Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/163

 there, smiles when he sees it frowning and bursts into loud laughter whenever it indulges in a fit of offended wrath. The principle of its life is to enjoy life. To enjoy it as much, as widely, as long as possible. That is why not even old age is to be a hindrance to enjoyment. It wears no beard in which time would so gladly weave its white autumn threads, and in order to escape time's revenge on its tresses, it powders them or replaces them by a wig. Old age forced this fashion upon youth as well, so as to be able to have equal rights with it and to keep pace with it. Besides this, old age makes use of money; old age possesses it, possesses also titles, houses and castles,—everything only for the purpose of being able to enjoy. But the voice of nature does not let itself be silenced; wherever youth is, it is drawn towards the wit of youth, even though it be needy, in debt and without titles. And hoodwinked old age fumes and threatens, but finally submits to the exigencies of the situation; then it assuredly would at once turn aside and search for somewhere else to be able to enjoy itself with better success. And that is life, that is the world. A kingly majesty reigns supreme over it all like a distant, inaccessible sun; only now and then does its ray fall like a deus ex machina, in order to shed warmth upon the numbness of some situation.

In this locality Molière produced a somewhat grotesque effect upon me,—he ought to be read somewhere in a park under the light of noon, in a park where there are artificial ponds and fountains, where statues glimmer in the green dusk, and the stone benches are only just big enough for two people to sit upon.

When I have finished reading this, l shall send for Shakespeare, the revealer of human souls, the stern judge of judges and kings, the creator and destroyer, the poet of poets. I used to think once that if I were cast away like Robinson Crusoe on a desert island