_Pro Cæsare pugnant_ _Dipsades, et peragunt civilia bella Cerastæ._ XVI. He who can reconcile it to himself, to be inflexible in argument, and to dispute without end, and with all his might, never suffering himself to be convinced by reason, has made a large stride towards being reputed an Aristotle among the vulgar; for they, with respect to the wars of Minerva, as well as those of Mars, are apt to declare the victory, in favour of him who remains longest in the field, and, in their opinion, he never fails to come off conqueror, who has the last word. This is the way the vulgar judge; but he who would be thought superior to that class of people, must permit himself to be convinced by reason, for, if he does not, instead of acquiring the reputation of a learned man by such conduct, he lets himself down to the level of a brute. The ingenious Doctor Luis Rodriguez, being asked what sort of a man a shallow physician was with whom he had been arguing, answered pleasantly, (although we must allow his wit favoured of the arrogance which is rather too common with the Portuguese) _He is so great an ass, that goad him ever so much, it is impossible to make him get on, or be the better for any reasoning that is bestowed on him._ XVII. It is also a very common artifice with those who know but little, to bring the conversation to turn upon that little they are informed of. This is very easy for people of power or authority to do. I knew a person of this sort myself, who, whatever conversation happened to arise in company, was used to train the subject of it insensibly, to fall on the few points relative to it, which he had been reading or studying that day, or the day before, by which piece of management, he generally used to appear more learned than the rest of the company. Even in scholastic disputes, this art is often practised. I have more than twice in my life, seen a good theologian foiled by a novice; who, by artfully sliding some chimerical proposition into the dispute, has drawn the argument from its proper object, and caused it to fall into a sumulistical labyrinth of amplifications, restrictions, alienations, oppositions, conversions, and equipolations; the rules of which were fresh in the young man’s memory, and which the old theologian had forgot. This was adopting the craft of the rogue Cacus, who, having artfully drawn Hercules into his own cave, rendered his arms and superior strength of no use to him, by blinding him with the smoak he continued to eject out of his mouth. SECT. V.