o do; and the shadow of it, however
indistinct and distant, makes the landscape near the horizon look
somewhat dreary. The nature of many of us is so faulty and ill
regulated, that it may be doubted if even advancing years will make us
much better or wiser; but, when winter shall have closed in, and our hot
blood is more than cool, is there no chance of an "open season?" Must it
come to this--that the mere sight of the youth, and strength, and beauty
that have left us far behind shall stir our bile, as though it were an
insolent parade--that the choicest delicacies at our neighbor's
wedding-breakfast shall not pique our palate like the baked meats at his
funeral? Not so; if we must give ground let us retreat in good order,
leaving no shield behind us that our enemy may build into his trophy. If
we are rash enough to assail Lady Violet Vavasour with petitions for a
waltz, and see her look doubtfully down her scribbled tablets, till the
"sweetest lips that ever were kissed" can find no gentler answer than
the terrible "Engaged," let us not gnash suicidally our few remaining
teeth, even though Brabazon Leslie--all the handsomer for the scar on
his smooth forehead--should come up upon our traces, and ride roughshod
over those hieroglyphics, as he did at Balaclava through Russian
squadrons. Rather let us try to sympathize with his triumph, while he
carries off his beautiful prize from under the enemy's guns, as
Dundonald may have cut out a frigate beneath the batteries of Vera Cruz.
_Non omnia corripit aevum._ Hath the savor departed wholly from the
Gascon wine, because the name of no living love crowns the draught?
Shall we stay sullenly at home when all the world is flocking to the
tournament, because our limbs have stiffened so that we may no longer
sit saddlefast, and hold our own in the _melee_? A corner in the
cushioned gallery is left to us still. Come, comrade of mine--_nate
mecum Consule Manlio_--we will go up and lounge there among the
Chatelaines: some may be found good-natured enough to listen (in the
pauses of the tilting), while we tell how, not so many years back, plume
and pennon went down before our lance.

I place no great reliance on the Pleasures of Memory. But, if pearls and
bright shells be rarely found there, surely waifs, better than _echini_
and sting-rays, are to be gathered on the "shores of long ago." Ah,
cynic! you are strong enough to be merciful--just this once. Spare us
the string of examples