This, in my idea, is true philosophy, the surest bulwark of human
rectitude; every day do I receive fresh conviction of its profound
solidity. I have endeavored to recommend it in all my latter writings,
but the multitude read too superficially to have made the remark. If I
survive my present undertaking, and am able to begin another, I
mean, in a continuation of Emilius, to give such a lively and
marking example of this maxim as cannot fail to strike attention.
But I have made reflections enough for a traveler, it is time to
continue my journey.
It turned out more agreeable than I expected: my clownish
conductor was not so morose as he appeared to be. He was a middle-aged
man, wore his black, grizzly hair, in a queue, had a martial air, a
strong voice, was tolerably cheerful, and to make up for not having
been taught any trade, could turn his hand to every one. Having
proposed to establish some kind of manufactory at Annecy, he had
consulted Madam de Warrens, who immediately gave in to the project,
and he was now going to Turin to lay the plan before the minister
and get his approbation, for which journey he took care to be well
rewarded.
This drole had the art of ingratiating himself with the priests,
whom he ever appeared eager to serve; he adopted a certain jargon
which he had learned by frequenting their company, and thought himself
a notable preacher; he could even repeat one passage from the Bible in
Latin, and it answered his purpose as well as if, he had known a
thousand, for he repeated it a thousand times a day.
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