5–11 November 1838

Freedom. — I will, I think, no longer do things unfit for me. Why should I act the part of the silly women who send out invitations to many persons, and receive each billet of acceptance as if it were a pistol-shot? Why should I read lec- tures with care and pain and afflict myself with all the meanness of ticket-mongering, when I might sit, as God in his goodness has enabled me, a free, poor man with wholesome bread and warm clothes, though without cakes or gew-gaws, and write and speak the beautiful and formid- able words of a free man? If you cannot be free, be as free as you can.

"The Asylums of the Mind. — I have said on a former page that natural science always stands open to us as any asylum, and that, in the con- flict with the common cares, we throw an occa- sional affectionate glance at lichen and fungus, barometer and microscope, as cities of refuge to which we can one day flee, if the worst come to the worst. Another asylum is in the exercise of the fancy. Puck and Oberon, Tam O'Shanter and Lili's Park, the Troubadours and old bal- lads are bowers of joy that beguile us of our woes, catch us up into short heavens and drown all re- membrance, and that too without a death-tramp of Eumenides being heard close behind, as be- hind other revels. Better still it is to soar into the heaven of invention, and coin fancies of our own, — weave a web'of dreams as gay and beauti- ful as any of these our brothers have done, and learn by bold attempt our own riches. As the body is rested and refreshed by riding in the saddle after walking, and by walking again after the saddle, or as new muscles are called into play in climbing a hill, and then in descending, or walk- ing on the plain, an analogous joy and strength flows from this exercise. Let no man despise these entertainments as ifit were mere luxury and the drunkard's bowl. These airy realms of per- petual joy are also in nature, and what they are may well move the deep wonder and inquisition of the coldest and surliest philosopher.