him, if I think him worthy of imitation, I may imitate him.  Every man may speak truly, but to speak methodically, prudently, and fully, is a talent that few men have.  The falsity that proceeds from ignorance does not offend me, but the foppery of it.  I have broken off several treaties that would have been of advantage to me, by reason of the impertinent contestations of those with whom I treated.  I am not moved once in a year at the faults of those over whom I have authority, but upon the account of the ridiculous obstinacy of their allegations, denials, excuses, we are every day going together by the ears; they neither understand what is said, nor why, and answer accordingly; ’tis enough to drive a man mad.  I never feel any hurt upon my head but when ’tis knocked against another, and more easily forgive the vices of my servants than their boldness, importunity, and folly; let them do less, provided they understand what they do:  you live in hope to warm their affection to your service, but there is nothing to be had or to be expected from a stock.

But what, if I take things otherwise than they are?  Perhaps I do; and therefore it is that I accuse my own impatience, and hold, in the first place, that it is equally vicious both in him that is in the right, and in him that is in the wrong; for ’tis always a tyrannic sourness not to endure a form contrary to one’s own:  and, besides, there cannot, in truth, be a greater, more constant, nor more irregular folly than to be moved and angry at the follies of the world, for it principally makes us quarrel with ourselves; and the old philosopher never wanted an occasion for his tears whilst he considered himself.  Miso, one of the seven sages, of a Timonian and Democritic humour, being asked, “what he laughed at, being alone?”—­“That I do laugh alone,” answered he.  How many ridiculous things, in my own opinion, do I say and answer every day that comes over my head? and then how many more, according to the opinion of others?  If I bite my own lips, what ought others to do?  In fine, we must live amongst the living, and let the river run under the bridge without our care, or, at least, without our interference.  In truth, why do we meet a man with a hunch-back, or any other deformity, without being moved, and cannot endure the encounter of a deformed mind without being angry? this vicious sourness sticks more to the judge than to the crime.  Let us always have this saying of Plato in our mouths:  “Do not I think things unsound, because I am not sound in myself?  Am I not myself in fault? may not my observations reflect upon myself?”—­a wise and divine saying, that lashes the most universal and common error of mankind.  Not only the reproaches that we throw in the face of one another, but our reasons also, our arguments and controversies, are reboundable upon us, and we wound ourselves with our own weapons:  of which antiquity has left me enough grave examples.  It was ingeniously and home-said by him, who was the inventor of this sentence: