t you are not like one of them. I have been more
than once intoxicated, my passions have always bordered on extravagance:
I am not ashamed to confess it; for I have learned, by my own
experience, that all extraordinary men, who have accomplished great and
astonishing actions, have ever been decried by the world as drunken or
insane. And in private life, too, is it not intolerable that no one can
undertake the execution of a noble or generous deed, without giving rise
to the exclamation that the doer is intoxicated or mad? Shame upon you,
ye sages!"

"This is another of your extravagant humours," said Albert: "you always
exaggerate a case, and in this matter you are undoubtedly wrong; for we
were speaking of suicide, which you compare with great actions, when it
is impossible to regard it as anything but a weakness. It is much easier
to die than to bear a life of misery with fortitude."

I was on the point of breaking off the conversation, for nothing puts me
so completely out of patience as the utterance of a wretched commonplace
when I am talking from my inmost heart. However, I composed myself, for
I had often heard the same observation with sufficient vexation; and
I answered him, therefore, with a little warmth, "You call this a
weakness--beware of being led astray by appearances. When a nation,
which has long groaned under the intolerable yoke of a tyrant, rises at
last and throws off its chains, do you call that weakness? The man
who, to rescue his house from the flames, finds his physical strength
redoubled, so that he lifts burdens with ease, which, in the absence of
excitement, he could scarcely move; he who, under the rage of an insult,
attacks and puts to flight half a score of his enemies, are such persons
to be called weak? My good friend, if resistance be strength, how can
the highest degree of resistance be a weakness?"

Albert looked steadfastly at me, and said, "Pray forgive me, but I do
not see that the examples you have adduced bear any relation to the
question." "Very likely," I answered; "for I have often been told that
my style of illustration borders a little on the absurd. But let us see
if we cannot place the matter in another point of view, by inquiring
what can be a man's state of mind who resolves to free himself from
the burden of life,--a burden often so pleasant to bear,--for we cannot
otherwise reason fairly upon the subject.

"Human nature," I continued, "has its limits. It is able to