of not understanding it, to try, on all parts, how it is lodged in the author.  It may happen that we entangle ourselves, and help to strengthen the point itself.  I have sometimes, in the necessity and heat of the combat, made answers that have gone through and through, beyond my expectation or hope; I only gave them in number, they were received in weight.  As, when I contend with a vigorous man, I please myself with anticipating his conclusions, I ease him of the trouble of explaining himself, I strive to forestall his imagination whilst it is yet springing and imperfect; the order and pertinency of his understanding warn and threaten me afar off:  I deal quite contrary with the others; I must understand, and presuppose nothing but by them.  If they determine in general words, “this is good, that is naught,” and that they happen to be in the right, see if it be not fortune that hits it off for them:  let them a little circumscribe and limit their judgment; why, or how, it is so.  These universal judgments that I see so common, signify nothing; these are men who salute a whole people in a crowd together; they, who have a real acquaintance, take notice of and salute them individually and by name.  But ’tis a hazardous attempt; and from which I have, more than every day, seen it fall out, that weak understandings, having a mind to appear ingenious, in taking notice, as they read a book, of what is best and most to be admired, fix their admiration upon some thing so very ill chosen, that instead of making us discern the excellence of the author; they make us very well see their own ignorance.  This exclamation is safe, “That is fine,” after having heard a whole page of Virgil; by that the cunning sort save themselves; but to undertake to follow him line by line, and, with an expert and tried judgment, to observe where a good author excels himself, weighing the words, phrases, inventions, and his various excellences, one after another; keep aloof from that: 

     “Videndum est, non modo quid quisque loquatur, sed etiam quid
     quisque sentiat, atque etiam qua de causa quisque sentiat.”

     ["A man is not only to examine what every one says, but also what
     every one thinks, and from what reason every one thinks.” 
     —­Cicero, De Offic:, i. 41.]

I every day hear fools say things that are not foolish:  they say a good thing; let us examine how far they understand it, whence they have it, and what they mean by it.  We help them to make use of this fine expression, of this fine sentence, which is none of theirs; they only have it in keeping; they have bolted it out at a venture; we place it for them in credit and esteem.  You lend them your hand.  To what purpose? they do not think themselves obliged to you for it, and become more inept still.  Don’t help them; let them alone; they will handle the matter like people who are afraid of burning their fingers; they dare change neither its seat nor light,