ii. 3, 13.]

wherefore I say unreservedly, events are a very poor testimony of our
worth and parts.

Now, I was upon this point, that there needs no more but to see a man
promoted to dignity; though we knew him but three days before a man of
little regard, yet an image of grandeur of sufficiency insensibly steals
into our opinion, and we persuade ourselves that, being augmented in
reputation and train, he is also increased in merit; we judge of him, not
according to his worth, but as we do by counters, according to the
prerogative of his place. If it happen so that he fall again, and be
mixed with the common crowd, every one inquires with amazement into the
cause of his having been raised so high. "Is this he," say they, "was he
no wiser when he was there? Do princes satisfy themselves with so
little? Truly, we were in good hands." This is a thing that I have
often seen in my time. Nay, even the very disguise of grandeur
represented in our comedies in some sort moves and gulls us. That which
I myself adore in kings is the crowd of their adorers; all reverence and
submission are due to them, except that of the understanding: my reason
is not obliged to bow and bend; my knees are. Melanthius being asked
what he thought of the tragedy of Dionysius, "I could not see it," said
he, "it was so clouded with language"; so most of those who judge of the
discourses of great men ought to say, "I did not understand his words,
they were so clouded with gravity, grandeur, and majesty." Antisthenes
one day tried to persuade the Athenians to give order that their asses
might be employed in tilling the ground as well as the horses were; to
which it was answered that that animal was not destined for such a
service: "That's all one," replied he, "you have only to order it: for
the most ignorant and incapable men you employ in the commands of your
wars incontinently become worthy enough, because you employ them"; to
which the custom of so many people, who canonise the king they have
chosen out of their own body, and are not content only to honour, but
must adore them, comes very near. Those of Mexico, after the ceremonies
of their king's coronation are over, dare no more look him in the face;
but, as if they had deified him by his royalty. Amongst the oaths they
make him take to maintain their religion, their laws, and liberties, to
be valiant, just, and mild, he moreover swears to make the sun run his
course in his wonted light