are not able to refute: we speak of all things by precepts and decisions.
The style at Rome was that even that which a witness deposed to having
seen with his own eyes, and what a judge determined with his most certain
knowledge, was couched in this form of speaking: "it seems to me." They
make me hate things that are likely, when they would impose them upon me
as infallible. I love these words which mollify and moderate the
temerity of our propositions: "peradventure; in some sort; some; 'tis
said, I think," and the like: and had I been set to train up children I
had put this way of answering into their mouths, inquiring and not
resolving: "What does this mean? I understand it not; it may be: is it
true?" so that they should rather have retained the form of pupils at
threescore years old than to go out doctors, as they do, at ten. Whoever
will be cured of ignorance must confess it.

Iris is the daughter of Thaumas;

["That is, of Admiration. She (Iris, the rainbow) is beautiful, and
for that reason, because she has a face to be admired, she is said
to have been the daughter of Thamus."
--Cicero, De Nat. Deor., iii. 20.]

admiration is the foundation of all philosophy, inquisition the progress,
ignorance the end. But there is a sort of ignorance, strong and
generous, that yields nothing in honour and courage to knowledge; an
ignorance which to conceive requires no less knowledge than to conceive
knowledge itself. I read in my younger years a trial that Corras,

[A celebrated Calvinist lawyer, born at Toulouse; 1513, and
assassinated there, 4th October 1572.]