“Seu plures calor ille vias et caeca relaxat
               Spiramenta, novas veniat qua succus in herbas
               Seu durat magis, et venas astringit hiantes;
               Ne tenues pluviae, rapidive potentia colic
               Acrior, aut Boreae penetrabile frigus adurat.”

["Whether the heat opens more passages and secret pores through which the sap may be derived into the new-born herbs; or whether it rather hardens and binds the gaping veins that the small showers and keen influence of the violent sun or penetrating cold of Boreas may not hurt them.”—­Virg., Georg., i. 89.]

“Ogni medaglia ha il suo rovescio.”

          ["Every medal has its reverse.”—­Italian Proverb.]

This is the reason why Clitomachus said of old that Carneades had outdone the labours of Hercules, in having eradicated consent from men, that is to say, opinion and the courage of judging.  This so vigorous fancy of Carneades sprang, in my opinion, anciently from the impudence of those who made profession of knowledge and their immeasurable self-conceit.  AEsop was set to sale with two other slaves; the buyer asked the first of these what he could do; he, to enhance his own value, promised mountains and marvels, saying he could do this and that, and I know not what; the second said as much of himself or more:  when it came to AEsop’s turn, and that he was also asked what he could do; “Nothing,” said he, “for these two have taken up all before me; they know everything.”  So has it happened in the school of philosophy:  the pride of those who attributed the capacity of all things to the human mind created in others, out of despite and emulation, this opinion, that it is capable of nothing:  the one maintain the same extreme in ignorance that the others do in knowledge; to make it undeniably manifest that man is immoderate throughout, and can never stop but of necessity and the want of ability to proceed further.

CHAPTER XII

OF PHYSIOGNOMY

Almost all the opinions we have are taken on authority and trust; and ’tis not amiss; we could not choose worse than by ourselves in so weak an age.  That image of Socrates’ discourses, which his friends have transmitted to us, we approve upon no other account than a reverence to public sanction:  ’tis not according to our own knowledge; they are not after our way; if anything of the kind should spring up now, few men would value them.  We discern no graces that are not pointed and puffed out and inflated by art; such as glide on in their own purity and simplicity easily escape so gross a sight as ours; they have a delicate and concealed beauty, such as requires a clear and purified sight to discover its secret light.  Is not simplicity, as we take it, cousin-german to folly and a quality of reproach?  Socrates makes his soul move a natural and common motion:  a peasant said this;