 TALK AND TALKERS （6）
II
IN the last paper there was perhaps too much about mere debate； and
there was nothing said at all about that kind of talk which is
merely luminous and restful； a higher power of silence； the quiet
of the evening shared by ruminating friends。 There is something；
aside from personal preference； to be alleged in support of this
omission。 Those who are no chimney…cornerers； who rejoice in the
social thunderstorm； have a ground in reason for their choice。
They get little rest indeed； but restfulness is a quality for
cattle； the virtues are all active； life is alert； and it is in
repose that men prepare themselves for evil。 On the other hand；
they are bruised into a knowledge of themselves and others； they
have in a high degree the fencer's pleasure in dexterity displayed
and proved； what they get they get upon life's terms； paying for it
as they go； and once the talk is launched； they are assured of
honest dealing from an adversary eager like themselves。 The
aboriginal man within us； the cave…dweller； still lusty as when he
fought tooth and nail for roots and berries； scents this kind of
equal battle from afar； it is like his old primaeval days upon the
crags； a return to the sincerity of savage life from the
comfortable fictions of the civilised。 And if it be delightful to
the Old Man； it is none the less profitable to his younger brother；
the conscientious gentleman I feel never quite sure of your urbane
and smiling coteries； I fear they indulge a man's vanities in
silence； suffer him to encroach； encourage him on to be an ass； and
send him forth again； not merely contemned for the moment； but
radically more contemptible than when he entered。 But if I have a
flushed； blustering fellow for my opposite； bent on carrying a
point； my vanity is sure to have its ears rubbed； once at least； in
the course of the debate。 He will not spare me when we differ； he
will not fear to demonstrate my folly to my face。
For many natures there is not much charm in the still； chambered
society； the circle of bland countenances； the digestive silence；
the admired remark； the flutter of affectionate approval。 They
demand more atmosphere and exercise； 〃a gale upon their spirits；〃
as our pious ancestors would phrase it； to have their wits well
breathed in an uproarious Valhalla。 And I suspect that the choice；
given their character and faults； is one to be defended。 The
purely wise are silenced by facts； they talk in a clear atmosphere；
problems lying around them like a view in nature； if they can be
shown to be somewhat in the wrong； they digest the reproof like a
thrashing； and make better intellectual blood。 They stand
corrected by a whisper； a word or a glance reminds them of the
great eternal law。 But it is not so with all。 Others in
conversation seek rather contact with their fellow…men than
increase of knowledge or clarity of thought。 The drama； not the
philosophy； of life is the sphere of their intellectual activity。
Even when they pursue truth； they desire as much as possible of
what we may call human scenery along the road they follow。 They
dwell in the heart of life； the blood sounding in their ears； their
eyes laying hold of what delights them with a brutal avidity that
makes them blind to all besides； their interest riveted on people；
living； loving； talking； tangible people。 To a man of this
description； the sphere of argument seems very pale and ghostly。
By a strong expression； a perturbed countenance； floods of tears；
an insult which his conscience obliges him to swallow； he is
brought round to knowledge which no syllogism would have conveyed
to him。 His own experience is so vivid； he is so superlatively
conscious of himself； that if； day after day； he is allowed to
hector and hear nothing but approving echoes； he will lose his hold
on the soberness of things and take himself in earnest for a god。
Talk might be to such an one the very way of moral ruin； the school
where he might learn to be at once intolerable and ridiculous。
This character is perhaps commoner than philosophers suppose。 And
for persons of that stamp to learn much by conversation； they must
speak with their superiors； not in intellect； for that is a
superiority that must be proved； but in station。 If they cannot
find a friend to bully them for their good； they must find either
an old man； a woman； or some one so far below them in the
artificial order of society； that courtesy may he particularly
exercised。
The best teachers are the aged。 To the old our mouths are always
partly closed； we must swallow our obvious retorts and listen。
They sit above our heads； on life's raised dais； and appeal at once
to our respect and pity。 A flavour of the old school； a touch of
something different in their manner … which is freer and rounder；
if they come of what is called a good family； and often more timid
and precise if they are of the middle class … serves； in these
days； to accentuate the difference of age and add a distinction to
gray hairs。 But their superiority is founded more deeply than by
outward marks or gestures。 They are before us in the march of man；
they have more or less solved the irking problem； they have battled
through the equinox of life； in good and evil they have held their
course； and now； without open shame； they near the crown and
harbour。 It may be we have been struck with one of fortune's
darts； we can scarce be civil； so cruelly is our spirit tossed。
Yet long before we were so much as thought upon； the like calamity
befell the old man or woman that now； with pleasant humour； rallies
us upon our inattention； sitting composed in the holy evening of
man's life； in the clear shining after rain。 We grow ashamed of
our distresses； new and hot and coarse； like villainous roadside
brandy； we see life in aerial perspective； under the heavens of
faith； and out of the worst； in the mere presence of contented
elders； look forward and take patience。 Fear shrinks before them
〃like a thing reproved；〃 not the flitting and ineffectual fear of
death； but the instant； dwelling terror of the responsibilities and
revenges of life。 Their speech； indeed； is timid； they report
lions in the path； they counsel a meticulous footing； but their
serene； marred faces are more eloquent and tell another story。
Where they have gone； we will go also； not very greatly fearing；
what they have endured unbroken； we also； God helping us； will make
a shift to bear。
Not only is the presence of the aged in itself remedial； but their
minds are stored with antidotes； wisdom's simples； plain
considerations overlooked by youth。 They have matter to
communicate； be they never so stupid。 Their talk is not merely
literature； it is great literature； classic in virtue of the
speaker's detachment； studded； like a book of travel； with things
we should not otherwise have learnt。 In virtue； I have said； of
the speaker's detachment； … and this is why； of two old men； the
one who is not your father speaks to you with the more sensible
authority； for in the paternal relation the oldest have lively
interests and remain still young。 Thus I have known two young men
great friends； each swore by the other's father； the father of each
swore by the other lad； and yet each pair of parent and child were
perpetually by the ears。 This is typical： it reads like the germ
of some kindly comedy。
The old appear in conversation in two characters： the critically
silent and the garrulous anecdotic。 The last is perhaps what we
look for； it is perhaps the more instructive。 An old gentleman；
well on in years； sits handsomely and naturally in the bow…window
of his age； scanning experience with reverted eye； and chirping and
smiling； communicates the accidents and reads the lesson of his
long career。 Opinions are strengthened； indeed； but they are also
weeded out in the course of years。 What remains steadily present
to the eye of the retired veteran in his hermitage； what still
ministers to his content； what still quickens his old honest heart
… these are 〃the real long…lived things〃 that Whitman tells us to
prefer。 Where youth agrees with age； not where they differ； wisdom
lies； and it is when the young disciple finds his heart to beat in
tune with his gray…bearded teacher's that a lesson may be learned。
I have known one old gentleman； whom I may name； for he in now
gathered to his stock … Robert Hunter； Sheriff of Dumbarton； and
author of an excellent law…book still re…edited and republished。
Whether he was originally big or little is more than I can guess。
When I knew him he was all fallen away and fallen i