492
South-leeward.—A: I am a puzzle to myself! Only yesterday my feelings were so wild and yet so warm, so sunny—and exceedingly bright! And to-day! Every- thing is calm, wide, mournful, dark, like the lagoon of Venice. I have no wish, and draw a deep breath. and yet my heart revolts against this ‘‘not wishing for anything ’’—so the billows fluctuate in the ocean of my sadness.—B: You describe a slight, agreeable complaint. The next blast from the North-East will blow it away !—A: Why?
493
On our own tree.—No thinker’s thoughts give me so much delight as my own: which, certainly, is no argument in favour of their value, but I should be a fool to disregard fruits which are most tasteful to me because they accidentally grow on my own tree! And once I was such a fool. Others experience the contrary: which also is no argument in favour of the value of their thoughts and certainly no argument against their value.
494
Last argument of the brave.—There are snakes in this grove.—Very well, I shall go into the thicket and kill them.—But, in so doing, you run the risk of falling their victim, and they will not even be yours.—Never mind me!
