to permit me
to go . . . . You have given me an idea of Berlin far different than that
the city left with me when I passed four months there twenty-nine years
ago . . . . If my 'Icosameron' interests you, I offer you its Spirit. I
wrote it here two years ago and I would not have published it if I had
not dared hope that the Theological Censor would permit it. At Berlin no
one raised the least difficulty . . . . If circumstances do not permit me
to pay you my respects at Berlin, I hope for the happiness of seeing you
here next year . . . ."

Sometime after this and following his quarrel with M. Opiz, Casanova
evidently passed through a period of depression, as indicated by a
manuscript at Dux, headed "Short reflection of a philosopher who finds
himself thinking of procuring his own death," and dated "the 13th
December 1793, the day dedicated to S. Lucie, remarkable in my too long
life."

"Life is a burden to me. What is the metaphysical being who prevents me
from slaying myself? It is Nature. What is the other being who enjoins me
to lighten the burdens of that life which brings me only feeble pleasures
and heavy pains? It is Reason. Nature is a coward which, demanding only
conservation, orders me to sacrifice all to its existence. Reason is a
being which gives me resemblance to God, which treads instinct under foot
and which teaches me to choose the best way after having well considered
the reasons. It demonstrates to me that I am a man in imposing silence on
the Nature which opposes that action which alone could remedy all my
ills.

"Reason convinces me that the power I have of slaying myself is a
privilege given me by God, by which I perceive that I am superior to all
animals created in the world; for there is no animal who can slay itself
nor think of slaying itself, except the scorpion, which poisons itself,
but only when the fire which surrounds it convinces it that it cannot
save itself from being burned. This animal slays itself because it fears
fire more than death. Reason tells me imperiously that I have the right
to slay myself, with the divine oracle of Cen: 'Qui non potest vivere
bene non vivat male.' These eight words have such power that it is
impossible that a man to whom life is a burden could do other than slay
himself on first hearing them."

Certainly, however, Casanova did not deceive himself with these sophisms,
and Nature, who for many years had unquestionably lavished her gifts on
him, had he