I thought I also would be my own natural, simple self. But then the
question arose--What was my own natural, simple self?

That was the preliminary problem I had to solve; I have not solved
it to this day. What am I? I am a great gentleman, walking through
the world with dauntless heart and head erect, scornful of all
meanness, impatient of all littleness. I am a mean-thinking,
little-daring man--the type of man that I of the dauntless heart and
the erect head despise greatly--crawling to a poor end by devious
ways, cringing to the strong, timid of all pain. I--but, dear
reader, I will not sadden your sensitive ears with details I could
give you, showing how contemptible a creature this wretched I
happens to be. Nor would you understand me. You would only be
astonished, discovering that such disreputable specimens of humanity
contrive to exist in this age. It is best, my dear sir, or madam,
you should remain ignorant of these evil persons. Let me not
trouble you with knowledge.

I am a philosopher, greeting alike the thunder and the sunshine with
frolic welcome. Only now and then, when all things do not fall
exactly as I wish them, when foolish, wicked people will persist in
doing foolish, wicked acts, affecting my comfort and happiness, I
rage and fret a goodish deal.

As Heine said of himself, I am knight, too, of the Holy Grail,
valiant for the Truth, reverent of all women, honouring all men,
eager to yield life to the service of my great Captain.

And next moment, I find myself in the enemy's lines, fighting under
the black banner. (It must be confusing to these opposing Generals,