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and a wreck, upon the fields of the Atlantic.
What are we, the inhabitants of this globe, least among the many that
people infinite space? Our minds embrace infinity; the visible mechanism of
our being is subject to merest accident. Day by day we are forced to
believe this. He whom a scratch has disorganized, he who disappears from
apparent life under the influence of the hostile agency at work around us,
had the same powers as I--I also am subject to the same laws. In the face
of all this we call ourselves lords of the creation, wielders of the
elements, masters of life and death, and we allege in excuse of this
arrogance, that though the individual is destroyed, man continues for
ever.
Thus, losing our identity, that of which we are chiefly conscious, we glory
in the continuity of our species, and learn to regard death without terror.
But when any whole nation becomes the victim of the destructive powers of
exterior agents, then indeed man shrinks into insignificance, he feels his
tenure of life insecure, his inheritance on earth cut off.
I remember, after having witnessed the destructive effects of a fire, I
could not even behold a small one in a stove, without a sensation of fear.
The mounting flames had curled round the building, as it fell, and was
destroyed. They insinuated themselves into the substances about them, and
the impediments to their progress yielded at their touch. Could we take
integral parts of this power, and not be subject to its operation? Could we
domesticate a cub of this wild beast, and not fear its growth and
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