Short Fiction by Xavier de Maistre (digital e reader txt) 📕

disgust from this strange conclusion, and, as for my heart, it protested that it had had no voice in the matter. But, it seemed to me that I had reasoned quite correctly, and I should inevitably have thought very ill of my intellectual faculties, if I had not remembered, that in abstruse metaphysical speculations, like the one before me, some of the first philosophers had often been led by logical deductions to most shocking conclusions, which sometimes overwhelmed the happiness of human society.

I consoled myself then by thinking that, at all events, my speculations would harm nobody. I left the question undecided, and resolved, for the future, to follow alternately my head and my heart, just as each of these two should have the upper hand, and, after all, I think, this is the best plan. I must, in truth, confess it has not done much for me hitherto. What matter? I descend the steep decline of life without fear, without aims, laughing and weeping by turns, and often at the same time, or even whistling some old tune to drive away dull care as I journey on. At other times I pluck a daisy from the hedgerow and pull the petals off one after another, saying, “She loves me a little⁠—very much⁠—passionately⁠—not at all!” The last petal generally is “not at all,”⁠—in truth, Eliza loves me no more.

While I am thus engaged, an entire generation of living creatures passes by: like an immense wave, it advances rapidly, taking me with it, to break on the shore of Eternity; and, as if the storm of life was not sufficiently fierce, as if it impelled us too slowly towards the limits of our lives, the nations everywhere cut each other’s throats and anticipate the day of doom ordained by nature. Even Great Conquerors, dragged along by the rapid whirlwind of the time, amuse themselves by forming thousands of soldiers into squares. What think you of this? But stay, after all, these fine fellows would very shortly have died in the ordinary course of nature. Don’t you see the advancing wave, whose crest is already foaming on the shore? Wait but another moment and you, your enemies, myself, and the daisies will all have vanished! Then how can we marvel enough at such madness? For my part I have resolved in future not to pull to pieces any more daisies!

XXXI

But having fixed on a prudent line of conduct for the future, by means of the clear chain of logic, which has been evolved in the last few chapters, the very important point remained of deciding on the course of the journey I was about to undertake. It is by no means sufficient to get into a carriage or to mount a horse, we must also know where we want to go.

I was so tired out by the metaphysical enquiries which had lately engaged me, that, before deciding on any particular quarter of the globe, I wished to rest for some time and think of nothing. This manner of living is also of my own invention, and I have often benefitted greatly from it; but it is not given to everybody to use it to advantage, for though it is easy to think profoundly by concentrating one’s mind on any given subject, it is not easy to cut short the train of one’s thoughts just as we stop the pendulum of a clock. Molière has most wrongly ridiculed a man who amused himself by making circles on a pond. For my part, I am very much inclined to believe that that man was a philosopher who had the power to stay the working of his mind in order to rest it, one of the most difficult feats the human mind can perform.

I know that some people who have received this faculty without any effort on their own part, and who generally think of nothing at all, will call me a plagiarist and claim priority of invention; but the state of intellectual immobility, which I am now considering, is totally different from that they enjoy, and for which M. Necker15 has already written an apology. Mine is always produced by an effort of the will and can only be momentary. To enjoy it in full perfection, I shut my eyes and placed my two hands on the windowsill, like a tired horseman leaning on the pommel of his saddle, and immediately the recollection of the past, the feeling of the present, and the anticipation of the future, all vanished from my soul.

As this method is very conducive to sleep, after a few short moments of delight, I felt my head fall forward on my chest: immediately I opened my eyes and my thoughts resumed their course. This circumstance clearly proves that this kind of voluntary lethargy is very different from sleep, since the very act of sleep brings me back to consciousness⁠—an accident which has certainly never happened to anyone before.

On raising my eyes to the sky, I saw the pole star right over the top of the house, and that seemed to me a very good omen at the very time I was about to set out on a long journey. During the short period of repose I had just enjoyed, my imagination had recovered all its power, and my heart was again ready to receive the most gentle impressions; to such a degree is its energy increased by a transient annihilation of thought. The gloomy despondency, which usually haunts me on account of our precarious tenure of life, was succeeded by a lively sentiment of hope and courage, and I felt myself able to face life and all the changes of misfortune, or of happiness, she brings in her train.

“Brilliant star,” I exclaimed in my ecstatic rapture, “incomprehensible creation of the Eternal mind. Thou, who, alone constant in the heavens, watchest since the dawn of Creation over one half of the earth. Thou, who guidest