ESSAYS,
OR
DISCOURSES,

SELECTED FROM

THE WORKS OF FEYJOO,

AND

TRANSLATED FROM THE SPANISH,

BY

JOHN BRETT, ESQ.

VOLUME THE SECOND.

LONDON:

Printed for the Translator:

Sold by H. PAYNE, Pall-Mall; C. DILLY, in the Poultry; and T. EVANS, in the Strand.

MDCCLXXX.

CONTENTS
OF THE SECOND VOLUME

THE
BALANCE OF ASTREA;
OR, Upright Administration of Justice:

In a Letter from an Old Judge, to his Son who was newly raised to the Bench.

SECT. I.

I. I do not know, my Son, whether to congratulate or condole with you on the information you give me, of his Majesty having honoured you with a Judge’s robe. I contemplate you as placed in a state of slavery, which, although it is an honourable one, must always remain and continue a slavery. Already you are neither mine nor your own, but belong to the public at large. The obligations of this charge should not only emancipate you from your father, but detach you from yourself also. There is an end of your considering your convenience, your health, or your ease; and you have only now to attend to the duties and discharge of your conscience; you should look upon your own good as a foreign concern, and regard that of the public as your own. You are already divested of neighbours, friends, or kindred; you have no country, and must have no regard for the tyes of flesh and blood. Do you think I mean to say, you should cease to be a man? No, certainly; but I would have it understood, that the affections of the man should live in such a state of separation from the duties of the Judge, that there should not be the slightest commerce or correspondence between them.

II. I repeat again, that I am at a loss whether to condole with or congratulate you on the event. I view your soul as exposed to the continual hazard of being lost; and I was on the point of saying, the office of a Judge affords proximate occasions for sinning through the course of a man’s life. You may say this is a hard proposition; and I acknowledge it is; but what other inference can be drawn from the terrible sentence of St. John Chrysostom, which is in the following words: It appears to me impossible that any of those who govern should be saved. And what other thing could the religious Pontiff, Pius the Vth, mean, when he said, that while he was a private Religious, he had great hopes of being saved, though when they made him a Cardinal he began to fear, but when they made him a Pope he almost despaired of salvation? If this is not a virtual asseveration, that the occupation of a ruler furnishes a continual and proximate occasion for sinning, I do not understand the expression. But it is true, that although this should be the case, the crime would be obviated, because the necessity of the public makes the exercise of such a function inevitable; but then the crime would only be obviated in such subjects, who feel in themselves, dispositions to perform the duties of such an office with rectitude and propriety; as for the others, I will not exculpate them. I do not understand that text of the Ecclesiastes as an advice or caution, but as a precept and injunction, which says, Don’t solicit to be made a judge, unless you find yourself possessed with that virtue and fortitude, which is necessary to extirpate evil deeds.

III. He who doubts whether he is endued with a sufficient share of knowledge, or a necessary portion of health and constitution, to undertake so weighty a charge; he who does not find himself possessed of a robust heart, which is invincible to, and proof against the promises and threats of the great and powerful; he who feels himself enamoured with the beauty of gold; he who knows his sensibility liable to be wrought upon by the intreaties of domestics, friends, or relations, cannot, in my opinion, enter upon the office of a magistrate with a good conscience. I do not, although it is indispensably necessary, comprehend in this catalogue of requisites the virtue of prudence, because every one fancies he possesses it; but, if a man mistakes in this particular, I judge his error to be incurable.

IV. He who is cloathed with a robe, ought to keep his soul well fortified at all points, because in a variety of occurrences, there is no passion that may not be inimical to justice; and the suitors are very solicitous in examining where the defence is weak; even lawful affections are sometimes hostile to her. What is more right or proper than a man’s tenderness for his wife? But how often has a man’s affection for his wife, been the cause of warping the wand of justice!

V. I don’t mean to inculcate, that a judge should be fierce, unfeeling, and harsh; but that he should be firm, spirited, and a man of integrity. It is rare, but not impossible, for a man to possess a soul of wax for the duties of private life, and a mind of brass for the administration of public ones; although the heart may be susceptible of its tendernesses, the sacred castle of justice should be inaccessible to such feelings. It is said, that friendships may be permitted to approach even to the altar; but they should not be so much as suffered to enter the doors of the temple of Astrea.

VI. I contemplate you, my Son, as having some advantageous dispositions for exercising this office; you are disinterested, an important quality in a judge; but that does not quiet my fears; for how can I be certain you will continue so in future? Disinterestedness, like beauty, is an endowment and ornament of youth, and rarely accompanies life in old age. I have read but of two women who preserved their beauty till seventy; the one was Diana of Poitiers, Dutchess of Valentine, who lived in the reign of Henry the IId. King of France; the other was Aspasia of Miletus, concubine of Cyrus King of Persia. I do not know whether you can reckon many more men, who left totally to their natural dispositions, without the invention or assistance of other helps, preserved their contempt for gold till they arrived at that age. The soul fades with the body, and the narrowness and contractions of avarice are its wrinkles.

VII. The danger of people in exalted stations in the law, falling into this vice, is greater, because they are exposed to more frequent temptations. Elizabeth of England used to say, that the office of a Judge at his first elevation, seemed to fit on him like new cloaths, which appear tight and strait at the beginning, but after a little time they stretch and become easy and familiar. The same may be said of Judges in all other kingdoms. Many, who at first scruple to accept an apple, in the course of a few years, are capable of swallowing the whole orchard of the Hesperides; and you know the apples of that orchard were golden ones. The same thing happens to them that happens to rivulets, which rarely fall into, and are swallowed by the sea, with the scanty stock they contained in their first passages.

VIII. Let no caution, my Son, appear too great, to guard you against the treacherous attacks of avarice; this serpent, whose bulk in time increases without limits, is at first no bigger than a hair; I mean to say, they commonly begin with presents of such trifling value, that the refusing to accept them would be blamed by the world as affected nicety. But what follows? Why, that when they are once admitted, by the exertion of their power in the first entrances of the door of the will, they proceed to widen it by little and little, so that every day it becomes capable of receiving more and more. God defend us from a magistrate’s setting about to enrich himself! because in such a case, he may be compared to the element of water, whose stock bears proportion to the contribution it receives; while it is a brook, it only receives fountains; afterwards becoming a river, it receives brooks; and when it arrives at being a sea, it receives rivers.

IX. It is not sufficient that you keep your own hands clean; but it is also necessary that you examine those of your domestics. The integrity of a magistrate requires, that he should adopt the practice of an active and vigilant matron, who not only takes care of the cleanliness of her own person, but looks also to the cleanliness of the rest of her household. This is not only an obligation you owe to your conscience, but is likewise a matter that concerns your reputation, because it is generally understood, that the inferior part of the family is a subterraneous conduit-pipe, through which, supplies are conveyed to the hand of the master; but in truth it happens in point of regale or refreshment, as it happened to the fountain of Arethusa, which although it was received by a cavern in Greece, the place it fertilized was the land of Sicily. We read in Daniel, that the ministers of the temple are the dainties which were presented to the idol; in the house of a magistrate, the idol eats the dainties which are presented to his ministers.

X. The apprehensions I am under, that you may one day be betrayed into this corruption, move me at present to give you an excellent caution, as a preservative against the temptation of gifts, which is, that you should consider any one who attempts to gain your favour in this way, as a person who offers a direct affront to your honour; for it is clear, that by such an action, he gives it to be understood, that you hold in your hands the scales of venal justice. There are two sorts of people in the world, who fall into the dangerous error, of mistaking injuries for courtesies; women who receive presents from gallants, and ministers of justice who permit the reception of them from suitors: for with respect to the givers, every present is meant as a subornation; otherwise, why is not their liberality manifested to other people as well as to those from whom they entertain expectations? It can only be, because they consider what they give as an offering made to their interest; and that, to which they affect giving the appearance of a courtesy, is at bottom nothing better than a bribe. He who makes presents to a lady, or a minister of justice, attempts their corruption by the act, and in his imagination supposes he has effected it. You ought, therefore, my Son, to consider every one who attempts to gain your favour by such means, as an enemy to your conscience, and as a person dangerous to, and one who would injure your honour; and you should look upon him as a man, more deserving of your contempt and indignation, than your courtesy.

XI. I have given the name of preservative to the foregoing reflection, because it is rather calculated to prevent the infection from getting footing in those, who are sound and in health, than to cure the disease, after it has once taken root. He who has contracted a habit of gorging himself with presents, is callous to the reproach of having put his decisions to sale.

XII. I am inclined to think, Spain is more free from this pestilence than other kingdoms; at least in ministers of your class, this meanness has rarely been observed. It has ever been remarked, that with us, the higher people have been raised on the seats of justice, they have seemed the further removed from the baseness of avarice.

XIII. Would to God, our tribunals were as deaf to recommendations, as they are untainted with bribes! It is on this side, their credit is most tarnished in the public opinion. There is scarce a sentence given in a civil controversy, which the malice of grumblers, and the voice of neutral people, does not impute to have been the effect of some powerful recommendation. The presumption of the influence, which the protection of men of weight has with the Judges, is so prevalent, that many who have been despoiled by an unfair decision, and who are persuaded of the justness of their cause, are afraid to appeal, if they know their opponent has great connections.

XIV. We should hope, the world is greatly mistaken in this matter. The ministers of justice, as far as they are able, and they most commonly can do this, must discharge and comply with the duties of their function in judicial phrases, and according to the words of the law; and although there may have been positive promises made, when they come to the sentence, they must consult and conform to the books of jurisprudence, and not the letters of recommendation. God defend us, however, from the serious misfortune of the protector of either party, having, or ever being able to have, influence in the seats of justice! For then we may have reason to apprehend, that to the shame of the law, the motive of the conduct of the partial Judge may be betrayed by his countenance, and that the dread of such motive being known, may be the torturer who presses out and exposes the secret, or else, that the thing may be unravelled by conjectures, or proved by some transactions in the business; and these are the sort of cases, which, after many years study, make people understand the law in a sense they never understood it before, and which, in the same instant, increases and lessens their esteem for the same authors, and causes the breath of favour to incline the balance, with which they weigh probabilities, to the side where there is the least weight in the scale. I remember that great lawyer, Alexander of the family of the Alexanders, in his treatise called Dias Geniales, says of himself, that he abandoned the profession of an advocate in disgust, from having observed in his own practice, that neither the wisdom or abilities of a counsellor, nor the goodness of a cause, were of any avail in courts, when the opposite parties were espoused by people of power.

XV. But excepting these instances, which have weight with those only, who had rather rise to the highest seats on the bench than ascend to heaven, other modes of favour in courts are trifling and of little use or consequence; but to speak the truth, we ourselves give occasion to their being thought useful and of consequence. If when a person of authority intercedes on behalf of a suitor, we give him hopes and encouragement; or if our answers to such applications, are in terms which exceed what is necessary in a judicial reply; and if afterwards, when that person obtains a sentence in his favour, we seem desirous, or behave so as to make it be thought, our suffrage was a compliment to the great man who interested himself in the suitor’s behalf, in order that he should think he was obliged to us; we are the authors of this error in mankind, and the cause of the injury, which, in consequence of it, our credit suffers with the world.

XVI. This notion of the utility of recommendations, is an impediment to our business, as well as injurious to our reputation; for it is the occasion of our being interrupted with visits, and puts us under the necessity of answering letters of intercession, by which means we waste a great part of that time, which we ought to employ in study. If they knew they were taking all this pains to no purpose, they would not embarrass us with their applications, nor rob us of our time.

XVII. How then are we to act? That is easily determined; speak plain, and undeceive all the world. Let them know, that the sentence depends upon, and is ruled by the law, and not by solicitations and private friendships; that we can serve no man at the expence of justice and our conscience; and that that which they call being favourable, the pretence with which they cover all their petitions, upon a practical examination of things, is a chimera; for a Judge can never shew favour, or at most the cases in which he can do it are metaphysical; even in doubtful and obscure cases, and in those where the probabilities are equal, the laws prescribe rules of equity, which we are strictly and rigorously bound to follow. Oh! but some cases are left to the discretion of the judge! It is true, but they are not for this reason to be determined by his absolute will. Prudential maxims, and rules of equity, point out the road we should pursue; and it is not lawful for us to follow any other course, either for the sake of obliging great men or friends. When it is said, this or that is left to the will and pleasure of the Judge, it should not be understood to mean his absolute uncontrolable will, but to imply, that he is to be guided in his decision by the dictates of reason, and the principles of law. This definition, is conformable to the sense of the Latin verb arbitror, which signifies an act of the understanding, and not of the will.

XVIII. I am well aware, that objections may be made to this frank mode of acting: the first is, that we may be called blunt and ill-bred; but, besides that the reflection would be unjust, it would last no longer, than till it was generally known, we had resolved to adopt this method of acting, and till it was become common and familiar among us. While there shall be but one or two judicial ministers who act in this open ingenuous manner, their candid behaviour may pass among the ignorant for want of breeding and courtesy; but if all the rest were to do the same, even the ignorant would become sensible, that what they had called want of breeding, was integrity; and they would also be convinced, that this is beneficial to them, and a great saving both of money and trouble, which are both wasted in running after, and seeking for friends and patrons, whose assistance and protection is useless to them.

XIX. The second objection is, that judicial ministers would lose a great part of the respect and homage which is now paid them, it being certain, that civilities of this sort, are not so much the result of the reverence due to the character of a Judge, as the effect of the imagined dependance on his favour. It is established upon the credit of good authors, that Epicurus did not, as it is vulgarly thought, deny the existence of the deities, but only their influence or power to do good or harm; but this was sufficient, to cause the tenet to be held as atheistical in practice; for he who denies the power of the Gods, denies them adoration also. Men do not sow obsequies, but with the expectation of reaping a harvest of benefits, and dependance is the only stimulus or first mover to worship; therefore, when men come to consider the tribunal as the mere organ of the law, where every thing depends upon the intention of the legislature, and nothing upon the inclination of the Judge, the applications to the ministers of justice, would be very few and very slight.

XX. This objection would have great weight with those Judges, who desire to be regarded and addressed as deities: but do you, my Son, contemplate yourself as placed on the bench, and not on the altar; and remember, that you are not an idol destined to receive worship and offerings, but an oracle ordained to articulate truths. This is the manner in which you should explain yourself, and undeceive the world; assure the great of your respect, and your friends of your esteem; but intimate both to one and the other, that neither esteem nor respect can gain admittance into the cabinet of justice, because the fear of God, who is the door-keeper of the conscience, requires that they should remain in the antichamber.

XXI. But there may still rest with Judges a discretionary power of shewing courtesies, if not in points that concern the substantial parts of the cause, in the mode of administering justice; I mean, if not in the essence of the sentence, in the brevity of dispatch. This is an error, which I have observed some of our Judges to have fallen into; and I call it an error, because with regard to myself, I have no doubt of its being one. It is an obligation upon us, to give the quickest dispatch possible to causes: and we do not shew favour to him, whose business is done with all possible speed; but to him we do not dispatch with the same expedition, we do injustice. The preference given to people in priority of dispatch, is partiality; and the minister who is the author of it, ought to make good the damages occasioned by the delay to him who was next in turn; in this matter, attention should be had to the nature of the cause, to the time the suit was commenced, and to the injury that would attend procrastination in the decision of it.

XXII. With regard to this last circumstance, when there are not other reasons to forbid it, the poor should be dispatched in preference to the rich; and those who come from distant provinces, before those who live in the neighbourhood. St. Jerome, in his comment on a passage of the Proverbs, says, that formerly courts of justice were placed at the gates of cities; which the Saint imagines to have been done, with a view of preventing the attention of strangers who come upon law business, and especially that of the rustics, from being taken up and confounded by the multitude of strange objects which present themselves to their sight, and by the bustle and hurry of the city; from hence it may be inferred, that the dispatch was very quick, and that it was not necessary for them to take a lodging in town; but things are greatly altered now-a-days, and strangers who come from a great distance to prosecute their causes, are detained so long, that they in a manner become neighbours and inhabitants of the city. Nothing is so pernicious as the amazing delays of judicial proceedings; as formerly, they saw the tribunals at the gates of great towns, at present, we see intire towns built round the gates of the tribunals, because the slowness of dispatch increases the bulk of the causes in the office, and the number of suitors in and about the office-porch.

XXIII. I reflect with horror on the mischiefs which these delays occasion; for in consequence of the expence they create, it frequently happens that both the suitors are ruined, the vanquished is stripped and laid prostrate, and the conqueror has spent his all. There are litigations, which last as long as the four elements in man, that is to say, for the whole course of his life; and the result of them is the same, the ruin of the whole. O terminations of law! you appear like the boundaries of the world in the opinion of Descartes, that is, indefinite.

XXIV. Even where there is nothing to wait for, and there is no occasion of delay, the cause is sometimes suspended for months together. My Son, you are not ignorant of the rule of law laid down by Sextus Pomponius, which says, in the discharge of all our obligations, where there is no particular day prescribed or assigned for dispatching a business, we should make use of the present day. The practice of all tribunals should be conformable to this rule, and when things are prepared for trial, the decision should not be delayed a day, and the Judges should direct, that the preparations are made with all the expedition possible.

XXV. From what has been premised, it is evident that a Judge can never properly receive from a suitor any compliment or acknowledgment, on account of having dispatched his cause, because he cannot be supposed capable of doing him any favour, and consequently is not entitled to any recompence. The ministers of justice ought to resemble the heavenly bodies, who bestow great benefits on the earth, although they receive nothing from it; for it is their duty, and incumbent on them, to confer those benefits. They receive their reward and support from the great Sovereign of all, who has assigned them their stations and their duties, and the assistance of their light and their influence is a debt they owe to the inferior world; but the inferior world is not charged with obligations to them.

XXVI. Even the visit to return thanks, which after the suitor has got his cause, is made by him to the Judges, I look upon as superfluous. For what does he thank them? For having given him what belonged to him and was his own. They are entitled to no thanks for that; and if they have given him what was the property of another man, they deserve punishment.

XXVII. What has been said on the subject of brevity and dispatch, is equally pertinent to criminal as well as civil causes. The person accused has a right to be cleared if he is innocent, and his punishment is a debt due to the public if he is guilty; and it is generally expedient, for one or other of these parties to be pressing for dispatch. It is very clear, that proceeding with caution in criminal cases is necessary, lest you fall into the serious mischief, of punishing as guilty people those who are innocent. But standing still and doing nothing, is not proceeding with caution; neither is thinking no more of those in the dungeon, than of those in the grave.

XXVIII. Besides the reasons for dispatch, which are common to, and apply equally to both sorts of causes; there is one of special note, and great weight, which points out why it is most necessary in criminal ones; and that is, delay being frequently the cause of malefactors escaping without punishment. This happens by two ways: the first is, that by delaying the process, there is more time given to the culprits to contrive and execute their escape from prison, which when these fierce savages have effected, they are commonly seized with a rage, of recovering in a few days, the time they have been deprived of by their confinement, to commit outrages; and they fancy they have a right to revenge themselves by new schemes of roguery, for the punishment they have undergone by having been chained and fettered. There is scarce an innocent person whom they do not regard as their enemy, and those only who are their brethren in iniquity, are exempted from their fury and indignation.

XXIX. This is the common way of their revenging themselves in general, but their malice and resentment towards particular people is the most pernicious to the public; those who are most threatened with their vengeance, being such as have in any shape been instrumental in their confinement, or in having them brought to justice.

XXX. The second way, by which delays in criminal prosecutions afford occasions for delinquents to escape with impunity, is not so palpable, nor so obvious as the first, but in general is more successful, and oftener takes effect. I will explain what I mean. When a notorious crime is newly committed, all minds are sharpened against the offender, and filled with horror at the outrage. Even the most mild call out for punishment, and the injured person, invokes heaven and earth for it. The public in general seem filled with resentment, and breathe nothing but severity. All this indignation, in the course of a short space of time, begins to lessen, and by little and little, this fierce fire proceeds to vanish in smoak; and the further we advance from the æra of the fact, the less impression of the deed is left on the mind; and in our conversation on the subject, we begin to mix apophthegms of compassion with theorems of justice; and by so much the longer the cause is delayed, by so much the more our zeal abates; we pass from hot to lukewarm, and from lukewarm to actual cold. The suspension of half a year, changes the burning heats of July, to the cool air and frosts of January. People breathe nothing but pity, and every thing seems in favour of the culprit, except his crime. The supplicants in his behalf are numerous, many from compassion, and some from friendship or interest. When the tempers of people are brought to this disposition, the culprit, who but a little before, in the universal opinion, was deemed deserving of a halter, is released from prison, without undergoing a punishment that is equal to a pat with the open hand.

XXXI. I have often wondered at the favourable manner in which criminals are sometimes treated, when there does not appear any reason, or motive, for being favourable to them; but it should be remembered, there is always a motive for bringing them to justice. God commands it, and the public safety requires it; and the community has a right to demand, that delinquents should be chastised; for the impunity of evil deeds multiplies the number of evil doers. In consequence of saving one malefactor from the gallows who is deserving of death, many innocent people may afterwards lose their lives, or their fortunes. O mercy ill understood! O impious compassion! O tyrannic pity! O cruel pity!

XXXII. I do not deny that criminals should sometimes be pardoned; but then it should only be in those cases, where the public is as much, or more, interested in their forgiveness, than it is in their punishment. The public good is the true north, to which the wand of justice should always point. The services the guilty person has done to the commonwealth, or those which he may be expected to do to it, on account of his singular talents for doing them, are special and material considerations in such a case. The law furnishes precepts conducive to this end, in formal terms. Therefore, the death which Manlius Torquatus inflicted on his brave son, when he returned victorious, for having fought without orders, was contrary to the rules of equity. What more could have been done to one, who had returned vanquished, and who had no antecedent merit to plead which might entitle him to a pardon?

XXXIII. Princes have a larger discretionary power in these matters, than their ministers of justice; not because they can pardon according to their will and pleasure; for they must be guided by their obligations to God and the commonwealth; but because the general or common interests, are more proper objects for their consideration, than for that of particular Judges. With regard to a sovereign, not only the personal services of the guilty individual, but those also of his near relations, such as his father, his wife, his brothers, and his sons, may furnish motives for conciliating a pardon, or for mitigating the punishment; and this has always been the practice of the most illustrious princes. It is masterly policy, to inform generous minds by such instances of clemency, that they cannot only acquire merit for themselves, but for their relations also. Great benefit may be derived to the community from this incentive; and many other methods of deriving advantages to the public, by a judicious dispensation of lenity or pardon, may be hit upon by princes, although it is not easy for me to point out or enumerate them.

XXXIV. In crimes committed through inattention or weakness, there is a large scope allowed for the exercise of pity or forgiveness. The laws themselves allot less punishments for such offences, which punishments the prince, in some cases, may totally and consistently dispense with. I will give an example. It having come to the knowledge of Pyrrhus king of the Epirots, that some young fellows in their cups had murmured against, and cast sharp reflections upon him; he caused them to be brought into his presence, where he asked them, if it was true that they had said such and such things; to which one of them, who was a candid spirited lad, answered, Yes, sir, it is true, that after having drank plentifully, we did say what you have mentioned; and if we had drank more, we should have talked more in the same strain. Pyrrhus pardoned them, and in my opinion he acted wisely. It was a great mitigation of such a fault, that the offence was committed under a kind of perverted state of the understanding; and as it was entirely personal against the King, his pardoning it had an air of generosity, which tended to augment the love and respect of his subjects, a consideration of great importance in all kingdoms. By this mode of proceeding, the public gained a great deal more, than it was possible it could lose by such a crime going unpunished.

XXXV. But waiving the particular circumstance of their being in liquor, which lessened the offence of those young fellows; the shewing indulgence and lenity by Princes, to those who cast personal reflections on them, will always have a good effect; because by acting in this manner, they manifest their clemency, and cause the reflection itself to be discredited. The evil-speaking of a few subjects, cannot take from sovereigns any thing like the proportion of respect, which the opinion of their being clement and magnanimous, would gain them with all their other subjects. The delinquent himself would be put to shame by the pardon, because, if he considers it as an act of generosity and lenity, it proves to him that he murmured without reason; and if he thinks the gentleness proceeded from contempt, no other punishment could mortify him so much, or be better adapted; and this is the proper way of chastising insolencies of the tongue, because, by proceeding in any other manner, you would feed the vanity of murmurers, and beget in them a presumption that they were feared; you would also inflame their hatred, and stimulate their rashness. It has been remarked, that princes, who have been very solicitous in fishing out and punishing the murmurs of juntos of people, have increased those evils in their own time, and have eternized them to posterity. This is a Hydra, the number of whose heads is multiplied by vengeance and the knife, and who is suffocated by the fumes of contempt.

XXXVI. The behaviour of our gracious and magnanimous King Philip V. may serve as a pattern, for the application of this mixture of severity and clemency, which the virtue of justice requires of Princes. Inexorable with regard to those serious crimes that were to the prejudice of a third person, he always shewed a generous indulgence to those which only respected himself. In the civil wars of some years back, when the agitation of the winds was such, as to cause even the rocks and mountains to shake; when the constancy of many wavered, and they sought pretences for loyalty in desertion itself; he winked at many offences of deeds, and pardoned all those of words, which did not relate to, or were not connected with, the deeds themselves. This augmented the love of all those hearts who were faithful to him, and in the end was productive of fidelity in the hearts of all men.

XXXVII. But to return to the subject of severity in punishing crimes, and the duties of a magistrate in that respect; I say that severity is not only necessary for the good of the public, but that it is also beneficial to the criminal himself. It is a received opinion, that those who die by the hand of Justice, rarely go to a state of condemnation. All appearances persuade such a belief, and there are certain parts of written revelation, which seem to confirm the sentiment. What benefit then do you confer on a malefactor, who if he dies by the halter, takes his flight to a state of bliss; and who, if he afterwards loses his life in some of those adventures which are incident to his profession, is launched into perdition?

XXXVIII. With respect to certain sorts of crimes, in some instances where I have wished to see Judges very solicitous to inflict punishment, I have observed them very indulgent. I speak of those faults in the practice of the law, which are committed by people of the profession, and those who know the true state and secrets of causes, and who intervene as instruments in the prosecution of them; such as the advocate, the solicitor, or the attorney, to which we may add the witnesses also. The tribunal is a whole of such delicate contexture, that there is no integral part of it whatever, which is not essential. It is a machine, in which, a failure, false construction, or weakness of the most minute wheel, disorders all its movements. Of what avail is it, that the Judges are upright, if the proceedings and informations come adulterated to their hands and ears? The greater their integrity, the more certain in the issue would be the pronunciation of a false and unjust sentence; because the judgment would be founded, on the vitiated proceedings and testimony which had been laid before them. Among the Japanese, they punish with the utmost severity, all false information which is given to Judges with respect to causes they are trying, even when it is preferred by a party interested. This appears to me excellent policy. The way to make the road to justice smooth and secure, is to disincumber it of all impediments to the advancement of truth; and to do this, there is no alternative, but that of punishing lyes with the utmost severity.

XXXIX. If it is objected, that this would be excess of rigour, because the punishment might exceed the proportion of the crime; I answer, that Lawyers should weigh crimes in a different manner from Theologians. The Theologian examines the intrinsic malice or evil of the act: the lawyer attends to the consequences that may result to the public; and these may be important, although the fault may at first sight appear light and trifling. It is true, that the Theologian considers the consequences also, when it appears that the delinquent foresaw them, and in that case regards this circumstance as a proportionable aggravation of the crime in foro conscientiæ. The Lawyer cannot, nor does it belong to him, to enquire whether the culprit foresaw them; for he is only to apply the remedy the law has prescribed to prevent the mischief; and thus, for the sake of example to the world at large, the offender is punished in the same manner as if he had actually foreseen the mischief.

XL. Let us now consider, that the falsehoods and deceits, with which tribunals are environed, make the investigation of truth so difficult, that in some causes it is come at late, and in others never. This is a most pernicious injury to the public, for the tediousness and difficulty of the verification, gives breathing-time for the ill intentioned, to devise and concert all sorts of wickedness. What remedy then can you apply to this evil, but that of punishing rigorously every kind of judicial deceit? The most pernicious loss or disadvantage to a commonwealth, does not consist so much in there being a great number of members in it who do not fear God, as it does in those members who do not fear God, not fearing the magistrate neither.

XLI. I am not surprized that there are so many false witnesses, when I observe the lenity that is shewn to them. Among the eastern nations, according to Strabo, they used to cut off their feet and their hands. And Heraclides says, that among the Lycians, they used to confiscate all their effects, and sell them for slaves. Alexander of Alexandria relates, that the Pysidians threw them headlong from a high precipice. In the Helvetic history, we read, that the magistrates of Bern put to death two witnesses by boiling them in oil, for having deposed falsely, that one citizen owed another a large sum of money.

XLII. When I contemplate how necessary rigour is in such matters, none of these punishments strike me with horror. The most just and reasonable punishment for this mischief, and the best adapted for the purpose, is the Lex Talionis, which was dictated by the Divine mouth, and which God ordained to be established among the people of Israel, and which is also recommended by various texts of the civil law. It was in use in Spain, according to the practice of the antient law, called the law of Toro. But ultimately, on account of its not being adapted to all cases, Philip the IId. leaving it in its full vigour with respect to capital cases, where the false witness was to suffer the same punishment, which, if his evidence had taken effect, was to have been inflicted on the person accused; I say, with this exception, he ordained for all other cases of perjury, that the delinquent should be exposed to public shame and disgrace, and condemned to perpetual imprisonment in the gallies. But when will these laws be put in execution? I don’t know whether in the long course of my life, I have once seen the application of them. What most commonly happens is, that just as they are on the point of determining on the sentence, Pity violently and abruptly enters, and makes her appearance in the court; and upon contemplation of this most serene lady, the Judges, instead of public shame and perpetual confinement in the gallies, decree a fine or pecuniary punishment.

XLIII. The words of God to Moses, when he spoke to him of false witnesses, as related in the ninth chapter of Deuteronomy, are very remarkable; he says, non misereberis ejus. No, Moses; have no tenderness, no compassion, nor any bowels or pity for such. The decree seems rigid, and so it does; but it is absolutely necessary also. With a false witness, all should be rigour, without the least mixture of clemency: non misereberis ejus. And so it is fit it should be; for if it was otherwise, who would be safe in their property, their honour, or their lives? This is not in reality abandoning or losing sight of compassion, but fixing your attention to it on the proper objects; it is turning the eyes of pity from a guilty individual, and placing them on an innocent multitude.

XLIV. The same sort of punishment, which is inflicted on a false witness, having regard to proportioning the quantum of it to the nature or degree of the offence, should be applied to all those, who deceive, or in any shape procure deceit to be practised on Judges, in the business of trying a cause. It is necessary, in order to insure justice, to smooth the way by which truth is to advance to the tribunal, although it should be done with fire and sword. All that would be expended in rigour on this side, would be saved with interest on the other. By so much the more the proof of offences is facilitated, by so much the less will the number of them be; and the less frequent the sad spectacle of executions is, so much the less will the innocent suffer. Dispatch in civil causes, is also a matter of great importance, and should be added to the catalogue of these utilities.

XLV. On this account, I am of opinion, that no indulgence, or remission whatever, should be allowed at the instance of an advocate, upon a suggestion of false citations, or mistakes in terms of law (leaving however such cases to discretion, which may be attributed to the equivocal meaning of words, or accidental omissions); but abstracted from this exception, such attempts, if you consider them, are contrary to the virtue and essence of justice, and should not be permitted to succeed.

XLVI. Neither should the advocate escape without severe punishment, who espouses causes which are evidently unjust; and I think the most proper penalty which could be inflicted in such cases, would be a long suspension from the exercise of his function; and a Solicitor should be treated in the same manner, who raises impertinent difficulties, and makes frivolous objections, with a view of creating delay. But, O pernicious lenity! already these serious offences, which are contrary to good faith, and the true spirit of law, are judged to be sufficiently punished by a verbal reprehension. This is a weak bridle, to curb and restrain the impulses of avarice, ambition, love, fear and hatred, five enemies of justice, who alternately, according to the power or influence of the parties to the cause, incite judicial ministers to violate the chastity of their office.

XLVII. We in all parts hear complaints against the proceedings of Justices, their clerks, and other attendants on them. I believe, if all the delinquents of this class were punished according to their deserts, we should see an infinite number of the wands and pens of Spain converted to oars. These people are accused of, and supposed to make a trade of their profession. If all be true that is said of them, it seems as if the Devil, who after his own manner is always endeavouring to imitate the works of piety and benevolence, upon seeing the church had founded some convents of religious Mendicants, for the benefit and salvation of souls, had a mind to found in these gentry, a Mendicant irreligion, for the perdition of them. Their duty is to apprehend, or cause to be apprehended, thieves and robbers; their practice is, instead of taking the thief, to take something of or from him; and there are few delinquents who are not suffered to go at large, and with impunity, provided they have something large to bestow for being winked at. It is very difficult to detect collusions of this sort; but in proportion to this difficulty, should be the rigour of punishing them. If out of a great number who practise these iniquities, you should be only able to prove the guilt of one, it would be necessary to proceed with such severity against that one, as might terrify all the rest; that if they are not alarmed by the frequency of the punishment, they should be made to dread the weight of it.

XLVIII. Having before touched upon mulcts or pecuniary punishments, I will here frankly make known to you a reflection, which many years ago occurred to me on this mode of punishing, and which occasioned me to look upon it in no very favourable light. I say, I have considered that the burden of the mulct is not only loaded on the shoulders of the guilty, but many times sits equally, if not more heavy, on those of the innocent. A father of a family, with a scanty income, commits a crime, and by way of chastising him, he is fined a hundred ducats. The substraction of this sum, is not felt by him only who was guilty of the offence, but by his wife and his children also; and they are those who commonly suffer the most; for as every one loves himself better than his nearest relations, and the delinquent being master of the house, he keeps as large a share of the good things it contains for his own use as he thinks proper, and seldom curtails himself of the gratifications he enjoyed before, either with respect to food, raiment, or diversions. The saving to make good the sum taken from him is pinched out of the rest of his household. His own expences are the same, and the inconvenience occasioned by the deduction is chiefly borne by his wife and children. Don’t be surprized then, that I look with an unfavourable eye on a punishment, the greatest portion of which falls more on the innocent than the guilty. I confess, however, that many times this is unavoidable, and the levying pecuniary penalties established by law, for certain offences and neglects, is inevitable; besides which, there is a necessity to distrain for money, to defray the expences of law charges. What can be done then in this case? Why, you can only determine, to reduce this mode of punishment, within as narrow a compass as possible.

XLIX. The honour of the Judges also requires this should be done, because the vulgar, when they see mulcts laid on with a heavy hand, and do not perceive the money arising from them applied to purposes of public benefit, such as the building of bridges, the repairing of highways, the making of aqueducts, and in the aid of hospitals for the poor, &c. they easily persuade themselves, that the Judges are interested in the imposition of fines; and although Judges may sometimes be indiscreet and rash, it is necessary to rescue them from those gross imputations, when it can conveniently be done.

L. When delinquents have no families, and the consequences of depriving them of their money are only felt by themselves, no punishments appear to me more rational and proper than pecuniary ones, and especially when the nature of the offence does not demand a more severe chastisement. In the first place, it is not a sanguinary punishment, and is more consonant to the feelings of compassion, than one that is tinged with blood, both with respect to him who pronounces the sentence, and him to whom it is applied. Secondly, despoiling an evil-disposed man of his money, is disarming him of vice, as it deprives him of the weapons with which he was enabled to do mischief. Thirdly, if the money is expended for the good of the public, the community will derive a double advantage from this mode of punishment, as somewhat of temporal benefit will be added by it, to a well-adapted and exemplary application of justice.

LI. I now, my Son, have told you my sentiments on all that has occurred to me as most essential in judicial administration. If, upon seeing me so scrupulously tenacious on the side of justice, it shall appear to you that I mean to erase clemency out of the catalogue of virtues, you are mistaken. I know the excellence of this virtue, and even lament, that in our ministry there is but small scope for exercising it. I venerate this divine quality, which, on account of its elevated and sublime nature, I contemplate, as superior to the sphere of our jurisdiction. I call it divine, by reason of its active power to remit penalties decreed by the laws, which is an authority or prerogative almost peculiarly belonging, and proper to God alone. He, as Supreme Master, can pardon all sorts of crimes; Kings as next to him in sovereignty, can pardon some; but the hands of their inferior ministers are tied in all cases; for he who is subject to the laws, can never be vested with a power to arbitrate and dispense forgivenesses.

LII. It is true, that where the law is obscure, we have authority to interpret and construe it in a benign sense; but in this construction, we should not lose sight of the exigence of the public safety, nor the dictates of natural equity: and acting in this manner, is not clemency but justice. We may also in virtue of the principle which is called Epeikeyan, that allows of a wise and moderate interpretation of the law, lessen, or even in many cases omit, the penalties which the law decrees. This also is not lenity but justice, because upon such occasions, we are rather obliged to conform to the intention of the legislature, than the letter of the law; and such cases frequently occur in small offences, because, upon an examination of the nature of these things, it often appears to the eye of Prudence, that greater inconveniences would attend the punishing, than the tolerating them. Following the letter of the penal law, without admitting any exceptions, even in those cases where the legislature could not intend, nor prudence suppose it was meant to bind, is what is called justice in extreme, or summum jus, which with great reason is termed extreme injustice; therefore, acting contrary to the letter of the law in these instances, is likewise not clemency, but justice. Aristotle, who very well understood the nature of things appertaining to Ethics, judges the Epiekeyan, to be a principle, or part of justice. From all that has been said, it may be inferred, that requesting favour or compassion of a Judge, or supposing him capable of shewing any in the discharge of his duty, is an absurdity, and calling things by improper names; for if he acts according to the law, reasonably and rightly understood, he does justice; if contrary to it, he does injustice. In what are called casos omissos, and when the law is obscure, there are general rules for interpreting it and supplying the defects, which interpretations have the force of laws; so that there is no middle path between justice and injustice, for a Judge to walk in; because there are no means, by which he can act conformable to law, and contrary to law. God keep you.

ON THE IMPUNITY OF LYING.

SECT. I.

I. Two common errors present themselves to me with respect to the subject-matter of this discourse, the one theoretical, the other practical. The theoretical is derived from lying among men being reputed as infamous, or as a vice nearly bordering upon infamy. Let us admit, for argument’s sake, the divisions the theologians make of a lie, into officious, jocose, and pernicious. Let us admit also, that a pernicious lie is reputed in the common opinion as it deserves to be reputed, and that it is treated with all possible abhorrence, so that those who are noted for telling lies to the prejudice of their neighbours, are generally considered as the pests of society; but notwithstanding all this, my remarks will be principally confined to officious and jocose lies; that is, to such as are not intended to injure a third person, but are only told to entertain, or because they may be of some utility to a man’s self, or to some other person. I must also premise, that I mean to treat this point more as a politician, than as a moral theologian. The theologians estimate officious, and jocose lies, as venal sins; nor should I or any one else in a moral light, represent them blacker. But if viewed in a political light, my sentiment is, that the common opinion is excessively favourable and indulgent to this species of vice.

II. And what is the reason of this excessive indulgence? Why the reason is, because this sort of lie is not considered as an affront offered to any man. The being noted for an officious or jocose liar, does not take from any man the honour, which in other respects is thought due to him. A gentleman, let him tell as many of these sort of lies as he will, is still looked upon as a gentleman; a nobleman also, notwithstanding his being remarked for this vice, is considered as a nobleman, and a prince as a prince. But this appears to me repugnant to all reason. Lying is infamous, bad, and vile; and a liar is unworthy of human society; he is an impostor, who traiterously avails himself of the good faith of other men, in order to deceive them. The most precious intercourse among men, is that of a frank and reciprocal communication of their souls; with which, they in conversation lay open and disclose to each other, the affections of their wills, the sentiments of their mind, and all that is treasured up in their memories. Now what is a liar, but a solemn circumventor of this inestimable commerce? what, but a deceiver, who imposes on us delusions for realities? what but a circulator of false money, who passes the iron of a lie for the gold of truth? and finally, what can there be found in this man, that should excuse him from being discarded and rejected by all others, as a nuisance to company, a vile contaminator of conversation, and as a detestable falsifier of all intelligence and information?

SECT. II.

III. I cannot help remarking a monstrous contradiction, that is very frequent in this matter. If a man of any rank or figure in the world, is told to his face that he lies, he considers himself as very seriously injured, and according to the cruel laws of human honour, is esteemed as having put up with a very gross affront, if he does not demand of the man who told him so, a very sanguinary satisfaction; but I would be glad to know, how telling a man he lies, can be a very serious injury, if lying is not esteemed a very serious defect in him who is addicted to it; or how a man can be considered as affronted, because he is told he lies, if the action of lying is not scandalous or unworthy. The degree of reproach annexed to a vice, is generally estimated according to the light in which that vice is considered by the world at large. If the vice is not held to be such a one, as tarnishes a man’s honour, his honour will not be deemed wounded by the commission of it; and it may be said of a man in such a case, that his honour is not injured. This being a notorious fact, the inference I would draw from the before-mentioned observation, is, that the frequency of lying, lessens in the generality of mankind, the abhorrence, which natural reason left to itself, has of this vice; but notwithstanding this custom, it has not diminished so thoroughly, but that there still remains in the soul of man, a clear conviction, that lying is a baseness.

IV. I am confirmed in this opinion, by the observation, that a man’s denying what he has said, is looked upon as an opprobrium to him. And why is this? why because it amounts to a confession that he had before told a lie. The opprobrium cannot lie in the truth of what he now confesses; and therefore must consist in the lie which he told before. Confessing that he has lied, is a mark of sincerity, and no one need blush for having been sincere; therefore all the ignominy must be annexed to the lie. This, I say, makes it manifest to me, that their native sentiment of this matter is not so obscured in mankind, but that it represents a lie to them as a most unworthy and a vile thing.

SECT. III.

V. The practical error in this matter, is derived from a lie’s going unpunished, and from the laws not having prescribed any punishment for liars. Why is there no bridle to curb the propensity men have to deceive one another? and why should a man be allowed to lie to what amount he pleases at free cost? Although men are not contented with enjoying a total indemnity in this case, but frequently glory in what they have done, and go on to insult those they have imposed on, and to treat the sincerity of other men as imprudence; is not this an abominable offence, and such a one as deserves to be punished?

VI. I may be told, that human laws do not attend to deterring by the fear of punishment, people from committing any other crimes, except such as are prejudicial to the public, or injurious to a third person; and that officious or jocose lies, which are those we are discoursing of at present, hurt no body, for if they had been found to be injurious, they would before this, have been classed among, and deemed as pernicious offences.

VII. Against this remark, solid as it may appear, I have two very notable replies to make. The first is, that although every officious or jocose lie considered by itself, is injurious to nobody; still, the frequency and impunity with which they are told, have a pernicious effect on the public; for they deprive the generality of mankind of a very valuable benefit. To make my meaning more clearly understood, I must beg every man to contemplate the inconveniencies that would arise from a doubt or distrust, whether whatever is told us be true or false; which distrust is unavoidable, and founded on prudence, if we advert to the frequency with which people lie. Upon hearing any piece of intelligence, in which our wishes, or our conveniencies are interested, we remain in a state of perplexity, whether to believe or disbelieve it; and this perplexity is generally attended with a very disagreeable agitation of the mind, that sets a man at variance as it were with himself, and causes him to halt between two opinions, and to remain in a disagreeable state of suspence, whether to reject as false, or assent to the intelligence he hears as true. Those to whom the rumour that is propagated may be serviceable, either with regard to their communicating it, or on account of the use it may be of to illustrate any thing they have been writing, and are about to publish, are set on the tenters by reason of this uncertainty. They would give any thing to ascertain the reality of a curious event, that was applicable to, and would tend to embellish the subject they had been writing upon, but cannot take a step towards informing themselves, without meeting with a stumbling block in their way. Some affirm the truth of the thing, others deny it; here they tell the story in one way, and there they relate it in another; and all this while, the pen of the author is obliged to stand still, and to continue for a long time in a disagreeable and violent state of suspence.

VIII. But although the perplexity that may attend our doubting whether we shall give our assent to what we hear, may be productive of these evils, the mischief that would result from our giving easy faith and credit to all we are told, would be much greater; for if we reflect, we shall find, that the altercations, disputes, and disturbances which arise in conversation, are produced for the most part by easy credulity. Different people, hear different accounts of the same thing, and because each believed what he heard; they afterwards altercate furiously, each persisting, that the account he had heard of the matter was the true one. Reflect how many people have made themselves ridiculous, by believing what they should have rejected as fabulous. Reflect also, that human society, which is the sweetest boon of life, or which would be so if mankind were to behave to each other with truth and candour, is made ungrateful and disgusting at every turn, by the distrust which is occasioned, in consequence of our experiencing how much people are addicted to lie.

IX. In order to comprehend how great a good we are deprived of by this distrust, let us figure to ourselves a republic, although I fear there never was such a one in the world, where either from the generous influence of their soil and climate, men were more noble-minded; or from the fear of a lie being punished with great severity, all the individuals who compose it, were strict observers of the truth; I say admitting this, my imagination represents to me, that such a community would be a sort of Heaven upon earth. What brotherly love would there prevail in it! and how sweet and savoury would the confidence between man and man be, and how grateful the satisfaction, with which they talked and listened to each other, free from the suspicion of not being believed, or the fear of being deceived! There we should survey at every step, the most pleasing spectacle the world can afford, that of a man’s opening the whole theatre of his soul to another. I do not think that Heaven adorned with all its splendor, or the spring embellished with all its flowers, could furnish a more delightful picture to the eyes of man, than that which would be presented to human curiosity, by the exposure of a variety of sentiments, affections, and passions, of those with whom we converse. In such a society, all men would enjoy a peaceable tranquillity of mind, without the dread, that by means of political arts, a traitor should impose himself upon them for a friend; that hypocrisy should usurp an unjust veneration; that applause should be tainted with the venom of flattery; that advice should be insincere, and calculated to promote the interest of him who gave it; or that correction should be the child of anger, and not the offspring of zeal. But unhappy for us, how distant are we from enjoying the blessings of such happy citizens! for we scarce are allowed an instant of relaxation, from the fears, inquietudes, and suspicions, that continually afflict us, and which are produced, by the experience we have, of the little sincerity there is to be met with in the world. Consider now, whether the frequency of lying, does not rob us of a great blessing, or to speak more properly, of many inestimable blessings.

SECT. IV.

X. The second reply I have to make to the before-named observation, is, that it very frequently happens, that those lies which are only looked upon as officious and jocose, are attended with pernicious consequences. What does it signify, that he who tells a lie did not do it with an intention to injure any one, if in reality the mischief follows? The emperor Theodosius the second, presented the empress Eudoxia with an apple of uncommon magnitude; and she afterwards gave it to Paulinus a learned and discreet man, whose conversation she was very fond of, and with whom, her correspondence was perfectly innocent. Paulinus, ignorant of the hand by which the apple was brought to the Empress, shewed it to the Emperor, and begged him to accept of it; the Emperor, recollecting that it was the same apple he had given the Empress, took an occasion to ask Eudoxia by surprize, what she had done with the apple? The question coming upon her unawares, and she, apprehensive the Emperor might be displeased with her for parting with the apple, answered she had eaten it. This, in the intention of Eudoxia, was a lie purely officious; but was attended with a most pernicious consequence, as it was the occasion of Paulinus being put to death; for Theodosius, suspecting the commerce between him and the Empress not to be very chaste, ordered him to be dispatched.

XI. Caligula having recalled from banishment, one who had been sentenced to that punishment by his predecessor, asked him how he employed his time while he was banished; and he, to recommend himself to the good graces of the Emperor, answered, that he employed the greatest part of it in praying to the gods for the death of Tiberius; because that would make way for his ascending the throne. What lie to all appearance could be more innocent than this? Yet in its consequences, it was very pernicious, for Caligula, taking it into his head, that those he had banished would occupy themselves in the same way, ordered them all to be put to death.

XII. I could give more examples of the same sort; but am aware, that it may be said in answer to them, that these are unforeseen accidents; but they notwithstanding, are the evil accidental consequences of lies, which although the person who tells them cannot foresee, are not unworthy the attention of the legislature; and of their taking measures to prevent the mischiefs arising from them, by assigning some species of punishment to all kinds of lies whatever. At least, the motive of preventing these accidental mischiefs, should operate jointly with the reasons we have already given, to induce the legislature, to fall upon some mode of punishment to curb the vice of lying.

SECT. V.

XIII. But the principal mischiefs that are produced by lies, which are called jocose and officious, do not only happen by accident, but such lies have in their own nature, a tendency to bring on those mischiefs. Of this sort are all flattering lies. Of the many apophthegms we meet with, that have been severe upon liars, there is no one seems to me to be better pointed, than that of Bion one of the seven wise men of Greece. He being one day asked, what animal he esteemed the most pernicious? answered, that to the world at large it was a tyrant, and in private life, a flatterer. For so it is, that flattery always, or nearly always, is pernicious to the person to whom it is addressed. The same man, who if the incense of unmerited applause was not offered to him, would be gentle, prudent, and modest, would by the application of it, be corrupted to such a degree, as to become proud, fierce, intolerable, and ridiculous. It is not one man only, that a flattering lie may be the undoing of, but it is also capable of ruining a whole kingdom; and this is a fatality that has often happened. Many princes, who have had a portion of the taint of ambition in their compositions, if there had not been those about them, who fomented this evil tendency of their minds, would have led happy and peaceable lives, but upon being persuaded by a flatterer, that their greatest glory consisted in adding new dominions to their crown, have become bloody scourges, both to their own subjects, and those of their neighbours.

XIV. The great Louis the Fourteenth, was without doubt, endued with excellent qualities; and was blessed with a sufficient understanding, to distinguish in what the most solid glory of a king consisted, and to be convinced, that it consisted in making his subjects happy. Notwithstanding which, through the whole of his dominions, the bulk of his people were oppressed, and groaned under the intolerable weight of the taxes, he found it necessary to load on them, in order to support the vast expences of the many wars he engaged in; to which grievance, might be added the lamentation and grief that was produced, by the loss of the infinite quantity of French blood that had deluged the fields in his quarrels. From whence did all this mischief proceed? Why from the venomous influence of poisonous flatterers, who persuaded him, that his greatest glory consisted in extending his dominions by his arms, and in making himself dreaded by all the neighbouring powers. They not only persuaded him to this, but even intimated to him, that these were the most effectual means, to render his own kingdom happy and flourishing. A flattering poet carried his servile complaisance so far, as to sing in his ear, that by pursuing this conduct, he would not only make his own people happy, but would make those so likewise, whom he conquered; and that they would hug the chains, with which he bound the little liberty they ever possessed; and what was beyond all the rest, this fulsome poet, went so far as to assert, that his desire of making them happy, was his only motive for bringing them under his yoke.

Il regne par amour dans les Villes conquises,

Et ne fait des sujets que pour les rendre heureux.

In the idea of this poet, desolating his own country by excessive contributions, carrying fire and sword into the territories of his neighbours, and sacrificing men by tens of thousands on the altars of Mars, is the most effectual way to make people happy; and that it is the great glory of a monarch, to be the pest of his own dominions, and those of all his neighbours. To these extravagant lengths has flattery been carried, and such are the unhappy effects it has produced.

XV. A flattering lie in private life, is not capable of doing so much mischief, if we consider it as standing by itself; but the mischief is infinitely extensive, that results from many of those lies put together; as the use of them is so general, that their numbers are nearly infinite. A learned modern French author, says, that the practice of the world, is made up of people’s occupying themselves continually in circulating false complaisance. Mankind depend reciprocally upon each other; and the poor man not only flatters the rich one, but the rich one flatters the poor one in his turn. The poor man courts the rich one, because he has need of his contributions; and the rich one endeavours to conciliate himself with the poor man, because he cannot subsist without the aid of his labour. The money they all go to market with, to gain and purchase the hearts of each other, is coined from the bullion of flattery; which is the falsest money that can be circulated, because in consequence of trafficking with it in this vile commerce, all sides are cheated.

SECT. VI.

XVI. But besides flattering lies, there are many others which are hurtful in various ways, notwithstanding we find them classed among the jocose and officious ones. A coward brags of his prowess, and martial deeds; a stander-by who hears him, and believes what he says, endeavours to make a friend of him, in hopes that he will bear him out in any fray or quarrel in which he should happen to be engaged; and in consequence of the confidence he puts in this support, he precipitates himself into some dispute, where his bravo deserts him, and he loses his life. An ignorant fellow, palms himself upon simple people for a learned man, and they, by believing all he says to be right and true, get their heads filled with extravagances, which they afterwards by venting in other companies, expose their folly, and so by a very easy and short method, acquire the reputation of blockheads.

A neglected or disappointed man, brags of the interest he has with a great person; and some who hear and believe what he says, fancy he will be a good channel through which they may convey an application to that great person, and induce him to assist them in a matter they have much at heart, and in which they are deeply interested, and in hopes of the great benefits they may derive from his friendship and aid, pay great court to him, and waste the greatest part of their substance in presents and bribes to him. A spiritual puffer, brags of the miracles he has seen and experienced of such and such a saint; which one way or other, is generally attended with prejudicial consequences to the cause of religion. The physician brags of a skill or knowledge he does not possess; a valetudinary person who hears him, believing him to be an Esculapius, surrenders himself without further enquiry to his management, and becomes a voluntary victim. A young mariner, brags of his great abilities and skill in navigating and conducting a ship, which afterwards being trusted to him, is shipwrecked and dashed to pieces, on some rock or shoal. The same dangers, in a greater or a less degree, and in proportion to the matters that are confided to their management, are we exposed to, by trusting vaunters in all arts and professions, who although they are unskilful, presume to boast of their great knowledge. I should never have done, was I to set about enumerating all the species of lies, which go under the name of jocose and officious, and which are attended with pernicious consequences.

SECT. VII.

XVII. But I cannot avoid making particular mention, of a certain species of lies, which find ample protection with, and pass current through the world, as if they were perfectly innocent; when in reality, they are extremely injurious to the public. I mean judicial lies; such, as when in stating a fact which gave rise to, or is the subject matter of a litigation, the parties interested, and those employed in the suit, disguise and disfigure it, to make it appear more favourable to their own side. This species of deceit, or as I may say lie, is so frequent, that we scarce see a cause in which it is not practised, and in which, both parties agree in the state of the facts, on which the matter in issue rests; and from hence arise the length of the pleadings, and the principal delay, and great expence of law-suits. Who can entertain a doubt, but that this is very injurious to the public? Yet there is nobody will attempt finding out a remedy for the evil. It might perhaps be asked, what remedy can be applied to it; but to this I should answer, the remedy that is made use of in Japan. Among those islanders, whose political government there is no doubt excells ours in many particulars, they punish a judicial lie, or one advanced in a legal process, with great severity; and the Algerines do the same. Whoever lies, or when he is brought before the Bey, or any of his judicial magistrates, to answer to a civil process, shall deny, if the prosecution is for a debt, that he owes the person suing for it the money in question, or if the prosecutor shall be found guilty of making a false or unjust demand, in either of these cases, he who shall be found to falsify, is adjudged to a rigorous bastinadoing. Thus these causes are speedily and safely determined, nor is there the least necessity for any writing in them, for the fear of that severe punishment, deters any man from demanding what is not due to him, and terrifies any one from denying a just debt. If something like this method was to be adopted among us, law-suits of this sort in Spain, would be as short as they are in those places. What delays law-suits, is not so much the difficulty of finding out what the law is with respect to the matter in question; but such delays arise for the most part, from fallacious suggestions, and evasive statings of facts. If the suitors, and all the parties concerned or employed in a cause, knew, that for every fallacy they advanced, they were to pay a large fine, they would be careful not to suggest or advance any thing, that was not simply and exactly true. By this means, the parties would soon be agreed as to the fact, and a determination would quickly be made in favour of the person who had the right of his side, and there would be nothing left to do, but for process to issue agreeable to the ordinary forms of law, in order to enforce and compleat the judgment. The doing of this, is seldom attended with much expence or delay; and by adopting the before-mentioned method of proceeding, there would soon be a stop put to all law-suits, that are founded on false or sinister suggestions; and people would not be near so exposed to have vexatious and roguish prosecutions commenced against them, as they are at present. The state or public at large, would be great gainers by such a regulation taking place, as the loss occasioned by the attendance, that many artificers, and people employed in useful branches of trade are obliged to give on courts of law would be avoided. So that the whole loss that would be incurred by adopting this method, would fall on the advocates, solicitors, and other men of the law; but this would be amply compensated for to the state, by the increase it would occasion of professors in useful arts.

XVIII. It is true, that our laws in Spain have not been so deficient in this respect, as not to have assigned certain punishments in various cases to judicial lies. One of those which is to be found among the laws which we term the laws de Partida seems to me admirably calculated to suppress this evil. It runs thus: He of whom any thing is demanded judicially by another person, as his property, who shall deny the person making the demand was ever possessed of it, shall, if it is afterwards proved that the person who makes the demand was possessed of it, be obliged to surrender it to him who demands it, although the demander should not be able to prove the thing ever was his property. But I could wish in the first place, that both this law, and all others of the same sort, should be extended to more cases than they take in, or to speak more properly, to all cases whatever; so that every judicial lie should be liable to a punishment, proportioned to the mischief it might be attended with. I would wish secondly, that some lawyers in expounding those laws, had given a larger extent to them, and not have limited the operation of them but to few cases; for we have reason to apprehend, that it is in consequence of these expositions, that we very rarely or never, have seen any one punished for this offence, at least I do not remember to have ever known, or to have ever heard of any one that was punished for it. The greatest part of the Judges, although there may appear but little reason for their acting with lenity, are apt to lean to the compassionate side; but it seems to me, that it would be for the good of the public, if upon these occasions, they would exercise a proper degree of severity.

SECT. VIII.

XIX. Finally, by contemplating a lie in all its extent, I find it so inconvenient to the life of man, that I am disposed to think the whole rigour of the laws should be levelled against it, and that it should be treated as a most pestiferous enemy to human society. Zoroaster the famous legislator of the Persians, or Zerduscht, which according to the learned Thomas Hyde was his name, in which sentiment Thomas Stanley differs but little from him, he writing it Zaraduissit; from all which we may conclude, that the changing his name to Zoroaster, was an alteration made by the Greeks to make it correspond the better with their own language; but to have done with criticising upon his name, he in the statutes he formed for the government of that nation, estimated a lie, as one of the most serious crimes a man could commit. I must confess; that he erred in this as a Theologian; but that he was quite right, and acted wisely as a politician; because no better means can be fallen upon, to make men live happy in society, than that of introducing among them, an utter abhorrence of a lie; and on the other hand, if the great propensity in man to lying is not curbed, although the rest of the laws should be ever so pious and just, they will not be able to prevent innumerable mischiefs and disorders.

SECT. IX.

XX. It is only in one particular instance, that I look upon lying to be sufferable; and that is, when there is no fence to resist the impertinent and officious enquiries of people into secrets, that are trusted to a man in confidence. I state the case thus: a friend of mine, for the sake of asking my advice, informs me in confidence of a crime that he has committed. A person in power suspects him to be the man who committed the crime, and by making an improper use of his authority, demands of me, whether I do not know that such a person committed such a crime. I will suppose for argument’s sake, that he is a person of such penetration, that I could not deceive him by evasions, and giving answers, that amounted to my neither owning nor denying that I knew any thing of it; and that my not giving a positive answer, would only tend to confirm him in the opinion that my friend had actually committed the crime he suspected him of; so that I am drove to the necessity of answering positively, yes, or no. It is certain in such a case, that I am bound by the laws of friendship, fidelity, charity and justice, not to reveal the secret confided to me. How then am I to act in such a pressing exigency?

XXI. After stating a variety of different opinions of Theologians, and other eminent men upon cases of this sort, which I shall omit to insert, as I apprehend they would rather seem tedious, than afford either entertainment or instruction to the reader; Father Feyjoo proceeds thus: But I do not chuse to take any part in this question, as it would require more time to discuss, than I at present have leisure to bestow upon it; and therefore shall waive entering into it, and returning to the subject of my discourse, shall say, that admitting a man, upon being unfairly pressed, cannot avoid disclosing a secret which has been confided to him, without telling a lie, those lies ought to be tolerated by human society, and the punishment of them should be left to God alone, for that a republic or state is exposed to no inconvenience from them; and that on the contrary, daily mischiefs might result to it, by not preventing the evil effects, of the malicious, and vicious curiosity of men, who are impertinently fond of prying into other people’s secrets. And he who makes these enquiries, should blame himself for any imposition or deceit that happens in consequence of them, and not the person who told the lie, for the inquisitor is the aggressor in this case, as he may be termed an invader of other people’s secrets, which he had improperly, and without any right so to do, taken upon him officiously to pry into.

ON
THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY,
AND
National Prejudice or Prepossession.

SECT. I.

I. I Seek in men that love of their country, which I find so much celebrated in books, but I do not meet with it; I mean that just, noble and virtuous love, which they owe to their country. In some, I see no kind of affection for their country at all; in others, I perceive only a criminal affection, which is vulgarly called national prejudice.

II. I do not deny, that by turning over history, you will find thousands of victims sacrificed to this idol. What war is undertaken without this specious pretence? What field do we see drenched with human blood, that posterity, over the carcases from whence it flowed, has not fixed the honourable inscription, that those men lost their lives for the good of their country? But if we examine things critically, we shall find the world is much mistaken, in thinking there have been so many, or so refined sacrifices made to this imaginary deity. Let us figure to ourselves a republic, armed for a war, undertaken on the principle of a just defence; and let us also proceed to examine by the light of reason, the impulse which animates men’s hearts to expose their lives in the quarrel. Among the private men, some inlist for the pay and the plunder, others with the hopes of bettering their fortunes, and acquiring military honour and preferment; but the greatest part, from motives of obedience, and fear of the Prince or the General. He who commands the army, is instigated by his interest and his glory. The Prince, or Chief Magistrate, who is at a distance from the danger, acts more for the sake of maintaining his dominion, than for supporting the republic. Now admitting that all these people should find it more for their interest to retire to their houses, than to defend the walls, you would hardly see ten men left on the ramparts.

III. Even those feats of prowess of the antients, which are so blazoned and immortalized by fame, as the ultimate exertions of zeal for the public good, were more probably generated by ambition, and the love of glory, than by the love of their country; and I am inclined to think, that if there had not been witnesses present, to have handed down to posterity an account of their exploits, that from a principle of love to his country, neither Curtius would have precipitated himself into the pit, nor Marcus Attilius Regulus have submitted to die a lingering death in an iron cage; nor would the twin brothers, for the sake of extending the boundaries of Carthage, have consented to be buried alive. The incitement of posthumous fame had great influence among the Gentiles; and it might also happen, that some rushed on a violent death, not so much with a view of acquiring posthumous fame, as from the mad vanity of seeing themselves admired and applauded for a few instants of their lives, of which Lucian gives us a striking example, in the death that was submitted to by the philosopher Peregrinus.

IV. Among the Romans, the love of their country, was so much in vogue and so prevalent, that it seemed as if this noble inclination was the soul of their whole republic. But what appears to me is, that the Romans themselves, on account of Cato’s constant and steady attachment to the public, looked upon him as a very uncommon man, and as one descended from Heaven. It may be said of all the rest of them, almost without exception, that in serving their country, they sought more their own exaltation than the public utility. They gave Cicero the glorious surname of father of his country, for the successful and vigorous opposition he made to Catiline’s conspiracy. This in appearance was a great merit, although in reality it was but an equivocal one; for not only the success of Cicero’s attaining the consulate, depended upon that fury’s not carrying his point, but his life also; for it is true, that when afterwards Cæsar tyrannized over the republic, Cicero accommodated himself very well with him. The subornations of Jugurtha, King of Numidia, shewed abundantly, what sort of spirit influenced the Roman senate; which, contrary to the interest of the republic, tolerated in that penetrating and violent Prince, many grave and pernicious evils, because every new insolence he committed, was accompanied with a new present to the senators. He was at last brought to Rome, and detained there; and although he was so far from correcting or reforming his old practices, that within the city itself, he committed new and enormous offences; by the favour of gold, he was permitted to go at large, which in the delinquent himself begot such a contempt of that government, that when he left Rome, after getting at a little distance from the city, he turned about, and looking at it with disdain, called it a venal city, adding, that it would soon perish, if any one could find money enough to pay the price of its ruin: Urbem venalem, et mature perituram, si emptorem invenirit (Sallust in Jugurtha). The same thing, and even more pointedly, was said by Petronius:

Venalis populus, venalis curia patrem.

This is a picture of the love of their country so celebrated among the Romans, and to which many at this day, judge they owed the enormous extension of the Roman empire.

SECT. II.

V. Our opinion of this matter differs greatly from that of the bulk of mankind, by whom it is generally believed, the love of their country is natural to, and transcendent in all men; and as a proof of it, they alledge the repugnance, which all, or nearly all men feel at abandoning the country in which they were born, to go and reside in any other whatever; but I find here a great equivocation, and that what men call the love of their country, is in reality, nothing else but the love of their own convenience. There is no man who does not leave his own country cheerfully, when he has expectations by going to another of mending his fortune; and examples of this sort are seen every day. Of all the fables that have been fabricated by the poets, there is no one appears to be more void of probability, than that of Ulysses’s having preferred the dreary and unpleasant rocks and craigs of his own country Ithaca, to the immortality full of delights, which was offered him by the nymph Calipso, upon condition that he would come and live with her in the island of Ogygia.

VI. I may be told, that the Scythians, as Ovid testifies, fled from the delicacies of Rome, to the asperities of their own frozen soil; that the Laplanders, maugre all the conveniences and accommodations that were offered them at Vienna, sighed to return to their own poor steril country; and that but a few years ago, a Canadian savage who was brought to Paris, where he was furnished with every possible convenience, lived there in a seeming state of affliction and melancholy.

VII. I say in answer to all this, that it is true; but it is also true, that these men live with more convenience to themselves in Scythia, in Lapland, and in Canada, than in Vienna, at Paris, or in Rome. Habituated to the food of their country, however hard and coarse it may appear to us, they find it both grateful and salutary. They are born among snow, and live pleasantly in the midst of it; and as we cannot bear the cold of northern regions, they cannot endure the heat of southern ones. Their mode of government, is suited to their tempers and dispositions, and although the form is but indifferent, they being reconciled to it by custom, believe that nature itself never dictated any other. Our policy seems as barbarous to them, as theirs does to us. Here, we think it impossible to live without a house or permanent abode; they look upon this as a voluntary imprisonment, and regard it as much more convenient, to be at liberty to change their habitation, when, and unto wherever it is most agreeable to them, fabricating it in the evening, for the use of the night and the next day, either in the valley, on the side of the mountain, or in the plain. The accommodation afforded by changing situations as the seasons of the year vary, is enjoyed among us, by none but the great and the opulent; among those barbarians, there is no one who does not enjoy it; and I must confess for myself, that I look upon a man’s having power, whenever he pleases, to remove from a disagreeable neighbourhood, and settle himself in one he likes better, as a very enviable happiness.

VIII. Olaus Rudbec, a noble Swede, who had travelled a great deal through the northern regions, in a book that he wrote, intitled Lapland Illustrated, says, that the inhabitants of it, are so convinced of the advantages of their situation, that they would not exchange their own, for all the countries in the world. In fact, they possess some benefits or conveniencies in it, which are not imaginary, but real. That country, produces some regaling fruits, although they are different from ours; and the abundance of game and fish in it, all of them remarkably fine flavoured, is immense. The winters, which with us are so disagreeably damp and rainy, are there clear and serene; from whence it follows, that the natives are active, healthy, and robust. Thunder storms are scarce ever known in that region, nor is there a venomous snake to be found in all the country. They live also exempt from those two great scourges of Heaven, war and pestilence, their climate defending them from both these visitations, it being as obnoxious to strangers and the plague, as it is healthy to the natives. The snow does not incommode them, for by their natural agility, added to art and contrivance they fly over the tops of the snowy heights like crows. The multitude of white bears with which the country abounds, serves them for amusement and diversion; for they are so dextrous in combating these fierce animals, that there is scarce a Laplander, who does not kill many of them in a year, although it is very rare, that a Laplander is ever killed by one of them.

IX. We may add, that the long nights in those subpolar regions, of which they give us so horrible a representation, are not so dismal as they are imagined to be. They hardly experience total darkness there above one whole month; the reason is, because the sun descends below his horizon only twenty-three degrees and a half; and according to the computation of astronomers, the twilight may be perceived at eighteen degrees of depression. Neither does the apparent absence of the sun continue for six months, as it is commonly thought, but for five only, for on account of the great refraction of the rays in that atmosphere, you see the sun, half a month before it mounts above the horizon, and for the same space of time after it descends below it. Some Dutchmen in a northern voyage they made in 1596, being in the latitude of 76, were vastly astonished at seeing the sun fifteen or sixteen days before they expected to see it. In our discourse on mathematical paradoxes, we explained this phænomenon, and shewed, that by attending to, and computing all things, those who inhabit near the Poles, enjoy the light of the sun for a greater portion of the year, than those who live in the temperate and torrid zones; therefore what is said of the equal repartition of light all over the world, although it is generally assented to, is not true.

X. We much admire, and live very happily on the aliments we commonly use; but there is no nation, to which the same thing does not happen. The people of the northern regions, find the flesh of bears, wolves, and foxes, very savoury and regaling. The Tartars are fond of horse-flesh; the Arabs of the flesh of camels; and the Africans and Chinese, of that of dogs; for they both eat and sell them in the markets as we do pig pork. In some regions of Africa, they eat monkies, crocodiles, and serpents; and Scaliger says, that in various parts of the east, bats are esteemed as regaling a dish, as chickens are with us.

XI. The same that happens in point of food, happens with respect to everything else, for whether it proceeds from the force of habit or the proportion of temperament or disposition of each nation respectively, or that things of the same species, have different qualities in different countries, which make them more or less commodious or agreeable; every one finds himself better satisfied with the things of his own country, than with those of a foreign one, and he is therefore attached to it, because he feels his own convenience better gratified there, and his partiality for it is not influenced by the supposed love of his country.

XII. The inhabitants of the Marian islands, which are so called from Dona Mariana of Austria, who sent missionaries among them for their conversion, made no use of, nor had any knowledge of fire. Who, however, would venture to assert, that this element was not indispensably necessary to human life, or that there was any nation whatever, which could subsist without it? But notwithstanding this, those islanders, without fire, lived contented and happy. They were not sensible of the want of it, because they did not know it. Roots, fruit, and crude fish, were all their aliment; and still they were more healthy and robust than we, for living to a hundred years of age, was very frequent and common among them.

XIII. The force of custom is amazingly powerful, for it is capable of not only making the greatest asperities sufferable, but by peoples being familiarized to them, it also causes their being satisfied under them. He who was not well apprized of this truth, would be led to think what passed between Esteban King of Poland, and the Peasants of Livonia, incredible. This glorious Prince having observed, that these poor people were cruelly and very ill-treated by the nobles of the province, convened them together, and after condoling with them on their misery, told them, he proposed to make their subjection less severe and easier to be tolerated, by restraining the exercise of power in the nobility, within more mild and moderate bounds; but wonderful to relate, instead of seeming sensible of his benevolence, and embracing the offer he made them, they threw themselves at his feet, and begged he would not alter their customs, with which, through long usage, they were quite satisfied. What will not the force of habit conquer, if it is capable of making tyranny agreeable! Join to this, the circumstance of the Muscovite women, who are not happy or contented, unless their husbands, without their giving them any occasion for it, beat or cudgel them every day, regarding this unprovoked ill-treatment, as a token of their great love for them.

XIV. We may add to the foregoing remarks, that an uniformity of language, religion, and customs, makes the intercourse with our countrymen grateful and pleasing, as a diversity in those matters, makes the society of strangers aukward and unentertaining. Our particular connections and personal friendships also, tend to produce the same effect; and generally speaking, the love of convenience, and of that private ease and happiness, which every man finds in his own country, is what attracts him to, and retains him in it, and not the love of the country itself. He who should experience better personal accommodation in another region, would do as St. Peter did, who, as soon as he found himself happily situated on Mount Tabor, resolved to fix his lasting abode on that eminence, and to abandon for good and all the valley in which he was born.

SECT. III.

XV. It is also true, that not only real, but imaginary conveniences, have their influence, to promote an adherence to our country. Entertaining a flattering opinion of the country in which we were born, and preferring it to all others in the world, is one of the most common of all common errors. There is scarce any man, and among the lower class of people not a single one, who does not think his own country the first production of nature, and abounding in a three-fold proportion, with all the goods she distributes, either with respect to the genius or ability of the natives, the fertility of the soil, or the happiness of the climate. To understandings of inferior rank, near objects are represented as by the corporeal eye, which although they are really less, appear larger than things at a distance. In his nation only, are to be found learned and wise men, those of other kingdoms are hardly civilized; the customs of his country only are rational, and the language of it is the only soft and sufferable one; the hearing a stranger speak, as effectually excites them to laughter, as seeing Jack Pudding on a stage; his nation only abounds in riches, and the Prince of it is the only powerful one. At the end of the last century, when the arms of France were so prevalent, a junto of people at Salamanca being talking on this subject, a low Portugueze who was among them, with an air of great sagacity and importance, made the following political remark: There is certainly now no Prince in Europe capable of resisting the King of France, except the King of Portugal. But what Michael Montona, in his treatise intitled Moral Reflections, relates of a rustic Savoyard, is more extravagant still, who said, I don’t believe the King of France has the ability he is said to have, for if that was the case, he would have negotiated with our Duke long ago, about making him his Major Domo. Nearly after this manner, do all the low vulgar discourse of the things of their own country.

XVI. Neither are many of those exempted from so gross an error, although it is in a less degree, who by their birth or professions, are much superior to the lower class of people. The number of vulgar who do not associate with the common herd, but are intruded among people of understanding, is infinite. How many men of school learning, whose heads were stored with texts, have I seen filled with the caprice, that our nation is the only seat of knowledge and learning, and that in other countries, they print nothing but puerilities and bagatelles, more especially if they write in their own native idiom; nor does it appear to them, that any thing worth reading, can be published in French or Italian, which is in a manner maintaining, that the most important truths can’t be expressed or explained in other languages, although it is certain, the Apostles expounded the most essential and sublime ones in all tongues. But strangers are sufficiently revenged on us for this conceitedness, for in return for our considering them as people of little learning, they look upon us as illiberal and barbarous. Thus in all countries, you will find this piece of bad road to travel through, which is worn in holes and made rough, by the hacknied passage of carriages, loaded with the high notions and opinions the natives have of themselves, and the low ones they entertain of strangers.

SECT. IV.

XVII. The worst is, that those who do not think with the vulgar, talk like the vulgar. This proceeds, from what we call national passion or prejudice, the legitimate child of vanity, and emulation. Vanity teaches us, that we are interested in our nation being esteemed superior to all others, because every individual looks upon himself as a partaker in the pre-eminence; and emulation causes us to view strangers, especially those who are nearest us, with a jealous eye, and also inclines us to wish their abasement for our own security. From both these motives, people attribute to their own country, a thousand feigned excellencies, although at the time they mention them, they know they are fictitious.

XVIII. This abuse, has filled the world with lyes, and has corrupted the faith of almost all histories. When the glory of his own nation influences him, you will hardly find an historian competently sincere. Plutarch was one of the most impartial writers of antiquity; notwithstanding which, the love of his country, in matters that related to it, made him deviate not a little from his candour; for, as the illustrious Cano remarks, he aggrandizes the events and things appertaining to Greece, beyond their just proportion. And John Bodin observes, that upon examining his lives, you will find, although his comparisons between Greek heroes and Greek heroes, and between Roman and Roman ones, were rightly and fairly made; that when he came to draw the parallel between Greeks and Romans, he warped in favour of his own countrymen.

XIX. I have always admired Titus Livius, not only for his eminent discretion, method, and judgment, but also for his veracity. He does not conceal or dissemble the failings of the Romans, when in the course of his history they come in the way of his pen; but on the contrary he lays them open and exposes them; and what is more, at the hazard of offending Augustus, he highly extolled Pompey, and blazoned his character as preferrable to Cæsar’s, which in those times amounted to the same thing, as declaring himself a zealous republican. Notwithstanding this, I observe a fault in this prince of historians, which if it did not proceed from want of his adverting to, or being aware of it, we must confess to be the effect of his passion for the marvellous. In the two first ages of their republic, he gives an account of as many battles gained, and as many cities taken by the Romans, as would be sufficient to compleat the conquest of a vast empire; but at the end of this time, we see that republic confined within such narrow bounds, that few less states are at this day to be found in all Italy, which is a proof that the antecedent victories, were not so many nor so great in the original, as they are represented to be in the copy.

XX. There is scarce one of the modern historians I have read, in whom I have not observed the same inconsistency. If they relate the events of a long war, they paint them so favourably to their own side, that the reader from those premises, is induced to promise himself, that it will end in an advantageous peace, in which his nation will give the law to the enemy; but as the premises are false, the conclusion does not follow, and in the end, he finds things turn out quite contrary to what he expected.

XXI. I am not insensible, that during a war, such sort of lies may be politically necessary; therefore in all countries, they print Gazettes with privilege; I don’t say of lying, but of colouring events, so that they should not dishearten, but seem encouraging to the people; and in their description of things, they imitate the artifice of Apelles, who painted Antigonus in profile, to conceal his being blind of one eye; I mean, that they display the favourable side of events, and cover the adverse one by a deception. I say, that policy requires this should be done in Gazettes, to prevent the subjects being dismayed by the adverse strokes of fortune; but in books that are written many years after the transactions, what danger is there in speaking the truth?

XXII. The case is, that although none could happen to the public by it, the writer himself who should make the attempt, would be exposed to a great deal. The poor historians, scarce dare to do otherwise than disguise such truths, as are not advantageous to their countrymen. They must either flatter their own nation, or lay down the pen; for if they fail to do this, they will be branded with the epithet of being disaffected to their country. I lament most heartily the lot of father Mariana; this very learned Jesuit, over and above possessing the other talents necessary for an historian, was exceedingly sincere and ingenuous; but this illustrious quality, which aggrandized his glory with found critics, diminished it among the vulgar of Spain; they said he had not a Spanish heart, and that his affections and his pen were inimical to his country; and as heretofore, the extreme rigour of Septimus Severus to the Romans, was attributed to his being of African extraction by his father’s side, they imputed to father Mariana, a certain kind of pique against the Spaniards, and assigned as the cause of it, I don’t know whether with truth or not, his being of French descent on the side of his mother. They would have had him relate events, not as they happened, but in such a way as should seem most pleasing to them; and by such as are fond of adulation, the man who is not a flatterer is regarded as an enemy. But the same thing which made this great man ill looked upon in Spain, gained him the highest eulogiums from the most eminent personages in Europe: the following, bestowed on him by the great Cardinal Baronius, is sufficient to establish his honour and his fame: Father John Mariana, a scrupulous lover of the truth, an excellent pattern and sectary of virtue, a worthy professor among the society of Jesus, and a Spaniard by birth, but void of all national passion or prejudice, in a learned and elegant stile, wrote a most perfect and faithful history of Spain. (Baron. ad ann. Christi 688.)

XXIII. It is not only in Spain, that they would have their historians panegyrists, for the same thing happens in other countries. The King of England, sent for the famous Gregory Leti, to write the history of that kingdom; but he having protested he would not take pen in hand, unless he was allowed to speak the truth; the King, to encourage him to engage in the undertaking, assured him, that he should be permitted to comply with this indispensable obligation, upon which, he set to work, and compiled his history from the best authorities, and the most faithful monuments and records he could discover; but the natives having found reason to be dissatisfied with many of the facts laid open in it, the King repented of the permission he had given him, the copies were all called in by the procurement of administration, and the historian obliged to leave England, but ill recompensed for his trouble.

XXIV. We Spaniards, complain much of the French authors, alledging, that from their hatred to us, they disfigure transactions which are glorious to our nation, and aggrandize in proportion, such as are favourable to their own. This complaint is reciprocal, and I believe well founded on both sides. When there have been frequent wars between two nations, you will always observe, that from the jealousies and animosities these have produced, the wars are constantly kept up in the writings of the authors of both kingdoms; for united as in the arrow, the feather follows the impetus of the steel.

XXV. But as a tribute due to truth and justice, I can’t avoid taking notice in this place, of an unjust accusation, which has been fulminated by our countrymen against the authors of that nation. They say, that in relating the events of that kingdom in the reign of Francis the first, they are either silent, or deny the imprisonment of that King at the battle of Pavia. This complaint has not the least foundation, for I have read accounts of this advantage of our arms in various French authors, and even in one of them, I saw celebrated the piquant answer of a French lady to King Francis, on the event of his imprisonment. The King in a satyrical manner, that insinuated Time had robbed her of her charms, said to her, Madam, how long is it since you came from the land of Beauty? To which the lady readily answered, Ever since you came from the country of Pavia.

XXVI. Where I find the most reason for the Spaniards to be angry with the French authors, is in their denying the coming of St. James to Spain, and in their refusing to acknowledge that his sacred body is deposited there; but these pretensions are more the offspring of criticism than national jealousy, and never were material objects of emulation between the two nations. It is on the subject of the justice of wars, and the advantages gained in the prosecution of them, that the pens engage with the most acrimony.

SECT. V.

XXVII. From this spirit of national prejudice, which prevails in almost all histories, it happens, that with respect to an infinite number of facts, the things which are past seem as uncertain to us, as those which are to come. I acknowledge, that the historical Pyrrhonism of Campanela was extravagant, who carried his want of confidence in history to such a point, as to say, he doubted whether there ever was an Emperor in the world named Charles the Great. But with respect to those events, which the historians of one nation affirm, and those of another deny; and as there are many such events, it will be prudent for us to suspend our judgment, till some well-informed third person shall decide upon them; for, excited either by vanity or inclination, or led by condescension, every one goes on to flatter his own nation; the light of truth at the same time, being concealed from the eyes of the people, by the smoke of the incense of flattery, and the harmony of adulation, preventing their listening to the voice of reason.

XXVIII. I shall not dwell upon those authors, who carried the passion for their country, to lengths of extravagance, such as Goropius Becanus, a native of Brabant, who very deliberately endeavoured to prove, that the Flemish tongue was the first in the world; and Olaus Rudbec, a Swede, who, in a book he wrote on purpose, tried to evince, that all which the antients had said of the Fortunate Islands, the garden of the Hesperides and Elysian fields, alluded to Sweden, pronouncing at the same time, his own country to be the source and perfection of European learning; and asserting, that letters and the art of writing, did not descend from Phœnicia to Greece, but from Phœnicia to Sweden; in the prosecution of which undertaking, he rummaged out, and expended in waste, much hidden learning.

XXIX. It may also be proper to observe here, that another opposite vicious extreme, if it is not derived from, arises in consequence of this prejudice. It has been remarked by some, of a modern Spanish author, that he has been guilty of unjustly denying to Spain, the honour of some glorious antiquities, with a view of being applauded as a sincere man among strangers. Perhaps this was not his motive, but that his criticism was defective, for want of being tempered with a due mixture of the indulgent and the severe; and that to avoid the imputation of flattery, he ran into the opposite offensive extreme; for

Dum vitant stulti vitia, in contraria currunt.

SECT. VI.

XXX. But the national prejudice of which we have spoken hitherto, is, if we may so call it, an innocent vice compared to another, which by being more common, is more pernicious. I speak of that preposterous affection, which is not relative to a republic at large, but applies to a particular district or territory which we call our own. I do not deny, that by the term country, is understood not only the republic or state of which we are members, and which may be called our common country, but also the province, diocese, city or district, where every one drew his first breath, and which on that account may be termed his particular country; but it is certain, the phrase “love of our country,” cannot be supposed to be confined or apply to our country according to this second definition, but according to the first; for that is the sense, in which it is recommended and enforced, by examples, persuasions, and apophthegms, of historians, orators, and philosophers. The country to which we should sacrifice our lives in heroic arms, and which we ought to esteem superior to all our private interests, and as the creditor of all our possible obsequies and services, is that body of state, under which we are united in one civil government, and protected by, and bound to the observance of the same laws. Thus Spain is the proper object of the love of a Spaniard, France of a Frenchman, and Poland of a Polander. But this should be understood, not to relate to such people, who by migrating to, and settling in other countries, make themselves members of other states, in which case, the duty they owe to the country where they reside, and are protected, ought to prevail over the affection they bear to the country in which they were born; and on this distinction, we shall in the sequel make an important remark. The dividing of a kingdom into provinces or districts, which is done for the convenience of administering justice, and conducting other business of government, has a material influence over, and is in a great measure the cause of dividing men’s hearts.

XXXI. The particular or limited love of one’s country, instead of being useful to a state, is in many respects injurious and hurtful, because it induces a division in the minds of those, who ought to be reciprocally united for the sake of making more firm and stable, the bond of common society; and because also this limited love of our country, is an incentive to civil wars, and revolts against the sovereign power; for always when a particular province or district fancies itself aggrieved, all the individuals of it think the redressing the grievances of their injured country, an obligation superior to all others; and finally, this confined principle, is an obstacle to the right administration of justice among all classes of people, and in every judicial and ministerial department.

XXXII. This last inconvenience is so common and apparent, as to be hidden from no man; and what is worse, no one endeavours to hide it. This pestilence of partiality to countrymen is, to the perversion and corruption of good regulation, introduced and cherished in the most bare-faced manner, into those departments which are vested with the power of distributing honourable and useful employments. What sanctuary has been able to protect or preserve us, from the violencies of this declared enemy of reason and equity? How many hearts, inaccessible to the temptations of gold, insensible to the allurements of ambition, intrepid, and proof against the threats of power, have suffered themselves to be miserably deluded and perverted, by national passion? Now-a-days, if a man is a candidate for an office or employment, he always reckons upon as many protectors as he has countrymen, who have any concern or interest in the disposal of it. His pretensions being unreasonable, to a man swayed by national or provincial prejudice, are no objection, because the only merit with such a one, is the candidate’s being his countryman. We have seen men, in other respects of unimpeachable integrity, who were much infected with this malady; from hence I have been inclined to conclude, that this is an infernal machine, artfully invented by the Devil, to subdue those souls, who by all other ways are invincible; but alas, Achilles, although in one little part only, you are vulnerable, what does it avail you, if Paris, in shooting the arrow, has the skill and address to hit that little part?

SECT. VII.

XXXIII. I do not condemn that affection for our native soil, which does not operate to prejudice a third person. Aristotle’s employing his favour with Alexander, to procure the rebuilding the town of Stagira his native country, ruined by the soldiers of Philip, always appeared to me right and proper; and I condemn the indifference of Crates, whose city had suffered the same misfortune, for having, when Alexander asked him if he was desirous it should be rebuilt, answered, Of what use would the rebuilding it be, if there should come another Alexander to destroy it afresh? How exceedingly and ridiculously affected was the behaviour of that philosopher, who lost to his countrymen so signal a benefit, for the sake of a cold apophthegm? The misfortune was, that no other opportune sentence of a contrary tendency occurred to the philosopher just at that time; for if there had, he would have accepted the favour offered by Alexander. I have observed, that there are no people more unfit to be consulted upon serious and weighty points of business, than those who pride themselves in speaking with grace and elegance; for they are always apt to warp their opinion towards that side, on which a striking expression occurs to them, and provided they deliver themselves with air and brilliancy, they do not embarrass themselves about a little false reasoning.

XXXIV. I say once more, that I do not condemn any innocent or moderate affection for our native land. A love extremely soft and tender, is better suited to women, and more proper for children just rising up in the world, than for men; and therefore I am of opinion, the divine Homer humanizes Ulysses to a degree of excess, when he paints him, amidst all the regales of Pheacia, panting and pining, to see the smoke arise on the mountains of Ithaca, his own country:

Exoptans oculis surgentem cernere fumum

Natalis terræ.

This tenderness in one of the wisest of the Greeks was very puerile; but with all, there is not much inconvenience in viewing with tenderness the smoke of one’s country, provided the smoke does not blind the eyes of him who looks at it. Let him view the smoke of his own country; but alas, do not let him prefer it to the light and splendour of foreign ones; but this is what we see every day. He who by being placed at the head of an eminent department, has the disposal of various employments at his pleasure, can scarce find any persons properly qualified for those employments, but people of his own country. In vain it is represented to him, that these men are unfit to fill the post, and that there are others better qualified. He finds the smoke of his country so grateful an aromatick, that he would abandon for it the most brilliant lights of other places. O how strangely does this smoke blind men’s eyes! How wonderfully does it disorder and affect their heads!

XXXV. In truth, some sin in this particular with their eyes wide open; I speak of those, who with the view of forming a party to support their authority, promote as many of their countrymen as they possibly can, without paying the least attention to merit. This is not manifesting their love to their country, but to themselves, and is benefiting their own soil, as the earth is benefited by the labour of the husbandman, who does not bestow it with a view of improving the land, but of advantaging himself. These are open and declared enemies of a republic, because it being next to impossible, that one district can furnish people sufficiently qualified for such a variety of employments, the places are filled with unworthy objects; this, if it is not the greatest evil that can befall a state, at least ultimately disposes towards producing such an evil.

XXXVI. Of those, who exercise their passion for their countrymen, from a belief that they are the most deserving, I am at a loss what to say, although the motive of their partiality in this matter frequently appears to me a voluntary blindness; and if that is the case, they do not stand excused. When the excess of merit in the person set aside, is so notoriously superior to that of the man promoted, that it is manifest to all the world, except to him who dispensed the preferment, what doubt can there be, that he shut his eyes to avoid seeing it? or else, that the microscope of his passion magnified to his view, the virtues of the man preferred, and the defects of him neglected? There is scarce any man, who has not a portion of good and bad in his composition; a man without fault would be a miracle, and one without a single virtue would be a monster. This made St. Austin say, that gigantic vice was as rare to be found among us, as eminent virtue: Sicut magna pietas paucorum est, ita et magna impietas nihilominus paucorum est. (Serm. 10. de verbis Domini.) What happens then is, that passion, being to chuse between persons of unequal merit, magnifies what is good in the bad man, and also what is bad in the good one. There is not a more unfaithful balance to weigh merit in, than that of passion and prejudice; but this is what men commonly use for the purpose. This caused David to say, men are false in their balances: Mendaces filii hominum in stateris. Job, to express the greatness and power of God, says, that he is able to give weight to the wind: qui fecit ventis pondus. But I am not clear in what sense to understand this, because I also see, that the powerful of the world in the balance of their passion, frequently give weight, and much weight to the air. What do you see in that person they have just raised? Nothing solid, nothing but air and vanity; but to this air, the great man who exalted him gave more weight, than to the gold of the other person who was his competitor for the office. But how was this done? Why, together with the air, he put earth into the scale, I mean the earth of the country in which he was born, and this earth weighs very heavy in that balance.

XXXVII. It happens in the contentions about occupying places, as it happened in the conflict between Hercules and Antæus. Hercules was much more valiant and powerful than the other, and threw him repeatedly to the ground; but the falls, enabled Antæus to renew the combat with redoubled vigour, because by his contact with the earth, his strength was doubled. The explanation of the matter is this: The antients under the veil of fables, concealed physical and moral maxims, and according to the heathen mythology, which was the term they used to signify the exposition of those mysterious fictions, Antæus was the son of the Earth. I believe, to make this fable apply to the present question, we need say no more, than that as things go in the world, every country by its recommendation, gives strength to its sons to overcome strangers, although they are people of superior abilities and vigour. Hercules lifted Antæus from the ground, and kept him suspended in the air, by which means he found no difficulty in overcoming him. It were much to be wished, that upon many occasions, in order to determine the worth of people, they should be examined divested of all favour and advantage they can derive from belonging to a particular country, for then it would be much better known to whom the preference is due.

SECT. VIII.

XXXVIII. These men of national genius and prejudice, whose spirits are all flesh and blood, and whose breasts are always in contact with the earth, like that of a snake, do in a community, what the old serpent did in paradise, or as Luzbel did in Heaven, that is, introduce into it, seditions, revolts, schisms, and battles. No fire assails a civil edifice so violently, as the flame of national passion, for it consumes the very stones of the fabric, levels merit to the ground, and makes reason tremble, excites tumults and insults, and makes way for the triumphant entry of ambition. Those hearts which ought to be cordially united by the bond of brotherly love, that bond being broken asunder, are miserably divided, and breathe nothing but vengeance and rancour. They form parties, inlist auxiliaries, and range their forces; but alas! in the end both the victors and vanquished are unfortunate and unhappy; the last lose the day and their patience, and the first by their conquest lose themselves.

XXXIX. In no words of sacred writ, is a call to a generous and virtuous life painted in more lively colours, than in those of the Psalmist, Psalm xliv. Mark me, my Son, incline your ear, and attend to my words, you must forget your townsmen, and the house of your father. But how greatly does he deviate from the precept contained in this admonition, who so far from forgetting his townsmen, and the house of his father, treasures up in his heart and memory, not only a house or a town, but a whole province or kingdom.

XL. Alexander, after he had conquered Persia, caused the Macedonian soldiers to marry Persian women, to the end, says Plutarch, that forgetting their native land, they should only esteem as their countrymen, those who were good, and regard as strangers those who were bad: Ut mundum pro patria, castra pro arce, bonos pro cognatis, malos pro peregrinis agnoscerent.

XLI. It is an apophthegm, of many learned and wise men among the Gentiles, that to a man of a strong and liberal mind, all the world is his country. He who attaches his heart to that corner of the earth in which he was born, cannot look upon all the world as his country, nor himself as a citizen of it, and therefore the world should despise him, as a narrow-minded and mean-spirited person.

XLII. I believe notwithstanding, that there is something figurative contained in the words of the sentences before quoted, for mankind can never be understood to be exempted from the love and service they owe to the republic of which they are members, in preference to all other states and kingdoms; but I apprehend also, that this obligation should not be confined to a republic, because we were born within its limits, but because we are members of its society; therefore, he who has legally transferred his residence from the kingdom in which he was born, to another different one, where he has settled himself, and taken up his abode, contracts with respect to that kingdom, the same obligations he owed to that in which he was born and nursed, and he ought to regard it as the country to which he belongs. This is a distinction, that was not rightly understood by many great men of antiquity; and for this reason, we see in various authors of note, some actions celebrated as heroic, which ought to have been condemned as infamous. Demaratus King of Sparta, when he was unjustly dethroned and driven out of his kingdom by his own subjects, was kindly received and protected by the Persians. He lived among them as a member of the Persian empire, and owed to that country, besides the obligation of gratitude, the duty of a subject; but mark the sequel: the Persians meditate a military expedition against the Lacedemonians; and Demaratus, who is let into the secret, communicates the design to the Spartans, in order that they might be prepared to defeat the enterprize. Herodotus, and many other authors, celebrate this action, as a commendable mark of the glorious and heroic love which Demaratus entertained for his country; but I say, it was a perfidious, base, unworthy, and treacherous act; because in virtue of the antecedent circumstances, the obligation of his loyalty, together with his person, had been transferred from Lacedemonia to Persia.

XLIII. To conclude: I assert that if by reason of being born in it, we contract any obligation to a particular district or place, that obligation is inferior to, and ought to give place to every other christian or political one whatever. Surely the difference of being born in this or that country is not so material, that this should out-weigh every other consideration; therefore we ought never to prefer our countryman only because he is our countryman, except in those cases, where there is a perfect equality of all the other circumstances.

XLIV. In superior rulers, I don’t even with this limitation, admit of any partiality, with respect to countrymen, for the following reasons: first, because without being perfectly divested of this passion, it is hardly possible in one instance or another, to shun the danger of passing from favour to injustice. Secondly, that in whatever manner, favour to our countrymen is limited and restrained, we are apt to fall into an acceptation or preferable choice of persons, which by all those who govern ought to be studiously avoided. Thirdly, superior rulers being truly the fathers of their people, their impartial affection for them should be regarded as a consideration so incomparably superior to all others, that it ought to stifle and suffocate every kind of motive or inclination to preference, except that, which is derived from superior merit. It would be ridiculous in a father to love one child better than another, only because this was born in his own town or city, and the mother was delivered of the other in a different place, in consequence of her being from home on a journey. Therefore all those who govern, ought ever to retain in their hearts and memories, the maxim of the famous queen of Carthage, who being informed that the Trojans, in consequence of her marrying Eneas, entertained hopes of receiving superior indulgences to the Tyrians from her, declared her perfect indifference of affection for them all as a queen in the following words:

Tros, Tyriusque mihi nullo discrimine agetur.

SECT. IX.

XLV. Having spoken in this discourse, of the favour that may be shewed to a countryman in preference to a stranger, in case he is a man of equal merit, I thought it would not be improper here, to take notice of a moral point, which frequently occurs in practice, and in which I have often seen men mistake, who in other respects are far from absurd. Those, who have annexed to their charges the distribution of honourable and useful employments, if they have not a perfect knowledge of the competitors for a vacant place, commonly avail themselves of judicial or extrajudicial informations touching their merits. This is a case that often occurs in the appointment to such professorships in many universities, as are in the disposal of the king, or his supreme council; and in these instances, all the doctors of this university of Oveido give their information to the royal council promiscuously. It is to be supposed, that the person, who by his own or delegated authority appoints to the office, when two persons of equal merit are proposed to him, may very consistently chuse which he pleases; but with respect to the equality of merit, if he is a stranger to the parties, he must be guided by the informations he receives; and I have seen it very common, when they had no just reason for doing it, for people to give their information in favour of the man they liked best, and I have known them go so far, as not only to recommend him in preference to his competitor, but to represent him as the only person qualified to fill the vacant office.

XLVI. I call this an error, because that in my opinion, such an information upon the face of it, is injurious and void of all probability, which I shall endeavour to demonstrate, by exposing the malice and indirect proceeding of him, who between two equal subjects, Peter and John for example, gives his information in favour of Peter, in preference to John; for I perceive in such behaviour, not only one, but three serious and distinct offences. And first, he offends materially in his information, against the virtue of legal and impartial justice, which requires, that he should represent people according to the true degree of their merits; but he swerves from this principle, who represents Peter as superior to John, when he is not so in reality. Secondly, he behaves unworthily and unjustly to his Prince, by usurping and preoccupying the right, which he has to chuse between the parties. Thirdly, he is guilty of injustice to the said John, who has a right to be represented according to the true degree of merit he possesses; and the proposing him as inferior to Peter, when in truth he is equal to him, is doing him a manifest injury, which besides prejudicing him with regard to other contingencies, renders it impossible in this instance, for him to partake of the king’s grace of chusing him in preference to his competitor Peter.

XLVII. From what has been premised, it may be inferred, that no contingent can ever happen, in which an informant or voter can consistently shew favour, or be partial to any man, either in such an instance as we have just mentioned, or in any other whatever, judicial or extrajudicial; because as we have shewn, competitions between subjects of equal merit do not admit of it, and if the merits of the competitors are unequal, the injustice of such a proceeding is self-evident; consequently, to him who acts conscientiously, all recommendations or solicitations are useless and improper; for he will not be biassed by friendship, country, gratitude, school-alliances, religion, college-connections, or any other motives whatever. But the misfortune is, that in the practice of the world, we see but few examples of such disinterested and upright conduct, even in cases where the merits of candidates are unequal; but on the contrary, whenever an opposition is set on foot, the favourers of each candidate, are more occupied in canvassing suffrages, than in studying questions, and more busied in examining the connections of voters, than books of faculty. The abuse is carried to such a length, that sometimes a man’s acting with integrity is imputed to him as a crime. If a voter, who is solicited by a man of eminence, answers ingenuously, and excuses himself from complying with what is requested of him; they say he is a rough, ill-bred, unpolished man: if he does not yield to the solicitations of a benefactor, they call him ungrateful; and if he does not give way to the intreaties of a friend, they exclaim that he is callous to the feelings of friendship. Finally, it appears to me, that a more intolerable error than this cannot exist, for I have seen men much esteemed by the generality of mankind for their worth, who have always prostituted their votes to these or some other temporal motives; but in the name of reason, can a man have any friend so great or so good as God? Is there any benefactor, to whom we owe so much as to him? How shall we reconcile this? Can he be called a grateful, an honourable, or a good man, who can be wanting in his duty to his best friend and greatest benefactor, by acting unjustly to oblige a creature, to whom he owes this or that limited respect, and to whom also it is impossible he should owe any thing whatever, but what he owes principally, and in the first instance to God? In vain I have urged these arguments in various private conversations; and I believe it is in vain also, that I now use them with the public at large; but if they shall not be effectual to amend the abuse, they will at least serve to disburthen my mind, and give vent to my chagrin.

ON
TRUE and FALSE
URBANITY.

SECT. I.

I. The signification of the word Urbanity is equivocal, so that when you read it in different authors who lived in distinct times, you will find, the sense they understood it in varied exceedingly. It’s immediate derivation is from the Latin word Urbanus, which springs from urbs a city; but notwithstanding this, it did not imply city in general; for it’s meaning at first, was confined in an especial manner to signify the city of Rome.

II. The reason of this was, that the word urbanus began to be first made use of, at the time that the Roman republic was in the zenith of it’s prosperity, and this may be evidently inferred, from Quintilian’s saying the word was new in the days of Cicero; Cicero favorem, et urbanum nova credit. It was then that the generical word urbs began to be used by way of eminence, to signify the city of Rome, on account of it’s portentous grandeur; and with the same pace that Rome proceeded to domineer over the world, that sort of culture which the Romans looked upon as an excellence peculiar to themselves, proceeded to gain ground, and prevail in the city, and it was then that the Romans began to make use of the word Urbanus, to express that compound sort of cultivation that people received there, which seemed not to be confined to letters and sciences only, but also to comprehend manner and punctillo also; homo urbanus, sermo urbanus; and they used the word urbanitas, to express those accomplishments in an abstracted sense.

III. But all authors did not give the same extension to the cultivation implied by the word urbanitas. Cicero, as we know from his book de claris oratoribus, restrained it to a graceful manner of speaking, which was peculiar to the Romans.

IV. Quintilian thinks, the graceful manner of speaking, which was peculiar to the Romans, and which consisted in their proper choice of words, their just application of them, and the decent tone of their voices, did not comprehend the whole, but was only a part of the accomplishment that was meant to be expressed by the term Urbanity; and he assigns as another part appertaining to it, a tincture of erudition acquired by frequent conversation with learned men; nam, et urbanitas dicitur, qua quidem significari sermonem præ se ferentem in verbis, et sono, et usu proprium quemdam gustum urbis, et sumptam ex conversatione doctorum tacitam eruditionem, denique cui contraria sit rusticitas.

V. Domitius Marsus, an author who lived about mid-way between the days of Cicero and Quintilian, and who wrote a treatise upon Urbanity, which we are indebted to Quintilian for the knowledge of, strikes into a new track, and maintains Urbanity to consist in the keenness and force of a short pithy expression, which delights and inclines the hearer to be affected in the manner the speaker could wish; and which is well adapted to excite either resistance or assent, according to the circumstances of persons and things: Urbanitas est virtus quædam in breve dictum coacta, et apta ad delectandos, movendosque in omnem affectum animos, maxime idonea ad resistendum, vel lacessendum, prout quæque res ac persona desiderant. (Quintilian ubi supra.) This definition is truly confused, and either explains nothing, or else, only explains a particular idea of the author, distinct from every thing that has hitherto been understood, respecting the meaning of the word Urbanity.

VI. The moral philosophers, who have studied and laboured to explain the admirable ethics of Aristotle, have considered this word as equivalent to the Greek one Eutrapelia, which Aristotle made use of to express that virtue, which influences people to observe moderation in the tone of their voice, and their manner of expressing themselves; as vicious extremes in these particulars, were apt to degenerate into rusticity, or else, to be attended with scurrility and buffoonry; and these are the sentiments of our cardinal Aguirre and count Manuel Thesaurus.

VII. But neither the word urbanity, nor that of rusticity, which is its opposite, are made use of to express at present, what they were understood to imply formerly. They call him now-a-days, an agreeable or well-bred man, and not a man of urbanity, who speaks in a moderate and pleasing tone of voice, and who expresses himself in decent and opportune phrases; and he who delivers himself in an opposite manner, they do not call a rustic, but a coarse or an unpleasant man, or else describe him by phrases that are equivalent to those.

SECT. II.

VIII. But to come to the acceptation that is given to the word Urbanity in these present times, and to the sense in which it seems now to be generally understood in Spain, it signifies the same as Cortesania; but it is also true, that some give a more limited, and some a more extensive signification to this phrase. There are those who understand cortesane, or courteous, to mean the same as well-bred, and to express a man who in his commerce with other men, conducts himself with that decorum and ceremony which is prescribed by good education. But amongst those who define things with propriety, I believe a courteous man is understood to mean one, who, by his natural disposition, has a propensity in all his words and actions, to conduct himself with that temper and manner, that makes his conversation and company agreeable and pleasing to the rest of mankind. Taken in this sense, the Spanish word Cortesania, is equivalent to the French one Politesse, to the Italian one Civilitá, and to the Latin one Comitas.

IX. The derivation of the word Cortesania, is analogous to that of Urbanitas; for as this last was taken from the word Urbs, which according to the custom then in use, was looked upon to be applicable to the city of Rome, which was then the capital of a very great part of the world, the term Urbanity was understood to imply, that sort of cultivation which was then in vogue at Rome. Just so Cortesania, which in Spain is derived from Corte, or court, where it is generally supposed people behave with the greatest politeness is understood to imply that sort of good breeding which is generally practised there, and which we express by the term Cortesania.

X. Understanding then the word Urbanity in this sense, I shall define it in the following manner; that it is a virtue, or virtuous habit, which directs and leads a man both in his words and actions in such a way, as makes his company and behaviour savoury, grateful, and engaging, to the rest of mankind. I shall not embarrass myself, about whether some people think this definition too redundant, and that it seems to express more than the term Urbanity implies. I adjust the definition to the interpretation I myself put upon the term, and to the sense it is understood in, by those who have treated of the subject in the most approved manner. Those who give less extension to the word, may, if they please, define the thing in another manner. Disputes about definitions are mere nominal questions, and may not improperly be called playing upon words. Every one defines a thing, according to the acceptation he gives to the word that expresses it. If all men were to agree in the acceptation of a word, they would scarce ever differ in the definition of the object that is expressed by it; but the misfortune is, that the same word, excites in different people different ideas with respect to the meaning of it, and hence it is, that we see such a variety of definitions.

XI. There is no doubt, but that all the particulars which compose a courteous carriage, should lead to the attainment of a certain end, and should be calculated to induce a certain manner in all a man’s exterior behaviour, that should be free from any mixture of the indecent, the offensive, or the tiresome; but that on the contrary it should rather be combined, with the grateful, the decent, and the opportune.

XII. Urbanity, like all other moral virtues, is placed between two vicious extremes; one of which it is apt to run into by exceeding, and the other by deficiency, or not doing enough. The first is occasioned by that excessive complaisance which borders upon meanness; and the second, by a rigid unsavoury reserve, which has the appearance of rusticity.

SECT. III.

XIII. As there is no virtue, whose use is so general and common as than of Urbanity, so there is no one which is so much counterfeited and falsified by hypocrisy. There are men who by seldom finding themselves in a situation to exercise some particular virtues, are not very anxious about contriving means to imitate them by hypocrisy; but as Urbanity is a virtue that all men have opportunities of exercising, it is in the power of all men to counterfeit it by deceit. In truth, the hypocrites in the line of Urbanity are innumerable. All the world super-abound with expressions of submission and profound respect, with obsequious offers, and with exaggerated professions of esteem, with smiling countenances, whose essence consists in the command they have of their features, and in expressions of their lips, in which their hearts have not the least share; but on the contrary, are rather impressed with sentiments, that are quite opposite to those false appearances, and mock demonstrations.

XIV. What, then, should Urbanity be implanted in the heart? Without doubt it should, or it is at least from thence that it ought to derive its origin. If it was otherwise, how could it be a virtue? Reason tells us, that there is an honest complaisance due from one man to another; and whatever reason dictates should be esteemed a virtue. But how can a lying, deceitful, and affected complaisance be a virtue? It is evident it cannot. Urbanity then should arise from the bottom of the soul. What does not do that, is not Urbanity, but hypocrisy that counterfeits it. An honest soul, stands in no need of fiction to assist it in the observance of all those attentions which compose good-breeding, because it is naturally inclined to the observance of them, left alone to itself. By an innate propensity, accompanied by the light of reason, such a one will never, upon any occasion, be found wanting in the respect that is due to his superiors, nor in the condescension he should shew to his equals, nor in the affability he should practice with his inferiors, nor in the good-will and gracious manner, with which he should manifest to all men, both in words and deeds, these laudable dispositions of his mind, and his love of human society.

XV. I am not ignorant, that Urbanity is commonly understood to consist in our external testification of respect and benevolence to those with whom we converse. But if this testification, is not accompanied with the affections of the mind that are expressed by it, it becomes deceitful, and cannot possibly constitute that sort of urbanity, which consists in a virtuous habit; for in order to constitute such a one, it would be necessary that the testification should be sincere, which amounts to the same as saying, that there is essentially included in urbanity, the existence of those sentiments, which are expressed by courteous words and actions.

SECT. IV.

XVI. It is certain, that courts are the great public schools of true Urbanity; but they have mixed so much false in those schools in the practice of it, that some have been led to think, it has nearly obscured the true, of which, there seems to be scarce any thing left but the mere appearance. I believe, that without disparagement to any other courts we ever heard of, those of antient Rome, and modern Paris, may be esteemed the most cultivated and polite that have been known in the world. After mentioning this, let us hear what two authors say who were well versed in the practice of them both. The first is Juvenal, who clearly gives us to understand, that he who could not lie and flatter should withdraw from court, as there were no hopes of his getting any thing by his attendance there—

Quid Romæ faciam? Mentiri nescio; librum

Si malus est, nequeo laudare, &c.

XVII. The second is the abbot Boileau, a famous preacher at Paris in the reign of Louis the Fourteenth. This eminent man, in a treatise he published, entitled Choice Thoughts or Reflexions, drew such a picture of the court of Versailles, as shews the Urbanity exercised there, had degenerated not only into dissimulation, but even into treachery, although he admits, this was not the practice of every one who attended it. These are his words:

XVIII. “What are the manners and behaviour of a courtier? Why they consist in flattering his enemies while he is afraid of their power; and in endeavouring to destroy them whenever he finds an opportunity for doing it; in being civil to, and making use of his friends when he stands in need of their assistance, and in turning his back upon them when they can be of no further service to him; in seeking out powerful protectors, whom he fawns on, and idolizes exteriorly, and frequently despises in secret.

XIX. “Courtly Urbanity, consists in converting dissimulation and deceit, into the law or rule of a man’s actions; and representing all sorts of people in such colours, as your interest dictates to you that you should paint them; in bearing slights and disappointments with a forced reserve, and in awaiting with a strained appearance of modesty and composure, the favours of Fortune.

XX. “In a court, for the most part there is no sincerity, but almost every thing you see there, is compounded of hypocrisy, deceit, and malevolence; for example, in peoples doing underhand ill offices to each other; in contriving and laying snares that nobody can be aware of; in bearing painful and mortifying disgusts with a smiling countenance; and in hiding under an apparent shew of modesty, the pride of Lucifer. It is very common in a court, for a man not to be permitted to love whom he likes, to do what he should, nor to speak what he thinks. It is necessary to keep silence, in order to conceal your sentiments, and it is also necessary, to acquire a facility at changing them. You must applaud, abuse, love, abhor, speak, and live, not according to your own liking or inclination, but in conformity to the arbitrary will and caprice of other people.

XXI. “In what do the other manners and mode of a man’s conducting himself consist in a courtier? Why in dissembling injuries, and in revenging them; in flattering his enemies, and in destroying them; in promising every thing for the sake of obtaining a dignity or promotion, and in performing none of these promises after he has got it; in repaying favours with words, services with plausible assurances, and debts with threatenings. At court, they in the same breath implore and execrate Fortune, applaud and despise merit; and they also disguise the truth, under an ostentatious appearance of frankness.”

XXII. I believe there is a great deal of this sort of dissimulation all over the world; but it is natural to suppose, there is more of it practised in courts than in other places, for the incitements to the exercise of the before-mentioned vices, are generally stronger there, than they are found to be out of those circles. There is not a passion nor an appetite, which there a man does not seem within reach of indulging, and the objects which stimulate his desires, shine forth there also in their greatest splendor. The ambitious man fancies himself on the point of grasping honours, and the covetous one riches. The pretenders are vying with each other, the emulous contending with the emulous, and the envious with the envied. There the success of the unworthy man, is staring the neglected deserving one in the face, and there the hands of the unskilful artist fully employed, is exhibiting a disgusting spectacle, to the able one who has nothing to do. And although a modest man who only views this at a great distance, or who only hears it from report, may reason upon it, and contain himself like a philosopher, still, when the mortifying prospect is so near him, he can scarce speak of the thing with temper, nor look upon it without falling into a passion. Thus it is almost morally impossible, that the hearts of the neglected men should not be in a continual state of fermentation, and their feelings in a tumultuous agitation, which is attended, not so much with the corruption of the men themselves, as with that of their manners.

XXIII. But notwithstanding all that has been alledged, we ought to conclude, that the two before-named authors exaggerated the evils they meant to reprehend. There is a great deal of bad in courts, but there is also some good to be found in them. The complaints that merit is neglected, are frequently nothing more than sighs, which express the grief and disappointments of the heart from whence they proceed. The same man who laments political mismanagement, while he is not permitted to go beyond the porch of the favourite’s house, when he has once gained admittance into it, begins to applaud his conduct, as he ascends the steps leading to his levee-room; which is a proof that what he meant by mismanagement and a bad conducted government, was such a one as he got nothing under, and that what he understands by a good one, is such a one as is advantageous to him. I have at all times heard the administration ill spoken of, but if we come to enquire by whom, we shall find it is chiefly done, by importunate candidates for places and employments, who are unable to attain what they never deserved, and by litigious suitors, who were justly disappointed of success in their vexatious attempts, and who have been condemned to pay costs, for commencing unjust prosecutions; by delinquents who have been legally mulcted for their misdeeds; by ignorant people who have passed for men of understanding, and who without having studied in any other school, than that of a coffee-house or a club-room, have presumed to give positive opinions, upon the most important and difficult political and military questions; and finally, by weak people, who fancy that a good government can effect impossibilities, and that they are able to make all the subjects of a state, happy and contented.

XXIV. Neither my genius, nor my destiny have allowed me to have much intercourse with ministers in high stations; but I have heard sincere judicious men, who have known many of them well, speak of them, in terms very different from those they have been spoken of by the vulgar; and who have expressed a different opinion, both of their abilities and their intentions, from that which has been commonly propagated. Nor indeed is it credible, that princes, who generally know men’s political characters better than private people, should make choice of men for their ministers, who are either incapable, or wickedly disposed. If in case that they should have been mistaken in the opinion they entertained of them, and they find upon trying them, that they are not equal to conduct the business they have confided to their management, they may easily remove them. Thus it is utterly improbable to me, that a man destitute of all merit, should for any length of time, occupy a post of great importance, or have the ear of his sovereign.

XXV. With respect to inferior ministers, such for example, as the principal people and magistrates in the provinces, I have had a great deal of experience, and protest, that for the most part, I have found them to be the best sort of men to be met with in the country. I say for the most part, for it cannot be denied, that among this class, there are men to be found that are not very upright, and more than a little addicted to avarice. And by what I find the principal directors, lawyers, and magistrates in the country to be, I judge of those about the court; and it seems natural to me, that the higher the sphere of life is in which people move, they are the more stimulated by motives of honour, and less likely to descend to, or be guilty of mean actions.

SECT. V.

XXVI. Neither do I believe above half that is said, of the neglect that is shewn to merit, and the abandoned situation it finds itself in at court; for the number of candidates for preferment that may be found there, who have no merit at all, would upon enquiry appear to be very considerable, and that among them, you will meet with mischief-makers, together with crafty, deceitful, and treacherous people, whose bad practices and characters, it is almost beyond the power of language to describe; who are a sort of imps of Satan, that for the most part serve the Devil without pay; and are a kind of galley slaves upon earth, who join to that slavery, being the galley boatswains mates, or drivers of each other, whose oar, and whose scourge, are never out of their hands, for fear of their not being the first to arrive at the desired port, and to accomplish what they had in view. They are a species of idolaters of Fortune, who sacrifice as victims to that deity, their companions, their relations, their friends, and their benefactors; and in the end themselves also, or their own souls. What have we not to expect, or what have we not to fear from men of this character?

XXVII. I have been three times at court, but either from my natural incuriosity, or because my stay there each time was but short, I came away as ignorant of the practices of a court, as I went; and only took particular notice of one circumstance, which is relative to the subject I am now treating of. I saw there, as in other places, Urbanity degenerate into that fulsome kind of ceremony, which may be termed cringing complaisance. Accident furnished me with numberless opportunities of seeing such things; and I have frequently observed two people who have usually met together in their walks, and who, as I have been informed, had a tolerable indifference for each other, and even looked upon one another with reciprocal contempt; I say I have seen these people upon their meeting, strive which should excel in expressions of the love, veneration and respect they bore to each other. There was scarce a word came out of their mouths, which was not accompanied with some affected gestures. Their eyes cast glances of tender devotion on each other, and milk and honey flowed from their lips; but at the same time their affectation was so palpable, that any man of the least discernment, might have perceived the disagreement there was, between their hearts and their appearances. I laughed inwardly at them both, and I believe they also in their hearts, laughed mutually at each other.

XXVIII. I saw once two lawyers accost each other, with such extreme expressions of tenderness, that a Portuguese might have learned from them, phrases and gestures for feats of gallantry. Both these people had places at court, on which account they could not avoid seeing each other pretty frequently; and there was no friendship between them; notwithstanding which, their expressions were like those of the most cordial friends, who had met together after a long absence.

XXXIX. Having expressed to some people who were used to the court, how disgusting this appeared to me, they answered that this was behaving in the court stile; but would not any one who hears this, conclude the court was nothing but a comic theatre, where all the world act the part of enamoratos; although to speak the truth, it was only in spirits of inferior order, that I noted this amorous kind of farrago. In those of more elevated hearts and minds, if they don’t owe the thing to their own genius and disposition, the education of a court produces a better effect, and exhibits people of a more noble behaviour, and such as is proper to, and expressive of true urbanity. I say I have observed in such, affability, sweetness, expressions of benevolence, and offers of kind services; all which were tendered with propriety, and in a decent generous manner, free from affected exaggerations, but animated at the same time, and expressed with so natural an air, that the articulations of the tongue, were indications of the emotions of the mind, and the feelings of the heart.

XXX. Cato, as Tully tells us, said, he wondered how two augurs whenever they met, could refrain from laughing at each other; as they both well knew, that their whole art was a mere imposture. I think the saying may be applied to two fulsomely complaisant courtiers; for I do not see how those who have once saluted each other in this cringing and affected way, can upon meeting again, forbear laughing in each others faces, as they both know, that all the hyperbolical professions of their esteem, affection, and readiness to oblige, mean nothing, and that this is all a mere common-place farrago or rhapsody, quite destitute of truth or reality.

XXXI. I have said, that in the lesser towns I have visited, I have not observed so much by a great deal, of this ridiculous parade. It is true, that you will find in them, some few people who walk about the streets with incense in their hands, to offer up to, and idolize all those, whom they fancy can be of any service to them; but they are looked upon like what they are, not as men of worth, but as men of craft, whose incense smells savoury in the nostrils of none but fools. This sort of behaviour about the court, frequently passes for good-breeding; but in these other places it is condemned as meanness.

SECT. VI.

XXXII. I am persuaded that solid and brilliant urbanity, has much more of the natural than the acquired in its composition. A good, sound, and unembarrassed mind, accompanied with discretion, which is gentle without meanness, and is disposed by genius and inclination to conform to every thing that is not contrary to reason, to which dispositions there is annexed a clear understanding, or native prudence, which dictates to a man how he should speak and act, according to the different circumstances and situations in which he finds himself, will, without studying in any school, acquit himself well, and appear agreeable in his commerce with mankind. It is true, that he will be deficient in his knowledge of those forms, modes, and ceremonies, which people study in courts, and which are changed by caprice at every turn; but in the first place, natural advantages, which always are intrinsically valuable, and which will ever operate, will supply upon ordinary occasions, the want of studied forms; and secondly, a modest and candid confession, to those you happen to be in company with, of your ignorance of political forms and ceremonies, on account of your having been born and bred in the provinces where they are not generally practised, will be a sufficient excuse for your transgression of those forms, and even your doing this, will appear better in the eyes of reasonable people, than your observing a strained and scrupulous attention to them.

XXXIII. I have availed myself many times of this resource at court; where I have made no scruple to declare, that I was born and bred in a small country town; and that I early entered myself a member of a religious order, whose principal care it was, to seclude its sons, and especially in their youth, from all commerce with the world. That my genius naturally disposed me to abhor bustle, and avoid great concourses of people; and excepting three years that I was a student at Salamanca, which may not improperly be termed three years of solitude, on account of the heads of our college not permitting their young members to have the least intercourse with secular people; I say excepting these three years, I have lived all the rest of my life, in Galicia and Asturias, which are provinces at a great distance from court; and besides all this, I have a natural dislike to studying ceremonies; but I am aware however, that not only the substance, but the forms of them also, are necessary to political society; although I do not consider that as an important form, which consists of rules that are established to-day, and changed to-morrow, just as whim and caprice dictate; some of which forms, or modes, prevail in one country, and are different in another; but I mean to speak of those forms or modes only, which reason dictates should be observed in all times, and in all places. From the before-named declaration, it may be easily conceived how little I understand of courtly ceremonies; notwithstanding which, with the assistance of the above frank confession, I never found myself the least embarrassed, and I perceived, nothing I said or did appeared disagreeable to those I conversed with, but that rather on the contrary, my natural behaviour seemed pleasing to them.

XXXIV. Men of sublime spirits and elevated understanding, possess a natural privilege to dispense with formalities whenever they think proper; just as musicians of great genius are allowed upon many occasions, to depart from the common rules of their art; their doing which, hardly ever renders the music ungrateful to the ear; so men who are endowed with great talents, and display a manifest superiority in conversation, may dispense with the ordinary and common methods of speaking, without ever offending the ears of their auditors. Natural advantages shine forth with a greater lustre, and are more solid, and more pleasing than borrowed acquisitions. Thus the world are well satisfied, to accept the first in the room of the last, and look upon themselves as over-paid for the loss of the one, by the introduction of the other in its stead.

XXXV. I was even about to say, that the establishment of ceremonies of urbanity, was only calculated for people of middling or inferior geniuses, and was meant as a succedaneum for a discretion so superior to that which the others we have mentioned possess, as to be capable of dictating of itself, the rule of deportment one man should observe to another. I believe it happens in this, with very little difference, the same that it happens in all material movements. There are men, who naturally and without any teaching, have a grace and air in all their actions, in the motions of their hands, and their feet, in the bending their bodies, and inclining their heads, in the casting downwards and lifting up their eyes, and in whom in every motion and gesture, all is done with such a native grace, that it enamours those who behold them; and is that sort of excellence, which is described by Tibullus to have been possessed by Sulpicia:

Illam quid quid agit, quoquo vestigia flectit,

Componit furtim, subsequiturque decor.

I should consider it as very useless and unnecessary, to prescribe rules for the carriage and actions of such sort of people. Let precepts be kept for the use of those who are naturally aukward, and let them be tried to see whether by art, they can mend this defect of nature.

XXXVI. It is only with respect to two sorts of people, that no body is allowed to be exempt from observing ceremony, and they are princes and women. The first, from time immemorial, have instituted ceremonies as essential appendages to majesty. The second, from education and habit, have been taught, and accustomed to regard as the substance, what in reality is an accidental or visionary entity, and even to prefer this visionary or accidental entity, to the substance itself. Thus they are apt to disesteem the most discreet and agreeable man in the world, and to give the preference to one of much inferior talents, because he is well instructed in fashionable formalities, and is a strict observer of them. I except from this number, the women of superior abilities, who know as well as any body, how to distinguish, and do justice to true merit.

SECT. VII.

XXXVII. Whether this native grace is an integrant part of, or an ornament to that urbanity, which seasons and adorns men’s words and actions, it is certain, that study and art can never supply the defect of it.

XXXVIII. This is that sort of perfection, which Plutarch extols in Agesilaus, and by the help of which, he observes, that although he was but a little man, and his figure rather contemptible, he in his old age, appeared more amiable and engaging, than any of the handsome young fellows. Dicitur autem pusillus fuisse, et specie aspernanda; cæterum hilaritas ejus omnibus horis, et urbanitas aliena ab omni, vel vocis, vel vultus morositate, et acerbitate, amabiliorem eum ad senectutem usque præbuit omnibus formosis.

XXXIX. This is that species of seasoning of which Quintilian speaks, when he says, that it makes the same sentence seem to come better from the mouth of one man than another: Inest proprius quibusdam decor in habitu, atque vultu, ut eadem illa minus, dicente alio, videantur urbana esse.

XL. This is that kind of ornament, which Cicero called the colour, or blazon of urbanity, and instances Brutus, as one who was tinged with it in great perfection, but when he came to explain or describe this blazon, he defined it to have consisted of a mysterious je ne scai quoi. These are his words, taken from his dialogue De claris Oratoribus: et Brutus, quis est, inquit, tandem urbanitatis color? Nescio, inquam, tantum esse quendam scio. Which last expression, I am obliged to decipher by the sentence Je ne scai quoi, as I can find no other that is equivalent to it. This native grace, or if you please to call it by the figurative name Cicero has expressed it by, this colouring of urbanity, is composed of many particulars. For example, the neatness of the articulation, the good tone, and the harmonious flexibility of the voice, the graceful attitude of the body, the well regulated movements of the action, the amiable modesty of the carriage or manner, and the striking or lively expression of the eyes, are the parts, which constitute the whole of this grace.

XLI. It is easy to perceive, that all the before-mentioned are gifts of nature; which can never be acquired by study, or supplied by instruction. Many people have hoped to succeed, by attempting to imitate those, in whom these natural gifts are resplendent, or to speak more properly, are a part of their nature; but the very means they employ to give themselves a pleasing and agreeable air, cause them to appear ridiculous. That which is a grace in the original, has often an apish look in the copy. The imitation of natural endowments, seldom amounts to more, than a contemptible mock semblance of them. The affectation in these attempts is glaring and palpable, and all affectation is surfeiting.

XLII. I shall only state two limitations, or exceptions, to the possibility of acquiring those parts of gracefulness, which consist in the position of the body, and the motion of its members; and shall admit in the first place, that these may in some measure be acquired by imitation; but when? why when people do not think of acquiring them, and are not sensible that they do acquire them; that is in their infant state. It is then that nature is so pliant and flexible, that like soft wax, it may be easily molded to any shape, and made to receive any impression; and hence it is, that we frequently see children in their ordinary actions and motions, greatly resemble their parents.

XLIII. In Galicia where I was born, there are many people who understand Spanish perfectly well, who speak it in a drawling sort of a way, and by leaving out now and then a letter, are apt to lose the exact and proper pronunciation. Many have attributed this defect, to the imperfect organization of the tongues of the people of Galicia, produced by the influence of the climate; but it is no such thing, for this vicious pronunciation, is derived from the bad habit of speaking they contract in their infancy; and it is evident that it proceeds from thence, because many Galician children who have been carried from home when they were very young, and have been afterwards brought up and educated at Castile, some of whom I have seen, pronounce the Castilian language with as much clearness and readiness, as the natives of that province themselves. It is not many years ago, that there was a celebrated actress, who was born in a small village in Galicia, and who was carried to court by her uncle at four years old, and was there trained up to the stage, and who was greatly admired for her neat and ready pronunciation.

XLIV. The second limitation and exception I admit to the position I have advanced, is, that both a vicious pronunciation, and an aukwardness of motion and manner, may be greatly corrected and amended, even after people are grown to a state of maturity, and especially when these defects proceed from bad habits contracted in their youth. But in order to accomplish this, there is need of great perseverance and application. Even an inveterate bad habit, may be torn up by the roots by applying vast force and exertion to eradicate it; but when the fibres of the root, are inserted into the profundities of nature, all endeavours are vain.

SECT. VIII.

XLV. Although Urbanity, with respect to the most brilliant and beautiful parts of it, which we describe by the term gracefulness, as we have before observed, depends very little upon study or instruction, still in all its substantial and essential parts, it admits of precepts and rules; so that any man who has been taught, or has made himself acquainted with them, may perfectly understand in what this appearance of Urbanity consists.

XLVI. People very frequently, and in many ways offend against the laws of Urbanity; and I have seen those, who have had a reasonable good education, who have notwithstanding that, been frequently guilty of offending against the rules of good-breeding. All those imperfections, are the very reverse of Urbanity, which tend to make people disagreeable in their conversation, and when in company with other men troublesome or disgusting in their behaviour; and this explanation, suits well with the definition we at first gave of Urbanity. But which are these imperfections? To this I shall answer, that they are many, and that I will proceed to point some of the most striking ones out, which I apprehend will be the most instructive part of this essay, as enumerating the most glaring imperfections that tend to make people disagreeable and troublesome in conversation, will have the same effect, as prescribing rules that should be observed, to render their company pleasing and desirable to society. As I proceed, the reader may accompany me, and examine his political conscience as we go on, in order to discover whether any of the faults or failings I point out, are applicable to himself.

SECT. IX.

Loquacity.

XLVII. I consider talkative people as a sort of tyrants of conversation; for according to my opinion, who admit of a limited species of reason in brutes, talking is a faculty more peculiar to man than reasoning; and engrossing all the conversation to a man’s self is a most arbitrary proceeding. He who is always desirous of being heard, and is impatient of attending to any one else, usurps a privilege to himself, which should be enjoyed in general by all mankind, as a prerogative proper to their being. But what fruit can be gathered from his torrent of words? None, except the tiring and disgusting his hearers may be called a fruit, who after they are rid of him, make amends for the silence he had imposed on them, by speaking of him with derision and contempt. No time is worse employed, than that which is consumed in hearing talkative people; who are generally men without discretion or reflection, for if they had any, they would be more reserved and keep within reasonable bounds, in order to avoid making themselves contemptible; and if they want reflection, they must want judgement also, and how can he who wants judgement talk with propriety? Or what benefit can result to those who listen to an extravagant prating man, except that of his affording them an opportunity for the meritorious exercise of their patience? Thus what Theocritus said of the verbose fluency of Anaximenes, may be applied to all talkative people; that he considered them as a luxuriant river of words, in the whole stock of whose waters, you could not find one drop of understanding: Verborum flumen, mentis gutta.

XLVIII. What flows from such tongues, may be compared to vomitings of the soul; or to the sickly discharges from an unsound mind, which throws up before it has digested them, all the mental species or aliment it has received. They would have that pass for a faculty or power of explaining themselves, which in reality is nothing more than the want of a retentive faculty, or the power of keeping down what is in them. I would describe this malady, by calling it a relaxation of the rational faculty; whereas others might be apt to say, that is not the case, for the species are thrown up, for want of space to contain them in the part destined for their reception.

XLIX. Let no man plume himself too much, upon his being well attended to or applauded when he first begins to speak in public; for this may be a favourable tempting breeze, that may encourage him to loose the sails of loquacity; but although it may be a favourable and a tempting one, it may be a breeze of but short duration. Conversation is the food of the soul, but the cravings of the soul, are as various, as delicate, and as capricious as those of the body. The most noble diet persisted in for too long a time, becomes satiating, and loathsome. Thus the oratory of him, who for a certain space shall be listened to with pleasure by his hearers, may become tiresome to them after a while, and they would not attend to what he said, if he persisted in talking too long. The planets a man should consult the aspect of, to know when he should enter deep, or go but a little way into the gulph of conversation, are the eyes of his auditors; their pleasing serenity, or lowering appearances, should be the signs, that should either encourage him to spread all the sails of rhetoric and make great way; or else should warn him of the hazard and risque of proceeding any further, and that for the present it would be most prudent for him to lay-by, and wait a more safe and favourable opportunity to pursue his course.

L. But even these appearances may be fallacious and deceiving, and more especially to persons of high rank and authority; for the dependants of such, not only flatter them with their tongues, but with their eyes also. Why should I confine their adulation to the expressions of their tongues and their eyes, when they convert their whole bodies, and every limb and member of them, to instruments of delusion and flattery? for with certain fawning movements, and certain mysterious gestures of complaisance and admiration, they attend to and applaud all that is said or done by a man in power, on whom they are in any shape depending. He at the same time, big with his own cleverness, and his chops watering with approbation of himself, with the drivel running out at both corners of his mouth, vents his oratory, and talks whatever comes uppermost, be it good or bad, in a full persuasion, that the words of Apollo of Delphos were never listened to with more attention, or more respect. But, unhappy man, how do you deceive yourself! for you tire every body, and you disgust every body; and, the worst is, that those who had been just listening to you with such seeming applause, as soon as your back is turned, to relieve themselves from the pain the forced tribute of their adulation to you gave them, vent themselves in repeated bursts of laughter and derision at your folly. Great people may believe what I say, and be convinced that this is the way of the world; and they may also believe me when I tell them, that power in the hands of a weak man, only tends to make him appear more ridiculous; and that in the hands of a discreet one, if he is not extremely so, it tends in a great measure to cast a blemish on his understanding.

SECT. X.

Lying.

LI. What can be more obnoxious to urbanity than lying? What man of understanding is there whom it does not offend? Or to whom is it not disgusting? and how can deceit cease to be injurious? All the utility, all the delight that can be obtained by conversation, is destroyed by a lie. If he, with whom I converse, tells me lies, of what service will the information I receive from him be to me? for if I do not believe him, all he says will only tend to irritate me; and if I do, to fill me with errors. If I am not assured he tells me truth, what satisfaction can I have in attending to him? For his conversation, so far from affording me entertainment or instruction, will set my mind on the rack, and cause me to waver, and continue in a painful state of doubt, and also perplex me, to find out reasons for believing or disbelieving what he has told me.

LII. Conversation is a species of traffic, in which mankind exchange informations and ideas with each other; and what better name can we give to him, than that of a cheat and a deceiver, who in this commerce, passes false informations and ideas for true ones; and ought we not also to treat him as a prevaricator, who is unworthy of being admitted into human society?

LIII. I have always been amazed at, and have always condemned, the indulgence and toleration that lying people find in the world. I have already exclaimed against this practice in my Essay on the Impurity of Lying, and must beg leave to refer the reader thither for a more full discussion of the point; but it has occurred to me since I wrote that Essay, that it is probable, this toleration may have arisen from the great extension of the vice of lying; and that the number of those who find themselves interested in this indulgence, is much greater, than that of those who find themselves injured by it; and that perhaps they tolerate lying in one another, because the toleration is necessary and useful to both parties. If the sincere part of the world consists of but few people, they cannot, without being guilty of great rashness, attempt to wage war against the many; but they at least may remonstrate, and with temper complain of the disgust they receive, from the indulgence that is shewn to lying. I ingenuously confess for myself, that I look upon him as a man of but little sincerity, who hears a lie with much seeming composure, and without expressing any signs of his dislike of it; although I must confess at the time I say this, that a frank manifestation of our dislike of the practice, cannot so easily be shewn, unless it is to our equals or our inferiors.

LIV. There is a species of lie, that passes in the world for humour and pleasantry, which I would punish as a crime. Whenever there happens to be a person in company who is noted for being an exceeding credulous man, it frequently happens, that some one or other tells a very incredible story, for the sake of exposing the easy faith of such a person, and of shewing, how apt he is to swallow absurdities and improbabilities for truth. This is received as a piece of wit, and all the by-standers laugh and applaud the ingenuity and invention of him who told the lie, and they all regale themselves at the expence of the innocent credulous person. But I consider this as an abuse; for does the simple and easy credulity of any person give others a right to insult him? admitting that his excessive credulity proceeds from the scantiness of his understanding; are we peradventure only obliged to be civil to, and treat with urbanity, the discreet and the acute? If God has blessed you with more talents than another man, would it not be an insolent abuse of them, if you made that person an object of your scorn, and played upon him, and treated him with the same derision and contempt that you would treat a monkey? Would this be using him like your neighbour? Or would it be applying your talents to the end and purpose, for which God was pleased to endow you with them?

LV. But the truth is, that excessive credulity proceeds more from goodness of heart, than from want of discretion. I have seen men who were very simple, and at the same time very penetrating. The same rectitude of heart, which excites a man of simplicity of manners to conduct himself without deceit, inclines him to think, that other people conduct themselves upon the same principle. It often happens, that a lie is believed by one person because he is an ingenuous man; and discredited by another, because he is a simpleton. The case is, that the first, excited by the goodness of his disposition, sets himself about finding out grounds of probability for what he has heard, and by his penetration discovers such. The other, who is only influenced by the dictates of his malice, never seeks after any such thing; and although he should seek after it, his stupidity would not permit him to discover it.

LVI. I don’t know whether the story that is commonly told of St. Thomas Aquinas, which is, that he was made to believe there was an ox that could fly, be true or not, as likewise what was said about his going out very anxious to see the spectacle; but this I know, that the rebuke which was couched in the answer he gave to those who attempted to put that affront on his credulity, is well worthy of a St. Thomas; I say worthy of that great repository of excellent virtues, both moral and intellectual, and worthy also the generosity of heart, and exalted prudence, of that sublime genius. The answer was as follows: I could more easily be made to believe that there was an ox which could fly, than I could be made to believe, that mankind were capable of giving a lying relation of such a thing. What reproof could be more discreet than this! and what energy and delicacy is there contained in it! I esteem this sentence more, than I do any of those which the ancient Grecians have recorded of their wise men. The sublimity of it persuades me, that it was the legitimate child of St. Thomas’s brain, and of course I can have no doubt, but the story we have related was true. Thus we see, the greatest discretion is not incompatible with, but may be easily reconciled to, and brought to unite with the greatest simplicity.

SECT. XI.

Speakers of bold Truths.

LVII. As there are many people who behave with ill-breeding, from being addicted to relate falsehoods, so there are many others, who offend against the laws of urbanity by speaking ill-timed and uncivil truths. I mean to hint at those, who under pretence of undeceiving people, and of being their friends, out of time, and contrary to all the rules of decency, take the liberty of pointing out all their faults, and of speaking their opinion, both of them and their conduct. This is an act of barbarism, disguised under the veil of honest sincerity.

LVIII. We shall describe these people, by giving the character and behaviour of Philotimus. Philotimus is a man, who at all times is dinning in people’s ears the professions of his ingenuousness, and declaiming till he is out of breath against adulation. He is ever dwelling upon his immutable love of truth, which he uses as a sort of coupling, to all the insinuations he throws out against this or that person. He rudely tells a man his faults to his face, and then shelters himself under the pretence, that when an occasion presents itself for his doing it, he cannot refrain from speaking the truth, for all the gratifications and indulgences the world can afford. If he hears any person praised, be he absent or present, in whose conduct he conceives there is something reprehensible, he immediately gives vent to his spleen, and tells all he knows or has ever heard to that person’s prejudice, and reproaches those who have spoke well of him, with having flattered or been partial to him; and then immediately pleads his great love of truth, as a justification for what he has done.

LIX. What shall we say of such a man? We may venture to pronounce, that there is much more stuff about him, than is necessary to form either a fool or a rustic; and that he is an extravagant babbler, who in his conversation observes no order or bounds; that he is a rude, yea a very rude unpolished man, who does not understand the difference between servile adulation, and bare-faced effrontery. He being such a sort of man, why should those who hear him regard any thing he says? Or who can believe that he is capable of forming a just opinion of matters or things, who is so far infatuated as to overlook, or not attend to the maxims, which natural reason has so clearly dictated and pointed out? But if we were to admit that he does not err in the conception he forms of things, we must at least grant, that he errs in his mode of advancing his opinions, if he prefers them out of time, inopportunely, and without method. Has he peradventure a royal licence or patent, for being the superintendent or corrector of other men’s manners and conduct? But admitting for argument’s sake, that he is a man of as great veracity as he pretends to be, which by the way is what I very much doubt of; for my experience has convinced me, that if it does not apply to every individual, that fine sentence is most true and applicable to the bulk of mankind, which I have read somewhere, although I can’t remember in what author, and is as follows: Veritatem nulli frequentius lædunt, quam qui frequentius jactant. There are no people lie more frequently, than those who are always boasting of their veracity. I say, admitting that they are as sincere as they pretend to be, does their being men of veracity give them a right to go about cudgeling, and breaking the heads of all the world? Truth, according to the doctrine of St. Paul, is the beloved companion of charity: Charitas congaudet veritati; and should it then be used in a gross manner, and so as to become offensive and disgusting? The truth of the Christians, according to the description given of it by St. Austin, is more beautiful than the Helen of the Greeks: Incomparabiliter pulchrior est veritas Christianorum, quam Helena Græcorum; and should it appear, or be characterised with so brasen a face, that it abashes and stares every body out of countenance?

LX. I confess that there are occasions, on which every man is obliged to speak the truth, although his doing it should offend, or be attended with the resentment of those who hear him; but this licence should only be taken in one of the three following instances, the vindication of divine honour, the defence of accused innocence, and the reforming or reclaiming your neighbour; and I suppose this last is the only motive, from which the speakers of bold truths we have just been describing pretend to act; but are they ignorant, that, although it will always be sure to give offence, their manner of attempting this, can never accomplish the reformation they affect to bring about? Nor can it be otherwise, for how can their sour, overbearing, and arrogant behaviour, produce so good an effect? Or how can they expect, according to the scripture phrase, that by sowing thorns, they should hereafter gather a harvest of grapes?

SECT. XII.

Tenaciousness or Obstinacy.

LXI. Not less tiresome than those we have just been speaking of, nor less interrupting to the pleasure of conversation, are tenacious or obstinate people. The spirit of contradiction is an infernal spirit, and at the same time so perverse a one, that I very much doubt, whether there has hitherto been a remedy found out for the cure of those who are possessed with it.

LXII. This brings to my mind the example of Aristius. He is a great frequenter of, and a busy man in clubs and coffee-houses, to which he is always running, in quest of disputations and argumentations. His opinion is his idol, and nobody must dissent from it, on pain of experiencing the effects of his indignation; neither must any body prefer an opposite one, lest he should be treated by him as an enemy; and nothing can satisfy him, but a total acquiescence in, or silent approbation of all he says. His influence in conversation may be compared to that of the southern constellation, called Orion’s Belt, which excites nothing but tempests. Nimbrosus Orion, as Virgil calls it. No sooner does he enter a company, than the serenity of a pleasing tranquil conversation, begins to degenerate into a turbulent tumultuous noise. He begins with contradicting, the person contradicted defends himself, others take part in the dispute, the fire of altercation lights up, and catches from one to the other like the contagion of a pestilence, Insequitur clamorque virùm, stridorque rudentum, till at last, the conversation sounds like the talking of gibberish, and becomes a confused jargon and noise, so that the company can neither hear or understand each other. All this mischief in political society, may be, and frequently is introduced by a tenacious and obstinate man. Nor is this malady ever to be cured; for you can more easily turn the stream of a rapid river, and make it run back contrary to its course, than force him to give up an opinion he has once advanced.

SECT. XIII.

Excessive Gravity.

XLIII. Opportune cheerfulness, is the most savoury seasoner of conversation, and has so great a share in true urbanity, that some, as we observed before, have considered it as the most essential part of it; for, when introduced with propriety, it produces the most desirable effects, as it enlivens both the speakers and the auditors, conciliates their good-will to each other, and affords a relaxation to the mind, after it has been fatigued with study, or any serious occupation. It was on this account, that the moral gentiles, and even the christians also, placed cheerfulness among the number of moral virtues. Hear what Saint Thomas says on this head, in l. 2. quæst. 168. art. 2. after declaring cheerfulness to be a virtue, he describes the delight that results from it, not only to be useful, but necessary also for the purpose of giving ease and relaxation to the soul: Hujusmodi autem dicta, vel facta, in quibus non quæritur nisi delectatio animalis, vocantur ludicra vel jocosa. Et ideo necesse est talibus interdum uti, quasi ad quandam animæ quietem.

LXIV. Men who are always grave, may be termed a sort of entities between men and statues. Risibility being a property or quality inseparable from reason, he who denies himself the pleasure of laughing, degrades himself below the degree of a rational animal. Fools, are apt to esteem such people as men of sense, judgment, and mature understanding. But is a man’s deporting himself with the dryness and rigidity of a stock or a stone, a proof of his understanding? No brute is capable of laughing; and ought a property that is common to every brute, to be considered as a descriptive mark of, and the characteristic of a man of understanding? I look upon such a carriage, to bespeak an obstinate genius, and a man of a sullen temper. The antients were used to say, that all those who had ever entered the enchanted cavern of Trophonius, never laughed afterwards. If there is any truth in this story, which many people doubt, it is probable, that the infernal deity who was consulted in that cavern, instilled into those who consulted him this black diabolical melancholy.

SECT. XIV.

Disgusting or unseasonable Jocoseness.

LXV. But excessive gravity, is perhaps not more repugnant to true Urbanity, than unseasonable jocoseness. Pleasantry in conversation, can be disagreeable but in three ways; by exceeding in the quantity of it, by indecency in the quality of it, and by its being deficient in point of nature.

LXVI. He who is always laughing and upon the gog, may be more properly termed a buffoon, than a man of good-breeding. No person makes himself more ridiculous, than one who is always laughing, and he who is always affecting to be gay, is ever disgusting; and a man likewise who acts the jack-pudding all his life, is a mere jack-pudding and nothing more.

LXVII. Cheerfulness may be also reprehensible, by degenerating into ribaldry, or by being over satyrical. The first, is properly the language of stables and tippling houses, and as I don’t write for lacqueys, grooms, and coachmen, we shall pass this over, and proceed on to the second point. Those who have a high opinion of their own talents, are very frequently guilty of this fault. I mean to speak of those who set themselves up for dictators, but who ought more properly to be termed babblers and praters, but I do not mean to enumerate in this catalogue, such, as may be truly termed men of understanding, but such only as Horace spoke of, when he said, that if opportunities occurred for indulging their satyrical vein, they made no scruple of lashing their most intimate friends.

Dummodo risum

Excutiat sibi, non hic cuiquam parcet amico.

Of those, who according to the description given of them by Ennius, could more easily retain in their mouths a hot iron, than a keen saying; these are a sort of people, who seem to claim a right of making error pass for sterling gold, of converting comedy into tragedy, injurious treatment into good behaviour, and of converting honey also into poison. Their tongues may be compared to those of the lions, which are so rough and sharp, that wherever they lick they take the skin off. They are also called hummers; and so they are, for like wasps, hornets, flies, and all other vile insects of the humming kind, they the instant they have hummed, implant their sting.

LXVIII. But let them make what parade they will of their abilities, they can never escape being noted for malignant or troublesome people; and whether they are one or the other, all honest men should either discard them from their company, or restrain them by threatenings. The Count de Amayuelas, whom I became acquainted with in my youth, said to a gentleman of this kind, who had taken frequent occasions to say rude and ill-natured things to him, under the pretence of being jocose, Friend Don N. I have bore with several indelicacies from you, and you may vent as many more upon me as you think proper, but let it be understood between us from henceforward, that for every indelicacy you must expect a stab. By which intimation, he took the sting out of the tail of the hummer.

LXIX. There is a serious fault in hummers, and one that they very frequently commit, which is their exercising their banter upon common-place things, and general topics, and pointing their sneers, for example, against the rank, or nation of the person they attack. I am obliged for this observation, to that great master of Urbanity Quintilian; these are his words: Male etiam dicitur quod in plures convenit: si, aut nationes totæ incessantur, aut ordines, aut conditio, aut studia multorum. People of steril geniuses, are the most apt to fall into this absurdity, who being at a loss what to say concerning men’s actions or personal qualities, fall upon some common-place observations, respecting their condition, country, &c.

LXX. The reason why this should be avoided is, because among the multitude of those who are comprehended in common-place and general observations, there may be more than a few of them, who may construe the hum into an affront; and although they may not have been present at the conversation in which this happened, upon hearing afterwards what passed in it, may be excited to shew their resentment against what they have been told was said, which is a thing I have often experienced. And I have also seen this attended with not a little injury to common-place hummers, who have drawn on themselves resentments they were not aware of. But although there should be no danger attending this practice, it should be avoided from motives of equity; for notwithstanding pleasantry is in its own simple nature innocent, it is not right to exercise it towards him, who may fancy himself injured by it. Those who are so tender and delicate, that they would feel as a hard blow, what to others would only seem a playful pat with the hand, should never be so much as lightly touched with the finger, for if the lightest touch goes to their hearts, whoever touches them can’t fail to wound them. It not being possible then, for those who deal in general or common-place humour and banter, to avoid giving offence to many people, every one who would be thought a man of urbanity or good-breeding, should abstain from that practice entirely.

LXXI. Finally, all pleasantry that is not natural is disgusting. Those who without genius attempt to be witty, soon grow tiresome, and make themselves appear ridiculous. There is nothing more insipid, than a man who is desirous of making himself seem entertaining, by venting studied conceits, and by aukward and forced endeavours to imitate people of natural humour. It is true, that they succeed in part of what they aim to accomplish, which is the making other men laugh, but then they themselves, and not their wit, stand as the object of their laughter. If there happens to be a man in a town, who is remarkable and celebrated for his humour, and saying of good things, twenty or thirty others, will attempt to imitate and set themselves in competition with him; but all their endeavours, will never enable them to exhibit more than a ridiculous mock copy of that person. Mankind don’t care to be convinced, that in this and all other such endowments, nature not only furnishes the means, but does the whole executive part of the business herself. It is for the want of making this reflection, that those who are the least qualified for it by nature, attempt to imitate others, on whom she has with a bountiful hand bestowed the choicest qualities. The exceeding likeness there is between a man and a monkey, seems to me to be greater still, if in making the comparison between them, we begin with the man first. It has been insisted, that both in Asia and Africa, there have been apes or monkeys found, who have the exact appearance of men; and I insist, that in Africa, Asia, and Europe, and in all other places, there are men who have the exact appearance of monkeys, and in effect, that they put on, or wear this appearance, by their attempting to imitate each other. There never starts up an excellent original in our species, of which you will not see innumerable affected copies; but then these are a sort of copies, that never exceed a mock scare-crow imitation.

SECT. XV.

Ostentation of Knowledge.

LXXII. Science is a treasure that should be expended with œconomy, and not squandered away profusely. It is of great value to the possessor who lays it out sparingly, but if squandered and made ostentation of, it becomes trifling and ridiculous; and indeed upon a strict enquiry, it will be found that they very seldom possess it, who boast or make parade of being masters of it. They who know but little, are the only people, who in all places, are fond of exposing their whole stock of knowledge to view. They never enter into a conversation, that without waiting a fit opportunity for doing it, they don’t exhibit their whole scanty budget of informations. Between those who are truly learned, and men of but slender literary acquisitions, there is the same difference, that there is between merchants who keep great stocks of goods, and pedlars who go about with a pack. The first in their warehouses, lay up large assortments of things, where all people may resort, and be furnished with what they have occasion for; the others carry their miserable scanty shop of wares at their backs, and there is neither street, alley, or corner, where they don’t cry them about, and expose and offer them to sale.

LXXIII. Some are so simple, as among all classes of people, to introduce, or as we may say lug-in by the head and shoulders, a conversation, on the subject of the profession they were bred to. The abbé Bellegarde, tells a story of a military man, who in a visit he made to some ladies, without being asked to do it by any body, set himself about relating very circumstantially, all the particulars of a siege he had been employed in, which he did in all the technical terms of military art, taking care also, to mention the regiments and officers that assisted at it, and to describe minutely, all the manoeuvres both of the besiegers and the besieged, from the time of investing the place to the day of its surrender; which tedious relation, must without doubt have been very entertaining to the ladies. But Moliere’s comic description of these sort of people, which he gives us in the character of a young practitioner in surgery, is more laughable still; who in one of his first visits to a lady he paid his addresses to, after having exhausted all his compliments, in anatomical phrases and chyrurgical terms of art, invited her to see the dissection of a dead body, and expressed how greatly he should be obliged to her for her company; for that he himself was to be the operator. This undoubtedly could not fail of affording a pleasing entertainment to a delicate and tender-hearted lady.

LXXIV. One of the most essential instructions that can be acquired by true Urbanity, is that of learning upon all occurrences, to accommodate yourself and your conversation, to the genius and capacities of your company; and of leaving to the choice of others, the subject-matter of discourse, and in following them in the pursuit of it, as far as they shall find it pleasing and agreeable to carry it. He is not more absurd and extravagant who talks to another on a subject or faculty he does not understand, than he, who talks to him in a language he is an utter stranger to.

SECT. VI.

Affectation of Superiority.

LXXV. The different behaviour of some people at their first entrance into a room, and after their coming to engage in conversation with the company they find there, is very remarkable. At their first coming in, if the people they meet happen not to be such as they are pretty intimate with, they seem over and above complaisant, make most respectful congées, are very hyperbolical in their professions of attachment and esteem to every one they accost, and are very profuse of their offers to oblige and serve them; but after a little while, they begin to draw themselves up, to assume an air of gravity and consequence, and in all their words and actions, to behave as if they were vested with a senatorial, or legislative authority. Such a man begins to array himself with a habit of importance, and to appear on the theatre with an air of pomp and arrogance. He lays by the easy sock, and assumes the buskin. His sol fa which commenced in a low tone in e faut, is raised in a very little time, to the highest note in g solre. His political stature grows to a gigantic size, and he begins to look down on all around him, and to treat all they say with that scorn and disdain, which is generated by, and lineally descended from rustic pride.

LXXVI. Treating on this subject, brings to my mind a story which Moreri tells of Brunon, bishop of Langres, who in the beginning of one of his pastoral letters stiles himself humilis præsul, and afterwards in the body of it, assumes a majestic tone, and says, nostram odiens majestatem. Those who behave in this manner, must certainly lie under the delusion, that urbanity and modesty, were only calculated for exordiums, prologues, and salutations at peoples first meeting.

SECT. XVII.

Speaking in a magisterial tone.

LXXVII. Among the professors of literature, there are not a few, who make themselves unpleasant companions, by assuming an overbearing and dictatorial manner. With them every place is a school, every chair a professional one, and all their auditors their pupils. Conceited, and full of themselves and their science, and big also with the dignity of their office and degrees, they look upon those who have not gone through the schools, as people of an inferior species, whom they scarce ever deign to speak to, but with a frowning brow, and a contemptuous look. They always talk in a dictatorial tone of voice, and express themselves with the majestic authority of an oracle, and in their conversation with other men, seem to exercise the power of a chapel master, who regulates the tone the whole band are to sing and play in.

LXXVIII. I have known many, indeed very many, who were prepossessed with the error, that study augments the understanding. And is this an error? without doubt it is, for whether we suppose, that inequality of understanding or reason in mankind, proceeds from an entitive inequality of souls, as some have imagined; or whether we suppose it proceeds from a different temperament or formation of men’s organs, which is the most generally received opinion; it will necessarily follow from these premises, that with the assistance of study, or without it’s aid, the intellectual faculty, must ever remain equally and identically the same; it being certain, that study can never alter the organization or native temperament of man; and much less can it change the substantial entity of the soul. Thus after many years study, the reasoning faculty can never be increased in natural strength, so much as half a degree. The before-named argument demonstrates it; but besides this, my own experience has shewn me the thing palpably and clearly. I have seen people of great application to letters, who after consuming a large portion of their lives in that pursuit, reasoned miserably on whatever subject they attempted to talk upon; and I have observed others, whom I have had frequent opportunities of seeing for a great number of years, and who were scarce ever without a book in their hands, who laboured under the same inability of reasoning, and whose ideas were equally confused, and their comprehension just as obscure at the end of that period, as at the beginning. Study assists people with certain informations, and furnishes them with a variety of species or matter, by the help of which, they are enabled to make many deductions, which they could not have made without that aid; but the power or activity of the understanding, cannot be increased or enlarged by any such means. A workman, who should be furnished with many instruments of his art, which he was not possessed of before, would with this assistance, be enabled to do many things, which without their help he could not have executed; but this would not prove that the strength of his arm was increased.

LXXIX. Even with respect to the particular faculty or science men study, they never can get over, or pass beyond the fence rail which nature has placed before them; they read much, converse much, and treasure up a great many species in their memories, but never collect them with any order, or separate and apply them with any judgment or discretion, and never clearly penetrate or comprehend their uses. Thus one of these comes out from his studies, like a learned man that is only skilled in perspective, and capable of fascinating the ignorant vulgar with false lights and shadowings; or such a one as the common people call wells of science, but they are only wells of muddy water, that is of no use or benefit to mankind.

LXXX. This being the case, which it most undoubtedly is, it is very clear and evident, that the faculties they have studied, give them no right or pretensions to the magisterial air they assume on account of the degrees they have taken, and that the insignia or outside marks of those honours and dignities, give them no just reason for affecting, or claiming any authority or superiority, over the rest of mankind. The most provoking part of this matter, and that which heightens the ridiculousness of it to an extreme degree, is, that those who for the most part are under the dominion of this vain presumption, are professors of inferior note; for those who are really ingenious, and men of clear understandings, let themselves be influenced by reason. I repeat again, that the professors of little note, are those who are ostentatiously fond of enlarging the size of their little letters, and of making them all appear like capitals. They are those, who from study extract a great deal of smoke, but little clear or luminous fire. Thus when they mix with the rest of the world, they assume an air of superiority over other men, and say a thousand silly things, with as solemn and grave a face, as if all they articulated were profound apophthegms.

LXXXI. It may be thought that I exaggerate, but I do not; for the reader may believe me when I assure him, that I have known many, nay very many, who without any more merit, than that of having kept their terms at a university for a certain number of years, and of having taken a degree, and being authorized to wear the insignia of academic dignity, treat with contempt every thing that is advanced by a lay man, and behave to him, as if he was a rational animal of an inferior order to himself. In whatever company such a man finds himself, whether the conversation turns upon war, politics, or civil government, he with a ridiculous self-sufficiency, takes upon him to give his opinion, although it is in opposition to that of a man, who may be reasonably supposed to understand these things much better than him. And what does he get by all this? He causes himself to be despised and derided, and to be pointed and laughed at for a blockhead.

LXXXII. I can’t omit mentioning another gross fault, which these men of slender talents are apt to fall into; although it may with truth be said, that it is frequently incurred by people of all classes; which is, being much addicted to criticise and censure the productions or abilities of others, who are better informed than themselves. It is to be sure very laughable, to think of a silly fellow, who runs about calling the rest of the world fools; and to reflect, that he who does not know a word of science, should busy himself with measuring by inches, the scientific talents of other men, which he hardly ever will vouchsafe to estimate by feet or yards, because there are very few instances, in which he will admit their talents to arrive at those dimensions. Thus a bad preacher, will never acknowledge that he has heard a good sermon; a bad taylor, that he has seen a suit of cloaths which were well made; or a bad smith, that he has seen a piece of work that was well executed, &c.

SECT. XVIII.

Troublesome or ill-timed visits.

LXXXIII. There are some men, who by being over attentive and civil to their friends, become intolerable. I speak of those, who make visiting an employment or occupation, and who are always exercising themselves in that way, as if it was their profession. These are a sort of people, who not knowing what to do with themselves, or how to employ their own time, run about tiring and breaking-in upon the avocations of other people, who are engaged in most honourable and important occupations; they are a sort of robbers of men’s time, who steal from them that, which it is necessary for them to employ in their business; they are a sort of knights errant, whose tongues instead of spears, are ever prepared for attack, and who busy themselves in doing wrongs, instead of redressing them; a kind of dealers in common-place phrases, who go about like beggars from house to house; and who may be termed cheats in good-breeding, and such, as would impose on the world vexation for obsequiousness.

LXXXIV. Those who think to recommend themselves to the good graces of men in power, by a repetition of visits, deceive themselves greatly; for what merit can there be in keeping such a person confined an hour to his room every third day, where he may possibly remain as uneasily, as if he was sitting in the stocks, and be deprived of an opportunity of taking some amusement or recreation he is fond of, or else, of employing that time in some business he wanted to attend to? What most commonly happens in these cases is, that the visitor has no sooner taken leave and turned his back, than the person visited vents a thousand curses on his impertinence; and if there should chance to be any one by to whom he can unbosom himself in confidence, he declares to him, that he never met with a greater savage in all his life.

LXXXV. I feel much for ministers who are exposed to this sort of persecution; for to the heavy load of their office that lays on them, may be added the surcharge of these tiresome visits, the weight of which may possibly sit more burthensome on them, than that of the whole duty they have to do besides.

SECT. XIX.

Visits to sick people.

LXXXVI. On the head of visits to sick people, there is much to be said, as in making them, we should attend not only to the rules of good-breeding, but to those of charity also; and it is impossible, if we are wanting in the last of these obligations, for us to comply with those of the first. Sick people, both with respect to their souls and bodies, should be treated and dealt by with as much delicacy and caution, as you would handle an exquisitely thin vessel of glass. A sick body is affected by, and sensible of the slightest touch; and an afflicted soul, may be inquieted by such a sensation as cannot be defined.

LXXXVII. Visiting sick people, is not only an act of urbanity, but an act of tenderness and humanity also; but in order to constitute it such an act, it is essentially and absolutely necessary, that the visit should be so managed, and attended with such circumstances, as will afford relief and comfort to the sick person. But how many of these kind of visits are experienced by the poor sick? one may venture to assert, scarce one in fifty. The prudent part of mankind are but few in number, but the visitors consists of many. What effect must his visits have on a sick man, who tires and disgusts one in health with them? Nor is it sufficient, that he who visits a sick person is discreet, if his discretion does not lead to instruct him, when, how much, and in what manner a sick person should be talked to. To know when he should be talked to, the physician, and those who attend him should be consulted; how much, in what manner, and on what subject, must be determined and regulated, by the prudence of the person who visits him.

LXXXVIII. The how much, is the point which visitors most commonly mistake. Sick people should be but little talked to, even although the subject of the conversation is such as they are fond of; for their attention to what is talked of, is apt to fatigue them, and to wade those spirits, which would be better employed in resisting the disease. Thus it in general is better to leave them in that sort of half slumber, and languid quiet of mind, which by not being disturbed or interrupted, permits all the ideas that occur to them to pass easily through the brain.

LXXXIX. With regard to the manner they should be talked to in, it ought to be such, as by no means should inquiet or disturb them; and to prevent their being surprized or alarmed, it will be necessary to talk to them in a low voice. If loud talking is capable of cracking a head of brass, what effect must it have on a glass one? They should not be asked many questions, nor should they as little as possible, be put under a necessity of replying to what is said of them, for from thence there would result two fatigues, that of reasoning, and that of talking.

XC. The subject of the conversation with a sick Person, should in general turn upon such things, as he was observed to be most fond of when in health; for with respect both to the aliments of the soul, as well as those of the body, I am of opinion, that physicians and those who attend on, or visit sick people, should have regard to their appetites and desires, and I am inclined to think, that with respect to these particulars, there are frequent mistakes made, and especially with relation to the aliments of the soul, for by making them grateful to people, there will seldom any inconvenience result, but having regard to doing this, may be attended with much use and benefit. Whenever an epidemical distemper prevails in a town or country, it may not be improper now and then, to talk to sick people on the subject of that disorder; but in doing this, care should always be taken to mention to them only those who have been visited with, and have recovered from the disease; and regard should likewise be had, never to say a word of such as have died of it; but I have known visitors who were such blunderers, as scarce to tell a sick person any other news, than that such a one, or such a one is dead. This tends to make a sick man very unhappy, for according to the logic of his melancholy, he is apt to conclude, that his death must be an infallible consequence of that of the other persons.

XCI. To these general rules, I shall add a remark on two mistakes that are very commonly fallen into by those who visit sick people. The first of these is, their beginning upon their entrance into the chamber of a sick person, if there are three or four of them, to ask him one by one, how he goes on, and how he finds himself. A man had need have the patience of Job, to answer such a number of identical questions. Even in slight illnesses, the pain and uneasiness it gives a man to answer the same string of questions over and over again, is very evident and palpable. Therefore the method people should pursue in their visits to a man who is seriously ill, should be, to ask in a low voice, how he is of those who attend him. Or the expedient may be had recourse to, that was practised by a friend of mine, who was of the same religious order as myself; who when he was once very ill, to avoid this inconvenience, ordered that every morning, there should be written on a piece of paper, all the questions that are generally asked by visitors, together with the answers to them; such as what sort of a night he had had, whether the pain in his head was abated, whether his thirst continued, or whether he had taken any nourishment, &c. This paper he ordered to be stuck with wafers on the side of his chamber door, that those who came to visit him might read it, in order to prevent their fatiguing him with a number of those questions.