Finished our conversation, of which I have sought to give you a faithful translation, although the Sakai had expressed himself in the short, monotonous phrases peculiar to his tongue, that is scarce of words and verbs, we prepared to follow the example of the other members of my host's family who had gone to sleep during our quiet chat. But before closing my eyes I repassed in mind the theories expounded by the old forester, and I found in them such a just expression of rectitude, of simple but strong logic, of spirit and intelligence that I could not but admire and agree.
A half-breed Sakai.
p. [103].
I asked myself if the philosophy of the learned was not inferior to that of this savage, who considered existence as limited to the satisfaction of material wants, without torturing himself about imaginary need, and without consuming nerves, muscles, heart and brain in a daily struggle for what he could dispense with? And I asked myself if in that perfect inertness, in that immunity from all feelings of sensuality, hatred, ambition or rivalry must he not be a thousand times happier than we in civilized society who seek fortune and satisfy our caprices, our follies, in the midst of excitement and strong emotions, living in a continual fever of suspicion, jealousy and envy, accumulating perhaps riches but withering up the soul which cannot enjoy even for a day the supreme blessing of serenity?
Which is nearer the truth (I argued to myself), he who places himself in report with Nature as one of her offspring receiving all the necessities of life straight from her never-failing stores and thereby lowering himself to the state of the humblest of her creatures, or we who worry ourselves in building up a model of perfection, a mannikin, that every one wants to dress up in his own way—with his own virtues or his own defects?
"A contented mind is a continual feast". This adage was verified in the person of the old Sakai. An enemy to progress of any kind he logically conformed himself to his surroundings, and limited his desires to what he was sure of obtaining.
But we who in our civilization hunger and thirst after progress, why do we continually preach this proverb to our young, and illustrate it to them on every possible occasion?
It is, perhaps, because on every hand we come across harsh contradictions presented by those who, with all their study, try to reconcile the true with the absurd in order to get the latter accepted in homage to the former, and they make use of this maxim for their own ends and to take advantage of others, whereas this savage, reared in the maternal arms of Nature (that gives and takes, produces and causes without either deceit or change) was in himself so satisfied with what she provided and ordered that there would have been no need to make him learn with his lips a precept that sprang spontaneously from his heart.