•STRAIGHT- WINGED INSECTS. 163 



Iieart most deeply, was in a little country village, in 

 which there was no band of music, no firing of guns, 

 no soldiery, no parade, but at the entrance of which, 

 the inhabitants met him with uncovered heads and 

 waving handkerchiefs, as he passed under the arch they 

 had erected over the road, and which bore this inscrip- 

 tion. 



"Come then, Expressive Silence, muse his praise !" 



And so it is not the mind of man, generally ; any- 

 thing that excites the powerful impression of awe or 

 amazement, on the yet more touching and inexpressi- 

 ble feelings of the heart, produces a profound and 

 speechless silence. Lovers and friends, old men and 

 little children, sit silently together for hours looking 

 &t each other, in rapt admiration, their souls mingling 

 and blending together, conversing telegraphically with 

 each other in tones that human tongues cannot utter, 

 because only human words can dwell on human lips, 

 but the spirit sits above the tongue and has its own 

 peculiar language, which it alone knows how to ex- 

 press. Something of this effect seems to be produced 

 hy the chirping of the domestic cricket. People, whom 

 the world call brainless, those who cannot claim a spark 

 of romance, or poetry, as well as those in whom the in- 

 tellectual fire burns brightest, seem very generally to 

 be calmed into silent, pensive, meditative thought by 

 the mere sound of this little insect rubbing its wino-s 



