give them nothing new by these rules, because they had them virtually, but confounded with a multitude of other false and useless ones, from which they could not discern them, as of those, who,―seeking a diamond of great value among a large number of false ones from which they could not distinguish it,-should boast of possessing the true one, because they held them all together, as truly as he, who, without regarding this worthless mass, places his hand upon the choice stone which they seek, and for which they retain all the rest.

The defect in false reasoning is an evil which may be removed, by the two remedies pointed out. Another one has been composed of an infinite number of useless herbs, with which the good are mingled, but which remain without effect, in consequence of the bad qualities of this mix

ture.

To discover all the sophisms and all the errors of captious reasoning, logicians have invented barbarous names, which are imposing to those who hear them; and since we can disentangle the many folds of this intricate knot, only by drawing out the two ends which geometers assign, logicians have marked off a great number of others in which these are included, without knowing which are the good ones.

And thus, by showing us a number of different ways, which they say conduct whither we wish to go, although there are only two which lead thither, and which it is necessary particularly to distinguish, it is pretended that geometry, which assigns them with certainty, gives only what we have already received from them; because they give the same thing and more, without perceiving that this

gift loses its value by its abundance, and is depreciated by being increased!

Nothing is more common than good things, the only question is how to discover them; and it is certain, that they are all natural and within our reach, and even known by all. But we do not know how to distinguish them. This is universal. It is not in things extraordinary and strange that excellence of whatever kind is found. We rise to reach it, and are further from it. Most frequently it is necessary to stoop for it. The best books are those which every reader thinks he which alone is good, is perfectly well known and common.

could have written; nature,

I think, therefore, that these rules, being the true ones, should be simple, plain and natural, as they are. It is not Barbara and Baralipton which form reasoning. We must not overstrain the mind; a strained and labored manner, by an unnatural elevation, and a vain and ridiculous swell, fills it with a foolish presumption, instead of solid and vigorous nourishment. One of the principal reasons which remove those who enter upon these pursuits, from the true way they ought to follow, is the idea they receive at first, from giving them the names, great, high, elevated, sublime, that good things are inaccessible. This is ruinous. I would call them low, common, familiar; these names suit them better; I hate swelling words.

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VIII.

Let man then rightly estimate himself. Let him love himself, for he has a nature capable of good; but yet let him not love the evils which he finds there. Let him despise himself, because this capacity is without an object; but let him not on that account despise the natural capacity itself. Let him both love and hate himself. There is in him the power of discerning truth, and of being happy, but he is not in possession of certain and satisfying truth. I would lead man to desire to find truth, to be free from passions, and ready to follow truth wherever he may find it; and, knowing how sadly his powers are clouded by his passions, I would wish him to hate in himself those passions which overrule his judgment, that henceforth they may not blind him in making his choice, nor impede his progress when he has chosen.

IX.

I blame with equal severity those who elevate man, those of who depress him, and those who think it right merely to divert him. I can approve of those only who seek in tears for happiness.

The Stoics say: Turn in upon yourselves, and there you will find your repose. This however is not true. Others J say: Go forth from yourselves, and seek for happiness in diversion. Neither is true. Disease will come. Alas! happiness is neither within us, nor without us, It is in the union of ourselves with God.

There are two ways of regarding human nature; one

according to the end of man, and then it is grand and in'comprehensible; the other according to his habits, as we judge of the nature of a horse or dog, by the habit of observing his going, and then man is abject and vile. It is owing to these two different ways that philosophers judge so differently, and dispute so keenly; for one denies what the other assumes. One says: Man is not born for this noble end, for all his actions are opposed to it. The other says: When he commits such base and groveling actions, he wanders from the end of his being. Instinct and experience, taken together, show to man the whole of what he is.

XI.

I feel that I might not have been; for when I speak of myself, I mean my thinking being; and I, who think, should not have been, if my mother had been killed before I was born. Therefore I am not a necessary being, nor am I eternal, nor infinite; but I see clearly, that there is in nature, a being who is necessary, eternal and infinite.

CHAPTER V.

VANITY OF MAN, AND EFFECTS OF SELF-LOVE.

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WE are not satisfied with the life that we have in ourselves, in our own peculiar being. We wish to live also an ideal life in the minds of others, and for this purpose, constrain ourselves to put on appearances. We labor incessantly to adorn and sustain this ideal being, while we

to be the object of men's love and esteem, and he sees that his imperfections deserve only their hatred and contempt. This state of disappointment generates in him the most wretched and criminal passion that can be imagined; for he conceives a deadly hatred against that truth which reproves him, and convinces him of his faults. He desires to destroy it, and unable to destroy it in its essential nature, he blots it out as far as possible from his own knowledge and from that of others; that is, he does his utmost to conceal his faults both from others and from himself, and will not suffer others to exhibit them to him, or to examine them themselves.

It is surely an evil to be full of faults; but it is a far greater evil, being full of them, to be unwilling to know them, since this is to add to them the guilt of a voluntary delusion. We do not like to be deceived by others; we do not think it right that they should wish to be esteemed by us beyond their deserts; it is not right, therefore, that we should deceive them, and that we should wish them to esteem us more than we deserve.

Therefore, when they discover in us nothing but the imperfections and vices which we really possess, it is evident that in this they do us no wrong, because they are not the cause of those errors; and that they even do us good, since they aid us in avoiding a real evil, the ignorance of these imperfections. We should not be indignant that they discover these errors if they really exist, nor that they should know us to be what we really are, and despise us, if we are really despicable.

These are the thoughts that would rise spontaneously in a heart full of equity and justice. What then shall we say of our own, when we see its disposition to be just the re