I am. I lose my way
again. The stubborn axe makes its opening without always letting in
sufficient light.

The book is just a book, that is to say, a set text, saying not a word
more than it is obliged to, exceedingly learned, I admit, but,
alas, often obscure! The author, it seems, wrote it for himself. He
understood; therefore others must. Poor beginners, left to yourselves,
you manage as best you can! For you, there shall be no retracing of
steps in order to tackle the difficulty in another way; no circuit
easing the arduous road and preparing the passage; no supplementary
aperture to admit a glimmer of daylight. Incomparably inferior to the
spoken word, which begins again with fresh methods of attack and is
ready to vary the paths that lead to the open, the book says what it
says and nothing more. Having finished its demonstration, whether you
understand or no, the oracle is inexorably dumb. You reread the text and
ponder it obstinately; you pass and repass your shuttle through the woof
of figures. Useless efforts all: the darkness continues. What would be
needed to supply the illuminating ray? Often enough, a trifle, a mere
word; and that word the book will not speak.

Happy is he who is guided by a master's teaching! His progress does not
know the misery of those wearisome breakdowns. What was I to do before
the disheartening wall that every now and then rose up and barred
my road? I followed d'Alembert's precept in his advice to young
mathematical students: 'Have faith and go ahead,' said the great
geometrician.

Faith I had; and I went on pluckily. And it was well for me that I did,
for I often found behind the wall the enlightenment which I was seeking
in front of it. Giving up the bad patch as hopeless, I would go on and,
after I had left it behind, discover the dynamite capable of blasting
it. 'Twas a tiny grain at first, an insignificant ball rolling and
increasing as it went. From one slope to the other of the theorems, it
grew to a heavy mass; and the mass became a mighty projectile which,
flung backwards and retracing its course, split the darkness and spread
it into one vast sheet of light.

D'Alembert's precept is good and very good, provided you do not abuse
it. Too much precipitation in turning over the intractable page might
expose you to many a disappointment. You must have fought the difficulty
tooth and nail before abandoning it. This rough skirmishing leads to
intellectual vigor.

Twelve