e sore when he
is called so; and (you'll excuse me) if that were to be your own case,
why should we believe you would not be as uneasy at it as another
blockhead?

_Author._ This is pushing me pretty home indeed; but I wont give out.
For as it is not at all inconceivable, that a blockhead of my size may
have a particular knack of doing some useful thing that might puzzle a
wiser man to be master of, will not that blockhead still have
something in him to be conceited of? If so, allow me but the vanity of
supposing I may have had some such possible knack, and you will not
wonder (though in many other points I may still be a blockhead) that I
may, notwithstanding, be contented with my condition.

_Frankly._ Is it not commendable, in a man of parts, to be warmly
concerned for his reputation?

_Author._ In what regards his honesty or honour, I will make some
allowance; but for the reputation of his parts, not one tittle.

_Frankly._ How! not to be concerned for what half the learned world
are in a continual war about.

_Author_. So are another half about religion; but neither Turk or
Pope, swords or anathemas, can alter truth! There it stands! always
visible to reason, self-defended and immovable! Whatever it _was_, or
_is_, it ever _will be_! As no attack can alter, so no defence can add
to its proportion.

_Frankly._ At this rate, you pronounce all controversies in wit to be
either needless or impertinent.

_Author._ When one in a hundred happens _not_ to be so, or to make
amends for being either by its pleasantry, we ought in justice to
allow it a great rarity. A reply to a just satire or criticism will
seldom be thought better of.

_Frankly._ May not a reply be a good one?

_Author._ Yes, but never absolutely necessary; for as your work (or
reputation) must have been good or bad, before it was censured, your
reply to that censure could not alter it: it would still be but what
it was. If it was good, the attack could not hurt it: if bad, the
reply could not mend it.[224]

_Frankly._ But slander is not always so impotent as you seem to
suppose it; men of the best sense may be misled by it, or, by their
not inquiring after truth, may never come at it; and the vulgar, as
they are less apt to be good than ill-natured, often mistake malice
for wit, and have an uncharitable joy in commending it. Now, when this
is the case, is not a tame silence, upon being satirically libelled,
as liable to be thought guilt or stu