I confess
that I flattered myself a long time to have had you both with me.
that I flattered myself a long time to have had you both with me.
Petrarch
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. In this sweet retreat I feel no want but that of my
ancient friends. In these I was once rich; but death has taken away some
of them, and absence robs me of the remainder. Though my imagination
represents them, still I am not the less desirous of their real
presence. There would remain but few things for me to desire, if fortune
would restore to me but two friends, such as you and Socrates.
I confess
that I flattered myself a long time to have had you both with me. But,
if you persist in your rigour, I must console myself with the company of
my religionists. Their conversation, it is true, is neither witty nor
profound, but it is simple and pious. Those good priests will be of
great service to me both in life and death. I think I have now said
enough about myself, and, perhaps, more than enough. You ask me about
the state of my fortune, and you wish to know whether you may believe
the rumours that are abroad about my riches. It is true that my income
is increased; but so, also, proportionably, is my outlay. I am, as I
have always been, neither rich nor poor. Riches, they say, make men poor
by multiplying their wants and desires; for my part, I feel the
contrary; the more I have the less I desire. Yet, I suppose, if I
possessed great riches, they would have the same effect upon me as upon
other people.
"You ask news about my son. I know not very well what to say concerning
him. His manners are gentle, and the flower of his youth holds out a
promise, though what fruit it may produce I know not. I think I may
flatter myself that he will be an honest man. He has talent; but what
avails talent without study! He flies from a book as he would from a
serpent.
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. In this sweet retreat I feel no want but that of my
ancient friends. In these I was once rich; but death has taken away some
of them, and absence robs me of the remainder. Though my imagination
represents them, still I am not the less desirous of their real
presence. There would remain but few things for me to desire, if fortune
would restore to me but two friends, such as you and Socrates.
I confess
that I flattered myself a long time to have had you both with me. But,
if you persist in your rigour, I must console myself with the company of
my religionists. Their conversation, it is true, is neither witty nor
profound, but it is simple and pious. Those good priests will be of
great service to me both in life and death. I think I have now said
enough about myself, and, perhaps, more than enough. You ask me about
the state of my fortune, and you wish to know whether you may believe
the rumours that are abroad about my riches. It is true that my income
is increased; but so, also, proportionably, is my outlay. I am, as I
have always been, neither rich nor poor. Riches, they say, make men poor
by multiplying their wants and desires; for my part, I feel the
contrary; the more I have the less I desire. Yet, I suppose, if I
possessed great riches, they would have the same effect upon me as upon
other people.
"You ask news about my son. I know not very well what to say concerning
him. His manners are gentle, and the flower of his youth holds out a
promise, though what fruit it may produce I know not. I think I may
flatter myself that he will be an honest man. He has talent; but what
avails talent without study! He flies from a book as he would from a
serpent.
