Men of eighty—I speak with less certainty of women—are. of
course, about in the prime of life nowadays. Here is Lord Samuel, born in 1870, being given a dinner this week in belated honour of his eightieth birthday. Here is Mr. Seebohm Rown- tree, born in 1871. given a lunch last week to celebrate the im- pending publication not of one iDut of two new books from his pen, the first a scientific enquity into the use of leisure, the second a new version of his classic, Poverty, A Study of Town Life, an examination of conditions in his native town of York. And here is Mr. J. W. Robertson Scott, the late editor of The Countryman, born in 1866, just launching on the world a further instalment, but by no means the last, of his journalistic reminiscences, under the title The Day Before Yesterday. Finally, the miraculous Mr. Theodore Taylor, of Batley. born in 1850, is still. I have every reason to believe, producing admir- able woollen goods and preaching co-partnership with the same vigour as when he was fifty. If persons like myself display the same durability it will cost the State a lot of money to support us before we finish.
Previous page
