For my part, if any one should recommend me as a good pilot, as being very modest or very chaste, I should owe him no thanks; and so, whoever should call me traitor, robber, or drunkard, I should be as little concerned.  They who do not rightly know themselves, may feed themselves with false approbations; not I, who see myself, and who examine myself even to my very bowels, and who very well know what is my due.  I am content to be less commended, provided I am better known.  I may be reputed a wise man in such a sort of wisdom as I take to be folly.  I am vexed that my Essays only serve the ladies for a common piece of furniture, and a piece for the hall; this chapter will make me part of the water-closet.  I love to traffic with them a little in private; public conversation is without favour and without savour.  In farewells, we oftener than not heat our affections towards the things we take leave of; I take my last leave of the pleasures of this world:  these are our last embraces.

But let us come to my subject:  what has the act of generation, so natural, so necessary, and so just, done to men, to be a thing not to be spoken of without blushing, and to be excluded from all serious and moderate discourse?  We boldly pronounce kill, rob, betray, and that we dare only to do betwixt the teeth.  Is it to say, the less we expend in words, we may pay so much the more in thinking?  For it is certain that the words least in use, most seldom written, and best kept in, are the best and most generally known:  no age, no manners, are ignorant of them, no more than the word bread they imprint themselves in every one without being, expressed, without voice, and without figure; and the sex that most practises it is bound to say least of it.  ’Tis an act that we have placed in the franchise of silence, from which to take it is a crime even to accuse and judge it; neither dare we reprehend it but by periphrasis and picture.  A great favour to a criminal to be so execrable that justice thinks it unjust to touch and see him; free, and safe by the benefit of the severity of his condemnation.  Is it not here as in matter of books, that sell better and become more public for being suppressed?  For my part, I will take Aristotle at his word, who says, that “bashfulness is an ornament to youth, but a reproach to old age.”  These verses are preached in the ancient school, a school that I much more adhere to than the modern:  its virtues appear to me to be greater, and the vices less: 

“Ceux qui par trop fuyant Venus estrivent,
Faillent autant que ceulx qui trop la suyvent.”

["They err as much who too much forbear Venus, as they who are too
frequent in her rites.”—­A translation by Amyot from Plutarch, A
philosopher should converse with princes.]

“Tu, dea, rerum naturam sola gubernas,
Nec sine to quicquam dias in luminis oras
Exoritur, neque fit laetum, nec amabile quidquam.”

["Goddess, still thou alone governest nature, nor without thee
anything comes into light; nothing is pleasant, nothing joyful.” 
—­Lucretius, i. 22.]