pportunity of meeting has
occurred, we do not feel that our life is much the poorer for the loss.

Also, we _grow_ out of some of our friendships. This is to be
expected, since so many of them are formed thoughtlessly, or before we
really knew either ourselves or our friends. They never meant very
much to us. Most boyish friendships as a rule do not last long,
because they are not based on the qualities which wear well. Schoolboy
comradeships are usually due to propinquity rather than to character.
They are the fruit of accident rather than of affinity of soul. Boys
grow out of these as they grow out of their clothes. Now and again
they suffer from growing pains, but it is more discomfort than anything
else.

It is sad to look back and realize how few of one's early
companionships remain, but it is not possible to blame either party for
the loss. Distance, separation of interest, difference of work, all
operate to divide. When athletics seemed the end of existence,
friendship was based on football and baseball. But as life opens out,
other standards are set up, and a new principle of selection takes its
place. When the world is seen to be more than a ball-ground, when it
is recognized to be a stage oh which men play many parts, a new sort of
intimacy is demanded, and it does not follow that it will be with the
same persons. Such loss as this is the condition which accompanies the
gain of growth.

There is more chance for the permanence of friendships formed a little
later. It must not be too long after this period, however; for, when
the generous time of youth has wholly passed, it becomes hard to make
new connections. Men get over-burdened with cares and personal
concerns, and grow cautious about making advances. In youth the heart
is responsive and ready to be generous, and the hand aches for the
grasp of a comrade's hand, and the mind demands fellowship in the great
thoughts that are beginning to dawn upon it. The closest friendships
are formed early in life, just because then we are less cautious, more
open to impressions, and readier to welcome self-revelations. After
middle life a man does not find it easy to give himself away, and keeps
a firmer hand on his feelings. Whatever are the faults of youth, it is
unworldly in its estimates as a rule, and uncalculating in its thoughts
of the future.

The danger to such friendship is the danger of just letting it lapse.
As life spreads out before the