May we not include under the title of conference and communication the quick and sharp repartees which mirth and familiarity introduce amongst friends, pleasantly and wittily jesting and rallying with one another?  ’Tis an exercise for which my natural gaiety renders me fit enough, and which, if it be not so tense and serious as the other I spoke of but now, is, as Lycurgus thought, no less smart and ingenious, nor of less utility.  For my part, I contribute to it more liberty than wit, and have therein more of luck than invention; but I am perfect in suffering, for I endure a retaliation that is not only tart, but indiscreet to boot, without being moved at all; and whoever attacks me, if I have not a brisk answer immediately ready, I do not study to pursue the point with a tedious and impertinent contest, bordering upon obstinacy, but let it pass, and hanging down cheerfully my ears, defer my revenge to another and better time:  there is no merchant that always gains:  Most men change their countenance and their voice where their wits fail, and by an unseasonable anger, instead of revenging themselves, accuse at once their own folly and impatience.  In this jollity, we sometimes pinch the secret strings of our imperfections which, at another and graver time, we cannot touch without offence, and so profitably give one another a hint of our defects.  There are other jeux de main,—­[practical jokes]—­rude and indiscreet, after the French manner, that I mortally hate; my skin is very tender and sensible:  I have in my time seen two princes of the blood buried upon that very account.  ’Tis unhandsome to fight in play.  As to the rest, when I have a mind to judge of any one, I ask him how far he is contented with himself; to what degree his speaking or his work pleases him.  I will none of these fine excuses, “I did it only in sport,

‘Ablatum mediis opus est incudibus istud.’

          ["That work was taken from the anvil half finished.” 
          —­Ovid, Trist., i. 6, 29.]

I was not an hour about it:  I have never looked at it since.”  Well, then, say I, lay these aside, and give me a perfect one, such as you would be measured by.  And then, what do you think is the best thing in your work? is it this part or that? is it grace or the matter, the invention, the judgment, or the learning?  For I find that men are, commonly, as wide of the mark in judging of their own works, as of those of others; not only by reason of the kindness they have for them, but for want of capacity to know and distinguish them:  the work, by its own force and fortune, may second the workman, and sometimes outstrip him, beyond his invention and knowledge.  For my part, I judge of the value of other men’s works more obscurely than of my own; and place the Essays, now high, or low, with great doubt and inconstancy.  There are several books that are useful upon the account of their subjects, from which the author derives no praise; and good books, as well as good works, that