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CHAP. XXXVII.
" Nihil me pœnitet hujus nasi," quoth Pamphagus;—that is,—"My nose has been the making of me.'—"Nec est cur pœniteat," replies Cocles; that is, "How the duce should such a nose fail?"
The doctrine, you see, was laid down by Erasmus, as my father wished it, with the utmost plainness; but my father's disappointment was, in finding nothing more from so able a pen, but the bare fact itself; without any of that speculative subtilty or ambidexterity of argumentation upon it, which heaven had bestow'd upon man on purpose to investigate truth and fight for her on all sides.—My father pish'd and pugh'd at first most terribly,—'tis worth something to have a good name. As the dialogue was of Erasmus, my father soon came to himself, and readit
