’Tis a natural progress; for whoever believes anything, thinks it a work of charity to persuade another into the same opinion; which the better to do, he will make no difficulty of adding as much of his own invention as he conceives necessary to his tale to encounter the resistance or want of conception he meets with in others.  I myself, who make a great conscience of lying, and am not very solicitous of giving credit and authority to what I say, yet find that in the arguments I have in hand, being heated with the opposition of another, or by the proper warmth of my own narration, I swell and puff up my subject by voice, motion, vigour, and force of words, and moreover, by extension and amplification, not without some prejudice to the naked truth; but I do it conditionally withal, that to the first who brings me to myself, and who asks me the plain and bare truth, I presently surrender my passion, and deliver the matter to him without exaggeration, without emphasis, or any painting of my own.  A quick and earnest way of speaking, as mine is, is apt to run into hyperbole.  There is nothing to which men commonly are more inclined than to make way for their own opinions; where the ordinary means fail us, we add command, force, fire, and sword.  ’Tis a misfortune to be at such a pass, that the best test of truth is the multitude of believers in a crowd, where the number of fools so much exceeds the wise: 

     “Quasi vero quidquam sit tam valde, quam nil sapere, vulgare.”

          ["As if anything were so common as ignorance.” 
          —­Cicero, De Divin., ii.]

          “Sanitatis patrocinium est, insanientium turba.”

     ["The multitude of fools is a protection to the wise.” 
     —­St. Augustine, De Civit.  Dei, vi. 10.]

’Tis hard to resolve a man’s judgment against the common opinions:  the first persuasion, taken from the very subject itself, possesses the simple, and from them diffuses itself to the wise, under the authority of the number and antiquity of the witnesses.  For my part, what I should not believe from one, I should not believe from a hundred and one:  and I do not judge opinions by years.

’Tis not long since one of our princes, in whom the gout had spoiled an excellent nature and sprightly disposition, suffered himself to be so far persuaded with the report made to him of the marvellous operations of a certain priest who by words and gestures cured all sorts of diseases, as to go a long journey to seek him out, and by the force of his mere imagination, for some hours so persuaded and laid his legs asleep, as to obtain that service from them they had long time forgotten.  Had fortune heaped up five or six such-like incidents, it had been enough to have brought this miracle into nature.  There was afterwards discovered so much simplicity and so little art in the author of these performances, that he was thought too contemptible to be punished, as would be thought of most such things, were they well examined: