occasions where I have power to test them; just as much, and no more--if
I am right in concluding that mind and soul are merely subtle functions
of body. If I chance to become deranged in certain parts of my physical
mechanism, I shall straightway be deranged in my wits; and behold that
Something in me which "partakes of the eternal" prompting me to pranks
which savour little of the infinite wisdom. Even in its normal condition
(if I can determine what that is) my mind is obviously the slave of
trivial accidents; I eat something that disagrees with me, and of a
sudden the whole aspect of life is changed; this impulse has lost its
force, and another which before I should not for a moment have
entertained, is all-powerful over me. In short, I know just as little
about myself as I do about the Eternal Essence, and I have a haunting
suspicion that I may be a mere automaton, my every thought and act due to
some power which uses and deceives me.

Why am I meditating thus, instead of enjoying the life of the natural
man, at peace with himself and the world, as I was a day or two ago?
Merely, it is evident, because my health has suffered a temporary
disorder. It has passed; I have thought enough about the unthinkable; I
feel my quiet returning. Is it any merit of mine that I begin to be in
health once more? Could I, by any effort of the will, have shunned this
pitfall?



XV.


Blackberries hanging thick upon the hedge bring to my memory something of
long ago. I had somehow escaped into the country, and on a long walk