thirty days, make a sacrifice to God. For the habit at first begins to be
weakened, and then is completely destroyed. When you can say, 'I have not
been vexed to-day, nor the day before, nor yet on any succeeding day
during two or three months; but I took care when some exciting things
happened,' be assured that you are in a good way." [7]

Emerson closes his _Conduct of Life_ with a striking allegory. The young
Mortal enters the Hall of the Firmament. The Gods are sitting there, and
he is alone with them. They pour on him gifts and blessings, and beckon
him to their thrones. But between him and them suddenly appear snow-storms
of illusions. He imagines himself in a vast crowd, whose behests he
fancies he must obey. The mad crowd drives hither and thither, and sways
this way and that. What is he that he should resist? He lets himself be
carried about. How can he think or act for himself? But the clouds lift,
and there are the Gods still sitting on their thrones; they alone with him
alone.

"The great man," he elsewhere says, "is he who in the midst of the crowd
keeps with perfect sweetness the serenity of solitude."

We may all, if we will, secure peace of mind for ourselves.

"Men seek retreats," says Marcus Aurelius, "houses in the country,
seashores, and mountains; and thou too art wont to desire such things very
much. But this is altogether a mark of the most common sort of men; for it
is in thy power whenever thou shalt choose, to retire into thyself. For
nowhere either with more quiet or more freedom from trouble does a man
retire, than into his own soul, particularly when he has within him such
thoughts that by looking into them he is immediately in perfect
tranquillity."