LETTER XIII. OF SOME OF THE VIRTUES.

Placed in the midst of men, the most useful virtue is indulgence. To allow ourselves to become severe, is to forget how many good qualities we want ourselves; and from what faults we are preserved only by chance and our circumstances. It is to forget the weakness of men, and the empire exercised over them by the objects that surround them. To render exact justice to our kind, we ought to take into the estimate all the assistance and all the obstacles, with which they have met in their career. Thus weighing them, celebrated actions will become less astonishing, and faults begin to appear excusable.

By cultivating the spirit of indulgence, we learn the happy secret of being well with ourselves, and well with men. Some carry into their intercourse with the world an austere frankness. They are dreaded, and the opposition which they every day experience, increases their disagreeable and tiresome roughness, and their officious rudeness. Others, blushing at no complaisance, and equally supple and false, smile at what displeases them; praise what they feel to be ridiculous; and applaud what they know to be vile. Be indulgent, and you will not sacrifice self-esteem; and your frankness, far from annoying, will render your affability more amiable.

The less we occupy ourselves with the vices and aberrations of men, the more pleasant does existence become. Indulgence carries its own recompense with it,[101] and causes us to see our kind almost such as they should be.

Let us extend a courageous indulgence towards those unfortunate beings, who are victims of long continued errors. Enough will be ready to assume the office of their accusers. Let us draw round them the veil of charity. I am aware that gloomy moralists will object to these views; and call them easy principles, that encourage the vices, flatter the passions, and excuse disorders. Believe me, the most easy and successful mode of reclaiming the wandering, is to carry encouragement and hope to their hearts, and to have faith in their repentance.[25]

Born in an age when every one professes to applaud toleration, far from adopting the real spirit, we scarcely know how to practise indulgence even towards abstract opinions, that differ from our own. Let us never forget the weakness and error of our own judgment and understanding; and then we shall possess an habitual temper of candor towards the views of others. In most instances, when we say ‘that man thinks rightly,’ the phrase, when translated, imports, ‘that man thinks as I do.’

Let us never forget that chance may have given us the opinions most dear to us. The ardent patron of this party, had he only been in a house contiguous to his own, would have had opinions and prejudices, the exact reverse of those he now reveres. It is not improbable that he might have died in the opposite ranks.

A particular idea, which you formerly deemed correct, at present seems false. Perhaps you may one day return to your first judgment. Let us accord, to our antagonist, a right which we frequently exercise for ourselves,[102] the right to be deceived. During the contests of party, I have more than once seen the spectacle of two men changing their principles almost at the same moment, in such a manner, that one of them takes the place of the other in the faction, which, but a short time since, he professed to detest. Taking human nature as it is, into view, this does not astonish me. What I find strange is, that these two men should hate each other more than ever, and that it has become impossible to reconcile them, now that the one has espoused the opinion which the other held but a moment before.[26]

An essential truth that ought to be constantly announced, is, that both political and religious opinions have much less influence than is commonly imagined upon the qualities of the heart. No verity has been so completely demonstrated to my conviction. I have been conversant with men of all parties. In every one I have met with persons full of disinterestedness and integrity. To esteem them, it was only necessary to remark the noble and unshrinking courage with which they were willing to suspend everything on the issue of their convictions.[27]

A crowd of useful reflections upon this subject naturally offer, upon which it would be easy to enlarge.—The brevity of my plan impels me to other subjects. There is one quality, difficult to define, yet easily understood, which always affects us pleasantly. It is a quality as rare as its effects are useful; and yet we have scarcely a specific term in our language by which fully to designate it. An obliging disposition is the common phrase that conveys it. Examine all the pleasant things of life, and you will find this disposition the pleasantest[103] of all. There often remains no memory of the benefits received. Of those we have rendered, something is always retained.

But what shall we say of the ungrateful? We are told that they are formidable from their numbers and boldness, and that they people the whole earth. How eccentric and contradictory are the common maxims of the world! We admit that we have a right to exact gratitude; and yet wish that benefits should be forgotten: I hold it wrong to depend upon gratitude, since the expectation will generally be deceived.—On the contrary, I approve his course, who keeps an exact account of his good actions. In reading the record, he will one day taste a legitimate reward. What reading can be so useful? To remember that we have done good in time past, is to bind us to beneficence in time to come. We hear it continually repeated, that it requires a sublime effort to do good to our enemies.—Men more zealous than enlightened have advanced, that the morality of the gospel has alone prescribed the rendering of good for evil. Evangelical duty is sufficiently elevated by being founded on the basis of higher sanctions and a future retribution; and rests not its claims upon new discoveries of what is true, beautiful and obligatory in morals. They who advocate that the grand maxims of evangelical morality are found nowhere else than in the gospel, seem to me to have committed two faults; the one in advancing an error, the other in tending to estrange men from the virtues they inculcate, by intimating that their practice exacts more than human power.

A writer of unquestionable piety, the late Sir William Jones found the grand maxim, ‘do unto others as you[104] would wish them to do unto you,’ implied in the discourses of Lysias, Thales and Pittacus, and, word for word, in the original of Confucius. The obligation to render good for evil, he affirms, is inculcated in the religious books of the Hindoos and Arabians; in confirmation of which he cites many passages from them. The sentiment of moralists has everywhere been graven upon the human heart. It is enough that our Lord has sanctioned the sublime precepts that belong to our faith with immortal recompenses; and still more may we rely upon those sanctions, when we add to them the present pleasure of performing good actions.[27a]

Let us add, that in enjoining the gospel maxim to render good for evil, we inculcate elevation of mind, the source of all the virtues. But christian moralists have too often been tempted to neutralize or destroy the effect of their precepts, by pushing them to absurd or impracticable lengths. To practise forgiveness, and to do good, are evangelical commands, as sublime as they are conformable to our natural views of duty. To enjoin upon us to degrade ourselves in the estimate of our enemies, by feeling and acting towards them as though they were our friends, as some have understood the bearing of the christian precept, would be injurious and impracticable. Socrates pardoned his enemies, but preserved an imposing dignity. There was no abasement in the infinitely higher example of him, who, suffering on the cross, prayed for his murderers.

If such are our obligations as men and Christians towards our enemies, what duties ought we not to fulfil to those benefactors who have steadily sought occasions to be useful to us, to ward off danger from us, and to repair[105] our misfortunes? To such let us seek incessant opportunities of acquitting our debt. Gratitude will prolong the pleasure conferred by their benefits.

Indulgence, and the desire to oblige, seem to me the two principal means of conciliating to ourselves the affections of our kind. A virtue which at least commands their esteem is integrity. Not only is he who practises it, faithful to his engagements, since he allows no promises of his to be held slight, but his uprightness makes itself felt in all his actions, and frankness in all his conversation. The faults that he commits he is prompt to acknowledge; he confesses them without false shame, and seeks neither to exaggerate nor extenuate them. Touching the interests which are common to him and other people, he decides for simple justice; and, in so awarding, does not deem that he injures himself, his first possession being his own self-respect. Without rendering me high services, he obliges me in the lesser charities, and procures me one of the most vivid pleasures I can taste, that of contemplating a noble character.

Among the virtues which ought to secure a kind regard, we universally assign to modesty a high rank. A simple and modest man lives unknown, until a moment, which he could not have foreseen, reveals his estimable qualities and his generous actions. I compare him to the concealed flower springing from an humble stem, which escapes the view, and is discovered only by its perfume. Pride quickly fixes the eye, and he who is always his own eulogist, dispenses every other person from the obligation to praise him. A truly modest man, emerging from his transient obscurity, will obtain those delightful praises which the heart awards without effort. His superiority,[106] far from being importunate, will become attractive. Modesty gives to talents and virtues the same charm which chastity adds to beauty.

Let us carry into the world neither curiosity nor indiscretion. Curiosity is the defect of a little mind, which, not knowing how to employ itself at home, feels the necessity of being amused with the occupations of others. In relation to minute objects it is ridiculous. In important affairs it becomes odious. Let us know nothing about those debates, piques and parties, which it is not in our power to settle.

An attribute so precious, that, in my eye, it becomes a virtue, is a gentle and constant equality of temper.—To sustain it, not only exacts a pure mind, but a vigor of understanding which resists the petty vexations and fleeting contrarieties which a multitude of objects and events are continually bringing. What an unalterable charm does it give to the society of the man who possesses it! How is it possible to avoid loving him whom we are certain always to find with serenity on his brow and a smile in his countenance?

I foresee that our brilliant observers, as they run over these precepts, will say to me, ‘you resemble those philosophers who trace the plan of a republic, without taking into the account the passions of men or the state of society; a thousand times more unreasonable, than those writers of romance who publish their dreams as dreams. Your maxims upon indulgence will only awaken for you the pity due to good natured weakness. The maxim of the world is, be adroit to seize upon defects, and prompt to censure the weaknesses of men, that you may intimidate those who can only serve to annoy you; and[107] give up to ridicule those who can only amuse you. Make a display of your desire to oblige. Pronounce sentimental phrases with grace. Make dupes if you can; but take care that you do not become one yourself, by having your own maxims practised upon you. Credit is not revenue, but a sum which becomes exhausted in proportion as you spend upon it, without replacing it. Ought I to be modest when so many examples prove that talents are a small thing, if there be not subjoined the happy talent of making them known. The man who speaks of himself with modesty is believed upon his word; and when I search for the causes of that admiration which certain personages have obtained, I can discover no other than the long obstinacy and persevering intrepidity which they have put in requisition to praise themselves. There are eulogies which men give themselves, of which, as of the calumnies that they wipe out, some traces will always remain. Finally, opinion alone renders our qualities estimable; and he who, with a view to succeed, should immediately cultivate the tawdry virtues which you celebrate, would be as ridiculous as he who should appear in society in the costume worn a century ago.’ They who say this are as right, in their views, as I am in mine. If the interest with which our kind inspires us, if our virtues cannot shield us from injustice, let us hold ourselves aloof from opinion, and while we allow the multitude their way of thinking, let it not disturb our repose. Among the circumstances essential to felicity, I count the attachment of some individuals, but not popularity.