[3] From the papers of Dr. Tonic, recently brought to light.
Give me ripe fruit with the green-- Fresh leaves mingling with the sear; As in tropic climes are seen Blending through the deathless year.
I am alarmed at the changes which are taking place in society. While many are lauding the _spirit of the age_ and holding up to my gaze the picture of forth-coming improvements--opening broad and charming vistas into the almost _present future_ of mental and moral perfection, I cannot help casting a lingering look upon the past. Time was when old age and infancy, manhood and youth, walked the path of life together; when the strength of young limbs aided the feebleness of the old, and the joyousness of youth enlivened the gravity of age. But the son has now left the father to totter on alone, and the daughter has outstripped the mother in the race. Beauty and strength have separated from decrepitude and weakness. The vine has uncoiled from its natural support, and the ivy has ceased to entwine the oak.
There is an increasing disposition on the part of the young and the old to classify their pleasures according to their age. Those pastimes which used to be enjoyed by both together, are now separated. This is an evil of too serious a character to pass unfelt, unlamented or unrebuked. It is easy to refer back to days when parents were more happy with their children, and children more honorable and useful to parents than at present. It is not long since the old and the young were to be seen together in the blithesome dance and the merry play. And why this change? Why do we find that, within a few years, the old have abandoned amusements to the young? Is it that they think their children can profit more by their amusements than if they were present? If this be the impression it is to be regretted. No course could they possibly adopt so injurious to the character of their children. For youth need the direction and the advice of age, and age requires the exhilaration and cheerfulness of youth. How many lonely evenings would be enlivened--how many dark visions of the future would be dissipated, and how many hours of gloom and despondency would be put to flight, if fathers would keep pace with their sons, and mothers with their daughters, in the innocent pleasures of life. Here, as it appears to me, is the grand secret of happiness for the young and the old. For the old, who are too apt to dwell on the glories of the past and to see nothing that is lovely in the present; and for the young, who throw too strong and gaudy a light upon the present and the future. Nature did not so intend it. So long as there is life, she intended we should innocently enjoy it. And the barrier which has, by some unaccountable mishap, been thrown between the young and the old is, therefore, greatly to be lamented. But how shall it be removed? How shall we get back again to the good old times of the merry husking, the joyous dance, the happy commingling in the same company, of the priest and his deacon, the father and his child, the husband and his wife?