Chapter XXVI. That it is folly to measure truth and error by our own capacity. 'Tis not, perhaps, without reason, that we attribute facility of belief and easiness of persuasion to simplicity and ignorance: for I fancy I have heard belief compared to the impression of a seal upon the soul, which by how much softer and of less resistance it is, is the more easy to be impressed upon. "Ut necesse est, lancem in Libra, ponderibus impositis, deprimi, sic animum perspicuis cedere." ["As the scale of the balance must give way to the weight that presses it down, so the mind yields to demonstration." --Cicero, Acad., ii. 12.] By how much the soul is more empty and without counterpoise, with so much greater facility it yields under the weight of the first persuasion. And this is the reason that children, the common people, women, and sick folks, are most apt to be led by the ears. But then, on the other hand, 'tis a foolish presumption to slight and condemn all things for false that do not appear to us probable; which is the ordinary vice of such as fancy themselves wiser than their neighbours. I was myself once one of those; and if I heard talk of dead folks walking, of prophecies, enchantments, witchcrafts, or any other story I had no mind to believe: "Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas, Nocturnos lemures, portentaque Thessala," ["Dreams, magic terrors, marvels, sorceries, Thessalian prodigies." --Horace. Ep. ii. 3, 208.] I presently pitied the poor people that were abused by these follies. Whereas I now find, that I myself was to be pitied as much, at least, as they; not that experience has taught me anything to alter my former opinions, though my curiosity has endeavoured that way; but reason has instructed me, that thus resolutely to condemn anything for false and impossible, is arrogantly and impiously to circumscribe and limit the will of God, and the power of our mother nature, within the bounds of my own capacity, than which no folly can be greater. If we give the names of monster and miracle to everything our reason cannot comprehend, how many are continually presented before our eyes? Let us but consider through what clouds, and as it were groping in the dark, our teachers lead us to the knowledge of most of the things about us; assuredly we shall find that it is rather custom than knowledge that takes away their strangeness-- "Jam nemo, fessus saturusque videndi, Suspicere in coeli dignatur lucida templa;" ["Weary of the sight, now no one deigns to look up to heaven's lucid temples."--Lucretius, ii. 1037. The text has 'statiate videnai'] and that if those things were now newly presented to us, we should think them as incredible, if not more, than any others. "Si nunc primum mortalibus adsint Ex improviso, si sint objecta repente, Nil magis his rebus poterat mirabile dici, Aute minus ante quod auderent fore credere gentes." [Lucretius, ii. 1032. The sense of the passage is in the preceding sentence.] He that had never seen a river, imagined the first he met with to be the sea; and the greatest things that have fallen within our knowledge, we conclude the extremes that nature makes of the kind.