ious sir," replied I, "it is only because I do not
see you cheerful."
"I know," continued he, "that you have been dissatisfied with me for
some time past--that you disapprove of every step I take--that--what
does Count O------ say in his letters?"
"Count O------ has not written to me."
"Not written? Why do you deny it? You keep up a confidential
correspondence together, you and the count; I am quite aware of that.
Come, you may confess it, for I have no wish to pry into your secrets."
"Count O------," replied I, "has not yet answered any of the three
letters which I have written to him."
"I have done wrong," continued he; "don't you think so?" (taking up one
of the rouleaus) "I should not have done this?"
"I see that it was necessary."
"I ought not to have reduced myself to such a necessity?"
I did not answer.
"Oh, of course! I ought never to have indulged my wishes, but have
grown gray in the same dull manner in which I was brought up! Because I
once venture a step beyond the drear monotony of my past life, and look
around me to see whether there be not some new source of enjoyment in
store for me--because I--"
"If it was but a trial, gracious sir, I have no more to say; for the
experience you have gained would not be dearly bought at three times the
price it has cost. It grieves me, I confess, to think that the opinion
of the world should be concerned in determining the question--how are
you to choose your own happiness."
"It is well for you that you can afford to despise the world's opinion,"
replied he, "I am its creature, I must be its slave. What are we
princes but opinion? With us it is everything. Public opinion is our
nurse and preceptor in infancy, our oracle and idol in riper years, our
staff in old age. Take from us what we derive from the opinion of the
world, and the poorest of the humblest class is in a better position
than we, for his fate has taught him a lesson of philosophy which
enables him to bear it. But a prince who laughs at the world's opinion
destroys himself, like the priest who denies the existence of a God."
"And yet, gracious prince--"
"I see what you would say; I can break through the circle which my birth
has drawn around me. But can I also eradicate from my memory all the
false impressions which education and early habit have implanted, and
which a hundred thousand fools have been continually laboring to impress
more and more firmly? Everybody naturally wishe
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