No More Learning

"The course of my life," he says, "has always been
uniform ever since the frost of age has quenched the ardour of my youth,
and particularly that fatal flame which so long tormented me. But what
do I say? " he continues; "it is a celestial dew which has produced this
extinction. Though I have often changed my place of abode, I have always
led nearly the same kind of life. What it is, none knows better than
yourself. I once lived beside you for two years. Call to mind how I was
then occupied, and you will know my present occupations. You understand
me so well that you ought to be able to guess, not only what I am doing,
but what I am dreaming.

"Like a traveller, I am quickening my steps in proportion as I approach
the term of my course. I read and write night and day; the one
occupation refreshes me from the fatigue of the other These are my
employments--these are my pleasures. My tasks increase upon my hands;
one begets another; and I am dismayed when I look at what I have
undertaken to accomplish in so short a space as the remainder of my
life. * * * My health is good; my body is so robust that neither ripe
years, nor grave occupations, nor abstinence, nor penance, can totally
subdue that _kicking ass_ on whom I am constantly making war. I count
upon the grace of Heaven, without which I should infallibly fall, as I
fell in other times. All my reliance is on Christ. With regard to my
fortune, I am exactly in a just mediocrity, equally distant from the two
extremes * * * *

"I inhabit a retired corner of the city towards the west.
Their ancient
devotion attracts the people every Sunday to the church of St. Ambrosio,
near which I dwell. During the rest of the week, this quarter is a
desert.

"Fortune has changed nothing in my nourishment, or my hours of sleep,
except that I retrench as much as possible from indulgence in either. I
lie in bed for no other purpose than to sleep, unless I am ill. I hasten
from bed as soon as I am awake, and pass into my library. This takes
place about the middle of the night, save when the nights are shortest.
I grant to Nature nothing but what she imperatively demands, and which
it is impossible to refuse her.

"Though I have always loved solitude and silence, I am a great gossip
with my friends, which arises, perhaps, from my seeing them but rarely.
I atone for this loquacity by a year of taciturnity. I mutely recall my
parted friends by correspondence. I resemble that class of people of
whom Seneca speaks, who seize life in detail, and not by the gross. The
moment I feel the approach of summer, I take a country-house a league
distant from town, where the air is extremely pure. In such a place I am
at present, and here I lead my wonted life, more free than ever from the
wearisomeness of the city. I have abundance of everything; the peasants
vie with each other in bringing me fruit, fish, ducks, and all sorts of
game. There is a beautiful Carthusian monastery in my neighbourhood,
where, at all hours of the day, I find the innocent pleasures which
religion offers.