I reflected so much on the subject that I soon saw
nothing but error and folly in the doctrine of our sages, and
oppression and misery in our social order. In the illusion of my
foolish pride, I thought myself capable of destroying all imposture;
and thinking that, to make myself listened to, it was necessary my
conduct should agree with my principles, I adopted the singular manner
of life which I have not been permitted to continue, the example of
which my pretended friends have never forgiven me, which at first made
me ridiculous, and would at length have rendered me respectable, had
it been possible for me to persevere.
Until then I had been good; from that moment I became virtuous, or
at least infatuated with virtue. This infatuation had begun in my
head, but afterwards passed into my heart. The most noble pride
there took root amongst the ruins of extirpated vanity. I affected
nothing; I became what I appeared to be, and during four years at
least, whilst this effervescence continued at its greatest height,
there is nothing great and good that can enter the heart of man, of
which I was not capable between heaven and myself. Hence flowed my
sudden eloquence; hence, in my first writings, that fire really
celestial, which consumed me, and whence during forty years not a
single spark had escaped, because it was not yet lighted up.
I was really transformed; my friends and acquaintance scarcely
knew me. I was no longer that timid, and rather bashful than modest
man, who neither dared to present himself, nor utter a word; whom a
single pleasantry disconcerted, and whose face was covered with a
blush the moment his eyes met those of a woman.
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