Faith is the plank which saves them. They know the
meaning of the higher life; their soul is athirst for heaven. Their
opinions are defective, but their moral experience is great; their
intellect is full of darkness but their souls is full of light. We
scarcely know how to talk to them about the things of earth, but they
are ripe and mature in the things of the heart. If they cannot
understand us, it is for us to make advances to them, to speak their
language, to enter into their range of ideas, their modes of feeling. We
must approach them on their noble side, and, that we may show them the
more respect, induce them to open to us the casket of their most
treasured thoughts. There is always some grain of gold at the bottom of
every honorable old age. Let it be our business to give it an
opportunity of showing itself to affectionate eyes.
May 10, 1878.--I have just come back from a solitary walk. I heard
nightingales, saw white lilac and orchard trees in bloom. My heart is
full of impressions showered upon it by the chaffinches, the golden
orioles, the grasshoppers, the hawthorns, and the primroses. A dull,
gray, fleecy sky brooded with a certain melancholy over the nuptial
splendors of vegetation. Many painful memories stirred afresh in me; at
Pre l'Eveque, at Jargonnant, at Villereuse, a score of phantoms
--phantoms of youth--rose with sad eyes to greet me.
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