's were once a hope to me; later, they made me shake
my head incredulously; now I smile to think how true they have proved in
my own case. But what, exactly, do they mean? Are they merely an
expression of the optimistic spirit? If so, optimism has to content
itself with rather doubtful generalities. Can it truly be said that most
men find the wishes of their youth satisfied in later life? Ten years
ago, I should have utterly denied it, and could have brought what seemed
to me abundant evidence in its disproof. And as regards myself, is it
not by mere happy accident that I pass my latter years in such enjoyment
of all I most desired? Accident--but there is no such thing. I might
just as well have called it an accident had I succeeded in earning the
money on which now I live.

From the beginning of my manhood, it is true, I longed for bookish
leisure; that, assuredly, is seldom even one of the desires in a young
man's heart, but perhaps it is one of those which may most reasonably
look for gratification later on. What, however, of the multitudes who
aim only at wealth, for the power and the pride and the material
pleasures which it represents? We know very well that few indeed are
successful in that aim; and, missing it, do they not miss everything? For
them, are not Goethe's words mere mockery?

Apply them to mankind at large, and perhaps, after all, they are true.
The fact of national prosperity and contentment implies, necessarily, the
prosperity and contentment of the greater number of the individuals of
which the nation consists. In other words, the average man who is past
middle life has obtained what he strove for--success in his calling. As
a young man, he would not, perhaps, have set forth his aspirations so
moderately, but do they not, as a fact, amount to this? In defence of
the optimistic view, one may urge how rare it is to meet with an elderly
man who harbours a repining spirit. True; but I have always regarded as
a fact of infinite pathos the ability men have to subdue themselves to
the conditions of life. Contentment so often means resignation,
abandonment of the hope seen to be forbidden.

I cannot resolve this doubt.

VIII.

I have been reading Sainte-Beuve's _Port Royal_, a book I have often
thought of reading, but its length, and my slight interest in that
period, always held me aloof. Happily, chance and mood came together,
and I am richer by a bit of knowledge well worth a