e to probe too deeply the motives of others, especially as a
rule of action for himself. As he says in his admirable satire of "Don
Juan,"--

"'Tis sad to burrow deep to roots of things,
So much are they besmeared with earth."

Lastly, his mockeries were all directed against the vice he most
abhorred--_hypocrisy_; for he looked upon that as a gangrene to the
soul, the cause of most of the evils that afflict society, and certainly
of all his own misfortunes. As long as he was obliged to bear it, under
the depressing influence of England's misty atmosphere, he felt by turns
saddened and indignant. But when he reached Italy, his soul caught the
bright rays that emanate from a southern sky, and he preferred to combat
hypocrisy with the lighter weapons of pleasantry. But whichsoever arm he
wielded, he always pursued the enemy remorselessly, following into
every fastness, of which none knew better than himself each winding and
each resource. For hypocrisy had been the bane of his life; it had
rendered useless for happiness that combination he possessed of Heaven's
choicest gifts; the plenitude of affections, numberless qualities most
charming in domestic life, for he had been exiled from the family
circle. Hypocrisy had _forced_ him to despise a country also that could
act toward him like an unnatural parent, rather than a true mother,
wounding him with calumnies, and obstinately depreciating him, solely
because she allowed hypocrisy to reign on her soil. Such, then, were the
virtues which he permitted himself to mock at.

"_We must not make out a ridicule where none exists_," says La Bruyere;
but it is well to see that which has a being, and to draw it forth
gracefully, in a manner that may both please and instruct.

As to true, holy, pure, undeniable virtues, no one more than he admired
and respected them. "Any trait of virtue or courage," says one of his
biographers, "caused him deep emotion, and would draw tears from his
eyes, provided always he were convinced that it had not been actuated by
a desire of shining or producing effect."

"A generous action," says another, "the remembrance of patriotism,
personal sacrifice, disinterestedness, would cause in him the most
sublime emotions, the most brilliant thoughts." The more his opinion as
to the rarity of virtue appeared to him well-founded, the more did he
render homage when he met with it. The more he felt the difficulty of
overcoming passions, the more did a vic