WHAT WE MAY LEARN BY LOOKING OUT OF WINDOW

March 3d

A poet has said that life is the dream of a shadow: he would better have
compared it to a night of fever! What alternate fits of restlessness and
sleep! what discomfort! what sudden starts! what ever-returning thirst!
what a chaos of mournful and confused fancies! We can neither sleep nor
wake; we seek in vain for repose, and we stop short on the brink of
action. Two thirds of human existence are wasted in hesitation, and the
last third in repenting.

When I say human existence, I mean my own! We are so made that each of
us regards himself as the mirror of the community: what passes in our
minds infallibly seems to us a history of the universe. Every man is
like the drunkard who reports an earthquake, because he feels himself
staggering.

And why am I uncertain and restless--I, a poor day-laborer in the world--
who fill an obscure station in a corner of it, and whose work it avails
itself of, without heeding the workman? I will tell you, my unseen
friend, for whom these lines are written; my unknown brother, on whom the
solitary call in sorrow; my imaginary confidant, to whom all monologues
are addressed and who is but the shadow of our own conscience.

A great event has happened in my life! A crossroad has suddenly opened
in the middle of the monotonous way along which I was travelling quietly,
and without thinking of it. Two roads present themselves, and I must
choose between them. One is only the continuation of that I have
followed till now; the other is wider, and exhibits wondrous prospects.