Will makes men giants. It made
Napoleon an emperor of kings, Bacon a fathomer of nature, Byron a tutor
of passion, and the martyrs masters of Death!
In this age of manhood you look back upon the dreams of the years that
are past: they glide to the vision in pompous procession; they seem
bloated with infancy. They are without sinew or bone. They do not bear
the hard touches of the man's hand.
It is not long, to be sure, since the summer of life ended with that
broken hope; but the few years that lie between have given long steps
upward. The little grief that threw its shadow, and the broken vision
that deluded you, have made the passing years long in such feeling as
ripens manhood. Nothing lays the brown of autumn upon the green of
summer so quick as storms.
There have been changes too in the home scenes; these graft age upon a
man. Nelly--your sweet Nelly of childhood, your affectionate sister of
youth--has grown out of the old brotherly companionship into the new
dignity of a household.
The fire flames and flashes upon the accustomed hearth. The father's
chair is there in the wonted corner; he himself--we must call him the
old man now, though his head shows few white honors--wears a calmness
and a trust that light the failing eye.
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