"Diderot," said Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, "is an extraordinary man; he is out of his place in society; he was meant for the chief of a sect, a Greek philosopher, instructing youth.

He pleases me greatly, but his manner does not touch my soul."[225] And we understand this.

People disputed what virtue is, but the dispute failed in that undefined spirit which makes men love and adore virtue.

Goodness is surrounded with no spacious beauty, it is clothed with none of the high associations of spontaneous piety.

The discussion seems close, stifling, and airless.