I am a haunted man. Haunted by ghosts of days dead and gone; haunted with regrets and by the faces and voices of those who were dear to me: the well remembered friends of old, who have passed into the beyond, where let us hope, there is peace and joy. I beliieve there is, beyond these fleeting scenes, that place where the good and excellent friends whom one misses so greatly have gone, and that they are not wholly unconscious of what passes here. dear friends; perhaps they know us even better now than then; and it may be they rejoice in our joys. They cannot sorrow over-much our sorrows; because if they know anything at all, they must know how small a space of time it is.

This consoles me a very great deal for the turmoil of these days, when life, as i see it, is very like some overpopulated ant heap kicked over by a wanton foot: the unhappy inhabitants of it hurrying hither and thither without any sense of direction. But i am by no means an unhappy man; indeed no. Life is the greatest of all practical jokes, if you can have the wit to see it.
And I, beg to say that my regrets, whatever they may be, are certainly not for misspent youth.
They are the regrets which must come to all, whether saint or sinner.
I love to be haunted in the manner I have described, by the thoughts of those dear ones. Thank God for ones friends. Without them, and the memory of them when they are gone, what would this be but some pitiful pilgrimage?

And, as for those who were not friendly; for the scornful, the spiteful, the malicious; well I supopose they have gone tot heir own place. Let us say to the bosom of Ahrimanes. This may be unchristian; but it is eminently human.