The meadow flowers spring and bloom where the
waters annually deposit their slime, not where they reach in some
freshet only. A man is not his hope, nor his despair, nor yet
his past deed. We know not yet what we have done, still less
what we are doing. Wait till evening, and other parts of our
day's work will shine than we had thought at noon, and we shall
discover the real purport of our toil. As when the farmer has
reached the end of the furrow and looks back, he can tell best
where the pressed earth shines most.
To one who habitually endeavors to contemplate the true state
of things, the political state can hardly be said to have any
existence whatever. It is unreal, incredible, and insignificant
to him, and for him to endeavor to extract the truth from such
lean material is like making sugar from linen rags, when
sugar-cane may be had. Generally speaking, the political news,
whether domestic or foreign, might be written to-day for the next
ten years, with sufficient accuracy. Most revolutions in society
have not power to interest, still less alarm us; but tell me that
our rivers are drying up, or the genus pine dying out in the
country, and I might attend.
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