“Here I was, by a mere fluke of misfortune, brought face to face with my real self, a heavy-footed, full-grown, and withal sentimental Bear. Many days passed in a sort of stupor of despair, followed by the sweet inward confession of my sins, which brought resignation and a calm I had never before experienced. If anything could replace the loss of liberty, it was the repose of my new life, for my master showed me uniform kindness. I was commensal of his house by day, and by night was consigned to a stable with some other socially-disposed animals. “Soon after daybreak I was taken to the doorway, where, seated beneath a plane-tree, the hours passed pleasantly in playing with my master’s children, who showed me much affection, while the thoroughfare along the highroad procured endless amusement. “On fête-days the rustics came to dance under the tree; for my master was an innkeeper, and his house a favourite resort. “There the noise of jingling glasses and songs of gay spirits sounded from dawn to sunset. I had always a formal invitation to the dances, which commenced after the evening repast, and were kept up far into {313} the night. Usually I had the good fortune to open the ball with the prettiest girl of the crowd, by a dance similar to the one in vogue a Crete, invented for the amiable Ariadne. Since then I have been enabled to study the private life of men of rank, those on the upper range of the social ladder, and give it as my conviction that the poor mountaineers have a happier lot in life than those regarded by the world as the highly-favoured ones. The conclusion forces itself upon me, that men are happy just in proportion as they are ignorant. It is sad it should be so, as it brings them down to the level of the beast, and tempts some to regard even the Bear, owing to the simplicity of his nature and habits, as an infinitely happier animal than man. My rustic life lasted six months, during which time I followed the example of Apollo, deprived of his glory, guarding the flock of Admetus. “One day, while I was seated as usual beneath the tree, a postchaise drawn by four horses stopped at the door, and I learned that its occupant, who had the air of a travelling aristocrat, was a poet of noble birth and European fame, who had been voyaging in search of adventure. This personage left the carriage to take some refreshment, and during his stay I seemed to be the subject of a conversation which ended in the stranger placing some pieces of gold in the hand of my master, who undid my chain and consigned me to the vehicle. “The peaceful valley where I had spent so many happy days was leagues off before I recovered from my surprise. It is needless to remark that any change in my mode of life caused me much pain and anxiety. Believe me, dear reader, happiness is only to be found in the monotony of an uneventful life.