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belongings。
Save in some signal exception； a thing taken out of storage cannot be
established in its former function without a sense of its comparative
inadequacy。 It stands in the old place； it serves the old use； and yet
a new thing would be better； it would even in some subtle wise be more
appropriate； if I may indulge so audacious a paradox； for the time is
new； and so will be all the subconscious keeping in which our lives are
mainly passed。 We are supposed to have associations with the old things
which render them precious； but do not the associations rather render
them painful？ If that is true of the inanimate things； how much truer it
is of those personalities which once environed and furnished our lives！
Take the article of old friends； for instance： has it ever happened to
the reader to witness the encounter of old friends after the lapse of
years？ Such a meeting is conventionally imagined to be full of tender
joy； a rapture that vents itself in manly tears； perhaps； and certainly
in womanly tears。 But really is it any such emotion？ Honestly is not it
a cruel embarrassment； which all the hypocritical pretences cannot hide？
The old friends smile and laugh； and babble incoherently at one another；
but are they genuinely glad？ Is not each wishing the other at that end
of the earth from which he came？ Have they any use for each other such
as people of unbroken associations have？
I have lately been privy to the reunion of two old comrades who are bound
together more closely than most men in a community of interests；
occupations； and ideals。 During a long separation they had kept account
of each other's opinions as well as experiences； they had exchanged
letters； from time to time； in which they opened their minds fully to
each other； and found themselves constantly in accord。 When they met
they made a great shouting； and each pretended that he found the other
just what he used to be。 They talked a long； long time； fighting the
invisible enemy which they felt between them。 The enemy was habit； the
habit of other minds and hearts； the daily use of persons and things
which in their separation they had not had in common。 When the old
friends parted they promised to meet every day； and now； since their
lines had been cast in the same places again； to repair the ravage of the
envious years； and become again to each other all that they had ever
been。 But though they live in the same town； and often dine at the same
table； and belong to the same club； yet they have not grown together
again。 They have grown more and more apart； and are uneasy in each
other's presence； tacitly self…reproachful for the same effect which
neither of them could avert or repair。 They had been respectively in
storage； and each； in taking the other out； has experienced in him the
unfitness which grows upon the things put away for a time and reinstated
in a former function。
III。
I have not touched upon these facts of life； without the purpose of
finding some way out of the coil。 There seems none better than the
counsel of keeping one's face set well forward； and one's eyes fixed
steadfastly upon the future。 This is the hint we will get from nature if
we will heed her； and note how she never recurs； never stores or takes
out of storage。 Fancy rehabilitating one's first love： how nature would
mock at that！ We cannot go back and be the men and women we were； any
more than we can go back and be children。 As we grow older； each year's
change in us is more chasmal and complete。 There is no elixir whose
magic will recover us to ourselves as we were last year； but perhaps we
shall return to ourselves more and more in the times； or the eternity； to
come。 Some instinct or inspiration implies the promise of this； but only
on condition that we shall not cling to the life that has been ours； and
hoard its mummified image in our hearts。 We must not seek to store
ourselves； but must part with what we were for the use and behoof of
others； as the poor part with their worldly gear when they move from one
place to another。 It is a curious and significant property of our
outworn characteristics that； like our old furniture； they will serve
admirably in the life of some other； and that this other can profitably
make them his when we can no longer keep them ours； or ever hope to
resume them。 They not only go down to successive generations； but they
spread beyond our lineages； and serve the turn of those whom we never
knew to be within the circle of our influence。
Civilization imparts itself by some such means； and the lower classes are
clothed in the cast conduct of the upper； which if it had been stored
would have left the inferiors rude and barbarous。 We have only to think
how socially naked most of us would be if we had not had the beautiful
manners of our exclusive society to put on at each change of fashion when
it dropped them。
All earthly and material things should be worn out with use； and not
preserved against decay by any unnatural artifice。 Even when broken and
disabled from overuse they have a kind of respectability which must
commend itself to the observer； and which partakes of the pensive grace
of ruin。 An old table with one leg gone； and slowly lapsing to decay in
the woodshed； is the emblem of a fitter order than the same table； with
all its legs intact； stored with the rest of the furniture from a broken
home。 Spinning…wheels gathering dust in the garret of a house that is
itself falling to pieces have a dignity that deserts them when they are
dragged from their refuge； and furbished up with ribbons and a tuft of
fresh tow； and made to serve the hollow occasions of bric…a…brac； as they
were a few years ago。 A pitcher broken at the fountain； or a battered
kettle on a rubbish heap； is a venerable object； but not crockery and
copper…ware stored in the possibility of future need。 However carefully
handed down from one generation to another； the old objects have a
forlorn incongruity in their successive surroundings which appeals to the
compassion rather than the veneration of the witness。
It was from a truth deeply mystical that Hawthorne declared against any
sort of permanence in the dwellings of men； and held that each generation
should newly house itself。 He preferred the perishability of the wooden
American house to the durability of the piles of brick or stone which in
Europe affected him as with some moral miasm from the succession of sires
and sons and grandsons that had died out of them。 But even of such
structures as these it is impressive how little the earth makes with the
passage of time。 Where once a great city of them stood； you shall find a
few tottering walls； scarcely more mindful of the past than 〃the cellar
and the well〃 which Holmes marked as the ultimate monuments； the last
witnesses； to the existence of our more transitory habitations。 It is
the law of the patient sun that everything under it shall decay； and if
by reason of some swift calamity； some fiery cataclysm； the perishable
shall be overtaken by a fate that fixes it in unwasting arrest； it cannot
be felt that the law has been set a