nevertheless, this counsel was not so much an election as a multiplication of vice.  Upon which let us say this in passing, that we deal liberally with a man of conscience when we propose to him some difficulty in counterpoise of vice; but when we shut him up betwixt two vices, he is put to a hard choice as Origen was either to idolatrise or to suffer himself to be carnally abused by a great Ethiopian slave they brought to him.  He submitted to the first condition, and wrongly, people say.  Yet those women of our times are not much out, according to their error, who protest they had rather burden their consciences with ten men than one mass.

If it be indiscretion so to publish one’s errors, yet there is no great danger that it pass into example and custom; for Ariston said, that the winds men most fear are those that lay them open.  We must tuck up this ridiculous rag that hides our manners:  they send their consciences to the stews, and keep a starched countenance:  even traitors and assassins espouse the laws of ceremony, and there fix their duty.  So that neither can injustice complain of incivility, nor malice of indiscretion.  ’Tis pity but a bad man should be a fool to boot, and that outward decency should palliate his vice:  this rough-cast only appertains to a good and sound wall, that deserves to be preserved and whited.

In favour of the Huguenots, who condemn our auricular and private confession, I confess myself in public, religiously and purely:  St. Augustin, Origeti, and Hippocrates have published the errors of their opinions; I, moreover, of my manners.  I am greedy of making myself known, and I care not to how many, provided it be truly; or to say better, I hunger for nothing; but I mortally hate to be mistaken by those who happen to learn my name.  He who does all things for honour and glory, what can he think to gain by shewing himself to the world in a vizor, and by concealing his true being from the people?  Praise a humpback for his stature, he has reason to take it for an affront:  if you are a coward, and men commend you for your valour, is it of you they speak?  They take you for another.  I should like him as well who glorifies himself in the compliments and congees that are made him as if he were master of the company, when he is one of the least of the train.  Archelaus, king of Macedon, walking along the street, somebody threw water on his head, which they who were with him said he ought to punish:  “Aye, but,” said he, “whoever it was, he did not throw the water upon me, but upon him whom he took me to be.”  Socrates being told that people spoke ill of him, “Not at all,” said he, “there is nothing, in me of what they say.”