The Revolution, by sacrifice, confirmed superstition.
X
_Politique_. I have no convictions, as the men of my age understand the
term, because I have no ambition.
There is no basis in me for conviction.
There is a certain cowardice, or rather a certain softness, in honest
men.
The brigands alone are convinced--of what? That they must succeed.
Therefore, they succeed.
Why should I succeed, when I haven't even the desire to try?
Glorious empires can be founded on crime, and noble religions on
imposture.
However, I have some convictions, in a higher sense, that cannot be
understood by the men of my day.
Feeling of _solitude_, from my childhood. Despite my family, and in
the midst of my comrades above all,--feeling of an eternally solitary
destiny.
Withal, an intense desire for life and for pleasure.
Almost all our life is spent in idle curiosity. In revenge, there are
things which ought to rouse human curiosity to the highest degree, and
which, to judge by their commonplace activity, inspire it in no one!
Where are our dead friends? Why are we here? Do we come from somewhere?
What is liberty? Can it harmonize with providential law? Is the number
of souls finite or infinite? And the number of habitable worlds? etc.,
etc.