Suddenly my weakness and sickness left me--so potent a
drug is joy!--and, as we passed the gates loudly salaming to the warders,
who were crouching over the fire inside, a weight of care and anxiety fell
from me like a cloak of lead.
Yet, dear L., I had time, on the top of my mule for musing upon how
melancholy a thing is success. Whilst failure inspirits a man, attainment
reads the sad prosy lesson that all our glories
"Are shadows, not substantial things."
Truly said the sayer, "disappointment is the salt of life"--a salutary
bitter which strengthens the mind for fresh exertion, and gives a double
value to the prize.
This shade of melancholy soon passed away. The morning was beautiful. A
cloudless sky, then untarnished by sun, tinged with reflected blue the
mist-crowns of the distant peaks and the smoke wreaths hanging round the
sleeping villages, and the air was a cordial after the rank atmosphere of
the town. The dew hung in large diamonds from the coffee trees, the spur-
fowl crew blithely in the bushes by the way-side:--briefly, never did the
face of Nature appear to me so truly lovely.
We hurried forwards, unwilling to lose time and fearing the sun of the
Erar valley.
