CONCLUSION. 
355 
not one of my readers who has yet lived a whole hu¬ 
man life. These may be but the spring months in the 
life of the race. If we have had the seven-years’ itch, 
we have not seen the seventeen-year locust yet in Con¬ 
cord. We are acquainted with a mere pellicle of the 
globe on which we live. Most have not delved six feet 
beneath the surface, nor leaped as many above it. We 
know not where we are. Beside, we are sound asleep 
nearly half our time. Yet we esteem ourselves wise, 
and have an established order on the surface. Truly, 
we are deep thinkers, we are ambitious spirits ! As I 
stand over the insect crawling amid the pine needles on 
the forest floor, and endeavoring to conceal itself from 
my sight, and ask myself why it will cherish those hum¬ 
ble thoughts, and hide its head from me who might, 
perhaps, be its benefactor, and impart to its race some 
cheering information, I am reminded of the greater 
Benefactor and Intelligence that stands over me the 
human insect. * 
There is an incessant influx of novelty into the world, 
and yet we tolerate incredible dulness. I need only 
suggest what kind of sermons are still listened to in the 
most enlightened countries. There are such words as 
joy and sorrow, but they are only the burden of a psalm, 
sung with a nasal twang, while we believe in the ordi¬ 
nary and mean. We think that we can change our 
clothes only. It is said that the British Empire is 
very large and respectable, and that the United States 
are a first-rate power. We do not believe that a tide 
rises and falls behind every man which can float the 
British Empire like a chip, if he should ever harbor it 
in his mind. Who knows what sort of seventeen-year 
