In the night which covers it are born the
ridiculous persuasions it has of itself, thence come its
errors, its ignorance, its silly mistakes; thence it is
led to believe that its passions which sleep are dead,
and to think that it has lost all appetite for that of
which it is sated. But this thick darkness which con-
ceals it from itself does not hinder it from seeing that
perfectly which is out of itself; and in this it re-
sembles our eyes which behold all, and yet cannot set
their own forms. In fact, in great concerns and im-
portant matters when the violence of its desires sum-
mons all its attention, it sees, feels, hears, imagines,
suspects, penetrates, divines all: so that we might
think that each of its passions had a magic power
proper to it. Nothing is so close and strong as its
attachments, which, in sight of the extreme misfor-
tunes which threaten it, it vainly attempts to break.
Yet sometimes it effects that without trouble and
quickly, which it failed to do with its whole power
and in the course of years, whence we may fairly con-
clude that it is by itself that its desires are inflamed,
rather than by the beauty and merit of its objects,
that its own taste embellishes and heightens them;
that it is itself the game it pursues, and that it follows
eagerly when it runs after that upon which itself is
eager.
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