There are, of course, Americans who have not yet heard that anything is
going on. The circus might come to town, have the big parade and go,
without their catching a sight of the camels or a note of the calliope.
There are people, even Americans, who never move themselves or know that
anything else is moving.

A friend of mine who had heard of the Florida "cracker," as they call a
certain ne'er-do-weel portion of the population down there, when passing
through the State in a train, asked some one to point out a "cracker" to
him. The man asked replied, "Well, if you see something off in the woods
that looks brown, like a stump, you will know it is either a stump or a
cracker; if it moves, it is a stump."

Now, movement has no virtue in itself. Change is not worth while for its
own sake. I am not one of those who love variety for its own sake. If a
thing is good to-day, I should like to have it stay that way to-morrow.
Most of our calculations in life are dependent upon things staying the way
they are. For example, if, when you got up this morning, you had forgotten
how to dress, if you had forgotten all about those ordinary things which
you do almost automatically, which you can almost do half awake, you would
have to find out what you did yesterday. I am told by the psychologists
that if I did not remember who I was yesterday, I should not know who I am
to-day, and that, therefore, my very identity depends upon my being able
to tally to-day with yesterday. If they do not tally, then I am confused;
I do not know who I am, and I have to go around and ask somebody to tell
me my name and where I came from.

I am not one of those who wish to break connection with the past; I am
not one of those who wish to change for the mere sake of variety. The only
men who do that are the men who want to forget something, the men who