_Elean_. Put them aside for the moment, and reconsider my theory. I say that if, on the one hand, I express in my writings certain hard and bitter truths, whether to relieve my mind, or console myself in laughing at them, I do not fail at the same time to deplore and disadvise the search after that cold and miserable truth, acquaintance with which reduces us to a state of either indifference and hypocrisy, or baseness of soul, moral corruption, and depravity. And, on the other hand, I praise and exalt those noble, if false ideas, which give birth to high-minded and vigorous actions and thoughts, such as further the welfare of mankind, or individuals; those glorious illusions, vain though they be, which give value to life, and which are natural to the soul; in short, the superstitions of antiquity, distinct from the errors of barbarism. These latter should be rooted out, but the former respected. Civilisation and philosophy having exceeded their natural bounds, as is usual with all things pertaining to humanity, have drawn us from one state of barbarism only to precipitate us into another, no better than the first. This new barbarism, born of reason and science instead of ignorance, manifests itself more in the mind than the body. Yet I imagine, that though these superstitions become daily more necessary for the well-being of civilised nations, the possibility of their re-introduction diminishes daily. And as for man's perfection, I assure you if I had perceived any signs of it, I would have written a volume in praise of the human race. But since I have not yet seen it, and as it is improbable I ever shall see it, I think of leaving in my will a certain sum of money for the purpose of procuring an annual panegyric of the human race, to be publicly recited from the time of its perfection, and to pay for the erection of a temple, statue, or monument, as may be judged best, to commemorate the event. _COPERNICUS:_ _A DIALOGUE IN FOUR SCENES._ _Scene_ I.--_The First Hour and the Sun._ _First Hour_. Good day, Excellency. _Sun_. Thanks; good-night as well. _First Hour_. The horses are waiting, your Excellency. _Sun_. Very well. _First Hour_. And the Morning Star has been up some time. _Sun_. All right. Let it rise and set, just as it pleases. _First Hour_. What do I hear your Excellency say? _Sun_. I wish you would leave me alone. _First Hour_. But, Excellency, the night has already lasted so long, that it can last no longer; and if we delay, imagine, Excellency, the confusion that will ensue. _Sun_. I don't mean to stir, whatever happens. _First Hour_.0 Excellency! what is this? Does your Excellency feel ill? _Sun_. No, no; I feel nothing, except that I don't wish to move. So you can go and attend to your own affairs. _First Hour_. How can I go unless your Excellency comes? I am the first Hour of the day, and how can the day exist, if your Excellency does not deign to go forth as usual?