"
"Very true!" sighed the old man. "You prove your own position, which
is that your ruling love is self-love."
Alfred lifted up his eyebrows, as if he had heard an unwelcome fact.
We are often willing to confess things, which we do not like to have
old us. He fell into deep thought. Finally he said, "It is
universally allowed that virtue is lovely; those who practise it,
appear calm and resigned, and often happy--but, to tell the truth,
such enjoyment seems rather tame and flat. I wish to be in freedom,
to let my burning impulses rush on as they will, without a yoke. I
love, and I hate, as my heart bids me, and I scorn control of any
kind."
"Yet you submit to a yoke, my son; one which is not of your own
imposing either."
"What kind of a yoke?"
"The yoke of society,--you bow to public opinion in a measure. You
avoid a glaring act, often, more because it will not be _approved_,
than because you have a real disinclination for it. Is not that the
case sometimes?"
Alfred did not exceedingly relish this probing, but he was too
candid to cover up his motives from himself. He answered a decided
"yes!" but it was spoken, because he could not elbow himself out of
the self-evident conviction forced upon him.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288