not, nor cannot be, sufficiently copious to designate the vast variety
of shades, the multiplicity of imperceptible differences, which is to be
found in their modes of seeing and thinking. Each man, then, has, to say
thus, a language which is peculiar to himself alone, and this language
is incommunicable to others. What harmony, what unison, then, can
possibly exist between them, when they discourse with each other, upon
objects only known to their imagination? Can this imagination in one
individual ever be the same as in another? How can they possibly
understand each other, when they assign to those objects qualities that
can only be attributed to the particular manner in which their brain is
affected.

For one man to exact from another that he shall think like himself, is
to insist that he shall be organized precisely in the same manner--that
he shall have been modified exactly the same in every moment of his
existence: that he shall have received the same temperament, the same
nourishment, the same education: in a word, that he shall require that
other to be himself. Wherefore is it not exacted that all men shall have
the same features? Is man more the master of his opinions? Are not his
opinions the necessary consequence of his Nature, and of those peculiar
circumstances which, from his infancy, have necessarily had an influence
upon his mode of thinking, and his manner of acting? If man be a
connected whole, whenever a single feature differs from his own, ought
he not to conclude that it is not possible his brain can either think,
associate ideas, imagine, or dream precisely in the same manner with
that other.

The diversity in the temperament of man, is the natural, the necessary
source of the diversity of his passions, of his taste, of his ideas of
happiness, of his opinions of every kind. Thus, this same diversity will