He said his
little "piece" to Clerambault without too many mistakes, and appeared
to believe it; perhaps he did while the words were on his lips. Why
not? He was a sort of pacifist himself from time to time; it depended
on the direction of the wind, or the attitude of certain of his
brother-writers whom he sometimes followed, and occasionally opposed.
Clerambault could never cure himself of a childlike trust in anyone
who came to him, and he allowed himself to be touched;--besides, the
press of his country had not spoiled him of late, so he poured out the
inmost thoughts of his heart, while Thouron took it all in with the
deepest interest.
An acquaintance thus closely formed could not, of course, stop there;
letters were exchanged, in which one spoke, and the other led him on.
Thouron persuaded Clerambault to put his ideas in the form of little
popular pamphlets, which he undertook to distribute among the working
classes. Clerambault hesitated, and refused at first. The partisans of
the reigning order and injustice pretend hypocritically to disapprove
of the secret propaganda of a new truth; Clerambault saw no harm in
it, when no other way was possible. (All persecuted faiths have their
catacombs.) But he did not feel himself suited to such a course of
action.
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