Yes, as he permits the world to be filled with foolishness, error and calamity; that is not to say that men are all essentially made to be fools and miscreants. He permits that some men be eaten by snakes; but one cannot say--"God made man to be eaten by snakes." OSMIN: What do you mean when you say "God permits"? can nothing happen without His order? permit, will and do, are they not the same thing for Him? SELIM: He permits crime, but He does not commit it. OSMIN: Committing a crime is acting against divine justice, it is disobeying God. Well, God cannot disobey Himself, He cannot commit crime; but He has made man in such a way that man may commit many crimes: where does that come from? SELIM: There are people who know, but I do not; all that I know is that the Alcoran is ridiculous, although from time to time it has some tolerably good things; certainly the Alcoran was not at all necessary to man; I stick by that: I see clearly what is false, and I know very little that is true. OSMIN: I thought you would instruct me, and you teach me nothing. SELIM: Is it not a great deal to recognize people who deceive you, and the gross and dangerous errors which they retail to you? OSMIN: I should have ground for complaint against a doctor who showed me all the harmful plants, and who did not show me one salutary plant. SELIM: I am not a doctor, and you are not ill; but it seems to me I should be giving you a very good prescription if I said to you: "Put not your trust in all the inventions of charlatans, worship God, be an honest man, and believe that two and two make four." _NEW NOVELTIES_ It seems that the first words of Ovid's "Metamorphoses," _In nova fert animus_, are the motto of the human race. Nobody is touched by the admirable spectacle of the sun which rises, or rather seems to rise, every day; everybody runs to see the smallest little meteor which appears for an instant in that accumulation of vapours, called the sky, that surround the earth. An itinerant bookseller does not burden himself with a Virgil, with a Horace, but with a new book, even though it be detestable. He draws you aside and says to you: "Sir, do you want some books from Holland?" From the beginning of the world women have complained of the fickleness that is imputed to them in favour of the first new object which presents itself, and whose novelty is often its only merit. Many ladies (it must be confessed, despite the infinite respect we have for them) have treated men as they complain they have themselves been treated; and the story of Gioconda is much older than Ariosto.