only be accomplished by placing our inquiry before us as itself a phenomenon of Time, and indeed of that Age in which it has occurred, namely,—the Present.
But however indispensable it is, in every mental occupation, that we should not lose sight of ourselves, it is yet most difficult to do this, particularly to do it aloud; that is, to speak of ourselves. Not indeed that I should find any serious difficulty in speaking of me, the particular individual who now addresses you. In the Introductory Lecture, when I first sought to combine and establish this audience, I spoke without hesitation of myself, what I believe no one has ever taken amiss, and what I do not regret having spoken; but now, at the conclusion of my task, I know not how to utter one word respecting myself which shall be worthy of utterance. The question is not of me; it is not I who have desired to think and to inquire:—had my thought or inquiry been a matter of any moment, I could have accomplished that without saying aught to any one on the subject; but from such self-contemplation no result for the world could ensue; for what the Individual thinks, or does not think, constitutes no event for his Age;—but it is We, as one company devoted to this purpose, and borne on to unity of thought in absolute forgetfulness of our own individual persons, (as we have often before given outward manifestation of this unity of thought, and do so now)—it is We who have desired to think and to inquire;—and it is to this we, and by no means to myself, that I refer when I speak of this mental retrospect of ourselves, and of the difficulty of accomplishing it aloud and in public speech. So much in that case strives for utterance which each of us would more fitly think for himself, that an incautious man might be misled into touching upon subjects which modesty would rather leave untouched, and into urging upon the attention considerations which are offensive to the cultivated mind,—not on their own account, but because they are spoken on the suppo-
