The truth is, that this vision was not in itself a delusion, nor,
indeed, half bright enough. If one could only have been left to do his
own business, the vision would have accomplished itself and brought
out new paraheliacal visions, each as bright as the original. The
misery was and is, as we found out, I and Polly, before long, that,
besides the vision, and besides the usual human and finite failures in
life (such as breaking the old pitcher that came over in the
Mayflower, and putting into the fire the alpenstock with which her
father climbed Mont Blanc)--besides, these, I say (imitating the style
of Robinson Crusoe), there were pitchforked in on us a great
rowen-heap of humbugs, handed down from some unknown seed-time, in
which we were expected, and I chiefly, to fulfil certain public
functions before the community, of the character of those fulfilled by
the third row of supernumeraries who stand behind the Sepoys in the
spectacle of the _Cataract of the Ganges_. They were the duties, in a
word, which one performs as member of one or another social class or
subdivision, wholly distinct from what one does as A.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186