Repose has many aspects. There is repose when a person retires from the action of everyday life and finds oneself alone in one's room. The person breathes a breath of thankfulness, after all the interesting or uninteresting experiences, "I am just now alone by myself." It is not an ordinary feeling; there is a far deeper feeling behind it. The meaning is in the certainty that there is nothing to attract one's mind and nothing which demands one's action. At that moment one's soul has a glimpse of relief, the pleasure of which is inexpressible. But the intoxication of life from which everyone suffers is such that one cannot very well appreciate that moment of relief, because every person expects it in the time of retirement from the actions of daily life, rich or poor, tired or not. Does this not teach us that there is a great mystery in repose, a mystery of which a person is very often ignorant?