It Was Part Of Your

You Will Find The Poet Who Wrings The Heart Of The World, Or The Foremost Captain Of His Time, Driving A Bargain Or Paring A Potato, Just As You Would Do.

Every Child Was Taught From His Cradle That Money Was Mammon, The Chief Agent Of The Flesh And The Devil. As He Grew Up It Was His Duty As A Christian And A Gentleman To Appear To Despise Filthy Lucre, Whatever His Secret Opinion Of It Might Be.

The New Englander Landed On A Stony, Barren Tract, And A Large Share Of His Strength During Two Centuries Has Gone To Force A Living Out Of It. Hence He Has Come To Regard Economy - A Necessary Unpleasant Quality At Best - As The Chief Of Virtues. He Has Cultivated Habits Which Verge On Closeness In Dealing With Food, And With The Expression Of Feeling, And Even - His Enemies Think - With Feeling Itself.

It Is A Mistake To Talk Of The Twilight Of Age, Or The Blurred Sight Of Old People. The Long Day Grows Clearer At Its Close, And The Petty Fogs Of Prejudice Which Rose Between Us And Our Fellows In Youth Melt Away As The Sun Goes Down. At Last We See God's Creatures As They Are.

You Were Only Truly Patriotic If You Had A Laborer For A Grandfather And Were Glad Of It.