divisions and variations[1] the evolutions and changes in the dances of the stars are guided; but, as elsewhere in the universe, the ears of the beings of that region, benumbed, like those of the Egyptians, by the continuance of the sound, can not hear it, loud as it may be. Blacksmiths, millers, armourers, could not hold out against the noise that beats upon their ears, if they were dazed by it as we are. My perfumed doublet[2] is perceptible to my nose; but after I have worn it three successive days, it is perceived only by the noses of others. This [other fact] is even stranger — that, notwithstanding long intervals and breaks, accustomedness can span the gap and render permanent the effect of the impression on our senses, as they find who live near church-towers. I sleep at home in a tower in which every day, in the morning and evening, a very large bell rings for the Ave Maria. The racket amazes[3] my whole tower, and whereas, when I am first there, it seems intolerable to me, in a short time it becomes so familiar that I hear it without annoyance, and often without waking.
Plato reproved a child who was gambling for nuts.[4] The child answered: “You reprove me for a small matter.” “Habit,” Plato replied, “is not a small matter.” I find that our greatest vices are contracted in our earliest childhood, and that our chief guidance lies in the hands of our nurses. It is a pastime for a mother to see a child wring a chicken’s neck, and amuse himself by hurting a dog or a cat; and a father may be foolish enough to take it for a good omen of a valorous spirit when he sees his son insulting by a blow a peasant or a servant who does not defend himself; and for a pretty wit when he sees him cheat his comrade by some crafty falsehood and fraud. These are, however, the true seeds and roots of cruelty and of tyranny and of treachery. They sprout there, and afterward grow lustily and greatly thrive at the hands of custom. And it is a very dangerous education to excuse such base tendencies by the feebleness of childhood and the trivial nature of the subject. Firstly, it is Nature who speaks, whose voice is purer and more pierc-
