Now, although I do no more than simply report and faithfully quote
their own words, yet I am apprehensive lest my letter should fall into
the hands of some stray genius who may take into his head that I
have done you injury, and may draw some mischievous conclusion from
your premisses."
"Away!" cried the monk; "no fear of danger from that quarter, I'll
give you my word for it. Know that what our fathers have themselves
printed, with the approbation of our superiors, it cannot be wrong
to read nor dangerous to publish."
I write you, therefore, on the faith of this worthy father's
word of honour. But, in the meantime, I must stop for want of paper-
not of passages; for I have got as many more in reserve, and good ones
too, as would require volumes to contain them. I am, &c.
LETTER VIII
Paris, May 28, 1656
SIR,
You did not suppose that anybody would have the curiosity to
know who we were; but it seems there are people who are trying to make
it out, though they are not very happy in their conjectures. Some take
me for a doctor of the Sorbonne; others ascribe my letters to four
or five persons, who, like me, are neither priests nor Churchmen.
All these false surmises convince me that I have succeeded pretty well
in my object, which was to conceal myself from all but yourself and
the worthy monk, who still continues to bear with my visits, while I
still contrive, though with considerable difficulty, to bear with
his conversations.
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