CHAPTER XIV.
THE GREAT OBSTACLE TO IMPROVEMENT.
The Genius ceased.

But preoccupied with melancholy thoughts, my mind resisted persuasion; fearing, however, to shock him by my resistance, I remained silent.

After a while, turning to me with a look which pierced my soul, he said: Thou art silent, and thy heart is agitated with thoughts which it dares not utter.
At last, troubled and terrified, I replied: O Genius, pardon my weakness.

Doubtless thy mouth can utter nothing but truth; but thy celestial intelligence can seize its rays, where my gross faculties can discern nothing but clouds.

I confess it; conviction has not penetrated my soul, and I feared that my doubts might offend thee.
And what is doubt, replied he, that it should be a crime?
Can man feel otherwise than as he is affected?
If a truth be palpable, and of importance in practice, let us pity him that misconceives it.
His punishment will arise from his blindness.