Hor. I know what you are about, you are going to give me the caricatura of a gentleman, under pretence of drawing his portrait.
Cleo. You wrong me, I have no such thought.
Hor. But why is it impossible for human nature ever to be good? instead of leaving out, you put in failings without the least grounds or colour. When things have a handsome appearance every way, what reason have you to suspect them still to be bad? How came you to know, and which way have you discovered imperfections that are entirely well hid; and why should you suppose a person to be covetous in his heart, and that money is his idol, when you own yourself that he never shews it, and that an open generosity shines through all his actions? This is monstrous.
Cleo. I have made no such supposition of any man, and I protest to you, that, in what I said, I had no other meaning than to observe, that whatever frailties and natural infirmities persons might be conscious of within, good sense and good manners were capable, and, without any other assistance, sufficient to keep them out of sight: but your questions are very reasonable, and since you have started this, I will be very open to you, and acquaint you before hand with my design of the description I am going to make; and the use I intend it for; which in short is, to demonstrate to you, that a most beautiful superstructure may be raised upon a rotten and despicable foundation. You will understand me better presently.
Hor. But how do you know a foundation to be rotten that supports the building, and is wholly concealed from you?
Cleo. Have patience, and I promise you, that I shall take nothing for granted, which you shall not allow of yourself.
Hor. Stick close to that, and I desire no more: now say what you will.
Cleo. The true object of pride or vain glory is the opinion of others; and the most superlative wish, which a man possessed, and entirely filled with it can make, is, that he may be well thought of, applauded, and admired by the whole world, not only in the present but all future ages. This passion is generally exploded; but it is incredible, how many strange and widely different miracles are, and may be performed by the force of it; as persons differ in circumstances and inclinations. In the first place, there is no danger so great, but by the help of his pride a man may slight and confront it; nor any manner of death so terrible, but with the same assistance he may court, and if he has a firm constitution, undergo it with alacrity. In the second, there are no good offices or duties, either to others or ourselves, that Cicero has spoke of, nor any instance of benevolence, humanity, or other social virtue, that Lord Shaftsbury has hinted at, but a man of good sense and knowledge may learn to practise them from no better principle than vain glory, if it be strong enough to subdue and keep under all other passions that may thwart and interfere with his design.
Hor. Shall I allow all this?