ou have read
my works you must have seen how I shew that superstition is the enemy of
kings."

"Read your works? I have read and re-read them, especially in places
where I have differed from you. Your ruling passion is the love of
humanity. 'Est ubi peccas'. This blinds you. Love humanity, but love it
as it is. It is not fit to receive the blessings you would lavish on it,
and which would only make it more wretched and perverse. Leave men their
devouring monster, it is dear to them. I have never laughed so heartily
as at Don Quixote assailed by the galley-slaves whom his generosity had
set free."

"I am sorry that you have such a bad opinion of your fellow-creatures.
And by the way, tell me whether there is freedom in Venice."

"As much as can be expected under an aristocracy. Our liberty is not so
great as that which the English enjoy, but we are content."

"Even under The Leads?"

"My imprisonment was certainly despotic; but as I had knowingly abused my
liberty I am satisfied that the Government was within its rights in
shutting me up without the usual formalities."

"All the same, you made your escape."

"I used my rights as they had used theirs."

"Very good! But as far as I can see, no one in Venice is really free."

"That may be; but you must agree that the essence of freedom consists in
thinking you have it."

"I shall not agree to that so easily. You and I see liberty from very
different points of view. The aristocrats, the members of the Government
even, are not free at Venice; for example, they cannot travel without
permission."

"True, but that is a restriction of their own making to preserve their
power. Would you say that a Bernese is not free, because he is subject to
the sumptuary laws, which he himself had made."

"Well, well, I wish the people made the laws everywhere."

After this lively answer, he abruptly asked me what part I came from.

"From Roche," said I. "I should have been very sorry to leave Switzerland
without seeing the famous Haller. In my travels I render homage to my
learned contemporaries, and you come the last and best."

"You must have liked Haller."

"I spent three of the happiest days of my life with him."

"I congratulate you. He is a great man and worthy of all honour."

"I think as you do, and I am glad to hear you doing him justice; I am
sorry he was not so just towards you."

"Well, you see we may be both of us mistaken."

At this reply, the quickness of