verse? For is it not true, that we hate the truth and those who tell it to us, and that we like to have men deceived in our favor, and wish to be considered by them as very different from what we really are?

Here is a proof of it which astonishes me. The catholic religion does not oblige its professors to disclose their sins indifferently to everybody; it allows them to be concealed from all men, with the exception of one, to whom it requires them to reveal the secrets of their hearts, and to make themselves known as they really are. There is only this one man, in all the world, whom it commands them to undeceive, and it requires of him an inviolable secrecy, so that this knowledge remains in him, the same as though it were not disclosed. Can we imagine anything more indulgent? And yet the corruption of man is such, that he considers even this requirement hard; and this is one of the principal reasons which has caused the greater part of Europe to revolt from the church.

How unjust and unreasonable is the heart of man, to take it ill that he is obliged to do, in regard to one man, what would be right that he should do, in some degree, in regard to all men! For is it right that we should deceive them?

There are different degrees of this aversion to truth; but we may affirm that, in some degree, it exists in every one, because it is inseparable from self-love. It is this sensitiveness to applause, which compels those whose duty it is to reprove another, to soften the severity of the shock, by so many circuitous and alleviating expressions. They must appear to attenuate the fault; they must seem to excuse what they mean to reprove; they must mix with the correction the language of praise, and the assurances of af

fection and esteem. Yet still this medicine is always bitter to self-love. We take as little of it as we can, always with disgust, and often with a secret pique against those who presume to administer it.

Hence it is, that those who have any interest in securing our regard, shrink from the performance of an office which they know to be disagreeable to us; they treat us as we wish to be treated; we hate the truth, and they conceal it; we wish to be flattered, and they flatter us; we love to be deceived, and they deceive us.

And hence it arises, that each step of good fortune by which we are elevated in the world, removes us further from truth, because men fear to annoy others, just in proportion as their good will is likely to be useful, or their dislike dangerous. A prince may be the talk of all Europe, and he only know it not. I do not wonder at this. To speak the truth is useful to him to whom it is spoken, but sadly the reverse to him who speaks it, for it makes him hated. Now those who live with princes, love their own interests better than that of him whom they serve, and do not therefore care to seek his benefit by telling him the truth to their own injury.

This evil is doubtless more serious and more common, in cases of rank and fortune, but the very lowest are not free from it; because there is always some benefit to be obtained by means of man's esteem. Thus human life is nothing but a perpetual delusion, and nothing goes on but mutual flattery and mutual deceit. No one speaks of us in our presence as he does in our absence. The degree of union that there is among men, is founded only upon this mutual deception, and few friendships would subsist, if each one knew what his friend says of him when he is not

present, although he then speaks sincerely and without prejudice.

Man, then, is nothing but disguise, falsehood and hypocrisy, both towards himself and others. He does not wish them to tell him the truth, he will not tell it to them; and all these dispositions, so far removed from justice and sound reason, have their root naturally in his heart.

CHAPTER VI.

WEAKNESS OF MAN, AND UNCERTAINTY OF HIS NATURAL

UNDERSTANDING.

I.

THAT which astonishes me most is, that no man is astonished at his own weakness. Men act seriously, and each one follows his occupation, not because it is actually good to follow it, since that is the custom, but as if each one knew precisely where to find reason and justice. Each one, however, finds himself repeatedly deceived, and yet, by a foolish humility, thinks that the failure is in his own conduct, and not in the faculty of discerning the truth, of which he continually boasts. It is well that there are so many of these persons in the world, since they serve to show that man is capable of holding the most extravagant opinions, inasmuch as he can believe that he is not naturally and inevitably in a state of moral weakness, but that, on the contrary, he has naturally wisdom adequate to his circumstances.

II.

The weakness of human reason appears more evidently, in those who know it not, than in those who know it. He who is too young will not judge wisely, neither will he that is too old. If we think too little or too much on a subject, are equally bewildered, and cannot discover the truth. If a man reviews his work directly after he has done it, he is pre-occupied by the lively impression of it; if he reviews it a long time after, he can scarcely get into the spirit of it again.

There is but one indivisible point from which we should look at a picture; all others are too near, too distant, too high or too low. Perspective fixes this point precisely in the art of painting; but who shall fix it in regard to truth and morals?

III.

That queen of error, whom we call fancy and opinion, is the more deceitful because she does not always deceive. She would be the infallible rule of truth if she were the infallible rule of falsehood; but being only most frequently in error, she gives no evidence of her real quality, for she marks with the same character both that which is true and that which is false.

This haughty power, the enemy of reason, and whose delight it is to keep it in subjection, in order to show what influence she has in all things, has established in man a second nature. She has her happy and her unhappy subjects, her sick and her healthy ones, her rich and her poor, her fools and.her sages; and nothing is more distressing than to see that she fills her guests with a far more ample

satisfaction than reason gives; since those who think themselves wise, have a delight in themselves, far beyond that in which the really prudent dare to indulge. They treat other men imperiously; they dispute with fierceness and assurance, whilst others do so with fear and caution; and this satisfied air often gives them advantage in the opinion of the hearers; so much do those who imagine themselves wise find favor among judges of the same kind. Opinion cannot make fools wise, but she makes them contented, to the great disparagement of reason, who can only make her friends wretched. The one covers her votaries with glory, the other with shame.

Who confers reputation? who gives respect and veneration to persons, to books, to great men? Who but opinion? How utterly insufficient are all the riches of the world without her approbation!

Opinion settles everything. She constitutes beauty, justice and happiness, which is the whole of this world. I would like much to see that Italian work, of which I have heard only the title: "Opinion, the Queen of the World."* It alone is worth many other books. Isubscribe to it without knowing it, error excepted, if there is any.

IV.

The most important concern in life, is the choice of an occupation; yet chance seems to decide it. Custom makes masons, soldiers, bricklayers, etc. That is an excellent bricklayer, says one; and speaking of soldiers: What fools those men are; others again: There is nothing noble but war, and all men but soldiers are contemptible. And according as men, during their childhood, have heard some

* Della Opinione, Regina del Mondo.