The revolutions of his tempestuous blood, the resentful memory of wrongs, the keen perception of insincerity, shallowness, and evanescence, and the want of any grounded faith in a future life gave Forrest many hours of melancholy, of bitterness, and almost of despair. But he never, not even in the darkest hour, became a misanthrope or an atheist. In one of his commonplace books he had copied these lines which he was often heard to quote:
“The weariness, the wildness, the unrest,
Like an awakened tempest, would not cease;
And I said in my sorrow, Who is blessed?
What is good? What is truth? Where is peace?”
A few of his characteristic expressions in his depressed moods may have interest for the reader:
“Is there then no rest but in the grave? Rest without the consciousness of rest? The rest of annihilation?”
“I am very sad and disheartened at the iniquitous decisions of these juries and judges. I could willingly die now with an utter contempt for this world and a perfect indifference to my fate in the next.”
“I wish the great Day of Doom were not a chimera. What a solace it would be to all those whom man has so deeply wronged!”
“This human life is a wretched failure, and the sooner annihilation comes to it the better.”