APHORISMS ON MAN. TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT OF THE REV. JOHN CASPAR LAVATER, CITIZEN OF ZURIC.
— è coelo descendit [...].
THIRD EDITION.
T & J S
LONDON: PRINTED. NEW-YORK: RE-PRINTED BY T. AND J. SWORDS, FOR BERRY AND ROGERS, HANOVER-SQUARE. M,DCC,XC.
TO HENRY FUSELI, A. M.
TAKE, dear observer of men, from the hand of your unbiassed friend, this testimony of esteem for your genius.
All the world know that this is no flattery; for, in an hundred things, I am not of your opinion; but, in what concerns the knowledge of mankind, we are nearer to one another than any two in ten thousand.
What I give here is the result of long experience, matured and confirmed by various and daily application. It will be found, I hope, an useful book for every class of men, from the throne to the cottage. All is not, cannot be, new; but all ought to be true, useful, important; and much, I trust, is new and individual.
I give you liberty not only to make improvements, but to omit what you think false or unimportant.
The number of rules may appear large, yet it is small compared to what might have been written; in the mean time you and I, as well as our readers, may find ample employment in studying these.
ADVERTISEMENT.
IN the following collection of Aphorisms the reader is not to expect a set of maxims compiled from the author's own, or by him selected from the works of others; but an original, meditated and composed in the series here offered during the autumn of 1787, and trarsmitted in the author's own manuscript to the publisher.
Notwithstanding the rapidity that attended this work, (and the world know that all this author's works are affusions,) it will be found to contain what gives their value to maxims—verdicts of wisdom on the reports of experience. If some are truisms, let it be considered that Sclomon and Hippocrates wrote truisms: if some are not new, they are recommended by an air of novelty: if whim should appear to have dictated others, it was the whim of humanity; and what may be deamed rash will be found to flow from the fervour of indignant honesly, or the exultations of benevolence. Acute and perspicuous, they are not infected by the cant of sects, or circumscribed by local notions, but general as the passions and feelings of the race.
It is the intention of the editor to add another volume of AMPHORISMS ON ART, WITH CHARACTERS AND EXAMPLES, not indeed by the same author, which the reader may expect in the course of the year.
APHORISMS.
1.
KNOW, in the first place, that mankind agree in essence, as they do in their limbs and senses.
2.
Mankind differ as much in essence as they do in form, limbs, and senses—and only so, and not more.
3.
As in looking upward each beholder thinks himself the centre of the sky; so Nature formed her individuals, that each must see himself the centre of being.
4.
Existence is self-enjoyment, by means of some object distinct from ourselves.
5.
As the medium of self-enjoyment, as the objects of love—so the value, the character, and manner of existence in man;—as his thou, so his I.—Penetrate the one, and you know the other.
6.
The more complex yet unisorm, the more varied yet harmonious, the medium of self-enjoyment;—the more existent and real, the more vigorous and dignisied, the more blest and blessing is man.
7.
He, whom common, gross, or stale objects allure, and, when obtained, content, is a vulgar being, incapable of greatness in thought or action.
8.
Who pursues means of enjoyment contradictory, irreconcilable, and self-destructive, is a fool, or what is called a sinner—Sin and destruction of order are the same.
9.
The more unharmonious and inconsistent your objects of desire, the more inconsequent, inconsistent, unquiet, the more ignoble, idiotical, and criminal yourself.
10.
Copiousness and simplicity, variety and unity, constitute real greatness of character.
11.
The less you can enjoy, the poorer, the scantier yourself—the more you can enjoy, the richer, the more vigorous.
[Page 7] You enjoy with wisdom or with folly, as the gratification of your appetites capacitates or unnerves your powers.
12.
He scatters enjoyment who can enjoy much.
13.
Joy and grief decide character. What exalts prosperity? what imbitters grief? what leaves us indifferent? what interests us? As the interest of man, so his God—as his God, so he.
14.
What is a man's interest? what constitutes his God, the ultimate of his wishes, his end of existence? Either that which on every occasion he communicates with the most unrestrained cordiality, or hides from every profane eye and ear with mysterious awe; to which he makes every other thing a mere appendix;—the vortex, the centre, the comparative point from which he sets out, on which he fixes, to which he irresistibly returns;—that, at the last of which you may safely think him inconsolable;—that which he rescues from the gripe of danger with equal anxiety and boldness.
[Page 8] The story of the painter and the prince is well known: to get at the best piece in the artist's collection, the prince ordered fire to be cried in the neighbourhood—at the first noise the artist abruptly left the prince, and seized his darling—his Titian. The alarm proved a false one, but the object of purchase was fixed. The application is easy: of thousands it may be decided what loss, what gain, would affect them most. This the sage of Nazareth meant when he said, Where thy treasure is, there will thy heart be also.—The object of your love is your God.
15.
The more independent of accidents, the more self-subsistent, the more fraught with internal resources—the greater the character.
16.
The greatest of characters, no doubt, would be he, who, free of all trifling accidental helps, could see objects through one grand immutable medium, always at hand, and proof against illusion and time, reflecting every object in its true shape and colour through all the fluctuation of things.
17.
Where you find true internal life, consistence of character, principles of real independence, [Page 9]sympathy for universal harmony—where inexorable resolution against all that threatens the real unity of existence and bands of order—where you find these, there offer the homage due humanity.
18.
The study of man is the doctrine of unisons and discords between ourselves and others.
19.
As man's love or hatred, so he. Love and hatred exist only personified. As his hatred and love, so his will and its energy. As the energy of will, so the value, the character of man. Investigate then what and how he loves or hates—as these are in perpetual unison, you discover his energy of will, and by that himself.
20.
Distinguish with exactness, in thyself and others, between wishes and will, in the strictest sense.
Who has many wishes has generally but little will. Who has energy of will has few diverging wishes. Whose will is bent with energy on one, must renounce the wishes for many things. Who cannot do this is not stamped with the majesty of human nature. [Page 10]The energy of choice, the unison of various powers for one, is alone will, born under the agonies of self-denial and renounced desires.
21.
Calmness of will is a sign of grandeut. The vulgar, far from hiding their will, blab their wishes.—A single spark of occasion discharges the child of passions into a thousand crackers of desire.
22.
He knows not how to speak who cannot be silent; still less how to act with vigour and decision.—Who hastens to the end is silent: loudness is impotence.
23.
Who in the same given time can produce more than many others, has vigour; who can produce more and better, has talents; who can produce what none else can, has gemus.
24.
The acquisition of will, for one thing exclusively, presupposes entire acquaintance with many others. Search into the progress of exclusive will, and you may learn whether it was formed by accident, or judgment, or both.
25.
Wishes run over in loquacious impotence, will presses on with laconic energy.
26.
The more uniform a man's voice, step, manner of conversation, hand-writing—the more quiet, uniform, settled, his actions, his character.
27.
Who is open without levity; generous without waste; secret without craft; humble without meanness; bold without insolence; cautious without anxiety; regular, yet not formal; mild, yet not timid; firm, yet not tyrannical—is made to pass the ordeal of honour, friendship, virtue.
28.
The glad gladdens—who gladdens not is not glad. Who is fatal to others is so to himself—to him, heaven, earth, wisdom, [...], virtue, vice, are equal—to such an one tell neither good nor bad of yourself.
29.
Who forces himself on others, is to himself a load. Impetuous curiosity is empty and inconstant. Prying intrusion may be suspected of whatever is little.
30.
The shameless flatterer is a shameless knave.
31.
As the impudence of flattery, so the impudence of egotism.
32.
Let the degree of egotism be the measure of confidence.
33.
Indiscretion, rashness, falsehood, levity, and malice, produce each other.
34.
Who (the exhilarating mirth of humour excepted) gives uneasiness in order to enjoy it, is malicious; but there is both dignity and delicacy in giving uneasiness to confer greater delight than could have been obtained without it.
35.
Who pries is indiscreet—the side glance, dismayed when observed, seeks to ensnare.
36.
Who begins with severity, in judging of another, ends commonly with falsehood.
37.
The smiles that encourage severity of judgment hide malice and insincerity.
38.
He, who boldly interposes between a merciless censor and his prey, is a man of vigour: and he who, mildly wise, without wounding, convinces him of his error, commands our veneration.
39.
Who, without pressing temptation, tells a lie, will, without pressing temptation, act ignobly and meanly.
40.
Who, under pressing temptations to lie, adheres to truth, nor to the profane betrays aught of a sacred trust, is near the summit of wisdom and virtue.
41.
Three things characterise man: person, fate, merit—the harmony of these constitutes real grandeur.
42.
Search carefully into the unison and discords of a man's person, fate, and merit; and you may analyse his character so clearly, that you may almost with certainty foretell what he will be.
43.
As the present character of a man, so his past, so his future. Who recollects distinctly [Page 14]his past adventures, knows his destiny to come.
44.
You can depend on no man, on no friend, but him who can depend on himself. He only who acts consequentially toward himself will act so toward others, and vice versa.
Man is for ever the same; the same under every form, in all situations and relations that admit of free and unrestrained exertion. The same regard which you have for yourself, you have for others, for nature, for the invisible Numen, which you call God.—Who has witnessed one free and unconstrained act of yours, has witnessed all.
45.
What is truth, wisdom—virtue—magnanimity?—consequence. And what is consequence?—harmony between yourself and your situation, your point of sight, and every relation of being.
46.
Where consequence ceases, there folly, restlessness and misery begin. Consequence determines your degree of respectability, in every diverging point, from your enemy to your God.
47.
Man has an inward sense of consequence—of all that is pertinent. This sense is the essence of humanity: this, developed and determined, characterises him—this, displayed, in his education. The more strict you are in observing what is pertinent or heterogeneous in character, actions, works of art and literature—the wiser, nobler, greater, the more humane yourself.
48.
He who acts most consequentially is the most friendly, and the most worthy of friendship—the more inconsequential, the less fit for any of its duties. In this I know I have said something common; but it will be very uncommon if I have made you attentive to it.
49.
Trust him with none of thy individualities who is, or pretends to be, two things at once.
50.
The most exuberant encomiast turns easily into the most inveterate censor.
51.
The loss of taste for what is right is loss of all right taste.
52.
Who affects useless singularities has surely a little mind.
53.
All affectation is the vain and ridiculous attempt of poverty to appear rich.
54.
Frequent laughing has been long called a sign of a little mind—whilst the scarcer smile of harmless quiet has been complimented as the mark of a noble heart.—But to abstain from laughing, and exciting laughter, merely not to offend, or to risk giving offence, or not to debase the inward dignity of character—is a power unknown to many a vigorous mind.
55.
Who cannot make one in the circle of harmless merriment, without a secret cause of grief or seriousness, may be suspected of pride, hypocrisy, or formality.
56.
Softness of smile indicates softness of character.
57.
The immoderate cannot laugh moderately.
58.
The horse-laugh indicates brutality of character.
59.
A sneer is often the sign of heartless malignity.
60.
Who courts the intimacy of a professed sneerer, is a professed knave.
61.
I know not which of these two I should wish to avoid most; the scoffer at virtue and religion, who, with heartless villany, butchers innocence and truth; or the pietest, who crawls, groans, blubbers, and secretly says to gold, thou art my hope! and to his belly, thou art my god!
62.
All moral dependence on him, who has been guilty of one act of positive cool villany, against an acknowledged, virtuous and noble character, is credulity, imbecility, or insanity.
63.
The most stormy ebullitions of passion, from blasphemy to murder, are less terrific than one single act of cool villany: a still rabies is more dangerous than the paroxisms of a fever.—Fear the boisterous savage of passion less than the sedately grinning villain.
64.
Who defends a thing demonstrated bad, and, with a contemptuous shrug, rejects another demonstrated good, is, by the decision of the most unequivocal charity, a decided knave.
65.
Take this as another mark of a decided knave—that, after each knavish expression, he labours to suppress a grin of malice, and meditates new mischief.
66.
Can he love truth who can take a knave to his bosom?
67.
There are offences against individuals, to all appearance trifling, which are capital offences against the human race:—fly him who can commit them.
68.
There ought to be a perpetual whisper in the ear of plain honesty—take heed not even to pronounce the name of a knave—he will make the very sound of his name a handle of mischief. And do you think a knave begins mischief to leave off? Know this—whether he overcome or be foiled, he will wrangle on.
69.
Humility and love, whatever obscurities may involve religious tenets, constitute the essence of true religion. The humble is formed to adore; the loving to associate with eternal love.
70.
Have you ever seen a vulgar mind warm or humble; or a proud one that could love? where pride begins love ceases—as love, so humility—as both, so the still real power of man.
71.
Every thing may be mimicked by hypocrisy, but humility and love united. The humblest star twinkles most in the darkest night.—The more rare humility and love united, the more radiant when they meet.
72.
From him, who premeditatedly injures humility and love, expect nothing—nothing generous, nothing just.
73.
Modesty is silent when it would not be improper to speak: the humble, without being called upon, never recollects to say any thing of himself.
74.
The oppressive is hard. If ten, chosen from the croud by yourself, call you oppressive, it is more than probable that you have a raw, hard, indelicate side.
75.
Humility with energy is often mistaken for pride, though pride with energy is never called humble. Mankind expect much oftener pride than humility. Humility must be amazingly certain indeed before it shall be acknowledged by the humble and the proud, as readily as pride by both.
76.
All have moments of energy; but, those moments excepted, the humbly-affectionate, as such, is never oppressive; whilst the least motion of the proud oppresses. Hardness and pride shew themselves in a thousand forms, speak a thousand languages, which every eye and every ear can interpret.
77.
He who has the power to pass suddenly from rage to calmness, or, what is the same, to hide a gust of passion, may not be a hypocrite, but must be intolerable in his fits.
78.
The wrath that on conviction subsides into mildness, is the wrath of a generous mind.
79.
Who will sacrifice nothing, and enjoy all, is a fool.
80.
Thousands are hated, whilst none are ever loved, without a real cause. The amiable alone can be loved.
81.
He who is loved and commands love, when he corrects or is the cause of uneasiness, must be loveliness itself; and
82.
He who can love him in the moment of correction, is the most amiable of mortals.
83.
He, to whom you may tell any thing, may see every thing, and will betray nothing.
84.
You often feel yourself invigorated to tell, without fear, some bold truth to certain great characters who would never forgive being corrected in trifles. Pushed once for my opinion by one who pretended a serious design of self-amendment, and prefaced his request by protesting—that nothing could offend him—that he would even submit to be called a fiend—I replied, you may tell a man thou art a fiend, but not your nose wants [Page 22]blowing—to him alone who can bear a thing of that kind, you may tell all.
85.
He can feel no little wants who is in pursuit of grandeur.
86.
The freer you feel yourself in the presence of another, the more free is he: who is free makes free.
87.
Call him wise whose actions, words, and steps, are all a clear because to a clear why.
88.
Who knows whence he comes, where he is, and whither he tends, he, and he alone, is wise.
89.
Decided ends are sure signs of a decided character; and
90.
Vague ends of a vague character.
91.
Who makes quick use of the moment is a genius of prudence.
92.
Who instantly does the best that can be done, what no other could have done, and what all must acknowledge to be the best, is a genius and a hero at once.
93.
The discovery of truth, by slow progressive meditation, is wisdom.—Intuition of truth, not preceded by perceptible meditation, is genius.
94.
Intuition is the clear conception of the whole at once. It seldom belongs to man to say without presumption, ‘I came, saw, vanquished.’
95.
Avoid the eye that discovers with rapidity the bad, and is slow to see the good.
96.
Dread more the blunderer's friendship than the calumniator's enmity.
97.
He only, who can give durability to his exertions, has genuine power and energy of mind.
98.
Before thou callest a man hero or genius, investigate whether his exertion has features of indelibility; for all that is celestial, all genius, is the offspring of immortality.
99.
Who despises all that is despicable is made to be impressed with all that is grand.
100.
Who can pay homage to the truly despicable is truly contemptible.
101.
The most contemptible of those that ever were or ever can be despised by the wise, is he who, with opportunities of being acquainted with what is noble, pure, grand, gives himself airs of despising it.
102.
He who can despise nothing can value nothing with propriety; and who can value nothing has no right to despise any thing.
103.
Sagacity in selecting the good, and courage to honour it, according to its degree, determines your own degree of goodness.
104.
Some characters are positive, and some negative.
105.
Who gives is positive; who receives is negative; still there remains an immense class of mere passives.
106.
There is a negative class whose constant aim is destruction, who perpetually labour to demolish, to imbitter, to detract from something [Page 25]within us; these avoid if you can, but examine what they say; their far-fetched criticisms will often make you attend to what else might have escaped observation.
107.
Who takes from you ought to give in his turn, or he is a thief; I distinguish taking and accepting, robbing and receiving: many give already by the mere wish to give; their still unequivocal wish of improvement and gratitude, whilst it draws from us, opens treasures within us that might have remained locked up, even to ourselves.
108.
Seeking, accepting, giving, make nearly the sum of all necessary knowledge.
Who seeks, investigates, entreats, and asks; who accepts, hears, fixes, and applies; who gives, communicates, gladdens, and enriches.
109.
Who can hear with composure, attend in silence, and listen to the end—may already be considered as wise, just, noble: his judgment, of whatever comes within his sphere, where he can hear, and hear out with composure, may, till you meet with one better, serve for an oracle.
110.
Who can relate with composure, with precision, truth, clearness, and artless sentiment, and relate the same twice equally well—him seek for a friend, or rather deserve to be his friend.
111.
Who can listen without constraint whilst an important thing is telling, can keep a secret when told.
112.
As a person's yes and no, so all his character. A downright yes and no marks the firm; a quick the rapid; and a slow one a cautious or timid character.
113.
Vociferation and calmness of character seldom meet in the same person.
114.
Who writes as he speaks, speaks as he writes, looks as he speaks and writes—is honest.
115.
A habit of sneering marks the egotist, or the fool, or the knave—or all three.
116.
Who cuts is easily wounded. The readier you are to offend the sooner you are offended.
117.
Who, inattentive to answers, accumulates questions will not be informed, and who means not to be informed asks like a fool.
118.
Who writes an illegible hand is commonly rapid, often impetuous, in his judgments.
119.
As you treat your body, so your house, your domestics, your enemies, your friends—Dress is a table of your contents.
120.
Certain trifling flaws sit as disgracefully on a character of elegance as a ragged button on a court dress.
121.
Who knows not how to wait with yes, will often be with shame reduced to say no. Letting " I dare not wait upon I would." *
122.
As one flatters so he cuts, so he detracts.
123.
Who has done certain things once may be expected to repeat them a thousand times.
124.
Who has a daring eye tells downright truths and downright lies.
125.
Who sedulously attends, pointedly asks, calmly speaks, coolly answers, and ceases when he has no more to say, is in possession of some of the best requisites of man.
126.
Who seldom speaks, and with one calm well-timed word can strike dumb the loquacious—is a genius or a hero.
127.
Who makes many decided questions, and gives evasive answers, will find it difficult to escape the suspicion of craft and duplicity.
128.
Who interrupts often is inconstant and insincere.
129.
Who always willingly relates is not sagacious; and who relates always with reluctance seems to want sentiment and politeness.
130.
The quicker, the louder, the applause with which another tries to gain you over to his purpose—the bitterer his censure if he miss his aim.
131.
The ambitious sacrifices all to what he terms honour, as the miser all to money. [Page 29]Who values gold above all considers all else as trifling: who values fame above all despises all but fame. The truly virtuous has an exclusive taste for virtue. A great passion has no partner.
132.
The procrastinator is not only indolent and weak but commonly false too—most of the weak are false.
133.
All cavillers are suspicious. The supercilious imbitters: he will neither love nor be loved.
134.
Who trades in contradictions will not be contradicted.
135.
Who can look quietly at nothing will never do any thing worthy of imitation.
136.
Who is respectable when thinking himself alone and free from observation will be so before the eye of all the world.
137.
Who not only renders spontaneous justice to his rival, but with cordial praise enumerates his merits more clearly than his competitor could himself have done, is not only [Page 30]one of the most perspicacious, but one of the grandest of mortals—and has, superlatively, pronounced his own panegyric.
138.
True genius repeats itself for ever, and never repeats itself—one ever varied sense beams novelty and unity on all.
139.
He who has genius and eloquence sufficient either to cover or to excuse his errors, yet extenuates not, but rather accuses himself, and unequivocally confesses guilt—approaches the circle of immortals, whom human language has dignified with the appellation of gods and saints.
140.
Small attentions to pressing disregarded wants, not easily discovered, and less easily satisfied, are the privilege of a few great souls.
141.
Many trifling inattentions, neglects, indiscretions—are so many unequivocal proofs of dull frigidity, hardness, or extreme egotism.
142.
He, who confident of being right, can check his anger at the effrontery of unjust claims, calmly produce his vouchers, and leave them to speak for themselves, is more than a just man.
143.
Who, in the midst of just provocation to anger, instantly finds the fit word which settles all around him in silence, is more than wise or just: he is, were he a beggar, of more than royal blood—he is of celestial descent.
144.
There are actions, sentiments, manners, speeches; there is a silence of such magnitude, energy, decision—as to be singly worth a whole life of some men. He who has these features never can act meanly—all his actions, words, writings, however to appearance ambiguous, must be stamped by their superior energy.
145.
There are many who are much acquainted with man, and little with the world; others that know the world, and are not acquainted with man. These two kinds of knowledge, mistaken for each other, occasion many unjust and precipitate decisions: let every one, really intent on the study of mankind, avoid confounding, and carefully search to unite them.
146.
Who always loses the more he is known must undoubtedly be very poor.
147.
Who, in a long course of familiarity, neither gains nor loses, has a very mean, vulgar, character.
148.
Who always wins and never loses, the more he is known, enjoyed, used, is as much above a vulgar character.
149.
Who has no friend and no enemy is one of the vulgar; and without talents, powers, or energy.
150.
As your enemies and your friend so are you.
151.
You may depend upon it that he is a good man whose intimate friends are all good, and whose enemies are characters decidedly bad.
152.
He must be a man of worth who is not forsaken by the good, when the mean and malicious unite to oppress him.
153.
He must be very bad who cannot find a single friend, though he be praised, noticed, puffed.
154.
Who is thoroughly bad?—he that has no sense for what is thoroughly good.
155.
That most uncommon of all mortals, him who can, whilst advancing to fame, enter into the detail of all the wants of an unknown good character, and who would lose the whole enjoyment of it if he knew he had been observed—him I should wish to know, and to address him—Saint of saints, pray for us!
156.
The strong or weak side of a man can never be know so soon as when you see him engaged in dispute with a weak or malicious wrangler.
157.
Say not you know another entirely till you have divided an inheritance with him.
158.
Who keeps his promise punctually, and promises nothing but what he had the power and the will to keep, is as prudent as just.
159.
Who, at every promise, intends to perform more than his promise, and can depend on the sincerity of his will, is more than prudent and just.
160.
There are rapid moments of joy and of grief; moments which every one has, at least [Page 34]once in his life, that illuminate his character at once.
161.
The manner of giving shews the character of the giver more than the gift itself—there is a princely manner of giving, and a royal manner of accepting.
162.
Who forgets, and does not forget himself, in the joy of giving and of accepting is sublime.
163.
Who, at the pressing solicitation of bold and noble confidence, hesitates one moment before he consents, proves himself at once inexorable.
164.
Who, at the solicitations of cunning, self-interest, silliness, or impudence, hesitates one moment before he refuses, proves himself at once a silly giver.
165.
Examine carefully whether a man is fonder of exceptions than of rules; as he makes use of exceptions he is sagacious; as he applies them against the rule he is wrongheaded. I heard in one day a man who thought himself wise produce thrice, as rules, the [Page 35]strangest half-proved exceptions against millions of demonstrated contrary examples, and thus obtained the most intuitive idea of the sophist's character. Of all human forms and characters none is less improveable, none more intolerable or oppressive, than the race of sophists. They are intolerable against all nature, against all that is called general, demonstrated truth: they attempt to demolish the most solid and magnificent fabric with a grain of sand picked from off its stones. Such knaves, whom to tolerate exceeds almost the bounds of human toleration, avoid like serpents! If you once engage with them there is no end to wrangling. A sneer, and the helpless misery of better hearts, are their only aim and their highest enjoyment.
166.
Who speaks often hastily, sometimes slowly, now hesitates, then wanders from the question, is either in a state of confusion or stupefaction, or may be suspected of inconstancy and falsehood.
167.
Who, without call or office, industriously recalls the remembrance of past errors to confound him who has repented of them, is a villain.
168.
Whenever a man undergoes a considerable change, in consequence of being observed by others, whenever he assumes another gait, another language, than what he had before he thought himself observed, be advised to guard yourself against him.
169.
Who, present or absent, thinks and says the same of his friend and enemy—is more than honest—more than man—he is a hero.
170.
I am prejudiced in favour of him who can solicit boldly, without impudence—he has faith in humanity—he has faith in himself. No one who is not accustomed to give grandly can ask nobly and with boldness.
171.
The worst of all knaves are those who can mimic their former honesty.
172.
He who goes round about in his requests wants commonly more than he chuses to appear to want.
173.
Who crawlingly receives will give superciliously.
174.
Who rapidly decides without examining proofs will persist obstinately.
175.
Who praises what he thinks bad, and censures what he thinks good, is either unimprovably weak, or intolerably deceitful.
176.
As a man's salutation so the total of his character: in nothing do we lay ourselves so open as in our manner of meeting and salutation.
177.
Be afraid of him who meets you with friendly aspect, and, in the midst of a flattering salutation, avoids your direct open look.
178.
The presence of him is oppressive whose going away makes those he leaves easy; and he, whose presence was oppressive, was either good in bad or bad in good company.
179.
Fly both the sneaking and the boisterous; for the one will wound, the other will not defend you.
180.
Examine what, and how, and where, and when, a man praises or censures; he who [Page 38]always, and every where, and, as to essentials, in an uniform manner, censures and blames, is a man that may be depended upon.
181.
He, who has the air of being quite unconcerned at the praises bestowed upon another, is either very prudent or very envious; and at the same time convinced that those praises are deserved. Perhaps he acts nobly if, from motives of humanity, he represses his own judgment, which possibly might crush the praise.
182.
Who censures with modesty will praise with sincerity.
183.
Too much gravity argues a shallow mind.
184.
Pedantry and taste are as inconsistent as gaiety and melancholy.
185.
All finery is a sign of littleness.
186.
Slovenliness and indelicacy of character commonly go hand in hand.
187.
The sloven has no respect either for himself or others.
188.
Who makes too much or too little of himself has a false measure for every thing.
189.
He, who has no taste for order, will be often wrong in his judgments, and seldom considerate or conscientious in his actions.
190.
The more honesty a man has the less he affects the air of a saint—the affectation of sanctity is a blotch on the face of piety.
191.
There are more heroes than saints; (heroes I call rulers over the minds and destinies of men); more saints than humane characters. Him, who humanizes all that is within and around himself, adore. I know but of one such by tradition.
192.
Who in certain moments can entirely lose himself in another, and, in the midst of the greatest action, thinks of no observer, is a jewel in the crown of human nature.
193.
Who seeks those that are greater than himself, their greatness enjoys, and forgets his greatest qualities in their greater ones, is already truly great.
194.
And truly little is he who, absorbed in trifles, has no taste for the great, goes in perpetual quest of the little, and labours to impress inferiors with his own conceited greatness.
195.
The more one speaks of himself the less he likes to hear another talked of.
196.
The more you can forget others who suffer, and dwell upon yourself, who suffer not, the more contemptible is your self-love.
197.
Who partakes in another's joys is a more humane character than he who partakes in his griefs.
198.
Who can conceal his joys is greater than he who can hide his griefs.
199.
Who conceals joys is formed to invent great joys.
200.
The wrangler, the puzzler, the word hunter, are incapable of great thoughts or actions.
201.
Who, crab-like, crawls backwards when he should meet you like a friend may be suspected of plotting and falsehood.
202.
Neither the cold nor the fervid, but characters uniformly warm, are formed for friendship.
203.
The ungrateful are not so certainly bad as the grateful are certainly good characters.
204.
We see more when others converse among themselves than when they speak to us.
205.
Ask yourself of every one you are concerned with what can I give him? what is he in want of? what is he capable of accepting? what would he accept of? and if you can tell you know at least three fourths of his character.
206.
Who has no confidence in himself has no faith in others, and none in God.
207.
Who can subdue his own anger is more than strong; who can allay another's is more than wise; hold fast on him who can do both.
208.
Who seems proud wants at least the look of humility.—Light without splendour, fire without heat, humility without meekness, what are they?
209.
None love without being loved; and none beloved is without loveliness.
210.
He, whose pride oppresses the humble, may perhaps be humbled, but will never be humble.
211.
Who, at the relation of some unmerited misfortune, smiles, is either a fool, a fiend, or a villain.
212.
Who pretends to little when he might assume much, feels his own importance and oppresses not, is truly respectable.
213.
Kiss the hand of him who can renounce what he has publicly taught when convicted of his error, and who, with heartfelt joy, embraces truth, though with the sacrifice of favourite opinions.
214.
He who attaches himself to the immoral is weak and abject; or, if he have parts, plots mischief.
215.
The friend of order has made half his way to virtue.
216.
There is no mortal truly wise and restless at once—wisdom is the repose of minds.
217.
His taste is totally corrupt who loves contradictory variety or empty unconnected uniformity alone.
218.
Whom mediocrity attracts taste has abandoned.
219.
Who in giving receives, and in receiving shares the bliss of the generous giver, is noble.
220.
Make friendship with none who upbraidingly scores up against thee the moments of harmless indulgence.
221.
Who can wait the moment of maturity in speaking, writing, acting, giving, will have nothing to retract, and little to repent of.
222.
He is a great and self-poised character whom praise unnerves not; he is a greater one who supports unjust censure—the greater is he who, with acknowledged powers, represses his own, and even turns to use undeserved censure.
223.
Who, in receiving a benefit, estimates its value more closely than in conferring one, shall be a citizen of a better world.
224.
Avoid him as a fiend who makes a wry mouth at the praise bestowed on a great or noble character.
225.
Suspicion bids futurity disavow the present.
226.
Forbear to enquire into the motive of plans decidedly useful to society; nor, if they are of a nature to want general assistance, think you have done enough in concurring to vote public honours or statues to their authors.
227.
Great affairs may be intrusted, and still greater actions expected, of him who, by a single ready medium, knows how to unite and to attain many harmonious ends.
228.
He plans like a pedant who is obliged to drag a number of means to the attainment of some petty end.
229.
The more inconsiderable, common, and seemingly easy of discovery, the means to the [Page 45]attainment of some great end—the more genius is there is the plan.
230.
Imitate him whose observation passes not even the most minute, whilst it follows only the highest, objects: the seeds of grandeur lie already in himself; he gives his own turn to every thing, and borrows less than seizes with one immediate glance: such an one never stops; his flight is that of the eagle, who, like an arrow, wings the mid air, whilst his pinions appear motionless.
231.
Who (to speak with Shakspeare) lets slip the dogs of war on modest defenceless merit, and bursts out into a loud insolting laugh, when pale, timid innocence trembles—him avoid—avoid his specious calmness, the harbinger of storms—avoid his flattery, it will soon turn to the lion's roar, and the howl of wolves.
232.
The connoisseur in painting discovers an original by some great line, though covered with dust, and disguised by daubing; so he who studies man discovers a valuable character by some original trait, though unnoticed, disguised, or debased—ravished at the discovery, [Page 46]he feels it his duty to restore it to its own genuine splendour. Him who, in spite of contemptuous pretenders, has the boldness to do this, choose for your friend.
233.
He who writes with insolence, when anonymous and unknown, and speaks with timidity in the presence of the good—seems to be closely allied to baseness.
234.
Who writes what he should tell, and dares not tell what he writes, is either like a wolf in sheep's clothing or like a sheep in a wolf's skin.
235.
Despond, despair for ever, of the character and manly honesty of him who, when he has obtained forgiveness from a noble character ignobly offended, in base reliance on his magnanimity continues publicly to calumniate him.
236.
Distinguish exactly what one is when he stands alone, and acts for himself, and when he is led by others. I know many who act always honestly, often with delicacy, when left to themselves; and like knaves when influenced by some overbearing characters, whom they once slavi2hly submitted to follow.
237.
Be certain that he who has betrayed thee once will betray thee again.
238.
Know that the great art to love your enemy consists in never losing sight of man in him: humanity has power over all that is human; the most inhuman man still remains man, and never can throw off all taste for what becomes a man—but you must learn to wait.
239.
If you never judge another till you have calmly observed him, till you have heard him, heard him out, put him to the test, and compared him with yourself and others, you will never judge unjustly, you will repair whatever precipitately has escaped you.
240.
He, who is too proud to atone for wilful detraction, is a thief, who keeps possession of what he stole, and laughs at the idea of restitution as enthusiastic nonsense.
241.
The most abhorred thing in nature is the face that smiles abroad and flashes fury when it returns to the lap of a tender helpless family.
242.
Let him look to his heart whose call it is to speak for friends and against enemies: if [Page 48]calmly he speak pure truth for and against, he will stand the test of moral inquiry on earth or in heaven.
243.
Who welcomes the look of the good is good himself.
244.
I know deists whose religiousness I venerate, and atheists whose honesty and nobleness of mind I wish for; but I have not yet seen the man who could have tempted me to think him honest who publicly acted the Christian whilst privately he was a positive deist.
245.
The venal wanton, who robs her culley, is a saint to him who wheedles himself into the confidence of an honest heart, to throw his secrets to the dogs.
246.
He who laughed at you till he got to your door; flattered you as you opened it; felt the force of your argument whilst he was with you; applauded when he rose, and after he went away blasts you—has the most indisputable title to an archdukedom in hell.
247.
Who sinds the clearest not clear thinks the darkest not obscure.
248.
The merely just can generally bear great virtues as little as great vices.
249.
The craftiest wiles are too short and ragged a cloak to cover a bad heart.
250.
Who asks, without insolence, what none else dare to ask, with noble freedom answers as none else would answer; requests as none dare to request; and, without humbling or offence, gives as none other can give—is formed for friendship, is the flower of his age, and must be a prince in the world to come.
251.
Ask not only, am I hated? but, by whom?—am I loved? but, why?—As the good love thee, the bad will hate thee.
252.
Who assigns a bad motive to debase an act decidedly good, may depend on the contempt of the bad and good.
253.
Who is feared by all the weak, despised by all the strong, and hated by all the good, may securely say to himself—No matter, if there be no other rascal left on earth, I am still one.
254.
The bad man, who protects another bad man, has either committed some action notoriously bad, or plots one.
255.
The disinterested defender of oppressed humanity against an usurping tyrant—is a royal hero—and this was the time to tell it.
256.
He who is always in want of something cannot be very rich. 'Tis a poor wight who lives by borrowing the words, decisions, mien, inventions, and actions, of others.
257.
He who has opportunities to inspect the sacred moments of elevated minds, and seizes none, is a son of dulness; but he who turns those moments into ridicule will betray with a kiss, and in embracing murder.
258.
Who prefers being seen to seeing is neither sincere nor humble.
259.
The breath of envy blasts friendship: he, whom the superiority of a friend offends, will never impress an enemy with awe.
260.
Have you ever seen a pedant with a warm heart?
261.
The generous never recounts minutely the actions he has done; nor the prudent those he will do.
262.
Who can act or perform as if each work or action were first, the last, and only one in his life, is great in his sphere.
263.
Who seeks to sever friends is incapable of friendship—shall lose all that merits the name of friend, and meet a fiend in his own heart.
264.
Him, who sets out with the praise of a friend, stumbles as he proceeds on a but, and ends in rigid censure, call what you choose—but honest.
265.
Not every one who has eloquence of speech understands the eloquence of silence. He, who can express a great meaning by silence when much might have been said pointedly, and when a common man would have been prolix, will speak in the moment of decision like an oracle.
266.
We can do all by speech and silence. He, who understands the double art of speaking [Page 52]opportunely to the moment, and of saying not a syllable more or less than it demanded—and he who can wrap himself up in silence when every word would be in vain—will understand to connect energy with patience.
267.
Just as you are pleased at finding faults, you are displeased at finding perfections.
He gives me the most perfect idea of a fiend who suffers at the perfections of others, and enjoys their errors.
268.
Let the unhappiness you feel at another's errors, and the happiness you enjoy in their perfections, be the measure of your progress in wisdom and virtue.
269.
Who becomes every day more sagacious, in observing his own faults, and the perfections of another, without either envying him or despairing of himself, is ready to mount the ladder on which angels ascend and descend.
270.
He, who seeks to imbitter innocent pleasure, has a cancer in his heart.
271.
He, who is good before invisible witnesses, is eminently so before the visible.
272.
The more there is of mind in your solitary employments, the more dignity there is in your character.
273.
He, who attempts to make others believe in means which he himself despises, is a puffer: he, who makes use of more means than he knows to be necessary, is quack; and he, who ascribes to those means a greater efficacy than his own experience warrants, is an impostor.
274.
He is not a step from real greatness who gives to his own singular experiments neither more nor less importance than their own nature warrants.
275.
He, who can at all times sacrifice pleasure to duty, approaches sublimity.
276.
The calm presence of a sublime mind inspires veneration, excites great thoughts and noble sentiments in the wise and good.
277.
The most eloquent speaker, the most ingenuous writer, and the most accomplished statesman, cannot effect so much as the mere [Page 54]presence of the man who tempers his wisdom and his vigour with humanity.
278.
He who maliciously takes advantage of the unguarded moments of friendship, is no farther from knavery than the latest moment of evening from the first of night.
279.
Between the best and the worst, there are, you say, innumerable degrees—and you are right; but admit that I am right too, in saying that the best and the worst differ only in one thing—in the object of their love.
280.
What is it you love in him you love? what is it you hate in him you hate? Answer this closely to yourself, pronounce it loudly, and you will know yourself and him.
281.
There is no object in nature and the world without its good, useful, or amiable, side.—Who discovers that side first in inanimate things, is sagacious; and who discovers it in the animate, is liberal.
282.
If you see one cold and vehement at the same time, set him down for a fanatic.
283.
The calmly warm is wise and noble.
284.
It is a short step from modesty to humility; but a shorter one from vanity to folly, and from weakness to falsehood.
285.
Who can hide magnanimity stands on the supreme degree of human nature.
286.
Who demands of you what he knows he never gave you, stands on the lowest degree of human nature, and is despised by the best and worst.
287.
Who, from negligence, defers the restitution of things perpetually redemanded, has lies on his right and theft on his left.
288.
He, who has the impudence either to exhibit as good, an action undeniably bad—or ascribes a bad motive to another, undeniably good—is at once a false coiner and a juggler.
289.
You need not hear seven words (said a peasant whom I passed this 28th of September, 1787, whilst I was meditating these rules); you need not hear seven words to know a man, five or six are sufficient.
290.
The proverbial wisdom of the populace in gates, on roads, and markets, instructs the attentive ear of him who studies man more fully than a thousand rules ostentatiously arranged.
291.
He has not a little of the devil in him who prays and bites.
292.
He who, when called upon to speak a disagreeable truth, tells it boldly and has done, is both bolder and milder than he who nibbles in a low voice, and never ceases nibbling.
293.
As the shadow follows the body, so restless sullenness the female knave.
294.
As the wily subtility of him who is intent on gain, so the abrupt brutality of him who has gained enough.
295.
Be not the fourth friend of him who had three before and lost them.
296.
Who is never rash in letters, will seldom be so in speech or actions.
297.
He, whose letters are the real transcript of friendly conversation, without affected effusions of sentiment or wit, seems to have a heart formed for friendship.
298.
Want of friends argues either want of humility or courage, or both.
299.
He, who, at a table of forty covers, thirtynine of which are exquisite, and one indifferent, lays hold of that, and with a "damn your dinner," dashes it in the landlord's face, should be sent to Bethlem or to Bridewell— and whither he, who blasphemes a book, a work of art, or perhaps a man, of nine-and-thirty good and but one bad quality, and calls those fools or flatterers who, engrossed by the superior number of good qualities, would fain forget the bad one.
300.
Pull off your hat before him whom fortune has exalted above ten thousand; but put it on again with both your hands if he laugh at fortune.
301.
Who turns up his nose is unfit for friendship.
302.
The collector who trifles not, and heaps knowledge without pedantry, is a favourite of Nature.
303.
Who parodies a good character without a desire of improving him, has a bad heart.
304.
Let the four-and-twenty elders in heaven rise before him who, from motives of humanity, can totally suppress an arch, full-pointed, but offensive bon mot.
305.
Him, who incessantly laughs in the street, you may commonly hear grumbling in his closet.
306.
Who will not see where he should or could, shall not see when he would.
307.
Be sure that every knave is a sop or coward when a downright honest man plants himself over against him.
308.
Insolence, where there is no danger, is despondence where there is.
309.
He, who is led by the passionate, has three enemies to cope with during life—the contempt [Page 59]of the good, the tyranny of his leaders, and rankling discontent.
310.
The sooner you forget your moral intuition the weaker, the less to be depended on, yourself.
311.
Trust him with little who, without proofs, trusts you with every thing; or, when he has proved you, with nothing.
312.
Compare carefully and frequently the different ways in which the same person speaks with you and with others; before you, and with you alone; or, in the presence of others, on the same topic.
313.
Call him Saint who can forget his own sufferings in the minute griefs of others.
314.
He, who loses the sun in his spots—a beautiful face in a few freckles—and a grand character in a few harmless singularities—may choose, of two appellations, one—wronghead or knave.
315.
He alone, who makes use of his enemies to improve the knowledge of himself, is seriously inclined to grow better.
316.
Who, purposely, cheats his friend, would cheat his God.
317.
She neglects her heart who studies her glass.
318.
Keep him at least three paces distant who hates bread, music, and the laugh of a child.
319.
Could you but hear how one speaks to the poor and despised, when he thinks himself unobserved, you might form a judgment of his character.
320.
It is a mighty mind that praises an enemy, and grasps at never-fading honours.
321.
He, who in questions of right, virtue, or duty, sets himself above all possible ridicule, is truly great, and shall laugh in the end with truer mirth than ever he was laughed at.
322.
A merchant who always tells truth, and a genius who never lies, are synonymous to a saint.
323.
Between passion and lie there is not a finger's breadth.
324.
Avoid, like a serpent, him who writes impertinently, yet speaks politely.
325.
He is good enough for the present and future world who is content with a fourth, is grateful for the half, and gives more than measure.
326.
He can bear his griefs in silence who can moderate his joys.
327.
He, who shuts out all evasion when he promises, loves truth.
328.
Search carefully if one patiently finishes what he boldly began.
329.
Who comes from the kitchen smells of its smoke; who adheres to a sect has something of its cant: the college-air pursues the student, and dry inhumanity him who herds with literary pedants.
330.
As you receive the stranger, so you receive your God.
331.
Call him truly religious who believes in something higher, more powerful, more living, [Page 62]than visible nature; and who, clear as his own existence, feels his conformity to that superior being.
332.
Superstition always inspires littleness, religion grandeur of mind: the superstitious raises beings inferior to himself to deities.
333.
Who are the saints of humanity? Those whom perpetual habits of goodness and of grandeur have made nearly unconscious that what they do is good or grand—heroes with infantine simplicity.
334.
To know man, borrow the ear of the blind and the eye of the deaf.
335.
The jealous is possessed by a "fine mad devil *" and a dull spirit at once.
336.
He has surely a good heart who abounds in contriving means to prevent animosities.
337.
He has the stamp of a great soul who hides his deepest grief from the friend whom he might trust even with the communication of vices.
338.
The words of love sleep in the ear that is too dull to comprehend her silence.
339.
The mind, whose trifling griefs or joys can absorb the general joys and griefs of others, is lamentably little.
340.
He, whom no losses impoverish, is truly rich.
341.
That mind alone is great in which every point, and the tides and ebbs of power that support or shrink from that point, can fluctuate with ease.
342.
He alone has energy that cannot be deprived of it.
343.
Sneers are the blasts that precede quarrels.
344.
Who loves will not be adored.
345.
He who renders full justice to his enemy, shall have friends to adore him.
346.
Number among thy worst of enemies—the hawker of malicious rumours and unexplored anecdote.
347.
Let me repeat it: if you cannot bear to be told by your bosom friend that you have a strong breath, you deserve not to have a friend.
348.
No little man feels and forgives offences.
349.
No great character cavils.
350.
The convivial joys of him whose solitude is joyless, are the forerunners of misery.
351.
He alone is an acute observer, who can observe minutely without being observed.
352.
Good may be done by the bad—but the good alone can be good.
353.
It is not the privilege of vulgar minds to mark the line between the friend and lover, and never step beyond.
354.
He who is always the same, and never the same, resembles God.
355.
He can love who can forget all and nothing.
356.
The purest religion is the most refined Epicurism. He, who in the smallest given [Page 65]time can enjoy most of what he never shall repent, and what furnishes enjoyments, still more unexhausted, still less changeable—is the most religious and the most voluptuous of men.
357.
He knows little of the Epicurism of reason and religion, who examines the dinner in the kitchen.
358.
I esteem the wisdom and calmness of mind that always can reserve the best for the end.
359.
Who slowly notices requests and prayers, is either a tyrant or a god.
360.
The generous, who is always just—and the just, who is always generous—may, unannounced, approach the throne of God.
361.
There are but three classes of men—the retrogade, the stationary, the progressive.
362.
Who of man's race is immortal? He that fixes moments and gives perennity to transitory things.
363.
He alone shall stem oblivion who, in the moments and effects of his exertions, can both forget himself and make others forget him.
364.
He has convivial talents who makes the eater forget his meal; and he has oratory who ravishes his hearers, whilst he forgets himself.
365.
Let me once more, in other words, repeat it—he is the king of kings who longs for nothing and wills but one at once.
366.
Spare the lover without flattering his passion: to make the pangs of love the butt of ridicule, is unwise and harsh—soothing meekness and wisdom subdue in else unconquerable things.
367.
There is none so bad to do the twentieth part of the evil he might, nor any so good as to do the tenth part of the good it is in his power to do. Judge of yourself by the good you might do and neglect—and of others by the evil they might do and omit—and your judgment will be poised between too much indulgence for yourself, and too much severity on others.
368.
Fly him who, from mere curiosity, asks three questions running about a thing that cannot interest him.
369.
The firm, without pliancy—and the pliant, without firmness—resemble vessels without water, water without vessels.
370.
To him who is simple, and inexhaustible, like nature, simple and inexhausted nature resigns her sway.
371.
He rules himself with power who can spontaneously repress his laughter; but he who can hide emotions of love exerts still greater energy.
372.
Who loves from humour, egotism, or interest, will hate from the same motives; and he, whose sympathies mere humours sway, shall have unstable friends and constant enemies.
373.
How can he be pious who loves not the beautiful, whilst piety is nothing but the love of beauty? Beauty we call the most varied One, the most united variety. Could there be a man who should harmoniously unite each variety of knowledge and of powers—would he not be most beautiful? would he not be a god?
374.
Incredible are his powers who desires nothing that he cannot will.
375.
The unloved cannot love.
376.
Let the object of love be careful to lose none of its loveliness.
377.
Bow to him who bows not to the flatterer.
378.
Bid farewell to all grandeur if envy stir within thee.
379.
We cannot be great if we calculate how great we and how little others are, and calculate not how great others, how minute, how impotent ourselves.
380.
The prudent sees only the difficulties, the bold only the advantages, of a great enterprize; the hero sees both, diminishes those, makes these preponderate, and conquers.
381.
He loves unalterably who keeps within the bounds of love. Who always shews somewhat less than what he is possessed of—nor ever utters a syllable, or gives a hint, of more than what in fact remains behind—is just and friendly in the same degree.
382.
Few can tell what he can operate who has oeconomy of words without scarcity, and liberality without profusion.
383.
He, who observes the speaker more than the sound of words, will seldom meet with disappointments.
384.
Neither the anxious, who are commonly fretful and severe; nor the careless, who are always without elasticity—the serenely serious alone are formed for friendship.
385.
Evasions are the common shelter of the hard-hearted, the false, and impotent, when called upon to assist; the real great alone plan instantaneous help, even when their looks or words presage difficulties.
386.
Who kindles love loves warmly.
387.
He who cannot perform, and scorns him who incessantly performs, is idiot and knave at once.
388.
The powerful, who notices the exertions of an inferior, has something of the character [Page 70]of Him who, in exchange for a relinquished boat, promised the owner one of the twelve first thrones of heaven.
389.
He is more than great who instructs his offender whilst he forgives him.
390.
There is a manner of forgiving so divine, that you are ready to embrace the offender for having called it forth.
391.
Expect the secret resentment of him whom your forgiveness has impressed with a sense of his inferiority; expect the resentment of the woman whose proffered love you have repulsed; yet surer still expect the unceasing rancour of envy against the progress of genius and merit—Renounce the hopes of reconciling him: but know, that whilst you steer on, mindless of his grin, all-ruling destiny will either change his rage to awe, or blast his powers to their deepest root.
392.
He is not ignorant of man who knows the value and effect of words: and he, who fears nothing less and attends to nothing more than words, has true philosophy.
393.
He has honesty, vigour, dignity, who in the first transports of invention promises less than he will probably perform.
394.
Then talk of patience when you have borne him who has none, without repining.
395.
Who lies in wait for errors, neither to mend them in persons, nor to justify his choice in things, is on a road where good hearts are seldom met.
396.
Volatility of words is carelessness in acts— words are the wings of actions.
397.
Whatever is visible is the vessel or veil of the invisible past, present, future.—As man penetrates to this more, or perceives it less, he raises or depresses his dignity of being.
398.
Let none turn over books or roam the stars in quest of God who sees him not in man.
399.
He alone is good, who, though possessed of energy, prefers virtue, with the appearance of weakness, to the invitation of acting brilliantly ill.
400.
Intuition (what the French call 'coup d'oeil') is the greatest, simplest, most inexhausted gift a mortal can receive from heaven: who has that has all; and who has it not has little of what constitutes the good and great.
401.
How can he be sincere or prudent who, without Omnipotence, pretends to confer unbounded obligations?
402.
There is no end to the inconveniencies arising from the want of punctuality.
403.
As the presentiment of the possible, deemed impossible, so genius, so heroism—the hero, the man of genius, are prophets.
404.
He, who goes one step beyond his real faith or presentiment, is in danger of deceiving himself and others.
405.
The greater value you set upon what others sacrifice for you, and the less you esteem what you resign for others, the nobler your nature, the more exalted are you.
406.
He, who to obtain much will suffer little or nothing, can never be called great; and [Page 73]none ever little, who, to obtain one great object, will suffer much.
407.
He has the sole privilege, the exclusive right, of saying all and doing all, who has suffered all that can be suffered, to confer on others all the pleasures they once rejected and which they can enjoy.
408.
He only sees well who sees the whole in the parts, and the parts in the whole. I know but three classes of men—those who see the whole, those who see but a part, and those who see both together.
409.
You beg as you question; you give as you answer.
410.
As you hear so you think; as you look so you feel.
411.
Who seizes too rapidly drops as hastily.
412.
Who grasps firmly can hold safely, and keep long.
413.
He knows little of man who trusts him with much that cares for no one.
414.
Love sees what no eye sees; love hears what no ear hears; and what never rose in the heart of man, love prepares for its object.
415.
Hatred sees what no eye sees: Enmity hears what no ear hears: and what never rose in the murderer's breast, Envy prepares for him that is fortunate and noble.
416.
Him, who arravs malignity in good nature and treachery in familiarity, a miracle of Omnipotence alone can make an honest man.
417.
He, who sets fire to one part of a town to rob more safely in another, is, no doubt, a villain: what will you call him, who, to avert suspicion from himself, accuses the innocent of a crime he knows himself guilty of, and means to commit again?
418.
I know no friends more faithful, more inseparable, than hard-heartedness and pride, humility and love, lies and impudence.
419.
I have heard nothing but what is good of such an one, yet I cannot love him heartily; that is, I can have no dependence on his taste, his love of order, his rectitude—because he [Page 75]suffers two ornaments, of dimensions exactly similar, to hang together, the one two inches higher than the other.
420.
I will take upon me to create a world tomorrow, if to-day I can give rectitude of heart to one pettyfogging attorney.
421.
As your hearty participation in the joys and griefs of others, so your humanity and religion.
422.
The richer you are the more calmly you bear the reproach of poverty: the more genius you have the more easily you bear the imputation of mediocrity.
423.
He, who gives himself airs of importance, exhibits the credentials of impotence.
424.
He, who is always to be waited for, is indolent, neglectful, proud, or altogether.
425.
There is no instance of a miser becoming a prodigal without losing his intellect; but there are thousands of prodigals becoming misers: if, therefore, your turn be profuse, nothing is so much to be avoided as avarice: and, if you be a miser, procure a physician who can cure an irremediable disorder.
426.
Baseness and avarice are more inseparable than generosity and magnanimity.
427.
Avarice has sometimes been the flaw of great men, but never of great minds: great men produce effects that cannot be produced by a thousand of the vulgar; but great minds are stamped with expanded benevolence, unattainable by most.
428.
There are many who have great strength and little vigour; others who have much vigour and little strength: strength bears what few can bear, vigour effects what few can effect—he is truly great who unites both in the same degree.
429.
Vigour, without strength, always makes others suffer; and strength, without vigour, ourselves. Examine how these operate, and you will know yourself.
430.
He is much greater and more authentic, who produces one thing entire and perfect, than he who does many by halves.
431.
He, who can rail at benevolence, has set his heel on the neck of religion.
432.
Who, in the presence of a great man, treats you as if you were not present, is equally proud and little.
433.
He, who cannot discover, acknowledge, and esteem, the reasonable part of incredulity and the respectable of superstition, wants much of three qualities which make man man, and God God—wisdom, vigour, love.
434.
Say what you please of your humanity, no wise man will ever believe a syllable while I and mine are the two only gates at which you sally forth and enter, and through which alone all must pass who seek admittance.
435.
Who, from motives of love hides love, loves ineffably and eternally.
436.
Who hides hatred to accomplish revenge is great, like the prince of hell.
437.
Who hides love to bless with unmixed happiness is great, like the king of heaven.
438.
Let him not share the most remote corner of your heart, who, without being your intimate, hangs prying over your shoulder whilst you are writing.
439.
Trust not him with your secrets, who, when left alone in your room, turns over your papers.
440.
A woman, whose ruling passion is not vanity, is superior to any man of equal faculties.
441.
He who has but one way of seeing every thing, is as important for him who studies man as fatal to friendship.
442.
Who has written will write again, says the Frenchman; he who has written against you will write against you again: he who has begun certain things is under the curse of leaving off no more.
443.
He, who rather discovers the great in the little than the little in the great, is not far distant from greatness.
444.
Harmlessness and genuine friendship are as inseparable as beam and reflection.
445.
He is not easily taught who is sometimes quick and sometimes slow in his answers.
446.
The half-character, who has impudence enough to attempt domineering over the [Page 79]whole one, is, of all tyrants, calumniators, and villains, the most insufferable.
447.
Who asks two questions at once will easily give one answer for another; frequently commit gross blunders; and seldom adhere to truth when he relates.
448.
Who always prefaces his tale with laughter is poisoned between impertinence and folly.
449.
Thinkers are scarce as gold: but he, whose thought embraces all his subject, pursues it uninterruptedly and fearless of consequences, is a diamond of enormous size.
450.
Nothing is more impartial than the stream-like public: always the same and never the same; of whom, sooner or later, each misrepresented character obtains justice, and each calumniated honour: he who cannot wait for that, is either ignorant of human nature or feels that he was not made for honour.
451.
You will sooner transpose mountains than without violence subdue another's indolence and obstinacy: if you can conquer your own, depend on it you shall accomplish what you can will.
452.
The obstinacy of the indolent and weak is less conquerable than that of the fiery and bold.
453.
Who, with calm wisdom alone, imperceptibly directs the obstinacy of others, will be the most eligible friend or the most dreadful enemy.
454.
He is both outrageously vain and malicious who ascribes the best actions of the good to vanity alone.
455.
He is condemned to depend on no man's modesty and honour, who dares not depend on his own.
456.
An insult offered to a respectable character were often less pardonable than a precipitate murder—he who can indulge himself in that may bear assassinations on his conscience.
457.
Nothing is so pregnant as cruelty: so multiparous, so rapid, so ever-teeming a mother is unknown to the animal kingdom; each of her experiments provokes another, and refines upon the last—though always progressive, yet always remote from the end.
458.
Smiles at the relation of inhumanities betray, at least, a fund of inhumanity.
459.
He who avoids the glass aghast, at the caricature of morally debased features, feels mighty strife of virtue and of vice.
460.
The silence of him who else commends with applause, is indirect but nervous censure.
461.
Neither he who incessantly hunts after the new, nor he who fondly doats on the old, is just.
462.
The gazer in the streets wants a plan for his head and an object for his heart.
463.
The creditor who humanely spares an ungrateful debtor, has few steps to make towards the circle of saints.
464.
The creditor, whose appearance gladdens the heart of a debtor, may hold his head in sunbeams and his foot on storms.
465.
If you mean to escape your creditor or enemy, avoid him not.
466.
Who purposely abuses the bounty of unconditional benevolence, has a seat prepared for him at the right hand of the throne of hell.
467.
The frigid smiler, crawling, indiscreet, obtrusive, brazen-faced, is a scorpion-whip of destiny—avoid him!
468.
Nature bids thee not to love deformity; be content to discover and to do justice to its better part.
469.
The rapid, who can bear the slow with patience, can bear all injuries.
470.
Absolute impartiality is not perhaps the lot of man: but where, open or hid, bitter partiality dwells, there too dwells inward anarchy and insanability of mind.
471.
He knows nothing of men who expects to convince a determined party-man: and he nothing of the world who despairs of the final impartiality of the public.
472.
Who indiscriminately returns caresses for caresses, and flattery for flattery, will, with equal indifference, forget them when they are passed.
473.
He alone is a man who can resist the genius of the age, the tone of fashion, with vigorous simplicity and modest courage.
474.
To him who discovers not immediately the true accent of innocence, and reveres it like an oracle—shew, as to all the world, your face, but lock your heart for ever.
475.
Who gives a trifle meanly is meaner than the trifle.
476.
Distrust your heart and the durability of your fame; if from the stream of occasion you snatch a handful of foam, deny the stream and give its name to the frothy bursting bubble.
477.
If you ask me which is the real hereditary sin of human nature, do you imagine I shall answer pride, or luxury, or ambition, or egotism? No; I shall say indolence—who conquers indolence will conquer all the rest.
478.
Assure yourself that he has not the most distant scent of human nature who weens that he is able to alter it, or thinks to obtain that easily of others which he can never obtain of himself.
479.
An entirely honest man, in the severe sense of the word, exists no more than an entirely dishonest knave: the best and the worst are only approximations of those qualities. Who are those that never contradict themselves? yet honesty never contradicts itself: Who are those that always contradict themselves? yet knavery is mere self-contradiction. Thus the knowledge of man determines not the things themselves, but their proportions, the quantum of congruities and incongruities.
480.
Who instantly, without evasion, gives a dispassionate refusal of what he can, or will not give, will give to his most rapid yes the firmness of an oath.
481.
Trust him little who praises all, him less who censures all, and him least who is indifferent about all.
482.
Who prorogues the honesty of to-day till to-morrow, will probably prorogue his to-morrows * to eternity.
483.
Whom every book delights which he reads none has instructed which he read.
484.
He who judges perversely on a clear simple subject, on which a promiscuous number of impartial people have judged uniformly—proves an obliquity of mind which takes all weight from his opinion on any other subject.
485.
The cruelty of the effiminate is more dreadful than that of the hardy.
486.
Sense seeks and finds the thought; the thought seeks and finds genius.
487.
He who, silent, loves to be with us—he who loves us in our silence—has touched one of the keys that ravish hearts.
488.
He who violates another's liberty is a tyrant and a slave at once.
489.
Fly him who affects silence.
490.
He is vain, proud, oppressive, who at and after every word he says, with open rolling eye, examines to the right and left what features and what looks he roused.
491.
Who knows the moment of ceasing knows the moment of beginning, and that of proceeding. [Page 86]Judge of no man's prudence, experience, or genius, till you have witnessed some of his fin [...]li.
492.
The more there is of gradation in virtue, the more dramatic the energies of goodness and benevolence, the more sublime their character.
493.
No wheedler loves.
494.
Great minds comprehend more in a word, a look, the squeeze of a hand, than vulgar men in day-long conversation, or the most assiduous correspondence.
495.
The more one gives, or receives, or sees, or comprehends, in little, the greater, the more alive, the more human he.
496.
The poet, who composes not before the moment of inspiration, and as that leaves him ceases—composes, and he alone, for all men, all classes, all ages.
497.
He, who has frequent moments of complete existence, is a hero, though not laurelled; is, crowned and without crowns, a king: he only who has enjoyed immortal moments can reproduce them.
498.
The greater that which you can hide, the greater yourself.
499.
Three days of uninterrupted company in a vehicle, will make you better acquainted with another than one hour's conversation with him every day for three years.
500.
Where true wisdom is there surely is repose of mind, patience, dignity, delicacy. Wisdom without these is dark light, heavy ease, sonorous silence.
501.
Him, whom opposition and adversity have left little, fortune and applause will not make great. Inquire after the sufferings of great men and you will know why they are great.
502.
He, whose sole silent presence checks pitiful conceits, enobles vulgar minds, and calls forth uncommon ones, may lay claim to grandeur.
503.
Him, who makes familiarity the tool of mischief, moral precepts can as little recall to virtue as medical prescriptions a decayed habit to health.
504.
He, who cannot forgive a trespass of malice to his enemy, has never yet tasted the most sublime enjoyment of love.
505.
He, who forgives a trespass of sentiment to a friend, is as unworthy of friendship as that friend.
506.
It is the summit of humility to bear the imputation of pride.
507.
He who sees, produces, honours what is respectable in the despised, and what is excellent in misrepresented characters—he, who prefers a cluster of jewels, with one unique, and many trifling stones, to one composed-all of good, but no one unique—he, who in a book, feels forcibly its genius, its unattainable part, is formed by nature to be a man and a friend.
508.
You may have hot enemies without having a warm friend; but not a fervid friend without a bitter enemy. The qualities of your friends will be those of your enemies: cold friends, cold enemies—half friends, half enemies—fervid enemies, warm friends.
509.
Late beginners seldom attain the end without difficulty. There are few privileged minds who defer long, and with rapidity perform better than the considerate who have consulted time; but there are some who resemble torrents swelled by delay; who, in those moments of pressure, not only exerts genius, but gives to his labours their roundest finish, the neatest order, their most elegant polish—classes with those few mortals who have the privilege to do, or leave undone, as they please. He is one of those whose faults carry their atonement with them—whom the offended and the envious with equal astonishment applaud, and never permit themselves a farther doubt about their royal prerogative.
510.
Learn the value of a man's words and expressions and you know him. Each man has a measure of his own for every thing; this he offers you inadvertently in his words. Who has a superlative for every thing wants a measure for the great or small.
511.
He, who reforms himself, has done more toward reforming the public than a crowd of noisy impotent patriots.
512.
If Pius the Sixth (I often said) be not in his person king of the emperor it is foolish enough to go to Vienna; but if his person be the pope's pope, he may go and do immortal acts. It is personally only we can act durably—he who knows this, knows more than a thousand polyhistors.
513.
He will do great things who can avert his words and thoughts from past irremediable evils.
514.
He, who stands on a height, sees farther than those who are placed in a bottom; but let him not fancy that he shall make them believe all he sees.
515.
He that can jest at love has never loved: "He jests at scars that never felt a wound. *"
516.
He, who is ever intent on great ends, has an eagle-eye for great means, and scorns not the smallest.
517.
Who attempts to cover what can not be covered, is an idiot and hypocrite at once.
518.
He is familiar with celestial wisdom, and seems instructed by superior spirits, who can annihilate a settled prejudice against him.
519.
True love, like the eye, can bear no flaw.
520.
Spectacles on the eyes of the blind, and literature in the pedant's mouth, are folly.
521.
The hottest water extinguishes fire, and the affected heat of a cold character, friendship.
522.
Take from Luther his roughness and siery courage; from Calvin his hectic obstinacy; from Erasmus his timid prudence; hypocrisy and fanaticism from Cromwell; from Henry IV. his sanguine character; mysticism from Fenelon; from Hume his all-unhinging subtilty; love of paradox and brooding suspicion from Rousseau; naivetè and elegance of knavery from Voltaire; from Milton the extravagance of his all-personifying fancy; from Raffaelle his dryness and nearly hard precision; and from Rubens his supernatural luxury of colour:—deduct this oppressive exuberance from each; rectify them according to your own taste—what will be the result? your own [Page 92]correct, pretty, flat, useful—for me, to be sure, quite convenient vulgarity. And why this amongst maxims of humanity? that you may learn to know this exuberance, this leven of each great character, and its effects on contemporaries and posterity—that you may know where d, e, f, is, there must be a, b, c: he alone has knowledge of man, who knows the ferment that raises each character, and makes it that which it shall be, and something more or less than it shall be.
523.
I have often, too often, been tempted, at the daily relation of new knaveries, to despise human nature in every individual, till, on minute anatomy of each trick, I found that the knave was only an enthusiast or momentary fool. This discovery of momentary folly, symptoms of which assail the wisest and the best, has thrown a great consolatory light on my inquiries into man's moral nature: by this the theorist is enabled to assign to each class and each individual their own peculiar fit of vice or folly; and to contrast the ludicrous or dismal catalogue with the pleasing one of sentiment and virtue, more properly their own.
524.
He, who is master of the fittest moment to crush his enemy, and magnanimously neglects it, is born to be a conqueror.
525.
Pretend not to self-knowledge if you find nothing worse within you than what enmity or calumny dares loudly lay to your charge.
526.
You are not very good if you are not better than your best friends imagine you to be.
527.
You are not yet a great man because you are railed at by many little, and esteemed by some great characters; then only you deserve that name when the cavils of the insignificant and the esteem of the great keep you at equal distance from pride and despondence, invigorate your courage and add to your humility.
528.
Some characters of the utmost activity are much calmer than the most inactive: distinguish always between indolence and calmness; calmness is the beginning and end of useful activity; indolence the beginning, middle and end of uniform apathy for all activity.
529.
A great woman not imperious, a fair woman not vain, a woman of common talents [Page 94]not jealous, an accomplished woman who scorns to shine—are four wonders just great enough to be divided among the four quarters of the globe.
530.
He who freely praises what he means to purchase—and he who enumerates the faults of what he means to sell—may set up a partnership of honesty.
531.
He, who despises the great, is condemned to honour the little: and he who is in love with trifles, can have no taste for the great.
532.
He has a claim to prudence who feels his weakness and knows how to disguise it; but he is great who, with a full sense of his strength, scorns to exert it.
533.
Depend not much upon your rectitude, if you are uneasy in the presence of the good; nor trust to your humility if you are mortified when you are not noticed.
534.
He, who chooses to consider the ambiguous action of an enemy in its fairest light, has some acquaintance with the heart of man, and is a friend to virtue.
535.
He, who is in want of witnesses in order to be good, has neither virtue nor religion.
536.
When a prince, and he who has been frequently deceived, do not give themselves entirely up to suspicion, they may be ranked amongst the truly great.
537.
Some are ambitious who have no idea of true honour—they may be properly called name-hunters: he is truly pitiable whose only wish is to be spoken of
538.
Attend to the accidental epithets which men of wit throw out on the mention of a merely honest character, and you will have a guide to the knowledge of their hearts.
539.
He, who hates the wisest and best of men, hates the Father of men; for, where is the Father of men to be seen but in the most perfect of his children?
540.
He who always seeks more light the more he finds, and finds more the more he seeks, is one of the few happy mortals who take and give in every point of time: the tide and [Page 96]ebb of giving and receiving, is the sum of human happiness, which he alone enjoys who always wishes to acquire new knowledge, and always finds it.
541.
The executioner who, in the fatal moment, laughs in the criminal's face, must be a wretch. What will you call the critic who debases himself to be both the executioner and libellest of him he reviews?
542.
He, who adores an impersonal God, has none; and, without guide or rudder, launches on an immense abyss that first absorbs his powers, and next himself.
543.
Let him, who wishes to conquer obstinacy, desire the contrary of what he means to obtain.
544.
The enemy of art is the enemy of nature; art is nothing but the highest sagacity and exertion of human nature; and what nature will he honour who honours not the human?
545.
It is possible that a wise and good man may be prevailed on to game; but it is impossible that a professed gamester should be a wise and good man.
546.
Where there is much pretension, much has been borrowed—nature never pretends.
547.
Do you think him a common man who can make what is common exquisite?
548.
He who believes every promise believes every tale, and is superstitious: he who doubts every promise doubts every tale, and soon will be incredulous to his own eye.
549.
Whose promise may you depend upon? his who dares refuse what he knows he cannot perform; who promises calmly, strictly, conditionally, and never excites a hope which he may disappoint.
550.
You promise as you speak.
551.
He, who is ashamed of the poor in the presence of the rich, and of the unknown in the presence of the celebrated, may become a base enemy, but never a fast friend.
552.
Avoid him who speaks softly, and writes sharply.
553.
The proportion of genius to the vulgar is like one to a million; but genius without tyranny, without pretension, that judges the weak with equity, the superior with humility, and equals with justice—is like one to ten millions.
554.
To share a heavy burden merely to case another is noble—to do it cheerfully, sublime.
555.
Slow givers give meanly or with grandeur.
556.
Neither patience nor inspiration can give wings to a snail—you waste your own force, you destroy what remained of energy in the indolent, by urging him to move beyond his rate of power.
557.
To enjoy blunders may proceed from a comic turn; but to enjoy blunders because they make the blunderer contemptible, is a step toward the fiend-like joy that fosters crimes as causes of perdition to others and of emolument to you.
558.
A perfidious friend will be the assassin of his enemy.
559.
He, who feels himself impelled to calumniate the good, need not much doubt the existence of daemoniacs;
560.
Or he that of a fiend who renders bad for good, and enjoys the exchange.
561.
Indiscriminate familiarity admits of no intimate.
562.
Questions for no purpose, questions quicker than answers can be given, questions after things that interest him not, mark an idiot.
563.
Your humility is equal to your desire of being unobserved in your acts of virtue.
564.
There are certain light characteristic momentary seatures of man, which, in spite of masks and all exterior mummery, represent him as he is and shall be. If once in an individual you have discovered one ennobling feature, let him debase it, let it at times shrink from him, no matter; he will, in the end, prove superior to thousands of his critics.
565.
Truth, Wisdom, Love, seek reasons; Malice only causes.
566.
The man who has and uses but one scale for every thing, for himself and his enemy, the past and the future, the grand and the trifle, for truth and error, virtue and vice, religion, superstition, infidelity: for nature, art, and works of genius and art—is truly wise, just, great.
567.
The infinitely little constitutes the infinite difference in works of art, and in the degrees of morals and religion; the greater the rapidity, precision, acuteness, with which this is observed and determined, the more authentic, the greater the observer.
568.
Make not him your friend who sneaks off when a superior appears.
569.
Call him both wise and great, who, with superior claims to notice from the powerful and princely, can calmly suffer others to approach them nearer.
570.
Range him high amongst your saints, who, with all-acknowledged powers, and his own stedfast scale for every thing, can, on the call of judgment or advice, submit to transpose [Page 101]himself into another's situation, and to adopt his point of sight.
571.
Think none, and least of all yourself, sincere or honest, if you tell the public of a man what you would not dare to tell him in good company, or face to face.
572.
No communications and no gifts can exhaust genius, or impoverish charity.
573.
Few possess the art to give exactly that which none but they can give; to give directly then when want is fully rife; and to give only so, that the receivers may enjoy and recollect with joy the moment of the gift—he who can give so is a god amongst men.
574.
You never saw a vulgar character disinterestedly sensible of the value of time.
575.
Distrust yourself if you fear the eye of the sincere; but be afraid of neither God or man, if you have no reason to distrust yourself.
576.
Who comes as he goes, and is present as he came and went, is sincere.
577.
Save me from him who is inexhaustible in evasions when he is called upon to do a good thing, and teems with excuses when he has done a bad one.
578.
He loves grandly (I speak of friendship) who is not jealous when he has partners of love.
579.
Examine closely whether he who talks of illustration means to clear up or only to glitter, dazzle, and consume.
580.
He knows himself greatly who never opposes his genius.
581.
Maxims are as necessary for the weak, as rules for the beginner: the master wants neither rule nor principle; he possesses both without thinking of them.
582.
If you are destitute of sentiment, principle, genius, and instruction, you may be supposed unfit for science and for virtue: but, if without genius you pretend to excel; if without sentiment you affect to think yourself superior to established principle; know that you are [Page 103]as much between fool and knave as you are between right and left.
583.
Young men—know, that downright decision, on things which only experience can teach, is the credential of vain impertinence!
584.
Neatness begets order; but from order to taste there is the same distance as from taste to genius, or from love to friendship.
585.
Believe not in the legitimacy or durability of any effect that is derived from egotism alone—all the miscarriages of prudence are bastards of egotism.
586.
"Love as if you could hate and might be hated;"—a maxim of detested prudence in real friendship, the bane of all tenderness, the death of all familiarity. Consider the fool who follows it as nothing inferior to him who at every bit of bread trembles at the thought of its being poisoned.
587.
"Hate as if you could love or should be loved;"—him who follows this maxim, if all the world were to declare an idiot and enthusiast, I shall esteem, of all men, the most eminently formed for friendship.
588.
If you support not the measure you approve of by your voice, you decide against it by silence.
589.
As you name ten different things so you name ten thousand; as you tell ten different stories so you tell ten thousand.
590.
Distinguish with exactness, if you mean to know yourself and others, what is so often mistaken—the singular, the original, the extraordinary, the great, and the sublime man. The sublime alone unites the singular, original, extraordinary and great, with his own uniformity and simplicity: the great, with many powers, and uniformity of ends, is destitute of that superior calmness and inward harmony which soars above the atmosphere of praise: the extraordinary is distinguished by copiousness, and a wide range of energy: the original need not be very rich, only that which he produces is unique, and has the exclusive stamp of individuality: the singular, as such, is placed between originality and whim, and often makes a trifle the medium of fame.
591.
Forwardness nips affection in the bud.
592.
If you mean to be loved, give more than what is asked, but not more than what is wanted; and ask less than what is expected.
593.
Whom smiles and tears make equally lovely, all hearts may court.
594.
Take here the grand secret—if not of pleasing all, yet of displeasing none—court mediocrity, avoid originality, and sacrifice to fashion.
595.
He who pursues the glimmering steps of hope with stedfast, not presumptuous, eye, may pass the gloomy rock on either side of which superstition and incredulity spread their dark abysses.
596.
The public seldom forgive twice.
597.
Him who is hurried on by the furies of immature, impetuous wishes, stern repentance shall drag, bound and reluctant, back to the place from which he sallied: where [Page 106]you hear the crackling of wishes expect intolerable vapours or repining grief.
598.
He submits to be seen through a microscope, who suffers himself to be caught in a fit of passion.
599.
Venerate four characters; the sanguine, who has checked volatility and the rage for pleasure; the choleric, who has subdued passion and pride; the phlegmatic, emerged from indolence; and the melancholy, who has dismissed avarice, suspicion, and asperity.
600.
All great minds sympathize.
601.
Who, by kindness and smooth attention, can insinuate a hearty welcome to an unwelcome guest, is a hypocrite superior to a thousand plain dealers.
602.
Men carry their character not seldom in their pockets: you might decide on more than half of your acquaintance, had you will or right to turn their pockets inside out.
603.
Injustice arises either from precipitation or indolence, or from a mixture of both; the [Page 107]rapid and the slow are seldom just; the unjust wait either not at all, or wait too long.
604.
All folly, all vice, all incredulity, arise from neglect of remembering what once you knew.
605.
Not he who forces himself on opportunity, but he who watches its approach, and welcomes its arrival by immediate use, is wise.
606.
Love and hate are the genius of invention, the parents of virtue and of vice—forbear to decide on yourself till you have had opportunities of warm attachment or deep dislike.
607.
There is a certain magic in genuine honesty and benevolence, which tinctures and invests with fragrance whatever comes within its sphere; it embalms with odour the insipid, and sheds perfume on rankness: struck with the unexpected emanation, you are sometimes tempted to ask of some, from whence they come? but wait an hour—the charm is past, and insipidity or rankness reappear.
608.
Set him down as your inferior who listens to you in a tête-à-tête, and contradicts you when a third appears.
609.
Each heart is a world of nations, classes, and individuals; full of friendships, enmities, indifferences; full of being and decay, of life and death: the past, the present, and the future; the springs of health and engines of disease: here joy and grief, hope and fear, love and hate, fluctuate, and toss the fullen and the gay, the hero and the coward, the giant and the dwarf, deformity and beauty, on ever restless waves. You find all within yourself that you find without: the number and character of your friends within, bears an exact resemblance to your external ones; and your internal enemies are just as many, as inveterate, as irreconcilable, as those without: the world that surrounds you is the magic-glass of the world, and of its forms within you; the brighter you are yourself, so much brighter are your friends—so much more polluted your enemies. Be assured then, that to know yourself perfectly you have only to set down a true statement of those that ever loved or hated you.
610.
Him, who can resrain from diving into secrets of mere unimproving curiosity, you may choose for the depositary of your inmost thoughts.
611.
He surely is most in want of another's patience, who has none of his own.
612.
He who believes not in virtue must be vicious; all faith is only the reminiscence of the good that once arose, and the omen of the good that may arise, within us.
613.
Avoid connecting yourself with characters whose good and bad sides are unmixed, and have not fermented together; they resemble phials of vinegar and oil, or pallets set with colours; they are either excellent at home and intolerable abroad, or insufferable within doors and excellent in public: they are unfit for friendship, merely because their stamina, their ingredients of character, are too single, too much apart; let them be finely ground up with each other, and they will be incomparable.
614.
The fool separates his object from all surrounding ones; all abstraction is temporary folly.
615.
You, who assume protection and give yourself the airs of patronage, know that, [Page 110]unattended by humanity or delicacy, your obligations are but oppressions, and your services affronts.
616.
Let me repeat it—He only is great who has the habits of greatness; who, after performing what none in ten thousand could accomplish, passes on, like Samson, and "tells neither father nor mother of it."
617.
There are moral risks as decisive of greatness of mind as the risk of Colombo, or that of Alexander when he drank the cup whilst Philip read the letter;—in these there is less of boldness than of intuition: but seek not for them in the catalogue of inferior minds.
618.
There is no middle path for him who has once been caught in an infamous action: he either will be a villain or a saint; the discovery of his crime must rankle, must ferment, through life within him; dead to honour, and infuriate against society, he will either rush from plot to plot to indiscriminate perdition, or, if he yet retain some moral sense, contrition and self-abhorrence may kindle the latent spark into a blaze of exemplary sanctity.
619.
He is a poor local creature who judges of men and things merely from the prujudices of his nation and time: but he is a knave, who, in possession of general principles, deals wanton condemnation on the same narrow scale.
620.
A god, an animal, a plant, are not companions of man; nor is the faultless—then judge with lenity of all; the coolest, wisest, best, all without exception, have their points, their moments of enthusiasm, fanaticism, absence of mind, faint-heartedness, stupidity—if you allow not for these, your criticisms on man will be a mass of accusations or caricatures.
621.
Genius always gives its best at first, prudence at last.
622.
Contemptuous airs are pledges of a contemptible heart.
623.
You think to meet with some additions here to your stock of moral knowledge—and not in vain, I hope: but know, a great many rules cannot be given by him who means not [Page 112]to offend, and many of mine have perhaps offended already; believe me, for him who has an open ear and eye, every minute teems with observations of precious import, yet scarcely communicable to the most faithful friend; so incredibly weak, so vulnerable in certain points, is man: forbear to meddle with these at your first setting out, and make amusement the minister of reflection: sacrifice all egotism—sacrifice ten points to one if that one have the value of twenty; and, if you are happy enough to impress your disciple with respect for himself, with probability of success in his exertions of growing better, and, above all, with the idea of your disinterestedness—you may perhaps succeed in making one proselyte to virtue.
624.
A gift—its kind, its value and appearance; the silence or the pomp that attends it; the style in which it reaches you—may decide the dignity or vulgarity of the giver.
625.
Keep your heart from him who begins his acquaintance with you by indirect flattery of your favourite paradox or soible.
626.
Receive no satisfaction for premeditated impertinence—forget it, forgive it—but keep him inexorably at a distance who offered it.
627.
Actions, looks, words, steps, form the alphabet by which you may spell characters; some are mere letters, some contain entire words, lines, whole pages, which at once decypher the life of a man. One such genuine uninterrupted page may be your key to all the rest: but first be certain that he wrote it all alone, and without thinking of publisher or reader.
628.
Let the cold, who offers the nauseous mimickry of warm affection, meet with what he deserves—a repulse; but from that moment depend on his irreconcilable enmity.
629.
Roughness in friendship is at least as disgusting as an offensive breath from a beautiful mouth—the rough may perhaps be trusty, sincere, secret—but he is a fool if he expects delicacy from others, and a hypocrite if he pretends to it himself.
630.
The moral enthusiast, who, in the maze of his refinements, loses or despises the plain paths of honesty and duty, is on the brink of crimes.
631.
A whisper can dispel the slumbers of hatred and of love.
632.
The poor—who envies not the rich, who pities his companions of poverty, and can spare something for him that is still poorer—is, in the realms of humanity, a king of kings.
633.
If you mean to know yourself, interline such of these Aphorisms as affected you agreeably in reading, and set a mark to such as left a sense of uneasiness with you; and then shew your copy to whom you please.
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