Some grieve that they cannot help with their own self-support. Howells says he is a great dreamer and forgets where he puts things, for example, his spectacles. H. D. Sedgwick[96] thinks Harvard seniors more disposed to answer questions than to ask them. Youth may be worth living, but is old age so? Young men know nothing of youth; they cannot realize it objectively, for they despise it and want to hurry on. The “kid” would be a Freshman. He feels at first just outside the door of something delectable. The boy does not enjoy himself so much as the old man looking on “for such is the kingdom of Heaven.” The young are individualists absorbed in self. They form cliques excluding hoi polloi. They over-praise their own college, but their ego is always the center. It is really the spectator in the theater that gets the most out of it. Youth is exclusive in its foolish divisions. The old do not dwell on differences but common qualities. The old man finds no solace in isolation but in community. He loves humanity; seeks a refuge for self; passes lightly over differences of speech, clothes, and customs. Perhaps this is due to the slow approach of night, which makes all draw together for the warmth of friendship. The old man snuggles to the breast of humanity and is less prone to lose himself in random interests. If he cannot get about in space, he turns to the essential truth of the universe. The gods do not know the words “great” or “small.” The old see wonders in the iris. Youth seeks the top of the mountains because it cannot see the wonders in what is common and what is right about. The old are more religious and less subject to emotional crises. They do not see God in the fire or smoke but can see Him in the commonplace, and find beauty in cloud, flower, and tree; while youth is too busy with its own emotions and their tyranny. The records of earth tell of bestial cruelty. The globe is cooling and youth resists it like Prometheus. To youth the energy of the world is inexplicable. All is the product of brute force. Out of the dust came the eye and the brain and the mind, and all the turmoil is like labor-pangs to produce love, beauty, and happiness. Everything is full of aspiration. Out of the universe will come God, who is slowly evolving from the material without. If the matter of life has produced the passions of humanity, it is charged with potential divinity.