_Discharged! No pay! because of my white hair?_
Quite true, my friend. The War-God’s servants must be in the prime of
manly vigour. Their business is with
_War and war’s baleful work_,
in which, though an old man’s grey hair may be hidden by his [Sidenote:
D] helmet,
_Yet in secret his thews are aweary_,
and, though the spirit be willing, the strength can no longer respond.
But the ministers of Zeus—the God of Council, of Assembly, of the
State—are not asked for deeds of hand and foot, but for counsel and
foresight. We ask them for advice, not such as to evoke roars of mere
noise in the Assembly, but full of sense and shrewdness, and safe to
follow. In their case the despised white hair and wrinkles become the
visible tokens of experience. They suggest moral force, and are
therefore a help to persuasion. [Sidenote: E] It is the part of youth to
obey; of old age to guide; and that state is safest where
_Best are the old men’s counsels,
And best the young man’s spear._