Wherever you are, and whoever you maybe, there is one thing in which you and I are just alike at this moment, and in all the moments of our existence. We are not at rest; we are on a journey, our life is a movement, a tendency, a steady, ceaseless progress towards an unseen goal. We are gaining something, or losing something, everyday. Even when our position and our character seem to remain precisely the same, they are changing. For the mere advance of time is a change. It is not the same thing to have a bare field in January and in July, the season makes the difference. The limitations that are childlike in the child are childish in the man.