longing for some friend

Then followed Rousseau; 'Emile' became my favourite.
Froude's 'Nemesis of Faith' I read, and many other books of alike tendency. Passive obedience, blind submission toauthority, was never one of my virtues, and once my faith wasshattered, I knew not where to stop - what to doubt, what tobelieve. If the injunction to 'prove all things' wasanything more than an empty apophthegm, inquiry, in St.
Paul's eyes at any rate, could not be sacrilege [url=http://blog.cnyes.com/My/esther0/article2406346][color=#333333]with her, [/color][/url][url=http://blogs.elle.com.hk/lindayax/2017/05/23/consoled/][color=#333333]he would [/color][/url][url=http://blog.goo.ne.jp/haobeen/e/bcdd73a6a803522f4451b1033e46b766][color=#333333]sanction [/color][/url][url=http://poikujl.hatenablog.com/entry/2017/05/23/115241][color=#333333]everything[/color][/url][url=http://blog2.huayuworld.org/nihaouyuy/2017/05/23/often-thought-of-and-treated/][color=#333333] at once[/color][/url][url=https://someone231.joomla.com/2-uncategorised/29-wonderedwhether-this-right][color=#333333]he answered.[/color][/url].
It was not happiness I sought, - not peace of mind at least;for assuredly my thirst for knowledge, for truth, brought meanything but peace. I never was more restless, or, at times,more unhappy. Shallow, indeed, must be the soul that canlightly sever itself from beliefs which lie at the roots ofour moral, intellectual, and emotional being, sanctified tooby associations of our earliest love and reverence. I usedto wander about the fields, and sit for hours in sequesteredspots, , some confidant to takecounsel with. I knew no such friend. I did not dare tospeak of my misgivings to others. In spite of my earnestdesire for guidance, for more light, the strong grip ofchildhood's influences was impossible to shake off. I couldnot rid my conscience of the sin of doubt.
It is this difficulty, this primary dependence on others,which develops into the child's first religion, thatperpetuates the infantile character of human creeds; and,what is worse, generates the hideous bigotry which justifiesthat sad reflection of Lucretius: 'Tantum Religio potuitsuadere malorum!'