THE SPELL OF THE PAST 243 



its relish, till it is liable to become a positive weari- 

 ness. 



Hence in saying we would not live our lives over, 

 we are only emphasizing this reluctance we feel at 

 going back, at taking up again what we have finished 

 and laid down. Time translates itself in the mind 

 as space ; our earlier lives seem afar off, to be reached 

 only by retracing our steps, and this we are not will- 

 ing to do. In the only sense in which we can live 

 our lives over, namely, in the lives of our children, 

 we live them over again very gladly. We begin the 

 game again with the old zest. 



Who would not have his youth renewed ? What 

 old man would not have again, if he could, the vigor 

 and elasticity of his prime ? But we would not go 

 back for them ; we would have them here and now, 

 and date the new lease from this moment. It argues 

 no distaste for life, therefore, no deep dissatisfaction 

 with it, to say we would not live our lives over again. 

 We do live them over again from day to day, arid 

 from year to year ; but the shadow of the past, we 

 would not enter that. Why is it a shadow ? Why 

 this pathos of the days that are gone ? Is it be- 

 cause, as Schopenhauer insists, life has more pain 

 than pleasure ? But it is all beautiful, the painful 

 experiences as well as the pleasurable ones ; it is all 

 bathed in a light that never was on sea or land, and 

 yet we see it as it were through a mist of tears. 

 There is no pathos in the future, or in the present; 

 but in the house of memory there are more sighs 

 than laughter. 



