have forgiven them, had I not lost the memory of all the injuries they
had heaped upon me. The man who forgets does not forgive, he only loses
the remembrance of the harm inflicted on him; forgiveness is the
offspring of a feeling of heroism, of a noble heart, of a generous mind,
whilst forgetfulness is only the result of a weak memory, or of an easy
carelessness, and still oftener of a natural desire for calm and
quietness. Hatred, in the course of time, kills the unhappy wretch who
delights in nursing it in his bosom.

Should anyone bring against me an accusation of sensuality he would be
wrong, for all the fierceness of my senses never caused me to neglect any
of my duties. For the same excellent reason, the accusation of
drunkenness ought not to have been brought against Homer:

'Laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus.'

I have always been fond of highly-seasoned, rich dishes, such as macaroni
prepared by a skilful Neapolitan cook, the olla-podrida of the Spaniards,
the glutinous codfish from Newfoundland, game with a strong flavour, and
cheese the perfect state of which is attained when the tiny animaculae
formed from its very essence begin to shew signs of life. As for women, I
have always found the odour of my beloved ones exceeding pleasant.

What depraved tastes! some people will exclaim. Are you not ashamed to
confess such inclinations without blushing! Dear critics, you make me
laugh heartily. Thanks to my coarse tastes, I believe myself happier than
other men, because I am convinced that they enhance my enjoyment. Happy
are those who know how to obtain pleasures without injury to anyone;
insane are those who fancy that the Almighty can enjoy the sufferings,
the pains, the fasts and abstinences which they offer to Him as a