My Little Table 



a book, which is not always very clear, be- 

 cause of its laconic adherence to set terms, 

 our poor bark is bound to be wrecked on the 

 first reef. One might as well put out to sea 

 in a nutshell and defy the billows of the vasty 

 deep. He does not use these actual words, 

 but his gloomy estimate of the extreme diffi- 

 culties to be encountered is enough to explain 

 his refusal. I am quite free to go and break 

 my neck in far countries; he is more prudent 

 and will not follow me. 



I suspect another reason, which the deserter 

 does not confess. He has obtained the title 

 needed for his plans. What does he care 

 for the rest? Is it worth while to sit up late 

 at night and wear one's self out in toil for the 

 mere pleasure of learning? He must be a 

 madman who, without the lure of profit, lends 

 an ear to the blandishments of knowledge. 

 Let us retreat into our shell, close our lid to 

 the importunities of the light and lead the 

 life of a mussel. There lies the secret of 

 happiness. 



This philosophy is not mine. My curiosity 

 sees in a stage accomplished no more than the 

 preparation for a new stage towards the re- 

 treating unknown. My partner, therefore, 

 leaves me. Henceforth, I am alone, alone 



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