.... I have thought good to divert myself with drawing up a Panegyric of Folly (Encomium Moriae). How, you say, what maggot put this into your head? Well, Sir, the first hint was your own surname of More, which comes as near to the literal sound of the name mono as you yourself are far from its meaning: and that, as all men agree, is very far indeed. In the next place, I supposed that this kind of playful wit would be all the more acceptable to you, since it is your habit to be mightily amused with this sort of jocose raillery, and in your ordinary conversation you show yourself to be a modem Democritus; for indeed, while by your singular vein of wit you are very different from the common herd of men, at the same time by your incredible affability and complacent temper, you possess the art of suiting your humour to every kind of company. . . . How unjust it is, if when we allow different recreations to each special way of life we grant no diversion to studies; especially since trifles may be a whet to more serious thought, and things comic may be so handled that a common-sense reader may thence reap more advantage than from a more ponderous and stately disquisition. . . . But why, Sir, do I trouble you with this needless apology, you who are so peculiar a patron (of trifling); for, though the cause itself be none of the best, you, at any rate, can give it honourable patronage.