Talents, without the accompaniment of religion, are but fatal presents: they not only add strength to the vices of the individual, but what is worse they render them more conspicuous to the world.
It is strange that the eye of man should have that magic power we have all felt that it possesses. We can contemplate other bright and beautiful objects without withdrawing our gaze; and what is there in the formation of an eye that should create in us any uneasiness? It is the consciousness that the eye is the index of the mind—that when a man fixes his eye on us we are the subject of his thoughts, and that a being gifted with a soul like ourselves is employing its energies and setting its machinery at work about ourselves. It is this conviction that makes us modestly, and almost involuntarily, shrink from such an inspection.
To put ourselves in a passion, in consequence of the misconduct of others, is unquestionably very weak behaviour, but it has also something generous about it; for we are clearly annoying and punishing ourselves, when the offenders only ought to have been the sufferers.
Meanness and conceit are frequently combined in the same character: for he who to obtain transient applause can be indifferent to truth and his own dignity, will be as little scrupulous about them if, by subserviency, he can improve his condition in the world.
The most trivial circumstances are able to put an end to our gratifications; they are like beds of roses, where it is very unlikely all the leaves should be smooth, and even one that is doubled suffices to make us uncomfortable.
Garrulous men are commonly conceited, and they will be found (with very few exceptions) to be superficial as well. They who are in a hurry to tell what they do know, will be equally inclined, from the impulse of prevailing habit, to tell what they do not know.
F.