and artist, one is here driven backward and forward by a hundred ideas of his own, while his services are put in requisition by hundreds of persons. His situation is peculiar and strange: he cannot freely sympathise with another's being, because he finds his own exertions so put to the stretch.
And, after all, the world is nothing but a wheel. In its whole periphery it is everywhere similar; but, nevertheless, it appears to us so strange, because we ourselves are carried round with it.
What I always said has actually come to pass: in this land alone do I begin to understand and to unravel many a phenomenon of nature, and complication of opinion. I am gathering from every quarter, and shall bring back with me a great deal,—certainly much love of my own native land, and joy to live with a few dear friends.
With regard to my Sicilian tour, the gods still hold the scales in their hands: the index still wavers.
Who can the friend be who has been thus mysteriously announced? Only, may I not neglect him in my pilgrimage and tour in the island!
The frigate from Palermo has returned: in eight days she sets sail again. Whether I shall sail with it, and be back at Rome by Passion Week, I have not as yet determined. Never in my life have I been so undecided: a trifle will turn the scale.
With men I get on rather better: for I feel that one must weigh them by avoirdupois weight, and not by the jeweller's scales; as, unfortunately, friends too often weigh one another in their hypochondriacal humours and in an overexacting spirit.
