Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - II. St. Louis Leads Me to Orfila
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As I crossed over the square before the little
church of the Sorbonne, I found the door of it
open and entered it, without any definite reason;
the Virgin Mother and Child smiled at me in
a friendly way; the Cross left me, as always,
cold and without comprehension of its meaning.
My new acquaintance, St. Louis, the friend of
the poor and plague-stricken, receives the homage
of young theologians. Can it be, after all, that
he is my patron, my guardian angel, who drove
me to the hospital, so that I, purified by the fire
of mental suffering, should win again that glory
which leads to dishonour and contempt? Was
it he who directed me to Blanchard’s book-shop
and hither also? See how superstitious the
atheist has become!
As I survey the memorial tablets which record
successful experiments, I vow, in the case of my
success, to receive no worldly honour.
The hour has struck, and I run the gauntlet
of the young students who regard my undertaking
with scorn and prejudice.
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