I say to myself when I read them: it is perhaps well that I shall not remember this when I wake, after all!
For I might be indiscreet and injudicious, and either say too much or not enough; and the world might come to a stand-still, all through me. For who would fardels bear, as Mary said! No! The world must be content to wait for the great guesser!
Thus my lips are sealed.
All I know is this: that all will be well for us all, and of such a kind that all who do not sigh for the moon will be well content.
* * * * *
In such wise have I striven, with the best of my ability, to give some account of my two lives and Mary's. We have lived three lives between us—three lives in one.
It has been a happy task, however poorly performed, and all the conditions of its performance have been singularly happy also.
A cell in a criminal lunatic asylum! That does not sound like a bower in the Elysian Fields! It is, and has been for me.
Besides the sun that lights and warms my inner life, I have been treated with a kindness and sympathy and consideration by everybody here, from the governor downward, that fills me with unspeakable gratitude.
Most especially do I feel grateful to my good friends, the doctor, the chaplain, and the priest—best and kindest of men—each of whom has made up his mind about everything in heaven and earth and below, and each in a contrary sense to the two others!