MR. WALLER.
I rather expected you would have considered it as another sacrifice to Insincerity. Such, I remember, was the language of many at that time. The enthusiasts on both sides agreed to stigmatize this temper with the name of Neutrality. Yet this treatment did not prevent me, when the war broke out, from taking a course, which I easily foresaw, would tend to increase such suspicions; for now, to open a fresh scene to you, I had assumed, if not new principles, yet new notions of the manner in which good policy required me to exert my old ones. The general virtue, or what had the appearance of it at least, had hitherto made plain-dealing an easy and convenient conduct. But things were now changed. The minds of all men were on fire: deep designs were laid, and no practice stuck at that might be proper to advance the execution of them. In this situation of affairs, what could simple honesty do, but defeat the purpose and endanger the safety of its master? I now, first, began to reflect that this was a virtue for other times: at least, that not to qualify it, in some sort, was, at such a juncture, not honesty, but imprudence: and when I had once fallen into this train of thinking, it is wonderful how many things occurred to me to justify and recommend it. The humour of acting always on one principle was, I said to myself, like that of sailing with one wind: whereas the expert mariner wins his way by plying in all directions, as occasions serve, and making the best of all weathers. Then I considered with myself the bad policy, in such a conjuncture, of Cato and Brutus, and easily approved in my own mind the more pliant and conciliating method of Cicero. Those stoics, thought I, ruined themselves and their cause by a too obstinate adherence to their system. The liberal and more enlarged conduct of the academic, who took advantage of all winds that blew in that time of civil dissension, had a chance at least for doing his country better service. Observation, as well as books, furnish me with these reflections. I perceived with what difficulty the Lord Falkland’s rigid principles had suffered him to accept an office of the greatest consequence to the public safety[23]: and I understood to what an extreme his scruples had carried him in the discharge of it[24]. This, concluded I, can never be the office of virtue in such a world, and in such a period. And then that of the poet, so skilled in the knowledge of life, occurred to me,
—aut virtus nomen inane est,
Aut decus et pretium recte petit EXPERIENS vir;
that is, as I explained it, “The man of a ready and dexterous turn in affairs; one who knows how to take advantage of all circumstances, and is not restrained, by his bigotry, from varying his conduct, as occasions serve, and making, as it were, experiments in business.”