[Page 1]
THE PRINCIPLES OF POLITENESS.
AS all young men, on their first outset in life, are in want
[...] some experienced and friendly hand to bring them for
[...]
[...] and teach them a knowledge of the world; I think I cannot do the rising generation a greater service, than by directing the young man's steps, and teaching him how to make his way among the crowd. I will suppose him already instructed in the principles of religion and the necessity of moral virtues: (for without these he must be most unhappy) of course shall, in a series of chapters, point out under distin
[...] heads, the qualifications necessary to make him well received
[...] world, without which he cannot expect to bear his part in life, agreeable to his own wishes, or the duty he owes to society; and a
[...]
[...] d
[...]sty is the basis of a proper reception, I shall begin with that.
MODESTY.
MODESTY is a polite accomplishment, and generally an attendant upon merit▪ It is engaging in the highest degree, and wins the hearts of all our acquaintance. On the contrary, none are more disgustful
[...] company than the impudent and presuming.
The man who is
[...] occasions, commending and speaking well of himself, we naturally dislike. On the other hand, he who studies to conceal
[...] deserts, who does justice to the merit of others, who talks
[...] little of himself, and that with modesty, makes a favourable impression on the persons he is conversing with, captivates their minds, and gains their esteem.
Modesty, however, widely differs from an awkward bashfulness, which is as much to be condemned as the other is to be applauded. To appear simple is as ill-bred as to be impudent. A young man ought to be able to come into a room and address the company without the least embarrassment. To be out of countenance when spoken to, and not to have an answer ready, is ridiculous to the last degree.
[Page 2] An awkward country fellow, when he comes into company better than himself, is exceedingly disconcerted. He knows not what to do with his hands or his hat, but either puts one of them in his pocket, and dangles the other by his side; or perhaps twirls his hat on his fingers, or fumbles with the button. If spoken to, he is in a much worse situation; he answers with the utmost difficulty, and nearly stammers; whereas, a gentleman who is acquainted with life, enters a room with gracefulness, and a modest assurance, addresses persons whom he does not know, in an easy and natural manner, and without the least embarrassment. This is the characteristic of good breeding, a very necessary knowledge in our intercourse with men; for one of inferior parts, with the behaviour of a gentleman, is frequently better received than a man of sense, with the address and manners of a clown.
Ignorance and vice are the only things we need be ashamed of; steer clear of these, and you may go into any company you will; not that I would have a young man throw off all dread of appearing abroad, as a fear of offending or being disesteemed, will make him preserve a proper decorum. Some persons, from experiencing the inconveniencies of false modesty, have run into the other extreme,
[...] acquired the name of impudent. This is as great a fault as the other. A well-bred man keeps himself between the two, and steers the middle way. He is easy and firm in every company, is modest, but not bashful, steady, but not impudent. He copies the manners of the better sort of people, and conforms to their customs with ease and attention.
Till we can present ourselves in all companies with coolness and unconcern, we can never present ourselves well; nor will a man ever be supposed to have kept good company▪ or ever be acceptable in such company, if he cannot appear there easy and unembarrassed. A modest assurance, in every part of life, is the most advantageous qualification we can possibly acquire.
Instead of becoming insolent, a man of sense, under a consciousness of merit, is more modest. He behaves himself indeed with firmness, but without the least presumption. The man who is ignorant of his own merit, is no less a fool, than he who is constantly displaying it. A man of understanding avails himself of his abilities, but never boasts of them; whereas the timid and bashful can never push himself in life, be his merit as great as it will; he will be always kept behind by the forward and the bustling. A man of abilities, and acquainted with life, will stand as firm in defence of his own rights, as the most impudent man alive; but then he does it with a seeming modesty. Thus, manner is every thing; what is impudence in one, is proper assurance only in another; for firmness is commendable, but an overbearing conduct is disgustful.
Forwardness being the very reverse of modesty, follow rather than lead the company: that is, join in discourse upon subjects, rather than start one of your own; if you have parts, you will have opportunities enough of showing them on every topic of conversation; and if you have none, it is better to expose yourself upon a subject of other people's than one of your own.
But, be particularly careful not to speak of yourself, if you can help it. An impudent fellow lugs in himself abruptly upon all occasions,
[Page 3] and is ever the hero of his own story. Others will colour their arrogance with, "It may seem strange, indeed, that I should talk in this manner of myself; it is what I by no means like, and should never do, if I had not been cruelly and unjustly accused; but when my character is attacked; it is a justice I owe to myself to defend it." This veil is too thin not to be seen through on the first inspection.
Others again, with more art, will
modestly boast of all the principal virtues, by calling these virtues, weaknesses, and saying, they are so unfortunate as to fall into weaknesses. "I cannot see persons suffer," says one of this cast, "without relieving them; though my circumstances are very unable to afford it." "I cannot avoid speaking truth, though it is often very imprudent," and so on.
This angling for praise is so prevailing a principle, that it frequently stoops to the lowest objects. Men will often boast of doing that, which, if true, would be rather a disgrace to them than otherwise. One man affirms, that he rode twenty miles within the hour; 'tis probably a lie, but suppose he did, what then? He had a good horse under him, and is a good jocky. Another swears he has often, at a sitting, drank five or six bottles to his own share. Out of respect to him, I will believe him a liar, for I would not wish to think him a beast.
These and many more are the follies of
[...]
[...] people, which, while they think they procure them esteem, in reality make them despised.
To avoid this contempt, therefore, never speak of yourself at all, unless necessity obliges you; and even then take care to do it in such a manner, that it may not be construed into fishing for applause. Whatever perfections you may have, be assured, people will find them out; but whether they do or not, nobody will take them upon your own word. The less you say of yourself, the more the world will give you credit for; and the more you say, the less they will believe you.
LYING.
OF all the vices, there is none more criminal, more mean, and more ridiculous, than lying. The end we design by it, is very seldom accomplished, for lies are always found out, at one time or other; and yet there are persons who give way to this vice, who are otherwise of good principles, and have not been ill educated.
Lies generally proceed from vanity, cowardice, and a revengeful disposition, and sometimes from a mistaken notion of self-defence.
He who tells a malicious lie, with a view of injuring the person he speaks of, may gratify his wish for a while, but will in the end, find it recoil upon himself; for as soon as he is detected, (and detected he most certainly will be) he is despised for the infamous attempt, and whatever he may say hereafter of that person, will be considered as false, whether it be so or not.
If a man lies, shuffles or equivocates, for, in fact, they are all
[Page 4] alike, by way of excuse for any thing he has said or done, he aggravates the offence, rather than lessens it; for the person to whom the lie is told, has a right to know the truth, or there should have been no occasion to have framed a falsehood. This person, of course will think himself ill-treated for being a second time affronted; for what can be a greater affront than an attempt to impose upon any man's understanding? Besides, lying in excuse for a fault, betrays fear, than which nothing is more dastardly, and unbecoming the character of a gentleman.
There is nothing more manly, or more noble, if we have done wrong, than frankly to own it. It is the only way of meeting forgiveness. Indeed, confessing a fault, and asking pardon, with great minds, is considered as a sufficient attonement. "I have been betrayed into an error," or, "I have injured you, sir, and am heartily ashamed of it, and sorry for it," has frequently disarmed the person injured, and, where he would have been our enemy, has made him our friend.
There are persons also, whose
vanity leads them to tell a thousand lies. They persuade themselves, that, if it be no way injurious to others, it is harmless and innocent, and they shelter their falsehoods under the softer name of
untruths. These persons are foolish enough to imagine, that if they can recite any thing wonderful, they draw the attention of the company, and if they themselves are the objects of that wonder, they are looked up to as persons extraordinary. This has made many a man see things that never were in being, hear things that never were said, and atchieve feats that never were attempted, and dealing always in the marvellous. Such may be assured, however unwilling the persons they are conversing with, may be to laugh in their faces, that they hold them secretly in the highest contempt; for he who will tell a lie thus idly, will
[...] scruple to tell a greater where his interest is concerned. Rather than any person should doubt of my veracity for one minute, I would deprive myself of telling abroad either what I had really seen or heard, if such things did not carry with them the face of probability.
Others again will boast of the great respect they met with in certain companies; of the honours that are continually heaped on them there; of the great price they give for every thing they purchase, and this is to be thought of consequence; but unless such people have the best and most accurate memory, they will, perhaps, very soon after, contradict their former assertions, and subject themselves to contempt and derision.
Remember then, as long as you live, that nothing but strict truth can carry you through life with honour and credit. Liars are not only disagreeable, but dangerous companions, and, when known, will ever be shunned by men of understanding. Besides, as the greatest liars are generally the greatest fools, a man who addicts himself to this detestable vice, will not only be looked upon as vulgar, but will never be considered as a man of sense.
GOOD-BREEDING.
VOID of good-breeding, every other qualification will be imperfect, unadorned, and to a certain degree unavailing.
[Page 5] Good breeding being the result of good sense and good nature, is it not wonderful that people possessed of the one, should be deficient in the other? The modes of it varying according to persons, places and circumstances, cannot, indeed, be acquired otherwise than by time and observation, but the substance is every where and always the same.
What good morals are to society in general, good manners are to particular ones; their band and security. Of all actions, next to that of performing a good one, the consciousness of rendering a civility, is the most grateful.
We seldom see a person, let him be ever so ill-bred, wanting
[...] respect to those whom he acknowledges to be his superiors; the manner of showing this respect, then, is all I contend for. The well-bred man expresses it naturally and easily, while he who is unused to good company expresses it awkwardly. Study, then, to show that respect which every one wishes to show, in an easy and graceful way▪ but this must be learned by observation.
In company with our equals, or in mixed companies▪ a greater latitude may be taken in your behaviour; yet it should never exceed the bounds of decency; for though no one in this case, can claim any distinguished marks of respect, every one is entitled to civility and good manners. A man need not, for example, fear to put his hands in his pockets, take snuff, fit, stand, or occasionally walk about the room; but it would be highly unbecoming to whistle, wear his hat, loosen his garters, or throw himself across the chairs. Such liberties are offensive to our equals, and insulting to our inferiors. Easiness of carriage, by no means implies inattention and carelessness. No one is at liberty to act in all respects as he pleases;
[...]ut is bound by the laws of good manners, to behave with decorum.
Let a man talk to you ever so stupidly or frivolously, not to pay some attention to what he says, is savageness to the greatest degree. Nay, if he even forces his conversation on you, it is worse than rudeness not to listen to him; for your inattention in this case, tells him in express terms, that you think him a blockhead, and not worth the hearing. Now, if such behaviour is rude to men, it is much more so to women, who be their rank what it will, have
[...] account of their sex, a claim to officious attention from the men. Their little wants and whims, their likes and dislikes, and even their impertinencies, are particularly attended to and flattered, and their very thoughts and wishes guessed at and instantly gratified by every well-bred man.
In promiscuous companies you should vary your address agreeable to the different ages of the persons you speak to. It would be rude and absurd to talk of your amours or your pleasures, to men of certain dignity and gravity, to clergymen, or men in years; but still you should be as easy with them as with others; your manner only should be varied; you should if possible double your e
[...] pect and attention to them; and were you to insinuate occasionally, that from their observation and experience you wish to profit, you would insensibly win their esteem: for flattery, if not fuls
[...]me and gross, is agreeable to all.
When invited to dinner or supper, you must never usurp the best
[Page 6] places, the best dishes, &c. but always decline them, and offer them to others, except, indeed, you are offered any thing by a superior, when it would be a rudeness, if you liked it, not to accept it immediately, without the least apology. Thus for example, was a superior, the master of the table, to offer you a thing of which there was but one, to pass it to the person next you, would be directly charging him that offered it to you, with a want of good manners and proper respect to his company; or, if you were the only stranger present, it would be a rudeness if you would make a feint of refusing it, without the customary apology, "I cannot think of taking it from you, sir;" or, "I am sorry to deprive you of it;" as it is supposed he is conscious of his own rank, and if he chose not to give it, would not have offered it; your apology, therefore, in this case, is putting him upon an equality with yourself. In like manner, it is rudeness to draw back when requested by a superior to pass a door first, or to step into a carriage before him. In short, it would be endless to particularise all the instances in which a well-bred man shows his politeness in good company, such as not yawning, singing, whistling, warming his breech at the fire, lounging, putting his legs upon the chairs, and the like; familiarities, every man's good sense must condemn, and good breeding abhor.
But good breeding consists in more than merely not being ill-bred. To return a bow, speak when you are spoken to, and saying nothing rude, are such negative acts of good breeding, that they are little more than not being a brute. Would it not be a very poor recommendation of any man's cleanliness, to say, that, he was not offensive? If we wish for the good will and esteem of our acquaintance, our good breeding must be active, cheerful, officious and seducing.
For example, should you invite any one to dine or sup with you, recollect whether ever you had observed them to prefer one thing to another, and endeavour to procure that thing; when at table, say, "At such a time, I think, you secured to give this dish a preference, I therefore ordered it." "This is the wine I observed you best like, I have therefore been at some pains to procure it." Trifling as these things may appear, they prove an attention to the person they are said to; and as attention in trifles is the test of respect, the compliment will not be lost.
I need only refer you to your own breast. How have these little attentions when shown you by others, flattered that self-love which no man is free from? They incline and attach us to that person, and prejudice us afterwards to all that he says or does. The declaration of the women in a great degree, stamps a man's reputation of being either ill or well bred; you must then, in a manner overwhelm them with these attentions; they are used to them, and naturally expect them; and to do them justice, they are seldom lost upon them. You must be sedulous to wait upon them, pick up with alacrity any thing they drop, and be very officious in procuring their carriages or chairs in public places; he blind to what you should not see, and deaf to what you should not hear. Opportunities of showing these attentions are continually
[Page 7] presenting themselves; but in case they should not, you must study to create them.
If ever you would be esteemed by the women, your conversation to them should be always respectful, lively, and addressed to their vanity. Every thing you say or do, should tend to show a regard to their beauty or good sense: even men are not without their vanities of one kind or other, and flattering that vanity by words and looks of approbation, is one of the principal characters of good breeding.
Address and manners, with weak persons, who are actually three-fourths of the world, are every thing; and even people of the best understanding are taken in with them. Where the heart is not won, and the eye pleased, the mind will be seldom on our side.
In short, learning and erudition, without good breeding, is tiresome and pedantic; and an ill-bred man is as unfit for good company as he will be unwelcome in it. Nay, he is full as unfit for business as for company. Make then, good breeding the great object of your thoughts and actions. Be particularly observant of, and endeavour to imitate, the behaviour and manners of such as are distinguished by their politeness; and be persuaded, that good breeding is to all worldly qualifications, what charity is to all christian virtues; it adorns merit, and often covers the want of it.
GENTEEL CARRIAGE.
NEXT to good breeding, is a genteel manner and carriage, wholly free from those ill habits, and awkward actions which many very worthy persons are addicted to.
A genteel manner of behaviour, how trifling soever it may seem, is of the utmost consequence in private life. Men of very inferior parts have been esteemed, merely for their genteel carriage and good-breeding, while sensible men have given disgust for want of it. There is something or other that prepossesses us at first sight in favour of a well-bred man, and makes us wish to like him.
When an awkward fellow first comes into a room, he attempts to bow, and his sword if he wears one, goes between his legs, and nearly throws him down. Confused and ashamed, he stumbles to the upper end of the room, and seats himself in the very chair he should not. He there begins playing with his hat, which he presently drops; and recovering his hat, he lets fall his cane; and in picking up his cane, down goes his hat again; thus, 'tis a considerable time before he is adjusted. When his tea or coffee:
[...] handed to him, he spreads his handkerchief upon his knees,
[...] his mouth, drops either the cup or the saucer, and f
[...]ills the tea or coffee in his lap.
At dinner he is more uncommonly awkward; there he tucks his napkin through a button-hole, which tickles his chin, and occasions
[Page 8] him to make a variety of wry faces; he seats himself upon the edge of the chair, at so great a distance from the table, that he frequently drops his meat between his plate and his mouth; he holds his knife, fork and spoon differently from other people; eats with his knife, to the manifest danger of his mouth; picks his teeth with his fork, rakes his mouth with his finger, and puts his spoon, which has been in his throat a dozen times, into the
[...] again. If he is to carve, he cannot hit the joint, but in
[...] to cut through the bone, splashes the sauce over every body's cloaths. He generally daubs himself all over, his elbows are in the next person's plate, and he is up to the nuckles in soup and grease. If he drinks, it is with his mouth full, interrupting the whole company with, "To your good health, sir," and, "My service to you:" perhaps coughs in his glass, and besprinkles the whole table. Further, he has perhaps a number of disagreeable tricks, he snuffs up his nose, picks it with his finger, blows it, and looks into his handkerchief, crams his hand into his bosom, and next into his breeches. In short, he neither dresses nor acts like any other person, but is particularly awkward in every thing he does. All this, I own,
[...] nothing in it criminal; but it is such an offence to good manners and good breeding, that it is universally despised; it
[...] a man ridiculous in every company, and of course ought carefully to be avoided by every one who would wish to please.
From this picture of the ill-bred man, you will easily discover that of the well-bred; for you may readily judge what you ought to do, when you are told what you ought not to do; a little attention
[...] manners of those who have seen the world, will make a proper behaviour habitual and familiar to you.
Actions, that would otherwise be pleasing, frequently become ridiculous by your manner of doing them. If a lady drops her
[...] in company, the worst bred-man will immediately pick it up and give it to her; the best-bred-man can do no more; but then he does it in a graceful manner, that is sure to please, whereas the other would do it so awkwardly as to be laughed at.
You may also know a well-bred person by his manner of sitting
[...]
Ashamed and confused the awkward man sits in his chair, stiff and bolt upright, whereas the man of fashion is easy in every position; instead of lolling or lounging as he sits, he leans with elegance, and by varying his attitudes, shows that he has been used to good company.
[...] be one part of your study then, to learn to sit genteelly in different companies, to loll gracefully where you are authorised to take that liberty, and to sit up respectfully, where that freedom is not allowable.
In short, you cannot conceive how advantageous a graceful carriage and pleasing address are; upon all occasions they ensnare the affecti
[...]
[...] a prepossession in our favour, and play about the heart
[...] it.
[...] acquire a graceful air, you must attend to your dancing;
[...] either sit, stand or walk well, unless
[...] dances well. And
[...] to dance, be particularly attentive to the motions
[...] arms, for a stiffness in the wrist will make any man look awkward
[Page 9] if a man walks well, presents himself well in company, wears his
[...]at well, moves his head properly, and his arms gracefully, it is almost all that is necessary.
There is also an awkwardness in speech, that naturally falls under his head, and ought to, and may be guarded against; such as forgeting names, and mistaking one name for mother; to speak of Mr. What-dy'e-call-him, or You know-who, Mrs. Thingum, What's-her-name, or How-dy'e-call-her, is exceeding awkward and vulgar. 'Tis the same to address people by improper titles, as
sir, for
my lord; to begin a story without being able to finish it, and break off in the middle, with, "I have forgot the rest."
Our voice and manner of speaking too, should likewise be attended to. Some will mumble over their words, so as not to be intelligible, and others will speak so fast as not to be understood; and, in doing this, will sputter and spit in your face; some will bawl as if they were speaking to the deaf; others will speak so low as scarcely to be heard; and many will put their faces so close to yours, as to offend you with their breath. All these habits are horrid and disgustful, but may easily be got the better of with care. They are the vulgar characteristics of a low-bred man, or are proofs that very little pains have been bestowed in his education. In short, an attention to these little matters are of greater importance than you are aware of; many a sensible man having lost ground for want of those little graces, and many a one possessed of these perfections alone, has made his way through life, that otherwise would not have been noticed.
CLEANLINESS OF PERSON.
BUT, as no one can please in company, however graceful his air, unless he be clean and neat in his person, this qualification comes next to be considered.
Negligence of one's person not only implies an insufferable indolence, but an indifference whether we please or not. In others it betrays an insolence and affectation, arising from a presumption that they are sure of pleasing, without having recourse to those means which many are obliged to use.
He who is not thoroughly clean in his person, will be offensive to all he converses with. A particular regard to the cleanliness of your mouth, teeth, hands and nails, is but common decency. A soul mouth, and unclean hands, are certain marks of vulgarity; the first is the cause of an offensive breath, which nobody can bear, and the last is declarative of dirty work; one may always know a gentleman by the state of his hands and nails. The flesh at the roots should be kept back, so as to show the semi-circles at the bottom of the nails; the edges of the nails should never he cut down below the ends of the fingers, nor should they be suffered to grow longer than the fingers. When the nails are cut down to the
[...], it is a shrewd sign that the man is a mechanic, to whom
[...] nails would be troublesome, or that he gets his bread by
[...] and if they are longer than his fingers ends, and encircled
[Page 10] with a black rim, it foretells he has been laboriously and meanly employed, and too fatigued to clean himself; a good apology for want of cleanliness in a mechanic, but the greatest disgrace that can attend a gentleman.
These things may appear too insignificant to be mentioned; but when it is considered that a thousand little nameless things, which every one feels, but no one can describe, conspire to form that
whole of pleasing, I hope you will not call them trifling. Besides a clean shirt, and a clean person, are as necessary to health, as not to offend other people. It is a maxim with me, which I have lived to see verified, that he who is negligent at twenty years of age, will be a sloven at forty, and intolerable at fifty.
DRESS.
NEATNESS of person, I observed, was as necessary as cleanliness; of course some attention must be paid to your dress.
Such is the absurdity of the times, that to pass well with the world, we must adopt some of its customs, be they ridiculous or not.
In the first place, to neglect one's dress, is to affront all the female part of our acquaintance. The women in particular pay an attention to their dress; to neglect therefore your's, will displease them, as it would be tacitly taxing them with vanity, and declaring that you thought them not worthy that respect which every body else does. And, as I have mentioned before, as it is the women who stamp a young man's credit in the fashionable world, if you do not make yourself agreeable to the women, you will assuredly lose ground among the men.
Dress, as trifling as it may appear to a man of understanding, prepossesses on the first appearance, which is frequently decisive. And indeed we may form some opinion of a man's sense and character from his dress. Any exceeding of the fashion, or any affectation in dress, whatever, argues a weakness in understanding, and nine times out of ten it will be found out so.
There are few young fellows but what display some character or other in this shape. Some would be thought fearless and brave; these wear a black cravat, a short coat and waistcoat, and an uncommon long sword, hanging to their knees, a large hat fiercely cocked, and are FLASH all over. Others affect to be country squires; these will go about in buckskin breeches, brown frock, and a great oaken cudgel in their hands, slouched hats, with their hair undressed, and tucked up under them to an enormous size, and imitate grooms, and country boobies so well externally, that there is not the least doubt of their resembling them as well internally. Others again, paint and powder themselves so much, and dress so finically, as leads us to suppose they are only girls in boys cloaths. Now a sensible man carefully avoids all this, or any other affectation. He dresses as fashionably and well as persons of
[Page 11] he best families, and the best sense; if he exceeds them, he
[...] a coxcomb; if he dresses worse; he is unpardonable.
Dress yourself fine, then, if possible, or plain, agreeable to
[...]he company you are in; that is, conform to the dress of others, and avoid the appearance, of being tumbled. Imitate those reasonable people of your own age, whose dress is neither remarked is too neglected, or too much studied. Take care to have your cloaths well made, in the fashion, and to fit you, or you will, after all, appear awkward. When once dressed, think no more of it; show no fear of discomposing your dress, but let all your
[...]motions be as easy and unembarrassed, as if you was at home in your dishabille.
ELEGANCE OF EXPRESSION.
HAVING mentioned elegance of person, I will proceed to elegance of expression.
It is not one or two qualifications
[...] complete the gentleman; it must be a union of many;
[...] graceful speaking is as essential as gracefulness of person. Every man cannot be an harmonious speaker; a roughness or coarseness of voice may prevent it; but if there are no natural imperfections, if a man does not stammer or lisp, or has not lost his teeth, he may speak gracefully, nor will all these defects, if he has a mind to it, prevent him from speaking correctly.
Nobody can attend with pleasure to a bad speaker. One who tells his story ill, be it ever so important, will tire even the most patient. If you have been present at the performance of a good tragedy, you have doubtless been sensible of
[...] effects of a speech well delivered; how much it has
[...] and affected you; and on the contrary, how much
[...] ill-spoken one has disgusted you. 'Tis the same in common conversation; he who speaks deliberately, distinctly and correctly; he who makes use of the best words to express himself, and varies his voice according to the nature of the subject, will always please; while the thick or hasty speaker, he who mumbles out a set of ill-chosen words, utters them ungrammatically, or with a dull monotony, will tire and disgust. Be assured, then, the air, the gesture, the looks of a speaker, a proper accent, a just emphasis, and tuneful cadence, are full as necessary to please and
[...] attended to, as the subject matter itself.
People may talk what they will of solid reasoning and sound sense; without the graces and ornaments of language, they will neither please or persuade. In common discourse, even trifles elegantly expressed, will be better received than the best of arguments, homespun and unadorned.
A good way to acquire a graceful utterance is, to read aloud to some friend every day, and beg of him to set you right, in
[...]ase you read too fast, do not observe the proper stops, lay a wrong emphasis, or utter your words indistinctly. You may even read
[Page 12] aloud to yourself, where such a friend is not at hand, and you will find your own ear a good corrector. Take care to open your teeth when you read or speak, and articulate every word distinctly, which last cannot be done, but by sounding the final letter. But above all, endeavour to vary your voice, according to the matter, and avoid a monotony. By a daily attention to this, it will, in a little time, become easy and habitual to you.
Pay an attention also to your looks and your gesture, when talking even on the most trifling subjects; things appear very different, according as they are expressed, looked and delivered.
Now, if it is necessary to attend so particularly to our
manner of speaking, it is much more so, with respect to the
matter. Fine turns of expression, a genteel and correct style, are ornaments as requisite to common sense, as polite behaviour and an elegant address are to common good manners: they are great assistants in the point of pleasing. A gentleman, 'tis true, may be known in the meanest garb, but
[...] admits not of a doubt, that he would be better received into
[...] company, genteelly and fashionably dressed, than was he to appear in dirt and letters.
Be careful then of your style upon all occasions; whether you write or speak, study for the best words and best expressions, even in common conversation, or the most familiar letters. This will prevent your speaking in a hurry, than which nothing is more vulgar; though you may be a little embarrassed at first, time and use will render it easy. It is no such difficult thing to express ourselves well on subjects we are thoroughly acquainted with, if we think before we speak, and no one should presume to do otherwise.
[...] you have said a thing, consider deliberately with yourself,
[...] you could not have expressed yourself better: and if you are in doubt of the propriety or elegancy of any word, search for it in some dictionary
*, o
[...] some good author while you remember it; never be sparing of your trouble, while you wish to improve, and my word for it, a very little time will make this matter habitual.
In order to speak grammatically and to express yourself pleasingly, I would recommend it to you to translate often any language you are acquainted with into English, and to correct such translation, until the words, their order, and the periods, are agreeable to your own ear.
Vulgarism in language is another distinguished mark of bad company and education. Expressions may be correct in themselves, and yet be vulgar, owing to their not being fashionable; for language as manners are both established by the usage of people of fashion.
The conversation of a low bred man is filled up with proverbs and hackneyed sayings. Instead of observing that tastes are different
[Page 13] and that most men have one peculiar to themselves, he will give you "What is one man's meat, is another man's poison;"
[...] "Every one to their liking, as the old woman said when she kissed her cow." He has ever some favourite word, which he lugs in upon all occasions, right or wrong: such as
vastly angry,
vastly kind;
devilish ugly,
devilish handsome;
immensely great,
immensely little. Even his pronunciation carries the mark of vulgarity along with it; he calls the earth,
yearth; finances,
fin'ances; he goes
to wards and not towards such a place. He affects to use hard words to give him an appearance of a man of learning, but frequently mistakes their meaning, and seldom, if ever pronounces them properly.
All this must be avoided, if you would not be supposed to have kept company with footmen and housemaids. Never have recourse to proverbial or vulgar sayings; use neither favourite nor hard words; but seek for the most elegant; be careful in the management of them, and depend on it your labour will not be lost; for nothing is more engaging than
[...] fashionable and polite address.
ADDRESS, PHRASEOLOGY AND SMALL-TALK.
IN all good company, we meet with a certain manner, phraseology and general conversation, that distinguishes the man of fashion. This can only be acquired by frequenting good company and being particularly attentive to all that passes there.
When invited to dine or sup at the house of any well-bred man, observe how he does the honours of his table, and mark his manner of treating his company.
Attend to the compliments of congratulation or condolence that he pays; and take notice of his address to his superiors, his equals and his inferiors; nay his very looks and tone of voice are worth your attention, for we cannot please without an union of them all.
There is a certain distinguishing diction that marks the man of fashion, a certain language of conversation that every gentleman should be master of. Saying to a man just married, "I wish you joy," or to one who had lost his wife, "I am sorry for your loss," and both perhaps with an unbecoming countenance, may be civil, but it is nevertheless vulgar. A man of fashion will express the same thing more elegantly, and with a look of sincerity, that, shall attract the esteem of the person he speaks to. He will advance to the one with warmth and cheerfulness, and perhaps squeezing him by the hand, will say, "Believe me, my dear sir, I have scarce words to express the joy I feel, upon your happy alliance with such and such a family, &c." to the other in affliction he will advance flower, and with a peculiar composure of voice and countenance, begin his compliments of condolence with, "I hope sir, you will do me the justice to be persuaded, that I am not insensible of your unhappiness, that I take part in your distress, and shall ever be affected where
you are so."
[Page 14] Your first address to, and indeed all your conversation with, your superiors, should be open, cheerful and respectful; with your equals, warm and animated; with your inferiors, hearty, free and unreserved.
There is a fashionable kind of small-talk, which however trifling it may be thought, has its use in mixed companies: of course you should endeavour to acquire it. By small-talk I mean, a good deal to say on unimportant matters: for example, foods, the flavour and growth of wine, and the chit-chat of the day. Such conversation will serve to keep off serious subjects that might create disputes. This chit-chat is chiefly learned by frequenting the company of the ladies.
OBSERVATION.
AS the art of pleasing is to be learnt only by frequenting the best companies, we must endeavour to pick it up in such companies by observation; for it is not sense and knowledge alone that will acquire esteem; th
[...]se certainly are the first and necessary foundations for pleasing, but they will by no means do, unless attended with manners and attentions.
There have been people who have frequented the first companies all their life-time, and yet have never got rid of their natural stiffness and awkwardness; but have continued as vulgar as if they never were out of a servant's hall: this has been owing to carelessness, and a want of attention to the manners and behaviour of others.
There are a great many people likewise, who busy themselves the whole day,
[...] who in fact do nothing. They have possibly taken up a boo
[...]
[...] two or three hours, but from a certain in attention that grows upon them the more it is indulged, know no more of the contents, than if they had not looked into it: nay, it is impossible for any one to retain what he reads, unless he reflects and reasons upon it as he goes on. When they have thus lounged away an hour or two, they will saunter into company, without attending to any thing that passes there, but if they think at all, are thinking of some trifling matter, that ought not to occupy their attention; thence perhaps, they go to the play, where they stare at the company and lights, without attending to the piece, the very thing they went to see. In this manner they wear away their hours, that might otherwise be employed to their
[...]provement and advantage. This silly suspension of thought they would pass for
absence of mind—ridiculous!—Wherever you are, let me recommend it to you to pay an attention to all that passes; observe the characters of the persons you are with, and the subjects of their conversation; listen to every thing that is said, see every thing that is done, and (according to the vulgar saying) have your eyes and your ears about you.
A continual inattention to matters that occur, is the characteristic of a weak mind; the man who gives way to it, is little less than a trifler, a blank in society, which every sensible person overlooks;
[Page 15] surely what is worth doing, is worth doing well, and nothing can be well done, if not properly attended to. When I hear a man say, upon being asked about any thing that was said or done in his presence, "that truly he did not mind it." I am ready to knock the fool down,
Why did he not mind it?—What had he else to do?—A man of sense and fashion never makes use of this paltry plea, he never complains of a treacherous memory, but attends to and remembers every thing that is either said or done.
Whenever then you go into good company, that is the company of people of fashion, observe carefully their behaviour, their address, and their manner; imitate it as far as in your power. Your attention, if possible, should be so ready as to observe every person in the room at once, their motions, their looks and their turns of expression, and that without staring, or seeming to be an observer. This kind of observation may be acquired by care and practice, and will be found of the utmost advantage to you in the course of life.
ABSENCE OF MIND.
HAVING mentioned absence of mind, let me be more particular concerning it.
What the world calls an absent man is, generally either a very affected one, or a very weak one; but whether weak or affected, he is, in company, a very disagreeable man. Lost in thought, or possibly in no thought at all, he is a stranger to every one present, and to every thing that passes; he knows not his best friends, is deficient in every act of good manners, unobservant of the actions of the company, and insensible of his own. His
[...] are quite the reverse of what they ought to be; talk to him of one thing, and he replies as of another. He forgets what he said last, leaves his hat in one room, his cane in another, and his sword in a third; nay if it was not for his buckles, he would even leave his shoes behind him. Neither his arms
[...] his legs seem to be a part of his body, and his head is never in a right position. He joins not in the general conversation, except by fits and starts, as if awaking from a dream; I attribute this either to weakness or affectation. His shallow mind is possibly not able to attend to more than one thing at a time; or he would be supposed wrapt up in the investigation of some very important matter. Such men as Sir Isaac Newton or Mr. Locke, might occasionally, have some excuse for absence of mind; it might proceed from that intenseness of thought that was necessary at all times for the scientific subjects they were studying; but for a young man, and a man of the world, who has no such plea to make, absence of mind is a rudeness to the company, and deserves the severest censure.
However insignificant a company may be; however trifling their conversation; while you are with them, do not show them by an inattention, that you think them trifling; that can never be the way to please; but rather fall in with their weakness than otherwise; for, to mortify, or show the least contempt to those we are in company with, is the greatest rudeness we can be guilty of, and what few can forgive.
[Page 16] I never yet found a man inattentive to the person he feared, or the woman he loved; which convinces me, that absence of mind is to be got the better of, if we think proper to make the trial; and believe me it is always worth the attempt.
Absence of mind is a tacit declaration, that those we are in company with, are not worth attending to; and what can be a greater affront?—Besides, can an absent man improve by what is said or done in his presence?—No; he may frequent the best companies for years together, and all to no purpose. In short, a man is neither fit for business or conversation, unless he can attend to the object before him, be that object what it will.
KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD.
A KNOWLEDGE of the world by your own experience and observation is so necessary, that without it we shall act very absurdly, and frequently give offence, when we do not mean it. All the learning and parts in the world will not secure us from it. Without an acquaintance with life, a man may say very good things, but time them so ill, and address them so improperly, that he had much better be silent. Full of himself and his own business, and inattentive to the circumstances and situations of those he converses with, he vents them without the least discretion, says things that he ought not to say, confuses some, shocks others, and puts the whole company in pain, lest what he utters next should prove worse than the last. The best direction I can give you in this matter, is rather to fall in with the conversation of others, than start a subject of your own; rather strive to put them more in conceit with themselves, than draw their attention to you.
A novice in
[...] who knows little of mankind, but what he collects from books, lays it down as a maxim, that most men love flattery; in order therefore to please, he will flatter. But how? Without regard either to circumstances or occasion. Instead of those delicate touches, those soft tints, that serve to heighten the piece, he lays on his colours with a heavy hand, and daubs where he means to adorn; in other words, he will flatter so
[...], and at the same time so grossly, that while he wishes to please, he puts out of countenance, and is sure to offend. On the contrary, a man of the world, one who has made life his study, knows the power of flattery as well as he; but then he knows how to apply it, he watches the opportunity, and does it indirectly, by inference, comparison and hint.
Man is made up of such a variety of matter, that to search him thoroughly, requires time and attention; for though we are all made of the same materials, and have all the same passions, yet from a difference in their proportion and combination, we vary in our dispositions; what is agreeable to one is disagreeable to another, and what one shall approve another shall condemn. Reason is given us to controul these passions, but seldom does it. Application therefore to the reason of any man, will frequently prove ineffectual, unless we endeavour at the same time to gain his heart.
Wherever then you are, search into the characters of men; find out,
[Page 17] if possible, their foible, their governing passion, or their particular merit; take them on their weak side, and you will generally succeed; their prevailing vanity you may readily discover, by observing their favourite topic of conversation, for every one talks most of what he would be thought most to excel in.
The time should also be judiciously made choice of. Every man has his particular time, when he may be applied to with success, the
mollia tempora fandi; but these times are not all day long; they must be found out, watched, and taken advantage of. You could not hope for success in applying to a man about one business, when he was taken up with another, or when his mind was affected with excess of grief, anger, or the like.
You cannot judge of other mens minds better than by studying your own; for though some men have one foible, and another has another, yet men in general are very much alike. Whatever pleases or offends you, will in similar circumstances, please or offend others; if you find yourself hurt when another makes you feel his superiority, you will certainly, upon the common rule of right,
do as you would be done by, take care not to let another feel
your superiority, if you have it; especially if you wish to gain his interest or esteem. If disagreeable insinuations, open contradictions or oblique sneers vex and anger you, would you use them where you wished to please? Certainly not. Observe then, with care the operations of your own mind, and you may in a great measure read all mankind.
I will allow that one bred up in a cloyster or college may reason well on the structure of the human mind; he may investigate the nature of man, and give a tolerable account of his head, his heart, his passions, and his sentiments: but at the same time he may know nothing of him; he has not lived with him, and of course can know but little how those sentiments or those passions will work—He must be ignorant of the various▪
[...]rejudices, propensities and antipathies that always bias him, and frequently determine him. His knowledge is acquired only from theory, which differs widely from practice; and if he forms his judgment from that alone, he must be often deceived; whereas a man of the world, one who collects his knowledge from his own experience and observation, is seldom wrong; he is well acquainted with the operations of the human mind,
[...] into the heart of man; reads his words before they are uttered; sees his actions before they are performed; knows what will please, and what will displease, and foresees the event of most things.
Labour then to acquire this intuitive knowledge; attend carefully to the address, the arts and manners of those acquainted with life, and endeavour to imitate them. Observe the means they take to gain the favour and conciliate the affections of those they associate with; pursue those means, and you will soon gain the esteem of all that know you.
How often have we seen men governed by persons very much their inferiors in point of understanding, and even without their knowing it? A proof that some men have more worldly dexterity than others; they find out the weak and unguarded part, make their attack there, and the man surrenders.
Now from a knowledge of mankind, we shall learn the advantage of two things, the command of our temper and our countenances;
[Page 18] a trifling disagreeable incident shall perhaps anger one unacquainted with life, or confound him with shame; shall make him rave like a mad-man, or look like a fool; but a man of the world will never understand what he cannot or ought not to resent. If he should chance to make a ship himself, he will stifle his confusion, and turn it off with a jest, recovering it with coolness.
Many people have sense enough to keep their own secrets, but from being unused to a variety of company, have unfortunately such a tell-tale countenance, as involuntarily declares what they would wish to conceal. This is a great unhappiness, and should, as soon as possible be got the better of.
That coolness of mind, and evenness of countenance, which prevents a discovery of our sentiments
[...] our words, our actions, or our looks, is too necessary to pass unnoticed. A man who cannot hear displeasing things without visible marks of anger or uneasiness, or pleasing ones, without a sudden burst of joy, a cheerful eye, or an expanded face, is a
[...] the mercy of every knave, for either they will designedly please or provoke you themselves, to catch your unguarded looks; or they will seize the opportunity, thus to read your very heart, when any other shall do it. You may possibly tell me that this coolness must be natural, for if not, you can never acquire it. I will admit the force of constitution, but people are very apt to blame for many things they might readily avoid. Care with a little reflexion will soon give you this mastery of your temper and your countenance. If you find yourself subject to sudden starts of passion, determine with yourself not to utter a single word till your reason has recovered itself; and resolve to keep your countenance as unmoved as possible. As a man, who at a card table, can preserve a serenity in his looks under good or bad luck, has considerably the advantage of one who appears elated with success, or cast down with ill fortune, from our being able to read his cards in his face, so the man of the world, having to deal with one of these babbling countenances, will take care to profit by the circumstance, let the consequence, to him with whom he deals, be as injurious as it may.
In the course of life; we shall find it necessary very often to put on a pleasing countenance when we are exceedingly displeased; we must frequently seem friendly when we are quite otherwise. I am sensible it is difficult to accost a man with smiles whom we know to be our enemy: but what is to be done? On receiving an affront, if you cannot be justified in knocking the offender down, you must not notice the offence; for, in the eye of the world, taking an affront calmly is considered as cowardice,
If fools should attempt at any time to be witty upon you, the best way is not to know their witticisms are levelled at you, but to conceal any uneasiness it may give you: but should they be so plain that you cannot be thought ignorant of their meaning, I would recommend, rather than quarrel with the company, joining even in the laugh against yourself; allow the jest to be a good one, and take it in seeming good humour. Never attempt to retaliate the same way, as that would imply you were hurt. Should what is said wound your
[...] or your moral character, there is but one proper reply, which I hope you will never be obliged to have recourse to.
Remember there are but two alternatives for a gentleman; extreme
[Page 19] politeness, or the sword. If a man openly and designedly affronts you, call him out; but if it does not amount to an open insult, be outwardly civil; if this does not make him ashamed of his behaviour, it will prejudice every by-stander in your favour, and instead of being disgraced, you will come off with honour. Politeness to those you do not respect, is no more a breach of faith, than
your humble servant at the bottom of a challenge; they are universally understood to be things of course.
Wrangling and quarreling are characteristic of a weak mind; leave that to the women, be
you always above it. Enter into no sharp contest, and pride yourself, in showing, if possible, more civility to your antagonist than to any other in company; this will infallibly bring over all the laughers to your side, and the persons you are contending with, will be very likely to confess you have behaved very handsomely throughout the whole affair.
Experience will teach us, that though all men consist principally of the same materials, as I before took notice, yet for a difference in their proportion, no two men are uniformly the same: we differ from one another, and we often differ from ourselves, that is, we sometimes do things utterly inconsistent with the general tenor of our characters. The wisest man will occasionally do a weak thing; the most honest man a wrong thing; the proudest man a mean thing; and the worst of men will sometimes do a good thing. On this account, our study of mankind should not be general: we should take a frequent view of individuals, and though we may upon the whole form a judgment of the man from his prevailing passion or his general character, yet it will be prudent not to determine, till we have waited to see the operations of his subordinate appetites and humours.
For example: a man's general character may be that of strictly honest; I would not dispute it, because, I would not be thought envious or malevolent; but I would not rely upon this general character, so as to entrust him with my fortune or my life. Should this honest man, as is not uncommon, be my rival in power, interest, or love, he may possibly do things, that in other circumstances he would abhor: and power, interest and love, let me tell you, will often put honesty to the severest trial, and frequently overpower it. I would then ransack this honest man to the bottom, if I wished to trust him, and as I found him, would place my confidence accordingly.
One of the great compositions in our nature is vanity, to which all men more or less give way.
Women have an intolerable share of it. No flattery, no adulation is too gross for them; those who flatter them most please them best, and they are most in love with them: and the least slight or contempt of them is never forgotten. It is in some measure the same with men; they will sooner pardon an injury than an insult, and are more hurt by contempt than by ill usage. Though all men do not boast of superior talents, though they pretend not to the abilities of a Pope, a Newton, or a Bolingbroke, every one who pretends to have common sense, and to discharge his office in life with common decency; to arraign therefore, in any shape his abilities or integrity
[Page 20] in the department he holds, is an insult he will not readily forgive.
As I would not have you trust too implicitly to a man, because the world gives him a good character; so I must particularly caution you against those who speak well of themselves. In general suspect those who boast of, or affect to have any one virtue above all others, for they are commonly impostors. There are exceptions however to this rule, for we hear of prudes that have been chaste, bullies that have been brave, and saints that have been religious. Confide only where your own observation shall direct you; observe not only what is said, but how it is said, and if you have any penetration, you may find out the truth better by your eyes than your ears; in short, never take a character upon common report, but enquire into it yourself; for common report, though it is right in general, may be wrong in particulars.
Beware of those who on a short acquaintance, make you a tender of their friendship, and seem to place a confidence in you; 'tis ten to one but they deceive and betray you; however, do not rudely reject them upon such a supposition: you may be civil to them, though you do not entrust them. Silly men are apt to solicit your friendship and unbosom themselves upon the first acquaintance; such a friend cannot be worth hearing, their friendship being as slender as their understanding; and if they proffer their friendship with a design to make a property of you, they are dangerous acquaintance indeed. Not but the little friendships of the weak may be of some use to you, if you do not return the compliment; and it may not be amiss to seem to accept those of designing men, keeping them, as it were, in play, that they may not be openly your enemies; for their enmity is the next dangerous thing to their friendship. We may certainly hold their vices in abhorrence, without being marked out as their personal enemy. The general rule is to have a real reserve with almost every one, and a seeming reserve with almost no one: for it is very disgusting to seem reserved, and very dangerous not to be so. Few observe the true medium. Many are ridiculously mysterious upon trifles, and many indiscreetly communicative of all they know.
There is a kind of short-lived friendship that takes place among young men, from a connexion in their pleasures only; a friendship too often attended with bad consequences. This companion of your pleasures, young and unexperienced, will probably in the heat of convivial mirth, vow a perpetual friendship, and unfold himself to you without the least reserve: but new associations, change of fortune, or change of place, may soon break this ill-timed connexion and an improper use may be made of it. Be one if you will, in young companies, and bear your part like others in all the social festivity of youth; nay, trust them with your innocent frolics, but keep your serious matters to yourself; and if you must at any time make
them known, let it be to some tried friend of great experience; and that nothing may tempt him to become your rival, let that friend be in a different walk of life from yourself.
Were I to hear a man making strong protestations and swearing to the truth of the thing that is in itself probable, and very likely to
[Page 21] be, I should doubt his veracity; for when he takes such pains to make me believe it, it cannot be a good design.
There is a certain easiness or false modesty in most young people, that either makes them unwilling, or ashamed to refuse any thing that is asked of them. There is also an unguarded openness about them, that makes them the ready prey of the artful and designing. They are easily led away by the feigned friendships of a knave or a fool, and too rashly place a confidence in them, that terminates in their loss, and frequently in their ruin. Beware therefore, as I said before, of these proffered friendships; repay them with compliments, but not with confidence. Never let your vanity make you suppose, that people become your friends on a slight acquaintance; for good offices must be shown upon both sides to create a friendship: it will not thrive unless its love be mutual; and it requires time to ripen it.
There is still among young people another kind of friendship, merely nominal, warm indeed for the time, but fortunately of no long continuance. This friendship takes it rise from their pursuing the same course of riot and debauchery; their purses are open to each other, they tell one another all they know; they embark in the same quarrels, and stand by each other on all occasions. I should rather call this a confederacy against good morals and good manners, and think it deserves the severest lash of the law
[...] but, they have the impudence to call it friendship. However, it is often as suddenly dissolved as it is hastily contracted; some accident disperses them, and they presently forget each other, except it be to betray and to laugh at their own egregious folly.
In short, the sum of the whole is, to make a wide difference between companies and friends, for a very agreeable companion has often proved a very dangerous friend.
CHOICE OF COMPANY.
THE next thing to the choice of your friends is the choice of your company.
Endeavour as much as you can to keep good company, and the company of your superiors; for you will be held in estimation according to what company you keep. By superiors, I do not mean so much with regard to birth, as merit, and the light in which they are considered in the world.
There are two sorts of good company, the one consists of persons of birth, rank and fashion; the other, of those who are distinguished by some peculiar merit, in any liberal art or science; as men of letters, &c. and a mixture of these is what I would have understood by good company; for it is not what particular sets of people in general acknowledge to be so, and are the accredited good company of the place.
Now and then, persons without either birth, rank or character, will creep into good company, under the protection of some considerable personage; but, in general, none are admitted of mean degree, or infamous immoral character.
[Page 22] In this fashionable good company alone, can you learn the best manners and the best language: for, as there is no legal standard to form them by,
[...] here they are established.
It may possibly be questioned, whether a man has it always in his power to get into good company: undoubtedly, by deserving it he has; provided he is in circumstances which enable him to live and appear in the style of a gentleman. Knowledge, modesty and good breeding, will endear him to all that see him; for without politeness, the scholar is no better than a pedant, the philosopher than a cynic, the soldier than a brute, nor any man than a
[...]own.
Though the company of men of learning and genius is highly to be valued and occasionally coveted, I would by no means have you always found in such company. As they do not live in the world, they cannot have that easy manner of address which I would wish you to acquire. If you can bear a part in such company, it is certainly adviseable to be in it sometimes, and you will be the more esteemed in other company by being so: but let it not engross you, lest you should be considered as one of the
literati, which however respectable in name, is not the way to rise or shine in the fashionable world.
But the company which, of all others, you should carefully avoid, is that, which, in every sense of the word may be called
[...]ow; low in birth, low in rank, low in parts, and low in manners; that company, who, insignificant and contemptible in themselves, think is an honour to be seen with
you, and who will flatter your follies, nay your very vices to keep you with them
Though
you may think such a caution unnecessary,
I do not; for many a young gentleman of sense and rank, has been led by his vanity to keep such company, till he has been degraded, villified and undone.
The vanity I mean, is that of being the first of the company. This pride, though too common, is idle to the last degree. Nothing in the world lets a man down so much. For the sake of dictating, being applauded and admired by this low company, he is disgraced and disqualified for better. Depend upon it, in the estimation of mankind, you will sink or rise to the level of the company you keep.
Be it, then, your ambition to get into the best company; and, when there, imitate their virtues, but not their vices. You have no doubt, often heard of genteel and fashionable vices. These are whoreing, drinking and gaming. It has happened that some men, even with these vices, have been admired and esteemed. Understand this matter rightly, it is not their vices for which they are admired; but for some accomplishments they at the same time possess; for their parts, their learning or their good-breeding. Be assured, were they free from their vices, they would be much more esteemed. In these mixed characters, the bad part is over-looked for the sake of the good.
Should you be unfortunate enough to have any vices of your own, add not to their number by adopting the vices of others. Vices of adoption are of all others the most unpardonable, for they have not
[Page 23]
[...] inadvertency to plead. If people had no vices but their own,
[...] would have so many as they have.
Imitate, then, only the perfections you meet with; copy the po
[...]teness, the address, the easy manner of well-bred people; and remember, let them shine ever so bright, if they have any vices, they
[...]re so many blemishes, which it would be as ridiculous to imitate, as
[...] would to make an artificial wart upon one's face, because some very handsome man had the misfortune to have a natural one upon his.
LAUGHTER.
LET us now descend to minute matters, which though not so important as those we have mentioned, are far from inconsiderable. Of these, laughter is one.
Frequent and loud laughter is a sure sign of a weak mind, and no less characteristic of a low education. It is the manner in which low-bred men express their silly joy, at silly things, and they call it being merry.
I do not recommend upon all occasions a solemn countenance. A man may smile, but if he would be thought a gentleman and a man of sense, he would by no means laugh. True wit never made a man of fashion laugh; he is above it. It may create a smile, but a loud laughter shows, that a man has not the command of himself, every one who would wish to appear sensible must abhor it.
A man's going to sit down, on supposition that he has a chair behind him, and falling for want of one, occasions a general laugh, when the best pieces of wit would not do it; a sufficient proof, how low and unbecoming laughter is.
Besides, could the immediate laugher hear his own noise, or see the faces he makes, he would despise himself for his folly. Laughter being generally supposed to be the effect of gaiety, its absurdity is not properly attended to; but a little reflexion will easily restrain it; and when you are told, it is a mark of low breeding, I persuade myself you will endeavour to avoid it.
Some people have a silly trick of laughing whenever they speak; so that they are always on the grin, and their faces are ever distorted. This and a thousand other tricks, such as scratching their heads, twirling their hats, fumbling with their button, playing with their
[...], &c. &c. are acquired from a false modesty at their first outset in life. Being shame-faced in company, they try a variety of ways to keep themselves in countenance; thus, they fall into these awkward habits I have mentioned, which grow upon them, and in time become habitual.
Nothing is more repugnant likewise to good breeding than, horseplay of any
[...]ort, romping, throwing things at one another's heads, and so on. They may pass well enough with the mob, but they less
[...]n and degrade the gentleman.
[Page 24]
SUNDRY LITTLE ACCOMPLISHMENTS.
I HAVE had reasons to observe before, that various little matters, apparently trifling in themselves, conspire to form the
whole of pleasing, as in a well finished portrait, a variety of colours combine to complete the piece. It not being necessary to dwell much upon them, I shall content myself, with just mentioning them as they occur.
1. To do the honours of a table gracefully, is one of the outlines of a well-bred man; and to carve well, is an article, little as it may seem, that is useful twice every day, and the doing of which ill, is not only troublesome to one's self, but renders us disagreeable and ridiculous to others. We are always in pain for a man, who instead of cutting up a fowl genteelly, is hacking for half an hour across the the bone, greasing himself, and bespattering the company with the sauce. Use, with a little attention, is all that is requisite to acquit yourself in this particular.
2. To be well received, you must also pay some attention to your behaviour at table, where it is exceedingly rude to scratch any part of your body, to spit or blow your nose, if you can possibly avoid it, to eat greedily, to lean your elbows on the table, to pick your teeth before the dishes are removed, or to leave the table before grace is said.
3. Drinking of healths is now growing out of fashion, and is very unpolite in good company. Custom once had made it universal, but the improved manners of the age now renders it vulgar. What can be more rude, or ridiculous than to interrupt persons at their mea
[...] with an unnecessary compliment? Abstain then from this silly custom, where you find it out of use; and use it only at those tables where it continues general.
4. A polite manner of refusing to comply with the solicitations of a company, is also very necessary to be learnt; for, a young man, who seems to have no will of his own, but does every thing that is asked of him, may be a very good-natured fellow, but he is a very silly one. If you are invited to drink at any man's house, more than you think is wholesome, you may say, "you wish you could, but that so little makes you both drunk and sick, that you shall only be bad company by doing it: of course, beg to be excused." If desired to play at cards deeper than you would, refuse it ludicrously; tell them,
‘if you were sure to lose, you might possibly sit down; but that as fortune may be favourable, you dread the thought of having too much money, ever since you found what an incumbrance it was to poor Harlequin, and therefore you are resolved never to put yourself in the way of winning more than such or such a sum a-day.’ This light way of declining invitations to vice and folly, is more becoming a young man, than philosophical or sententious refusals, which would only be laughed at.
5. Now I am on the subject of cards, I must not omit mentioning the necessity of playing them well and genteelly, if you would be thought to have kept company. I would by no means recommend playing at cards as a part of your study, lest you would grow too fond of
[Page 25]
[...] and the consequence prove bad. It were better not to know a diamond from a club, than to become a gambler; but, as custom has introduced innocent card-playing at most friendly meetings, it marks
[...]he gentleman to handle them genteelly, and play them well, and as I hope you will play only for small sums, should you lose your money, pray lose it with temper; or if you win, receive your winnings without elation or greediness.
6. To write well and correct, and in a pleasing style, is another part of polite education. Every man who has the use of his eyes and right hand, can write whatever hand he pleases. Nothing is so illiberal as a school-boy's scrawl. I would not have you learn a stiff formal hand-writing like that of a school-master, but a genteel, legible, and liberal hand, and to be able to write quick. As to the correctness and elegance of your writing, attention to grammar does the one, and to the best authors the other. Epistolary correspondence should not be carried on in a studied or affected style, but the language should flow from the pen, as naturally and as easily as it would from the mouth. In short, a letter should be penned in the same style, as you would talk to your friend if he were present.
7. If writing well shows the gentleman, much more so does spelling well. It is so essentially necessary for a gentleman, or a man of letters, that one false spelling may fix a ridicule on him for the remainder of his life. Words in books are generally well spelled, according to the orthography of the age; reading therefore, with attention, will teach every one to spell right. It sometimes happens that words shall be spelled differently by different authors; but if you spell them upon the authority of one, in estimation of the public, you will escape ridicule. Where there is but one way of spelling a word, by your spelling it wrong, you will be sure to be laughed at. For a
woman of a tolerable education would laugh at and despise her lover, if he wrote to her, and the words were ill-spelled. Be particularly attentive then to your spelling.
8. There is nothing that a young man, at his first appearance in life, ought more to dread, than having any ridicule fixed on him. In the estimation even of the most rational men, it will lessen him, but ruin him with all the rest. Many a man has been undone by a ridiculous nick-name. The causes of nick-names among well-bred men, are generally the little defects in manner, air, or address. To have the appellation of ill-bred, awkward, muttering, left-legged, or any other, tacked always to your name, would injure you more than you are aware of; avoid then those little defects, (and they are easily avoided) and you need never fear a nick-name.
9. Some young men are apt to think that they cannot be complete gentlemen, without becoming men of pleasure: and the rake they often mistake for the man of pleasure. A rake is made up of the meanest and most disgraceful vices. They all combine to degrade his character, and ruin his health and fortune▪ A man of pleasure will
[...]efine upon the enjoyments of the age, attend them with decency and partake of them becomingly. Indeed he is too often less scrupulous than he should be, and frequently has the cause to repent it. A man of pleasure at best is but a dissipated being, and what the rational part of mankind must abhor; I mention it however, lest in taking up the man of pleasure, you should fall into the rake: for of
[Page 26] two evils, always choose the least. A dissolute flagitious footman may make as good a rake as a man of the first quality. Few men can be men of pleasure; every man may be a rake. There is a certain dignity that should be preserved in all our pleasures; in love a man may lose his heart without losing his nose; at table, a man may have a distinguishing palate without being a glutton; he may love wine without being a drunkard; he may game without being a gambler; and so on. Every virtue has its kindred vice, and every pleasure its neighbouring disgrace. Temperance and moderation, mark the gentleman; but excess the black-guard. Attend carefully then to the line that divides them; and remember to stop rather a yard short, than step an inch beyond it. Weigh the present enjoyment of your pleasures against the necessary consequences of them, and I will leave you to your own determination.
10. A gentleman has ever some regard also to the
choice of his amusements. If at cards, he will not be seen at cribbage, all-fours, or putt; or, in sports of exercise, at skittles, foot-ball, leap-frog, cricket, driving of coaches, &c. but will preserve a propriety in every part of his conduct; knowing that any imitations of the manners of the mob, will unavoidably stamp him with vulgarity. There is another amusement too, which I cannot help calling illiberal, that is, playing upon any musical instrument. Music is commonly reckoned one of the liberal arts, and undoubtedly is so; but to be piping or fiddling at a concert is degrading to a man of fashion. If you love music, hear it; pay fiddlers to play to you, but never fiddle yourself. It makes a gentleman appear frivolous and contemptible, leads him frequently into bad company, and wastes that time which might otherwise be well employed.
11. Secrecy is another characteristic of good breeding. Be careful never to tell in one company what you see or hear in another; much less to divert the present company at the expence of the last. Things apparently indifferent may, when often repeated and told abroad, have much more serious consequences than imagined. In conversation, there is generally a tacit reliance, that what is said will not be repeated; and a man, though not enjoined to secrecy, will be excluded company if found to be a tatler; besides, he will draw himself into a thousand scrapes, and every one will be afraid to speak before him.
12. Pulling out your watch in company unasked, either at home or abroad, is a mark of ill-breeding; if at home, it appears as if you were tired of your company, and wished them to be gone; if abroad, as if the hours dragged heavily, and you wished to be gone yourself. If you want to know the time, withdraw; besides, as the taking what is called a French leave was introduced, that on the person's leaving the company, the rest might not be disturbed; looking at your watch does what that piece of politeness was designed to prevent; it is a kind of dictating to all present, and telling them it is time, or almost time to break up.
13. Among other things let me caution you against ever being in a hurry: a man of sense may be in haste, but he is never in a hurry: convinced that hurry is the surest way to make him do what he undertakes ill. To be in a hurry is a proof that the business we embark
[Page 27] in is too great for us; of course, it is the mark of little minds, that are puzzled and perplexed, when they should be cool and deliberate; they wish do every thing at once, and are thus able to do nothing. Be steady then, in all your engagements; look round you, before you begin; and remember that you had better do half of them well, and leave the rest undone, than do the whole indifferently.
14. From a kind of false modesty, most young men are apt to consider familiarity as unbecoming. Forwardness, I allow is so; but there is a decent familiarity that is necessary in the course of life. More formal visits, upon formal invitations, are not the thing; they create no connexion, nor will they prove of service to you; it is the careless and easy ingress and egress, at all hours, that secures an acquaintance to our interest, and this is acquired by a respectful familiarity entered into, without forfeiting your consequence.
15. In acquiring new acquaintances, be careful not to neglect your old, for a flight of this kind is seldom forgiven. If you cannot be with your former acquaintance so often as you used to be when you had no others, take care not to give them cause to think you neglect them: call upon them frequently though you cannot stay long with them; tell them, you are sorry to leave them so soon, and nothing should take you away but certain engagements which good-manners oblige you to attend to; for it will be your interest to make all the friends you can, and as few enemies as possible; by friends I would not be understood to mean confidential ones: but persons who speak of you respectfully, and who, consistent with; their own interest, would wish to be of service to you, and would rather do you good than harm.
16. Another thing I must recommend to you, as characteristic of a polite education, and of having kept good company, is a graceful manner of confering favours. The most obliging things may be done so awkwardly as to offend, while the most disagreeable things may be done so agreeable as to please.
17. A few more articles of general advice, and I have done; the first is on the subject of vanity. It is the common failing of youth and such as ought to be carefully guarded against. The vanity I mean, is that which, if given way to, stamps a man a coxcomb, a character he will find a difficulty to get rid of, perhaps as long as he lives. Now this vanity shows itself in a variety of shapes; one man shall pride himself in taking the lead in all conversations, and peremptorily deciding upon every subject; another, desirous of appearing successful among the women, shall insinuate the encouragement he has met with, the conquests he makes, and perhaps boasts of favours he never received; if he speaks truth, he is ungenerous; if false, he is a villain, but whether true or false, defeats his own purposes, overthrows the reputation he wishes to erect, and draws upon himself contempt in the room of respect. Some men are vain enough to think they acquire consequence by alliance, or by an acquaintance with persons of distinguished character or abilities; hence they are continually telling of their grand-father lord such-a-one; their kinsman Sir William such-a-one; or their intimate friend Dr. such-a-one; with whom perhaps they are scarce acquainted. If they are ever found out (and that they are sure to be one time or other)
[Page 28] they become ridiculous and contemptible: but even admitting what they say to be true, what then? A man's intrinsic merit does not rise from an ennobled alliance, or a reputable acquaintance. A rich man never borrows. When angling for praise, modesty is the surest bait. If we would wish to shine in any particular character, we must never affect that character. An affectation of courage will make a man pass for a bully; an affectation of wit for a coxcomb; and an affectation of sense for a fool. Not that I would recommend bashfulness or timidity; no, I would have every one know his own value, yet not discover that he knows it, but leave his merit to be found out by others.
18. Another thing worth your attention is, if in company with an inferior, not to let him feel his inferiority; if he discovers it himself without your endeavour, the fault is not yours, and he will not blame you; but if you take pains to mortify him, or to make him feel himself inferior to you, in abilities, fortune, or rank, it is an insult that will not readily be forgiven. In point of abilities it would be unjust, as they are out of his power; in point of rank or fortune, it is ill-natured and ill-bred. This rule is never more necessary than at table, where there cannot be a greater insult than to help an inferior to a part he dislikes, or a part that may be worse than ordinary, and to take the best to yourself. If you at any time invite an inferior to your table, you put him during the time he is there, upon an equality with you, and it is an act of the highest rudeness to treat him in any respect slightingly. I would rather double my attention to such a person, and treat him with additional respect, lest he should even suppose himself neglected. There cannot be a greater savageness or cruelty, or any thing more degrading to a man of fashion, than to put upon or take unbecoming liberties with him, whose modesty, humility, or respect will not suffer him to retaliate. True politeness consists in making every body about you happy; and as to mortify, is to render unhappy, it can be nothing but the worst of breeding. Make it a rule rather to flatter a person's vanity than otherwise; make him, if possible, more in love with himself, and you will be certain to gain his esteem; never tell him any thing he may not like to hear, nor say things that will put him out of countenance, but let it be your study on all occasions to please; this will be making friends instead of enemies, and be a means of helping yourself in the end.
19. Never be witty at the expence of any one present, nor gratify that idle inclination, which is too strong in most young men, I mean laughing at, or ridiculing the weaknesses or infirmities of others, by way of diverting the company or displaying your own superiority. Most people have their weaknesses, their peculiar likings and aversions. Some cannot bear the sight of a cat; others the smell of cheese, and so on; was you to laugh at those men for their antipathies, or by design or inattention to bring them in their way, you could not insult them more. You may possibly thus gain the laugh on your side, for the present, but it will make the person, perhaps, at whose expence you are merry, your enemy for ever after; and even those who laugh with you, will, on a little reflexion, fear you and probably despise you; whereas, to procure what
one
[Page 29] likes, and remove what the
other hates, would show them that they were the objects of your attention, and possibly make them more your friends than much greater services would have done. If you have wit, use it to please, but not to hurt. You may shine, but take care not to scorch. In short, never seem to see the faults of others. Though among the mass of men, there are, doubtless, numbers of fools and knaves, yet were we to tell every one of these we meet with, that we know them to be so, we should be in perpetual war. I would detest the knave and pity the fool, wherever I found him; but I would let neither of them know unnecessarily that I did so; as I would not be industrious to make myself enemies. As one must please others, in order to be pleased one's self; consider what is agreeable to you, must be agreeable to them, and conduct yourself accordingly.
20. Whispering in company is another act of ill-breeding: it seems to insinuate, either that the persons whom we would not wish should hear, are unworthy of our confidence, or it may lead them to suppose we are speaking improperly of them: on both accounts therefore, abstain from it.
21. So pulling out one letter after another, and reading them in company, or cutting and paring one's nails, is unpolite and rude. It seems to say, we are weary of the conversation, and are in want of some amusement to pass away the time.
22. Humming a tune to ourselves, drumming with our fingers on the table, making a noise with our feet, and such like, are all breaches of good manners, and indications of our contempt for the persons present; therefore they should not be indulged.
23. Walking fast in the streets is a mark of vulgarity implying hurry of business: it may appear well in a mechanic of tradesman, but it suits ill with the character of a gentleman or a man of fashion.
24. Staring any person you meet, full in the face, is an act also of ill-breeding; it looks as if you saw something wonderful in his appearance, and is therefore a tacit reprehension
25. Eating quick, or very slow at meals is characteristic of the vulgar; the first infers poverty, that you have not had a good meal for some time; the last, if abroad, that you dislike your entertaiment; if at home, that your are rude enough to set before your friends what you cannot eat yourself. So again, eating your soup with your nose in the plate is vulgar; it has the appearance of being used to hard work, and of course an unsteady hand. If it be necessary then to avoid this, it is much more so that of
26. Smelling to the meat while on the fork, before you put it in your mouth. I have seen many ill-bred fellows do this, and have been so angry, that I could have kicked them from the table. If you dislike what you have upon your place, leave it; but on no account, by smelling to, or examining it, charge your friend with putting unwholesome provisions before you.
27. Spitting on the carpet is a nasty practice, and shocking,
[Page 30] in a man of liberal education. Was this to become general, it would be us necessary to change the carpets as the table-cloths; besides, it will lead our acquaintance to suppose, that we have not been used to genteel furniture; for this reason alone, if for no other, by all means avoid it.
28. Keep yourself likewise free from odd tricks or habits; such as thrusting out your tongue continually, snapping your fingers, rubbing your hands, sighing aloud, an affected shivering of your whole body, gaping with a noise like a country fellow that has been sleeping in a hay-loft, or indeed with any noise, and many others, which I have noticed before; these are imitations of the manners of the mob, and are degrading to a gentleman.
A very little attention will get the better of all these ill-bred habits, and be assured, you will find your own account in it.
EMPLOYMENT OF TIME.
EMPLOYMENT of time, is a subject, that from its importance, deserves your best attention. Most young gentlemen have a great deal of time before them, and one hour well employed in the early part of life, is more valuable and will be of greater use to you, than perhaps four and twenty some years to come.
Whatever time you can steal from company and from the study of the world; (I say company, for a knowledge of life is best learned in various companies) employ it in serious reading. Take up some valuable book, and continue the reading of that book, till you have got through it; never burden your mind with more than one thing at a time: and in reading this book, don't run over it superficially, but read every passage twice over, at least do not pass on to a second till you thoroughly understand the first, nor quit the book till you are master of the subject; for unless you do this, you may read it through and not remember the contents of it for a week. The books I would particularly recommend among others, are
Cardinal Retz's Maxims, Rochesoucauld's Moral Reflexions, Bruyer's Characters, Fontenelle's Plurality of Worlds, Sir Josiah Child on Trade, Bolingbroke's, for style, his
Remarks
[...] the History of England, under the name of Sir John
[...];
[...]ffendorff's Jus Gentiu
[...], and
Grotius de Jure Belli et Pacis: the last two are well translated by Barbeyrac. For occasional half hours or less, read the best works of invention, wit and humour, but never waste your minutes on trifling authors either ancient or modern.
Any business you may have to transact, should be done the first opportunity, and finished, if possible, without interruption; for by defering it, you may probably finish it too late or execute it indifferently. Now, business of any kind should never be done by halves; but every part of it should be well attended to: for he that does business ill, had better not do it at all. And, in
[Page 31] any point, which discretion bids you pursue, and which has a manifest utility to recommend it, let no difficulties deter you; rather let them animate your industry. If one method fails, try a second and a third. Be active, persevere, and you will certainly conquer.
Never indulge a lazy disposition; there are few things but are attended with some difficulties, and if you are frightened at those difficulties, you will not complete any thing. Indolent minds prefer ignorance to trouble; they look upon most things as impossible, because perhaps they are difficult. Even an hour's attention is too laborious for them, and they would rather content themselves with the first view of things, than take the trouble to look any further into them. Th
[...]s, when they come to talk upon subjects to those who have studied them, they betray an unpardonable ignorance; and lay themselves open to answers that confuse them. Be careful then; that you do not get the appellation of indolent; and if possible avoid the character of frivolous. For,
The frivolous mind is always busied upon nothing. It mistakes trifling objects for important ones; and spends that time upon little matters, that should only be employed upon greater ones.
Knick-nacks, butterflies, shells, and such-like, engross the attention of the frivolous man, and fill up all his time. He studies the dress, and not the characters of men, and his subjects of conversation are no other than the weather, his own domestic affairs, his servants, his method of managing his family; the little anecdotes of the neighbourhood, and the fiddle saddle stories of the day; void of information, void of improvement. These he relates with emphasis, as interesting matters; in short he is a male gossip. I appeal to your own feelings now, whether such things do not lessen a man, in the opinion of his acquaintance, and instead of attracting esteem, create a disgust.
DIGNITY OF MANNERS.
THERE is a certain dignity of manners, without which the very best characters would not be valued.
Ro
[...]ping, loud and frequent laughing, punning, joking, mimickry, waggery, and too great and indiscriminate familiarity, will render any man contemptible, in spite of all his knowledge or his merit. These may constitute a merry fellow▪ but a merry fellow was never yet respectable. Indiscriminate familiarity will either offend your superiors, or make you pass for their dependant or toad-eater, and it will put your inferiors, on a degree of equality with you, that may be troublesome.
A joke, if it carries a sting along with it, is no longer a joke, but an affront; and even if it has no sting, unless its witticism is delicate and
[...] instead of giving pleasure it will disgust; or if the company
should laugh, they will probably laugh at the jester rather than the jest.
[Page 32] Punning is mere playing upon words, and far from being a mark of sense: thus were we to say, such a dress is
commodious, one of these wags would answer
odious; or that whatever it has been, it is now be-
com-odious. Others will give us an answer different from what we should expect, without either wit or the least beauty of thought; as▪ "
Where's my lord?—" In his cloaths, unless he is in bed." "How does this wine taste?—"A little moist, I think." "How is this to be eaten?—
"With your mouth;" and so on, all which (you will readily apprehend) is low and vulgar. If your witticisms are not instantly approved by the laugh of the company, for heaven's sake, don't attempt to be witty for the future; for you may take it for granted, the defect is in yourself, and not in your hearers.
As to a mimic or wag, he is little else than a buffoon, who will distort his mouth and his eyes to make people laugh. Be assured, no person ever demeaned himself to please the rest, unless he wished to be thought the Merry-Andrew of the company, and whether this character is respectable, I leave you to judge.
If a man's company is coveted on any other account than his knowledge, his good sense, or his manners, he is seldom respected by those who invite him, but made use of only to entertain. "Let's have such-a-one, for he sings a good song, or he is always joking or laughing; or, "Let's send for such-a-one, for he is a good-bottle companion;" these are degrading distinctions, that preclude respect and esteem, whoever
is had (as the phrase is) for the sake of any qualification, singly, is merely that thing he
is had for, is never considered in any other light, and, of course, never properly respected, let his intrinsic merits be what they will.
You may possibly suppose this dignity of manners to border upon pride; but it differs as much from pride, as true courage from blustering.
To flatter a person right or wrong, is abject flattery; and to consent readily to do every thing proposed by a company, be it silly or criminal, is full as degrading as to dispute warmly upon every subject, and to contradict upon all actions. To preserve dignity, we should modestly assert our own sentiments, though we politely acquiesce in those of others.
So again, to support dignity of character, we should neither be frivolously curious about trifles, nor be laboriously intent upon little objects that deserve not a moment's attention; for this implies an incapacity in matters of greater importance.
A great deal likewise depends upon our air, address and expressions; an awkward address and vulgar expressions infer either a low turn of mind, or a low education.
Insolent contempt or low envy is incompatible also with dignity of manners. Low-bred persons fortunately lifted in the world, in fine cloaths and fine equipages, will insolently look down on all those who cannot afford to make as good an appearance, and they openly envy those who perhaps make a better. They also dread the being slighted; of course are suspicious and
[Page 33] captious; are uneasy to themselves, and make every body else so about them.
A certain degree of outward seriousness in looks and actions, gives dignity, while a constant smirk upon the face (that insipid silly smile, which fools have when they would be civil) and whiffling motions are strong marks of futility.
But above all; a dignity of character is to be acquired best by a certain firmness in all our actions. A mean, timid and passive complaisance lets a man down more than he is aware of: but still his firmness or resolution should not extend to brutality, but be accompanied with a peculiar and engaging softness or mildness.
If you discover any hastiness in your temper, and find it apt to break out into rough and unguarded expressions, watch it narrowly, and endeavour to curb it; but let no complaisance, no weak desire of pleasing, no wheedling, urge you to do that which discretion forbids; but persist and persevere in all that is right. In your connexions and friendships, you will find this rule of use to you. Invite and preserve attachments, by your firmness: but labour to keep clear of enemies by a mildness of behaviour. Disarm those enemies you may unfortunately have, (and few are without them) by a gentleness of manner, but make them feel the steadiness of your resentment; for there is a wide difference between bearing malice, and a determined self-defence; the one is imperious, but the other is prudent and justifiable.
In directing your servants, or any person you have a right to command; if you deliver your orders mildly, and in that engaging manner, which every gentleman should study to do, you will be cheerfully and consequently well obeyed: but if tyrannically, you would be very unwillingly served, if served at all. A cool steady determination should show that you
will be obeyed; but a gentleness, in the manner of enforcing that obedience, should make service a cheerful one. Thus will you be loved without being despised, and feared without being hated.
I hope I need not mention vices. A man who has been patiently kicked out of company, may have as good a pretence to courage, as one rendered infamous by his vices, may to dignity of any kind; however of such consequence are appearances, that an outward decency, and an affected dignity of manners, will even keep such a man the longer from sinking▪ If therefore you should unfortunately have no intrinsic merit of our own, keep up, if possible, the appearance of it; and the world will possibly give you credit for the rest. A versatility of manners is as necessary in social life, as a versatility of parts in political. This is no way blameable, if not used with an ill-design. We must like the cameleon, often put on the hue of the persons we wish to be well with: and it surely can never be blameable, to endeavour to gain the good-will or affection of any one, if when obtained we do not mean to abuse it.
RULES FOR CONVERSATION.
HAVING now given you full and sufficient instructions for making you well received in the best of companies: nothing
[Page 34] remains but that I lay before you some few rules for your conduct in such company. Many things on this subject I have mentioned before; but some few matters remain to be mentioned now.
1. Talk then frequently: but not long together, lest you tire the persons you are speaking to; for few persons talk so well upon a subject, as to keep up the attention of their hearers for any length of time.
2. Avoid telling stories in company, unless they are very short indeed, and very applicable to the subject you are upon; in this case relate them in as few words as possible, without the least digression, and with some apology; as that you hate the telling of stories, but the shortness of it induced you. And, if your story has any wit in it, be particularly careful not to laugh at it yourself. Nothing is more tiresome and disagreeable than a long tedious narrative; it betrays a gossiping disposition and great want of imagination; and nothing is more ridiculous than to express an approbation of your own story by a laugh.
3. In relating any thing, keep clear of repetitions, or very hackneyed expressions, such as,
says he, or
says she. Some people will use these so often, as to take off the hearer's attention from the story: as in an organ out of tune, one pipe shall perhaps found the whole time we are playing, and confuse the piece so as not to be understood.
4. Digressions likewise, should be guarded against. A story is always more agreeable without them. Of this kind are, "
the gentleman I am telling you of is the son of Sir Thomas—, who lives in Harley-street;—you must know him—his brother had a horse that won the sweepstakes at the last New-market meeting—Zounds! if you don't know him, you know nothing." Or, "
He was an upright tall old gentleman, who wore his own long hair: don't you recollect him?"—All this is unnecessary; is very tiresome and provoking, and would be an excuse for a man's behaviour, if he was to leave us in the midst of our narrative.
5. Some people have a trick of holding the person they are speaking to by the button, or the hand, in order to be heard out; conscious, I suppose, that their tale is tiresome. Pray never do this; if the person you speak to is not as willing to hear your story as you are to tell it, you had much better break off in the middle, for if you tire them once, they will be afraid to listen to you a second time.
6. Others have a way of punching the person they are talking to in the side, and, at the end of every sentence, asking him some such questions as the following: "Wasn't I right in that?"—"You know I told you so?"—"What's your opinion," and the like; or perhaps they will be threading him, or jogging him with their elbow. For mercy's sake, never give way to this: it will make your company dreaded.
7. Long talkers are frequently apt to single out some unfortunate man present
[...] generally the most silent one of the company, or probably one who sits next them. To this man, in a kind of halfwhisper, will they run on for half an hour together. Nothing
[Page 35] can be more ill-bred. But if one of these unmerciful talkers should attack you, if you wish to oblige him, I would recommend the hearing him with patience: seem to do so at least, for you could not hurt him more than to leave him in the middle of his story, or discover any impatience in the course of it.
8. Incessant talkers are very disagreeable companions. Nothing can be more rude than to engross the conversation to yourself, or to take the words, as it were, out of another man's mouth. Every man in company has an equal claim to bear his part in the conversation, and to deprive him of it, is not only unjust, but a tacit declaration, that he cannot speak so well upon the subject as yourself. You will therefore take it up. And what can be more rude? I would as soon forgive a man that should stop my mouth when I was gaping, as taking my words from me while I was speaking them. Now, if this be unpardonable, it cannot be less so,
9. To help out or forestall the slow speaker, as if you alone were rich in expressions, and he were poor. You may take it for granted, every one is vain enough to think he can talk well, tho' he may modestly deny it; helping a person out therefore in his expression, is a correction that will stamp the corrector with imprudence and ill-manners.
10. Those who contradict others upon all occasions and make every assertion a matter of dispute, betray by this behaviour an unacquaintance with good breeding. He therefore who wishes to appear amiable with those he converses with, will be cautious of such expressions as these, "That can't be true, Sir," "The affair is as I say;" "That must be false, Sir;" "If what you say is true, &c." You may as well tell a man he lies at once, as thus indirectly impeach his veracity. It is equally as rude to be proving every trifling assertion with a bet or a wager. "I'll bet you fifty of it, and so on." Make it then a constant rule in matters of no great importance, complaisantly to submit your opinion to that of other; for a victory of this kind often costs a man the loss of a friend.
11. Giving advice unasked is another piece of rudeness; it is, in effect, declaring ourselves wiser than those to whom we give it▪ reproaching them with ignorance and inexperience. It is a freedom that ought not to be taken with any common acquaintance, and yet there are those, who will be offended if their advice is not taken. "Such-a-one," say they, "is above being advised." "He scorns to listen to my advice;" as if it were not a mark of greater arrogance to expect every one to submit to their opinion, than for
[...] sometimes to follow his own.
12. There is nothing so unpardonably rude, as a seeming inattention to the person who is speaking to you; though you may meet with it in others, by all means avoid it yourself. Some ill-bred people, while others are speaking to them, will, instead of looking at, or attending to them, perhaps six their eyes on the cieling, or some picture in the room, look out at the window, play with a dog, their watch-chain, or their cane, or probably pick their nails or their noses. Nothing betrays a more trifling mind than this; nor can any thing be a greater affront to the person speaking; it being a tacit declaration,
[Page 36] that what he is saying is not worth your attention. Consider with yourself, how you would like such treatment, and, I am persuaded, you will never show it to others.
13. Surliness or moroseness is incompatible also with politeness. Such as should any one say "he was desired to present Mr. Such-a-one's respects to you," to reply, "What the devil have I do with his respects?"—"My Lord enquired after you lately, and asked how you did," to answer, "if he wishes to know, let him come and feel my pulse;" and the like. A good deal of this often is affected; but whether affected or natural, it is always offensive. A man of this stamp will occasionally be laughed at, as an oddity; but in the end will be despised.
14. I should suppose it unnecessary to advise you to adapt your conversation to the company your are in. You would not surely start the same subject, and discourse of it in the same manner, with the old and with the young, with an officer, a clergyman, a philosopher and a woman? No; your good sense will undoubtedly teach you to be serious with the serious, gay with the gay, and to trifle with the triflers.
15. There are certain expressions which are exceedingly rude, and yet there are people of liberal education that sometimes use them; as, "You don't understand me, Sir." "It is not so." "You mistake" "You know nothing of the matter, &c." Is it not better to say, "I believe I do not express myself so as to be understood." "Let us consider it again; whether we take it right or not." It is much more polite and amiable to make some excuse for another, and even in cases where he might justly be blamed, and to represent the mistake as common to both, rather than charge him with insensibility or incomprehension.
16. If any one should have promised you any thing, and not have fulfilled that promise, it would be very unpolite to tell him he has forfeited his word; or if the same person should have disappointed you upon any occasion, would it not be better to say, "You were probably so much engaged, that you forgot my affair," or, "perhaps it slipped your memory," rather than, "You thought no more about it▪" or, "You pay very little regard to your word." For, expressions of this kind leave a sting behind them. They are a kind of provocation and affront, and very often bring on lasting quarrels.
17. Be careful not to appear dark and mysterious, lest you should be thought suspicious, than which nothing can be a more unamiable character. If you appear mysterious and reserved, others will be truly so with you; and in this case, there is an end to improvement, for you will gather no information. Be reserved, but never seem so.
18. There is fault extremely common with some people, which I would have
[...]. When their opinion is asked upon any subject, they will give it with so apparent a diffidence and timidity, that one cannot, without the utmost pain, listen to them; especially if they are known to be men of universal knowledge. "Your Lordship will pardon me," says one of this stamp, "If I should not be able to speak to the case in hand, so well as it might be wished"—"I'll venture to speak of this matter, to the best of my poor abilities
[Page 37] and dulness of apprehension."—"I fear I shall expose myself, but in obedience to your lordship's commands"—and while they are making these apologies, they interrupt the business and tire the company.
19. Always look people in the face, when you speak to them, otherwise you will be thought conscious of some guilt; besides you lose the opportunity of reading their countenances, from which you will much better learn the impression your discourse makes upon them, than you can possibly do from their words; for words are at the will of every one, but the countenance is frequently involuntary.
20. If in speaking to a person, you are not heard, and should be desired to repeat what you said, do not raise your voice in the repetition, lest you should be thought angry on being obliged to repeat what you had said before; it was probably owing to the hearer's inattention.
21. One word only as to swearing. Those who addict themselves to it, and interlard their discourse with oaths, can never be considered as gentlemen; they are generally people of low education, and are unwelcome in what is called good company. It is a vice that has no temptation to plead, but is, in every respect, as vulgar as it is wicked.
22. Never accustom yourself to scandal, nor listen to it; for though it may gratify the malevolence of some people; nine times out of ten, it is attended with great disadvantages. The very persons you tell it to, will on reflexion, entertain a mean opinion of you, and it will often bring you into very disagreeable situations. And as there would be no evil speakers, if there were no evil hearers; it is in scandal as in robbery; the receiver is as bad as the thief. Besides, it will lead people to shun your company, supposing that you will speak ill of
them to the next acquaintance you meet.
23. Mimickry, the favourite amusement of little minds, has ever been the contempt of great ones. Never give way to it yourself, nor ever encourage it in others; it is the most illiberal of all buffoonery; it is an insult on the person you mimic; and insults, I have often told you, are seldom forgiven.
24. Carefully avoid talking either of your own or other people's domestic concerns. By doing the one, you will be thought vain; by entering into the other, you will be considered as officious. Talking of yourself is an impertinence to the company; your affairs are nothing to them; besides, they cannot be kept too secret. And as to the affairs of others, what are they to you? In talking of matters that no way concern you, you are liable to commit blunders, and should you touch any one in a sore part, you may possibly lose his esteem. Let your conversation then in mixed companies▪ always be general.
25. Jokes,
Bon-mots, or the little pleasantries of one company, will not often beat to be told in another; they are frequently local, and take their rise from certain circumstances; a second company may not be acquainted with these circumstances, and of course your story may be misunderstood, or want explaining; and if after you have prefaced it with "I will tell you a good thing," should the sling not be immediately perceived, you will appear exceedingly ridiculous, and wish you had not told it. Never then repeat in one company what you hear in another.
[Page 38] 26. In most debates, take up the favourable side of the question; however, let me caution you against being clamorous; that is, never maintain an argument with heat, though you know yourself right; but offer your sentiments, modestly and coolly, and if this does not prevail, give it up, and try to change the subject by saying something to this effect;
‘I find we shall hardly convince one another, neither is there any necessity to attempt it; so let us talk of something else.’
27. Not that I would have you give up your opinion always; no, assert your own sentiments, and oppose those of others when wrong, but let your manner and voice be gentle and engaging, and yet no ways affected. If you contradict, do it with
I may be wrong, but—I won't be positive, but I really think—I should rather suppose—If I may be permitted to say—and close your dispute with good humour, to show that you are neither displeased yourself, nor meant to displease the person you dispute with.
28. Acquaint yourself with the character and situations of the company you go into, before you give a loose to your tongue; for should you enlarge on some virtue, which any one present may notoriously want; or should you condemn some vice, which any of the company may be particularly addicted to, they will be apt to think your reflexions pointed and personal, and you will be sure to give offence. This consideration will naturally lead you, not to suppose things said in general, to be levelled at you.
29. Low-bred people, when they happen occasionally to be in good company, imagine themselves to be the subject of every separate conversation. If any part of the company whispers, it is about them; if they laugh, it is at them; and if any thing is said which they do not comprehend, they immediately suppose it is meant of them. This mistake is admirably ridiculed in one of our celebrated comedies. "
I am sure, says Scrub,
they were talking of me, for they laughed consumedly." Now a well-bred person never thinks himself disesteemed by the company, or laughed at, unless their reflexions are so gross, that he cannot be supposed to mistake them, and his honour obliges him to resent it in a proper manner; however, be assured, gentlemen never laugh at or ridicule one another, unless they are in joke, or on a footing of the greatest intimacy. If such a thing should happen once in an age, from some pert coxcomb, or some slippant woman, it is best not to seem to know it, than to make the least reply.
30. It is a piece of politeness not to interrupt a person in a story, whether you have heard it before or not. Nay, if a well-bred man is asked, whether he has heard it, he will answer no, and let the person go on, though he knows it already. Some are fond of telling a story, because they think they tell it well, others pride themselves in being the first teller of it, and others are pleased at being thought entrusted with it. Now, all these persons you would disappoint, by answering yes. And, as I have told you before, as the greatest proof of politeness is to make every body happy about you, I would never deprive a person of any secret satisfaction of this sort, when I could gratify him by
[...] attention.
31. Be not ashamed of asking questions, if such questions lead to information; always accompany them with some excuse, and you never will be reckoned impertinent. But, abrupt questions, without
[Page 39] some apology, by all means avoid, as they imply design. There is a way of fishing for facts, which, if done judiciously, will answer every purpose, such as taking things you wish to know for granted; this will perhaps lead some officious person to set you right. So again, by saying, you have heard so and so, and sometimes seeming to know more than you do, you will often get an information which you would lose by direct questions, as these would put people on their guard and frequently defeat the very end you aim at.
32. Make it a rule never to reflect on anybody of people, for by this means you will create a number of enemies. There are good and bad of all professions, lawyers, soldiers, parsons, or citizens. They are all men, subject to the same passions, differing only in their manner, according to the way they have been bred up in. For this reason, it is unjust as well as indiscreet, to attack them as a
corps collectively Many a young man has thought himself extremely clever in abusing the clergy. What are the clergy more than other men? Can you suppose a black gown can make any alteration in his nature? Fie, fie; think seriously, and I am convinced you will never do it.
33. But above all, let no example, no fashion, no witticism, no foolish desire of rising above what knaves call prejudices, tempt you to excuse, extenuate or ridicule the least breach of morality, but upon every occasion, show the greatest abhorrence of such proceedings, and hold virtue and religion in the highest veneration.
34. It is a great piece of ill-manners to interrupt any one while speaking, by speaking yourself, or calling off the attention of the company to any foreign matter. But this every child knows.
35. The last thing I shall mention is that of concealing your learning, except on particular occasions▪ Reserve this for learned men, and let them rather extort it from you, than you be too willing to display it. Hence you will be thought modest, and to have more knowledge than you really have. Never seem wise, or more learned than the company you are in. He who affects to show his learning, will be frequently questioned: and if found superficial, will be sneered at; if otherwise, he will be deemed a pedant. Real merit will always show itself, and nothing can lessen it in the opinion of the world, but a man's exhibiting it himself.
For God's sake, revolve all these things seriously in your mind, before you go abroad into life. Recollect the observations you have yourself occasionally made upon men and things, compare them with my instructions, and act wisely and consequentially as they shall teach you.
[Page 91]
BY THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.
‘
Our Virtues, most commonly, are but Vices disguised.’
1. WHAT we take for virtues, is commonly nothing else but the concurrence of several actions and several interests, which either fortune or our own industry contrive to dispose to advantage; and it is not always from a principle of valour, that men are valiant, or from a principle of chastity, that women are enaste.
2. Self-love is of all flatterers the greatest.
3. For all the discoveries that have been made into the land of self-love, there still remains a large
Terr
[...] Incognita.
4. Self-love is more subtle than the most subtle man in the world.
5. The duration of our passions no more depends on us, than the duration of our lives.
6. Passion often makes a man of sense mad; and often makes a fool sensible.
7. Those great and shining actions, whose lustre even dazzles us, we represented by the politicians as the effects of great designs: whereas, for the most part, they are indeed the effects of humour and passion: thus the war between
Augustus and
Antony, which is attributed to the ambition each had of making himself master of the world, was perhaps nothing but the effect of jealousy.
8. The passions are the only orators that are always sure to persuade: they are, as it were, nature's art of eloquence, the rules of which are infallible: and the plainest man with passion, persuades more than the most eloquent without it.
9. There is such an inherent injustice and self-interest in the passions, that it is dangerous to follow them, and they are most to be distrusted, even when they appear to be most reasonable.
10. There is in the heart of man a perpetual succession of passions, insomuch, that the ruin of one is almost always the rise of another.
11. The passions often beget other passions of a quite contrary nature; avarice sometimes produces prodigality, and prodigality avarice: weakness often makes a man resolute, and fear, bold.
12. For all the care we ake to conceal our passions under the veil of religion and honour, they always appear through the disguise.
[Page 92] 13. Our self-love bears more impatiently the condemnation of our inclinations than of our opinions
14. Men are not only apt to forget kindnesses and injuries, but even to hate those who have obliged them, and to cease to hate those who have used them ill. The trouble of returning favours and revenging wrongs, seems a slavery to them, which they do not easily submit to.
15. The clemency of princes is often nothing but a piece of policy to gain the affections of their subjects.
16. That clemency which is cried up as a virtue, is practised sometimes out of vanity, sometimes out of laziness, often out of fear, and almost always out of a mixture of all three together.
17. The moderation of persons in prosperity proceeds from the calm that good fortune gives to their humour and temper.
18. Moderation is a fear of falling into that envy and contempt, which those deserve that are intoxicated with their good fortune: it is a vain ostentation of the force of our mind: and, in short, the moderation of men, in their most exalted condition, is a desire of appearing greater than their fortune.
19. We have all of us strength enough to bear the misfortunes of other people.
20. The constancy of the wise is no more than the art of confining their troubles to their own breasts.
21. Criminals, when led to execution, affect sometimes a constancy and a contempt of death, which, in truth, is nothing but a fear to look it in the face: so that this constancy and this contempt may be said to be to their mind, what the handkerchief is to their eyes.
22. Philosophy makes nothing to triumph over past and future evils, but the present triumph over that.
23. Few people are acquainted with death: they generally submit to it, not out of resolution, but insensibility and custom; and the greatest part of men die, only because they cannot avoid dying.
24. When great men are dejected with the length of their misfortunes, they discover that it was the force of their ambition, and not of their soul, that sustaineth them: and that, bating a great vanity, heroes are made just like other men.
25 Greater virtues are required to bear a good fortune than an ill one.
26. The sun and death are two things that cannot steadily be looked on.
27. Men are often vain even of the most criminal passions; but, envy is a cowardly and shameful passion, which nobody ever dares to own.
28. Jealousy is in some sort just and reasonable, since it only tends to preserve a good which belongs to us, or which we believe does belong to us: whereas envy is a madness that cannot bear the good of others.
29. The ill we do, exposes us, not so much to persecution and hatred, as our good qualities.
30. We have more power than will; and it is often to excuse
[Page 93] ourselves to ourselves, that we fancy things impossible to be effected.
31. If we had no defects of our own, we should not take so much pleasure as we do, to remark defects in others.
32. Jealousy is fed by doubts, and either becomes madness, or ceases, as soon as doubt is turned into certainty.
33. Pride always indemnifies itself one way or other, and loses nothing, even when it renounces vanity.
34. If we were not proud ourselves, we should not complain of the pride of others.
35. Pride is equal in all men, and the difference is only in the means and the manner of showing it.
36. Nature, who so wisely has fitted the organs of our body to make us happy, seems likewise to have bestowed pride on us, on purpose, as it were, to save us the pain of knowing our imperfections.
37. Pride has a greater share than good nature, in our reprehending people for their faults; and we reprove them not so much to amend them, as to make them believe we are free from those faults ourselves.
38. We make promises according to our hopes, and keep them according to our fears.
39. Interest speaks all sorts of languages, and acts all sorts of parts, even that of the disinterested person.
40. Interest, which blinds some people, enlightens others.
41. The men that apply themselves too much to little things, commonly become incapable of great.
42. We have not strength enough to follow all the dictates of our reason.
43. Man often fancies he governs himself when he is governed: and while he, with his understanding, aims at one mark, his affections insensibly carry him off to another.
44. Strength and weakness of mind are improper terms; they are, in reality, nothing but the good or ill disposition of the organs of our body.
45. The caprice of our humour is more fantastical even than that of fortune.
46. The fondness or indifference which the philosophers had for life, was nothing but a relish of self-love, which ought no more to be disputed, than the relish of the palate,
[...] the choice of colour.
47. 'Tis our humour which sets the price on all the things which we receive from fortune.
48. Happiness is in the taste, and not in the things; and it is a man's having that which he loves that makes him happy, and not what others think lovely.
49. We are never so happy, or unhappy, as we imagine.
50. Those who are conceited of their merit, take a pride in being unhappy, that they make others and themselves believe, they are worthy to be the mark of fortune.
51. Nothing ought so much to lessen the satisfaction we take in ourselves, as to see that we disapprove at one time, what we approved at another.
52. Whatever difference there may appear to be in men's fortunes,
[Page 94] there is still a certain compensation of good and ill in all, that makes them equal.
53. Let nature give never so may advantages, 'tis not she alone, but fortune in conjunction with her, that makes a hero.
54. The contempt of riches was, in the philosophers, a secret desire to revenge on fortune the injustice she had done to their merit, by despising those goods which she had denied them: 'twas an art to secure themselves from the disgrace of poverty; 'twas a by-way to arrive at esteem, which they could not come at by the ordinary one of riches.
55. Our hatred of favourites, is nothing but our love of favour: the indignation we conceive at our not possessing it ourselves, is soothed and softened by the contempt we express for those who do possess it; and we refuse them our respect, not being able to deprive them of that which procures them the respect of all the world.
56. To make a fortune in the world, men use all the means possible to appear to have made it already.
57. Tho' men value themselves on their great actions, they are not often the effects of a great design, but the effects of chance.
58. Our actions seem to have their lucky and unlucky stars, to which is owing a great part of the praise or dispraise which is gives them.
59. There is no accident so unfortunate but the prudent will make some advantage of it; nor any so fortunate that the imprudent will not turn to their prejudice.
60. Fortune turns every thing to the advantage of those she favours.
61. The happiness and unhappiness of men depend no less on their humour, than on fortune.
62. Sincerity is an openness of heart: it is found in very few people; and that which we see commonly, is not it, but a subtle dissimulation to gain the confidence of others.
63. Our aversion to lying, is often an imperceptible ambition of making our affirmations considerable, and of procuring our affections to be entertained with a religious respect.
64. Truth does not so much good in the world, as its appearances do mischief.
65. No encomiums are thought too great for prudence, yet it cannot insure as the least event.
66. A man of sense and ability, ought to assign to his several interests, their proper place, and to pursue them in their order; but this order our greediness often disturbs—putting
[...]s on running after so many things at once, that, too desirous of the less important, we miss the more considerable.
67. A good grace is to the body, what good sense is to the mind.
68. It is hard to define love: all that can be said of it is, that in the soul, it is a lust of power; in the spirits, it is a sympathy; and in the body, it is nothing but a secret and delicate desire of enjoyment after a great many difficulties.
69. If there is such a thing as love, pure and free from any mixture of our other passions, it is that love which lies concealed at the bottom of the heart, and is not known even to ourselves.
[Page 95] 70. There is no disguise which can long conceal love where it is, or feign it, where it is not.
71. There are a few people but are ashamed that they ever loved one another, when they love one another no longer.
72. To judge of love by most of its effects, one would think it was more like hatred than kindness.
73. There are some women to be found, that never had an intrigue, but rarely any to be sound, that never had but one.
74. There is no more than one sort of love, but there are a thousand different copies of it.
75. Love can, no more than fire, subsist without a continual motion; the minute it ceases to hope or fear, it ceases to live.
76. It is with true love as with apparitions—a thing every body talks of, but few have seen.
77. Love lends his name to many a correspondence which is attributed to him, in which he has no more share than the dog
[...] has in what is transacted at
Venice.
78. The love of justice, in most men, is nothing but a fear of suffering by injustice.
79. Silence is the safest course for the man that distrusts himself.
80. The thing that makes us so changeable in our friendships is, that 'tis difficult to know the qualities of the soul, and easy to know those of the understanding.
81. We cannot love any thing but with a regard to ourselves; and we do but pursue our inclination at pleasure, when we prefer our friends to ourselves; yet, 'tis this preference alone, that can make our friendships sincere and perfect.
82. Our reconciliation with our enemies, is nothing but a desire of bettering our condition, a weariness of the state of war, and a fear of some mischievous event.
83. The thing which men call friendship, is nothing but partnership, a mutual regard to their several interests, and an exchange of good offices; it is, in short, nothing but a trafic, in which self-love always proposes to itself in something or other to be a gainer.
84. 'Tis more dishonourable to distrust our friends, than to be deceived by them.
85. We often fancy that we love the persons that are greater in power than ourselves, when it is interest alone that is the cause of this kindness. We devote not ourselves to them for the good we desire to do them, but for the good we desire to receive from them.
86. Our own distrust justifies the deceit of others.
87. Men would not live long in society together, if they were not the bubbles of one another.
88. Self-love increases or lessens in our esteem, the good qualities of our friends, in proportion to the satisfaction we take in them: and we judge of their merit by their manner of living with us.
89. Every body complains of his memory, but no body of his judgment.
90. In our conversation in the world, we please oftener by our faults, than by our good qualities.
91. The greatest ambition has not the least appearance of ambition, when it finds the thing aspired to, absolutely impossible to be attained.
[Page 96] 92. To undeceive a man prepossessed with his own merit, is to do him as ill an office as that which was done to the madman at
Athens, who fancied all the ships which arrived in the harbour were his own.
93. Old people love to give good precepts, to comfort themselves on their being no longer in a condition to give ill examples.
94. Great titles debase, instead of heightening the persons, who know not how to support them.
95. A certain sign of a man's having an extraordinary merit, is to see those who envy him most, constrained to commend him.
96. There are some ungrateful persons who are less to be blamed for their ingratitude than their benefactors.
97. 'T was a mistake when people made wit and judgment to be two different things: the judgment is nothing but a greater degree of wit, that penetrates into the bottom of things, observes all that ought to be observed, and discovers those things which seemed impossible to be discovered: from whence it must be concluded, that it is the greatest extent of wit which produces all the effects which are attributed to judgment.
98. Every man has assurance enough to boast of his honesty, but no one has impudence enough to boast of his understanding.
99. The politeness of the understanding consists in inventing obliging things with delicacy.
100. The gallantry of the understanding lies in saying insinuating things after an agreeable manner.
101. It often happens, that things present themselves to our mind more finished than the mind an make them with a great deal of art.
102. The understanding is always the bubble of the passions.
103. They that are acquainted with the extent of their understanding, are not always acquainted with the extent of their honesty.
104. Men and actions have their point of light: there are some that must be seen near to make a right judgment of them; and others, that are never so well to be judged of as when at a distance.
105. That man is not a reasonable man whom chance throws upon reason; but he who knows, distinguishes and tastes it.
106. To know things well, it is necessary to know the particulars of them; but as those are almost infinite, our knowledge is always superficial and imperfect.
107. 'Tis one sort of coquetry to affect to be always exempt from it.
108. The understanding cannot for any long time act the part of passion.
109. Young men change their inclinations through heat of blood, and old men keep theirs through custom.
110. Men
[...] of nothing so liberal as of their advice.
111. The more a man loves his mistress, the nearer he is to hate her.
112. The defects of our mind increase as we grow old, like those of our faces.
113. Some marriages may be advantageous, but none can be delicious.
[Page 97] 114. We are never to be comforted on our being cheated by our enemies, and betrayed by our friends; yet are often well enough pleased to be both cheated and betrayed by our own selves.
115. 'Tis as easy to deceive one's self without perceiving it, as it is difficult to deceive others without being perceived.
116. Nothing is less sincere than the manner of asking and giving advice: he that asks it, appears to have a respectful deference for the opinion of his friend, though all he aims at is gaining an approbation of his own, and warranting his conduct by the other's authority: and he that advises, requites the confidence reposed in him with an ardent and disinterested zeal, though most commonly he has no other end in the counsel he gives, than his own interest or reputation.
117. The most subtle sort of tricking, is to know well how to feign ourselves caught in the snares that are laid for us; and never are we so easily deceived as when we are contriving how to deceive others.
118. Our intention of never deceiving any body, exposes us to be often deceived.
119. We are so used to appear in masquerade to others, that at last we appear in masquerade to ourselves.
120. Men are oftener treacherous out of weakness, than out of any formed design.
121. Men often do good, that they may be able to do ill with impunity.
122. If we are able to resist our passions, it is more through their weakness than our strength.
123. It would be but a little pleasure which we should have, were we never to flatter ourselves.
124. The most subtle men affect all their lifetime to condemn tricking, that they may make use of it on some great occasion, and for some important interest.
125. The common practice of tricking is the sign of a little understanding; tricking being a sort of a disguise, by which a man hides himself in one place and exposes himself in another.
126. Tricking and treachery proceed from nothing but want of capacity.
127. The certain way to be cheated, is to fancy one's self more cunning than others.
128. Too great subtelty is a false delicacy, and true delicacy is real subtelty.
129. The dullness of some people, is often protection enough to secure them from being imposed on by a man of sense.
130. Weakness of mind is the only defect that cannot be amended.
131. The least defect in women, who are so far abandoned as to make advances, is to make advances.
132. It is easier to be wise for other people than for ourselves.
133. The only good copies are those which expose the ridiculousness of bad originals.
134. Men are never so ridiculous for the qualities they have, as for those they affect to have.
[Page 98] 135. A m
[...]n is sometimes as different from himself, as he is from others.
136. There are some people who would never have been in love, if they had never heard of love.
137. When vanity does not make us talk, we talk but very little.
138. We choose to talk ill of ourselves, rather than not talk at all of ourselves.
139. One of the reasons why we meet with so few people who appear reasonable and agreeable in conversation, is, that there is hardly
[...] body who does not think more on what he has a mind to say, than how pertinently to answer to what is said to him. Even men of the best sense, and most complaisance, content themselves with only pretending an attention, at the same time that it is observable, their eyes and minds are wandering from what is said to them, and they are impatient to return to what they long to say: instead of considering, that this violent pursuing their own pleasure, is but an indifferent way to please or persuade others, and
[...] attentively to hear, and properly to reply, are the greatest perfections any man can be master of to sit him for conversation.
140. A man of wit would be often at a grievous loss, were it not for the company of fools.
141. We o
[...]ten make our boasts that we are never out of humour; and are so vain that we will not think ourselves bad company.
142. As it is the character of great wits, to express a great deal in a few words; so, little wits, on the contrary, have the gift of speaking much and saying nothing.
143. It is more from an esteem of our own opinion that we extol the good qualities of other people, than from an esteem of their merit: and we are desirous to receive praise, when we seem to give it.
144. Nobody loves to praise another, and never does it without self-
[...]rest. Praise is an artful, disguised and delicate flattery, which by
[...] ways satisfies both the giver and receiver: one accepts it
[...] the reward of his merit; the other gives it to show his equity and discernment.
145. We often choose such praises as carry venom along with them, and which by a side blow, expose some defects in the person commended, that we durst not discover after another manner.
146. We commonly praise, only to be praised.
147. Few people are wise enough to prefer the reproof that does them good, to the praise that betrays them.
148. There are some reproaches which are praises, and some praises which are detractions.
149. To refuse praise, is to desire to be praised over again.
150. The desire of d
[...]erving the pr
[...]ses given us, strength
[...] our virtue: and those which are given to our wit, valour or beauty, contribute to increase them.
151. It is more difficult for us to avoid being governed, th
[...]n to govern others.
152. If we did not flatter ourselves, the flattery of others could never hurt us.
153. Nature gives merit, and fortune
[...] it at work.
[Page 99] 154. Fortune breaks us of many faults which reason never could do.
155. There are some people who with merit are disgustful, and others, who with great defects are agreeable.
156. There are some people whose whole merit lies in saying and doing foolish things advantageously, and would spoil all should they alter their conduct.
157. The glory of great men ought always to be measured by the means they took to acquire it.
158. Flattery is a false coin, which would have no currency but for our vanity.
159. It is not enough for a man to have great qualities, he must have the good government of them too.
160. Let an action be never so glorious, it ought not to pass for great, when it is not the effect of a great design.
161. There ought to be a certain proportion between our actions and our designs, if we would reap all the effects which they are able to produce.
162. The art of knowing how to use indifferent qualifications, gains, as it were, by stealth, the esteem of the world, and often procures a man more reputation than real merit would do.
163. The conduct of some people in a thousand instances appears ridiculous, though the secret reasons for them are very wise and very solid.
164. It is easier to appear worthy of the employments we have not, than worthy of those we have.
165. Our merit gains us the esteem of men of sense, and our stars the esteem of the vulgar.
166. The world rewards the appearances of merit, oftener than merit itself.
167. Covetousness is more opposite to economy than liberality.
168. Hope, deceitful as it is, serves at least to lead us through a pleasant road to our lives end.
169. While laziness and timorousness restrain us within the bounds of our duty, our virtue often runs away with all the honour of it.
170. It is difficult to judge, whether a clear, open and honourable proceeding, be the effect of probity or artifice.
171. Virtues are lost in interest, as rivers are lost in the sea.
172. If we well imagine the several consequences of our being out of humour, we shall find that it makes us wanting to more duties than interest itself.
173. There are several sorts of curiosity: One sort proceeds from interest, which inclin
[...]s us to desire to learn t
[...]ose things which may be useful to us; and the other from pride, which comes from a desire of knowing those things which other people are ignorant of.
174. It is
[...]etter to employ the faculties of our mind
[...]o support the misfortunes which do happen to us, than to foresee those which may happen.
175. Constancy in love is a perpetual inconstancy, that causes us to fix our heart successively on all the qualities of the person we love▪ som
[...]mes giving preference to one, sometimes to another: So that
[Page 100] th
[...]s constancy is nothing but an inconstancy, restrained and confined to one and the same object
176. There are two sorts of constancy in love
[...] one proceeds from our finding continually in the person beloved new motives for our love; and the other proceeds from our making it a point of honour to be constant.
177. Perseverance is neither praise nor blame-worthy, because it is only the continuance of some inclinations, and some sentiments which men neither give nor take away from themselves.
178. What makes us love new acquaintance, is not so much our being weary of the old, or a pleasure we take in change, as a disgust to find ourselves not sufficiently admired by those who are too well acquainted with us, and a hope of being more admired by those who are not acquainted with us so well.
179. We sometimes with levity complain of our friends, to justify before hand our own levity.
180. Our repentance is not so much a remorse for the ill which we have done, as a fear of the ill which may happen to us.
181. There is an inconstancy which proceeds from the levity of the mind, or from its weakness, that causes it to receive all the opinions of other▪ people; and there is another which is more excusable, which proceeds from a disgust of things.
182. Vices are mixed to compound virtues, as poisons are to compound medicines: prudence mingles and tempers them, and makes use of them successfully against the maladies of life.
183. This must be acknowledged to the honour of virtue, that the greatest misfortunes of men, are those that befal them from their crimes.
184. We confess our faults, to repair by our sincerity the damage they have done us in the minds of others.
185. There are heroes in evil as well as in good.
186. We despise not all those who have vices; but we despise all
[...] who have no virtues at all.
187. The name of virtue is a
[...] serviceable to our interest as any vice can be.
188. The health of the soul is no more to be depended on, than that of the body: and though we appear secure from passions, we are not in less danger of being hurried away with them, than we are of falling sick, when we are in perfect health.
189. Nature seems to have marked out to every man at his birth, the bounds of his virtues and vices.
190. It belongs only to great men to have great faults.
191. Vices may be said to wait for us in the course of our lives, like the hosts of so many inns, with whom successively we are forced to lodge; and I doubt whether experience would teach us to avoid them, if it was permitted us twice to travel the same road
192. When vices leave us, we flatter ourselves with the belief that we leave them.
193. There are relapses in the distempers of the soul, as in those of the body; what we take for a cure, is most commonly nothing but an abatement, or a change of disease.
194. The defects of the soul are like wounds in the body: let what
[Page 101] care soever be taken to heal them, the sear always appears, and they are every minute in danger of breaking out again.
195. What prevents us often from giving up ourselves to one single vice, is, we have a great many vices.
196. We easily forget our faults when they are known only to ourselves.
197. There are some people of whom we can never believe any ill, unless we see it; but there are none in whom we ought to be surprised to see it.
198. We raise the reputation of some, to pull down that of others; and sometime the prince of
Conde, and Mareschal
de
[...]urenne would not be so much extolled, if it were not with an intention of lessening either one or the other in the comparison.
199. The desire of appearing to be a man of sense and ability, often hinders a person from being such.
200. Virtue would not go so far, if vanity did not bear her company.
201. The man that fancies he his able to live without all the world, is very much mistaken; but he that fancies there is no living without him, is m
[...]staken much more.
202. The pretended accomplished men are those who disguise their defects from others and themselves: the true accomplished men, are those who perfectly know their own defects, and confe
[...]s them.
203. The true accomplished man, is one who values himself on nothing.
204. Womens coyness is only a dress or paint, which they use as
[...]n addition to their beauty.
205. Womens honour is often nothing but a love for their ease and their reputation.
206. A certain proof of a man's being truly accomplished, is to be willing always to be exposed to the view of accomplished men.
207. Folly attends us close in all the several ages of life. If some one man appears wise, it is only because his follies are proportioned to his age and fortune.
208. There are some silly people, who are sensible of their simplicity, and make a wise use of it.
209. The man who lives without folly, is not so wise as he fancies.
210. As we grow old, we grow more foolish and more wise.
211. There are some men, like ballads, in request only for a while.
212. The generality of the wo
[...]ld never judge of men, but by their reputation or by their fortune.
213. The love of glory, the fear of shame, the design of making a fortune, the desire of rendering life easy and agreeable, and a malicious humour of pulling down others, are often the causes of that va
[...]our so much celebrated among men.
214. Valour in private soldiers is a hazardous trade they have taken up to get a livelihood by.
215. Perfect courage and co
[...]plete cowardice are two extremes which men seldom arrive to. The space that is between them is vast, and contains all the other sorts of courage: which differs too no less
[Page 102] from one another than mens faces and humours. The
[...]e are some men who freely expose themselves at the beginning of an action, but abate of their warmth and are disheartened if it continues. There are some that content themselves, when they have done what was necessary to maintain their honour to the world, and do little beyond that. It is observable, some people are not always equally masters of their fears. Others are sometimes carried away by general terrors. Others advance to the charge, because they dare not stay at their posts. Some, by accustoming themselves to smaller dangers, harden their courage, and
[...] themselves for venturing on greater. Some are brave with a sword, but fear a musket shot. Others are unconcerned at a m
[...]sket, but afraid of a sword. All these several sorts of courage agree in this, that night increasing fear, and concealing all that is either well or ill done, gives every body the liberty of sparing themselves. There is still another more general regard that a man has for himself; for no body you see, upon occasion, does so much as he would be capable of doing, were he sure to come safely
[...] So it is plain, that the fear of death considerably detracts from our courage.
216. Perfect courage consists in doing that without witnesses, which it would be capable of doing before all the world.
217. Intrepidity is an extraordinary force of the soul, that raises it above all the trouble, disorders and emotions, which the prospect of great dangers is able to excite: and it is by this force of soul, that heroes keep themselves serene and
[...], and preserves the free use of their reason i
[...] the midst of the most surprising and amazing accidents.
218. Hypocrisy is a homage that vice pays to virtue.
219. Most men expose themselves in war enough to save their honour, but few are willing always to expose themselves, so much as it is necessary, to render the design successful, for which they do expose themselves.
220. Vanity, shame, and, above all, constitution, make up, very often, the courage of men, and the virtue of women.
221. Men would not lose their lives, yet would
[...]ain acquire glory; which is the reason, that brave men show more dexterity and wit to avoid death, than the men, versed in the querks o
[...] law do, to preserve their estates.
222. There are few persons but discover, upon their first declining in years, where the failings of their body and mind are likely to lye.
223. It is with gratitude as with trust among tradesmen—it keeps up commerce; and we do not pay because it is just to discharge our debts, but to engage people the more easily to lend us another time.
224. All those who acquit themselves of the duties of gratitude, cannot, for all that, flatter themselves that they are grateful.
225. That which makes the false reckoning in the acknowledgments which are expected for favours done, is, because the pride of the giver, and the pride of the receiver, cannot agree upon the value of the obligation.
226. To be too hasty to return an obligation, is one sort of ingratitude.
227. Happy people are never to be corrected; they always think they are in the right, when fortune supports the
[...] ill conduct.
228. Pride would never owe, and self-love would never pay,
[Page 103] 229. The good we have received from any person, requires that we should pay a respect to the injuries he does us.
230. Nothing is so contagious as example; and we never do any great good, or any great mischief, but it produces the like. We imitate good actions through emulation, and bad, through the malignity of our nature, which shame held a prisoner, but which example sets at liberty.
231. It is a great folly to set up for being wise by ones self.
232. Whatever preaences we may have for our afflictions, nothing, very often, but interest and vanity, are the causes of them.
233. There are in afflictions, several sorts of hypocrisy. In one sort, under pretence of grieving for the loss of a person who was dear to us, we grieve for ourselves: we mourn for the loss of that good opinion he had of us; we grieve for the diminution of our profit, our pleasure, and our reputation. Thus, the dead have the honour of those tears, which are shed only for the living. This, I say, is a species of hypocrisy; because, in these sorts of afflictions, men impose on themselves. There is another sort of hypocrisy, which is not so innocent, because it imposes on all the world: it is the affliction of certain persons, who aspire to the glory of a great and immortal grief. After that time, which consumes all things, has worn out that concern, which they really had, they still grow obstinate in their tears, complaints, and sighs: they set up for playing a mournful part, and take pains, by all their actions, to persuade us, that their sorrow will never end, but with their lives. This dismal and tiresome vanity, is usual with ambitious women: as their sex has excluded them from all the ways that lead to glory, they strive to distinguish themselves by shewing the pomp of an affliction that is not to be comforted. There is yet another kind of tears, which have out shallow springs, that flow indeed, but are easily dried up. There are those that weep to gain the reputation of being tender: those that weep, that they may be pitied: those that weep to be condoled; and those, in short, that weep, to avoid the scandal of being thought insensible.
234. It is oftener through pride, than through any defect of understanding, that men, with so much obstinacy, oppose opinions generally received: they find the first rank of the right side taken, and they disda
[...] the second.
235. We are easily comforted for the disgraces of our friends, when they give us occasion of signalising our tenderness for them.
236. Self-love seems to be the bubble of good nature, and that it forgets itself when we labour for the advantage of others. Nevertheless, it is the most certain way to accomplish its ends: it is l
[...]nding at interest under the pretence of giving: it is, in short, gaining the affections of all the world, after a more subtle and delicate manner.
237. No man deserves to be commended for goodness, who has not spirit enough to be wicked: all other goodness is most commonly nothing but a listlessness and an impotence of the will.
238. It is not so dangerous to do ill to the greatest part of men, as to do them too much good.
239. Nothing flatters our pride mo
[...] than the trust the great repose in us; because we look on it as the effect of our merit, without
[Page 104] considering, that this trust most commonly proceeds from their vanity, or their want of power to keep a secret.
240. We may say of gracefulness distinguished from beauty, that it is a symmetry, the rules of which are unknown to us; and a secret conformity of the features with one another, and of the features with the complexion and air of the person.
241. Coqu
[...]try is the natural humour of the sex: though all women do not practise it, because some are awed by fear, and others restrained by reason.
242. We frequently are troublesome to others, when we think it impossible for us ever to be troublesome.
243. There are few things impossible in their own nature; and it is for want of application, rather than of means, that we are unsuccessful.
244. The perfection of capacity consists in knowing well the value of things.
245. It is a great point of capacity to be able to conceal ones capacity.
246. That which appears to us to be generosity, is nothing often but an ambition disguised, which despises little interests to pursue greater.
247. The fidelity which appears in the greatest part of men,
[...] nothing but an
[...]vention of self-love, to oblige others to confide in us: it is a means to set us above others, and to make us the confidents of their most important secrets.
248. Magnanimity despises all in order to obtain all.
249. There is not less eloquence in the tone of the voice, in the eyes and an of the person that speaks, than in the choice of expressions.
250. True eloquence consists in saying all that ought to be said▪ and in saying no more.
251. There are some persons whose defects become them; and others, who have the misfortune to displease with their good qualities.
252. It is as common for men to change their tastes, as it is uncommon for them to change their inclinations.
253. Interest sets at work all sorts of virtues and vices.
254. Humility is often nothing but a feigned submission, which men make use of to engage others to submit to them: it is an artifice of pride, which debases itself on purpose to be exalted; and though it transforms itself into a thousand shapes, is never better disguised, and more capable of deceiving, than when it conceals itse
[...] under the form of humility.
255. The sentiments of the mind have each of them a certain tone of vo
[...], certain gestures and airs, which are proper and peculiar to them; and this propriety, either well or ill observed, agreeable or disagreeable, is the thing which makes persons pleasing or displeasing.
256. The men of all professions affect the air and exterior appearance of what they would be esteemed
[...]; so that it may be said, that the world is made up of nothing
[...]ut appearances.
[Page 105] 257. Gravity is an affectation of the body, put on to conceal the defects of the mind.
258. A good taste is the effect of judgment more than wit.
259. The pleasure of love is loving: and a man is more happy in the passion he feels, than in that which he gives.
260. Civility, is a desire of receiving civility, and of being esteemed well bred.
261. The education we commonly give young people, is a second self-love, with which we inspire them.
262. There is no passion in which self-love reigns so powerfully as in love: and we are always readier to sacrifice the ease of those we love, than to part with our own.
263. What we call liberality, is nothing, most commonly, but the vanity of giving, of which we are fonder than of the thing we give.
264. Pity is often a sense of our misfortunes, in the misfortunes of other men: it is a wise foresight of the disasters that may befal us: We relieve others, to engage them to relieve us on the like occasions: and the services which we do them are, properly speaking, so many kindnesses which we do to ourselves beforehand.
265. Littleness of mind is the cause of stiffness in opinion; and it is not easily that we believe any thing beyond what we see.
266. It is a mistake to believe that none but the violent passions, such as ambition and love, are able to triumph over the other passions. Laziness, as languid as it is, often gets the mastery of them all: usurps over all designs, and actions of life, and insensibly destroys and consumes both passion and virtue.
267. A readiness to believe ill, without the examination, is the effect of pride and laziness. We are willing to find others guilty; and unwilling to give ourselves the trouble of examining into their crimes.
268. We except against some judges in things of the least concern, yet are willing to have our reputation and honour depend on the judgment of men who are all against us, either through jealousy, prejudice, or want of discernment: and it is only to engage these to pronounce sentence in our favour, that we expose to many several ways our ease and our lives.
269. There are few men have understanding enough to know the ill they do.
270. The honour a man has acquired▪ is security for that which the will one day acquire.
271. Youth is a continual drunkenness; the fever of reason.
272. Nothing ought more to mortify the men who have deserved great applause, than the pains they are still at, to make themselves considerable by a great many little things.
273. There are persons whom the world approves of, whose only merit consists in vices, that are useful and pleasing to others.
274. The charm of novelty is to love, what the bloom is upon fruit; it gives it a lustre that is easily effaced, and never returns.
[Page 106] 275. Good-nature, which boasts of being so very sensible, is often stifled by the smallest interest.
276. Absence lessens moderate passions, but increases great ones; like the wind which blows out
[...]apers, but kindles sire.
277. Women often fancy themselves in love, when there is nothing of love in the case. The amusement of an amour, the commotions of mind that an intrigue gives them, the natural inclinations they have for the pleasure of being beloved, and the pain of refusing, persuade them that what they feel is passion, when it is nothing but coqu
[...]try.
278. What often makes us dissatisfied with those that negotiate our affairs, is, that they almost always abandon the interest of their friends, to advance the success of their negotiation: the interest becoming their own, by the credit they gain in succeeding in the thing they undertook.
279. When we magnify the tenderness that our friends have for us, it is often not so much out of gratitude, as a desire to give others an opinion of our merit.
280. The approbation we give those that are just entering into the world, proceeds often from a secret envy which we bear those who have made a fortune in it already.
281. Pride which inspires us with so much envy, serves often to allay it.
282. There are some disguised falsities which represent the truth so well, that it would be wronging our judgments not to be deceived by them.
283. It is not less prudence sometimes to know how to use good advice, than to be able to advice one's self.
284. There are some had men who would be less dangerous if they had no virtues at all.
285. Magnanimity is sufficiently defined by its name; yet it may be said to be the most judicious act of pride, and the most noble method of acquiring applause.
286. It is impossible to love a second time the thing that we have once truly ceased to love.
287. It is not so much the fruitfulness of our invention which suggests to us many expedients to effect the same affair, as it is the defect of our judgment, which makes us pitch upon every thought that presents itself to our imagination, and prevents us from discerning the best at first.
288. There are affairs and distempers, at certain junctures, which remedies render desperate: and a great deal of skill is required to know when it is dangerous to apply them.
289. Affected simplicity is a finer sort of imposture.
290. There are more defects in mens' humours than in their understandings.
291. Mens' merits have their seasons, as well as fruits.
292. Mens' humours may be said, like the generality of buildings, to have several fronts; some agreeable, others disagreeable.
293. Moderation can never have the glory of combating with ambition, and conquering it: for they never meet with one another
[Page 107] Moderation is the langour and sloth of the soul, as ambition is the vigour and activity of it.
294. We always love those that admire us, but we do not always love those whom we admire.
295. We are far from knowing all our desires.
296. It is hard for us to love those whom we do not esteem: but it is no less hard to love those whom we esteem much more than ourselves.
297. The humours of the body have a constant and regular course, by which our will is imperceptibly moved and turned; they take their circuit, and suc
[...]ssively exercise a secret empire within us: so that they have a considerable share in our actions, without our being able to know it.
298. The gratitude of the generality of men, is nothing but a secret desire of obtaining greater favours.
299. Every body, almost, takes a pleasure to return small obligations; many are grateful for moderate ones; but there is hardly any body but is ungrateful for great ones.
300. There are some follies which are as catching as infectious diseases.
301. Many men despise wealth, but few know how to be liberal.
302. It is but in things of small concern, commonly, in which we venture to disbelieve appearances
303. Let men say never so much good of us, they tell us nothing that is new to us.
304. We often forgive those who in conversation are tiresome to us, but we cannot forgive those whom we are tiresome to.
305. Interest, which we accuse of all our crimes, deserves often to be commended for our good actions.
306. We seldom find people ungrateful, as long as we are in a condition to oblige them.
307. It is as commendable in a man to entertain a good opinion of himself, as it is ridiculous to shew it.
308. Moderation has been made a virtue, with a design to limit the ambition of great men, and to comfort the meaner sort, on the smallness of their fortune, and of their merit.
309. There are some people predestined to be fools, who not only commit follies by choice, but who are forced into them even by fortune herself.
310. There happen sometimes accidents in life, out of which, it is necessary for a man to be a little mad, to extricate himself.
311. If there are some people whose blind sides have never been discovered, it is because no man of sense has taken pains to search for them.
312. The reason why lovers and their mistresses are never tired with conversing together, is because their discourse is always of themselves.
313. How comes it about that our memory should serve us to retain even the smallest circumstances of the things that have happened to us; and yet that it should not serve us to remember how often we have told them all to the same person?
314. The extreme pleasure that we take in talking of ourselves, ought to make us afraid that we give but little to those that hear us.
[Page 108] 315. That which hinders us commonly from letting our friends see the bottom of our hearts, is not so much the diffidence we have of them, as the diffidence we have of ourselves.
316. It is not in the power of a weak man to be sincere.
317. It is no great misfortune to oblige ungrateful people; but it is an intolerable one to be obliged to a brutal man.
318. Means may be found to cure madness, but there are none to reform a perverse understanding.
319. We cannot long preserve the sentiments we ought to have of our friends and benefactors, if we allow ourselves the liberty to talk often of their failings.
320. To praise princes for virtues which they have not, is a secure way of abusing them.
321. We are more inclined to love those that hate us, than th
[...]se who love us more than we have a mind they should.
322. There are none who are afraid to be despised, but those th
[...] are despicable.
323. Our wisdom is no less at the mercy of fortune than our wealth.
324. In jealousy there is more self-love than love.
325. We often comfort ourselves through weakness for misfortunes, under which reason has not strength enough to comfort us.
326. A man's blind side dishonours him more than real dishonour.
327. We never confess our small faults, but to make it believed that we have no great ones.
328. Envy is more irreconcileable than hatred.
329. Men sometimes fancy that they hate flattery, but they only have the manner of it.
330. We forgive as long as we love.
331. It is more difficult for a man to be faithful to his mistress, when he receives favours from her, than when he is scurvily used by her.
332. Women are not sensible of all their coquetry.
333. Women are never completely severe but where they have an aversion.
334. Women can more easily get the better of their passion than of their coquetry.
335. In love, deceit goes almost always farther than distrust.
336. There is a certain sort of love, whose excess prevents jealousy.
337. It is with certain good qualities as it is with our senses; those that are entirely deprived of them, can neither discern nor comprehend them.
338. When our hatred is too violent, it sinks us beneath those w
[...] hate.
339. We are not sensible of our good or ill-fortune, but in proportion to our self-love.
340. Wit in most women serves more to improve their folly th
[...]n their reason.
341. The fire of youth is hardly a greater obstacle to salvation, than the coolness and insensibility of age.
[Page 109] 342. The character of a man's native country, is as inherent to his mind and temper, as the accent of it is to his speech.
343. He that would be a great man, ought to know how to push his fortune to the utmost.
344. Most men, as well as plants, have secret virtues which are discovered by chance.
345. There is no regulating the passions and minds of women, if the constitution is not consenting.
346. Accidents and occasions make us known to others, but much more to ourselves.
347. We rarely allow any people to have good sense but those of our own opinion.
348. When we are in love, we doubt often of the thing which we believe the most.
349. The greatest miracle that love can work is curing coquetry.
350. The thing that make us so severe upon those that put tricks upon us, is, because they fancy themselves to have more wit than we have.
351. Lovers find it difficult to break off, after they have done loving.
352. We are almost always tired with those people whom we ought never to be tired with.
353. A man of sense may love like a madman, but never like a fool.
354. There are some faults which, being set to advantage, appear more bright than virtue itself.
355. We often lose some persons whom we miss more than we lament; and others we lament, but miss very little.
356. We commonly praise nobody heartily but those who admire us.
357. Little minds are too much disordered by little things; great minds see all things, and are disordered by none.
358. Humility is the true proof of Christian virtues: without it we retain all our faults, and they are only covered over with pride, that conceals them from others, and often from ourselves.
359. Infidelity ought to extinguish love, and we should never be jealous when we have ground to be so: there are no persons but those that avoid giving us jealousy, that are worthy of our being jealous of them.
360. The least infidelity to us, discredits the person that commits it in our esteem, more than the greatest infidelity to any body else.
361. Jealousy is always born with love, but does not always die with it.
362. Most women lament not the death of their lovers, so much because they loved them, as because they would appear worthy of being beloved.
363. The violences done to us by others, are often less painful than those we do ourselves.
[Page 110] 364. We are sensible enough that a man ought not to talk of his wife; but are not sensible enough that
[...]e ought still less to talk of himself.
365. There are some good qualities, which degenerate into defects when they are natural; and others which are never perfect when they are acquired: thus, for example, it is reason that must make us frugal of our wealth and of our secrets; and nature, on the contrary, that must give us good humour and courage.
366. What diffidence soever we have of the sincerity of those whom we converse with, we always believe they speak more truth to us than to any body else.
367. There are few honest women but what are weary of their profession.
368. Most honest women are hidden treasures; only secure because they are not sought after.
369. The violences which we use to ourselves to prevent loving, are often more cruel than the rigours shewn us by the person we love.
370. There are few cowards who always know the extent of their fears.
371. It is almost always the fault of the man that is in love,
[...] to be sensible when he ceases to be loved.
372. The generality of young people fancy themselves to be natural and unaffected, when, they are only rough and ill-bred.
373. There are some tears, which after they have imposed on others, often impose on ourselves.
374. If a man fancies he loves his mistress for her own sake, he is mightily mistaken.
375. The people of moderate parts commonly condemn every thing that is beyond their reach.
376. Envy is destroyed by true friendship, and coquetry by true love.
377. The greatest fault in penetration is not its falling short, but its going beyond the mark.
378. We may give good counsel, but cannot bestow good conduct.
379. When our merit declines, o
[...] taste decline
[...].
380. Fortune discovers our virtues and vices, as light does objects.
381. The violence which we use to preserve our fidelity in love, is little better than infidelity.
382. Our actions are like blank
[...]ymes, to which every body applies what sense he pleases.
383. The fondness we have of talking of ourselves, and of the wing our fa
[...]lings on the side we would have them shew
[...], makes up a part of our sincerity.
384. Nothing ought to make us wonder, but that we should be still able to wonder at any thing.
385. Men are almost equally difficult to be contented when they are much in love, or when they are got out of it.
386. No people are oftener in the wrong than those who cannot bear being so.
387. A blockhead has not stuff enough in him to be good for any
[...].
[Page 111] 388. If vanity does not quite overturn our virtues, at least it makes them all to totter.
389. The thing that makes other people's vanity insupportable to us, is, that it shocks our own.
390. We forego our interest with more case than we do our taste.
391. Fortune never appears so blind as she does to those whom she never favours.
392. We ought to treat fortune as we do health; enjoy her when good, bear with her when
[...] and never apply violent remedies, unless in great necessity.
393. The air of a citizen is sometimes lost in a camp, but never in a court.
394. One man may be more cunning than another, but not more cunning than every body else.
395. We are sometimes less unhappy in being deceived by the person we love, than in being undeceived.
396. Women are a long time true to their first love, except they happen to have a second.
397. We have not the assurance to say in general, that we have no failings, and that our enemies have no good qualities; but let us descend to particulars, and we are not far from believing so.
398. Of all our failings, laziness is that which we are most easily induced to confess: we persuade ourselves, that it partakes of all the peaceable virtues, and that, without
[...]ntirely destroying the others, it only suspends the exercise of them.
399. There is on
[...] which is independent of fortune; this a certain air which distinguishes us, and seems to design us to great things; it is a value which insensibly we set upon ourselves; it is by this quality chiefly that we extort respect from others
[...] this is it which commonly raises us above them more than either birth, honours, or m
[...]rit, itself.
400. There is some merit without
elevation, but no
elevation, without some sort of merit.
401.
Elevation is to merit, what dross is to a fine woman.
402. The thing which is least to be met with in gallantry is love.
403. Fortune sometimes makes use of our failings to advance us; and there are some troublesome people, whose merit would be ill rewarded, if we were not desirous at any rate to purchase their absence.
404. Nature seems to have concealed, in the inmost recesses of our
[...], some
[...]alents, and some one ability unknown to
[...]; the passions alone have the power of bringing these to light, and of furnishing us sometimes with more
[...] and more completed designs, than any that art is able to do.
405. We arrive altogether raw at the several stages of life, and often find at our arrival at them, that time
[...]tself has not been able to teach us experience.
406. Coquets take a pride in being jealous of their lovers,
[...]o conceal the envy they bear to other women.
407. Those that are over-reached by our artifices, do no
[...] appear nigh so ridiculous to us as we appear to ourselves, when we are overreached by the artifices of others.
[Page 112] 408. The most
[...]andalous blind side of women advanced in years, that have been once beautiful, is to forget that are so no longer.
409. We should often be ashamed of our brightest actions, if the world could see upon what motives they were performed.
410. The greatest effort of friendship, is not the discovering our
[...]ailings to a friend, but the she wing him his own.
411. There are but
[...]ew defects which are not more pardonable than the means that are used to conceal them.
412. What shame soever we may have deserved, it is almost always in our power to recover our reputation.
413. The man can never please long that has but one sort of wit.
414. Mad men and fools see only by their humour.
415. Wit sometimes gives us a privilege to play the fool boldly.
416. The vivacity which increases with old age, is not far removed from madness.
417. In love, the party that is first cured, is always the best cured.
418. Young women that would not appear coquets, and old men that would not be ridiculous, ought never to talk of love as a thing that concerned them.
419. We may appear great in an employment below our merit: but we often appear little in an employment too great for us.
420. In our afflictions, we often take want of spirit for constancy of mind; and we bear them without so much as daring to look them in the face, as poor passive cowards are killed, because they are afraid to defend themselves.
421. Confidence furnishes more to conversation than wit.
422. All the passions cause us to commit faults, but love to commit the most ridiculous ones.
423. Few people know how to be old.
424. We value ourselves on the defects which are most opposite to our own; when we are irresolute, we boast of being obstinate.
425. Penetration has an appearance of divining, which flatters our vanity more than all the other qualities of our mind.
426. The charms of a new acquaintance, and the influence of an old one, as opposite as they are to one another, do equally hinder us from finding out the failings of our friends.
427. The generality of friends put us out of conceit with friendship, and the generality of devout persons put us out of conceit with devotion.
428. We easily forgive in our friends the faults that have no relation to us.
429. Women in love more easily forgive great indiscretions than small infidelities.
430. In old love, as in old age, we live to pain when we live no longer to pleasure.
431. Nothing hinders a man so much from being unaffected, as the fondness of appearing so.
432. To commend brave actions with warmth, is in some measure, to give ourselves a share in the merit of them.
433. The truest sign of a noble soul, is to be placed by nature above envy.
434. When our friends have betrayed us, a bare indifference is
[Page 113] only due to their professions of friendship; but a sensible concern is always due to their misfortunes.
435. Fortune and humour govern the world.
436. It is easier to know mankind in general, than any one man in particular.
437. We ought not to judge of the merit of a man by his great qualities, but by the use he knows how to make of them.
438. There is a certain gratitude so sensible, that it not only discharges us of the obligations we have received, but even makes our friends indebted to us, while we do but pay what we owed to them.
439. There would be but few things which we should desire passionately, if we knew perfectly the nature of the things we desired.
440. The reason why most women are so little touched with friendship, is, because friendship is but insipid to those that have been sensibl
[...] of love.
441. In friendship, as in love, we are often more happy, by the things we do not know, than by those we know.
442. We endeavour
[...]o make ourselves valued on the failings which we have no mind to amend.
443. The most violent passions often give us some respite, but vanity never lets us be at quiet.
444. Old fools are greater fools than young ones.
445. Vice is not so oppos
[...]e to virtue as w
[...]akness.
446. The thing that renders the pains of shame and jealousy so sharp, is, because vanity can be of no use to us in supporting them.
447. Decency is the least of all laws, yet the most observed.
448. A man of a good understanding finds it less troublesome to submit to a humoursome man than to gover
[...]
[...]im.
449. When fortune surprises us with the gift of some great post, which we were neither advanced to by degrees, nor prepared for by our hopes, it is almost impossible to behave ourselves well in it, and to appear worthy of it.
450. Our pride is often increased by the retrenchments we make from our other failings.
451. There are no fools so troublesome as those that have wit.
452. There is no man who believes himself in every respect inferior to the man of the world, whom he esteems the most.
453. In great affairs we ought not with so much application to seek occasions, as to make our advantage of those that offer themselves.
454. There are few occasions in which we should make a bad bargain, to renounce all the good that is said of us, on condition to have no ill said of us.
455. As much disposed as the world is to be sensorious, it oftene
[...] shows favour to false merit, than it does injustice to true.
456. A man may be a fool with wit, but never with judgment.
457. We should gain more by letting the world see us just such as we are, than by striving to appear what we are not.
458. Our enemies come nearer the truth, in the judgments they make of us, than we do, in those we make of ourselves.
[Page 114] 459. There are many remedies which cure love, but none are infallible.
460. We are far from knowing all the influence our passions have over our actions.
461. Old age is a tyrant, that forbids, on pain of death, all the pleasures of youth.
462. The same pride which makes us condemn the faults which we fancy ourselves to be free from, inclines us to despise the good qualities which we have not.
463. There is often more pride than good-nature in our conc
[...] for the misfortunes of our enemies; it is to make them sensible we are above them, that we show them any marks of compassion.
464. There is an excess of happiness and misery, that is beyond our sensibility.
465. Innocence is far from finding so much protection as guilt.
466. Of all the violent passions, that which is the least unbecoming of women, is love.
467. Vanity makes us do more things against our inclination than reason.
468. There are some great talents that are formed by bad qualities.
469. We never passionately desire the thing, which we only desire from the dictates of reason.
470. All our qualities are uncertain and doubtful, whether good or bad, and lie, almost all of them, at the mercy of opportunity.
471. Women, in their first inclinations, love the lover, but in all the rest, they love the passion.
472. Pride has its whimsies, as well as the other passions; we are ashamed to own ourselves jealous, yet value ourselves upon having been so, and upon being capable of being so.
473. As
[...] a thing as true love is, it is still less rare than true friendship.
474. There are
[...]ew women whose merit lasts longer than their beauty.
475. The greatest part of our confidence is made up of a fondness of being pitied, or of being admired.
476. Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those we envy.
477. The same constancy of mind that serves to resist love, serves also, to make it more violent and lasting; while weak people, who are always hurried with passions, are almost never truly possessed with any.
478. The imagination cannot invent so many several contrarieties as there are naturally in the heart of every man.
479. No persons, but those who have constancy, can have true sweetness of temper; those who appear to have it, have nothing but a weakness, that is easily turned into sourness.
480. Cowardice is a fault, for which it is dangerous to reprehend the persons whom we would have amend it.
481. Nothing is more rare than true good-nature; those even who fancy they have it, have, commonly, nothing but either easiness, or complaisance.
482. The mind, betwixt laziness and constancy, is fixed to what is either easy or agreeable to it; this habit always sets the bounds to
[Page 115] our enquiries, and no body ever gave himself the trouble to extend and carry his mind as far as it could go.
483. We speak ill of others, more from vanity than malice.
484. While the heart continues still moved by the
[...] of a passion, it is more inclinable to receive a new
[...] entirely cured.
485. Those that have had great passions, find themselves perpetually happy and unhappy in being cured of them.
486. There are still more people free from interest, than from envy.
487. We have more laziness in our minds than in our bodies.
488. The quiet, or the disturbance of our humour, depends not so much on the important things that happen to us in life, as on an easy or disagreeable disposition of the little things that happen every day.
489. As bad as men are, they dare not appear to be the enemies of virtue; and when they resolve to persecute it, they pretend to believe it false, or lay some crime to its charge
490. We often pass from love to ambition, but rarely return from ambition to love.
491. Extreme covetousness is almost always mistaken; there is no passion which so often misses its aim, or on which the present has so
[...] influence, to the prejudice of the future.
492. Covetousness often produces contrary effects; there are a world of people, who sacrifice their whole estates to doubtful and distant hopes; others despise great advantages that are future, for a little profit that is present.
493. Men seem to think they have not defects enough; they increase the number of them, by certain singular qualities, that they
[...] to set themselves off with; and these they cultivate with so much care, that, at length, they become natural defects, which they no longer have the power to amend.
494. The thing which makes it plain, that men are more sensible of their failings than we imagine, i
[...] this that they are never in the wrong, when we hear them talk of their conduct. The same self-love which commonly blinds them, enlightens them then, and gives them so just views of things, as make them suppress or disguise the smallest matters that are liable to be condemned.
495. Young people, who are just coming into the world, ought to be either
[...] or giddy; a solemn and pretending air, turns, commonly, into impertinence.
496. Quarrels would not last long, if the wrong were only on one side.
497. It signifies nothing to be young, without being beautiful; no
[...] to be beautiful, without being young.
498. There are some persons
[...] and trifling, that they are as
[...] having real faults, as real good qualities.
499. A woman's first intrigue is commonly never reckoned, till she has had a second.
500. There are some men so full of themselves, that, when they are in love, they entertain themselves with their own p
[...]ssion, instead of the person they make love to.
[Page 116] 501. Love, as agreeable as it is, pleases more by the ways it takes to show itself, than by any thing in itself.
502. An indifferent share of wit, with judgment, is less tiresome at long run, than a great d
[...]al of wit, with impertinence.
503. Jealousy is the greatest of all evils, yet it is the least pitied by the persons that occasion it
504. In the adversity of our best friends, we find something that doth not displease us.
505. After having spoken of the falsity of so many seeming virtues, it is but reasonable to say something of the falsity that there is in the contempt of death. I mean, that contempt of death, which the heathens boasted to derive from their own natural strength, without the hope of a better life. There is a great deal of difference between suffering death with co
[...]tancy, and contemning it. The first is common enough, but the other. I am apt to believe, is never sincere. All that is possible to be said, to persuade us that death is no evil, has been written: and some of the weakest men, as well as the heroes, have given a thousand eminent examples in confirmation of this opinion. Yet, after all, I doubt whether any person of good sense ever believed it: and the pains they are at to persuade others and themselves, discover clearly enough, that it is no easy task to do it. A man may have many reasons to be disgusted with life, but can have no reason to despise death: those even who choose a voluntary death, esteem is not so slight a matter, and are as much startled at it, and decline it as much as others, when it comes upon them in any other manner than that they have chosen themselves. The inequality that is remarkable in the courage of a world of brave men, proceeds from this, that death discovers itself in different shapes to them, and appears more present to their imagination at one time than another: so it happens, that after having despised what they did not know, they are afraid at last of what they do know▪ If we would not believe it the greatest of all evils, we must never look it in the face with all its circumstances. The wisest and bravest men are those that take the handsomest pretences to avoid the consideration of it: for all who,
[...]now what it is to see it, as it really is, find it a horrible thing. The necessity of dying, made up all the constancy of the philosophers; they thought they had best go with a good grace, since there was no help for their going; and not being able to eternize their lives, they omitted nothing to eternize their reputations and to save from shipwreck all that could be secured Let us, then, to put the best face on the matter, be contented with not discovering to ourselves, all that we think o
[...] it, and let us hope for more from our
[...], than from those weak seasonings which make us fancy we are able to approach death with indifference The glory of dying resolutely, the hope of being lamented whe
[...] gone, the desire of leaving a fair reputation behind us, the assurance of being freed from the miseries of life, and of depending no longer on the caprices of fortune, are remedies not to be rejected: but
[...] are not to be supposed infallible▪ They serve to embold
[...]n us; as in war, a poor hedge does often to embolden the soldiers that are to make their approa
[...]s to a place, from whence the enemy is
[...] firing: while they are at a distance they imagine it may be a good shelter, but when near, they find it but a slight defence. It is flattering ourselves
[Page 117] to fancy, that death, when near, will appear the same thing that we judge it when at a distance; and that our sentiments, which are but weakness itself, should be of so hardened a temper as to endure, without suffering from the blow, the severest of all proofs. Besides, it is to be but little acquainted with the effects of self-love, to think that is like to help us to consider that thing a trifle, which must necessarily be its destruction: and reason, in which we expect to find so much relief, has not the power, in this case, to make us believe that we wish to find true. It is reason, on the contrary, that
[...] betrays
[...], and which, instead of inspiring us with a contempt of death, serves to discover to us its terror and hideousness.—All that reason is able to do for us, is to advise us to avert our eyes,
[...] to fix them on some other objects. Cato and Brutus chose illustrious deaths. A lackey, sometime ago, had so little concern, as to dance upon the scaffold, where he was to be broke on the wheel. Thus though the motives be different, they produce, often, the same effects. So true it is, that what disproportion there may be between great men and the vulgar, we have seen a thousand times, both the one and other meet death with the same countenance: but it has been always with this difference, that in the contempt of death which the great men show, it is the love of glory that removes it from their sight; and in the vulgar, it is nothing but an effect of their want of understanding, that prevents their knowing the greatness of the evil, and leaves them at liberty to think of something else.
ON SELF-LOVE.
SELF-LOVE is the love of one's self, and of every thing for the sake of one's self: it makes men idolizers of themselves, and would make them tyrants to others, if fortune furnished them with the means of doing it. It never takes any rest but within itself, or dwells longer on any other objects, than bees do upon flowers, to extract what may be to its advantage Nothing is so impetuous as its desires, nothing so secret as its designs, nothing so artful as its con
[...]uct▪ In agility, it surpasses all representation; in transforming itself, it exceeds all the metamorphoses and in refining, goes beyond all the art of chymistry: there is no fathoming the depth, or piercing thro' the darkness of its abyss Here it is concealed from the most penetrating eyes, and makes a thousand insensible turnings and windings. Here it is often invisible to itself, and conceives and breeds up a vast number of inclinations and aversions unknown to itself: some of which are so monstrous, that when they are brought forth, it does not know them, or cannot be prevailed on to own them: from this obscurity, with which it is overcast, arise the ridiculous conceits that it has of itself: hence proceed the errors, ignorance, the gross and silly mistakes it entertains of itself Hence it is, that it fancies those passions dead in itself, which are only laid to sleep; that it imagines it has laid aside the desire of pursuing, when it does but rest to take breath; and thinks it has lost the appetites, which it has only satisfied for the present: and yet this obscurity, thick as it is,
[Page 118] to hide it from itself, hinders it not from seeing perfectly the things which are without itself; in which it is like our eyes, which perceive all things, and are only blind with respect to themselves. Indeed, in its greatest concerns and most important affairs, where the violence of its desires summons all its attention, it sees, and feels, and hears, and imagines, and suspects, and penetrates, and foresees every thing so well, that a man would be tempted to believe that every one of its passions was guided by a sort of magic peculiar to it. Nothing is so close and strong as its engagements, which in vain it attempts to break at the sight of great and threatening disasters. Yet sometimes it affects that in a little time, and with little pains, which it could not effect in the course of many years with all its endeavours: from whence it may probably enough be concluded, that its desires are kindled by itself, rather than by the beauty or merit of its objects; that its own palate gives them the value that enhances them, and the gloss that sets them off; that itself is the thing that it pursu
[...], and its own humour what it follows, when it follows the objects that suit its humour. It is made up of contrarieties; it is imperious and submissive, sincere and hypocritical, compassionate and cruel, timorous and audacious; it puts on different inclinations, according to the different tempers that dispose and devote it sometimes to glory, sometimes to riches, and sometimes to pleasure. All which too it changes, as our age, fortune or experience change; but as to itself, it is indifferent whether it has many, or but one: because it divides itself into many, and collects itself into one, as its pleasure or necessity requires. It is inconstant, not only from the changes produced by foreign causes; but from a thousand others, that spring from itself: it is inconstant from inconstancy, levity, love, weariness and disgust: it is whimsical, and may be observed sometimes
[...]o labour with the utmost vehemence, and with incredible pains
[...] obtain those things that are not only of no advantage, but are hurtful, which yet pursue it will, merely because it will: it is fantastical, and often sets all its application at work about the most frivolous employments; takes delight in the most insipid things, and preserves all is haughtiness in the most contemptible circumstances; it enters into all states and conditions of life; it lives in every place, it lives upon every thing; nay, it lives upon nothing: it makes itself easy, either with the enjoyment of things, or with the want of them: it takes part with the people that make
[...] upon it, engages in their desig
[...]; and, what is wonderful, joins wi
[...] them in hating itself, conspires its own destruction, and works its own ruin: in short, its whole care is to exist; and provided it does but exist, it is contented to be its own enemy. We ought not, therefore, to be surprised to see it associating itself with the most rigid austeri
[...], and entering boldly into league with its adversary to destroy itself, because at the same time that it loses in one place, it gains in another: when we think it renounces its pleasure, it only suspends or changes it; and when it is so conquered that we fancy it entirely routed, we find it triumphing in its own defeat. Behold the true picture of self-love, the whole life of which is but one great and long agitation: the sea is a very sensible image of it; the waves of which, in their flux and r
[...]flux,
[...]aithfully express the turbulent succession of its thoughts, and the eternal commotions of its mind.
[Page 119]
MAXIMS.
1. MANY people are desirous to be devout; but nobody is desirous to be humble.
2. The labour of the body frees us from the pains of the mind; and this it is which makes the poor happy.
3. Real mortifications are those which are not known; vanity makes the others easy.
4. Humility is the altar on which God would have us offer our sacrifices.
5. There are but few things wanting to make the wise man happy: nothing can make a
[...]ool content; which is the reason why almost all men are miserable.
6. We torment ourselves less to become happy, than to make it believed we are so.
7. It is easier extinguishing the first inclination we have, than gratifying all those that come after it.
8. Wisdom is to the soul, what health is to the body.
9. Since the great men of the world can neither give health of body, nor repose of mind, we constantly pay too dear for all the good they are able to do us.
10. Before we desire a thing passionately, it ought to be considered what is the happiness of the person that possesses it.
11. A true friend is the greatest of all possessio
[...]s, yet is that which we least of all are careful to acquire.
12. Lovers see not the failings of their mistresses, till their enchantment is at an end.
13. Prudence and love are not made for one another; for just as love increases, prudence decreases.
14. It is sometimes agreeable for a husband to have his wife jealous of him; he is sure to hear the thing talked of that he loves.
15. How is the poor woman to be pitied, that is at once strongly possessed with love and virtue!
16. The wise man finds his advantage in not engaging, more than in conquering.
17. It is more necessary to study men than books.
18. Happiness, or unhappiness, commonly go to them who have most of the one or the other.
19. An honest woman is a hidden treasure, which, he that finds, is in the right not to boast of.
20. When we love too passionately, we do not easily discover when we cease to be beloved.
21. We never find fault with ourselves, but with a design to be commended.
22. We are almost always uneasy with those that are uneasy with us.
23. A man is never so hard put to it to speak well, as when he is ashamed to be silent.
24. Our faults are always pardonable, when we have so much power over ourselves as to con
[...]ss them.
25. There is nothing more natural, nor more deceitful, than to believe we are beloved.
[Page 120] 26. We take more pleasure to see the persons we have done good to, th
[...]n to those that have done good to us.
27. It is harder to dissemble the sentiments we have, than to feign sentiments which we have not.
28. Friendships renewed, require more care to cultivate them, than those that have never been broken.
29. The man that is pleased with nobody, is more unhappy than the man with whom nobody is pleased.
[Page 121]
BY The Rev. JOHN CASPER LAVATER.
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,
[...]ach beholder thinks himself the centre of the sky; so Nature formed her individuals, that each must
[...] 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
[...].—Penetrate the one, and you will know the other.
6. The more complex yet uniform, the more varied yet harmonious, the medium of self-enjoyment;—the more existent and real, the more vigorious and dignified, 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, irreconcileable 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, inconstant, 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.
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 grie
[...] decide characters. What exalts prosperity? what
[...]mbitters 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
[Page 122] 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 irresistably returns:—that, at the
[...] which you may sa
[...]ely think him inconsolable;—that which he rescues from the gripe of danger with equal anxiety and boldness.
The story of the painter and the prince is well known; to get
[...] 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, 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 to 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
[...]ew 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. 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.
[...] of will is a sign of grandeur. 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 bett
[...]r, has
talents; who can produce what none else can, has
genius.
24. The acquisition of will, for one thing exclusively, presupposes entire acquaintance with many others. Search into the progress of
[Page 123] 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, folly, 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.
[...] 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,
[...], levity, and malice, produce each other.
34. Who (the ex
[...]ilerating mirth of humour excepted), gives
[...] 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
[...].
36. Who begins with severity, in judging of another, ends commonly with falsehood.
37. The smiles that encourage severity of judgment, hide
[...] and
[...].
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
[...] 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, sate, merit—the harmony of these constitutes real grandeur.
42. Search carefully into the unison and discords of a man's person,
[...]ate, and merit; and you may analyse his character so clearly, that you may almost with certainty foretel what he will be.
43. As the present character of a man, so his past, so his future. W
[...] recollects distinctly his past adventures, knows his destiny to come.
44. You can depend on no man, on no friend, but him who can
[Page 124] depend on himself. He only who acts consequently towards himself will act so towards others, and
vice versa.—Man is forever 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
Num
[...]n, 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 consequently 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 pie
[...]est, who crawls, groans, blubbers, and secretly says at gold, thou art my hope! and to his b
[...]lly, thou art my god!
[Page 125] 62. All moral dependance on him, who has been
[...] of
one act of positive cool villany, against an acknowledged,
[...] and noble character, is credulity, imbecility, or insanity.
63. The most stormy ebullitions of passion, from
[...]sphemy to murder, are less terrific than one single act of
[...]: a still
rabies is more dangerous than the paroxisms of a
[...]—Fear the boisterous savage of passion less than the sedately
[...] villian.
64. Who defends a thing demonstrated bad, and, with a contemtuous 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 m
[...]lice, 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 premeditately 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 of himself.
74. The oppressive is heard. If
[...]en, chosen from the crowd 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, a 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 show themselves in a thousand forms, speaks 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 sits.
[Page 126] 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 it 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 se
[...] 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
[...] 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
[...] a fiend, but not your nose wants 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
[...].
88. Who knows whence he comes, where he is, and whether
[...] tends, he, and he alone, is wise.
89. Decided ends are sure signs of a decided character; and
90. Va
[...]ue ends of a vague character.
91. Who makes quick use of a 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 hero at once.
93. The discovery of truth, by flow 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 flow to see the good.
96. Dread more the plunderer's friendship than the calum
[...]iator's enmity.
97. He only, who can give durability to his exertions, has genuine power and energy of mind.
98. Before thou calle
[...] a man hero or genius, investigate, whether his exertion has
[...]eatures of indebility: for all that is celestial, all genius,
[...]
[...]he offspring of immortality.
99. Who despises all that is despi
[...]able, is made to be impressed with al
[...] 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 even can be despised by the wise, is he who, with opportunities of being acquainted
[Page 127] 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 his positive; who receives his 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 within us: these avoid if you can, but examine what they say; their far-fetched criticisms will often make you attend to what
[...] 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 wi
[...]h 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, gi
[...]ing, make nearly the sum of all necessary knowledge.
Who
seeks, investigates, entreats, and asks; who
a
[...]cepts, hears,
[...]ixes 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 wha
[...]ver 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
[...]riend, or
[...]ather deserve to be his friend.
111. Who can listen without constraint whilst an important thing i
[...] 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. W
[...]o, inattentive to answers, accumulates questions, will not be informed; and who means not to be informed, asks like a fool.
118. Who
[...]tes 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 conten
[...].
120. Certain trifling flaws fit as disgracefully on a character of elegance as a ragged button on a court dress.
[Page 128] 121. Who knows not how to wait with
yes, will often be with shame reduced to say
no. Letting "
I dare n
[...]t, wait upon
I would
[...]."
122. As he 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. Who values gold above all, considers all else as trifling: who values same above all, despises all but same. The truly virtuous has an exclusive taste for virtue. A great passion has no part
[...]er.
132. The pro
[...]astinator is not only indolent and we
[...]k, 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 th
[...] world.
137. Who not only renders spontaneous justice to his rival, but with cordial pra
[...]e enumerates his merits more clearly than his competitor could himself have done—is not only one of the most perspicuous, but one of the grandest of mortals—and has superlatively pronounced his own
[...].
138. True
[...] repeats
[...]self for ever, and never repeats itself—one ever
[...] beams novelty and unity on all.
139. He who has genius and eloquence sufficient either to cover or excuse his errors, yet extenuates not, but rather accuses himself, and un
[...]quivocally 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.
[Page 129] 141. Many trifling inattentions, neglects, indiscretions—are so many unequivocal proofs of dull frigidity, hardness, or extreme egotism.
142. He who, confident of being
[...]ight,
[...] 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 precipitated 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 friends, 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 milicious unite to oppress him.
153. He must be very bad who cannot find a single friend, though he be praised, noticed, p
[...]ed.
154. Who is thoroughly bad? He that has no sense for what is thoroughly good.
155. The 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 wi
[...]h to know, and to address him, Saint of saints, pray for us!
156. The strong or weak side of a man, can never be known so soon as when you see him engaged in dispute with a weak or
[...] cious 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
[Page 130] 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 once in his life, that illuminate his character at once.
161. The manner of giving, shows 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 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 wrong-headed. I heard one day a man, who thought himself wise, produce thrice, as rules, the 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 sa
[...]d 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
[...]e chooses to appear to w
[...]t.
[Page 131] 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 unimproveably 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
[...].
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
[...]:
[...]e who always, and every where, and, as to essentials, in
[...] 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
[...]
[...]ame tim
[...] 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
[...]nd
[...] are as inconsistent as gaiety and melancholy.
185. All finery is a sign of
[...].
186. Slovenliness and indelicacy of character, commonly go hand in
[...].
187. The
[...] has no respect, either for himself or others.
188. Who makes too much or too little of himself, has a false
[...] for every thing.
189. He who has no
[...]aste for order,
[...] be often wrong in his judgments, and seldom considerate o
[...] consci
[...]tious in his actions.
190. The more honesty a man has, the
[...] affects the air of a saint▪ the affectation of sanctity, is a blotch on the face of piety.
191. There are more heroes th
[...]n sain
[...]—[heroes I call rulers over the minds and
[...] of men]—more saints than humane characters. Him, who humanises all that is within and around himself, ado
[...]e. I know but of one such tradition.
192. Who, in certain moments can
[...]rely 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
[...]ks those that are greater than himself, their greatness enjoys, and forgets his greatest qualities in there 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
[...] little, and labours to impress
[...] with his own
[...] greatness.
195. The more one speaks of himself, the less he likes to hea
[...] another talked
[...]t.
[Page 132] 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, 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 heartf
[...]lt 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 fr
[...]nd 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.
[Page 133] 220. Make friendship with none who upbraidingly scores up against 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 confering 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 inquire 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 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 attainment of some great end—the more genius is there in 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 sei
[...]es with one immediate glance: such an one never stops; his flight is that of the eagle, who like an arrow, wing
[...] the mid air, whilst his pinions appear motionless.
231. Who, (to speak with Shakespeare) lets slip the dogs of war on modest defenceless merit, and bursts out into a loud insulting 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 connoiss
[...]ur 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, he feels it his duty to restore it to his own genuine splendor. Him, who in spite of contemptuous pretenders has the
[...]oldness 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
[...] w
[...]it
[...]s, is either like a wolf in sheep's clothing, or like a
[...] in a
[...].
[Page 134] 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 slavishly submitted to follow.
237. Be certain, that he who has betrayed thee once, will betray thee again.
238. Know, 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
[...]an—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 only 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
[...]ury 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 calmly he speak pure truth for and against, he will stand the test of moral
[...] 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 honestly and nobleness of mind I wish for; but I have not yet seen the man, that 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 cully, 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 ro
[...], and after he went away blasts you—has the most indisputable title to an
[...] in hell.
247. Who finds the clearest not clear, thinks the d
[...]kest 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 else none da
[...]e to ask,
[Page 135] with noble freedom, answers as none else would answer; requests as none dares 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
[...] 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, mein, inventions, and actions, of others.
257. He who has opportunities to inspect the sacred moments of e
[...]vated 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,
[...]nutely, the actions he has done; nor the prudent, those he will do.
262. Who can act and perform as if each work or action were the first, the last, and the 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
[...]ut, 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 spee
[...]h and silence. He who understands the double art of speaking 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
[...]aults, you are displeased at finding perfections.—He gives
[...] the most perfect idea of a
[Page 136] f
[...]end, 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
[...] 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 a 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 ingenious writer, and the most accomplished statesman, cannot effect so much as the mere 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 moments of evening, from the first 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
[...]anatic.
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,
[Page 137]
[...] on the lowest degree of human nature, and is despised by
[...] 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 subtilty 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, thirty-nine 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 Bride-well—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,
[...]ain would forget the bad one.
300. Pull off your hat before him whom fortune has exaltd 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
[...]ear grumbling in his closet.
[Page 138] 306. Who will not see where he should or could, shall not
[...] when he would.
307. Be sure that every knave is a fop or a coward, when a downright honest man plants himself over against him.
308. Insolence, where there is no danger, is despondence were there is.
309. He who is led by the passionate, has three enemies to cope with during life—the contempt of the good, the tyranny of his leaders, and rankling discontent.
310. The sooner you forget your moral intuition, the weaker, the
[...] to
[...]e depended on, yourself.
311. Trust him with little who, without proofs, trusts you with everything; 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 appella
[...]ions, 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
[...] honours.
321. He who, in question 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 synonimous 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
[...], 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.
[Page 139] 331. Call him truly religious who believes in something higher more powerful, more living, 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 superstitio
[...]s 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 an mosities.
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 the point, can fluctuate with case.
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 of your bosom friend, that you have a strong breath, you do not deserve to have a friend.
348. No little man
[...]eels and forgives offences.
349. No great character cavils.
350. The convivial joys of him, whose solitude is joyless, are the fore-runners 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.
[Page 140] 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 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 an wise 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,
[Page 141] who should harmoniously unite each variety of knowledge and of powers—would he not be the most beautiful? would he not be a god?
374. Incredible are the 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
[...]ir 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 enterprise; the hero sees both, diminishes those, makes these preponderate, and conquers.
381. He loves unalterably, who keeps within the bounds of love. Who always shows somewhat le
[...]s 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 economy of words without scarci
[...]y, 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 fr
[...]ful and severe; nor the careless, who are always without elastici
[...]y—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 an idiot and knave at once.
388. The powerful, who notices the exertions of an inferior, has something of the character 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 a 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 gri
[...], all-ruling destiny will either change his rage to awe, or blast his powers to the deepest root.
392. He is not ignorant of man, who knows the value and effect
[Page 142] 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. 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 r
[...]ad 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'
[...]il,'—is the greatest, simplest, most inexhausted gift a mortal can receive from heaven: who has that, has all; and he 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 inconveniences arising from the
[...] 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 you are.
406. He who, to obtain much, will suffer little or nothing, can never be called great; and none very 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
[...]res for no one.
[Page 143] 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
[...] 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 arrays 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 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 to-morrow, if to-day I can give rectitude of heart to one pettifogging 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 all together.
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.
[Page 144] 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—widom, 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 whole one, is, of all tyrants, calumniators, and villains, the most insufferable.
447. Who asks two questions at once, will easily give answer for another; frequently commit gross blunders; and seldom adhear 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 subjects, pursues it uninterruptedly and fearless of consequences, is a diamond of an 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.
[Page 145] 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 v
[...]nity 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, is 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 multiparious, so rapid, so ever-teeming a mother is unknown to the animal kingdom; each of her experiments
[...]vokes 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 sun-beams 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, brazenfaced, is a scorpion whip of destiny—avoid him!
468. Nature bids thee not to love deformity; be content to discover and 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
[...]e 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,
[Page 146] and reveres it like an oracle—show, as to all the world, your face, but lock your heart for ever.
475. Who gives a tri
[...]le 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
[...]am, deny the stream, and give its name to the
[...]othy 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 es
[...]aly 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 aproximations 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
*
[...]o eternity.
483. Whom every book delights, which he reads, none has
[...] 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 effeminate 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 h
[...] says, with open
[...] eye, examines to the right and left, what
[...]eatures and what looks he roused.
491. Who knows the moment of ceasing, knows the moment of beginning and that of proceeding. Judge o
[...] no man's prudence, experience, or genius, till you have witnessed some of his
finali.
492. The more there is of gradation in virtue, the more drama
[...]
[Page 147] 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 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 a 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, ennobles 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 of 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—
[...]e 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,
[...] not a fervid friend, without a bitter enemy. The qualities of your friend
[...] 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, o
[...]
[Page 148] leave undone, as they please. He is one of those whole faults carry their attonement with them—whom the offended and the envious with equal astonishment applaud, and ever 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 towards reforming the public, than a crowd of noisy impot
[...] patriots.
512. If
Plus 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 s
[...]ars that never fel
[...] a wound."
*
516. He who is ever intent on great ends, has an eagle-eye for grea
[...] means, and scorns not the smallest.
517. Who attempts to cover what cannot 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 fiery courage; from
Calvin his hectic obstinacy; from
Eras
[...]us his timid prudence; hypocrisy and fanaticism from
Cromwell; from
Henry IV. his sanguine character; mysticism from
Fenelon; from
Hume his all-unhinging subtility; love of paradox and brooding suspicion from
Roussea
[...]; naivete and elegance of knavery from
Vo
[...]aire; from
Milton the extravagance of his all personifying fancy; from
Rassa
[...]lle his dryness and nearly hard precision; and from
Rubens his supernatural luxury of colour:—deduct this oppressive
exuberance
[...]om each; rectify them according to your own taste; what will be the result? your own correct, pretty flat, useful: for me,
[...] be sure, quite convenient vulgarity. And why this amongst maxims of humanity? that you may learn to know this exuberance, this leaven, 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
[Page 149] of man, who knows the ferment that raises each character, and makes it that which it should 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 each class and each individual their own peculiar fit of vice or folly; and to contract 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 co
[...]queror.
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 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 your 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 themseves entirely up to suspicion, they may be ranked amongst the truly great!
537. Some are ambitious who have no idea of true honour; they
[Page 150] 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 letters.
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 ebb of giving and receiving is the sum of human happiness, which
[...]e 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
[...] of him
[...]e 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 the human nature; and what will he
[...], who honours nature, 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, occasionally, 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 judge
[...] 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 ease another, is noble—to do it cheerfully, sublime.
555. Slow givers, give meanly, or with grandeur.
556. Neither patience or inspiration can g
[...]ve wings to a snail: you
[Page 151] 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 towards a 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 to your desire of being unobserved in your acts of virtue.
564. There are certain light characteristic momentary features of man, which, in spite of masks and all exterior mummery, represent
[...] as he is and shall be. If once, in an individual, you have discovered one ennobling feature, let him debase it, let it at all 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 trifling, for truth and error, virtue and vice, religion, superstition, infidelity: for nature, art, and works of genius and art, is truly wise just, and 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 himself into another's situation, and to adopt his point of sight.
571. Think none, and least of
[...]ll yourself, sincere or honest, if you tell the public of a man,
[...] you would not dare to tell him in good company, or face to face.
572. No communications, and no gifts, can exh
[...]t genius, or impoverish charity.
573. Few possess the art to give exactly that which done but they can give. To give directly, then, when want
[...] ri
[...]e; and to give only so, that the receivers may enjoy,
[...] collect with joy, the moment of the gift—he who can give
[...] amongst men.
574. You never saw a vulgar character
[...] stedly sensible of the value of time.
[Page 152] 575. Distrust yourself, if you fear the eye of the sincere; but he afraid neither of 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 spea
[...] 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 as much between fool and knave, as you are between right and left.
583. Young man, know, that downright decision on things which only experien
[...]e 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, and 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 yoursel
[...] and others, what is so often mistaken—the singular, the original, th
[...] extraordinary, the great, and the sublime man.
The sublime man 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 a
[...]mosphere of praise: the extraordinary is distinguished by copiousness and a wide range of energy: the original need not be very rich,
[...] that which he produces is unique, and has the exclusive stamp of individuality: the singular, as such, is placed between originality an
[...] whim, and often makes a trifle the medium of fame.
591. Forwardness nips affection in the bud.
[Page 153] 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 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 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 ha
[...] dismissed avarice, suspicion, and asperity.
600. All great minds sympathise.
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
[...] ▪ 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 rapid and 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 re-appear.
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 sullen and the gay, the
[Page 154] 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 irreconcileable, 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 refrain 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 hi
[...] 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 om
[...] 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 fingle, too much apart; let them be finely ground up with each other, and
[...] 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
[...], know that, unattended by humanity or delicacy, your obligations are but oppressions, and your services affronts.
616. Let me repeat it—He only i
[...] great, who has the habit of greatness; who after performing what none in ten thousand could accomplish, passes on, like Sampson, 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 prejudices 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
[Page 155] 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 you stock of moral knowledge—and not in vain I hope: but know, a great many rules cannot be given by him who means not 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 reflexion: 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 foible.
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 t
[...] 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
[...] affection, meet with what he deserves—a repulse; but
[...]
[...]hat moment depend on his irreconcileable enmity.
629. Roughness in friendship, is at least as disgusting as an o
[...]ensive breath from a beautiful mouth—the rough may perhaps be trutty, 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 some thing 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 show your copy to whom you please.
FINIS.
[Page]
THE TABLET OF MEMORY, COMPREHENDING AN EPITOME OF GENERAL HISTORY.
BEFORE CHRIST.
4004 THE creation of the world, and of Adam and Eve.
4003 The birth of Cain, the first who was born of a woman.
3017 Enoch translated into heaven.
2308 The old world destroyed by a deluge which continued 377 days.
2247 The tower of Babel is built about this time by Noah's posterity; upon which God miraculously confounds their language, and thus disperses them into different nations.
2234 Celestial observations are begun at Babylon, the city which first gave birth to learning and the sciences.
2138 Misraim, the son of Ham, founds the kingdom of Egypt, which lasted 1663 years, to the conquest of Cambyses.
2059 Ninus, the son of Belus, founds the kingdom of Assyria, which lasted above 1000 years.
1921 The covenant of God made with Abraham, when he leaves Haran to go into Canaan, which begins the 430 years of sojourning.
1897 The cities of Sodom and Gomorrah are destroyed for their wickedness by fire from heaven.
1856 The kingdom of Argos in Greece begins under Inachus.
1822 Memnon the Egyptian invents the letters.
1715 Prometheus first struck fire from flints.
1635 Joseph dies in Egypt, which concludes the book of Genesis, containing a period of 2369 years.
1574 Aaron born in Egypt; 1490, appointed by God first high priest of the Israelites.
1571 Moses, brother to Aaron, born in Egypt, and adopted by Pharaoh's daughter.
1556 Cocrops brings a colony of Saites from Egypt, into Attics, and begins the kingdom of Athens in Greece.
[Page 222] 1546 Scamander comes from Crete into Phrygia, and begins the kingdom of Troy.
1503 Deluge of Deucalio
[...] in Thessaly.
1493 Cadmus carried the Phoenecian letters into Greece, and built the citadel of Thebes.
1491 Moses performs a number of miracles in Egypt, and departs from that kingdom, together with 600,000 Israelites, besides children, which completed the 430 years of sojourning.
1485 The first ship that appeared in Greece brought from Egypt by Danaus, who arrived at Rhodes, and brought with him his fifty daughters.
1453 The first Olympic games celebrated at Olympia, in Greece.
1452 The Pentateuch, or five first books of Moses, are written in the land of Moab, where he died the year following, aged 110 years.
1451 The Israelites, after sojourning in the wilderness forty years, are led under Joshua into the land of Canaan, where they fix themselves, after having subdued the natives; and the period of the sabatical year commences.
1263 Argonautic expedition.
1198 The rape of Helen by Paris, which, in 1193 gave rise to the Trojan war, and siege of Troy by the Greeks, which continued ten years, when that city was taken and burned.
1048 David is sole King of Israel.
1004 The temple is solemnly dedicated by Solomon.
896 Elijah, the prophet, is translated to heaven.
894 Money first made of gold and silver at Argos.
869 The city of Carthage, in Africa, founded by queen Dido.
814 The kingdom of Macedon begins.
776 The first Olympiad begins.
753 AEra of the building of Rome in Italy by Romulus, first King of the Romans.
720 Samaria taken, after three years siege, and the kingdom of Israel overthrown by Salmanaser king of Assyria, who carried the ten tribes into captivity.
The first eclipse of the moon on record.
658 Byzantium (now Constantinople) built by a colony of Athenians.
604 By order of Necho, King of Egypt, some Phoenicians sailed from the Red Sea round Africa, and returned by the Mediterran
[...]an.
600 Thales of Miletus travels into Egypt, acquires the knowledge of geometry, astronomy, and philosophy; returns to Greece, calculates eclipses, and gives general notions of the universe, and maintains that one Supreme Intelligence regulates all its motions.
Maps, globes, and signs of the Zodiac, invented by Anaximander, the scholar of Thales.
597 Jehoiakin, king of Judah, is carried away captive by Nebuchadnezzar to Babylon.
587 The city of Jerusalem taken after a siege of 18 months.
[Page 223] 562 The first comedy at Athens acted upon a moveable scaffold.
559 Cyrus the first king of Persia.
538 The kingdom of Babylon destroyed; that city being taken by Cyrus, who, in 536, issued an edict for the return of the Jews.
534 The first tragedy acted at Athens, on a waggon, by Thespis.
526 Learning is greatly encouraged at Athens, and a public library first founded.
515 The second temple at Jerusalem is finished under Darius.
509 Tarquin the seventh and last king of the Romans is expelled; and Rome is governed by two consuls, and other republican magistrates, until the battle of Pharsalia, 461 years.
504 Sardis taken and burned by the Athenians, which gave occasion to the Persian invasion of Greece.
486 AE
[...]chylus, the Greek Poet, first gains the prize of tragedy.
481 Xerxes, king of Persia, begins his expedition against Greece.
458 Ezra is sent from Babylon to Jerusalem, with the captive Jews and the vessels of gold and silver, &c. being 70 weeks of years, or 490 years before the crucifixion of our Saviour.
454 The Romans send to Athens for Solon's laws.
451 The decem
[...]irs created at Rome, and the laws of the twelve tables, compiled and ratified.
443 Censors created at Rome.
432 Nineteen years cycle invented by Meton.
430 The history of the Old Testament finishes about this time, Malachi, the last of the prophets.
401 Retreat of 10,000 Greeks, under Xenophon.
400 Socrates, the founder of moral philosophy among the Greeks, put to death by the Athenians, who soon after repent, and erect to his memory a statue of brass.
379 Boeotian war commences in Greece, finished in 366, after the death of Epeminondas, the last of the Grecian heroes. After his death Philip, brother to the king of Macedon, who had been educated under him, privately set out for that country, seized the kingdom, and after a continual course of war, treachery, and dissimulation, put an end to the liberty of the Greeks by the battle of Cheronea.
336 Philip king of Macedon murdered, and succeeded by his son Alexander the Great.
332 Alexandria in Egypt built.
331 Alexander king of Macedon, conquers Darius king of Persia, and other nations of Asia.
323 Dies at Babylon, and his empire is divided by his generals into four kingdoms, after destroying his wives, children, brother, mother and sisters.
291 Darkness at Rome at noon day.
290 Solar Quadrants introduced at
[...].
285 Dionysius, of Alexandria, began his astronomical ae
[...]a on Monday June 26, being the first who found the solar year to consist exactly of 365 days, five hours, and 49 minutes.
284 Ptolemy Philadelphus, King of Egypt, employs seventy two
[Page 224] interpreters to translate the Old Testament into the Greek language, which is called the Septuagint.
269 The first coinage of silver at Rome.
264 The first Punic war begins, and continues 24 years. The chronology of the Arundelian marbles composed.
250 Eratosthenes first attempted to measure the earth.
242 Conic sections invented by Apollonius.
218 The second Punic war begins and continues 17 years. Hannibal passes the Alps, and defeats the Romans in several battles; but being abandoned and refused support by his countrymen, fails in the accomplishment of his purpose.
190 The first Roman army enters Asia, and from the spoils of Antiochus brings the Asiatic luxury to Rome.
170 Eighty thousand Jews massacred by Antiochus Epiphanes.
168 Perscus dectated by the Romans, which ends the Macedonian kingdom.
167 The first library erected at Rome, of books brought from Macedonia.
163 The government of Judea under the Maccabees begins, and continues 126 years.
146 Cartbage and Corinth rased to the ground by the Romans.
145 An hundred thousand inhabitants of Antioth massacred in one day by the Jews.
135 The history of the Apocrypha ends.
63 Cataline's conspiracy against the liberties of his country detected.
32 Julius Caesar makes his first expedition into Britain.
47 The battle of
[...] between Caesar and Pompey, in which the l
[...]tter is defeated.
The Alexandrian library, consisting of 400,000 valuable books, burnt by accident.
45 The war of Africa, in which Cato kills himself.
The solar year introduced by Caesar.
44 Caesar killed in the senate house, after having sought 50 pitched battles, and overturned the liberties of his country.
43 Brutus, one of the conspirators against Caesar, and chief of the republicans, being vanquished in the battle of Philippi, kills himself.
35 The battle of Actium fought, in which Mark Antony and Cleopatra are totally defeated by Octavius, nephew to Julius Caesar.
30 Alexandria taken by Octavius, and Egypt reduced to a Roman province.
27 Octavius, by a decree of the senate, obtains the title of Augustus Caesar, and an absolute exemption from the laws, and is properly the first Roman emperor.
8 The temple of Janus is shut by Augustus, as an emblem of universal peace; and JESUS CHRIST is supposed to have been born in September, or on Monday, December 25.
[Page 225]
AFTER CHRIST.
12 CHRIST disputes with the Doctors in the temple.
29—is baptized in the wilderness by Joh
[...].
33—is crucified on Friday, April 3, at three o'clock, P. M. His Resurrection on the Lord's day, April 5: His Ascension, Thursday, May 14.
36 St. Paul converted.
39 St. Matthew writes his Gospel.
Pontius Pilate kills himself.
40 The name of Christians first given at Antioch to the followers of Christ.
43 Claudius Caesar's expedition into Britain.
44 St. Mark writes his Gospel.
46 Christianity carried into Spain.
49 London is founded by the Romans: and in 363 surrounded with a wall, some parts of which are still observable.
51 Caractacus, the British king, is carried in chains to Rome.
52 The council of the Apostles at Jerusalem.
55 St. Luke writes his Gospel.
60 Christianity preached in Britain.
61 Boadicea, the British Queen, defeats the Romans; but is conquered soon after by Suetonius, governor of Britain.
62 St. Paul is sent in bonds to Rome—writes his epistles between 51 and 66.
63 The acts of the Apostles written.
Christianity is supposed to be introduced into Britian by St. Paul, or some of his disciples, about this time.
64 Rome set on fire, and burned for six days: upon which began, under Nero, the first persecution against the Christians.
67 St. Peter and St. Paul put to death.
70 Titus takes Jerusalem, which is rased to the ground, and the plough made to pass over it.
79 Herculaneum overwhelmed by an eruption of Mount Vesuvius.
85 Julius Agricola, governor of South Britain to protect the civilized Britons from the incursions of the Caledonians, builds a line of forts between the rivers Forth and Clyde; defeats the Caledonians under Galgachus on the Grampian hills; and first sails round Britain.
96 St. John the Evangelist wrote his Revelation—his Gospel in 97.
121 The Caledonians re-conquer from the Romans all the Southern parts of Scotland; upon which the emperor Adrian builds a wall between Newcastle and Carlisle; but this also proving ineffectual, Pollius Urbicus, the Roman General, about the year 144, repairs Agricola's forts, which he joins by a wall four yards thick, since called Antoninus's wall.
136 The second Jewish war ends, when they were all banished Judea.
139 Justin writes his first apology for the Christians.
140 Dublin built.
152 The emperor Antoninus Plus stops the persecution against the Christians.
211 The emperor Severus, after having conquered the Scots, and
[Page 226] pent them up by a new wall between the Forth and Clyde (since called Graham's Dyke) having also conquered the Parthians, in the east, and extended the Roman empire to its utmost bounds, dies at York.
217 The septuagint said to be found in a cask.
Church yards begin to be consecrated.
274 Silk first brought from India, and the manufactory of it introduced into Europe 551.
303 The tenth general persecution begins under Dioclesian and Galerius.
306 Constantine the great begins his reign.
308 Cardinals first instituted.
31
[...] The tenth persecution ends by an edict of Constantine, who favours the Christians, and gives full liberty to their religion.
325 The first general council at Nice, when 318 fathers attended against Arius, where was composed the famous Nicene Creed.
328 Constantine removes the seat of empire from Rome to Byzantium, which is thenceforward called Constantinople.
331 Constantine orders all the Heathen temples to be destroyed.
363 The emperor Julian, surnamed the apostate, endeavours in vain to re-build the temple of Jerusalem.
364 The Roman empire is divided into the eastern (Constantinople the capital,) and western (of which Rome continued to be the capital;) each being now under the government of different Emperors.
The Scots utterly defeated and driven out of their country by the Picts and Romans.
Marriage in Lent forbidden.
400 Bells invented by Bishop Paulinus of Nola in Campagna.
404 The kingdom of Scotland revives under Fergus II.
410 Rome taken and plundered by Alari
[...], king of the Goths.
412 The Vand Is begin their Kingdom in Spain.
420 The Kingdom of France begins upon the lower Rhine, under Pharamond.
Salique law confirmed by this monarch.
426 The Romans withdraw their troops from Britain, and never return, advising the Britons to arm in their own defence, and trust to their own valour.
432 St. Patrick began to preach in Ireland: he died 17th, March, 493 aged 122 years.
446 The Britons now left to themselves, are greatly harrassed by the Scots and Pict; upon which they once more make their complaint to the Romans, but receive no assistance from that quarter.
447 Attila (
[...]urnamed the scourge of God) with
[...] Huns, ravages the Roman empire.
449 Vortigern, King of the Britons, invites the Saxons into Britain against the Scots and Picts.
455 The Saxons having repulsed the Scots and Picts, invite over
[Page 227] more of their countrymen, and begin to establish themselves in Kent under Hengist.
476 The Western empire entirely destroyed; upon the ruins of which several new states arise in Italy and other parts, consisting of Goths, Vandals, Huns, and other barbarians; under whom literature is extinguished, and the works of the learned are destroyed.
496 Clovis King of France baptized, and Christianity begins in that kingdom.
508 Prince Arthur begins his reign over the Britons.
510 Paris becomes the capital of France.
516 The computing of time by the Christian aera is introduced by Dionysius the monk.
529 The code of Justinian, the eastern emperor, is published.
557 A terrible plague all over Europe, Asia, and Africa, which continues near 50 years.
581 Latin ceased to be spoken about this time in Italy.
600 Bells first used in churches.
606 The power of the Popes begins by the concessions of Phocas, emperor of the East.
622 Mahomet flies from Mecca to Medina in Arabia. His followers compute their time from this aera, which in Arabic is called Hegira,
i. e. the flight.
637 Jerusalem taken by the Saracens, or followers of Mahomet.
640 Alexandria in Egypt is taken by the Saracens, and the grand library there burned by order of Omar their caliph, or prince.
664 Glass invented in England by Benault, a monk.
670 Building with stone introduced into England by Bennet, a monk.
685 The Britons totally expelled by the Saxons, and driven into Wales and Cornwall.
696 Churches first begun to be built in England.
713 The Saracens conquer Spain. Their progress stoppead in France by Charles Martel, in 732.
726 The controversy about images begins, and occasions many insurrections in the eastern empire.
748 The computing of years from the birth of Christ begun to be used in history.
749 The race of Abbas become caliphs of the Saracens, and encourage learning.
761 Thirty thousand books burnt by order of the emperor Leo.
762 The city of Bagdad upon the Tigris is made the capital of the Saracen empire.
786 The surplice, a vestment of the Pagan priests, introduced into churches.
800 Charlemagne, king of France, begins the empire of Germany, afterwards called the western empire, and endeavours in vain to restore learning in Europe.
828 Egbert king of Wessex unites the Heptarchy by the name of England.
838 The Scots and Picts have a decisive battle, in which the former
[Page 228] prevail, and both kingdoms are united by Kennet, which begins the second period of the Scottish history.
The Danes with 60 ships arrived at and took Dublin.
867 The Danes begin their ravages in England.
871 Bath Springs first discovered.
886 Juries first instituted.
896 Alfred the Great, after subduing the Danish invaders, composes his body of laws; divides England into counties, hundreds, and tythings; erects county courts, and founds the University of Oxford about this time.
915 The University of Cambridge founded.
936 The Saracen empire divided into seven kingdoms, by usurpation.
940 Christianity established in Denmark.
989 Christianity established in Russia.
991 The figures in arithmetic are brought into Europe by the Saracens, from Arabia. Letters of the Alphabet were hitherto used.
996 Otho III. makes the empire of Germany elective.
999 Boleslaus the first King of Poland.
1000 Paper made of cotton rags comes into use, that of linen do. 1170.
1005 All the old churches are rebuilt about this time in a new style.
1014 On Good Friday, April 23d, the famous b
[...]ttle of Clontarf was sought, wherein the Danes were completely defeated with a loss of 11,000 men, and driven out of Ireland—but the Irish king Brian Boromy, was killed, aged 88.
1015 Children forbidden by law to be sold by their parents in England.
Priests forbidden to marry.
1017 Canute, king of Denmark, gets possession of England.
1025 Musical gamut invented.
1040 The Danes driven out of Scotland.
1041 The Saxon line restored under Edward the Confessor.
1043 The Turks become formidable, and take possession of Persia.
1065 The Turks take Jerusalem from the Saracens.
1066 The battle of Hastings fought, between Harold and William Duke of Normandy, in which Harold is conquered and slain: after which William becomes king of England.
1070 William introduces the feudal law.
1075 Henry IV, Emperor of Germany, and the Pope, quarrel about the nomination of the German bishops. Henry in penance, walks barefooted to Rome, towards the end of January.
1076 Justices of the peace first appointed in England.
1080 Doomlday book began to be compiled by order of William, from a survey of all the estates in England, and finished in 1086.
The Tower of London built by the same prince, to curb his English subjects; numbers of whom fly to Scotland, where they introduce the Saxon or English language; are protected by Malcolm, and have lands given them.
[Page 229] 1086 Kingdom of Bohemia begun.
1091 The Saracens in Spain, being hard pressed by the Spaniards, call to their assistance Joseph king of Morocco; by which the Moors get possession of all the Saracen dominions in Spain.
1096 The first Crusade to the Holy Land begun, to drive the infidels from Jerusalem.
1107 King's speech first delivered by Henry I.
1110 Edgar Atheling, the last of the Saxon princes, dies in England, where he had been permitted to reside as a subject. Learning revived in Cambridge.
1118 The order of the Knights Templars instituted to defend the S
[...]pulchre at Jerusalem, and to protect Christian strangers.
1140 King Stephen grants liberty to his nobles to build castles; in consequence of which 1100 are erected in 14 years.
1151 The canon law collected by Gratian, a monk of Bologns.
1163 London bridge, consisting of 19 small arches, first built of stone.
1164 The Teutonic order of religious knights begins in Germany.
1171 Dermot Mac Murrogh, prince of Leinster, being beaten and put to flight by other princes, induces some English adventurers to land in Ireland, and assist him in recovering his dominious: Dublin is besieged and taken by Raymend le Gross.
1172 Henry II. lands at Waterford, and soon after obtains from Richard E. Strongbow (who had married the daughter of Mac Murrogh, and according to compact, succeeded to his dominions) a surrender of Dublin; where he erects a pavilion of wicker work, and entertains several Irish princes, who,
voluntarily, submit to him, on condition of being governed by the same laws, civil and ecclesiastical, and enjoying the same liberties and immunities, as the people of England.
Henry II. landed in Ireland, with 400 knights and 5000 men.
1173 The same king grants its first charter to Dublin; and, by divers privileges, encourages a colony from Brstol to settle in it.
1174 Henry II. creates his younger son, 12 years old, king or lord of Ireland, who grants charters to the city of Dublin, and other corporations.
1180 Glass windows began to be used in private houses in England.
1182 Pope Alexander III, compelled the kings of England and France to hold the stirrups of his saddle when he mounted his horse.
1186 The great conjunction of the sun and moon and all the planets in Libra, happened in September.
1192 The battle of Ascalon, in Judea, in which Richard, king of England, defeats Saladine's army, consisting of 300,000 combatants.
Richard treacherously imprisoned in his way home by the Emperor of Germany.
[Page 230] 1194
Dieu et mon Droit, first used as a motto by Richard, on a victory over the French.
1200 Chimn
[...]es were not known in England.
Surnames now began to be use
[...] among the nobility.
1208 London incorporated, and obtained its first charter from king John.
1210 King John met in Dublin upwards of 20 Irish princes, who swore allegiance to him, and there caused them to establish the English laws and customs
[...]
Courts of Judicature first erected in Ireland.
1215 Magna Cha
[...]a is signed by king John and the barons of England; and the following year it is granted to the Irish by Henry III.
1217 The same prince grants the city of Dublin to the citizens, in fee farm at 200 marks
[...]er annum.
1227 The Tartars, a new race of barbarians, under Gingis Khan, emerge, from the northern parts of Asia, conquer the greatest part of that continent, and in 22 years destroy upwards of 14 millions of people.
1233 The inquisition, begun in 1204, is now trusted to the Dominicans.
The houses of London, and other cities in England, France, and Germany, still thatched with straw.
1252 Magnifying glass
[...]s invented by Roger Bacon.
1253 The famous astronomical tables are composed by Alonzo king of Castile.
1258 The Tartars take Bagdad, which puts an end to the empire of the
[...].
1263 Acho, king of Norway, invades Scotland with 160 sail, and lands 20000 men at the mouth of the Clyde, but most of them are cut to pieces by Alexander III. who recovers the western isles.
1264 The commons of England have a place in parliament.
1269 The Hamburgh company incorporated in England.
1273 The empire of the present Austrian family begins in Germany.
1280 Pulvis fulminans and gun powder invented by Roger Bacon.
1282 Lewellyn, prince of Wales, defeated and killed by Edward I. who
[...] that principality to England.
1284 Edward II. born at Carnarvon, is the first prince of Wales.
1285 Alexander III. king of Scotland dies, and that kingdom is disputed by twelve candidates, who submit their claims to the arbitration of Edward, king of England, which lays the foundation of a long and desolating war between the two nations.
Spectacles invented by Alexander Spin
[...], a Spanish monk.
1293 There is a regular succession of English parliaments from this year, being the 2nd. of Edward I.
1298 The present Turkish empire begins in Bythinia under Ottoman
Silver hasted knives, spoons, and cups, a great luxury.
Splinters of wood generally used for lights.
[Page 231] Wine sold by the apothecaries as a cordial.
1299 Windmills invented.
1300 About this time the mariner's compass was invented, or improved, by John Gioia, or Goya, a Neapolitan. The flower de luce, the arms of the duke of Anjou, then king of Naples, was placed by him at the point of the needle, in compliment to that prince.
1307 The beginning of the Swiss cantons.
Interest of money in England at 45
per cent.
1308 The Popes remove to Avignon in France for 70 years.
1314 The battle of Bannock burn between Edward II. and Robert Bruce, in which the English are overthrown with prodigious slaughter, and all their boasted pretensions of sovereignty are utterly dissipated.
1320 Gold first coi
[...] in Christendom.
1336 Two Braban
[...] weavers settle at York, which, says Edward III. may prove of great benefit to us and our subjects.
1337 The first comet whose course is described with astronomical exactness.
1340 Gunpowder first suggested as useful for warlike purposes by Swartz, a monk of Cologne; 13
[...]6, Edward III. had four pieces of cannon, which contributed to gain him the battle of Cressy.
Oil painting first made use of by John. Vaneck.
1344 The first creation to titles by patent used by Edward III.
1349 The order of the Garter instituted in England by Edward III.
1352 The Turks first enter Europe.
1356 The battle of Poictiers, in which king John of France, and his sons, are taken prisoners by Edward the black prince.
1357 Coals first brought to London.
1358 Arms of England and France first quartered by Edward III.
1362 The law pleadings in England changed from French to English, as a favour of Edward III to his people.
1386 A company of linen weavers from the Netherlands established in London.
1388 The battle of Otterburn between Hotspur and the earl of Douglas; on this is founded the ballad of Chevy Ch
[...]ce.
Title of Baron first given by Richard II.
1390 Co
[...]se cloth first made in England at Kendal.
1391 Cards invented in France for the king's amusement.
1399 Westminster Abbey rebuilt and enlarged.
Order of the Bath instituted at the coronation of Henry IV.
1402 Bajaze
[...] defeated by Tamerlane, and the power of the Turks almost entirely destroyed.
1404 Hats for men invented at Paris by a Swiss.
1412 Denmark united with the crown of Norway.
1415 The battle of Agincourt, gained over the French by Henry V. of England.
1416 The art of curing herrings invented by William Boekel, a Dutchman; by which he rendered an essential service to his country.
[Page 232] 1428 The siege of Orleans. The celebrated Maid of Orleans appears and gives the first blow to the English power in France. She is afterwards taken prisoner, and basely put to death.
1430 Laurentius of Haerlem invents the Art of Printing, which he practised with separate wooden types. Guttenburgh afterwards invented cut metal types. Peter Schoeffer invented the mode of casting types in matrices. But the most authentic accounts ascribe the invention of printing to Dr. Faust, or Faustus, in 1444.
1446 The Vatican Library founded at Rome
The sea broke in at Dort, and drowned 100,000 people.
1453 Constantinople taken by the Turks, which utterly overthrows the Roman empire.
1454 Otto Guerick, a German, invents the air pump.
Cape Verd Isles first seen.
Duelling appointed in certain cases in France, in order to have the judgment of God.
1460 Engravings and etchings in copper invented.
1471 Decimal arithmetic invented, and the use of tangents in trigonometry introduced, by Regiomontanus.
1473 Greek language brought into France.
1483 Richard III, King of England, and last of the Plantagenets, is defeated and killed at the battle of Bosworth, by Henry (Tudor) VII, which puts an end to the civil wars between the houses of York and Lancaster.
1485 Great numbers carried off by the sweating sickness.
1486 Henry establishes fifty yeomen of the guard, the first standing army.
1489 Maps and sea charts first brought to England by Barth. Columbus.
1491 William Grocin publicly teaches the Greek language at Oxford.
The Moors, hitherto a formidable enemy to the native Spaniards, are entirely subdued by Ferdinand, and become subjects of that Prince on certain conditions; but are cruelly persecuted by the inquisitors.
1492 America discovered by Columbus.
1494 Algebra first known in Europe.
1497 The Portuguese first sail to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope.
South America discovered by Americus Vespusius, from whom the continent unjustly takes its name.
1499 North America discovered for Henry VII. by Cabot a native of Bristol.
1500 Maximilian divides the empire of Germany into six circles. Brasil discovered by Cabral.
1503 Mines used in the attack and defence of places, invented.
1509 Gardening introduced into England from the Netherlands, from whence vegetables were imported hitherto.
1512 Florida discovered.
[Page 233] 1513 The battle of Flowden, in which James IV, of Scotland is killed, with the flower of his nobility.
1517 Martin Luther began the reformation.
Egypt conquered by the Turks.
1518 Magellan, in the service of Spain, discovers the straits which bear his name, makes the first voyage round the world, but is killed by savages in the Marianne islands.
Republic of Geneva founded.
1520 Henry VIII, for his writings in favour of Popery, receives the title of "Defender of the Faith" from the Pope.
Chocolate first brought from Mexico by the Spaniards.
1529 The name of protestant takes its rise from the reformed protesting against the church of Rome, at the diet of Spires in Germany.
1530 Copernicus revives the Pythagorean system of astronomy.
1533 Currant trees brought into England from Zante.
1537 Religious houses dissolved by Henry VIII.
1539 The first English edition of the bible authorised, the present translation finished 1611. About this time cannon began to be used in ships.
1543 Silk Stockings first worn by the French King.
Pins first used in England; before which time the ladies used skewers.
1544 Good lands let in England at one shilling per acre.
1545 The famous Council of Trent begins, and continues 18 years.
1546 Interest of money first established in England by law at ten per cent.
Ann Ascue, a Protestant, cruelly tortured by order of Henry VIII. who, to the utter disgrace of royalty, put his own hands to the rack, as not thinking the executioner sufficiently expert. She endured every thing with patience, and was afterwards burnt.
1549 Lords Lieutenants of counties instituted in England.
1550 Cherries, pears, &c. introduced into England.
1553 Circulation of the blood through the lungs first published by Michael Servetus.
1557 Groats and half groats the greatest silver coin in England.
1560 Siberia was about this time discovered, under the reign of Czar Ivan Basilides.
1563 Knives first made in England.
The 39 articles of the English faith established.
1565 Botany revived at Thuringe in Germany,
Potatoes first brought to Ireland from New Spain.
Henry Lord Dainly, husband to Queen Mary of Scotland, blown up with Gun-powder in the Provost's house at Edinburgh, about two in the morning of Feb. 11.
1569 Royal Exchange, of London, first built.
Circulation of the blood published by Cisalpinus.
Mary Queen of Scotland, driven from her kingdom by the rebellion of her subjects, flies to Queen Elizabeth for protection, by whom she is treacherously imprisoned.
1571 Printing in Irish characters first instituted.
[Page 234] 1572 The great massacre of protestants at Paris.
1573 Marby-hill in Hereford removed of itself.
1578 Apricots and artichokes introduced into England.
1579 The Dutch shake off the Spanish Yoke, and the republic of Holland begins.
English East India Company incorporated—established 1600.
English Turkey Company incorporated.
1580 Sir Francis Drake returns from his voyage round the world, being the first English circumnavigator.
1581 J. Usher, Archbishop of Armagh, born in Dublin, drew up 104 articles of religion for Ireland, 1615; which were established, 1635,—Died, 1656.
1582 Pope Gregory introduces the new style in Italy; the 5th. October being counted 15.
1583 Tobacco first brought from Virginia into England.
1587 Mary Queen of Scots is beheaded by order of Elizabeth, after 18 years imprisonment.
1588 The Spanish Armada destroyed by Drake and other English Admirals.
Henry IV, passes the edict of Nantz, tolerating the Protestants.
The manufactory of paper introduced into England at Dartford.
1589 Coaches first introduced into England.
Bombs invented at V
[...]nlo.
1591 Trinity College, Dublin, founded.
1597 Watches first brought into England from Germany.
1600 Building with brick introduced into England by the earl of Arundel, most of the houses in London being hitherto built with wood.
1602 Decimal arithmetic invented at Bruges.
1603 Queen Elizabeth (the last of the Tudors) dies, and nominates James VI. of Scotland (and first of the Stuarts) as her successor, which unites both Kingdoms under the name of Great Britain.
1605 The Gunpowder plot discovered at Westminster.
Kepler lays the foundation of the Newtonian system of attraction.
1606 Oaths of allegiance first administered in England.
1608 Galileo, of Florence, first discovers the satellites about the planet Jupiter by the telescope, then just invented in Holland.
Quebec settled by the French.
1610 Henry IV, is murdered at Paris by Ra
[...]illiac, a priest.
Virginia and Newfoundland settled by the English.
Hudson's Bay discovered by a Captain of that name, who is left by his men to perish on that desolate coast.
1611 Baronets first created in England by James I.
1614 Napier, of Marcheston, in Scotland, invents the logarithms.
Sir Hugh Middleton brings the new river to London from Ware.
The custom of powdering the hair took its rise from some
[Page 235] ballad singers at St. German's fair, who powdered themselves to look the more ridiculous.
1614 New York and New Jersey settled by the Dutch.
1618 New Holland discovered by the Dutch.
1619 Dr. W. Harvey, an Englishman, fully confirms the doctrine of the circulation of the blood.
1620 The broad silk manufactory from raw silk introduced into England.
Cape Cod, Massachusetts, discovered.
1622 Nova Scotia settled.
1623 New Hampshire settled by an English colony.
Plymouth in New England planted by a part of Mr. Robinson's congregation.
1625 The island of Barbadoes, the first English settlement in the West Indies, is planted.
1626 The barometer invented by Torricelli.
1627 The thermometer invented by Drebellius.
A colony of Swedes settled on Delaware river, Pennsylvania.
1629 Carolina planted—discovered 1497.
1630 Peruvian bark first brought to France.
1631 Newspapers first published at Paris.
Boston first settled.
1632 The battle of Lutzen, in which Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, and head of the Protestants in Germany, is killed.
1633 Maryland settled by Lord Baltimore, with a colony of Roman Catholics.
1635 Connecticut and Rhode Island settled.
1637 New Jersey, in America, settled by the Swedes.
1638 Harvard College in Cambridge, Massachusetts, established.
1640 King Charles disobliges his Scottish subjects; on which their army under General Lesley, enters England, and takes Newcastle, being encouraged by the male contents in England.
The massacre in Ireland, when 40,000 English Protestants were killed.
1642 Civil war begins in England.
1646 Episcopacy abolished in England.
Sympathetic powder made known by Sir Kenelm Digby.
1647 The first Selenographic maps made by Hevelius.
1649 Charles I. beheaded at Whitehall, January 30, aged 49.
1652 The first coffee house in London.
The speaking trumpet invented by Kirchir, a Jesuit.
1654 Cromwell assumes the Protectorship.
1655 The English, under Admiral Penn, take Jamaica from the Spaniards.
Algiers reduced by admiral Blake.
1658 Cromwell dies, and is succeeded in the Protectorship by his son Richard.
1659 Transfusion of the blood first suggested at Oxford.
1660 King Charles II. is restored by Monk, commander of the
[Page 236] army, after an exile of twelve years in France and Holland.
1660 Episcopacy restored in England and Scotland.
The people of Denmark being oppressed by the Nobles, surrender their privileges to Fred. III. who becomes absolute.
1662 The Royal Society established in London by Charles II. Pendulum clocks invented by John Fromentel, a Dutchman. Fire engines invented.
1665 The plague rages in London.
1666 The great fire of London began, Sept. 2, and continued three days, in which were destroyed 1
[...],000 houses and 400 streets.
Tea first used in England.
Academy of sciences established in France.
1667 The peace of Breda, which confirms to the English the New Netherlands, now known by the names of Pennsylvania, New York, and New Jersey.
1669 South Carolina planted by an English colony under Governor Sayle.
1670 The English Hudson's Bay Company incorporated.
1671 Academy of Architecture established in France.
1672 Lewis XIV. overruns great part of Holland, when the Dutch open their sluices, being determined to drown their country, and retire to their settlements in the East Indies.
African company established.
1673 St. Helena taken by the English.
1675 Coffee houses shut up by proclamation, as encouragers of sedition.
1676 Repeating clocks and watches invented by Barlow.
1678 The peace of Nimeguen.
The habeas corpus act passed.
1679 Darkness at London, that one could not read at noon day, January 12.
1680 A great comet appeared, and continued visible from Nov. 3, to March 9.
1681 William Penn, a Quaker, receives a charter for planting Pennsylvania.
Pennsylvania settled.
1682 College of physicians, at Edinburgh, incorporated.
Royal academy established at Nismes.
1683 India stock sold from 360 to 500
per cent.
1685 The duke of Monmouth, natural son to Charles II. raises a rebellion, but is defeated at the battle of Sedgemoor, and beheaded.
The edict of Nantz infamously revoked by Lewis XIV. and and the protestants cruelly persecuted.
1687 The palace of Versailles, near Paris, finished by Lewis XIV.
1688 The Revolution in Great Britain begins, Nov. 5. King James retires to France, December 3.
[Page 237] 1689 King William and Queen Mary, daughter and son in law to James II. are proclaimed February 16.
[...]iscount Dundee stands out for James in Scotland, but is killed after gaining the battle of Killycrankie, upon which the Highlanders disperse.
The land tax passes in England.
The toleration act passes in ditto.
1690 The battle of the Boyne, gained by William against James in Ireland, July 1.
1691 The war in Ireland finished by the surrender of Limerick to William.
1692 The English and Dutch fleets, commanded by Admiral Russel, defeated the French fleet off La Hogue.
Massacre of the Macdonalds, at Glencoe, in Scotland, (for not surrendering in time according to king William's proclamation,) said to be without the king's knowledge.
1693 Bayonets at the end of loaded muskets first used by the French.
The duchy of Hanover made the ninth electorate.
Bank of England established by king William.
The first public lottery was drawn this year.
Stamp duties instituted in England.
1695 Bank of Scotland established.
1696 The peace of Ryswick.
1697 Malt tax established.
1699 The Scots settled a colony at the isthmus of Darien, in America; and called it Caledonia.
1700 Charles XII, of Sweden, begins his reign.
Yale College established at Saybrook, Connecticut—removed to Newhaven 1716.
1701 Prussia erected into a kingdom.
Cottonian library settled for public benefit.
Society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts established.
1702 King William dies, aged 50, and is succeeded by Queen Anne, daughter to James II, who, with the emperor and States General, renews the war against France and Spain.
1704 Gibraltar taken from the Spaniards by Admiral Rooke
The battle of Blenheim, won by the Duke of Marlborough and Allies against the French.
The court of Exchequer instituted in England.
Prussian blue discovered at Berlin.
1706 The Treaty of Union betwixt England and Scotland, signed June 22.
1707 The first
British Parliament.
1708 Minorca taken from the Spaniards by General Stanhope.
The battle of Oudenarde won by Marlborough and the allies.
Sardinia erected into a kingdom, and given to the Duke of Savoy.
1709 Peter the Great, Czar of Muscovy, defeats Charles XII, at Pultowa, who flies to Turkey.
[Page 238] 1710 Queen Anne changes the Whig Ministry for others more favourable to the interest of her brother, the late Pretender.
The cathedral church of St. Paul, London, rebuilt by Sir Christopher Wren, in 37 years, at one million of expense, by a duty on coals.
The English South Sea Company began.
1713 The peace of Utrecht, whereby Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, New Britain, and Hudson's Bay, in North America, were yielded to Great Britain; Gibraltar and Minorca, in Europe, were also confirmed to the said crown by this treaty.
1714 Queen Anne dies, at the age of 49, and is succeeded by George I.
Interest reduced to 5 per cent. in England.
1715 Lewis XIV. dies, and is succeeded by his great grand son Lewis XV.
The rebellion in Scotland begins in September, under the Earl of Mar, in favour of the Pretender. The action of Sheriffmuir, and the surrender of Preston, both in November, when the rebels disperse.
1716 Aurora Borealis first taken notice of in England—1719 in New England.
The Pretender married to the princess Sobieski, grand daughter to John Sobieski, late king of Poland.
An act passed for septennial parliaments.
1719 The Mississipi scheme at its height in France.
Lombe's silk throwing machine, containing 26,526 wheels, erected at Derby; takes up one eighth of a mile; one water wheel moves the rest; and in 24 hours it works 318,504.960 yards of organzine silk thread.
The South Sea scheme in England began April 7, was at its height at the end of June, and quite sunk about September 29.
1724 Boston (Mass.) Episcopal Charitable Society established, and incorporated, 1
[...]th. Feb. 1784.
1727 King George I. dies, in the 68th year of his age, and is succeeded by his only son, George II.
Inoculation first tried on criminals with success.
Russia, formerly a dukedom, is now established as an empire.
1728 North Carolina settled about this time.
1729 The Irish Parliament sat at the Blue Coat Hospital, Dublin, where an attempt was made to obtain the supplies for 21 years; but rejected by a majority of one.
1731 The first person executed in Britain for forgery.
1732 GEORGE WASHINGTON, THE FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY, AND THE FRIEND OF MAN, WAS BORN IN VIRGINIA.
Georgia settled by Gen. Oglethorpe.
Kouli Khan usurps the Persion throne, conquers the Mogul empire, and returns with 231 millions sterling.
1734 Forgery first punished in England with death.
[Page 239] 1736 Captain Porteus, having ordered his soldiers to fire upon the populace, at the execution of a smuggler, is himself hanged by the mob at Edinburgh.
1737 The earth proved to be flatted towards the poles.
1738 June 4. King George III. of Great Britain, born.
Westminster Bridge, consisting of 15 arches, began; finished in 1750, at the expence of 389,0001 desrayed by Parliament.
Nassau Hall, or Princeton College in New Jersey, founded.
1739 Letters of marque issued out in Britain against Spain, July 21, and war declared October 23.
1740 The first ship with Irish coals arrived at Dublin from Newry.
1743 The battle of Dettingen won by the English and Allies, in favour of the queen of Hungary.
1744 War declared against France.
Commodore Anson returns from his voyage round the world.
1745 The rebellion breaks out in Scotland, and the Pretender's army defeated by the duke of Cumberland, at Culloden, April 16, 1746.
1746 British Linen Company erected.
Electric shock discovered.
Lima and Callao swallowed up by an earthquake.
1747 Dec. 23 Boston, Massachusetts, sustained a loss by fire of its court-house and records.
1748 The peace of Aix lx Chapelle, by which a restitution of all places taken during the war was to be made on all sides.
Halifax, in Nova Scotia, built.
1749 The interest of the British funds reduced to three per cent.
British herring fishery incorporated.
Dublin Society incorporated by charter.
1751 Antiquarian Society at London incorporated.
Charleston, S. C infested with worms.
1752 The new style introduced into Great Britain; the third of September being counted the fourteenth.
Identity of electric fire and lightning discovered by Dr. Franklin, who thereupon invented a method of securing buildings from thunder storms.
Marine Society, Newport, R. I. instituted.
1753 The British Museum erected at Montague House.
Society of Arts, Manufactures and Commere, instituted in London.
Sept. 15, Charleston, S. C. destroyed by a hurricane.
1754 Columbia, (formerly king's) College, N. York, first founded.
1755 Lisbon destroyed by an earthquake.
1756 One hundred and forty six Englishmen are confined in the black hole at Calcutta, in the East Indies, by order of the Nabob, and 123 found dead next morning.
Marine Society established at London.
1757 Jan 5. Damien attempted to assassinate the French king.
1758 July 4, Savannah, state of Georgia, damaged by fire.
Williamsburgh, S. C. destroyed by a hurricane.
[Page 240] 1759 General Wolfe is killed in the battle of Quebec, which is gained by the English.
1760 Black Friar's Bridge, consisting of nine arches, begun; finished 1770, at the expence of 152,8401. to be discharged by a toll. George II. dies, and is succeeded by George III.
March 20, Boston, (Mass.) sustained a loss by fire of 100,0001. again in 1761, 64, and 1775; and again, April 20, 1787, 100 houses burnt.
1761 Charlestown, (Mass.) greatly damaged by a storm.
Bourbon family compact took place.
1762 War declared against Spain.
Peter III. Emperor of Russia, is deposed, imprisoned, and murdered.
American Philosophical Society established in Philadelphia.
August 11. Charleston, S. C. greatly damaged by an explosion of gun-powder.
1763 The definitive treaty of peace between Great Britain, France, Spain, and Portugal, concluded at Paris, February 10, which confirmed to Great Britain the extensive provinces of Canada, East and West Florida, and part of Louisiana, in North America; also the islands of Grenada, St. Vincent, Dominica, and Tobago, in the West Indies
1764 The parliament granted 10,0001. to Mr. Harrison, for his discovery of the longitude by his time piece.
Rhode-Island College, Providence, founded.
1765 George III's royal charter passed for incorporating the society of artists.
The famous stamp act passed in the British parliament, March 22. Repealed March 18, 1766.
Grand canal adjoining the city bason, Dublin, begun; completed to Monastereven in 1786.
1766 A great spot passed the sun's centre.
Gibraltar almost destroyed by a storm.
1768 Academy of painting established in London.
The Turks imprison the Russian Ambassador, and declare war against that empire.
Duration of Irish parliaments limited to eight years.
1769 Electricity of the aurora borealis discovered by Wideburg at Jena.
1770 Massacre at Boston, March 5.
Dartmouth University, New Hampshire, founded by the Rev. Eleazer Wheelock.
1771 Dr. Solander and Mr. Banks, in his Majesty's ship the Endeavour, Lieutenant Cook, return from a voyage round the world, having made several important discoveries.
1772 The king of Sweden changes the constitution of that kingdom.
A dreadful fire at Antigua.
Twelve hundred and forty people killed in the island of Java, by an electrified cloud.
A revolution in Denmark.
[Page 241] 1772 The emperor of Germany, empress of Russia, and the king of Prussia, strip the king of Poland of great part of his dominions, which they divide among themselves, in violation of the most solemn treaties.
1773 Capt. Phipps is sent to explore the north pole; but having made eighty one degrees, is in danger of being locked up by the ice, returns.
The Jesuits expelled from the Pope's dominions, and suppressed by his bull.
The English East India Company having, by conquest or treaty, acquired the extensive provinces of Bengal, Orixa, and Bahar, containing fifteen millions of inhabitants, great irregularities are committed by their servants abroad, upon which the British government interferes, and sends out judges, &c.
The war between the Russians and Turks proves disgraceful to the latter, who lose the islands in the Archipelago, and by sea are every where unsuccessful.
Tea, 340 chests, destroyed at Boston.
Dec. 29. The governor's house burnt at New York.
1774 Peace proclaimed between the Russians and Turks.
The British parliament having passed an act, laying a duty of three pence per pound upon all teas imported into America; the colonies, considering this as a grievance, deny the right of the British parliament to tax them.
Boston port bill passed March 25.
Deputies from the several American colonies meet at Philadelphia, as the first general congress, October 26.
First petition of Congress to the King, November.
1775 April 19. The first action happens in America between the British troops and the Americans at Lexington.
Ticonderoga and Crown Point taken by Colonels Allen and Easton.
A dreadful fire in Grenada; loss computed at 500,0001.
Paper money issued by Congress.
May 20. Articles of confederation and perpetual union are agreed on between the American colonies.
June 17, A bloody action at Bunker's Hill between the British troops and the Americans, in which the brave General Warren was slain.
Charlestown, Masschusetts, burnt.
Battle of Quebec, where fell the brave Montgomery, December 31st.
1776 Jan. 1. Norfolk and Portsmouth in Virginia, destroyed by the British.
March 17. The town of Boston evacuated by the king's troops.
An unsuccessful attempt in July, made by Commodore Sir Peter Parker and Lieutenant General Clinton, upon Charleston in South Carolina.
Order for calling in all the light gold, in Great Britain and Ireland, and ordering it for the future to pass only by weight.
[Page 242] 1776 Congress declare the American colonies free and independent States, July 4.
The Americans retreat from Long Island, in August, after a bloody battle, and the city of New York is afterwards taken possession of by the king's troops.
Torture abolished in Poland.
Nov. 16. Fort Washington taken.
18. Fort Lee taken.
20. Great part of the city of New York burnt.
30. Battle of White Plains.
Dec. 6. Newport, R. I taken
[...]y the British.
December 25, General Washington takes 900 of the Hessians prisoners at Trenton.
Capt. COOK first circumnavigated the globe.
Austria granted toleration of religious faith, and abolished torture.
1777 Battle of Brandywine.
Jan. 2. The British defeated at Princeton with the loss of 300 prisoners. On the side of the Americans the brave general Mercer was slain.
General Howe takes possession of Philadelphia, September.
Oct. 4. Battle of Germantown.
15. Esopus on North River, burnt by the British.
Lieutenant General Burgoyne is obliged to surrender his army, consisting of 5752 men to the American Generals Gates and Arnold, October 17.
Oct. 21. Battle of Red Bank.
1778 Jan. 15. Charleston, S. C. sustained a loss by fire, in 250 dwelling, besides out-houses to the amount of 100,0001, sterling.
A treaty of alliance concluded at Paris between the French King and the Thirteen United American States, in which their Independence is acknowledged by the Court of France, February 6.
The earl of Carlisle, William Eden,
Esq: and George Johnstone,
Esq arrived at Philadelphia the beginning of June, as commissioners for restoring peace between Great Britain and America.
The remains of the earl of Chatham interred at the public expence in Westminster Abbey, June 9, in consequence of a vote of parliament.
Philadelphia evacuated by the king's troops, June 18.
Battle at Monmouth.
The Congress refuse to treat with the British commissioners.
Aug. 7. New York, an accidental fire destroys 300 houses.
Dominica taken by the French, September 7.
Pondicherry surrenders to the arms of Great Britain, October 17.
St. Lucia taken by the French, December 28.
1779 St. Vincent taken by the French.
May. Suffolk, Virginia, destroyed by the British.
Grenada taken by the French, July 3.
[Page 243] 1779 Battle at Stony Point, July 18.
October 1
[...]. Both houses of the Irish parliament address the king for a free trade.
Nov. 16. Massachusett's Charitable Society instituted.
The Spaniards join with the French and Americans against Great Britain.
1780 Torture in courts of justice abolished in France.
The inquisition abolished in the Duke of Modena's dominions.
Admiral Rodney takes twenty two sail of Spanish ships, Jan. 8.
Jan. 15. Woollen goods first exported from Ireland, to a foreign market.
The Admiral also engages a Spanish fleet under the command of Don Juan de Langara, near Cape St. Vincent, and takes five ships of the line, one more driven on shore, and another blown up, Jan. 16.
Three actions between Admiral Rodney and the Count de Guichen, in the West-Indies, in the month of April and May; but none of them decisive.
Charleston, South Carolina, surrenders to Sir Henry Clinton, May 4.
Pensacola, and the whole province of West Florida, surrender to the arms of the king of Spain, May 9.
The Protestant Association, to the number of 50,000, go up to the House of Commons with their petition for the repeal of an act passed in favour of the Catholics.
That event followed by the most daring riots in the cities of London and South wark, for several successive days, in which some Popish chapels are destroyed, together with the prisons of Newgate, the King's Bench, the Fleet, several private houses, &c. These alarming riots are at length suppressed by the interposition of the military, and many of the rioters tried and executed for felony.
May 23. Dark day in Massachusetts.
July 10. Six thousand troops under the command of Count Rochambeau arrive at Rhode Island.
Five English East Indiamen, and fifty English merchant ships bound for the West Indies, taken by the combined fleets of France and Spain, August 8.
Earl Cornwallis obtains a victory over general Gates, near Cambden, in South Carolina, August 16.
Arnold, the infamous traitor, deserts the service of his country, escapes to New-York, and is made a Brigadier General in the British service, September 24.
Major Andre, Adjutant General to the British army, hanged as a spy at Tappan, in the State of New-York, October 2.
Henry Laurens,
Esq is committed prisoner to the Tower in London, on a charge of high treason, October 4.
Dreadful hurricanes in the West Indies, by which great devastation is made in Jamaica, Barbadoes, St. Lucia Dominica, and other islands, October 3, and 10.
[Page 244] 1780 American Academy of Arts and Sciences instituted in Massachusetts.
December 14. Charleston, S. C. evacuated by the British.
A declaration of hostilities, by Great Britain, published against Holland, December 20.
First Irish State Lottery drawn.
The winter of 1780—81, remarkable for its uncommon severity, so that, in January, 1781, the passage between New York and Staten Island was practicable for the heaviest cannon.
1781 Jan. 17. The British under Colonel Tarleton defeated by General Morgan at the Cowpens.
The Dutch island of St. Eustatia taken by Admiral Rodney and General Vaughan, February 3. Retaken by the French, November 27.
March 15. Battle of Guildford Court House.
The island of Tobago taken by the French, June 2.
A bloody engagement fought between an English Squadron under the command of Admiral Parker, and a Dutch Squadron under the command of Admiral Zoutman, off the Dogger Bank, August 5.
The Marquis La Fayette, at the head of 2000 light infantry, performs important services in Virginia.
September 9. The battle of Eutaw-springs.
13. New London burnt by Traitor Arnold.
Earl Cornwallis, with the British army under his command, surrendered prisoners of war to the American and French troops, under the command of General Washington and Count Rochambeau, at Yorktown, in Virginia, Oct. 19, which decided the contest in favour of America.
Continental paper money ceased to circulate.
November 1. Massachusett's Medical Society incorporated.
1782 Trincomale, on the island of Ceylon, taken by Admiral Hughes, Jan. 11.
Minorca surrendered to the arms of the King of Spain, Feb. 5.
The island of St. Christopher taken by the French, Feb. 12.
The island of Nevis, in the West Indies, taken by the French, Feb. 14.
Montserrat taken by the French, Feb. 22.
The British House of Commons address the King against any farther prosecution of offensive war on the continent of North America, March 4; and resolve, that the House would consider all those as enemies to his Majesty and G. Britain, who should advise, or by any means attempt, the further prosecution of offensive war on the continent of North America, for the purpose of reducing the revolted colonies to obedience by force.
Admiral Rodney obtains a victory over the French fleet under the command of Count de Grasse, whom he takes prisoner, near Dominica, in the West Indies.
[Page 245] 1782 April 16. The Parliament of Ireland asserted its independence and constitutional rights.
The bill to repeal the declaratory act of George I, relative to the legislation of Ireland, received the royal assent, June 20.
The first great Dungannon Meeting of Delegates from the Irish Ulster Volunteers, held February 15.
April 19. Holland acknowledges the Sovereignty of the United States of America.
Washington College, Kent Co. Maryland instituted.
May 5. Sir Guy Carleton (since created Lord Dorchester) arrives at New York with powers to treat of peace with the United States of America.
The French took and destroyed the forts and settlements in Hudson's Bay, August 84.
The Spaniards defeated in their grand attack on Gibraltar, September 13.
Treaty concluded between the Republic of Holland and the United States of America. October 8.
Provisional articles of peace signed at Paris between the British and American commissioners, by which the United American Colonies are acknowledged by his Britannic Majesty to be free
[...] and independent states, Nov. 30.
1783 Preliminary articles of peace between his Britannic Majesty and the Kings of France and Spain, signed at Versailles, Jan. 20.
Three earthquakes at Calabria Ulterior and Sicily, destroying a great number of towns and inhabitants, Feb. 5, 7, and 28.
Armistice between Great Britain and Holland, Feb. 10.
Ratification of the difinitive treaty of peace between Great Britain, France, Spain, and the United States of America, Sept. 3.
The fire balloon invented by M. Montgolfier of Lyons; from which discovery Messrs. Charles and Robert of Paris taking the hint, construct inflammable gas, or the air balloon.
Courts of justice in England and Ireland separated by a British act of Parliament.
The bank of Ireland, established by act of Parliament, opened 25th June.
Nov. 3. American army disbanded.
A convention of representatives from all the Volunteer Corps of Ireland held in the Rotunda, Dublin, for promoting a Parliamentary Reform, 10th Nov.
Nov. 25. The British evacuate New York.
1784 The city of London wait on the King with an address of thanks for dismissing the coalition ministry, Jan. 16.
The Great Seal stolen from the Lord Chancellor's house in Great Ormond-street, March 24.
The difinitive treaty of peace between Great Britain and Holland, May 24.
[Page 246] 1784 May 26. Commemoration of Handel, the first performed in Westminster Abbey, London, by 600 performers.
Printing re-established at Constantinople after being abolished 44 years.
Slave trade abolished in Pennsylvania.
Massachusetts' Bank in Boston, incorporated; its capital 400,000 dollars, the number of shares 800.
St. John's College, Annapolis, in Maryland, instituted.
Mr. Lunardi ascended in an air balloon from the Artillery Ground, Moorfields; the first attempt of the kind in England, September 15.
1785 A congress of representatives from the counties of Ireland held in Dublin, for promoting a parliamentary reform, January 20.
Philadelphia Society for promoting Agriculture instituted.
1786 Commissioners from several of the United States assembled at Annapolis, Maryland, to consult what measures should be taken to unite the States in some general and efficient system.
Insurrection in Massachusetts.
Charles river bridge completed, connecting Boston and Charlestown, at the expence of 15,0001.
The king of Sweden prohibited the use of torture in his kingdom.
1787 The articles of Confederation, originally entered into by the United States, being found essentially defective, a general convention of Delegates from all the States, except Rhode Island, was held at Philadelphia, this Summer, with George Washington,
Esq. at their head, for the purpose of framing a general plan of government for the United States; and after four months deliberation, fixed on our present excellent constitution, which has since been ratified by all the States, in the following order,
- Delaware, 3d. December, 1787.
- Pennsylvania, 13th. December, 1787.
- New Jersey, 19th. December, 1787.
- Georgia, 2d. January, 1788.
- Connecticut, 9th. January, 1788.
- Massachusetts, 6th. February.
- Maryland, 28th. April.
- South Carolina, 23d. May.
- New Hampshire, 21st. June.
- Virginia, 25th. June.
- New York, 26th. July.
- North Carolina, 27th. November, 1789.
- Rhode Island, 29th. May, 1790.
- Vermont, 10th. January, 1791.
- Kentucky, 1st. June, 1792.
March 21. Botany Bay settlement first sailed from England.
Nov. 19. Massachusetts' Society for propagating the gospel among the Indians incorporated.
[Page 247] 1788 George Washington was unanimously elected President of the United States, and John Adams, Vice President.
1789 Congress met at New York for the first time under the new Constitution, March 4.
April 30. George Washington was, in due form, publicly invested with the Office of President of the United States of America.
July 14. Revolution in France—capture of the Bastile.
Providence, R. I. Society for the Abolition of Slavery, instituted.
1790 Grand French Confederation in the Champ de Mars.
1791 Seven islands discovered in the South Pacific Ocean, between the Marquesas and the Equator, by Capt. Joseph Ingraham, of Boston.
Boston Humane Society incorporated.
February 25. Bank of the United States of America incorporated by act of Congress for 20 years; the amount of the capital, ten millions of dollars; the number of shares twenty-five thousand; and the amount of the property which the corporation may, at any time possess, fifteen millions of dollars.
Boston Historical Society established for the purpose of improving the History of America.
March. Bank of New York incorporated; the capital 950,000 dollars; the number of shares 1900.
1792 A bridge was built over Merrimack river between Newbury and Salisbury, state of Massachusetts.
August. The Marquis la Fayette, General of the armies of France, who was the friend, and had served in the army of the United States, was a promoter of the French Revolution, and firmly attached to the new constitution of his country, accused of treason, and a price being set on his head, he quitted the army, and kingdom of France, with 1
[...] officers of rank; who were all taken prisoners by the Prussians, and the Marquis is now in close confinement in the castle of Magdeburgh, once the residence of the celebrated Trenck.
Insurance Company of North America instituted—their object is the insuring of vessels, and other property by sea or land.
August 10. Abolition of Royalty in France, and the Aristocratic Plot discovered.
Massachusetts' Agricultural Society incorporated.
Bank of New Hampshire incorporated for the term of 50 years; capital 60,000 dollars.
Union Bank, Boston, incorporated; its capital 800,000 dollars; the number of shares 100,000.
1793 January, Trial of Louis XVIth, King of France, commenced. The National Assembly, consisting of 745 members, of whom, 25 being absent and the opinions of those present, taken, it was decreed by 480 (forming a majority)
[Page 248] that the execution should take place, without any appeal nominal to the people—the remaining number voted for punishment under various restrictions—Agreeably to the voice of the majority, he was beheaded the 21st January.
1793 February 5. Declaration of war, against the Combined Powers of Great Britain, Holland, &c. issued by the National Assembly of France.
March 30th. Bank of Pennsylvania incorporated; the capital two millions of dollars, and the number of shares 5,000.
April. The President of the United States, issued his Proclamation, for the purposes of enjoining an impartial conduct on the part of the United States towards the belligerent powers, and of observing a strict neutrality.
New York Society for the promotion of Agriculture, Arts and Manufactures instituted.
June. William's College, William's town, Massachusetts, incorporated—Col. Ephraim Williams bequeathed a handsome donation towards its support; and, in honour of so considerable a benefactor bears his name.
August 3. A malignant Fever, alarming and fatal, said to be the Yellow Fever, commenced its ravages in the city of Philadelphia, by which it
[...] computed that about 5,000 individuals had perished.
Nov. 16. The Queen of France, beheaded.