d; and his
vanity enhanced his least actions to such a degree that he actually
believed himself the lover of a woman if he merely kissed her hand. It
was thus that he boasted of making innumerable conquests at every hour
of the day; and, to hear him talk, always tired and exhausted with love,
he was a wreck at twenty, as the price of his inordinate exploits.
Enamoured of his appearance, he saw nothing beyond the blankness of his
little soul, or rather he made it the origin and the end of everything.
Poor empty head! Wretched puppet, whose spring was the vanity which
every passer-by could set in motion at will!

At a time when I myself did not know it, he had cleverly discovered what
he must appear to be in order to arouse my enthusiasm, thus offering me
the illusion of that faith which I aspire to awaken in you, my Roseline.
Certainly, I owe him much! If an exact copy of a masterpiece can stir us
as deeply as the original, the perfect impersonation of a fine intellect
and a noble character can influence us very happily. How grateful I am
to him for the trouble which he took to give me a representation of
virtues which he did not possess! They were painted on his soul in such
relief, a relief which no reality gives, as I was afterwards to learn!
The artificial lilies that decorate the chapel of the church hard by
have an assurance that is absent from those which will soon fade over
there, on the table. The false boasts an unvarying brilliance, an
imposing emphasis which we never find in the true. And, no doubt, the
qualities of which he vouchsafed me the sight would never have had such
value in my eyes, if his fatuousness had not displayed them to my
youthful admiration as one shows an object behind a magnifying-glass.

And what does it matter to me now that they were false, those gifts with
which that soul seemed laden, if for a moment I pictured them as real!
After the error was dispelled, the image which I once thought true
remained in me. It had determined my tastes, fixed my opinions, set my
mind at rest. Subsequently, I was to try and refashion the perfection of
which I had beheld the mirage and, with still greater ardour, I was to
pursue in others and conquer at last the reality of the once-known
happiness which I thought that I had found in him.

We are none the poorer when a sad truth takes the place of a beautiful
dream. Knowledge has already filled the void which the lost illusion
leaves behind it....

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