my audience I am not so much the sage, who has solved the mystery of the iron grate, as a great martyr of a righteous cause, which they do not quite understand.  Shunning abstract discussions, they eagerly hang on every word of compassion and kindness, and respond with the same.  Allowing them to love me and to believe in my immutable knowledge of life, I afford them the happy opportunity to depart at least for a time from the coldness of life, from its painful doubts and questions.

I say openly without any false modesty, which I despise even as I despise hypocrisy, there were lectures at which I myself being in a state of exaltation, called forth in my audience, especially in my nervous lady visitors, a mood of intense agitation, which turned into hysterical laughter and tears.  Of course I am not a prophet; I am merely a modest thinker, but no one would succeed in convincing my lady admirers that there is no prophetic meaning and significance in my speeches.

I remember one such lecture which took place two months ago.  The night before I could not sleep as soundly as I usually slept; perhaps it was simply because of the full moon, which affects sleep, disturbing and interrupting it.  I vaguely remember the strange sensation which I experienced when the pale crescent of the moon appeared in my window and the iron squares cut it with ominous black lines into small silver squares....

When I started for the lecture I felt exhausted and rather inclined to silence than to conversation; the vision of the night before disturbed me.  But when I saw those dear faces, those eyes full of hope and ardent entreaty for friendly advice; when I saw before me that rich field, already ploughed, waiting only for the good seed to be sown, my heart began to burn with delight, pity and love.  Avoiding the customary formalities which accompany the meetings of people, declining the hands outstretched to greet me, I turned to the audience, which was agitated at the very sight of me, and gave them my blessing with a gesture to which I know how to lend a peculiar majesty.

“Come unto me,” I exclaimed; “come unto me; you who have gone away from that life.  Here, in this quiet abode, under the sacred protection of the iron grate, at my heart overflowing with love, you will find rest and comfort.  My beloved children, give me your sad soul, exhausted from suffering, and I shall clothe it with light.  I shall carry it to those blissful lands where the sun of eternal truth and love never sets.”

Many had begun to cry already, but, as it was too early for tears, I interrupted them with a gesture of fatherly impatience, and continued: 

“You, dear girl, who came from the world which calls itself free—­ what gloomy shadows lie on your charming and beautiful face!  And you, my daring youth, why are you so pale?  Why do I see, instead of the ecstasy of victory, the fear of defeat in your lowered eyes?  And you, honest mother, tell me, what wind has made your eyes so red?  What furious rain has lashed your wizened face?  What snow has whitened your hair, for it used to be dark?”