of Pan and the cult of Dionysus, but I am not substituting for them,
either outwardly or inwardly, the worship of Yahveh or of Moloch. I have
no liking for Semitic traditions--none and none whatever! I am not able,
like Salaverria, to admire the rich simply because they are rich, nor
people in high stations because they happen to occupy them.

Salaverria assumes that I have a secret admiration for grand society,
generals, magistrates, wealthy gentlemen from America, and Argentines
who shout out: "How perfectly splendid!" I have the same affection for
these things that I have for the cows which clutter up the road in front
of my house. I would not be Fouquier-Tinville to the former nor butcher
to the latter; but my affection then has reached its limit. Even when I
find something worthy of admiration, my inclination is toward the small.
I prefer the Boboli Gardens to those of Versailles, and Venetian or
Florentine history to that of India.

Great states, great captains, great kings, great gods, leave me cold.
They are all for peoples who dwell on vast plains which are crossed by
mighty rivers, for the Egyptians, for the Chinese, for the Hindus, for
the Germans, for the French.

We Europeans who are of the region of the Pyrenees and the Alps, love
small states, small rivers, and small gods, whom we may address
familiarly.

Salaverria is also mistaken when he says that I am afraid of change. I
am not afraid. My nature is to change. I am predisposed to develop, to
move from here to there, to reverse my literary and political views if
my feelings or my ideas alter. I avoid no reading except that which is
dull; I shall never retreat from any performance except a vapid one, nor