individually, to whom they speak; but they are addressing
themselves in your person to the four corners of Europe. Such
letters are empty, and teach as nothing but theatrical execution
and the favorite pose of their writers.

"I will not class among the latter the more prudent and sagacious
authors who, when writing to individuals, keep one eye on
posterity. We know that many who pursue this method have written
long, finished, charming, flattering, and tolerably natural
letters. Beranger furnishes us with the best example of this
class.

"Proudhon, however, is a man of entirely different nature and
habits. In writing, he thinks of nothing but his idea and the
person whom he addresses: ad rem et ad hominem. A man of
conviction and doctrine, to write does not weary him; to be
questioned does not annoy him. When approached, he cares only to
know that your motive is not one of futile curiosity, but the
love of truth; he assumes you to be serious, he replies, he
examines your objections, sometimes verbally, sometimes in
writing; for, as he remarks, `if there be some points which
correspondence can never settle, but which can be made clear by
conversation in two minutes, at other times just the opposite is
the case: an objection clearly stated in writing, a doubt well
expressed, which elicits a direct and positive reply, helps
things along more than ten hours of oral intercourse!' In
writing to you he does not hesitate to treat the subject anew; he
unfolds to you the foundation and superstructure of his thought:
rarely does he confess himself defeated--it is not his way; he
holds to his position, but admits the breaks, the variations, in