This section is from the book "Masters Of Old Age: The Value of Longevity Illustrated by Practical Examples", by Colonel Nicholas Smith. Also available from Amazon: Masters of Old Age: The Value of Longevity Illustrated by Practical Examples.
The value of old men in public affairs is seen in the career of the late Justin S. Morrill of Vermont, who rendered an unbroken service in the Congress of the United States of forty-four years lacking only a few months. In point of continuous tenure of office he surpassed the record of any other member of either branch of that body since the foundation of the Government. There was no time in those forty-four years that the people of Vermont thought for a moment that the Senator could be spared.
It will surprise some people to read that when Mr. Morrill was eighty-eight years old, he rose in his seat in the United States Senate, and, with old-time vigor and clearness of intellect, led in the debate on the question of the annexation of Hawaii! Up to the month of his death - December, 1898 - his interest in the affairs of his State and the Nation did not abate in the least. It is said of him that he never missed a roll call in the Senate, and that he made fewer mistakes than any other man in public life.
As a rule, people are apt to forget that a man's value to the community should be measured by his capacity to perform honest service, and not by the number of his years. The oldest trade unionist in the United States is John McDonald of Bethel, Connecticut. He is ninety-eight years old, and the Hatmaker's Union, of which he is a member, has intrusted him with the treasurership of the Union for forty years. At the time I am writing, Mr. McDonald is active and cheery, and attends to the duties of his office with businesslike regularity. He does not make a parade of his age, but goes about his daily task with an aptitude that puzzles those who cannot understand the philosophy of growing old naturally.
In 1897 the Chicago Tribune published an account of a minister who had preached the gospel faithfully for more than forty years, and against his will was retired. He had become gray in the service of the Church. His form was somewhat bent, but his voice still rang out in true tones. However, the younger members of the parish thought him old-fashioned, and he was forced to vacate the pulpit.
In law and medicine, the man of gray hair and ripe experience is greatly honored, but not so in regard to ministers in a large majority of churches. This deposed minister did not share the feeling of the Psalmist when he sang: "Oh, that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest." The old veteran nerved himself for the battle and the burden of the day. Although he was seventy-two years old, he began the study of medicine, and upon his graduation opened an office and practised with success for several years. He "died in the harness." An account of his life says that he prescribed for his patients up to the very day he passed away.
It is regrettable that The Tribune did not reveal the doctor's identity. His name should be put in bold type with other true gentlemen who are masters of their years, and who do not devitalize themselves by self-pity when misfortune overtakes them.
There is a gentleman living in Lincoln, Illinois, James P. Hyde by name, who passed the "dead line of fifty" over forty years ago, and yet cannot be spared. He has held various offices of trust, such as City Treasurer, City Controller, Deputy City Collector, and expert bookkeeper for three business houses in Lincoln. Mr. Hyde is ninety-one years old and has not missed a day's work in years, save when he has taken a vacation of two weeks in summer. One thing has done much to increase his longevity - he never worries. He is always at peace with himself. That he is rapidly taking on extreme old age gives him no concern.
The instances are exceedingly large in number which show that age does not disqualify a person from practical service of some kind. The Second Baptist Church of Chicago can ill afford in this year of 1904, to part with the services of "Aunt Lizzie" Aiken, who has filled the office of Church visitor for forty years. She is one of the noble women of the Civil War, whose heroism and self-sacrifice gave her wide fame and commanded the gratitude of the Nation. She was a hospital nurse of special ability, and it is said that the number of soldiers to whom Miss Aiken had read passages from the Bible, with whom she had prayed, and whose eyes she had closed when life expired, exceeded three thousand. Since the war she has been visitor to those who need the aid of the Church, and the love and practical sympathy of consecrated womanhood. Up to the time she was eighty-four years old her visitations were constant. People of all classes and conditions have been comforted and strengthened by her kindly offices.
"Aunt Lizzie" is now eighty-seven, and during the past three or four years she has been much confined to her home, still her life is full of sunshine, and has a gracious influence upon all who call upon her.
A person cannot become "master of his fate," nor "captain of his soul," until he learns the art of taking care of his mind and body. Men and women who have won great victories despite of old age or physical infirmities, have held a tight grip on the nervous life as well as holding mastery over their thoughts. By these means they achieve what might seem impossibilities to those who care but little about mental culture or physical development.
I was reading the other day of Hardinge Stanley Giffard, first Earl of Halsbury, who is now the oldest member of the British Cabinet. He is eighty-one years old, and, by a thorough study of the laws of health, he is able to do a vast amount of hard work. It is said that he goes to Westminster in his capacity of first judge of the realm at ten o'clock in the morning and remains there until four in the afternoon, hearing appeals. This would seem to be a sufficient day's work for a judge of fourscore years. But Lord Halsbury takes his place, a few minutes later as speaker of the House of Lords and remains there until that body adjourns, which many times is not till the early morning of the following day.
A good example of how to live and how to serve in old age is found in one of "God's veterans" - Archbishop John J. Williams of Boston, who has become the dean of the Catholic hierarchy of the United States since the recent death of Archbishop Elder of Cincinnati. The Archbishop is eighty-three years old, but he is active, clear-headed, and performs an enormous amount of labor connected with the vast details incident to the arch-diocesan office. He meets every day's task with the same composure, cheerfulness, and zeal that were characteristic of him twenty years ago. The saying that "a man is no older than he feels," is exemplified in Archbishop Williams' life. He has studied how to live so as to make advanced years an honor and work a pleasure.
It seems that Columbian College, Washings ton, could not well dispense with the services of Adoniram J. Huntington, who was Professor of Latin and Greek in that institution at three different periods, beginning in 1843 and ending in 1900. He was active as a professor until he was eighty-two years old, and now, at eighty-six, is emeritus professor of Greek. He is still a student, and frequently delivers sermons in the Baptist Church to which he belongs.
Former Governor Francis R. Lubbock of Texas, has passed his eighty-ninth year, but is still in harness. He not only takes an interest in State affairs, but at the age of eighty-five, he brought out his Six Decades in Texas, a publication of unusual interest and value to the State in which he has lived for sixty-eight years.
Mrs. Adeline D. T. Whitney, although she has passed her eightieth year, has not lost her hold on the reading public, and her twenty-seventh volume has just been issued from the press. Its title is Biddy's Episodes, and the fact that it is sweet-spirited, bright, wholesome, interesting, is proof that she is now just as able to help and attract her readers as when she wrote her charming story, Faith Gartney's Girlhood, thirty years ago.
In The Cosmopolitan for May, 1905, is an article on "The Philosophy of Staying in Har ness," by James Hulme Canfield, LL.D., Librarian of Columbia University, New York, and from it I will take two refreshing paragraphs, which must close this chapter:
But the harness which enables one to pull his full share of life's load, to render his full share of service, should never be taken off - can never be laid aside while any measure of desire and ability to satisfy desire remains. All this talk of "stepping out and giving the young men a chance" is supremest folly. The young men never have "a chance" equal to the opportunity of working side by side with those rich in experience, in that wisdom which comes from practical trial. Volunteers under fire are steadied by veterans, and a shrewd man always drives colts with older horses. Counsel and action, wisdom and energy, age and youth, mixed in proper proportions, secure the finest results.
Men who have grown selfish and narrow and stubborn and hard, and are obstacles in the path of all progress, may not be quoted to the contrary of this general contention, since these are abnormal - are excrescences rather than a part of natural growth, and should be dealt with as such. But the rule should be and is that men grow sweeter as they ripen, larger with increase of days, and constantly of more value to themselves and to the world - and to themselves because to the world. This value should not be lessened and this service should not be minimized by any short-sighted, foolish sentiment about "giving place to others." The world has a crying need of all men, with all their faculties and powers most wisely and intelligently and unselfishly and effectively active, through all possible length of days. There can be no overproduction in this direction. Any other than the most complete and long continued development of the whole man, and of every man, weakens and impoverishes all men.
 
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