Natural Wonders

by Edwin Tenney Brewster

For get hard you will. Then you will be grown up. When you are just hard enough, you will be in the prime of life, able to work as easily as you now play, and liking it, I hope, even better. But still you will keep on getting hard; and when you get too hard, then you are old.

So growing old is growing hard. And since the younger you are, the faster you grow, you never grew old so fast as when you were a tiny baby, and you never again will grow old so fast as you are growing old now.

And the moral is, as the Duchess used to tell Alice, that since we stay young and soft only a very short while, and grown-up and hard most of our days, we’d better, as much as we possibly can, make the short end of our lives help out the long one.

What I mean is this. While we are young, we are soft and plastic and teachable. As we grow older, not only do our bodies harden, but our minds also. We can do a great deal more after we are grown up than we can while we are children; and I think we are, if less light-hearted, on the whole quite as happy. But we shall be a great deal less able to take up anything new. Let us, therefore, practice while we are young those things which will bring us most happiness, after we are too old to change.

For example, suppose a boy is fond of out-door games, as every normal and healthy boy ought to be. He plays baseball all the spring, tennis all summer, football thruout the autumn, and what there is left of the year goes into ice hockey. He plays expertly, has a glorious time; and he grows up manly and strong. This is as it should be—so far.

But suppose the same boy, thru school and college and at work. There is no more football for him, and no more ice hockey. For a few years he may get an occasional game of baseball; if he is very lucky he will get a little tennis. But tell me, boy who is reading this page, how many of your father’s friends and associates ever play at all the games at which you spend your spare time?

Now while we are supposing, let us suppose that this boy of ours, instead of spending all his spare time at games, spent only half. The other half he shall devote to sports which are not games. He shall learn to ride a horse, to fish, to handle a sail boat, to swim, row, paddle, to climb mountains, to take care of himself in the woods, and above all to walk thru level country and enjoy the sight of all he sees. By and by, this boy will grow up. In the natural course of things, he will put away bat and ball and hockey stick before he is thirty, but rod and saddle and oar will bring him happiness and health almost to the end of his days.

There is a difference too in games. One plays football thru school and perhaps in college—eight years at the outside. But one world’s champion tennis player was well by forty; he must have played thirty years. A golfer gets forty or fifty years of pleasure for the trouble of learning his game. You may think you will learn the boy’s game now, and the man’s game later. But you won’t. You will learn the man’s game now along with the boy’s, or else you won’t learn it at all. You will be too old to learn, and go gameless to your grave.

Or suppose a girl is fond of music, and learns to play, very nicely, the banjo. It will be charming enough, summer evenings on the porch—so long as one is young and has only a girl’s soul to express in music. But by and by she will grow up to be a woman, and have little children of her own. Will she get out her banjo Sunday evenings and play for them hymns and solemn songs, or tinkle coon melodies for them when they are sick? Indeed she will not. She will put that banjo on the top shelf of the spare bed room closet, and wish she had spent her effort learning some other instrument more worth while.

So it is with everything else. If, while we are young, we train our ears to enjoy good music, and our eyes to love good pictures and good furniture, cloudy landscapes and great trees, and our minds to care for the important things of life, literature and religion and art and science and politics and history, we shall still possess growing sources of happiness longer after we have ceased to care to read stories or to be able to play ball. A wise child will study the happiest adults whom he knows, and learn to like and to do whatever most helps to make them blessed.