A sheet of fine drawing-paper was a greater
temptation than money sufficient to have purchased a ream. This
unreasonable caprice is connected with one of the most striking
singularities of my character, and has so far influenced my conduct,
that it requires a particular explanation.
My passions are extremely violent; while under their influence,
nothing can equal my impetuosity; I am an absolute stranger to
discretion, respect, fear, or decorum; rude, saucy, violent, and
intrepid: no shame can stop, no danger intimidate me. My mind is
frequently so engrossed by a single object, that beyond it the whole
world is not worth a thought; this is the enthusiasm of a moment,
the next, perhaps, I am plunged in a state of annihilation. Take me in
my moments of tranquility, I am indolence and timidity itself; a
word to speak, the least trifle to perform, appear an intolerable
labor; everything alarms and terrifies me; the very buzzing of a fly
will make me shudder: I am so subdued by fear and shame, that I
would gladly shield myself from mortal view.
When obliged to exert myself, I am ignorant what to do! when
forced to speak, I am at a loss for words; and if any one looks at me,
I am instantly out of countenance. If animated with my subject, I
express my thoughts with ease, but, in ordinary conversations, I can
say nothing- absolutely nothing; and, being obliged to speak,
renders them insupportable.
I may add, that none of my predominant inclinations center in
those pleasures which are to be purchased: money empoisons my
delights; I must have them unadulterated; I love those of the table,
for instance, but cannot endure the restraints of good company, or the
intemperance of taverns; I can enjoy them only with a friend, for
alone it is equally impossible; my imagination is then so occupied
with other things, that I find no pleasure in eating.
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