But, in return, the same office refuses the town of Lâon a bust of Marshal Serrurier, a brave man who was no gallant, and moreover had been so vulgar as to begin his career by the trade of private soldier. (Speech of General Foy, Courrier of 17th June, 1820. Dulaure, in his curious History of Paris, Amours of Henry IV.)
CHAPTER LVII
OF VIRTUE, SO CALLED
Myself, I honour with the name of virtue the habit of doing painful actions which are of use to others.
St. Simon Stylites, who sits twenty-two years on the top of a column beating himself with a strap, is in my eyes, I confess, not at all virtuous; and it is this that gives this essay a tone only too unprincipled.
I esteem not a bit more the Chartreux monk who eats nothing but fish and allows himself to talk only on Thursday. I own I prefer General Carnot, who, at an advanced age, puts up with the rigours of exile in a little northern town rather than do a base action.
I have some hope that this extremely vulgar declaration will lead the reader to skip the rest of this chapter.
This morning, a holiday, at Pesaro (May 7th, 1819), being obliged to go to Mass, I got hold of a Missal and fell upon these words:—
Joanna, Alphonsi quinti Lusitaniae regis filia, tanta divini amoris flamma praeventa fuit, ut ab ipsa pueritia rerum caducarum pertaesa, solo coelestis patriae desiderio flagraret.