l to a meditative man. In long winter evenings it is
sometimes delightful and always wise to stretch oneself in it easily,
far from the din of the numerous assemblies.

After my armchair, in walking towards the north I discover my bed, which
is placed at the end of my room, and there forms a most agreeable
perspective. So happily is it arranged that the earliest rays of
sunlight come and play on the curtains. I can see them, on fine summer
mornings, advancing along the white wall with the rising sun; some elms,
growing before my window, divide them in a thousand ways, and make them
dance on my bed, which, by their reflection, spread all round the room
the tint of its own charming white and rose pattern. I hear the
twittering of the swallows that nest in the roof, and of other birds in
the elms; a stream of charming thoughts flows into my mind, and in the
whole world nobody has an awakening as pleasant and as peaceful as mine.

_III.--The Beast_

Only metaphysicians must read this chapter. It throws a great light on
the nature of man. I cannot explain how and why I burnt my fingers at
the first steps I made in setting out on my journey around my room,
until I expose my system of the soul and the beast. In the course of
diverse observations I have found out that man is composed of a soul and
a beast.

It is often said that man is made up of a soul and a body, and this body
is accused of doing all sorts of wrong things. In my opinion, there is
no ground for such accusations, for the body is as incapable of feeling
as it is of thinking. The beast is the creature on whom the blame should
be laid. It is a sensible being, perfectly distinct from the soul, a
veritable individual, with its separate existence, tastes, inclinations,
and will; it is superior to other animals only because it has been
better brought up, and endowed with finer organs. The great art of a man
of genius consists in knowing how to train his beast so well that it can
run alone, while the soul, delivered from its painful company, rises up
into the heavens. I must make this clear by an example.

One day last summer I was walking along on my way to the court. I had
been painting all the morning, and my soul, delighted with her
meditation on painting, left to the beast the care of transporting me to
the king's palace.

"What a sublime art painting is!" thought my soul. "Happy is the man who
has been touched by the spectacle of nature, who is not comp