Tuesday, June 27, to Thursday, June 29, 1710.
——Propter vitam vivendi perdere causas.—Juv., Sat. viii. 84.
From my own Apartment, June 28.
Of all the evils under the sun, that of making vice commendable is the greatest: for it seems to be the basis of society, that applause and contempt should be always given to proper objects. But in this age we behold things for which we ought to have an abhorrence, not only received without disdain, but even valued as motives of emulation. This is naturally the destruction of simplicity of manners, openness of heart, and generosity of temper. When one gives oneself the liberty to range, and run over in one's thoughts the different geniuses of men which one meets in the world, one cannot but observe, that most of the indirection and artifice which is used among men, does not proceed so much from a degeneracy in Nature, as an affectation of appearing men of consequence by such practices. By this means it is, that a cunning man is so far from being ashamed of being esteemed such, that he secretly rejoices in it. It has been a sort of maxim, that the greatest art is to conceal art; but I know not how, among some people we meet with, their greatest cunning is to appear cunning. There is Polypragmon[332] makes it the whole business of his life to be thought a cunning fellow, and thinks it a much greater character to be terrible than agreeable. When it has once entered into a man's head to have an ambition to be thought crafty, all other evils are necessary consequences. To deceive is the immediate endeavour of him who is proud of the capacity of doing it. It is certain, Polypragmon does all the ill he possibly can, but pretends to much more than he performs. He is contented in his own thoughts, and hugs himself in his closet, that though he is locked up there and doing nothing, the world does not know but that he is doing mischief. To favour this suspicion, he gives half-looks and shrugs in his general behaviour, to give you to understand that you don't know what he means. He is also wonderfully adverbial in his expressions, and breaks off with a "perhaps" and a nod of the head, upon matters of the most indifferent nature. It is a mighty practice with men of this genius to avoid frequent appearance in public, and to be as mysterious as possible when they do come into company. There is nothing to be done, according to them, the common way; and let the matter in hand be what it will, it must be carried with an air of importance, and transacted, if we may so speak, with an ostentatious secrecy. These are your persons of long heads, who would fain make the world believe their thoughts and ideas are very much superior to their neighbours', and do not value what these their neighbours think of them, provided they do not reckon them fools. These have such a romantic touch in business, that they hate to perform anything like other men. Were it in their choice, they had rather bring their purposes to bear by overreaching the persons they deal with, than by a plain and simple manner. They make difficulties for the honour of surmounting them. Polypragmon is eternally busied after this manner, with no other prospect, than that he is in hopes to be thought the most cunning of all men, and fears the imputation of want of understanding much more than that of the abuse of it. But alas! how contemptible is such an ambition, which is the very reverse of all that is truly laudable, and the very contradiction to the only means to a just reputation, simplicity of manners? Cunning can in no circumstance imaginable be a quality worthy a man except in his own defence, and merely to conceal himself from such as are so; and in such cases it is no longer craft, but wisdom. The monstrous affectation of being thought artful immediately kills all thoughts of humanity and goodness, and gives men a sense of the soft affections and impulses of the mind (which are imprinted in us for our mutual advantage and succour) as of mere weaknesses and follies. According to the men of cunning, you are to put off the nature of a man as fast as you can, and acquire that of a demon, as if it were a more eligible character to be a powerful enemy than an able friend. But it ought to be a mortification to men affected this way, that there wants but little more than instinct to be considerable in it; for when a man has arrived at being very bad in his inclination, he has not much more to do, but to conceal himself, and he may revenge, cheat, and deceive, without much employment for understanding, and go on with great cheerfulness with the high applause of being a prodigious cunning fellow. But indeed, when we arrive at that pitch of false taste, as not to think cunning a contemptible quality, it is, methinks, a very great injustice that pick-pockets are had in so little veneration, who must be admirably well turned, not only for the theoretic, but also the practical behaviour of cunning fellows. After all the endeavour of this family of men whom we call cunning, their whole work falls to pieces, if others will lay down all esteem for such artifices, and treat it as an unmanly quality, which they forbear to practise only because they abhor it. When the spider is ranging in the different apartments of his web, it is true that he only can weave so fine a thread; but it is in the power of the merest drone that has wings to fly through and destroy it.
Will's Coffee-house, June 28.
Though the taste of wit and pleasure is at present but very low in this town, yet there are some that preserve their relish undebauched with common impressions, and can distinguish between reality and imposture. A gentleman was saying here this evening, that he would go to the play to-morrow night to see heroism, as it has been represented by some of our tragedians, represented in burlesque. It seems, the play of "Alexander" is to be then turned into ridicule for its bombast, and other false ornaments in the thought as well as the language.[333] The bluster Alexander makes, is as much inconsistent with the character of a hero, as the roughness of Clytus is an instance of the sincerity of a bold artless soldier. To be plain is not to be rude, but rather inclines a man to civility and deference; not indeed to show it in the gestures of the body, but in the sentiments of the mind. It is, among other things, from the impertinent figures unskilful dramatists draw of the characters of men, that youth are bewildered and prejudiced in their sense of the world, of which they have no notions but what they draw from books and such representations. Thus talk to a very young man, let him be of never so good sense, and he shall smile when you speak of sincerity in a courtier, good sense in a soldier, or honesty in a politician. The reason of this is, that you hardly see one play wherein each of these ways of life is not drawn by hands that know nothing of any one of them: and the truth is so far of the opposite side to what they paint, that it is more impracticable to live in esteem in Courts than anywhere else without sincerity. Good sense is the great requisite in a soldier, and honesty the only thing that can support a politician. This way of thinking made the gentleman of whom I was just now speaking say, he was glad any one had taken upon him to depreciate such unnatural fustian as the tragedy of "Alexander." The character of that prince indeed was, that he was unequal, and given to intemperance; but in his sober moments, when he had warm in his imagination the precepts of his great instructor, he was a pattern of generous thoughts and dispositions, in opposition to the strongest desires which are incident to a youth and conqueror. But instead of representing that hero in the glorious character of generosity and chastity, in his treatment of the beauteous family of Darius, he is drawn all along as a monster of lust, or of cruelty; as if the way to raise him to the degree of a hero were to make his character as little like that of a worthy man as possible. Such rude and indigested draughts of things are the proper objects of ridicule and contempt, and depreciating Alexander, as we have him drawn, is the only way of restoring him to what he was in himself. It is well contrived of the players to let this part be followed by a true picture of life, in the comedy called, "The Chances,"[334] wherein Don John and Constantia are acted to the utmost perfection. There need not be a greater instance of the force of action than in many incidents of this play, where indifferent passages, and such that conduce only to the tacking of the scenes together, are enlivened with such an agreeable gesture and behaviour, as apparently shows what a play might be, though it is not wholly what a play should be.
FOOTNOTES:
[332] In reply to this suggestion that the character of Polypragmon was meant for Harley, Steele said, in the Guardian, No. 53: "I drew it as the most odious image I could paint of ambition.... Whoever seeks employment for his own private interest, vanity, or pride, and not for the good of his prince and country, has his share in the picture of Polypragmon; and let this be the rule in examining that description, and I believe the Examiner will find others to whom he would rather give a part of it, than to the person on whom I believe he bestows it, because he thinks he is the most capable of having his vengeance on me.... I have not, like him, fixed odious images on persons, but on vices." To this the Examiner (vol. iv. No. 2) replied: "He would insinuate, that Timon and Polypragmon are general characters, and stand for a whole species, or, as he quaintly words it, for Knights of the Shire. If this be true, why did he not before now silence the industrious clamours of his party, who both in print and public conversation applied those characters to persons of the first rank, though without any regard to the rules of resemblance?" The writer of "Annotations on the Tatler," 1710, in the preface to the second part, regretted that Steele had become a politician, and said, in allusion to Steele's experiments in alchemy: "Turning statesman and drudging for the Philosopher's Stone, are toils not altogether unlike each other; buffeting with fire, labouring in smoke, wearing out of lungs, and tiring oneself with expectation, are misfortunes common to both these projects; 'tis converting real gold to dross, out of a prospect of converting dross into real gold."
[333] A burlesque of Lee's "Rival Queens; or, the Death of Alexander the Great," by Gibber, called "The Rival Queans; or, the Humours of Alexander the Great," was acted at Drury Lane in 1710, but not printed until 1729.
[334] An adaptation of Beaumont and Fletcher's comedy, by the Duke of Buckingham, 1682.