his advice, if not believed, and takes it for an affront if it be not immediately followed.  That Socrates always received smilingly the contradictions offered to his arguments, a man may say arose from his strength of reason; and that, the advantage being certain to fall on his side, he accepted them as a matter of new victory.  But we see, on the contrary, that nothing in argument renders our sentiment so delicate, as the opinion of pre-eminence, and disdain of the adversary; and that, in reason, ’tis rather for the weaker to take in good part the oppositions that correct him and set him right.  In earnest, I rather choose the company of those who ruffle me than of those who fear me; ’tis a dull and hurtful pleasure to have to do with people who admire us and approve of all we say.  Antisthenes commanded his children never to take it kindly or for a favour, when any man commended them.  I find I am much prouder of the victory I obtain over myself, when, in the very ardour of dispute, I make myself submit to my adversary’s force of reason, than I am pleased with the victory I obtain over him through his weakness.  In fine, I receive and admit of all manner of attacks that are direct, how weak soever; but I am too impatient of those that are made out of form.  I care not what the subject is, the opinions are to me all one, and I am almost indifferent whether I get the better or the worse.  I can peaceably argue a whole day together, if the argument be carried on with method; I do not so much require force and subtlety as order; I mean the order which we every day observe in the wranglings of shepherds and shop-boys, but never amongst us:  if they start from their subject, ’tis out of incivility, and so ’tis with us; but their tumult and impatience never put them out of their theme; their argument still continues its course; if they interrupt, and do not stay for one another, they at least understand one another.  Any one answers too well for me, if he answers what I say:  when the dispute is irregular and disordered, I leave the thing itself, and insist upon the form with anger and indiscretion; falling into wilful, malicious, and imperious way of disputation, of which I am afterwards ashamed.  ’Tis impossible to deal fairly with a fool:  my judgment is not only corrupted under the hand of so impetuous a master, but my conscience also.

Our disputes ought to be interdicted and punished as well as other verbal crimes:  what vice do they not raise and heap up, being always governed and commanded by passion?  We first quarrel with their reasons, and then with the men.  We only learn to dispute that we may contradict; and so, every one contradicting and being contradicted, it falls out that the fruit of disputation is to lose and annihilate truth.  Therefore it is that Plato in his Republic prohibits this exercise to fools and ill-bred people.  To what end do you go about to inquire of him, who knows nothing to the purpose?  A man does no