expressions against their dogmas which give them pain; by no means: it
is the atrocious doctrines (so prejudicial to the country, if in
polities; so pernicious to the world, if in philosophy), which their
duty, not their vanity, induces them to denounce and anathematize."

"There seems," said Clarence, "to be a sort of reaction in sophistry
and hypocrisy: there has, perhaps, never been a deceiver who was not,
by his own passions, himself the deceived."

"Very true," said Talbot; "and it is a pity that historians have not
kept that fact in view: we should then have had a better notion of the
Cromwells and Mohammeds of the past than we have now, nor judged those
as utter impostors who were probably half dupes. But to return to
myself. I think you will already be able to answer your own question,
why I did not turn author, now that we have given a momentary
consideration to the penalties consequent on such a profession. But
in truth, as I near the close of my life, I often regret that I had
not more courage, for there is in us all a certain restlessness in the
persuasion, whether true or false, of superior knowledge or intellect,
and this urges us on to the proof; or, if we resist its impulse;
renders us discontented with our idleness and disappointed with the
past. I have everything now in my possession which it has been the
desire of my later years to enjoy: health, retirement, successful
study, and the affection of one in whose breast, when I am gone, my
memory will not utterly pass away. With these advantages, added to
the gifts of fortune, and an habitual elasticity of spirit, I confess
that my happiness is not free from a biting and frequent regret: I
would fain have been a better citizen; I would fain have died in the
consciousness not only that I had improved my mind to the utmost, but
that I had turned that improvement to the benefit of my fellow-