II
READER, I warn you against psychological authors! Do not believe in the logical sequence of thoughts which, they say, manifests itself in the souls of heroes and heroines. Do not believe in their long-spun monologues, nor in the reminiscences which are drawn out in chainlike order from souls stirred by dreams,—those are old, well-known nets which the sly author, following the good examples of others, casts for your unwary faith: he spreads them out, rubs his hands in glee, and whispers softly: “Only read, and you will be mine.”
Our soul . . . just look into it: it is as though you saw the surface of the water. Upon it is beautifully reflected the azure of the skies, the white cloud, the splendor of the sun, the ruddy west, the bird that flits some-
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