Chapter 117 Conclusion - 6

How long are we going to be sitting in hallways practicing these boring stereotypes that make any job ridiculous?It’s like a person who wants to practice penance every morning, and hires someone to plant potatoes for him; in the afternoon, he goes out with a preconceived kindness to practice Christian tenderness and love!Just think of China's arrogance and that stagnant complacency of human beings.This generation congratulates itself on being the last of a glorious tradition; and in Boston, London, Paris, Rome, thinking how old they are, they still say with pride how advanced their literature, art, and science are.Some are the records of the Philosophical Society, and the public praise articles for great men!Good Adam, boasting of his own virtues. "Yes, we have done great deeds, and sung holy songs, and they are immortal," - so long as we can remember them, naturally immortal Lo.But the learned societies of ancient Assyria and their great men,--where are they now?What young philosophers and experimenters we are!Not one of my readers has lived a whole life.These may just be the few months of the human spring.Even if we had the mange which took seven years to heal, we did not see the locust plague which Concord suffered for sixteen years.We only know a thin film of the planet we live on.Most people haven't dived six feet or jumped more than six feet.We don't know where.Besides, almost half of the time, we are asleep.But we think we are smart, we think we have established order on the earth.Indeed, we are deep thinkers, and we are men of ambition!I stood in the forest and saw an insect crawling among the pine needles on the forest floor. I saw it trying to avoid my sight and hide by itself. I asked myself why it had such a humble attitude. Thought, to hide its head from me, and I, perhaps, to help it, to give it some good news for its kind, I cannot help thinking of our greater benefactor, the wise one, who also Looking down on those of us who are like insects.

Novelties are being poured into the world endlessly, and we suffer from unbelievable stupidity.I will suffice to mention what kind of sermons we still hear in the most enlightened countries.There are still words like joy and sorrow, but these are just refrains of a hymn sung in a nasal voice, and what we actually believe in is commonplace and base.We thought we'd just have to change clothes.It is said that the British Empire is very large and respectable, while the United States of America is a first-class power.We don't know that behind every man there is a tide that rises and falls, and that tide could float the British Empire like a splinter, if he had the will to remember that.Who knows what kind of 17-year locust plague will happen next time?The governments of the world in which I live are not established, like the British government, after a dinner party, over good wine and talk.

The life in our body is like the water in a river.It may rise this year, as high as ever, and flood the scorched heights; and even such a year may be eventful, drowning all our muskrats.Where we live doesn't always have to be dry land.I saw far away, inland, banks which had been swept by the river long before science recorded their flooding.You have all heard the New England tale of a strong and beautiful reptile which emerged from the dry trap of an old applewood table which stood in the middle of a farmer's kitchen. It's been sixty years, first in Connecticut, then in Massachusetts, and the egg was laid a few years earlier than sixty years ago, when the apple tree was still alive, because that's what it is Judging by the growth rings on the outside; for several weeks, I have heard it biting inside, and it probably hatched from the heat of a bowl head.Who would not feel strengthened in resurrection faith and in immortality after hearing such a story?The egg has been buried for generations among several layers of wood surrounded by circles, in the midst of the dull social life, at first among the green, living white wood, and then the thing has gradually become a dry place. a well-groomed grave—perhaps it has been biting for years, to the dismay of the family sitting at this feasting table—who knows how beautiful, winged life suddenly I jumped out of the most worthless furniture in the society and was given away by others, and finally enjoyed its perfect summer of life!

I don't mean that ordinary people like Johann or Jonathan can understand all this; but there is something about that tomorrow in which the dawn never comes despite the passing of time.The light that blinds us is darkness to us.Only the day when we woke up with our eyes open, did the day light up.There are many bright days.The sun is but a morning star.