ised it.

"The confessions of the Sicilian left a deeper impression upon his mind
than they ought, considering the circumstances; and the small victory
which his reason had thence gained over this weak imposture, remarkably
increased his reliance upon his own powers. The facility with which he
had been able to unravel this deception appeared to have surprised him.
Truth and error were not yet so accurately distinguished from each other
in his mind but that he often mistook the arguments which were in favor
of the one for those in favor of the other. Thence it arose that the
same blow which destroyed his faith in wonders made the whole edifice of
it totter. In this instance, he fell into the same error as an
inexperienced man who has been deceived in love or friendship, because
he happened to make a bad choice, and who denies the existence of these
sensations, because he takes the occasional exceptions for
distinguishing features. The unmasking of a deception made even truth
suspicious to him, because he had unfortunately discovered truth by
false reasoning.

"This imaginary triumph pleased him in proportion to the magnitude of
the oppression from which it seemed to deliver him. From this instant
there arose in his mind a scepticism which did not spare even the most
sacred objects.

"Many circumstances concurred to encourage, and still more to confirm,
him in this turn of mind. He now quitted the retirement in which he had
hitherto lived, and gave way to a more dissipated mode of life. His
rank was discovered; attentions which he was obliged to return,
etiquettes for which he was indebted to his rank, drew him imperceptibly
within the vortex of the great world. His rank, as well as his personal
attractions, opened to him the circles of all the beaux esprits in
Venice, and he soon found himself on terms of intimacy with the most
enlightened persons in the republic, men of learning as well as
politicians. This obliged him to en large the monotonous and limited
circle to which his understanding had hitherto been confined. He began
to perceive the poverty and feebleness of his ideas, and to feel the
want of more elevated impressions. The old-fashioned turn of his
understanding, in spite of the many advantages with which it was
accompanied, formed an unpleasing contrast with the current ideas of
society; his ignorance of the commonest things frequently exposed him to
ridicule, than which he dreaded nothing more. The unfort