"Do not be surprised at the incoherence of what I write. Diverse
emotions inflame me; thoughts at times assail me truly worthy of my
immortal soul; but at times also I fall into a lamentable state of
dejection, and I am reminded of the weak and degenerate characters whose
baseness you have painted to me in such strong colors, in order that I
might abhor them. In the state in which I am to-day I am ready for good
or for evil. God have pity upon me! I already know what prayer is--a
solemn and reflexive supplication, so personal that it is not compatible
with formulas learned by heart; an expansion of the soul which dares to
reach out toward its source; the opposite of remorse, in which the
soul, at war with itself, seeks in vain to defend itself by sophisms
and concealments. You have taught me many good things, but now I am
practising; as we engineers say, I am studying on the ground; and in
this way my knowledge will become broadened and confirmed. I begin to
imagine now that I am not so wicked as I myself believe. Am I right?
"I end this letter in haste.
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