“`Do not be alarmed,’ said I, perceiving that I had almost offended his zealous feelings of devotion. `I only wish to say, that there is no more unsuccessful method of weaning man’s heart from love, than by endeavouring to decry its enjoyments, and by promising him more pleasure from the exercise of virtue.  It is an inherent principle in our nature, that our felicity consists only in pleasure.  I defy you to conceive any other notion of it; and it requires little time to arrive at the conviction, that, of all pleasures, those of love are immeasurably the most enchanting.  A man quickly discerns the delusion, when he hears the promise made of livelier enjoyment, and the effect of such misrepresentation is only to make him doubt the truth of a more solid promise.

“`Let the preacher who seeks the reformation of a sinner tell me that virtue is indispensably necessary, but not disguise its difficulty and its attendant denials.  Say that the enjoyments of love are fleeting, if you will, that they are rigidly forbidden, that they lead with certainty to eternal suffering; and, what would assuredly make a deeper impression upon me than any other argument, say that the more sweet and delectable they are, the brighter will be the reward of Heaven for giving them up in sacrifice; but do in the name of justice admit, that, constituted as the heart of man is, they form here, on earth, our most perfect happiness.’

“My last sentence restored to Tiberge his good humour.  He allowed that my ideas were not altogether so unreasonable.  The only point he made, was in asking me why I did not carry my own principle into operation, by sacrificing my passion to the hope of that remuneration of which I had drawn so brilliant a picture. `Oh! my dear friend,’ replied I; `that it is which makes me conscious of my own misery and weakness:  true, alas! it is indeed my duty to act according to my argument; but have I the power of governing my own actions?  What aid will enable me to forget Manon’s charms?’ ‘God forgive me,’ said Tiberge, `I can almost fancy you a Jansenist[1]. `I know not of what sect I am,’ replied I, `nor do I indeed very clearly see to which I ought to belong; but I cannot help feeling the truth of this at least of their tenets.’

[1] The first proposition of the Jansenists was, that there are divine precepts which good men, notwithstanding their desire to observe them, are nevertheless absolutely unable to obey:  God not having given them such a measure of grace as is essentially necessary to render them capable of obedience.—­Mosheim’s Eccles.  Hist., ii. 397.

“One effect of our conversation was to revive my friend’s pity for me in all its force.  He perceived that there was in my errors more of weakness than of vice; and he was the more disposed in the end to give me assistance; without which I should infallibly have perished from distress of mind.  However, I carefully concealed from him my intention of escaping from St. Lazare.  I merely begged of him to take charge of my letter; I had it ready before he came, and I soon found an excuse for the necessity of writing.  He faithfully transmitted it, and Lescaut received before evening the one I had enclosed for him.