Renan, in one of his books, recalls an old French legend of a
buried city on the coast of Brittany. With its homes, public
buildings, churches and thronged streets, it sank instantly into
the sea. The legend says that the city’s life goes on as before
down beneath the waves. The fishermen, when in calm weather they
row over the place, sometimes think they can see the gleaming
tips of the church-spires deep in the water, and fancy they can
hear the chiming of the bells in the old belfries, and even
the murmur of the city’s noises. There are men who in their
later years seem to have an experience like this. Their life
of youthful hopes, dreams, successes and joys has been sunk
out of sight, submerged in misfortunes and adversities and has
vanished altogether. All that remains is a memory. In their
discouragement they seem to hear the echoes of the old songs of
hope and gladness, and to catch visions of the old beauty and
splendor, but that is all. They have nothing real left. They
have grown hopeless and bitter.
(2009)