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235
The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft
·
George Gissing
20
VII.
"Homo
animal
querulum
cupide
suis
incumbens
miseriis."
I
wonder
where
that
comes
from.
I
found
it
once
in
Charron,
quoted
without
reference,
and
it
has
often
been
in
my
mind--a
dreary
truth,
well
worded.
At
least,
it
was
a
truth
for
me
during
many
a
long
year.
Life,
I
fancy,
would
very
often
be
insupportable,
but
for
the
luxury
of
self-compassion;
in
cases
numberless,
this
it
must
be
that
saves
from
suicide.
For
some
there
is
great
relief
in
talking
about
their
miseries,
but
such
gossips
lack
the
profound
solace
of
misery
nursed
in
silent
brooding.
Happily,
the
trick
with
me
has
never
been
retrospective;
indeed,
it
was
never,
even
with
regard
to
instant
suffering,
a
habit
so
deeply
rooted
as
to
become
a
mastering
vice.
I
knew
my
own
weakness
when
I
yielded
to
it;
I
despised
myself
when
it
brought
me
comfort;
I
could
laugh
scornfully,
even
"cupide
meis
incumbens
miseriis."
And
now,
thanks
be
to
the
unknown
power
which
rules
us,
my
past
has
buried
its
dead.
More
than
that;
I
can
accept
with
sober
cheerfulness
the
necessity
of
all
I
lived
through.
So
it
was
to
be;
so
it
was.
For
this
did
Nature
shape
me;
with
what
purpose,
I
shall
never
know;
but,
in
the
sequence
of
things
eternal,
this
was
my
place.
Could
I
have
achieved
so
much
philosophy
if,
as
I
ever
feared,
the
closing
years
of
my
life
had
passed
in
helpless
indigence?
Should
I
not
have
sunk
into
lowest
depths
of
querulous
self-pity,
grovelling
there
with
eyes
obstinately
averted
from
the
light
above?
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