Ah, Gogo, is a man happier than a mouse, or a mouse than a turnip, or a turnip than a lump of chalk? But what man would be a mouse or a turnip, or _vice versa_? What turnip would be a lump--of anything but itself? Are two people happier than one? You and I, yes; because we _are_ one; but who else? It is one and all. Happiness is like time and space--we make and measure it ourselves; it is a fancy--as big, as little, as you please; just a thing of contrasts and comparisons, like health or strength or beauty or any other good--that wouldn't even be noticed but for sad personal experience of its opposite!--or its greater! "I have forgotten all I know but this, which is for you and me: we are inseparable forever. Be sure we shall not want to go back again for a moment." "And is there no punishment or reward?" Oh, there again! What a detail! Poor little naughty perverse midges--who were _born_ so--and _can't_ keep straight! poor little exemplary midges who couldn't go wrong if they tried! Is it worth while? Isn't it enough for either punishment or reward that the secrets of all midges' hearts shall be revealed, and for all other midges to see? Think of it! * * * * * There are battles to be fought and races to be won, but no longer against '_each other_.' And strength and swiftness to win them; but no longer any strong and swift. There is weakness and cowardice, but no longer any cowards or weaklings. The good and the bad and the worst and the best--it is all mixed up. But the good comes to the top; the bad goes to the bottom--it is precipitated, as papa used to say. It is not an agreeable sediment, with its once useful cruelty at the lowest bottom of all--out of sight, out of mind--all but forgotten. _C'est deja le ciel_. * * * * * "And the goal? The cause, the whither, and the why of it all? Ah! Gogo--as inscrutable, as unthinkable as ever, till the great guesser comes! At least so it seems to me, speaking as a fool, out of the depths of my poor ignorance; for I am a new arrival, and a complete outsider, with my chain and locket, waiting for you. "I have only picked up a few grains of sand on the shore of that sea--a few little shells, and I can't even show you what they are like. I see that it is no good even talking of it, alas! And I had promised myself _so_ much.