The Spectator Volume Iii Part 66

No. 537. Sat.u.r.day, November 15, 1712. J. Hughes.

[Greek: Tou men gar genos esmen--]

_To the_ SPECTATOR.

_SIR,_

'It has been usual to remind Persons of Rank, on great Occasions in Life, of their Race and Quality, and to what Expectations they were born; that by considering what is worthy of them, they may be withdrawn from mean Pursuits, and encouraged to laudable Undertakings.

This is turning n.o.bility into a Principle of Virtue, and making it productive of Merit, as it is understood to have been originally a Reward of it.

'It is for the like reason, I imagine, that you have in some of your Speculations a.s.serted to your Readers the _Dignity of Human Nature_.

But you cannot be insensible that this is a controverted Doctrine; there are Authors who consider Human Nature in a very different View, and Books of Maxims have been written to shew the _Falsity of all Human Virtues_. The Reflections which are made on this Subject usually take some Tincture from the Tempers and Characters of those that make them. Politicians can resolve the most s.h.i.+ning Actions among Men into Artifice and Design; others, who are soured by Discontent, Repulses, or ill Usage, are apt to mistake their Spleen for Philosophy; Men of profligate Lives, and such as find themselves incapable of rising to any Distinction among their Fellow-Creatures, are for pulling down all Appearances of Merit, which seem to upbraid them: and Satirists describe nothing but Deformity. From all these Hands we have such Draughts of Mankind as are represented in those burlesque Pictures, which the _Italians_ call _Caracatura's;_ where the Art consists in preserving, amidst distorted Proportions and aggravated Features, some distinguis.h.i.+ng Likeness of the Person, but in such a manner as to transform the most agreeable Beauty into the most odious Monster.

'It is very disingenuous to level the best of Mankind with the worst, and for the Faults of Particulars to degrade the whole Species. Such Methods tend not only to remove a Man's good Opinion of others, but to destroy that Reverence for himself, which is a great Guard of Innocence, and a Spring of Virtue.

'It is true indeed that there are surprizing Mixtures of Beauty and Deformity, of Wisdom and Folly, Virtue and Vice, in the Human Make; such a Disparity is found among Numbers of the same Kind, and every Individual, in some Instances, or at some Times, is so unequal to himself, that _Man_ seems to be the most wavering and inconsistent Being in the whole Creation. So that the Question in Morality, concerning the Dignity of our Nature, may at first sight appear like some difficult Questions in Natural Philosophy, in which the Arguments on both Sides seem to be of equal Strength. But as I began with considering this Point as it relates to Action, I shall here borrow an admirable Reflection from Monsieur _Pascal_, which I think sets it in its proper Light.

'_It is of dangerous Consequence_, says he, _to represent to Man how near he is to the Level of Beasts, without shewing him at the same time his_ Greatness. _It is likewise dangerous to let him see his Greatness, without his_ Meanness. _It is more dangerous yet to leave him ignorant of either; but very beneficial that he should be made sensible of both._ [1]

Whatever Imperfections we may have in our Nature, it is the Business of Religion and Virtue to rectify them, as far as is consistent with our present State. In the mean time, it is no small Encouragement to generous Minds to consider that we shall put them all off with our Mortality. That sublime Manner of Salutation with which the _Jews_ approached their Kings,

O King, _live for ever!_

may be addressed to the lowest and most despised Mortal among us, under all the Infirmities and Distresses with which we see him surrounded. And whoever believes the _Immortality of the Soul_, will not need a better Argument for the Dignity of his Nature, nor a stronger Incitement to Actions suitable to it.

'I am naturally led by this Reflection to a Subject I have already touched upon in a former Letter, and cannot without pleasure call to mind the Thoughts of _Cicero_ to this purpose, in the close of his Book concerning _Old Age_. Every one who is acquainted with his Writings, will remember that the elder _Cato_ is introduced in that Discourse as the Speaker, and _Scipio_ and _Lelius_ as his Auditors.

This venerable Person is represented looking forward as it were from the Verge of extreme Old Age, into a future State, and rising into a Contemplation on the unperishable Part of his Nature, and its Existence after Death. I shall collect Part of his Discourse. And as you have formerly offered some Arguments for the Soul's Immortality, agreeable both to Reason and the Christian Doctrine, I believe your Readers will not be displeased to see how the same great Truth s.h.i.+nes in the Pomp of _Roman_ Eloquence.

"This, says _Cato_, my firm Persuasion, that since the human Soul exerts it self with so great Activity, since it has such a Remembrance of the Past, such a Concern for the Future, since it is enriched with so many Arts, Sciences and Discoveries, it is impossible but the Being which contains all these must be Immortal.

"The elder _Cyrus_, just before his Death, is represented by XENOPHON speaking after this Manner."

'_Think not, my dearest Children, that when I depart from you I shall be no more, but remember, that my Soul, even while I lived among you, was invisible to you; yet by my Actions you were sensible it existed in this Body. Believe it therefore existing still, though it be still unseen. How quickly would the Honours of ill.u.s.trious Men perish after Death, if their Souls performed nothing to preserve their Fame? For my own part, I never could think that the Soul while in a mortal Body, lives, but when departed out of it, dies; or that its Consciousness is lost when it is discharged out of an unconscious Habitation. But when it is freed from all corporeal Alliance, then it truly exists. Further, since the Human Frame is broken by Death, tell us what becomes of its Parts? It is visible whither the Materials of other Beings are translated, namely to the Source from whence they had their Birth.

The Soul alone, neither present nor departed, is the Object of our Eyes._' [2]

"Thus _Cyrus_. But to proceed. No one shall persuade me, _Scipio_, that your worthy Father, or your Grandfathers _Paulus_ and _Africa.n.u.s_, or _Africa.n.u.s_ his Father, or Uncle, or many other excellent Men whom I need not name, performed so many Actions to be remembered by Posterity, without being sensible that Futurity was their Right. And, if I may be allowed an old Man's Privilege, to speak of my self, do you think I would have endured the Fatigue of so many wearisome Days and Nights both at home and abroad, if I imagined that the same Boundary which is set to my Life must terminate my Glory? Were it not more desirable to have worn out my days in Ease and Tranquility, free from Labour, and without Emulation? But I know not how, my Soul has always raised it self, and looked forward on Futurity, in this View and Expectation, that when it shall depart out of Life, it shall then live for ever; and if this were not true, that the Mind is immortal, the Souls of the most worthy would not, above all others, have the strongest Impulse to Glory.

"What besides this is the Cause that the wisest Men die with the greatest aequanimity, the ignorant with the greatest Concern? Does it not seem that those Minds which have the most extensive Views, foresee they are removing to a happier Condition, which those of a narrower Sight do not perceive? I, for my part, am transported with the Hope of seeing your Ancestors, whom I have honoured and loved, and am earnestly desirous of meeting not only those excellent Persons whom I have known, but those too of whom I have heard and read, and of whom I myself have written: nor would I be detained from so pleasing a Journey. O happy Day, when I shall escape from this Croud, this Heap of Pollution, and be admitted to that Divine a.s.sembly of exalted Spirits! When I shall go not only to those great Persons I have named, but to my _Cato_, my Son, than whom a better Man was never born, and whose Funeral Rites I my self performed, whereas he ought rather to have attended mine. Yet has not his Soul deserted me, but, seeming to cast back a Look on me, is gone before to those Habitations to which it was sensible I should follow him.

And though I might appear to have born my Loss with Courage, I was not unaffected with it, but I comforted myself in the a.s.surance that it would not be long before we should meet again, and be divorced no more.

_I am, SIR, &c._"'

_I question not but my Reader will be very much pleased to hear, that the Gentleman who has obliged the World with the foregoing Letter, and who was the Author of the 210th Speculation on the Immortality of the Soul, [the 375th on Virtue in Distress,] the 525th on Conjugal Love, and two or three other very fine ones among those which are not lettered at the end, will soon publish a n.o.ble Poem, Int.i.tled_ An Ode to the Creator of the World, _occasioned by the Fragments of_ Orpheus.

[Footnote 1: _Pensees_. Part I. Art. iv. 7.]

[Footnote 2: Cyropaedia, Book viii.]

No. 538. Monday, November 17, 1712. Addison.

'--Ultra Finem tendere opus.'

Hor.

Surprize is so much the Life of Stories, that every one aims at it, who endeavours to please by telling them. Smooth Delivery, an elegant Choice of Words, and a sweet Arrangement, are all beautifying _Graces_, but not the particulars in this Point of Conversation which either long command the Attention, or strike with the Violence of a sudden Pa.s.sion, or occasion the burst of Laughter which accompanies Humour. I have sometimes fancied that the Mind is in this case like a Traveller who sees a fine Seat in Haste; he acknowledges the Delightfulness of a Walk set with Regularity, but would be uneasy if he were obliged to pa.s.s it over, when the first View had let him into all its Beauties from one End to the other.

However, a knowledge of the Success which Stories will have when they are attended with a Turn of Surprize, as it has happily made the Characters of some, so has it also been the Ruin of the Characters of others. There is a Set of Men who outrage Truth, instead of affecting us with a Manner in telling it; who over-leap the Line of Probability, that they may be seen to move out of the common Road; and endeavour only to make their Hearers stare, by imposing upon them with a kind of Nonsense against the Philosophy of Nature, or such a Heap of Wonders told upon their own Knowledge, as it is not likely one Man should ever have met with.

I have been led to this Observation by a Company into which I fell accidentally. The Subject of _Antipathies_ was a proper Field wherein such false Surprizes might expatiate, and there were those present who appeared very fond to shew it in its full Extent of traditional History.

Some of them, in a learned manner, offered to our Consideration the miraculous Powers which the Effluviums of Cheese have over Bodies whose Pores are dispos'd to receive them in a noxious manner; others gave an account of such who could indeed bear the sight of Cheese, but not the Taste; for which they brought a Reason from the Milk of their Nurses.

Others again discours'd, without endeavouring at Reasons, concerning an unconquerable Aversion which some Stomachs have against a Joint of Meat when it is whole, and the eager Inclination they have for it, when, by its being cut up, the Shape which had affected them is altered. From hence they pa.s.sed to Eels, then to Parsnips, and so from one Aversion to another, till we had work'd up our selves to such a pitch of Complaisance, that when the Dinner was to come in, we enquired the name of every Dish, and hop'd it would be no Offence to any in Company, before it was admitted. When we had sat down, this Civility amongst us turned the Discourse from Eatables to other sorts of Aversions; and the eternal Cat, which plagues every Conversation of this nature, began then to engross the Subject. One had sweated at the Sight of it, another had smelled it out as it lay concealed in a very distant Cupboard; and he who crowned the whole set of these Stories, reckon'd up the Number of Times in which it had occasion'd him to swoon away. At last, says he, that you may all be satisfy'd of my invincible Aversion to a Cat, I shall give an unanswerable Instance: As I was going through a Street of _London_, where I had never been till then, I felt a general Damp and Faintness all over me, which I could not tell how to account for, till I chanced to cast my Eyes upwards, and found that I was pa.s.sing under a Sign-Post on which the Picture of a Cat was hung.

The Extravagance of this Turn in the way of Surprize, gave a stop to the Talk we had been carrying on: Some were silent because they doubted, and others because they were conquered in their own Way; so that the Gentleman had Opportunity to press the Belief of it upon us, and let us see that he was rather exposing himself than ridiculing others.

I must freely own that I did not all this while disbelieve every thing that was said; but yet I thought some in the Company had been endeavouring who should pitch the Bar farthest; that it had for some time been a measuring Cast, and at last my Friend of the Cat and Sign-post had thrown beyond them all.

I then consider'd the Manner in which this Story had been received, and the Possibility that it might have pa.s.s'd for a Jest upon others, if he had not labour'd against himself. From hence, thought I, there are two Ways which the well-bred World generally takes to correct such a Practice, when they do not think fit to contradict it flatly.

The first of these is a general Silence, which I would not advise any one to interpret in his own behalf. It is often the Effect of Prudence in avoiding a Quarrel, when they see another drive so fast, that there is no stopping him without being run against; and but very seldom the Effect of Weakness in believing suddenly. The generality of Mankind are not so grossly ignorant, as some over-bearing Spirits would persuade themselves; and if the Authority of a Character or a Caution against Danger make us suppress our Opinions, yet neither of these are of force enough to suppress our Thoughts of them. If a Man who has endeavoured to amuse his Company with Improbabilities could but look into their Minds, he would find that they imagine he lightly esteems of their Sense when he thinks to impose upon them, and that he is less esteemed by them for his Attempt in doing so. His endeavour to glory at their Expence becomes a Ground of Quarrel, and the Scorn and Indifference with which they entertain it begins the immediate Punishment: And indeed (if we should even go no further) Silence, or a negligent Indifference has a deeper way of wounding than Opposition; because Opposition proceeds from an Anger that has a sort of generous Sentiment for the Adversary mingling along with it, while it shews that there is some Esteem in your Mind for him; in short, that you think him worth while to contest with: But Silence, or a negligent Indifference, proceeds from Anger, mixed with a Scorn that shews another he is thought by you too contemptible to be regarded.

The other Method which the World has taken for correcting this Practice of false Surprize, is to over-shoot such Talkers in their own Bow, or to raise the Story with further Degrees of Impossibility, and set up for a Voucher to them in such a manner as must let them see they stand detected. Thus I have heard a Discourse was once managed upon the Effects of Fear. One of the Company had given an account how it had turn'd his Friend's Hair grey in a Night, while the Terrors of a s.h.i.+pwrack encompa.s.sed him. Another taking the Hint from hence, began, upon his own Knowledge, to enlarge his Instances of the like nature to such a Number, that it was not probable he could ever have met with them; and as he still grounded these upon different Causes, for the sake of Variety, it might seem at last, from his Share of the Conversation, almost impossible that any one who can feel the Pa.s.sion of Fear should all his Life escape so common an Effect of it. By this time some of the Company grew negligent, or desirous to contradict him: But one rebuked the rest with an appearance of Severity, and with the known old Story in his Head, a.s.sured them they need not scruple to believe that the Fear of any thing can make a Man's Hair grey, since he knew one whose Perriwig had suffered so by it. Thus he stopped the Talk, and made them easy.

Thus is the same Method taken to bring us to Shame, which we fondly take to increase our Character. It is indeed a kind of Mimickry, by which another puts on our Air of Conversation to show us to our selves: He seems to look ridiculous before you, that you may remember how near a Resemblance you bear to him, or that you may know he will not lie under the Imputation of believing you. Then it is that you are struck dumb immediately with a conscientious Shame for what you have been saying, Then it is that you are inwardly grieved at the Sentiments which you cannot but perceive others entertain concerning you. In short, you are against your self; the Laugh of the Company runs against you; the censuring World is obliged to you for that Triumph which you have allowed them at your own Expence; and Truth, which you have injured, has a near way of being revenged on you, when by the bare Repet.i.tion of your Story you become a frequent Diversion for the [Publick. [1]]