Contents
|
Friday, July 2, 1714 |
Addison |
It is a hard and nice Subject for a Man to speak of himself, says
Cowley
;
it grates his own Heart to say anything of Disparagement,
and the Reader's Ears to hear any thing of Praise from him.
Let the
Tenour of his Discourse be what it will upon this Subject, it generally
proceeds from
Vanity.
An ostentatious Man will rather relate a Blunder
or an Absurdity he has committed, than be debarred from talking of his
own dear Person.
Some very great Writers have been guilty of this Fault. It is observed
of
Tully
in particular, that his Works run very much in the First
Person, and that he takes all Occasions of doing himself Justice.
'Does he think, says Brutus, that his Consulship deserves more
Applause than my putting Cæsar to Death, because I am not
perpetually talking of the Ides of March, as he is of the Nones of
December?'
I need not acquaint my learned Reader, that in the Ides of
March,
Brutus
destroyed
Caesar
, and that
Cicero
quashed the Conspiracy of
Cataline
in the Calends of
December
. How shocking soever this great
Man's talking of himself might have been to his Contemporaries, I must
confess I am never better pleased than when he is on this Subject. Such
Openings of the Heart give a Man a thorough Insight into his Personal
Character, and illustrate several Passages in the History of his Life:
Besides that, there is some little Pleasure in discovering the Infirmity
of a great Man, and seeing how the Opinion he has of himself agrees with
what the World entertains of him.
The Gentlemen of
Port-Royal
, who were more eminent for their Learning
and their Humility than any other in
France
, banish'd the way of
speaking in the First Person out of all their Works, as arising from
Vain-Glory and Self-Conceit. To shew their particular Aversion to it,
they branded this Form of Writing with the Name of an
Egotism
; a
Figure not to be found among the ancient Rhetoricians.
The most violent Egotism which I have met with in the Course of my
Reading, is that of Cardinal
Wolsey, Ego et Rex meus, I and my King
;
as perhaps the most eminent Egotist that ever appeared in the World, was
Montagne
the Author of the celebrated Essays. This lively old
Gascon
has woven all his bodily Infirmities into his Works, and after having
spoken of the Faults or Virtues of any other Man, immediately publishes
to the World how it stands with himself in that Particular. Had he kept
his own Counsel he might have passed for a much better Man, though
perhaps he would not have been so diverting an Author. The Title of an
Essay promises perhaps a Discourse upon
Virgil
or
Julius Cæsar
; but
when you look into it, you are sure to meet with more upon Monsieur
Montagne
, than of either of them. The younger
Scaliger
, who seems to
have been no great Friend to this Author, after having acquainted the
World that his Father sold Herrings, adds these Words;
La grande
fadaise de Montague, qui a escrit, qu'il aimoit mieux le vin blanc—que
diable a-t-on a faire de scavoir ce qu'il aime? For my Part, says
Montague, I am a great Lover of your White Wines—What the Devil
signifies it to the Publick, says Scaliger, whether he is a Lover of
White Wines or of Red Wines?
I cannot here forbear mentioning a Tribe of Egotists for whom I have
always had a mortal Aversion, I mean the Authors of Memoirs, who are
never mentioned in any Works but their own, and who raise all their
Productions out of this single Figure of Speech.
Most of our modern Prefaces savour very strongly of the Egotism. Every
insignificant Author fancies it of Importance to the World, to know that
he writ his Book in the Country, that he did it to pass away some of his
idle Hours, that it was published at the Importunity of Friends, or that
his natural Temper, Studies or Conversations, directed him to the Choice
of his Subject.
—Id populus curat scilicet.
Such Informations cannot but be highly improving to the Reader.
In Works of Humour, especially when a Man writes under a fictitious
Personage, the talking of one's self may give some Diversion to the
Publick; but I would advise every other Writer never to speak of
himself, unless there be something very considerable in his Character:
Tho' I am sensible this Rule will be of little Use in the World, because
there is no Man who fancies his Thoughts worth publishing, that does not
look upon himself as a considerable Person.
I shall close this Paper with a Remark upon such as are Egotists in
Conversation: These are generally the vain or shallow part of Mankind,
People being naturally full of themselves when they have nothing else in
them. There is one kind of Egotists which is very common in the World,
tho' I do not remember that any Writer has taken Notice of them; I mean
those empty conceited Fellows, who repeat as Sayings of their own, or
some of their particular Friends, several Jests which were made before
they were born, and which every one who has conversed in the World has
heard a hundred times over. A forward young Fellow of my Acquaintance
was very guilty of this Absurdity: He would be always laying a new Scene
for some old Piece of Wit, and telling us, That as he and
Jack
such-a-one were together, one or t'other of them had such a Conceit on
such an Occasion; upon which he would laugh very heartily, and wonder
the Company did not join with him. When his Mirth was over, I have often
reprehended him out of
Terence, Tuumne, obsecro te, hoc dictum erat?
vetus credidi
. But finding him still incorrigible, and having a
Kindness for the young Coxcomb, who was otherwise a good-natured Fellow,
I recommended to his Perusal the
Oxford
and
Cambridge
Jests, with
several little Pieces of Pleasantry of the same Nature. Upon the reading
of them, he was under no small Confusion to find that all his Jokes had
passed through several Editions, and that what he thought was a new
Conceit, and had appropriated to his own Use, had appeared in Print
before he or his ingenious Friends were ever heard of. This had so good
an Effect upon him, that he is content at present to pass for a Man of
plain Sense in his ordinary Conversation, and is never facetious but
when he knows his Company.
Footnote 1:
Essay 2.
Contents
I shall entertain my Reader with two very curious Letters. The first of
them comes from a chimerical Person, who I believe never writ to any
Body before.
Sir ,
'I am descended from the Ancient Family of the
Blanks, a Name well
known among all Men of Business. It is always read in those little
white Spaces of Writing which want to be filled up, and which for that
Reason are called
blank Spaces, as of right appertaining to our
Family: For I consider my self as the Lord of a Mannor, who lays his
Claim to all Wastes or Spots of Ground that are unappropriated. I am a
near Kinsman to
John a Styles and
John a Nokes; and they, I am
told, came in with the Conquerour. I am mentioned oftner in both
Houses of Parliament than any other Person in Great Britain. My Name
is written, or more properly speaking, not written, thus, . I am one that can turn my Hand to every thing, and appear under
any Shape whatsoever. I can make my self Man, Woman, or Child. I am
sometimes metamorphosed into a Year of our Lord, a Day of the Month,
or an Hour of the Day. I very often represent a Sum of Mony, and am
generally the first Subsidy that is granted to the Crown. I have now
and then supplied the Place of several Thousands of Land Soldiers, and
have as frequently been employed in the Sea Service.
'Now,
Sir , my Complaint is this, that I am only made use of to serve a
Turn, being always discarded as soon as a proper Person is found out
to fill up my Place.
'If you have ever been in the Play-house before the Curtain rises, you
see most of the Front Boxes filled with Men of my Family, who
forthwith turn out and resign their Stations upon the Appearance of
those for whom they are retained.
'But the most illustrious Branch of the
Blanks are those who are
planted in high Posts, till such time as Persons of greater
Consequence can be found out to supply them. One of these
Blanks is
equally qualified for all Offices; he can serve in time of Need for a
Soldier, a Politician, a Lawyer, or what you please. I have known in
my Time many a Brother
Blank that has been born under a lucky
Planet, heap up great Riches, and swell into a Man of Figure and
Importance, before the Grandees of his Party could agree among
themselves which of them should step into his Place. Nay, I have known
a
Blank continue so long in one of these vacant Posts, (for such it
is to be reckoned all the Time a
Blank is in it) that he has grown
too formidable and dangerous to be removed.
'But to return to my self, since I am so very commodious a Person, and
so very necessary in all well-regulated Governments, I de
Sir e you will
take my Case into Consideration, that I may be no longer made a Tool
of, and only employed to stop a Gap. Such Usage, without a Pun, makes
me look very blank. For all which Reasons I humbly recommend my self
to your Protection, and am
Your most obedient Servant,
'Blank.
'P. S. I herewith send you a Paper, drawn up by a Country Attorney
employed by two Gentlemen, whose Names he was not acquainted with, and
who did not think fit to let him into the Secret which they were
transacting. I heard him call it a Blank Instrument, and read it after
the following Manner. You may see by this single Instance of what Use
I am to the busy World.
'I T. Blank, Esq., of Blank Town, in the County of Blank, do own my self indebted in the Sum of Blank, to Goodman Blank, for
the Service he did me in procuring for me the Goods following, Blank: And I do hereby promise the said Blank to pay unto him the
said Sum of Blank, on the Blank Day of the Month of Blank next
ensuing, under the Penalty and Forfeiture of Blank.
I shall take Time to consider the Case of this my imaginary
Correspondent, and in the mean while shall present my Reader with a
Letter which seems to come from a Person that is made up of Flesh and
Blood.
Good Mr. SPECTATOR,
'I am married to a very honest Gentleman that is exceedingly
good-natured, and at the same time very cholerick. There is no
standing before him when he is in a Passion; but as soon as it is over
he is the best-humour'd Creature in the World. When he is angry, he
breaks all my China-Ware that chances to lie in his Way, and the next
Morning sends me in twice as much as he broke the Day before. I may
positively say, that he has broke me a Child's Fortune since we were
first marry'd together.
'As soon as he begins to fret, down goes every thing that is within
Reach of his Cane. I once prevailed upon him never to carry a Stick in
his Hand, but this saved me nothing; for upon seeing me do something
that did not please him, he kicked down a great Jarr, that cost him
above Ten Pound but the Week before. I then laid the Fragments
together in a Heap, and gave him his Cane again, deSir ing him that if
he chanced to be in Anger, he would spend his Passion upon the China
that was broke to his Hand: But the very next Day upon my giving a
wrong Message to one of the Servants, he flew into such a Rage, that
he swept down a Dozen Tea-Dishes, which, to my Misfortune, stood very
convenient for a Side-Blow.
I then removed all my China into a Room which he never frequents; but
I got nothing by this neither, for my Looking-Glasses immediately went
to Rack.
'In short, Sir , whenever he is in a Passion he is angry at every thing
that is brittle; and if on such Occasions he had nothing to vent his
Rage upon, I do not know whether my Bones would be in Safety. Let me
beg of you, Sir , to let me know whether there be any Cure for this
unaccountable Distemper; or if not, that you will be pleased to
publish this Letter: For my Husband having a great Veneration for your
Writings, will by that means know you do not approve of his Conduct. I
am,
Your most humble Servant, &c.
Contents
—Adsit
Regula, peccatis quæ pœnas irroget æquas:
Ne Scutica dignum horribili sectere flagello.
Hor.
translation
It is the Work of a Philosopher to be every Day subduing his Passions,
and laying aside his Prejudices. I endeavour at least to look upon Men
and their Actions only as an impartial Spectator, without any regard to
them as they happen to advance or cross my own private Interest. But
while I am thus employed my self, I cannot help observing, how those
about me suffer themselves to be blinded by Prejudice and Inclination,
how readily they pronounce on every Man's Character, which they can give
in two Words, and make him either good for nothing, or qualified for
every thing. On the contrary, those who search thoroughly into humane
Nature, will find it much more difficult to determine the Value of their
Fellow-Creatures, and that Mens Characters are not thus to be given in
general Words. There is indeed no such thing as a Person entirely good
or bad; Virtue and Vice are blended and mixed together, in a greater or
less Proportion, in every one; and if you would search for some
particular good Quality in its most eminent Degree of Perfection, you
will often find it in a Mind, where it is darkned and eclipsed by an
hundred other irregular Passions.
Men have either no Character at all, says a celebrated Author, or it is
that of being inconsistent with themselves. They find it easier to join
Extremities, than to be uniform and of a Piece. This is finely
illustrated in
Xenophon's
Life of
Cyrus
the Great. That Author tells
us, that
Cyrus
having taken a most beautiful Lady named
Panthea
, the
Wife of
Abradatas
, committed her to the Custody of
Araspas
, a young
Persian
Nobleman, who had a little before maintain'd in Discourse,
that a Mind truly virtuous was incapable of entertaining an unlawful
Passion. The young Gentleman had not long been in Possession of his fair
Captive, when a Complaint was made to
Cyrus
, that he not only
sollicited the Lady
Panthea
to receive him in the Room of her absent
Husband, but that finding his Entreaties had no Effect, he was preparing
to make use of Force.
Cyrus
, who loved the young Man, immediately sent
for him, and in a gentle Manner representing to him his Fault, and
putting him in Mind of his former Assertion, the unhappy Youth,
confounded with a quick Sense of his Guilt and Shame, burst out into a
Flood of Tears, and spoke as follows.
Oh
Cyrus,
I am convinced that I hare two Souls. Love has taught me
this Piece of Philosophy. If I had but one Soul, it could not at the
same time pant after Virtue and Vice, wish and abhor the same thing. It
is certain therefore we have two Souls: When the good Soul rules, I
undertake noble and virtuous Actions; but when the bad Soul
predominates, I am forced to do Evil. All I can say at present is, that
I find my good Soul, encouraged by your Presence, has got the Better of
my bad.
I know not whether my Readers will allow of this Piece of Philosophy;
but if they will not, they must confess we meet with as different
Passions in one and the same Soul, as can be supposed in two. We can
hardly read the Life of a great Man who lived in former Ages, or
converse with any who is eminent among our Contemporaries, that is not
an Instance of what I am saying.
But as I have hitherto only argued against the Partiality and Injustice
of giving our Judgment upon Men in gross, who are such a Composition of
Virtues and Vices, of Good and Evil; I might carry this Reflection still
farther, and make it extend to most of their Actions. If on the one
Hand, we fairly weighed every Circumstance, we should frequently find
them obliged to do that Action we at first sight condemn, in order to
avoid another we should have been much more displeased with. If on the
other Hand we nicely examined such Actions as appear most dazzling to
the Eye, we should find most of them either deficient and lame in
several Parts, produced by a bad Ambition, or directed to an ill End.
The very same Action may sometimes be so oddly circumstanced, that it is
difficult to determine whether it ought to be rewarded or punish'd.
Those who compiled the Laws of
England
were so sensible of this, that
they have laid it down as one of their first Maxims,
It is better
suffering a Mischief than an Inconvenience
; which is as much as to say
in other Words, That since no Law can take in or provide for all Cases,
it is better private Men should have some Injustice done them, than that
a public Grievance should not be redressed. This is usually pleaded in
Defence of all those Hardships which fall on particular Persons in
particular Occasions, which could not be foreseen when a Law was made.
To remedy this however as much as possible, the Court of Chancery was
erected, which frequently mitigates and breaks the Teeth of the Common
Law, in Cases of Men's Properties, while in Criminal Cases there is a
Power of pardoning still lodged in the Crown.
Notwithstanding this, it is perhaps impossible in a large Government to
distribute Rewards and Punishments strictly proportioned to the Merits
of every Action. The
Spartan
Commonwealth was indeed wonderfully exact
in this Particular; and I do not remember in all my Reading to have met
with so nice an Example of Justice as that recorded by
Plutarch
, with
which I shall close my Paper for this Day.
The City of
Sparta
being unexpectedly attacked by a powerful Army of
Thebans
, was in very great Danger of falling into the Hands of their
Enemies. The Citizens suddenly gathering themselves into a Body, fought
with a Resolution equal to the Necessity of their Affairs, yet no one so
remarkably distinguished himself on this Occasion, to the Amazement of
both Armies, as
Isadas
the Son of
Phœbidas
, who was at that time in
the Bloom of his Youth, and very remarkable for the Comeliness of his
Person. He was coming out of the Bath when the Alarm was given, so that
he had not time to put on his Cloaths, much less his Armour; however
transported with a De
Sir
e to serve his Country in so great an Exigency,
snatching up a Spear in one Hand, and a Sword in the other, he flung
himself into the thickest Ranks of his Enemies. Nothing could withstand
his Fury: in what Part soever he fought he put the Enemies to Flight
without receiving a single Wound. Whether, says
Plutarch
, he was the
particular Care of some God, who rewarded his Valour that Day with an
extraordinary Protection, or, that his Enemies, struck with the
Unusualness of his Dress, and Beauty of his Shape, supposed him
something more than Man, I shall not determine.
The Gallantry of this Action was judged so great by the
Spartans
, that
the
Ephori
, or chief Magistrates, decreed he should be presented with
a Garland; but as soon as they had done so, fined him a thousand
Drachmas for going out to the Battle unarmed.
Contents
|
Friday, July 9, 1714 |
Addison |
—Deum namque ire per omnes
Terrasque, tractusque maris, cœlumque profundum.
Virg.
translation
I was Yesterday about Sun-set walking in the open Fields, 'till the
Night insensibly fell upon me. I at first amused my self with all the
Richness and Variety of Colours, which appeared in the Western Parts of
Heaven: In Proportion as they faded away and went out, several Stars and
Planets appeared one after another 'till the whole Firmament was in a
Glow. The Blewness of the
Æther
was exceedingly heightened and
enlivened by the Season of the Year, and by the Rays of all those
Luminaries that passed through it. The
Galaxy
appeared in its most
beautiful White. To compleat the Scene, the full Moon rose at length in
that clouded Majesty, which
Milton
takes Notice of, and opened to the
Eye a new Picture of Nature, which was more finely shaded, and disposed
among softer Lights than that which the Sun had before discovered to us.
As I was surveying the Moon walking in her Brightness and taking her
Progress among the Constellations, a Thought rose in me which I believe
very often perplexes and disturbs Men of serious and contemplative
Natures.
David
himself fell into it in that Reflection,
When I consider the Heavens the Work of thy Fingers, the Moon and the
Stars which thou hast ordained; what is man that thou art mindful of
him, and the son of man that thou regardest him!
In the same manner when I considered that infinite Host of Stars, or, to
speak more Philosophically, of Suns, which were then shining upon me,
with those innumerable Sets of Planets or Worlds, which were moving
round their respective Suns; When I still enlarged the Idea, and
supposed another Heaven of Suns and Worlds rising still above this which
we discovered, and these still enlightened by a superior Firmament of
Luminaries, which are planted at so great a Distance, that they may
appear to the Inhabitants of the former as the Stars do to us; In short,
whilst I pursued this Thought, I could not but reflect on that little
insignificant Figure which I my self bore amidst the Immensity of God's
Works.
Were the Sun, which enlightens this Part of the Creation, with all the
Host of Planetary Worlds, that move about him, utterly extinguished and
annihilated, they would not be missed more than a grain of Sand upon the
Sea-shore. The Space they possess is so exceedingly little, in
Comparison of the whole, that it would scarce make a
Blank
in the
Creation. The Chasm would be imperceptible to an Eye, that could take in
the whole Compass of Nature, and pass from one end of the Creation to
the other, as it is possible there may be such a Sense in our selves
hereafter, or in Creatures which are at present more exalted than our
selves. We see many Stars by the help of Glasses, which we do not
discover with our naked Eyes; and the finer our Telescopes are, the more
still are our Discoveries.
Huygenius
carries this Thought so far, that
he does not think it impossible there may be Stars whose Light is not
yet travelled down to us, since their first Creation. There is no
Question but the Universe has certain Bounds set to it; but when we
consider that it is the Work of infinite Power, prompted by infinite
Goodness, with an infinite Space to exert it self in, how can our
Imagination set any Bounds to it?
To return therefore to my first Thought, I could not but look upon
myself with secret Horrour, as a Being that was not worth the smallest
Regard of one who had so great a Work under his Care and
Superintendency. I was afraid of being overlooked amidst the Immensity
of Nature, and lost among that infinite Variety of Creatures, which in
all Probability swarm through all these immeasurable Regions of Matter.
In order to recover my self from this mortifying Thought, I considered
that it took its Rise from those narrow Conceptions, which we are apt to
entertain of the Divine Nature. We our selves cannot attend to many
different Objects at the same Time. If we are careful to inspect some
Things, we must of Course neglect others. This Imperfection which we
observe in our selves, is an Imperfection that cleaves in some Degree to
Creatures of the highest Capacities, as they are Creatures, that is,
Beings of finite and limited Natures. The Presence of every created
Being is confined to a certain Measure of Space, and consequently his
Observation is stinted to a certain number of Objects. The Sphere in
which we move, and act, and understand, is of a wider Circumference to
one Creature than another, according as we rise one above another in the
Scale of Existence. But the widest of these our Spheres has its
Circumference. When therefore we reflect on the Divine Nature, we are so
used and accustomed to this Imperfection in our selves, that we cannot
forbear in some measure ascribing it to him in whom there is no shadow
of Imperfection. Our Reason indeed assures us that his Attributes are
Infinite, but the Poorness of our Conceptions is such, that it cannot
forbear setting Bounds to every Thing it contemplates, till our Reason
comes again to our Succour, and throws down all those little Prejudices
which rise in us unawares, and are natural to the Mind of Man.
We shall therefore utterly extinguish this melancholy Thought, of our
being overlooked by our Maker in the Multiplicity of his Works, and the
Infinity of those Objects among which he seems to be incessantly
employed, if we consider, in the first Place, that he is Omnipresent;
and, in the second, that he is Omniscient.
If we consider him in his Omnipresence: His Being passes through,
actuates, and supports the whole Frame of Nature. His Creation, and
every Part of it, is full of him. There is nothing he has made, that is
either so distant, so little, or so inconsiderable, which he does not
essentially inhabit. His Substance is within the Substance of every
Being, whether material, or immaterial, and as intimately present to it
as that Being is to it self. It would be an Imperfection in him, were he
able to remove out of one Place into another, or to withdraw himself
from any Thing he has created, or from any Part of that Space which is
diffused and spread abroad to Infinity. In short, to speak of him in the
Language of the old Philosopher, he is a Being whose Centre is every
where, and his Circumference no where.
In the second Place, he is Omniscient as well as Omnipresent. His
Omniscience indeed necessarily and naturally flows from his
Omnipresence; he cannot but be conscious of every Motion that arises in
the whole material World, which he thus essentially pervades, and of
every Thought that is stirring in the intellectual World, to every Part
of which he is thus intimately united. Several Moralists have considered
the Creation as the Temple of God, which he has built with his own
Hands, and which is filled with his Presence. Others have considered
infinite Space as the Receptacle, or rather the Habitation of the
Almighty: But the noblest and most exalted Way of considering this
infinite Space is that of
Sir
Isaac Newton
, who calls it the
Sensorium
of the Godhead. Brutes and Men have their
Sensoriola
, or
little
Sensoriums
, by which they apprehend the Presence and perceive
the Actions of a few Objects, that lie contiguous to them. Their
Knowledge and Observation turns within a very narrow Circle. But as God
Almighty cannot but perceive and know every Thing in which he resides,
Infinite Space gives Room to Infinite Knowledge, and is, as it were, an
Organ to Omniscience.
Were the Soul separate from the Body, and with one Glance of Thought
should start beyond the Bounds of the Creation, should it for Millions
of Years continue its Progress through Infinite Space with the same
Activity, it would still find it self within the Embrace of its Creator,
and encompassed round with the Immensity of the Godhead. Whilst we are
in the Body he is not less present with us, because he is concealed from
us.
O that I knew where I might find him! says Job. Behold I go
forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him.
On the left hand, where he does work, but I cannot behold him: he
hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him.
In short, Reason as well as Revelation assures us, that he cannot be
absent from us, notwithstanding he is undiscovered by us.
In this Consideration of God Almighty's Omnipresence and Omniscience
every uncomfortable Thought vanishes. He cannot but regard every Thing
that has Being, especially such of his Creatures who fear they are not
regarded by him. He is privy to all their Thoughts, and to that Anxiety
of Heart in particular, which is apt to trouble them on this Occasion:
For, as it is impossible he should overlook any of his Creatures, so we
may be confident that he regards, with an Eye of Mercy, those who
endeavour to recommend themselves to his Notice, and in an unfeigned
Humility of Heart think themselves unworthy that he should be mindful of
them.