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Old Age and Death The Memoirs Of Jacques Casanova De Seingalt ...

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53<br />

one raised the least difficulty . . . . If circumstances do not permit me<br />

to pay you my respects at Berlin, I hope for the happiness of seeing you<br />

here next year . . . ."<br />

Sometime after this <strong>and</strong> following his quarrel with M. Opiz, <strong>Casanova</strong><br />

evidently passed through a period of depression, as indicated by a<br />

manuscript at Dux, headed "Short reflection of a philosopher who finds<br />

himself thinking of procuring his own death," <strong>and</strong> dated "the 13th<br />

<strong>De</strong>cember 1793, the day dedicated to S. Lucie, remarkable in my too long<br />

life."<br />

"Life is a burden to me. What is the metaphysical being who prevents me<br />

from slaying myself? It is Nature. What is the other being who enjoins me<br />

to lighten the burdens of that life which brings me only feeble pleasures<br />

<strong>and</strong> heavy pains? It is Reason. Nature is a coward which, dem<strong>and</strong>ing only<br />

conservation, orders me to sacrifice all to its existence. Reason is a<br />

being which gives me resemblance to God, which treads instinct under foot<br />

<strong>and</strong> which teaches me to choose the best way after having well considered<br />

the reasons. It demonstrates to me that I am a man in imposing silence on<br />

the Nature which opposes that action which alone could remedy all my<br />

ills.<br />

"Reason convinces me that the power I have of slaying myself is a<br />

privilege given me by God, by which I perceive that I am superior to all<br />

animals created in the world; for there is no animal who can slay itself<br />

nor think of slaying itself, except the scorpion, which poisons itself,<br />

but only when the fire which surrounds it convinces it that it cannot<br />

save itself from being burned. This animal slays itself because it fears<br />

fire more than death. Reason tells me imperiously that I have the right<br />

to slay myself, with the divine oracle of Cen: 'Qui non potest vivere<br />

bene non vivat male.' <strong>The</strong>se eight words have such power that it is

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