Page:Dawn of the Day.pdf/374

338 —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? —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. —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!