at least stating as capable of positive proof--the connection of all
that is best in the crafts and arts of man, with the simplicity of
his faith, and the sincerity of his patriotism.

But I speak to you under another disadvantage, by which I am checked
in frankness of utterance, not here only, but everywhere: namely,
that I am never fully aware how far my audiences are disposed to
give me credit for real knowledge of my subject, or how far they
grant me attention only because I have been sometimes thought an
ingenious or pleasant essayist upon it. For I have had what, in
many respects, I boldly call the misfortune, to set my words
sometimes prettily together; not without a foolish vanity in the
poor knack that I had of doing so: until I was heavily punished for
this pride, by finding that many people thought of the words only,
and cared nothing for their meaning. Happily, therefore, the power
of using such pleasant language--if indeed it ever were mine--is
passing away from me; and whatever I am now able to say at all, I
find myself forced to say with great plainness. For my thoughts
have changed also, as my words have; and whereas in earlier life,
what little influence I obtained was due perhaps chiefly to the
enthusiasm with which I was able to dwell on the beauty of the
physical clouds, and of their colours in the sky; so all the
influence I now desire to retain must be due to the earnestness with
which I am endeavouring to trace the form and beauty of another kind
of cloud than those; the bright cloud of which it is written--"What
is your life? It is even as a vapour that appeareth for a little
time, and then vanisheth away."

I suppose few people reach the middle or latter period of their age,
without having, at some moment of change or disappointment, felt the