be dull mokes indeed; without ambition
much of the zest and enterprise of life would be gone; gold, in the
present order of affairs, is a very useful servant. These things are
right enough--but to be CHAINED to them, to be unable to think of
anything else--what a fate! The subject reminds one of a not uncommon
spectacle. It is a glorious day; the sun is bright, small white clouds
float in the transparent blue--a day when you linger perforce on the
road to enjoy the scene. But suddenly here comes a man painfully running
all hot and dusty and mopping his head, and with no eye, clearly, for
anything around him. What is the matter? He is absorbed by one idea.
He is running to catch a train! And one cannot help wondering what
EXCEEDINGLY important business it must be for which all this glory and
beauty is sacrificed, and passed by as if it did not exist.

Further we must remember that in our foolishness we very commonly chain
ourselves, not only to things like sense-pleasures and ambitions which
are on the edge, so to speak, of being vices; but also to other things
which are accounted virtues, and which as far as I can see are just as
bad, if we once become enslaved to them. I have known people who were so
exceedingly 'spiritual' and 'good' that one really felt quite depressed
in their company; I have known others whose sense of duty, dear things,
was so strong that they seemed quite unable to REST, or even to allow
their friends to rest; and I have wondered whether, after all, worriting
about one's duty might not be as bad--as deteriorating to oneself, as
distressing to one's friends--as sinning a good solid sin. No, in this
respect virtues MAY be no better than vices; and to be chained to a
wheelbarrow made of alabaster is no way preferable to being chained to
one of wood. To sacrifice the immortal freedom of the mind in order to
become a prey to self-regarding cares and anxieties, self-estimating
virtues and vices, self-chaining duties and indulgences, is a mistake.
And I warn you, it is quite useless. For the destiny of Freedom is
ultimately upon every one, and if refusing it for a time you heap your
life persistently upon one object--however blameless in itself that
object may be--Beware! For one day--and when you least expect it--the
gods will send a thunderbolt upon you. One day the thing for which
you have toiled and spent laborious days and sleepless nights will lie
broken before you--your reputation will be ruined,