ntellect, I have found the happy
self-sacrifice of goodness. Pierre, M. Antoine, and Mother Denis had all
kept their Carnival; but for the first two, it was only a feast for the
senses or the mind; while for the third, it was a feast for the heart.

CHAPTER III. WHAT WE MAY LEARN BY LOOKING OUT OF WINDOW

March 3d

A poet has said that life is the dream of a shadow: he would better have
compared it to a night of fever! What alternate fits of restlessness and
sleep! what discomfort! what sudden starts! what ever-returning thirst!
what a chaos of mournful and confused fancies! We can neither sleep
nor wake; we seek in vain for repose, and we stop short on the brink of
action. Two thirds of human existence are wasted in hesitation, and the
last third in repenting.

When I say human existence, I mean my own! We are so made that each of
us regards himself as the mirror of the community: what passes in our
minds infallibly seems to us a history of the universe. Every man is
like the drunkard who reports an earthquake, because he feels himself
staggering.

And why am I uncertain and restless--I, a poor day-laborer in the
world--who fill an obscure station in a corner of it, and whose work
it avails itself of, without heeding the workman? I will tell you, my
unseen friend, for whom these lines are written; my unknown brother, on
whom the solitary call in sorrow; my imaginary confidant, to whom
all monologues are addressed and who is but the shadow of our own
conscience.

A great event has happened in my life! A crossroad has suddenly opened
in the middle of the monotonous way along which I was travelling
quietly, and without thinking of it. Two roads present themselves, and
I must choose between them. One is only the continuation of that I have
followed till now; the other is wider, and exhibits wondrous prospects.
On the first there is nothing to fear, but also little to hope; on the
other are great dangers and great fortune. Briefly, the question is,
whether I shall give up the humble office in which I thought to die,
for one of those bold speculations in which chance alone is banker! Ever
since yesterday I have consulted with myself; I have compared the two
and I remain undecided.

Where shall I find light--who will advise me?

Sunday, 4th.--See the sun coming out from the thick fogs of winter!
Spring announces its approach; a soft breeze skims over the roofs, and
my wallflower begins to blow again.

We are