There were
some amorous ducks, also, whose lovemaking reminded me of what I had
seen a little farther down. But the road grew sad, and I grew weary;
and as I was perpetually haunted with the terror of a return of the
tie that had been playing such ruin in my head a week ago, I turned
and went back to the inn, and supper, and my bed.
The next morning, at breakfast, I communicated to the smart waitress
my intention of continuing down the coast and through Whitehaven to
Furness, and, as I might have expected, I was instantly confronted by
that last and most worrying form of interference, that chooses to
introduce tradition and authority into the choice of a man's own
pleasures. I can excuse a person combating my religious or
philosophical heresies, because them I have deliberately accepted,
and am ready to justify by present argument. But I do not seek to
justify my pleasures. If I prefer tame scenery to grand, a little
hot sunshine over lowland parks and woodlands to the war of the
elements round the summit of Mont Blanc; or if I prefer a pipe of
mild tobacco, and the company of one or two chosen companions, to a
ball where I feel myself very hot, awkward, and weary, I merely state
these preferences as facts, and do not seek to establish them as
principles.
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