thing at once tender and brilliant beyond all things.
I want Fame more than I can tell.
But more than I want Fame I want Happiness. I have never been happy in my weary young life.
Think, oh, think, of being happy for a year—for a day! How brilliantly blue the sky would be; how swiftly and joyously would the green rivers run; how madly, merrily triumphant the four winds of heaven would sweep round the corners of the fair earth!
What would I not give for one day, one hour, of that charmed thing Happiness! What would I not give up?
How we eager fools tread on each other's heels, and tear each other's hair, and scratch each other's faces, in our furious gallop after Happiness! For some it is embodied in Fame, for some in Money, for some in Power, for some in Virtue—and for me in something very much like love.
None of the other fools desires Hap-
