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Ill* " '• '^'. m LESSONS FROM TIIK LIFE AND CHAKACTEK OK ROBERT SHIELDS- BEINQ *6v • ■ft- .-M^ ^^ntt'Wook FOR THE GCDANCE OK YOUTHS GENEK. 'VLLY, AND ESPECIALLY FOR AL PUKSUITS. *"!• *I«H.»s from „„e ,f ,h. iwt §««,,«. » **^-- B? (^- AV^. GKOTE. . / F'RST SERIES. h TORONTO • PRMTED FOR THE AUTHOK, BV HITNTER. R 1880. ROSE & CO. /■/*^S3^C (3- /^ 208t; Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand eight hundred and eighty, by Hunter, Rosk & Co., in the Office of the Minister of Agriculture. )86 PREFACE. »V--V-.^V-v.-^',-^ ear o., rpms little work is intended to assist in the for- mation of character. It « hoped, therefore, that it may prove, in some ";;T' "'"'"""' '° Pa-ts, guardians, teacher, and o hers, as a means whereby the moml and intel- lectual condition of the youths under their charge may be elevated. Although it is intended principally for those about entering upon connnercial life per- haps ,t „,ay not be considered unworthy of the notice of those who, having fought their way up from pov- erty to affluence, from obscurity to pre-eminence,from weakness to position., of power and trust, have at length discovered that they are looked up to as ex- emplars and leade,. in religion, in good manne... and ■„ all tho.,e other elements of character, which constitute, in the best sense, "a man of business." IV PREFACE. They will doubtless not consider it too great a con- descension on their part, to look into these unpre- tending pages for hints, whereV)y they may he en- abled to maintain and prove worthy of their repu- tation as arbiters in all matters pertaining to the formation of character. Having disposed of the biographical part of the work, I have proceeded to the consideration of such questi(ms pertaining to private life and success in business, as seemed of vital importance ; and I trust that though there may be imperfections in the order of arrangement, and, perhaps, errors in judgment, the views I have advanced will meet with the gen- eral approval of those best able to form an opinion. The latter part of the work is made up of selec- tions and essays from some of the best authors. And now as I send this little volume forth to the accomplishment of a difficult task, I bespeak for it that fair play, v/hich the world, though sometimes cold, is, I trust, sufficiently generous to yield. The Authok. Toronto, March, 1880. COJN^TENTS, r CIIAl'TKR. I. II. II [. IV. V, VI VII VIII IX. X. XI. XII.- XIII.- Preface Contents Biographical Sketches — Success in Business... — Cash ra. Credit , — Character —Hints to those who are designed for a Mer- cantile Life .—On Supporting the Dignity of the Com- mercial Character .—On the Selfishness of Men of the World... .^On the Value of an Honest Man —On the Influence of Fashion —A Short System of Virtue and Happiness. -The Peculiar Propriety of Exciting Per- sonal Merit and Manly Virtue in a Time of Public Distress and Difticulty -On the Propriety of Adorning Life and Serv- ing Society by Laudable Exertion ■Religious and Moral Principles not only Consistent with, but Promotive of, True Politeness and the Art of Pleasing I'AOK. iii V 9 18 34 47 08 77 84 fO 96 104 113 118 124 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER. XIV PAOI. . 131 XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. On the Fear of Appearing Singular On that kind of Wisdom which consists in Accommodation and Compliance without any Principles but those of Selfishness . . -On the Influence of Politics as a Subject of Conversation On the Peculiar Danger of Falling into In- dolence in a Literary and Retired Life . . . -On the Beauty and Happiness of an Open Behaviour and an Ingenuous Disposition... XIX.— A Life of Literary Pursuits usually a Life of Comparative Innocence XX.— On the Folly of Sacrificing Comfort to Taste 171 XXL— On the Superior Value of Solid Accomplish- ments XXII.— The Difficulty of Conquering Habit XXIII.— Chastity a Valuable Virtue in a Man XXIV.— On Gambling XXV.— Conversation XXVI.— How to Please in Conversation XXVII.— Good Manners XXVin. -Politeness XXIX.— Necessity of Cultivating Politeness XXX. — Good Humour XXXI.— The Efiect of Modern Riches upon the Man- ners XXXIL— The Importance of Punctuality XXXIII.- -How Politeness is Manifested XXX IV. —Endeavour to Please and you can scarcely 138 147 153 159 165 170 182 185 188 194 107 200 209 224 228 232 238 240 Fail to Please. 243 XXXV. Directions for the Management of Wit ... 248 CONTENTS. Vll CIIArTBR. XXXVI XXXVII, XXXVIII XXXIX. XL. XLI. XLII. XLIII. XLIV.- XLV.- XLVI.- XLVII.- XLVIII.- XLIX, L. LT. Lll. LIIL— LIV. .—Egotism to be Avoided 252 — E'"'y 257 . —Example— Its Prevalence 261 —Dangerous when Copied without Judgment 263 — The Love of Fame ... 265 —Delicacy Constitutional, and often Danger- ous -Delicacy of Taste Desirable —It Teaches us to Select our Company -Detraction, a detestable Vice -Learning should be sometimes applied to Cultivate our Morals -Its Progress -Useless without Taste -On the Guilt of Incurring Debts without either a Prospect or an Intention of Pay- ment -On the Folly of being anxiously Curious to Inquire what is said of us in our Absence.. Selections — Reading— Unseltishness —God in Everything— Ambition ■On Affectations of the Vices and Follies of Men of Eminence 305 -On the Means of Rendering Old Age Hon- ourable and Comfortable On the Necessity of Temperance to the Health of the Mind On the Vanity and Folly of Departing from our Proper Sphere to become Authors and Orators, without Previous and Sufficient Prep.wation 323 269 271 273 275 278 280 284 286 292 301 310 319 viii LV.- LVI- lvii. CONTENTS. PA0«- . 333 LVIII. LX.- LXl. Lxn LXllI LXIV LXV ^""'■•'nd practices' o£ the NVorld, to ^^0 ,Maxim9 and f r» ... ... shunned • ; • •^; g^^^pie PleaBures. . '-^;;;"S^-Lsa.yto..de.K.^^^ _A CuUivatett JJii tocment AgreeaM« - j^i^^te Lo« »' Company '^"'^ ... .. - ^^.^ l^^sureso. a Garden... .- ^ 3,3 --'^"'%f;isUs-d Trees - 3,^ Beautiful '5*^'^ tic Life ... __The Happiness-^ 7^ ^^ ... ...379 ;_A Concluding Essay... A f 1 \ s^Vl ^4>;^ -LKSSOJVfiS FROM THK LIFE AND CHARACTER or ROBERT SHIELDS (.^HAPTER I. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. QOME fourteen miles from Edinburgh lies the KJ ancient Burgh of Dunfermline, in Fifeshire and to those versed in the legendarylore of Scotland' and who have had the pleasure of visiting the pictur- esque old town, I need say nothing in its praise • and as this volume is not to be a history of Dun- fermline, but a biographical sketch of one of her staunchest sons, 1 will leave the kind reader to his B 16 HOHKKT SHIKI.DS. imagimition on geographical aiul historic points, and go straight to the point. There is a paljwible advantage to be gained by the reader from the phm projjosed. One concrete ex- ample, enforcing sound maxims of i)rudence and loralityis worth any amount of jejune and abstract II admonitions. Every young man, emliar.cing upon the perilous voyage of active life, has, or ought to have, his ideal before him. To those destined to commercial pursuits, it is essential that they should not only embiace fixed principles, but also strive to find some embodiment of them in a living person. It is usual, therefore, to hold up before the youthful aspirant the lessons to be derived from the biogra- phies of those who have been exceptionally success- ful. But all cannot be millionaires, although every intelligent, upright, and energetic youth may reckon upon a reasonable measure of success. It is for this puipose that a crucipl instjmce is selected from the ranks of the middle class, to which young men may look, in the spirit of honest emulation, and without either extravagant hopes, or futile despair. Mr. Robert Shields will commend himself to the reader as a type of business aptitude, so much the more because he is neither an Astor nor a Teabody. At Dunferndine flourished in the latter part of the eiffhteenth century, a worthy burgher, named John nroniiAPrrroAr. sKBTcirEa 11 Sin. ds, a p,„„s „nd ind,,stnn„» P,e«byta>-ian. Of l.is "M,,ly „f sevon, two sons a,„l a ,la,«htor .nnif-rated to Unada, l,et«on ISSO a,ul IHH. Ja„,„„ eame to Canada,,, 1850 and established hi.nselfin b„si„„^, .s.,ece.*f,,lly in this city. Ass„ci„t<»l with hi,,, at •l.rtorent t,mos were the Me,ss,H ]Jo,lg»on, «„,! his nephew. Robe,.t, the s„biect of this sketch He 'l.od ,n 1873, deeply rog,.etted hy all who knew hi,,,, a. b,-<,the.- William m„,.,.ied, and had seven sons fouuna of the rest of the family, further than to say that several of them engaged i„ ,„„,e,„ti|„ ,„,. . »... s. n add,t,on to Robert w,th who,,, we have „.o. S:tear::rTr^^^T-''-^^---- - -hi„;rpri::- :: rrii::::^ tuahty Unfortunately young „,en are often dazzled to 1 by wh,ch ,t has been attained. If we seleet a TothT, r ''^^y '""''""t of abst,-aet teaehin» S n K^ we propose to address „u,»lves. " Ge!S S; "7,^ ''"'■'' rf™"'^"-"-' o onieius, ot Wasgow, who has lon-r hold «n -ment position there, as a professor of mu°sie Z r,::~:^X"\'^-''°p"'-n<.wed'':: - - -, partioula.iy his ,,uadrille.s_one or two of 12 nonKirr snrKLPH. which have met with much favour from their R. H. the PrinceHHCS Fiouiso and Beatrice. And now, to return to our hero. Robert Shi'Ms was born at Dunfermline, Fitrshire, Scotland, on the 28th of January, 18tK, and came to Canada with his father at the age of four years ; and con- sequently whatever Scotch there is in him (and he's all Scotch), is owin«,' to "blood," and '.lo may well be excused for being proud of his nationality, just as the Irishman from Sligo or Galway, glories in noth- int' more than f'lat he's a " Connaught man." And now, having referred to the Irishman, I may be excused for noticing brietiythequeationsof " Home Rule," and the Irish rent grievance. And I have oidy to say, with regard to the former, that I am fully convinced that a Provincial Legislature for Ireland, havinf jurisdiction over certain matters of local in- terest, would prove beneficial, not oidy to Ireland but also to England herself. The number of Irish repre- sentatives in th(! British Parliament i nuld then bo materially reduced, so that the ^-olicy c . ' obstruc- tion" could no longer be practised, and the Irish members of the House of Commons would no more hold the balance of power. We should then look for .' jiitentrnent in Ireland, and a better feeling between the two countries, so that when the vexed rent pro- blem shall have been solved, we may well look for HIOORAPHKAL SKET(,HKN. 18 8..chhanu.,Miou..roc.iprocity},etweenthetwoc.uuntne. HH shouM properly exist between tho several l.ranohes of any ^rreat and united nationality. With re..ard to the rent .,ueHtion. f shall only say that, It seems unfair to attribute to any respectable' proportion of the population of Ireland a des re to avoid payn.entof rent. Let the payment be in / ind 't. e. part of the actual product of the soil, or let j be' m money-so long as the plan for seeurir.^ payn. nt be one that will adn.it of son.ethin,. more thin a bare subsistence to a certain number of inhabitants to tho «.iuare m.le, such nun.ber to be nscertaine.l by actual experiment, and to l>e corrected from time to time hy proper regulation of a well matured emigration scheme-and I feel Well assured that no better ten- ants could be desired than those, who, in a compara- tively ew yeai. would be found tilling the soil, L,n which to-day eunst a brilliant and warm-hearted peo- pie, half -starved and clothed in rags But since ^here are those who do" not agree with me. regarding the merits of the Irish rent question lam wlhng to quote the following opinions lately j^xpressed by Messrs. Albert Pell, M.P.. and C. S. Real M.F., of the Commission appointed, I think, by the British Government, to inc^uire into the late trade depression:— *^^ Wr. Pell »y.s .. There is „„ discj . among E„g. 14 ROBERT SHIELDS. lish farmers about possession of the land, such as you find in Ireland," and Mr. Read says, " All talk about their looking for the abolition of the laws of primogeniture and the like is exaggerated. They themselves feel too deeply he w much better their interests are subserved by long continuance under one family than by submission to precarious changes ever to concern themselves about primogeniture alterations," and Mr. Pell continues :— " I do not believe that Gladstone would ever attempt to hand over the land to the tenant. There are two people concerned in the ownership of the land. One is the owner of the land itself, and the other the man who owns the cows and pigs on it. This latter now wants to become a landed proprietor ; well, say he succeeds. He will let it in turn and soon you will have the same state of things over again. There is a ffood deal of excitement over the land agi- tation now ; but I fancy it is chiefly due to the newspapers which have raked it into life during the dull season of the year. Without doubt things are in an unsatisfactory condition in Ireland; but this time the objection is not against tyranny and extor- tion, but against RENT : They want a fair rent- now what is a fair rent to be i Who is to deter- mine it ? Now, there is nothing in the Irish character that 1 can see to justify' this departure from honesty, BIOGRAPHICAL SKIiTCHES. I5 ^o doubt Ireland has suffered great injustice at times Her industries were at one time dwarfed and her en- terprise dulled, by putting heavy duties on her goods That ,vas unjustifiable. Of course Ireland has but little manufactures ; at any rate except in the eastern portion and at Belfast, where linen and certain ma- chmeiy are made, there are few mechanical Indus- tries. It IS in the production of bacon, butter, and eggs that she most excels, and to these, I think, the chief attention should be turned. So much for Ireland's <' grievance^ ;" but I fear if I do not return at once to the legitimate business of this work there will be-for the first time on record -a Scotch " grievance"-I say the first time on re- cord because I know of no "grievance" peculiar to SCO lar of the nature of that which is now agif^t- ing the Emerald Isle; for Scotland, somehow has always had the pluck, resource, courage, stamina, or -call It what you will-to meet her difficulties taiily and squarely, and overcome them without such murmurings as have (whether rightly or wrongly I need not say) so frequently characterized the Irish. And, looking back at the centuries of hardslnp through which Scotland has plodded on though there is but little wonder at her present powers of endurance as a nation, yet there I's infi- nite praise due the Scotch nationalitv for th. ...at 10 ROBERT SHIKLDS, heroism displayed, not more at Stirling or Ban- iiockburn, than in all those minor matters which as " grievances" have been overcome, chiefly through the patience, perseverance and thrift of a people, whose hardy sons in America will doubtless remem- ber their own " Fatherland" with as much patriotic emotion as their own " mither tongue " expresses in the following stanzas composed by Andrew Wanless, whose little volume of "Poems and Songs" should find a place in the library of every Scotchman, be he " Highland " or " Lowland," rich or poor. OUR MITHER TONGUEi It's monie a day t»ince first we left AiiM Scotland's rugged liills- Her heath 'ry braes and jjow'ny glen-s, Her bonny winding rills. We lo'ed her in the by-gane time, When life and hope were yoiuig; We lo'e her still wi' right gnid will, And glory in her tongue ! Can we forget the simmer days Whan we gat leave frae scluile, How we gaed birrin' down the braes To daidle in the ikjoI 1 Or to the glen we'd slip awa' Where hazel cluKter? hung, And wake the echoes o' the IuIIb — Wi' om* auld mither tongue, BIOGBAPHICAL SKKTCHLS. Can we forget the lonesome kirk Where gloomy ivies creep ? Can we forget the auld kirk-yar.l Where our forefathers sleep ? We'll ne'er forget that glorious lanil Where Scott and Burns sung Their sangs are printed on our hearts In our auld mither tongue. Auld S'-oi,.and ! land o' mickle fame .' The land where Wallace trod, The land where heartfelt praise ascends, I'p to the throne of God ! J-and where the martyrs sleep in peace, Where infant freedom sprung, Where Knox in tones of thunder spoke, In our aidd mither tongue ! Now, Scotland, dinna ye be blate 'Mang nations crousely craw. Your callans are nae donnert sumphs, Your lasses bang them a'. The glisks o' heaven will never fade. That hoi)e around us flung When first we breath'd the tale o' love • In our auld mither tongue ! O ! let us ne'er forget our hanie, Auld Scotland's hills and cairns; And let us a' where'er we be. Aye strive " to be guid bai'ms ; » And when we meet wi' want or age A-hirpling o'er a rung, We'll tak' their part and cheer their heart Wj our auld mither tongue J 17 iT CHAPTER II. SUCCESS IN BUSINESS. ROBERT SHIELDS is a bright example of what may be accomplished in business, by a proper combination of the several requirements which I purpose referring to in this chapter. Let the young man who contemplates a commercial life, begin with the idea that he must lay a proper founda- tion, and he may hope to succeed. But what, it may be asked, is the purpoi-t of this phrase, " laying a foundation ? " What does it mean ? Why the laying of the foundation simply consists in the advantage of proper business education, you say — yes, more than that ; it includes something of infinitely greater weight and importance ; it means the obtaining of a sound moral and religious training. Let every young man remember that, if he would succeed in business, he must start out with an honest determi- nation to deal fairly, to " do unto others as he would wish to be done by." Let him not be ashamed of 'eligion. I could point him to several greot men in SUCCESS IN BCSINESS. 19 Britoin-great men, I say, though only mc-chante- who have had their regular religious service daily, for the benefit of their men. Take for example, the case of Samuel Budgett, whose immense establish- ment m Bristol is a monument which has for many years testified to the keen foresight, ene.^y and, above all, great morality of ite founder. Here not- withstanding the energy with which business was pushed, and the systematic ec(momizi,,g of time that characterized every department, there was found snfticent time every day for "family woi^hi,,."- What : you exclaim_/am;;y worship amongst a parcel ot "hands." Yes. family worship; and it 2 -ually conducted by Mr. Budgett Mmself, o one of his sons, or if none of the principals happened to be pre^nt ,t the appointed W, some other per- •son who had suflioient religious training would by pre™„s arrangement (for everything proceeded iiki lock-work.; nothing was left to chance), take the lea. and though the service wa, of tie simples kind and lasted but a half-hour, it had no incoLd- erablo influence in briagi'iig about the general result -success You see it was the moral and religious erne t ,,, ,^„, „„, ;„ ^,^ ^,^,.^^^ ^ ^^^^ ^^ pal factor, the corner-stone in the f„„„er this, that your nei^dibcurs. who are in more affluent circun,stances than yourself, are not going to trouble themselves by looking down" on you, because you are not "keepin-. up appearances." They have, if they are sensibi: people, too much to do in an honest way for that ; and 1 they are not sensible people, you need not fear then, sneers or derision, because perchance the heels ot your boots are bevelled off too nmch from constant wear, or because your wife is compelled to do with ewer dresses or scantier ribbons. Never nund the jewellery, so long as you can pay the rent on quarter- day. A man who can say <' I owe no man anything" ^s the man who ought to be able to gladden the heaHs man 71 ''''""' '^'' ""^'^ ^-"^-"^^ ^^an the man who keeps up appearances only by keeping up a hne of discount at the Bank. The great lesson to 2U UOHKHT HIIIKLnS. be learned on the tlireshold ot life is this : that" con- tentment is hetter than riches," anil that it is far more hononrable and satisfying to be, than to seem. Half the iniserie.s of existence to a man in an active business car«'er may be traced to the eai^erness with which many pursue wealth, and strive to jostle one another in the race to atHuence and independence. The study of np| earances is only one phase of this insatiable passion. Whatever story " ap|iearances" may tell, let hon- esty characterize every act; and in this connection I would say that the law with regard to bankruptcy is such as to give the really honest man an opportun- ity in a peculiar way, of proving his honesty. For example, suppose the certiticate^onou a r h . ' ^"'''"'"" "^ "'^^'^^"^ --'- to en- w h a , 'T''' '^^' ^' ^^'^ *•-"-• -editors been lid"h"l ''^ '^^^"" which should have been pMd had no insolvency occurred. The plan he adopted was to invite all his former credits tochnne^andlam told that as each guest sat do^ 28 ROBERT SHIELDS. he discovered a ' marked ' cheque under or near his plate for the full amount of the balance due him, together with interest. And what think you did the creditors do in return to express their appreciation of such sterling worth in this man ? Why they gave him in turn a nice little surprise party in the shape of a beautiful carriage and mag- nificent pair of horses, together with a fine silver tea service, and this aftair happened so recently as the year 1872, and I have my information on the very best authority— so much for honesty. And before leaving the insolvency question, I feel constrained to indulge in a word of reproof and warning. What- ever the principles may be ui)on which the insol- vency laws are based, or their merits, be slow to take advantage of them, but if you are honestly com- pelled to surrender and haul down your colours, re- member your fallen position ! Keep steadily in view the dread reality that you are not worthy of the same confidence as a business man, as you once were— at least in the eyes of the uncharitable world. And you should walk humbly and live in accordance with your altered circum- stances, until you have proved your integrity by doing as John Shields did. How many there are who, having " failed " (perhaps, honestly enough), have tjot sufficient common sense or humanity to ■I. SMCCESS IN BUSINESS. 23 euil, their pride, and accordingly launch out intu business anew-with a clean slate, and on an ex- tensive scale, as though to show a cruel world that they are not to be despised or belittled on account of the,r former failure. But mark their coun,e 1 ihey cannot go on very long-why ? Si„,,,ly .ecausc the,r credit having suffered, they have been eo,„,»lM to pay higher prices for their goods and h,gl,er rates for their bank accommodation than then, solvent neighl»u,. pay, and consequently then- grand display at ■• reduced price.,," and « tre- .nendous sacrifices,"-as their innnense posters and columns of advertising have doubtless annonnced- must of necessity be .short-lived. They flouri,.', for a bnef space, and .suddenly their iriumph has changed to disgrace. What u,atters it then whether their tak„,g advantage of the Insolvent Act " had been^honest; they need scarcely expect any sym- State^T* "'"'■' '" " ""''°"' ""' "' *'« "'extern Sta es ot Amenca that the man who has just come -.fel.y through the bankruptcy null, is the best nan o tn,st with goods, l.cause he's smart; an secondly, he's got a clean slate; he's a white man tvKentlysn,artnessand a good coat of whitewash are twounportant ingredients in the constitution of the avei«ge man of business ■• out we.st." 30 HOi^Ellt Shlfit.DS: A word in conclusion, to the young man wlio is anxious to succeed, and to avoid the necessity of falling hack on the Insolvent Act. Be ever on the watch for those hidden influences which rule the market; exercise judgment as to the probabilities of rise and fall in the market. If you intend doing an export or import trade look beyond your nose ! Spy out the unoccupied markets ; strike firmly and act promptly. Bring all your powers to bear in the solution of your commercial ]>roblems. Compare statistics as to business in former years, as well your own business as that of the whole year in y«air par- ticular line ; and do not stop or content yourself by merely observing the fluctuations of trade in your own line, but watch the course of trade generally. If you live in Canada or America, watch the Euro- pean markets, the amount of cost of production — watch the course of immigration. Be ever on the alert for new channels and new customers, and last, but not least, hold fast to all your customers if pos- sible ; and do not be afraid to add to your staff as you find your business increasing. Remember that your employes ought not to be asked to do more than a fair day's work, and if they are too frequently compelled to work extra hours, it will assuredly be to your loss in some shape. Either they will leave your employment at as short notice as possible, and .SL'CCESS I\ JJUSLVESS. gj porbap, ju.,t at the U;i„um, of the busy ,sea.s„„, or they w,U ,,t,.ive o„ a«„i,»t bardsbip, j^vorty and Pe.-W^ «i bealtb until „eee.ity :;„U ,L:t teome aebarge „,,„„ any mutual „s.i,tanco or bene- vo ent fund you may have provided in your estab- sment^..Live,„dlet,ive;Msag„odUr^^^ o, to a opt ,„ this rcpect. Lot the true principles of Cbn tian.ty g„,do you in tl,e treatu.ent of /our "^ tb.e Bo on the alert tor leakage. Stop th„ j,ap by d,.,n„».su,j; the n,a„ who i.s „„t thoroUKhly .OK. and reliable no „,attor how elover, how ,:ood a man he may be „, other respects ; if y„„ dot thoroughly depend upon l,im, get rid of bin, And again-look sharply to it that non.oment be allowed to go to waste. Institute a system either of reward or pu„ish„,ent by way of fine for the eneou- ™«e.»e„t and enforceu.ent of the most rigorous punctuabty in' ti„,e. Have your systen, .^.Z Haveyour hours regularlyestabhshedforeverything. lather hue every n,an for every time he comes late to !»::::',•; : '™"" ^-p-*='-"ty. cmtiyat! good feelmg between yourself and your employ^ and rest assured you will not be the loser ' And now in fiuishiug this chapter, it reu.ains but say. that „, all I have written I have had in view tbat grand .suece.., which for ,,o many years attended PT d2 ROBERT SHIELDS. ill '•'.^^ li the business carried on by James and Robert Shields, at the corner of Yonge and Temperance Streets, in Toronto, Canada. In whatever I have said 1 have had in view the far-seeing wisdom of James Shields, the energy, perseverance, and correct- ness of Lobert Shields; the regularity, punctuality and cheerfulness which always characterised the establishment ; and I hope I may, by these few words of advice and encouragement be the means of enabling some one to adopt a course in business which shall in the future bring prosperity and hap- piness. And just here I must not forget to notice the great importance and desirability of striving to cul- tivate a habit of punctual daily attendance to religious duties, and a dependence on, and trust in, God's assistance. Do not run away with the idea that your success is mainly due to your superior judgment and good management — ^No, you owe all to the grace of God. Bo not sneer. I know you, young man, are now smiling at what you, in your Avisdom, honestly take to be my simplicity. But think ! think before you decide that you can succeed alone, without the help of God. And I am well assured that, upon second thought, you will be willin , after contemplating a few out of the evidences of Christianity, by which % 'f# --t(; s and Robert id Temperance latever I have ing wisdom of ice, and correct- ty. punctuality aracterised the by these few oe the means of 'se in business jerity and hap- StrOctSS IN BUSINESS. 53 you are surrounded, to admit your own insignifi- cance and entire dependence upon that Infinite Beingto whom alone can be ascribed :-Omniscience Omnipotence, Omnipresence. at your success ment and good B grace of God. man, are now , honestly take ink before you thout the help it, upon second DntempLifcing a tiity, by which CHAPTER III. CASH VS. 'REDIT. rpHERP: has been, ami will, doubtleMs, continue -L to ])e mucli (li.scussion regarding the neces- sity in connnercial matters of giving a certain amount of credit. Merchants are divided in their viewson this inatter, it would seem, and although the great ma- jority give credit and declare that a strictly cash busi- ness cannot be done; yet advocates of the other view are not wanting, and amongst them Robert Shields has always been counted upon as a strong advocate. It IS not strictly true, however, to count him as a life- long advocate of the strictly cash system, for it was not until after many years of experience of the old credit system, that he Avas enabled in some measure to introduce his own system in the conduct of his uncle's business ; and, to any j^erson at all convers- ant with the difficulties that beset the path of the reformer in this respect, it will not be matter of surprise that Mr. Shields should find his work of reform one of slow growth. People, who have been in (li '1 CASH Vs. CJlKDlt. 3d jtless, continue ing the neces- certain amount ir views on this the great ina- ietlycashbusi- the other view lobert Shields I'ong advocate, t liim as a life- am, for it was tice of the old some measure onduct of his t all convers- e path of the be matter of his work of ' have been in ))usiness for a quarter of a century, shrug their .shoulders when one declares it possible to do a cash business. They say : " Try it. and let us hear from you." They know very well the difficulties in the way of " trying it," and .so they have generally come off " first best ;•' and their " try it " argument has, as a " chneher," been allowed to go unchallenged. But Mr. Shields was not the man to shrink from the difficult ta,sk. He believed in buying for " cash," and did so, always getting his goods in the best markets, and at the lowest rates. He was, there- fore, m a i)osition not only in his wholesale, but in his retail, trade to offer the very best goods at the very lowest prices-and for cash ; and there are scores, aye thou.sands in Toronto, and all parts of Canada t^-day (former customers of " Dodgson Shields & Morton," " Dodgson, Shields & Co.," and James Shields & Co.,"--the different firms, which, for the last, say 25 years, have carried on business at the old stand on Yonge street), who could testify to the superior quality of the goods kept by Shields & Co., and also to the low prices. And to the cash •system may very fairly and properly be attributed the gi-eat success which has attended the Shields family "Try it!" That " clincher " has long since been given upas an argument against the cash system; and if more people would only try it they ii no HOUEllT ShlELDS. Avoul.l soon l.e able to l.ave everything, tl.eir owrl way. " A certain amount of credit " is always ne- cessary—so say our opponents. I suppose they mean HO long as any respectable ix>rtion of the community are unable to pay in cash. Of course ; but I mean to say that there is not a particle of reason why a man should not pay for a thing when he gets it, pro- vided everybody is alike compelled to act on the ca.sh .system. Take, for instance, the ordering of a chest of tea; our opj.ononts say they must give credit, or lose their customers-Oho ! This, then, is what It amounts to-lose their customers ! That's what they're afraid of. And why should they lose a customer ? Simply because if they don't give him credit, some other merchant will ; and so the credit system has ex- isted for so many years,with no better raison d'etre than simply because it is a necessary evil. Now, if the wholesale dealers would all refuse the usual two months' (or four months') credit, what would be the result, supposing there were no cash buyers ? Why, simply that the country customers would be compelled to go without tea for two or four months, as the case might be (and put up with kaoka, or annona, or even sassafras), and during the like period the tea dealers would have been '•' resting on their oars," brushing away the flies from CASH VS. CRUDfT. 37 the sugar hogsheads, and taking things easy in genera And then, when the days of credit had expired, the country merchants would come in with a rush and buy for cash. I see you smile incredulously. You ask me, from whence would the country mer- chants have got their ready cash during the two or iour months of idleness, because idleness-you say- nuist be what it would have amounted to ; and, you say, if they had not the tea to sell, they could not have received the money. My answer is this: No doubt, many of the country merchants, on the first experiment, would find themselves with but very little ready cash- what of that ? Would not the others of them, who were more fortunate, be all the more anxious to buy argely for cash, knowing that the local (country) trade would be so much the better for them, as there would be less- competition. And then it must be remembered that cash trade, .bevever properly in- troduced generally, and fairly tested, would be governed hke everything else, by a levelling ten- dency^ I mean by this expression simply to say that those who had no capital, or very little, in their busmess, and so found it impossible to go on. would be compelled to sell out to their neighbours, and thus business could be carried on more smoothly 1 38 HOIJERT SHIELDS. «m 0. .«u,.e, w,th little „.■ „„ Wcost^ to pay; a„,l as the lawyom- occupation would, to a very arro : «: i "7 "■"" * """■'•"' "-"■• -ee,„po, JeS witli tho demise of "old orocUi^ " ih , , . ,.,1 1 "i^J tieciit thtio would Iw n ciir:::r"''""''>^«'"'^™t«"«v,'o: ^r te r::r;;r/ ^^n ™"^ '^^ ™ would h. Tk ' ^"'^ ^'^^^^ '" ''"«i"e'^« would breathe more easily; we should be rid in fact of an ,ncnbus-a great load. " Try it ' " r et.ai ;:;;::::: f'Asii VS. cnnniT. ^j that „f a ho,,,,., whieh waits till it !,„„ „th,inc,I a con„.>a,„l,ng nam,: for a |,„rtic„lar artidc, an« ca«e, any. one wh endeavoured to evade the rule showed that e La t been h St on the previous unde.tand- 2^ be ntterly deceived in his expectations from one tern, »„ another. M,-. Bndgett, thc-efore, fe^ ha, he could not do a e„,.tomer a „,o„ .serious .nju,y than to pe„„it him to tri«e with hi. JZ ments. He had known precisely on what J mste !.»d reecved the goods, and if itprov,.,! that rhad not been candid, then it seeme,! to M,-. Budget J L wSr T? ''" — ^S--nt in loosfd at d it a r'™'' ^"'"""^'y- He consider- ed ,t aclear case of foul play when a ,„an concluded a ba,-ga,n on certain weil-u„de,-stoo,I terms intend g ^...rie those terms. He was wiiJing to give 42 ROBERT SHIELDS. :^! ; away money to any amount, or to lend, or to sacri- fice custom ; but he would not be imposed upon ; he would not trade with any man who met him under false pretences ; he would not for any plea relax those rules of business which he knew to be riffht. wise and good— good even for the man who, in his short-sightedness would rail at them or trifle with them ; and he knew that if these rules were to be maintained at all they must be maintained invari- ably. Many thought it was hard of him not to give longer credit ; he would have thought it as great an unkindness as to indulge a spoiled child with dain- ties which had already injured his health and were likely to destroy it. Many who had bought and had imagined they could do as they pleased with his rules thought it was abominably hard to hold them to their promises : he would have looked upon indul- gence as destroying their only chance of getting upon a solid foundation, where they might succeed and be comfortable. Eespecting a cash commerce, instead of a credit commerce his views were large and his convic tions deep. He saw many a family wrecked under his eye, who had been tempted by credit into a trade to which their means were inadequate. He sawmen sud- denly reduced from ease to embarrassment just by a few return bills. They had industry, tact, and a grow- ing connection; yet because a few laj-pre customers hftd •WWaftftfrli'iBOi: 'i CASH VS. CREDIT. 43 deceived them, their lawful profit of year, is swept away. He saw when one such house fell, a whole circle of families shattered by the stroke; another circle of families linked with the former shattered too; then another circle and another of families which had known honour dashed down to shame, till the whole County was startled with the noise of ruin. Witnessing, scenes like this no wonder that he wrote it on his heart that the system of credit was a system of curses : no wonder that in every establishment erected on a foundation of cash payments he saw a conquest from chaos and a step Wds public repose, that in every facility to incur debts he saw a decoy and a pitfall, that his ambition Payments was strong, that he viewed it as a deed of substantial offering to mankind " m that country were, in it, letter days, almoft al- ways made for ready ™oney, or for so short a date - - week, or t.o months. Profits were smallt hoir ratio, but the quickness of the returns made them, eventually, lar-^e F.il„..„ •„ ,1- . ■ ■^ *> *a"""is were rare, even in d stressing an era as the occupation of their Conn- ie f^ T''- "''■"'■ ^^'"' - ''''■ -0 »■ solved, from the outset stoppage of maritime in- 44 ROBERT SHIELDS. tercourse with all their possessions in India and America. The consequence of this stoppage was a decay of trade, a suspension of various undertakings, a scarcity of work, a miserable dulness in the ' slle' of goods.'-all leading, in the first instance, to di- minished income, and eventually to encroachment on capital. But amidst this distress, the failures were surprisingly few-fewer, indeed, than occur in Britain in an ordinary season. Another example, equally replete with instruction, was the state of France after the double invasion of 1814 and 1815. There prevailed, at that time, a general discour- agement among the upper ranks, and a great deal of wretchedness among the lower, trade being at a stand, and stocks of goods lying unsold in shops or warehouses for years ; still bankruptcy was exceed- ingly rare. All this shews what a satisfactory pros- pect we may anticipate when we adopt the plan of transacting the greater part of our business for ready money." I have given the above quotation, in the hope that it may be read earnestly and carefully by mer- chants who have long advocated the credit system, —and in the hope that it may be of service in edu- cating the people regarding the superiority of the cash system over the old credit system. I trust that what I have said in this chapter may CASH VS. CREDIT. 4- lead .some man of influence, some maater spirit in the world of trade, to set about the planning of an orgamzation amongst his fellow merchants, whereby the cash system maybe fairly tested. I am con- .so tha all wholesale men and, i„ fa.t, retail deale.; as well could start out on the same basis, within' »T. ":^ months from and after the completion of .!-" -^amzafon, and the adoption of the necessary resolutions in the premises, the happy result. I have above predicted would be veryT^eedily real- ..ed-that ,s to say :-Bank™ptcy would be far less squandered ,n looking after bad debt, would be Zhlb""""' T!"'''' "'"""" ""^ "J-Wointment closed to many cases of fraud and knavery The honest merchant would not find himself in the diffi- cult pos.tmn of choosing between selling on credit to men of whose financial standing he had grave doubte, and allowing his goods to ^ow old Im his rent, taxes, interest, insurances, wages &c &c ..ntd, what with the hard times and the Inkru^ of one or two of his best custome,., he was dr ven to desperation— to tlie wall ! No, the honest merchant would, under the ca^h (: • I 46 ROBEftT SHIELDS, aff^d to do le., bu™,e., if it eau,„ to that, and what to depend upon, his wife anj children wonid a wa^s be p,.ov,ded fo... B„t the e.,h .S3.te,n .onid notbetheraeansofcn^tailing hi.s business. Exne- Jtterehant, . give ,t your consideration • '■ Try it • " r-l.^ CHAPTER IV. CHARACTER; y^HARACTER !-The word has "millions in it.^' \y From whatever standpoint, under what cir^ cumstances soever viewed, the word stands out in bold rehef-a grand landmark of the lexicon Let us consider the idea : — First- What is character ? Secondly— How is it formed ? Fii-st. then, character is that whole whose parts make up the individual, such as his education, his ability, Ins activity, his temperament, his habits, hm honesty, his politics, his nationality, and last, not lea.st, his religion. " Education first, . .ligion after." or, perhaps, to put the formula more correctlv, and more in consonance with what I may be allowed to term " enlightened orthodoxy "-education and re- ligion go hand-in-hand-at all events they should do so, for the advancement of each depends upon the assistance of the other. However, as I have commenced with education Ill IS I 48 ROBERT SHIEtbS. and finished wit'u religion in the above classifica- tion, I may now proceed to consider the influence of education upon character. Education may be classified thus :— thirst— That which is obtained from the obser- vation of things, that is the world around us, na^ tural and artificial. Secondly-That which is obtained from books and the like. First, then, observation, and here what a vast ex- panse opens upon the view! Who can tell the thousandth part of the innumerable influences upon character, resulting from that-may I say-natural education derived from the constant observation of surrounding objects? And just here, and not to interfere with what I may have to note by and by regarding nationality, the observation of surround- ing objects seems to lead one to consider whether or no some of the characteristics of nationality owe their origin to the character of the country, the kind of scenery, tho character of the climate,' the quality of the soil, &>\ Take the Scotchman, for example. It may be only a notion, but I think there is very much to be said in favour of the opinion that the Scotchman if we regard his courage, his industry, his honesty, and his Christianity, owes as much, nay, perhaps ""rn"w»'wnniHHiiMiTiiiiimmi CHARActEft. 49 I from books more to the rugged, and yet withal sublime, scenery and vigour-inspiring climate of his native land, than to the combined influences of legend, history, and the teachings of John Knox. I m{;ntion the Scotch nationality because, not- withstanding the "clannishness" of the canny Scotch- man, he stands preeminent among all the nationali- ties of the civilized globe for fortitude, patience, perseverance and Christian zeal. But that climate and scenery have a very powerful effect in the for- mation of character may quite as readily be de- monstrated in the case of the Iri.shman or the Swiss. Observ'ation, then, may be considered as a highly important element in the formation of character. But the topograi)hy of the country in which one lives from his infancy up to manhood, is not the only feature to be considered in connection with ' natural education." This branch of education, as I have said, is derived from the constant observa- tion of surrounding objects ; and it is in the con- stant observation of what might at first sight appear to be minor matters, that the individuality or char- acter of a man is established. A child learns lessons of truthfulness, honesty, industry, punctuality, and amiability from its mother, simply by imita- tion, unconscious of the fact; or, on the other hand, if his parents or school companions are rude, f * ; \ V 1 1; i , 50 iiORERT SHIELiJS. coarse, uncouth, wicked, lie learns to imitate tbenw unconscious of the fact. And so I might go on and enumerate a thousand particulars in description of the great influen. 3 "natural education" has upon character. How very important then that these ■seemmgly trivial matters should he strictly and closely attended to by parents in the training of their children. " Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."— Prov. xxii. G. Secondly— Education consists in that which is obtained from books. Here another vast field opens before us. Books! TV here shallwe begin? With the Bible? Alas! How little time w^ devote to the systematic study of the book of books? But we need not be discouraged about the prospect of rapid improvement and advancement in public opinion regarding the study of the Bible, especially in the Public Schools. It i,s now beginning to be felt necessary to have the Bible read in schools, and so long as " dogma" be left alone, I think there can be nothing better calculated to do good in the for- mation of character in education than the regular reading of a small portion of the Holy Scriprures. If properly understood, and properly conducted by the teacher or master, and with due solemnity, it must have the effect of implanting in the breast of . CHAUACTKH. 51 each child, a desiie and a determination to shun evil, and aspire to that which is good and honourable. I must not forget to say that I think the character of Robert Shields was largely formed by a careful study of the Bible, and hence the uprightness ot the man. His early training was well directed, and as he grew up he was taught to love the study of the Bible, and to follow up its precepts. I have fre- quently met him on a Sunday afternoon wending his way to Sabbath school, and I can speak from my own knowledge in this respect. I know his great charity. I know how he has given largely to charitable institutions in Toronto ; but I know also something about his munificence in aid of his own Church. Many persons will remem- ber with feelings of regret that good old church formerly known as Dr. Jennings' Church, on the south-east comer of Richmond and Bay Streets, Toronto. It was here that Robert Shields was wont to attend Divine Service ; it was here, under the able and kindly teachings of that divine. Dr. Jennings, that Robert Shields learned to prize those Bible truths which by degrees, and almost imper- ceptibly, laid deep and broad the foundation of a noble Christian character. And it was upon this Church that his affection was placed. And I have only to add that he proved his liberality and Christ- 52 KOBEKT SHIELDS. ian zeal by making a donation of some $4000 in hum. da K,n ofth.. debt upon the Church, and in pavxnLnt ot the outatandmg interest. But I must hasten now to consider the education from other books than the Bible ; and to be brief 1 will simply touch here and there, and leave the reader to follow such course as to him may seem best. First I have to observe thechange which seems tobe taking place in our universities and colleges with regard to the quantity of "classics" necessary to the completion of a liberal education." The move is cer- tainly one in the right direction. Less classics and more "natural science," more "modern languages" And now, with the aid of rapid strides in modern •tivention, from the steam engine down to Edison's electric light, it seems that the world ought to move more smoothly and education ought to be attained more rapidly; I think, also, that education is becom- ing more general. The proportion of the population in civilized countries who can neither read nor write i« daily decreasing. If I may be allowed to touch upon the political questions of the day, I hope the spirited foreign policy" of Lord Beaconsfield whatever may be its faults, may have the happy' result of extending the mighty influence of civiliza- tion and the Christian religion, not only am.>ng the dusky slaves of Cetewayo in Zululand, but amongst the Boers and many other savage or semi-barbarous CHARACTER. 53 tribes in Africa, as well as amongst those so-called civilized, yet barbarous, nations of Asia, such as Afghanistan, where, thanks to the bravery of a hand- ful of British soldiers, bloody treachery and barbarity, witness, the murder of the British embassy at Cabul, are at this moment meeting with their just and ter- rible punishment. It seems (o me I may be excused, in passing, for expressing the opinion that whatever lack of moral foundation there may be to justify the British Government in its Eastern policy, great good will come out of it in the s])read of the Gospel, an-l of civilization. The Eastern countries will be opened up to commerce; railroads and canals will be built ; and the earth will have made another distinct and forward movement towards that grand event— the preaching of the Gospel to all nations— the conver- sion of the world to Christianity. Books then have their part in the formation of character, and I need not take time to do mor-e than merely notice the pernicious effect which "light literature " has had upon the character of the youth of most nations ; suffice it to say, that great im- provement has been made in this respect. Ther- is not the same demand now for the "Dime Novel" which there once was. Dickens, Scott, Thackeray and others, whose writings in the past have proved so interesting, instructive and amusing, are now being read by the people with all the avidity * 54 ROUEHT >slfIEM).S. iin..-huil,l,,. Trnshy literature, thnnk fortuno, has liful its clay, and is no more. Wo >nay look for- ward to a generation of men whose character will bear close in.s[)eetion. As the minds of men are infii,,tely various, and as tliey are. therefore, inHumeed in the choice of con- duct by different inducements, the moralist must •unit no motive, however subordinate in its nature, while it appears likely to lead some amonrr mankind to a laudahle, or even a hlamelesH, behaviour. A regard to ease, to interest, and to success in the usual pursuits of wealth and ambition, may induce many to pursue an honest and honourable conduct, who would not have been infuonccid by purer motives; but who, after they have once perceived the intrinsic excellence and beauty of such a course of conduct, will probably persevere in it for its own sake, and upon higher ccmsiderations. And thus it is interesting to observe how, first from base mo- tives, and afterwards frojn those more laudable, one may fashion his own character. " Shields of virtue doth possess Honour, truth and love most true ; Ih not the life of man most blest Those fe'ifts of nature doth pursue V" Fulton. To those who are to make their own way, either to wealth or honours, a good character is no lesn ne- cessary than address and abilities. Though human t'HARACTKU. fortune, has ay look for- liimcU'i' will lioiis, nn<] ns loico of con- omlist inuHt n its nature, •nf,'inankinfl lour. iccess in tho may induce ale conduct. I by purer e perceived eh a course foi' its own ^nd thus it I base rno- idable, one 5& 3y. ray, either 10 lesH ne- jh human nature is degenerate, and corrupts its.df still more by Its own inventi(,ns yet it usually retains to the last an esteem for e> cellen, ■, But even if we have arrived at such an e •. veror-ca for virtue, yet a re- ^'ard for our own inter. ,t and safety, which we sel aom lose, will lead us to apply for aid in all import- ant transacti.ms, to men whoso integrity isunim- l)eachable. When w.. choose an assistant or associati' in a profession, a partner, or a servar.t, our first inquiry Js concerning his characte.-. Whe.i we have occasicm ior a counsellor or attorney, a physician or apothe^ eary, whatever we may he ourselves, we alwavs choose to trust our- property and pers^ms to men ;,f the hest character. Whon we fix on the tradesmen who are to supply us with necessaries, we are not .letermined l.y the outward sign of the lamb or tho wolt, or the fox, iior by a shop fitted up in the most eiegant taste, but by the fairest reputation. Look mto a daily newspaper, and you will see, from the Jnghest to the lowest rank, how important the char- ftcterg of the employed appear to the employers. After the adver-tisement has enumerated the quali- ties required in the person wanted, there constantly follows, that none need apply who cannot bring an unexceptionable character. Offer yourself as a candi- date for a seat in Parliament, or in any respect attract 56 ROBERT SHIELDS. the attention of mankind upon yourself, and if you are vulnerable in your character, you will be deeply wounded. This is a general testimony in favour of honesty, which no writing, and no malpractice can possibly refute. Young men, therefore, whose moral characters are yet unfixed, and who, consequently may render them just such as t^hey wish, ought to pay great attention to the first steps which they take on their entrance upon life. They are usually careless and inattentive to this s'lbject. They pursue their own plans with ardour and neglect the opin- ions which others entertain of them. By some thoughtless action or expression they suffer a mark to be impressed upon them which scarcely any sub- sequent merit can entirely erase. Every man will find some persons who, though they are not profes- sed enemies, yet view him with an envious or a jeal- ous eye, and who will gladly revive and aggravate any tale which malice has invented, or to which truth has g.ven the slightest foundation. Indeed all men are so much inclined to flatter their own pride by detracting from the reputation of others, that, even if we were able to maintain an immacu- late course, it would still be difficult to preserve an immaculate character. But yet it is wisdom not to furnish this detracting spirit with real subjects for the exercise jf its activity. While calumny is sup- poi xed only by imagination, or by malice, we may Chakacter. elf, and if you will be deeply ly in favour of lalpractice can e, whose moral , consequently wish, ought to »s which they iy are usually They pursue fleet the opin- n. By some suffer a mark rcely any sub- k'ery man will ire not profes- sions or ajeal- ind aggravate , or to which >n. bo flatter their ition of others, 1 an immacu- o preserve an visdom not to .1 subjects for lumny is sup- ilice, we may ')i ometoes remove by contradicting it; but wher- eve, folly or v,ce have supplied facts, we , .n soldo,,, do more than agg,.avate tl,„ evil, by atte,.,ptin. a refutat,on. The ,„alig„ity of some people I of^,' h.ghly graffied by the view of i„jur«l sLbility. In th,s turbulent and confused sc..,e. where our words and actions are often misunderstood, and of- toner misrepresented, it is indeed difficult, even for innocence and integrity, to avoid reproach and even hatred. These not only hurt our interests and im- pede our advancement in life, but sorely afflict the feehngs of tender and delicate minds. It is then the part of wi.„lora, fi.^t to ,lo evcything i„ „„,. power to preserve an irreproachable cha,-actor. and then to let our happiness depend chiefly on the ap- probation of our own consciences, and on the pros- pect of a world where liars will not be believed and where slanderers will receive countenance from none but him who ,s .so properly called by way of emi- nence Diabolus, or the calumniator. INDIVIDUALITir OF CHAKACTER. There is a sacredness in individuality of ch.oracter; ea^h one born mto thia world is a fre^h new sou intended by his Maker to develop himself in a new fresh way. We reach perfection not by copyinj much less by a.ming at originality, but by Z£ ROBERT SHIELDS. ently and steadily working out the life which is common to us all, according to the character which God has given us. And thus will the Church of God be one at last, will present a unity like that of Heaven. There is one universe in which each sepa- rate star differs from another in glory; one church in which a single spirit, the life of God, pervades each separate soul ; and just in proportion as that life becomes exalted, does it enable every one to shine forth in the distinctness of his own separate individ- uality, like the stars of heaven, F. W. Robertson. POLITICS. " Some are bom great, some achieve greatness. And some have greatness thrust upon them." —Shakespeare. Ought a business man to engage in politics ? And if so to what extent ? These are two very simple questions, and one wo'ild think there should hf but little difficulty in answering them, and yet it is not the easiest thing in the world to satisfy every person on these two points. I know people who, either from a natural antipathy to poli- tics or through a mean cowardice, would rather suf- fer all sorts of badgering than admit the complexion of their politics. They pretend to be above stoop- POLlTICa. life which is iracter which e Church of r like that of cli each sepa- one church in )ervades each as that life 3ne to shine irate individ- lOBERTSON. 69 .tnesfi, hem." Shakespeare. in politics ? ire two very- there should r them, and he world to its. I know athy to poli- d rather suf- e complexion above stoop- ing to the doubtful imputation of partizanship They declare themselves in favour of " measures " and the " best men "-w], ever thev may be. But mark these people ; they take ml course merely from fear of losing a customer in case they should imppen to favour the opposite side in politics Then, on the other hand, there are men who are constantly dabbling in politics, and who have an unenviable reputation as "ward politicians," and as not berng above doing any and all sorts of dirty- work m furtherance of "the party." Their motto IS. with the party, by the party, and for the party " Now It IS difficult to say which of the above two- classes of men is the more to be despised. Allow- mg the latter class -to sink for the moment into obhvion, as being but little worthy of notice for the purposes of this volume., let us have a rap at our sneakmg neighbours who are so much averse to poll- tics, and who also, alas, are too numerous. Who are they ? lo what class in society do they belong ? Surely one would think that of all classes the commercial class ought not to contain a single man afraid of politics. But experience s'^ows that it is just here where we find them most frequently- cowardly dogs ! They would remain ih blissful ig- norance of the political history of their country all their lives rather than offend against the poUti.al J). 60 llOBERT SHIELDS. views of one of their customers. The loss of an ac Count is what they are afraid of. Ask them a ques- tion regarding' any of the great political events of their country, and they reply, "Oh, I leave all that sort of nonsense to the politicians," so that when any question of vital importance comes up to be dealt with by the people ai -.^t polls, these political cow- ards are compelled to cast their votes blindly — fol- lowing the bidding of whomsoever chances to have most Influence upon them. Take the question of a change ir the "tariff" — they know nothing whatever of the merits of the question — and so with all ques- tions of legislation. Now to the young man about starting in business, let me offer a word of advice. Do not take your stand on either side in politics until you have had time to consider the merits of the great principles upon which the parties differ, and the questions of the day. Look well to the past history of the parties and the men who happen to be the leaders. Study the political history of your country, and just so soon as you have absolutely determined in your own mind which party is most deserving of your confidence, make your choice known, quietly yet firmly ; and though you had bet- ter let M^ard politics alone, yet be true to your prin- ciples ; and while it is better to avoid political dis- POLITICS, 6X c-is,sion,s as a general rule, yet keep 3^ourself posted on the doings of the day, and be i)repared to give your opponents an answer if necessary. Do not change your politics out of spite to your neighbour, or because any one great wan has hap- pened to go astray. Remember your party is not necessarily black because forsooth any one member thereof, however eminent may have been his services finds his acts disapproved and his honour tarnished.' Hold steadily on ; you will afterwards be glad you did not desert your party simply because your leader sometime or other (shortly before an election let us suppose) found it necessary to send for "another .^10,000," or to " make a big push." And now, supposing you have chosen your side watch carefully the course of your party leaders, and be prepared to exert an influence in the right direc- tion according to the best of your judgment In case your party show a tendency to introduce' .uch measures as are calculated unduly to increase taxa- tion or to be otherwise injurious to the best interests of the country, be ready to urge your own views in t?r T ?.' " '^ ^"P^^ quarter, ..her than to fly to the other side. Remember you may pos- sibly make the fatal mistake of "jumping out of the frying pan into the fire." And above all things avoid extreme views, takp 02 ROBERT SHIELDS, a middle coui\-:t and wIk never you have a spare hour, look up some of the great questions which in the past history of your cotmtry havt occupied the attenti.)u of the legislature. If y(.;j are an En^ilsh merchant, study the history of John Bright, Eichard C.*obden, and the repeal of the corn laws; study the hiBlory of Lord Beaconsfield and his foreign policy. If you are an American — master the great ques- tion of " States' Rights," " The Monroe Doctrine," " Mormonism," " Protection," and layt, but not least, " The Constitution, and how to count in a Presi- dent or a Legislature," And now to Canadians, — for it is to you I am for the most part addressing myself, — study such ques- tions as " Rep. by Pop.," "The Secularization of the Clergy Reserves, " " The Abolition of the Seignorial Tenure," " The Reciprocity Treaty," " Confedera- tion," " The Dismissal of Letellier," &c., &e. And for information upon and fair treatment of these questions — excspt the two last mentioned which are of comparatively recent date — I will take the liberty of directing your attention to " McMul- len's History of Canada," and if you will be good enough to turn to the chapter deal'n;"- with Lord Elgin's rule, you will find most of the . e ((uestions ably hi idled. I mention the -^^m* 2 Lord Elgin with greater pleasure on ;•..,. iit of the at- POLITICS. 63 ive a spare IS which in jcupied tho an English it, Eichard study the n policy, reat ques- Doctrine," b not least, I a Presi- u I am for such ques- tion of the Seignorial Jonfedera- :c. itment of mentioned will take " McMul- 1 be good ivith Lord (juestions ord Elgin f the at. tachment of the Shields family to that of the Elgins, and on account of the fact that the good old borough of Dunfermline, is the home of both families— the present Earl of Elgin having estates in Fifeshire, bordering on the Firth of Forth. It is a pleasing duty here to say that the popularity of the late Earl of Elgin amongst his tenantry and the neighbourhood was such, that invariably upon his return home from foreign parts, he met with a most enthusiastic reception—the people taking the horses from his carriage, and drawing it by ropes. Nor was his bravery less conspicuous than his popularity, as witness the bold stand he always took during his able administration in India, at a trying period in the history of that Empire— a period when, per- haps, no other man would have succeeded. And now that I have mentioned the name of Lord Elgin— who, notwithstanding the Montreal riots, and the burning of the Parliament buildings and library, was, nevertheless, a popular and wise Gov. ernor— I maybe permitted to direct your attention fqr a few moments to the " Clergy Reserves " question, which was finally settled in his time. And I do' so principally for one reason, namely, to show how suicidal it is to mix religion with politics, as did the then Bishop of the Episcopal Church-the late Bishop Strachan. It is bad enough for kp^men to be J! ■H'', 'I i. (34 UOBEHT SHIELDS. guilty of extreme partisanship in politics, but infin- itely worse in the head of the Church. Read carefully and without prejudice the history of this question, and you will find it is best to keep religion and politics entirely separate from each other. And though the Roman Catholic clergy were more fortunate in the settlement of the burning question of such vital importance to them— I mean the Seignorial tenure (luestion— yet that question,too. has its interesting points touching the relations of Church and State. Learn, then, to keep your religion out of the question ; you have no rights as a member of any particular denomination, against the State. The government has no right to recognise any man as more eligible for an office than another man, simply because the former is a representative man of a par- ticular church. Too much nonsense of that sort has characterised " Cabinet making " in Canada, as well as elsewhere. Such and such a man, it has been argued, ought to be in the ministry as a representative of his particular Church. What ! do the members of that particular denomination mean to say, that without their man in the Cabinet, they are likely to fail in getting jus- tice ? I defy any Roman Catholic, or any Metho- dist, for that matter, to show a single instance in I'OLITIC.S. 05 cs, but infin- e the history best to keep from each c clergy were the burning em — I mean question,too, relations of out of the iiiber of any State. The any man as man, simply lan of a par- hat sort has ada, as well led, ought to is particular -t particular b their man getting jus- any Metho- instance ip the history of Canada, which proves unfairness to- wards his particular creed. Advocate such measures as are calculated for the benefit of " the people," irrespective of race, colour, or creed, and so far as your politics are concerned, you will have done the greater part of your duty. And in conclusion, remember it is a sary qualifications, and without due consideration of their own merit, may chance to aspire to becom- ing heads of Departments in some future Govern- ment. If such young men would only listen to the advice and warning of their true friends, they would either let politics alone altogether, or take more time and pains in preparing themselves for ^he work. To become a statesman or even a diplomatist one must first have a liberal education, and after that undergo a thorough course of training ; and sucii education and training, in my judgment, are quite as necessary iov the head of a Department, thoucrh he may not lay claim to tho rank of a statesma'L. Buf T look .round - e, and, without pointing to any particular Parliament or Legislature, I have in viuw more than one would-be party leader and head of Depa.oraent, whose qualifications arc only conspi- cuous by their absence : and I am nut surprised at the amount of advei.e criticism devoted to such men in the dai!. res- It surely can t 1 the most pleasant thing nu- aginable to such men to be continually .'ashed in the public prints by irresponsible editors, unicss, per- haps, in the case of those of them who are really top an POLITICS. 67 ng to those destined to the neces- nsideration ! to beeoni- re Govern- sten to the hey would take more -he work, iiiatist one after that and such , are quite it, though tatesman. ng to any e in view d head of y conspi- 'l>rised at to such hing ini- ed in the t ss, per- eally too self-conceited and ignorant to distinguish between fulsome flattery on the one hand and that which, as ArtemuH Waid puts it, " is meant for sarcastic," on the other. To those of my readei then, who have sufficient common sense to know their own weakness, I would say this : if you have the requisite natural ability, a good memory, aptitude for debate, etc., and a detoi- minutlon to make yourselves party leaders, after finishing your meicantile pursuits, lose no time in completing the foundation, i. e., a liberal education— to obtain which many boys lose from five to ten years of the best part of their lives— and having so aid *he foundation, the superstructure, in the shape of a .rough knowledge of the politics and consti- tutional history of your country, can be reared with little difficulty. You will then be in a position to hold your own where failures have been so common, and where so many fond but ill-founded hope... uave been blighted. Take for your ideal a BeaconsfjcW or a Gladstone, -Tid no matter how vast the distance may seem between yourselves on the one hand, and sucii bright luminaries on the other, there may chance, perhaps, to be one or two of you whose names will yet be handed down to posterity as ex- amples of all that is g. od, honourable, and great in the statesman or p -iitiuiau. CHAPTER V. HINTS TO THOSK WHO AKK DESIGNED FOH A MEH- CANTILE LIFE. JT is no wuncI.T that many fail in thoir employ- -L ments Weak a parent's heart, iove and admiration. " I"'* ■'« ontreat you to summon resolution enou<,h o avo,d such ..ading, until your judgment is ml tared your passions are regulated, and your prinei- Plos formed. If you have been fortunate enough to have aequ„.ed a little knowledge of the elassL at yom school, preserve and improve it. Read and efleet upon the histories of Greeee and Rome and of the Enghsh language as full of entertainment for a mind unvitiated as any novel. " A taste for good books will have a happy influ- «nee on your temper, and will tend to seeure your conduet.not only by filling upyourtime innoeently but by suggesting to your mind wise rules and use- VoZlf"", «™^'"'°''^ -'" ^^ you to know youiself and your situation, and to set a just value on those things whieh ignorant avarice and ambiln w tTlitM "^''"'''■'J'' OH at the same time, with little pure and solid enjoyment. They will Hints for a mercantile life. 7.5 enlarge your views and give you a liberality of sen- timent and manners. If you attend solely to the means of getting money, your mind will gradually become narrow, you will consider money as the only good, your eyes and your heart will be shut to all those other objects of delight which the God of na- ture has profusely adorned as the abode of humanity Ihis IS an enlightened age, and the man of fortune but of illiberal mind, will be pitied, if not despised and neglected. He will find few associates except amongst those who are as vulgar as himself, and whose riches, if they possess riches, cannot render them respectable. "But moderation is necessary in that which is laudable ; and while I recommend letters to your attention, I must remind you that thev are only to form your recreation, and not your business. Be contented with reading. Beware of scribbling verses when you ought to be posting your accounts. A little applause bestowed on your rhymes may be your ruin. It may give your ambition a wron^ di- lection, and lead you astray, like the dancing vapour ot a misty evening. Be cautious of raising your ideas above your situation, dare seem what you ieally are ; and if you think your situation and char- acter require elevation and adornment, elevate and adorn them yourself by exeinplary behaviour. If 74 ROBERT SHIELDS. you wish to become respectable, you will succeed in your wish by raising the sphere in which you are placed, but not by showing that you think it too humble for a person of your exalted ideas and noble way of thinking. " You must beware of entertaining too early the fatal affectetion of shining as a fine gentleman and a man of pleasure. To support these characters, supposing them consistent with innocence, a fund of money is absolutely necessary. Probably it can be procured only by importuning and offending a par- ent, by incurring debt, or by fraudulent practices; each of which methods is almost a certain source of ruin and infamy. Add to this, that he who is al- ways adorning his person and frequenting theatres, assemblies and public gardens, will be so overrun with folly and vanity that no room will be left for the solid virtues of the sober citizen. His ambition will take a new turn. Before the expiration of his apprenticeship, he will probably grow sick of his trade, get an ensigncy or turn strolling player, and, at la«t, instead of becoming an alderman or a re- spectable private citizen, degenerate to an infamous swindler, or become at last a beggar. "I consider the manner in which Sunday is spent in a gieat city, by the young men who are trained to trade and merchandise, as a matter of the : -!m HINTS FOR A MERCANTILE LIFE. 75 highest consequence to their happiness. The master and mistress of tlie family are then frequently at their country house, or engaged in some rural excur- sion ; and there is no restraint, and no amusement at home. Tlie apprentice or clerk is glad to make use of his liberty, and to fly from the\solitude of a de- serted house. Parties of pleasure are formed; im- proper and even vicious connections made, and the poor young man often dates his greatest misfortunes from that day, the institution of which was designed to increase the virtue and happiness of mankind. Sunday affords a fine opportunity for indulging an inclination for reading ; and I have no doubt but that in a few hours spent in this becoming and pro- fitable manner, there would be more pleasure than in galloping about the country, or driving to some place of amusement. " I have been thus particular in suggesting advice to you for the conduct of an apprenticeship, because good conduct during that dangerous period is a very promising presage of future success. I make use of the word apprenticeship, though I know that many are introduced to the superior houses of merchandise without the form of indenture, and without a limit- ed term of preparation. But whatever time is spent in preparation, and whether it is spent at the counter or at the desk, the hints which I have thrown out 76 ROBERT SHIELDS, may, I hope, be sometimes serviceable. If they save but one out of a thousand from niin or injury I shall be an^pl ,, ^.^ the trouble of my adm;nition. 1 will add but one ntore rule, an,! that shall be a general one. Learn to place a due value on the P am and homely qualities of common honesty, punctuality, diligence and economy. Were these pursued with half the ardour with which the grac are courted and the vices adopted there would be fewer bankrupts than there are notwithstanding the taxes. Bad times are indeed injurious to commerce and so also are bad habits in the conductors of it When both are combined in a remarkable decree it IS not to be wondered at that there are complainings m our streets. ^ o^ "With a mind enlightened and enlarged by proper educafon, and a heart furnished with sound p^ oftlV /"v ''™ f"" "PPO*"'"^^, you will not often fa,l You .-in p„b,yy rise to the honour- able position of an honest merchant who has ac- quired opulonce with unimpeaci.od oredit. and who IS able to enjoy and axiom it with a noble liberality " CHAPTER VI. ON SUPPORTING THE DIGNITY OF THE COMMERCIAL CHARACTER. "TN a country whose situation has rendered it .-L naturally commercial, it is good policy to place the mercantile profession in an honourable*^ li* 82 ROBERT SHIELDS. I by the merchant's departure from his natural and legitimate character. In order to recover that character, let him con- sider what virtues his department of life particu- larly requires. He will find them to be industry,hon- osty and frugality. Let him seriously pursue them, nor ever be ashamed of them. Let him not dread the appellation of a dull eit, nor any of those jokes with which the envy and malice of witlings console them for another's superiority. Let him consider this, that the character of a man of integrity and benevolence is far more desirable than that of a man of pleasure or of fashion. The one is like solid gold, the other like tinsel ; the one is like a vener- able oak, the other like the gaudy and transi- tory tulip ; the one is always blest and a blessing, the other frequently a curse. Dare to be what you are, is a rule which, if observed, would secure to men that happiness, of which the greater part never see anything but the phantom— embracing the cloud in the place of the goddess. The great cause of mercantile miscarriage is, that the merchant usually begins a mode of life which should naturally follow a successful conclusion. He sets out as it has been before observed, with rural retreat, and with expensive relaxation; with those pleasures which should, in the regular course, be DIONITY OP THE COMMERCIAL CHARACTER. 83 reserved as the reward of his toils, and the comfort of his age, iit in otla recedant. He spends his active days in superfluous and unprofitable indulgence, and dooms the winter of life to want, to neglect, to a prison, or an aim-house. I believe it is true that at least as many bankrupts are made by some species of misconduct as by misfortune. In a countr}'^ abounding with merchants, some of these hints may be thought useful, and be adopted by a few in the rising generation ; and the example of a few may, in time, be generally followed, and . constitute at last a prevailing mode of mercantile life. .-fir, •(I li ,S.: CHAPTER VII. ON THE SELFISHNESS OF MEN OF THE WORLD. _rp HE professed students of the art of pleasing, as J- taught in the Chesterfieldian system, usually possess some qualities which, when seen in their true light, and without the varnish of politeness, are peculiarly unpleasing, and extremely offeiu " -->.. In- deed, the very motive which urges the: study this celebrated art, is in itself most odious, as it con- sists in a desire to serve themselves alone, at the expense of every virtue connected with sincerity, and by making those the dupes of their artifice,' whose honesty has rendered them no less unsuspect- ting than amiable. We all love ourselves, indeed, sufficiently well ; but he who labours indiscriminately to please, by obsequiousness and plausibility, every one with whom he converses, however paradoxical the asser- tion may appear, is usually of all men the most SELFISHNESS OF MEN OF THE WORLD. 85 selfish. A sincerely good and benevolent man will study to serve and to gratify men in proportion as they may deserve his attention, and as they may be gratified and served consistently with truth and honesty. He will be the friend of individuals ; but always more a friend to truth than to any particular man. He will study to please where he can do it without deceit, and without meanly sacrificing his liberty as a man, and accommodating his own views to the opinions of any compar;y to which chance may introduce him. But the mere man of this world has learned to consider truth and sincerity as words only, such, indeed, as may, on some occasions, facilitate the practice of his art, but must never injure what is superior, in his idea, to all other considerations, his own interest. This sort of persons, whom I now stigmatize, is skilled in assuming the appearance of all the virtues and all good qualities ; but their favourite mask is universal benevolence. And the reason why they prefer this disguise to all others is, that it tends effectually to conceal its opposite, which is, indeed, their true character, universal selfishness, or in- difference to the happiness of all around them. It is a maxim with them, that, as there is no individual who may not, in the vicissitudes of human ■'W •1 ! ! •i ^ J' PI; -liri 86 ROBEET SHIELDS. I f ' f affairs, have an opportunity of serving or injuring them, there is none whose favour they ought not to court. They are, therefore, universally and indiscrim- inately affable and obliging. So condescending are they, that one would almost imagine them to be totally exempt from pride; but after they have treated you with the most insinuating familiarity, should you happen to meet them in the company of your superior, it is. probable they will not know you ; and if you venture to accost them, will beg the favour of your name. When they have any boon to ask of you, or are accidentally in company where you happen to be the principal person, they admire, flatter, and show you all possible attention ; but meet them soon afterwards at a public place of resort, arin in arm with a great man, and they will pass close by and never see you. They either look straightforwards, or they are engaged in laughing at the great man's jest, or they really forget you. Whatever is the cause, their hats remain on their heads, and you endeavour to catch their eye in vain. You then begin to see that these prodigiously agreeable, affable, clever, obliging gentlemen are nothing but mean, unprincipled, selfish sycophants and parasites. If you were to judge of them by their dress, 1 1 1 BELflStlNESS OF MEN OP THE WORLD. 87 appearance, equipage and conversation, you would imagine these agreeable men to be generous as well as agreeable. But in truth, their generosity extends only to themselves, and their expenses consist chiefly in providing matters of external ostentation. These they find conducive to the great end in view, which is to attract notice, and make advantageous con- nections. After all their boasts, they are usually hard and extortionate in their bargains with the honest tradesmen who supply necessaries. They seldom hesitate at any mode of getting or saving money while it can be kept clandestine; and, although they are profuse at a watering-place, they are often contemptibly penurious among their poorer neigh- bours, and remarkably frugal at their own tables. They play at cards, at which they are great adepts, and, therefore, prodigiously clever and agreeable men ; but, though they declare the contrary, they play for gain rather than diversion. With all their vanity, love of show, love of pleasure, and love of dissipation, they are also most powerfully actuated by the love of money. Self-regard, indeed, is evidently the principle of all their conduct. They appear in their own eyes as of vast magnitude, and consider the rest of mankind as instruments, which they may manage, with a little $i;l liM »- f j, 88 ROBERT SHIELDS. ounnmg.so a. to render them subservient to their own Plea.,ure or their own profit. They do, indeed, too often fon by deh,dmg the simple and inconsiderate. Thev are.thorefore, often admired a, truly wise, and not un- irequen ly pointed out a, models for imifevtion. But I cannot help thinking that, however they are ad- mired, and whatever success they may obtain, they are both despicable and unhappy. By servilely enng,„g to all, and :especially to the great, without m the least attending to personal deserts and Slav? ; J """''"' """"•'"'^ '° '«•««' "l^'o'ute "laves, and then- nunds soon contract all the mean- ne.s and cowardice of slavery. Such meanness is eert^.nly contemptible; nor can I conceive that such .sWy, ^ith any f„rt„„,„,. ,„„„^^.^^ ^^^^_ ever, can by any means, be capable of manly enjoy- ment. Liberty, independence and a consciousness of havmg acted uprightly, will render a state of the e„v,ed blessings of rank and opulence. Providence has, indeed, so ordered it, for the sake of promoting the important end., of .society, that they who live for self-interest and self-love, exclu- «vdy of all social regards, shall be disappointed in their purposes. Immoderate selfishness, like every other greedy SELFISHNESS OF MEN OF THE WORLD. 89 disposition, sacrifices the present for the future en- joyment which never comes to mortal man. But the selfishness of the mere man of the world has this aggravation, that it leads to the neglect of some of the most amiable virtues, and sometimes to the commission of crimes of the blackest dye. So that the character I have delineated is incompatible with a good conscience ; and without a good con- science what a phantom is all human bliss ! After all the triumphs of worldly wisdom, and the contempt in which simplicity is held, I am con- vinced that it is far better to be deceived than to deceive. At the same time it is certainly right to warn young men of the deceits of the world, and teach them not rashly to believe that those characters are the most excellent which appear the most specious and plausible. I would briefly advise them, vvhenever they see a man remarkably studious of external appearances, devoted to the graces of dress and address, pre- tending great friendship and regard for persons he never saw before, promising liberally, perpetually smiling, and always agreeable— to beware of coun- terfeits, for such are abroad. m Ml I. ,'SfP " CHAPTER VIII. ON THE VALUE OF AN HONEST MAN. IT is the folly and' misfoi-tune of human nature to prefer the present to the future, the agree- able to the useful, the shining to the soliil. We admire wit, beauty, wealth, titles, and all that sparkles with the brilliancy of external lustre ; and though we probably approve the plain and homely virtues which form the foundation of all real excellence, it is with the cold feelings of unim- passioned judgment. But in youth, when our choice in life is usually fixed we are much more disposed to pursue what we admire than what we simply approve ; and the consequence is, that the greater number form the earliest and most durable attach- ment to vanity. Sober maxims, rules of prudence, dictates of jus- tice, plain truth, simplicity of manners, constancy in friendship, and regularity in business, appear to pos- sess few charms in the eyes of him who pants after ON THR VALUE OF AN HONEST MAN. 91 the noble iHstinctioas of being remarked at ])ublic places for his elegance of dress, admired for his splendid vehicle, celebrated for his wit at maa- (iuera^>ii;i^^><^ CHAPTER X. A SHOUT SYSTEM OF VIRTUE AND UAPPINES . I WILL suppose a virtuous young man, forming in his mind tlie principles of his future con- duct, and uttering the result of his reflections in the following soliloquy : — " At the age when I am approaching the maturity of reason, I perceive myself placed in a world abound- ing in external objects ; and I also perceive within me faculties and passions formed to be powerfully excited and affected by them I am naturally tempt- ed to ask myself, What am I ? Whence came I ? and whither am I going ? " With a view to satisfying my own inquiries, I reflect upon others who appear to be just like my- self ; I listen to the instruction of those who have obtained a reputatien for wisdom, and I examine, with serious attention, the volumes in which are written the words of the wise. The result of the whole inquiry is a sincere conviction that I am placed A SHORT SYSTEM OF VIRTUK AND HAPPINESS. 105 here to perform many duties ; that I owe my origin to a supreme C'reator ; and tliat I am proceed- ing in the journey of life, to accomplish some of His gracious purposes at the close of it, as well as in its proori-ess. I divide my duty into three parts, ac- cording to the suggestions of niy own reason, and the instruction of books. They consist of the obliga- tions which I owe to myself, to others, and to Him in whose han.ls a.e both they and I— the great Lord of the universe. With respect to myself, as T con- sist of two parts, a body and a mind, my duty to myself separates itself again into two corresponding subdivisions. My body is a machine curiously organ- ized, and easily deranged by excess and irregularity. When disturbed in its economy, it subjects me to pain, and cripples me for all necessary and salutary exertion. I owe it, therefore, to myself, to taste the cup, and partake the banquet, and gratify all my senses, no farther than those limits which are obviously prescribed by reason and experience. I further learn from the religion of my country, that my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. Viewed in this light, to pollute it with sensual sin, cannot but be blasphemy ; to devote myself, then, to gluttony, drunkenness, and debauchery, is at once to deaden the growing energies of spiritual life, and to weaken and destroy the subordinate yet necessary H 10(J ROBERT sniEi.ns. parts of mo, my animal and mat«'rlal fal>ric. It is to shorten lifo, and to disal.le mo from peiiorming the duties of life, wliilc life continues. "But I have a mind as well as a body: a uund capabl of rising to a high position l.y cidture, aner, and to mitigate what remains of naturalln-utishncss. My mind.aswell as my body, is greatly concerne3ientj their pains severe, and of long duration. "Instead, then, of running into the aanger of temptation during the ardour of my youth, I will fly from the conflict in which my own passions are H'Q to fight against me, and will probably betray :C t? the enemy. I see, indeed, thousands pursuing A sifOUT SYSTKM OK VIRTUK ANJ> HAI'l'INESS. 107 pleasure, and professing to have found it in perfec i.on m the haunts of .lebauchery. But I see then, bu for a httle while. Like the silly insect that flutters With delight about the taper, they scK.n re- ee.ve . , r.Ul injury in their nund, their persons. o. their fortunes, and drop into irrecoverable ruin. I «.n too nuich inclined to vice from the depravity o^^.ny nature anounds in innocent enjoyn.ents. The kind ^'od of nature, it is evident, frou. their existence. that I .should taste then.. But n.oderation is e.ssen- tial to true pleasure. My own experience, and the expenence of mankind from the beginning, demon- strate that whenever pleasure exceeds the bounds of moder-.t,on. it is not only highly injurious, but soon becon.es insipid. In o.der to enjoy pleasure I see the necessity of pursu.ug .son.e business with atten- tion. The change is necessary to excite an ap- petite and give a relish. Nay. the very performance of creditable and useful business, with skill and sue- cess. IS attended with a delightful satisfaction, which *«>v ..I ,:,c ii.-u.^t i>i>astea pleasures are able to confer. i 108 ROBERT SHIELDS, ^ t ^ While I take care of myself, of my health, of my improvement in morals and understanding, I will not harbour pride or look down with supiercilious- ness or ill-nature on those who live, as it were, at random, and who acknowledge no other guide for their conduct but the sudden impulse o" a temporary inclination. With all my efforts at improvement, I shall still feel imperfections enough to humble me. Candour and humility are two of the least fallible marks of sound sense and genuine virtue. I shall have sufficient employment in correcting my- self; nor shall I presume to censure others, unless my profession or relative situation renders it a duty. " My duty to myself is, indeed, intimately con- nected with my duty to others. By preserving the faculties of my mind and body, and by improving them to the utmost, I am enabled to exert them with effect in the service of society. " I am connected with others by the ties of con- sanguinity and friendship, and by the common bond of the same humanity. As a son, I shall be tender and dutiful ; as a brother, zealously and uniformly kind ; as a husband, faithful, tender, and affec- tionate ; as a father, gentle and provident ; as a man, benevolent to men in whatever circumstances, and however separated from me by country, religion, or government. A SHORT SYSTEM OF VIRTUE AND HAPPINESS. 109 "But universal benevolence must not be an in- active principle. If it proceed not to real benefi- cence, from sentiment to actions, I fear it will have more m it of ostentation than of sincerity. I will then prove its sincerity by doing good and removing evil of every kind, so far as my abilities allow me, a^ my influence extends and opportunities are offered " But before I lay claim to generosity, I will be strictly just. Truth shall regulate my words, and equity my actions. If I am engaged in a profession. I will discharge the duties of it; if in merchandise I will take no advantage of the ignorant, and neither debase my character, nor wound my conscience, for the sake of lucre. In all my intercourse with society I will Jceep in mind that Divine precept of doing to others as I wish they should do to me, and will endeavour to obey It. I may-I certainly shall-offend, from the violence of my ..sions, the weakness of my judg- raent, the perverseness of my will, and from mistake or misapprehension. But while I keep the evan- gelical rule in view, and sincerely labour to conform to It, I shall seldom commit such offences against others as will be either permanently or deeply in- jurious. " With respect to my duty to my Creator,;i de- nve an argument in favour of religion from the* fee'- ings of my own bosom, which arc for me superior tq !■ I gftan 110 koheut shields. the most elaborate subtleties of human ingenuity. In the hour of distress, my heart as naturally flies for Kuecour to the Deity, as when hungry and thirsty I seek for food and water, or when weary, repose. In religion I look for comfort,and in religion I always find it. Devotion supplies me with a pure and exalted plea- sure. It elevates my soul and teaches me to look down with proper contempt upon many objeets which are eagerly sought, but which end in misery. In this respect, and in many others, it effects, in the best and most commodious method, what has been in vain attempted by proud philosophy. " And in selecting a mode or peculiar system of religion, I shall consider in what faith my father lived and died. I find it to have been the religion of Christ ; I examine it with reverence ; I encounter many diftieulties ; but, at the same time, I feel with- in me an internal evidence which, uniting its force with the external, foi'bids me to disbelieve. When involuntary doubts arise, 1 immediately silence their importunity by recollecting the weakness of my judgment and the vain presumption of hastily de- ciding on the most important of all subjects, against such powerful evidence, and against the major part of the best and wisest men in regions of the earth the most enlightened. " I will learn humilit^^ of the humble Jesus, a^4 .1 -I. I A SHORT SYSTEM OF VIRTUE AND KAI'PINESS. Ill ^'ratefully accept tlie beneficent doctrine and the ^do- rrous offers wliicli his beni^'ii religion holds forth to all who sincerely seek him by prayer and i)onitence. "In vain do the conceited philosophers, whom fashion and ignorance admire, attempt to weaken my belief, or undermine the princiiples of my mo- rality. Without their aid I can be sufficiently wicked, and sufficiently miserable. " Human life abounds ^vJth evil. I will seek bal- sams for the wounds of the heart in the sweets of innocence, and in the consolations of religion. Virtue, I am convinced, is the noblest oinament of humanity, and the source of the sublimest and the sweetest l)leasures. It is piety which leads to that peace which the world and all that it possesses cannot bestow. Let others enjoy the pride and pleasure of being called I)hilosophers, deists, sceptics ; be mine, the real, un- ostentatious qualities of the honest, humble and charitable (Christian. When the gaudy glories of fashion, and of vain philosophy shall have withered like a short-lived flower, sincere piety and approved honesty will flourish as the cedar of Lebanon. " But 1 repress my triumphs. After all my im- provements and all my desire of perfection, I shall still come far short of my duty ; therefore, to what- ever degree of excellence I advance, let me never forget to show to others that indulgence, which my i ! 112 ROBERT SHIELDS. !j infirmities, my errors, and my voluntary misconduct will reijuire both from them and from my, and their, Almighty and most Merciful Father." PRAYER. More things are wrought hy prayer, Tlian this world dreams of, wherefore let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day ; For what are men better than sheep or goats, That nourish a blind life within the brain ; If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend ? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. — Tennyhon. CHAPTER XI. THE PECULIAR PROPRIETY OF EXCITING PERSONAL MERIT AND MANLY VIRTUE IN A TIME OF PUBLIC DISTRESS AND DIFFICULTY. n~^HE dignity and rational happiness of human -L nature are always proportionate to its real elevation. Moral instruction can never be super- fluous or unseasonable ; for human virtue, like the stone of Sisyphus, has a continual tendency to roll down the hill, and requires to be forced up again by the never-ceasing efforts of succeeding moralists and divines. But with respect to the influence of virtue on the prosperity of a State it is certain that emer- gencies arise, when extraordinary degrees of it, throughout the whole body of the people, are peculiar- ly necessary. National adversity, like adversity in private life, prohibits the indulgence of a supine indolence, and calls for the most energetic activity. Virtues which have lain dormant, like arms in the arsenal, during the soft season of peace and plenty. s ■ ^1* 114 llOBERT SHIELDS. must be brought forth to be, if I may so express it, brightened and sharpened in the day of danger and distress. And perhaps no time can evoke them more effectually than when the nation is engaged in war with formidable powers and weakened by in- ternal corruption. The strength of an empire consists in the spirit of its members, and not altogether in its possessions or pecuniary resources. But how is that spirit to be roused or jiroperly directed ? The understanding must be enlightened, the ideas elevated, the heart enlarged. Ignorance, avarice and luxury, render men indifferent under wliat form of government, or in what state of society they live. They superinduce a weakness and a meanness which, for the sake of sensual gratification or sordid interest, rejoice in sub- mission to the sceptre of tyranny. Liberty, without which we might almost venture to repine at our ex- istence as a useless and baneful gift of God, cannot be undei-stood or valued, and consequently will not be duly vindicated, without a competent share of elevation, moral and intellectual. The vain, the vicious, and the mercenary, seldom extend their cares beyond themselves ; and the poor plebeian, though he may vociferate the word Liberty, knows not how to give it effectual su[)port. What avails empty breath, opposed to the bayonet, or the buUet PERSONAL MERIT AND MANLY VIRTUE. 115 of Ji despotic invader ? Nothing ])ut a steady, firm, systematic and unshaken opposition to the encroach- ments of those to whom fortune has given jwwer, and nature an inclination to abuse it, can secure those blessings to our children for which a Hamp- den and a Sydney bled. Such great liberties as the right of trial by jury, a participation in the work of the legislature, the freedom of the press, and the privilege of speaking, acting, and thinking, without arbitrary control, serve to render our country, in comparison with some of the European nations, a terrestrial paradise ; but yet they are advantages too remote to affect the sensual and self-interested, and too complicated to be completely understood, or rationally valued, by a crass and uncultivated understanding. I venture, then, to assert, that the writer who ef- fectually recommends pure morals, manly virtues, and the culture of the intellectual powers, by a lib- eral and virtuous education, not only serves the cause of learning, morality and religion, but effects political good of a kind the most permanent and substantial. His laboura tend to advance all the members of society to .'^uch peifection as humanity is susceptible of. He enlightens their understandings, that they may see the great and solid objects of public good ^ and be emboldens their hearts to puy- 116 ROBERT SHIELDS, sue it like men. Like men, — not such as grovel on the earth in modern Greece and modern Italy — in Asia, Africa, South America ; but such as opposed a Xerxes at Thermopylae, waged war with a Philip, or put an end to the ambition of a Tarquin and a Csesar. The generous love of liberty which warmed the bosoms of Hampden and Sydney, was not the mean offspring of envy or malice, or of a proud and feverish opposition to the ruling powers, whatever they might be ; but it was acquired in the schools of rigid discipline and a sublime political philosophy. It was accompanied by singular gravity of manners and dignity of sentiment. Now, let us suppose a nation in which those who have most influence in its gov- ernment are become, through a general and preva- ^nt depravity, addicted to sordid interest, to lux- ury, to vanity, to servility, for the sake of emolu- ment. Can anything like the virtue of Leonidas or Brutus subsist in such men ? Will they, in an ex- tremity, be ready to sacrifice for the public their estates, their places, their pensions, their expecta- tions, which furnish them their chief good, — selfish gratifications, the indulgence of voluptuousness or pride ? Will they not rather rejoice to be depend- ent on a court which is able to gratify their vanity, supply their pleasures, and reward their meanest submission? i^Enso^AL Merit aj^d manly virtue. ii7 From the most impartial review of history, and from considerations on the nature of man, I am convinced that good morals and intellectual improve- ment are necessary to the existence of civil liberty, and to the continuance of national prosperity. At a time, then, when both liberty and prosperity are endangered, exhortations to virtue, and every excel- lence to which an ingenuous nature can aspire, are peculiarly sea.sonable. They brace the nerves and sinews of the body politic, and enable it to lift its arm in self-defence, with irresistible vigour. They add strength to the foundation of empire, so that the assaults of united nations shall not shake the noble fabric. In this view, and under these circumstances, I cannot help thinking that the opinions I have thus imperfectly expressed, may be in some measure use- ful. My object has been to enlighten the under- standing, and to stimulate my fellow subjects to greater exertiQn and care in ascertaining and vindi- cating their rights as men, and as members of society, and to teach them to pay implicit submis- sion nowhere save to truth, reason, law, their con- science and their God. 'if' •* f' • ' 'M 1 1 ^E : \ -^^^ '■ ,1 He i+ -flH \< m CHAPTER XII. ON THE PROPRIETY OF ADORNING LIFE AND SKRVINQ SOCIETY BY LAUDABLE EXERTION. IN an age of opulence and luxury, when the native powers of the mind are weakened by vice, and general habits of indolence are .superinduced by gen- eral indulgence, the moralist can seldom expect to see examples of that unwearied perseverance, and of that noble and disinterested exertion, which have sometimes appeared in the world, and have been called heroic virtues. Indeers or to promote tlie lionour and advantacje of the oommunity. Patriotl.sm, as it was understood and prnctised hy a Brutus, a (Vntius, a Scinvola, or a Socrates, ap- pears in nmdern times so eccenti 'o a virtue, and so abliorrent from the dictates of conu.ion sense, that he who shouhl initiate it wouhl (haw upon liimself the ridicule of mankind, and incur tlie mm; ,vnu SEUVlNd W.ClfiTV. 121 Z *'"' ""I'at.cncc to tl,„ cu„t.il,utio„. F,o„. .0 accumulated e«b.ts ,.f „ ,„ „„i, „, . ' th.op„t.s a »,„„ of «o,Kl is ,„.o.l„ced, fa, great I. The „,otiv„ „f p,.ai,„, ti,,,,,^,,, , ^,^ _^^ . a gcnerou., „„,, ,,™„,.f,„ ...^^j^^ ^^ - • able conduct. Ho wonW .1,. „ • ■ "'""^mi- wlio 8l,oMl,? ., ■ " "'•'"'•>' '° •""'kind , , "" ™™'"='' '» "'"ling tl'o love of fa„.„ ,. hasW„t.it...t,.o„«a„d.,tead,h„ati„,.:'l of t . u,ost ,„ge„„ou, u l,as inspired e„tl,„»i.s,n m tl.e cause of all that i. good a„,I great. Whore patience must have failed weari..,! if 1 "^'- /"'"-''• and perseverance l,ee". T " ■'! ''"-'-■«''J tl"""«l. troubles deemed in, P ac.ca,,le,and stimulated through difficult! r^. f " '"■-"'■'■■"""toWe. Pain, pe„„r^, j„,„„,. ^„ death, have .«en cheerfully ineirredl the rvTl of mankind, with the expectation of no oth " oompense than an honourable distinction. ArTd ct no the r,g.dity of philosophical rigour dau.p t I h "t:;:'"* ---""^ """gHftl sensation in s J 1 ""' .^''™- i'- ""d Sives ri,,e to all that 13 sublime in life and in the arts When we are so far ...flned and subdued as to act I't li. 5 HI nil 122 ROBERT SHIELDS. merely from the slow suggestions of the reasoning faculty, we shall indeed seldom be involved in error ; but we shall as seldom achieve any glorious enter- prise, or snatch a virtue beyond the reach of prudence. The spirit of adventure, in literary undertakings, as well as in politics and commerce, must not be discour- aged. If it produces that which is worthy of little notice, neglect is easy. There is a great probability, however, that it will often evolve something condu- cive to pleasure and improvement. But when every new attempt is checked by severity, or neglected without examination, learning stagnates, and the mind is depressed, till its productions so far degene- rate as to justify disregard. Taste and literature are never long stationary. When they cease to ad- vance they become retrograde. Every attempt to give a liberal entertainment is entitled to kindly ex- cuse, though its execution should not have a claim to praise. For the sake of encouraging subsequent endeavours, lenity should be displayed where there is no appearance of incorrigible stupidity, of assum- ing ignorance, or of empty self-conceit. Seventy chills the opening powers, as the frost nips the bud that would else have been a blossom. It is a blam- able moroseness to censure those who really mean to please, and fail only from causes not at their own disposal. The praise, however, of well-meaning has I* ' I ADORNING LIFE AND SERVING SOCIETY. 123 usually been allowed with a facility of concession which leads one to suspect that it is thought of little value. It has also been received with apparent mor- tification. This is surely the result of a perverted judgment; for intention is at the power of every man, thougli none can command ability. CHAPTER XIII. RELIGIOUS AND MORAL PRINCIPLES NOT ONLY CON- SISTENT WITH, BUT PROMOTIVE OF, TRUE POLITE- NESS AND THE ART OF PLEASING. A PHILOSOPHER who, in the austerity of his virtue, should condemn the art of pleasing as unworthy of cultivation should deserve little atten- tion from mankind, and might be dismissed to his solitary tub, like his brother Diogenes. It is indeed a dictate of humanity that we should endeavour to render ourselves agreeable to those in whose company we are destined to travel in the journey of life. It is our interest; it is the source of perpetual satisfaction; it is one of our most important duties as men, and particularly required in the professor of Christianity. I have often lamented, therefore, that they who have taken the most pains to recommend attention to the art of pleasing have urged it only on the mean BEUO.OUS PBmcPLE. PKOMOTE POUTEKKSS 125 oT;r:r;'::T '""'''^^'"''''"'"''■^po- DUDil<,.h„ ^ ^ '"''''' '■<"l"'''«d in their ertirrrr^it-^r-'^- virtue. *^ sut)stantial and consistent deformJfv a T', '^''^"^'^^ ^«»- internal uerormity. A student of the ar^ nf ,.l^„ • ptiiiL'^irr-"^'^'"'"-^^^^^^^^ Such, at 10.2X2 :lZT'^' """ «-«'''^ p»;eit.itH.. iJ:;:^:i^trr:Lr:°: p imtnt to the precious outside. <;- w>jie,..a,o„,t™e WoL L :erS'r oulti^teu. "''°" '^™" ^-l P"'-*^ are * 12G ROBERT SHIELDS. It is a favourite maxim with those who tench the art of pleasing, that if you desire to please you can scarcely fail to please. But what motive, according ^.0 their doctrine, is to excite this desire ? A wish to render all with whom you converse subservient to your interested purposes of avarice or ambition. It i^ a mean and despicable motive when made the sole and constant principle of conversation and behaviour. If this life is the whole of our existence ; if riches and honoui*s are the chief good ; if truth, honour and generosity are but names to adorn a declamation, then, indeed, they who practise the art of pleasing, according to the vulgar idea of it, or, in plain terms, according to the rules of Lord Chesterfield, are, after all, the truly and the only wise. But let us not deem so meanly of the world and its Creator ; and if our favourable opinion of things be an error, it is not only pardonable but glorious ; and a generous man will say, like the noble ancient, he had rather err with Socrates and Plato than be right with a Machiavel. But, indeed, the virtues and the graces are much more nearly allied than they who are strangers to the virtues are willing to acknowledge^ There is something extremely beautiful in all the mora,l vir- tues, clearly understood and properly reduced to RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLES PROMOTE POLITENESS. 127 practice. Religion is also declared to be full of plea.santne.ss, in that volume in which its nature is described with the greatest authenticity. It must, indeed, be allowed that he who is actuated in his (iesn-e of pleasing by morality and religion may very properly add all the embellishments of external gracefulness ; and he may rest assured that the sin- centy of his principles, and the goodness of his character will insure a degree of success in his at- tempts to please, which a false pretender, with all his duplicity, can never obtain or preserve. If true politeness consists in yieldiug something of our pretensions to the self-love of others, in re- pi-essmg our pride and arrogance, and in a gentleness of sentiment and conduct, surely nothing can be more conducive to it than a religion which every- where recommends brotherly love, meekness, and humility. 1 know not how paradoxical my opinion might appear to the fashionable assemblies of St James's, or to the professed men of the world, or to the proficient in what I call the insecure art of pleas- ing; but I cannot help thinking that a true Christi-m one who thinks and acts, as far a. the infirmitv of his nature will permit, consistently vith the pri^nci- pies of his religion, possesses qualities more capable of i)leasing than any of those which are said so emi- 128 nOHKIlT SHIKLDS. nently to l)ave distinguished a Mailborough and a Bolingbrokc. They who study the art of pleasing will, probably, have recourse, as usual, to the many volumes written on the subject in the French language, or to the post- humous letters of a Frenchified Englishman, and perhaps they would smile if an instructor were to refer them for the best rules that have ever been given to the Sermon on the Mount. It is, however, certain that the .-ut of pleasing which is founded on sincere principles, derived from religion and morality, is as far superior to that b«se art which consists in simulation and dissimulation, as the pure brilliancy of the real diamond excels the lustre of French paste, or as the roseate hue on the cheek of Hebe, the painted visage of a haggard courtezan. The sincere art of pleasing resembles the inferior species of timber used by the cabinet- maker, Avhich, in order to please the eye, requires the assistance of paint ; but the art which is found- ed on sincerity is more like that which displays far greater beauty in the variety and richness of its own native veins and colour. A short time or a slight touch destroys the superficial beauty of one, while the other acquires new grace from the hand of time KKMaiOUS 1'RINCll'l.l.iS 1»HI0TE POr.frKNESS. 129 The ruks a„,l Ooctrines of morality and religion tcn,lto corroct all the malignant qualities of the ;' , ■ ■""<;''. """nvy, malice, pride and resentment. In domg tl,,s, tl,ey cut off the very source of dlsa- g eoable l«.hav,„ur. Morality and religion inculcate whatever .s just, mild, moderate, candid and benevo- ent. In doing this, they effectually promote a sys- tem of manner which, without any sinister design m the person whopossesses them, cannot fail of boiL a added the last polish of a g,ucef ul deportment the hab, , aeq„,re,l in goo■* eviden ,; tend to render a man singularly learned, ,in<^larly good, and singularly happy 'n„mauy F |u Hi EL 1 1 i >^P**WIIMM|MiM M It- I CHAPTER XV. ox THAT KIND OF WISDOM WHICH CONSISTS IN AC- COMMODATION AND COMPLIANCE, WITHOUT ANY PRINCIPi-ES BUT THOSE OF SELFISHNESS. THERE is a mean and sneaking kind of wisdom (I can allow it no better epithets) which marks the present times, and consists in a compliance in the inclinations, .and an assent to the opinions, of those with whom we converse, howeve)' opposite they may be to our own, or to those we complied with, or assented to, in the last company in which we were engaged. And this cunning and cautious behaviour is honoured with the name of true politeness, good sense, and knowledge of the world ; or, to speak in the technical language of fashion, taking the ton of our company. When it is closely examined, it appeal's to originate in timidity, in a mean and ex- cessive regard to self-interest, and to be utterly incon- sistent with the principles of honesty. " A pei-son of discretion," says the sensible and satirical Collier, " will take care not to embarrass his life, nor expose THE WISDOM OK ACCOMMODATION. 139 fortune out of the folly of his ne.^.hbour., " J venture to affirm, however thaH,„ i this cnrhw 1, ' '"'^'-'' '™t lie who adopts , f' ''"™™'' P'^urfWe his appearance '" " t <"'>• ■"» '»ng"e and specious his p ofesl^ feet as' vJulH '\ '""" ""'"'^ "^ ^°" "-^. -' toelsasyoufeel? InipossiUe. For he will assent to op,n.oas diametrically opposite, as soon T he goes from your doe, to your next neigh. oT. I, • Be lev it ! r ^°" ""'" "^ ™nt-lietio„ ? CO :^i yt . I ,;;'-."'• 'rr- "•«' ■"= '»- *^ vn.. <• ' ' ™'y '<'•■'' he .should lose your favour; and it is a maxin. with him to cou the favour of every individual, because he may one '.lay want h.s assistance in accomplishing the oLc" of h,s covetousness or his an.bition. While, ,C fore, he ,s entering into your views, approving yo' r !Vi !| MMMUnMi in 140 KOHEJIT SHIELDS. taste, contiriiiing your observations, what think you jmsses in his mind ? Himself is the subject of his thoughts ; and while you imagine that he is concur- ring with your opinion, and admiring your judgment, he s only meditating how he may most easily insi. uate himself into your favour. Such cautious, timid, subtle men, are very uncommon in the world, and so are highwaymen and pickpockets. It must be owned, with regret, that this deceitful intercourse is too often the mode of converse amonir those self-elevated beings who have separated them- selves fi-om the rest of mankind under the name of people of fashion. Among these empty dictators of external forms }'ou must learn to take the tone of every body with whom you converse, except indeed, of the vulgar. With the grave you nmst be grave; with the gay you must be gay ; with the vicious you must be vicious, and with the good and learned, as good and learned as the best of them — if you can ; but if you are not quite adept enough for dissimula- tion to have attained this excellence, it is safest to keep out of their way, for they are apt to speak dis- agreeable truths, and to be quite insufferable hetes. This versatility and duplicity of the (jrand mondc may, indeed, constitute a man of the world ; but let it be remembered, that a book of some authority classes *he world, when spoken of in this sense, with the devil. 'I'HK WISDOM OF ACCOMMODATfOX. UT The ovci-caufcious wiso nw.n nf fi. i- fond of .cttin.r int.. n ^'•''" ^""^'-^ ^''^ ^'^O' when hv fl ^ '^'"i^^"^>^ "*' ^"^ J'^'^^^t nuui, T ha^'^ I *= opinion ot then- oa\ n. ..^1 „, , ''?'""'■"■' ""■*'•■- — cl and . ou wuuld Wve „„agmod the,,, c„„„„k,io„od .spi.s wha to .say, tl,ey l,ave „ot ,,uit„ „,adc. u„ thei,- doubt ul, yet you,. a,-gurnout, ,ee„, al„,„.t to l,avl tTe tvenT" ""v™* '"^'"■'- "P'"--^ and whatete the event „,ay be, you have fully proved that reason :■' "'.y"'"' '"'<' ■■ »'•■ « i^ i» not, you have .shown a„.a;^- ■ng .ngenuity an,l abilitio. in .,ayi„<, ,„ „";;'";„ the w,nd. They d.play a ,noat outrageous affeeta- won or panHmif n^\ _ , candour. T] allowances for the infl ley are al ^^^-ys ready to iiiak< M' tj a nnities of hunmn nat lire, ex- m illMHiriMH 142 ROBERT SHIKLDH. cept when a rival, or an object of their liatrcd is to be injured ; and then though it is not tlieir disposi- tion to be censorious, though it is well known they always palliate what they can, yet in this particular case, they will whisper what they would not speak aloud, nor have to go any farther ; they will even whisper that they believe the report, however injur- ious, to be strictly true, and indeed, rather a favour- able account, for if you knew a,s much as they do, they insinuate that you would be shocked indeed ; but, however, they declare they will not in candour disclose what they know. So that we may conclude, as indeed is often the case, that badness of heart is united with pusillanimity. They are affectedly kind when their selfish views are to be promoted by kind- ness; but really and most implacably malevolent when the same purposes are more effectually served by malevolence, or when they have an opportunity of gratifying their anvy or revenge. Where compliance and assent, caution and canu^ur, arise from a natural tenderness of disposition and softness of nature, they are amiable and respectable; but as the ejffects of artifice they must be despised. The persons who falsely pretend to them are indeed often themselves dupes of their own deceit, when they imagine others are deluded by it. For exces- sive art always betrays itself; and many who from motives of delicacy and tendorncs.s do not openlj^ 1'HE WISDOM OF ACCOMMODATION. U;} rebuke the deceiver, .secretly deride and warmly resent his ineffectual subtlety. Cunning, people ar; apt, as It has l>een well observed, to entertain too mean an opinion of the intellects of those with whom they converse, and to suppose that they can be moved like puppets by secret wires well managed behznd the curtain. But the puppets are very often refractory, and the spectators on whom the awkward experiment of delusion has been tried, always dis- pleased. Lucrative views are the usual motives which allure the sycophant to his mean submissions. But where lucrative views are greatly predonnnant, a truly respectable man is seldom found ! Covetous- iiess IS so greedy a passion, that it not only attracts to Itself Its proper objects, but swallows up almost every other affection. Man, indeed, is naturally and properly attached to himself, in a ce.tain degree • but a liberal education, united to good nature cor- rects the excess of selfishness, and enables us to find enjoyment in many pursuits which are conducive to the good of society. But when all is made to centre in self and when the mind is so contracted as to see no good but lucre, it brings its proper punishment by a voluntary condemnation of itself to a slavish a timid and anxious existence ; so that the contempti- ble characters which I have been describing are in truth, enemies to self even when they are exclus- siveiy devoted to i^ < .'i asa 144 ROHKllT SHlKLbS. f^ I- ii I There are others who adopt the pus: ■animity of nican coinpliauce and servile assent, from a wisl; to pass quietly and smoothly through life, without the asperities or noise of opposition. This wish, how- ever amiable and laudable, may certainly lead to ex- cessive and unmanly obsec- jiousness. Every man is bound by his religion, and by his regard to himself, his family and his country, to seek peace. But it will not be secured by unmanly sul>missions. A proper degree of spirit and courage is as necessary to preserve tranquillity as a pacitic disposition. In- ternal peace is infinitely more valuable than external; but he who is always afraid to avow his sentiments and is led into the mazes of deceit and duplicity will feel, amid his feai-s and his contrivances, that his bosom is agitated with emotions by no means tranquil and serene. Add to this, that the spiritless servility of a mean but fashionable time-server will often invite, as it will always deserve, contempt. In truth, every sensible man must form opinions upon everything which presents itself; and every ho- nest man dares to avow them, when there is no evi- dent and honourable reason for their concealment. If a man has formed virtuous, religious and patriotic principles, he injures all those causes which he must wish to serve, by fearing to declare openly, on proper occasions, 1, s inward convictions. It is, indeed, his duty to do so ; for it is a part of virtue to add eonfi- 'I'llK IViSDojl or ACCIIJIMUDATION, U,", dencetc, U,„ virt-uu„», l,y|«|diy ,„.ot„„si„« ,v wi»h 1^°H 'r'"'' ■""' ''^ *"""»« '■»■■-"■'' »» "'-'■ avowed auxiliary. " '"™'"' "■• ""«'"««. « no Ie» visible in puWi. hat «j„d8ed wort.,y of g,,„t „«„„,„„, „ ,, l"l f "" '■' " ■'*" ""' "■» ^■»' P™fo..io„, i» winch are often, a<.o„„ii„g to the narrow system of worldly politics, politically necessary Jlr"l ^Ployments of state, l,e who cannot s^rr ,T '" "■"^-'""S will not be able to serve h.„self „„r pernuUed to serve his country In pubhc measures, for instance, it is insinuated; that no what .sstnctly and morally right, or strictly and «.o.«lly wrong, „ to be considered, so much as what « seasonable, what the times and the present system of manners will conveniently bear. At one tin,c popery ,s to be encouraged, because we are threat- ened w.th an .nvasion, and the papist, are a nu- merous and rich body, capable of greatly assisting us aafnends, or annoying us a., enemies. At another t.rae popery is to be discountenanced bv w.:, OVlaW.S. l»v nv£>c. „«,1 l-„ i« , V laws, by axes, and by fagots writings. At one time Chris- ^"^al Ug UOBKRT SHIELDS. ■> tianity is to be propagated by missionaries wher- ever we make adiscover^^ ; at another, we are to visit and revisit the Isles of the Southern Ocean, and not a wish to be expressed by the rulers, civil or ecclesi- astical, for the conversion of the poor Otaheitans and Utieteans. Now who is it who makes the times what they are ? Even those whose excessive caution and cowardly policy leave a doubt on the minds of the many, whether that zeal is not totally deficient which is the genuine result of sincerity. I have no doubt but the civil departments of state would flourish more, if that conduct were followed, in their support, which shines openly in the eyes of mankind as the result of truth and honesty, than when those petty tricks and that temporizing man- agement are pursued, which lead the governed to despise the persons, and to disobey the authority of the governor. Let legal authority openly dictate what is right when measured by the great standard of truth and justice, and then let legal power enforce the practice. The times would then be conformed to the rulers, not the rulers, by a strange perversion, to the obliquity of the times. CHAPTER XVI. ON THE I.Vn,UENCE OF POMTICs AS A SUBJECT OF CONVERSATION. TT is a mark of tho social an,l puUie spirit of a , "*''"" ^ '•" » g'-eat majority of it, citizens Uevo ,„g a very considerable portion of their time atul thoughts in studying its political welfare, its interests and its honour. iHghest to the West oi-ders of the people, hi., some weak pomta, yet I cannot help considering it both a p.oof of uneommon libemlity. and one of the firmest supports of c,v,l liberty. It kindle, and keeps alive aa ardent love of freedom. It ha, hithert« preserved that glonous gift of God from the rude hand of tj-ianny, and tends, perhaps, more than any other cause, to con,mu„icate the noble lire of true patriot- vigilantly over every political measure, and com „- nicate an alarm through the country with a sneed almost pnnni f^ +K„ „!,_ 1 ,. , ; ' I equal to the shock of electricity, ther e will mam lis lloHKirr SIKKLDS, l»o lu) duii^ti that ti ^ovomiiifiit slioiild i^taMi.sli • Icspotisni, cvoii tlK)H<;li it wcw to invailo the rii^lits of tlw jx'oplc ])y force of jinns. Thcvo would bo luany a Lcoiiidas to stand at the "j^atcs of Tlior- inopyla\ Hut as /oal, without ku(»wh'd<,ff, is suhversive of tlic purpose vvliich it means to piouiotc, it becomes a true friend of the country to endeawiur to unite with tlie lovo of liberty, the love of knowledjije. It unfortunately happens that political subjects are of so waiiu and animating a nature that they not only appear to interest in a very high degree, but engross the attention. The newsi)apers, corrupt as they now are, with many noble (exceptions it is true, form the whole libraiy of the politician ; the coffee-house is his school ; and he prefers an acrimonious pamphlet for or against the Ministry, to all that was ever writ- ten by a Homer, or discovered by a Newton. To be a competent judge, either of political meas- ures or events, it is necessary to possess an enlight- ened understanding and the liberal spirit of philo- sophy ; it is necessary to have read history, and to have formed right ideas of the nature of men and of civil society. But T know not how it happens, the most ignorant and passionate are apt to be the most decisive in delivering their sentiments on the very complicated subjects of political controversy. A man, who.se education never c.vtended beyonfi writing and TIIK INKLKKNC'K (IF l.„|,ITI(S. HJ) th. f..„r n,l.,s, will ,l.tc.,„.i,u. at o„ce, «,ul „ iti, ,1,.. most aua,o„t„tive air, ^ucl, ,,ue.sti„,.» a» ,voul,l pe,- plc- the w,*.,t ,tatc„„„„. a,l,„.„«l with all hu, ,a„ lean,,,,,, „„,, ,„„,, ,^ ,,„ ^^_,^_.^__^^ _^_^_^ ■ "''•"'"•'' ™'"^'"': :-'--ns in the nation; cv™ that t,ti„, „r tho.„ wi,„ ha... fortunes ami have re- ee,ved he e„,„„,„n :, ,, ,,„„ „, «,„ ^,^ ^ _ on, aUo to judge w... propriety in polities the, H they are usually inelined to dictate with pas ion. t Uen,ent, of Latin and French, and the arts of danc- ng, fencing and Hddling, a „.an should be „ualiHed I do no say. to sit ,. a n.ember of Parliament, but' o expat,„W w,th sufficient judgu.ent and inlelli- «.nee, on the propriety and nature of important m^sures concerted by profound wisdom » But oven among pe,«ns whose minds are suffi- on^y .mproved to distinguish ™d p,n.,.e the good sfo oroTn T"'f' '"''^P™"™"^ -ther „f pae- s on o. of pnvatc advantage, the rage for polities oHen pr^ecds too far and absorbs all'other olj ^ In va m does the hand of art present the picture o^^ repeat the melod, of music; for the eye is blind th ear .s deaf Wall but the news and Ihe newspaper Poetry, philology, elegant and polite lette,., in all their ramihcations, displav thpir Mlu-i— ct - »,«;« *., I,- . . ■ •■lulling charms in vam to him whose head and heart still vibmte with ),;.■ t . ! it ' t Pi ISSSfflCSHSHHP* •i^UM ' 150 ROBERT SHIELDS. iiiiii; the liarsh and discordant sounds of a political dispute. Those books whose tendency is only to promote ele- gant pleasures or advance science, which flatter no party, and gratify no malignant passion, are suffered to fall into oblivion ; while a pamphlet which ex- poses the cause of any political men or measures, however inconsiderable its literary merits, is extolled as one of the first productions of modern literature. But meagre is the food furnished to the mind of man by the declamation of a party bigot. From a taste for trash and a disrelish of the wholesome food of the mind, and from the consequent neglect of solid learning, mere politicians are prevented from receiving valuable improvement; and the community, together with literature, is at last deeply injured. For when learning is little respected, it will natur- ally decline; and that the usual darkness conse- quent on its decline leads to the establishment of despotism, every one who has surveyed the pictures of mankind, as portrayed by the pencil of history, will immediately acknowledge. What did Athens and ancient Rome retain of their ancient dignity when their learning and their arts were no more ? That the lighl of learning should ever again be extinguished may appear a visionary idea to a Can- adian, an Englishman or an American ; but so it did to a Roman in the days of Cicero. Notwithstand- ing the multiplication of books by the art of print- THE INFLUENCE OF ImillCS. 151 ing, both they, and all vah.e for them, may vani.h together w.th the power of understanding them, if the fury of polities should occasion a contempt for letters and for education and convert the leadei^ of vrndab "'' "" '""'''''' "'""''''™' '"t" "^oths "nd He who would add an elegance to politics, and d.stmgu,sh his conversation on thesuh^,ct from the ' vociferation of porters in an ale-house, .,hould in- «peet the finished pieces of antiquity, and learn to V.CW pubhc acts and counsels in the light in which they appeared to philosophers, to those whom the world has long considered the best teache,^ „f p„iit. .cal wisdom^ Let him study such authors as Thucy- What can better employ our sagacity than to .fevise modes, with the liberality of a philosophical patiil "m, for Its improvement and preservation ? 152 nOHERT SHIELDS. Not only the understanding, the taste, the temper of a people, but the spirit also, will be greatly iui- l)roved by learning politics of the Greeks and Ro- mans. No man of feeling ever yet read Livy with- out learning to detest meanness and slavery, and to glow with a love of liberty and emulation of public virtue. The Greek and Roman spirit cannot be too much encouraged by those who have a just idea of the dignity of their own nationality and a desire to maintain it. And let it be remembered that the Athenians, in their most glorious periods, were as much attached to politics and news as politicians of the present day are ; but that they preserved, amidst the wannest contests, a refined taste and delicate passion for the politest learning and the profoundest philosophy. I ft U 1^ I CHAPTP]R XVII. ON THE PECULIAR DANGER OF FALLING INTO INDO- LENCE IN A LITERARY AND RETIRED LIFE. r IS certain that as our ancestors were inducpd to found colleges by religious motives, so they chiefly mtended them to answer the purposes of religion. Those pious benefactors to mankind did not mean to establish seminaries, to prepare men for the world but to teach them to despise it. But more enlight-' ened periods than those in which these worthies lived have discovered that man best obeys his Maker when he takes an active part in the duties of society. Along residence in a collen;e is, ;)erhaps, scarcely lens unfavourable to devotion than to social activity. For devotion depends chiefly on lively aff-ections, exer- cised and agitated by the vicissitudes of hope and tear in the various transactions and events of human intercourse. He who is aInK«t placed beyond the reach of for- tune in the shelter of a doi.,ter, nmy, imleod, be led K I my) 'i.i 154 KOBERT SHIELDS. ;i ■ 11 1 by the statutes of the institutions to attend l.is chapei e.A doze over his cushion, but he will not feel, in any peculiar manner, the impulse of devo- tional fervour. Th. man who is engaged in the busy and honourable duties of active life flies from the world to the altar for comfort and refreshment ; but the cloistered recluse panis, while he is kneeling, in all the formalities of religion, for the pleasures and enjoyments of that world from which he is s> -aded. During several centuries, a great part of mankind was confined in monasteries, solely for the advancement of religion and learning ; yet never was the earth more be- nighted, than in those periods, by bigotry and igno- rance. Nor will any one assert that, in subsequent times, the improvements in knowledge and religion have been, in any degree, proportioned to the num- bers of those who have been separated from the world to facilitate their cultivation. The truth seems to be, that when the common incentives to industry ai^ removed, and all the natural wants supplied without the necessity of exertion, man degenerates as the pure waters of the river stagnate and become putrid in the pool. At last the boasting possessor of reason contents himself with dreaming " the blank of life along," with no other proof of existence than the wants of animal nature. Take away love, an.- hition, an.l all the changes and chances of this mortal THE DANGEU OF FALLING INTO INDOLENCE. 155 life, and man will be contented to eat/drink, sleep and die. ' ^ ' Not in colleges alone, though they may be consid- ered as the temples of indolence, but in common life also, the human mind becomes torpid as the neces- sity of exertion is diminished. He who, confiding M the possession of a fortune for his happiness^ avmds the avocations of a profession, and what he calls the fatiguing parts of study, will soon lose those powers of intellectual activity which he has no re- solution to employ. He may gradually degenerate to a level with the irrational creation. He already in some respects, approaches to the vegetable. And ' indeed when the habits are irretrievably confirmed! It might, perhaps, be happy if his nature would per- mit him to become, at last, impassive and quiescent- but as spontaneous fermentation takes place in masses of putrefaction, so, in the mind which has ceased to be exercised by its own efforts, there will arise emotions and habits both offensive and danger- ous. Pride and envy, conceit and obstinax^y, selii.h- ness and sensuality, are among the ugly daughters ot indolence in the monastic retreat. It may appear paradoxical, but it is certainly an opinion authorized by experience, that an active life IS the most friendly to contemplation. T' . fire of the mind, like culinary fire, has burned with a clear and constant flame, when open and ventilated by n 4 I Urn 15C llOBEUT SHIELDS. perpefcujil muti(»n, as it has been smctheix-d and ex- tmguished in smoke, when suffer. .1 to ixaualn Ion- without disturbance. The best, and mary of the most voluminous ^^Titers act( ;! still moie than they wrote. What conld be more unlike the life of the cloister than the lives of Xenaph.-n, Julius Cmsar, Erasmus, anvl a thousand others, whose days were .-J ciKraged in negotiation, in senates/in batti-^;, in trn.velli«2r, iliat it is not easy to conceive how they coiiia ^M time even to pen so gieat a quantity as they 3( ri ainly composed. Bui; such are the effects of assiduity, nnd of an un- interrupted accumulation of efforts thai he who has been excited to restless activity by the spurs of hon- our, interest and generosity of nature, has frequently accomplished more by himself than a thousand of his fellow-creatures employed in the same spliere, and unfurnished by nature with equal abilities for im- provement. A hackney writer of catch -penny compi- lations, the editor of a newspaper, the maker of a magazine, will perform in a few months a portion of literary labour which shall infinitely exceed that of whole colleges, inhabited by those who slumber in literary retirement. But it avails little to point out the disorders of literary indolence, without endeavouring to suggest a remedy. It appears, then, to me, that th .sm whom providence has blessed with leisure, and :ppor- THE DAXfJER OF FALLINfJ INTO TNDOLKXCE. 157 tunity of spending it in the pursuit of learning, and the liberal pleasures of retirement, too often Ian. guishm their pursuits from neglecting to render them the subjects of debate and conversation. It is the warmth of discussion, in free and social ,neet- ings which invigorates solitary study, and sends the Hcholar back to his books with fresh energy The hope of making a figure in a subsequent conversation, the fear of a shameful exposure, and of appearing inferior to those who are, in a natural and civil view, our equals, will stimulate all our powers, and engage all our attention, while we sit in those very ibranes where we once nodded and slumbered over the pages of a Homer or a Cicero. Meetings should be established in all literary societies for the com- munication of remarks and the rehearsal of compo- sitK,ns. But the strictest rules should be prescribed and observed for the preservation of decorum, other- wise ridicule would gradually be introduced, and the feast of reason be converted either to a banquet of jollity or a tumult of noise and nonsense. It is right, also, that contemplative men, however far removed from the necessity of employment by the favours of fortune, should communicate with mankind, not only in pleasures and amusements, but m real duties and active virtues, cither conjugal, pa- ternal, professional, or charitable. Something should be engaged in, with such obligations to performance '!H : 158 KOHEllT SHIELDS. tluit ail inclination to neglect should be over-ruled by legal compulsion, or the fear of certain loss and shame. The best method of avoiding the wretched state of not knowing what to do, is to involve one- self in such circumstances as shall force one to do something— something honourable and useful. The natural indolence of the human heart is found to es- cape every restraint but the iron arm of necessity. 8uch is our present condition, that we must be often chained down to our real happiness and our best enjoyment. CHAPTER XVIII. ON THE BEAUTY AND HAPPINESS OF AN OPEN HE- HAVIOUR AND AN INGENUOUS DISPOSITION. "A/TANY persons, if they cannot fui-nisli theni- -Lyj_ selves with the courage and generosity of the Iion,think themselves equally happy and much wiser with the pitiful cunning of the fox. Every word they speak, however trivial the subject, is weighed before it is uttered. A disgustful silence is observed till somebody of authority has advanced an opinion and then, with a civil leer, a doubtful and hesitating assent is given, such as may not preclude the oppoi- tunity of a subsequent retractation. If the conversa- tion turn only on the common topics of the weather, the news, the play, the opera, they are no less re- served than if their lives and fortunes depended on the opinion they at last venture, with oracular dig- nity, to utter. Whatever may be their real idea o^n the subject, as truth is a trifle compared to the object of pleasing those with whom they convei-se, they generally contrive gently to agreu with you, unless r' 160 IIORERT SHIELDS. itsho..] apjv-., ,o them, on nmture consi.leration. that thnr opinion (if ceitain contingencies, to the number of at least ten thousand, .should take pkce) may, at the distance of luilf a century, involve them in some small danger o^ :^nu,^ „ Htti, offence, or of incurrmg a small euibarras.sment. They wear a con- «tant smile on their countenances, and are all good- ness and benevolence, if you will believe their pro- fessions. But beware. A man of this character nic/er est, as Horace says, and thou who justly claim- cst the title of an honest man, be upon thy .ruard when thine ill fortune introduces thee into his com- pan> . " Hunc tu, Rovw np, caveto." These crafty animr Is are even more reserved, rau- tious, timid, and serpentine in action than in con- versation. They lay the deepest schemes, and no conclave of cardinals, no combination of conspirators no confederacy of thieves, ever deliberated with more' impenetrable secrecv. Connections are sought with the most painful solicitud. No arts or assiduities are neglecf-.d to obtain -o favour of the great " Their hearts pant with the utmost anxiety to be in- troduced to a f-imily of distinction and opulence not only because the connection gratifies their pride buf also because, in the wonderfrl complications and vicissitudes of human r.%irs, it may one day pro- mote their interest. . „.. Mmt day arrives, their perpetual uneasiness I oft ,,ut a period to their HAPPINESS OF OPEN HKHAVIOUR. 161 amWtion, hy tenninating their existence. But even 11 they gain their ends, after a youth and a manhood consumed in constant care and servitu.le, yet the pleasure is not adecjuate to the pain, nor the advan- tage k> the labour. Every one is ready to complain ot the .shortness of life; to spend, therefore, the greater part of it in perpetual fear, caution, suspense and solicitude, merely to acco.nplish an object of worldly ambition or .ivarice-what is it but the proverbial folly of him who loses a pouml to save a penny ? Give me, ye powers : an ingenuous man would exclann, give me health and liberty, with a competence, and I will compassionate the man of tinnd and servile soul, who has at last crept on hands and knees, through thick and thin, and seated his trembling limbs, after they have been palsied with care, on some painful eminence. ndeed,the perpetual agitation of spirits, the toi- mc. ing fears, and the ardent hopes, which alter- nately disorder the bosom of the subtle and suspi- cious worldling, more than counterbalance all the riches and titular honours which successful nmrJng can obtain. What avail fortunes, mansion-hous. . parks and equipages, when the poorpui-suer of Lima has worn out Ms sensibility, ruined Ids nerves, lost his eyes, and perhaps stained his honour and wounded his conscience, in toilsome drudge.y and abject .servitude, from his youth up even to the age 102 KOHKKT SHIKKus. (»r 'f feebleness and. Increpitmle f When a man has a nu- iner,)us ()ffsprin^^ it n.ay, indeed, be ^r,„erous to .saeri- hce his ovn case and liappin, ,ss to their a.lvance- ment. He may fe^d a virtuous plea>^uiv in his con- duct, which may soothe him under every moment of disagreeabh^ toil or painful submission. But it is obvjous to observe that the most artful of men, and the ^.reatest slaves to interest ane trifiing, and his discoveries unimportant, yet they are harmless to others, and useful to himself as pre- servations of his innocence. Let him not be ridiculed or condemned, even though he should spend his time in collecting and describing moths, mosses, shells birds, weeds, or coins; for he who loves these things seldom sets his affections on pelf, or any of tho..e ob- .lects which corrupt and divide human society. He who finds his pleasure in a museum or a library will not be often seen in the tavern, in th« hrothel, or at IVmiXHY PURSUITS USUAJ.LV INNOCENT. Wj the gaming table. He ispWd if he possesses a non- ^^^/ossil and envies not the Itched enjoy- ments of the,nton.perate,nor the ill-gotten wealth of the oppressor or extortioner. But his pursuits have usually a title to much g.-eater praise than that of being moften.sive. Suppose him in any of the m>era professions. If a clergyman, for insLce, he devotes h,« tnue and abilities to the preparation of chssuasives from vice, from folly, from misconduct, from ,„fidehty-from all that contributes to aggra^ vate the wretchedness of wretched human nature Here the pleasures naturally resulting from literary occupation are improved by the sublime sensations ot active benevolence, the comfortable consciousness of advancing the truest happiness of those amont 'H'Xi r'HAPTER XX. ON ™. K,„,M- or «a™„.«,.,„ ,^„,,„„ ,^,^, ,,,^^,^,^ rpHERE ,,e eortain ho,n„Iy U,i sweet eo.nforts , ""'• '^""venienee.s the absence of wl.iel, „ elegance can supply But ,. *l ""«'i„g of extern! ., , , ? »""-''•"<-« liave -critic;] to til •«' " °"'' ""■>■ "'■'■ «'""««'"™ to 1 own > ' ?" """'■' "' "*«"■ ™" '00 little anxious to appear, than to k tarn' a' '"'V ">e present ™odes of living n ,1^,, ^'''""T anostenta.ousappeara„ee;,„st,:^^^^^^^^^^^^ Jn call instances, suDnorfPfl tp , «iitterin- anH c- ^ ' '^"- ^^ ^^'« ^an preserve a ^ ctermg and glossy ^'arnisJl. we rlisreoar.l f).n • tenor .nateriais a„„ soli,, substauco fa ! shoVt that of the Frenoh.nnn, who luul rather go without a h,rt than without ruffles; rather st« Jas a Count han en,oy atfluence anj independence a. an ,S™ me.ehantor,nan„fae,urer.Me„i,,o,i.„t,,e™.a, : .() 172 ItOBEltT SlliKLDS. l;iO the distinctions of fashionable life, with an idolatry so reverential and complete, that they seem to mis- take it for their duty towards God. For, to use the words of the C'atechism, do they not appear " to )>e- lieve in them, to fear them, to love tliem with all theii- hearts, with all their minds, with all their souls, and with all their strength ; to worship them, to give them thanks, to put their whole trust in them, to call upon them, to honour their names and their words, and to serve them truly all the days of their lives " ? As they worship false gods, their blessings are of the kind which corresponds with the nature of their duties. They are shadowy and unsubstantial dreams, bubbles, and meteors, which dance before their eyes, and often lead them to perdition. It is really lamentable to behold families of a competent fortune, and respectable rank, who (while they deny themselves even the common pleasures of a plentiful table ; while their kitchen is the cave of cold and famine ; while their neighbours, relations and friends pity and despise as they pass the com- fortless and inhospitable door) scruple not to be pro- fusely expensive in dress, furniture, building, equi- page, at public entertairmients, in excursions to watering places. To feed this fashionable extravagance, they rob .SACRIi !.IN(; COMFOHT TO TASTK. I7.S themselves of indulgences, which hey know to be more truly satisfacttory ; for who nmo. hem returns from the midnight assembly, or from the summer excursion, without complaining of dulness, fatigue, ennui, and insipidity^ They have shown themselves,' they have seen many tine persons and many fine things ; hut have they felt the delicious pleasures of 4 ^ \ ^\ ^•^ ^f^.-^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 873-4503 y : CHAPTER XXI ON THE SUPKRIOR VAU'E OF SOMO ACCOMFLISH- MKNTS. ClOERO.- Mistake inc not; I know how to vahu; tlie swoot courtesies of life . Attability, attention aiul ilecoium of beliavioui-, if tliey have not been ranked by philosophers aniony the virtnes, are certainly lelated to them, and have a powerful inHuence in promoting social happiness. T have recommended them, as well as yourself. But I con- tend, and no sophistry shall prevail upon me to give up this point, that, to be truly amiable, they must proceed from goodness of heart. Assumed by the artful to serve the purposes of piivate interest, they degenerate to contemptible grimace, and detestable hypocrisy. Chesterfietd.— Excuse me, my dear Cicero; 1 cannot enter farther into the controversy at present. I have a hundred engagements at least ; and see yonder my little elegant French (Jomtesse. I promised her anrl OMFLISH- IS joining SUPEliloH VALUE <»K SOLID ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 177 myself the pleasure of a promenade. Pleasant walk- ing enough in these Elysian groves. So much good company too, that if it Avere not that the camulU- are apt to be troublesome, I should not much regret the distance from the Tuilleries~But adieu : mon cher ami, for 1 see Madame * * "• the party. Adieu, adieu : Cic. — Contemptiblt' fop : Chest. Ah : What do I bear >. Rucollect that 1 am a man of honoui-. unused to the pity or the in- sults of an upstart, a novas homo. But perhaps your exclamation was not meant of me ; if so, why Ctc.—l am as little inclined to insult, as to flatter you. Youi- levity excited my indignation ; but my con)passion for tlie . , . the con- scious merit of the largest or smallest buckles in the |oom according to the temporary ton, would have aughed Pompey the Great out of countenance. Oh Cicero, had you lived in a modern European court' you would have caught a degree of that undescrib- "ble grace, which is not only the ornament, but may l>e the substitute of all those laboured attainments which fools call solid merit. But it was not your good fortune, and I make allowances. CVtf.— The vivacity you have acquired in studying the writings and the manners of the degenerate SUPKRIOR VALUE OF SOLID ACfoMPLlSilMENTS. 170 ( Jaiils, has led you to set too hioh a value on qualifi- cations which dazzle cho lively perceptions with a momentary blaze, and to depreciate that kind of worth which can neither he ol,taineroceeded to solicit him, l»owo;al hint is liis answer— " Behold my mas- ter wotteth not what is with me in the liouse, and hath committed all that he hath to my hand ; theie is none greater in the house thaa I, neither hath lie kept back anything fiom m<' but thee, because thou art his wife." T\u; same argument, which a base mind would have made to itself for conmiitting the evil, was to this biave man the greatest motive fin- forbearing it, that he could do it with impunity. The malice and falsehood of tlie disappointed woman naturally arose on that occasion, and there is but a short step from the practice of virtue to the hatred of it. It would, therefore, be worthy of serious con- sideration in both sexes— and the mattei- is of impor- tance enough to them— to a«k themselves whether they would change lightness of heart, indolence of JJiind, clieeiful meals, untroubled slumbers, and gen- « HASTITY A VALrAHLK VIRTI'E IN A MAX. J.S7 tie .li.positicn, for r oonstnnt piniiency wl.idi sl.uts '"It all tlnn;.,sthata.v ^Mvatoi- in.liffVnmt, clouds tlu- "nn-ination with insensif.ility an.l imjudicu to all luannor of .idi-hts, l,„t that which is co.n.non to all cieatuivs that I'xtend thfir species. A loose behaviour and inattention to evervthiny that is .serious, Houing from some .legree of this petulancy, is ohservablo in the »,'eneraiity of the youth of both sexes in this age. It is th(^ .',no <-om. mon facte of most public ineetings, anco.l tl.eii,, that thoy have .sacriliced uver.>- thing to it, and have seemed wedded to " seven's the? inain," and "the odd trick." There is not a more melancholy ohject than a -entleman of sense thus infatuated. He makes himself and family a prey to a gang of villains more inf\imous than highway- men ; and perhaps, when " ruin is completed, he i.sglad to join with the very scoundrels that de- stroyed him, and live upon the spoil of others, whom he can drag into the same follies that proved so fatal to himself. Here we may take a survey of the character of a sharper; and that he may have no room to com- plani of foul play, let us begin with his excellencies. \ouwill perhaps be startled, Mr. Town, when I mention the excellencies of a sharper; but a Game- ster who makes a decent figure in the workfrnust be endued with many amiable -lualities, which would undoubtedly appear with great lustre were they not eclipsed by the odious character affixed to his trade. In order to carry on the common business of his pro- fession he must be a man of quick and lively parts, attended with a stoical cahnness of temper, and a constant presence of mind. He must smile at the loss of thousands ; and is not to ])e discomposed though ruin stares him in the face. As he is to live among the great, he nmst not want polit..ness and 190 UoJJEllT SHtKLliS. affability; hu mu.st be submissive, but not servile ; lie must be master of an ingenuous, liberal air, and have a seeming openness of fc-ehaviour. These must be the chief accomplishments of our hero ; but lest I should be accused of giving too favourable a likeness of him, now we have seen his outside, let us take a view of his heart. There we shall find avarice the mainspring that moves the whole machine. Every gamester is eaten up with avarice ; and when this passion is in full force, it is more strongly predominant than any other. It con- qnei-s even lust ; and conquers it more effectually than age. At sixty we look at a fine woman with pleasure ; but when cards and dice have engrossed our attention, women and all their charms arc slighted at five-and-twenty. A thorough gamester renounces Venus and Cupid for Plutus and Ames-ace, and owns no mistress of his heart except the queen of trumps. His insatiable avarice can only be grati • fied by hypocrisy : so that all those specious virtues already mentioned, and which, if real, might be turned to the benefit of mankind, must be directed in a gamester towards the destruction of his fellow- creatures. His quick and iively parts serve only t(» instruct and assist him in the most dexterous method of packing the cards and cogging the dice ; his forti- tude, which enables him to lose thousands without O.V (iAMJU.INrt. IIH arms are amotion, hiusfc often he practised against th(. stings and reproaches of his conscience, and his liberal de- portment and affected openness is a specious veil to recommend and conceal the blackest villany. It is now necessary to take a second survey of his heart ; and as we have seen its vices, let us consider its miseries. The covetous man, who has not suffi- cient courage or inclination to increase his fortune hy bets, cards or dice, but is contented to hoard tip thousands by thefts less public, oi- by cheats less liable to uncerfcaint3-, ^ives in a state of perpetual suspicion and terror ; but the avaricious fears of the gamester are infinitely greater. He is constantly to wear a mask ; and, like Monsieur St. Croix, co-adJ!i- tor to that empoisonneuse Madame Brinvilliers, if his mask fall off, he runs the hazard of being suffocated by the stench of his own poisons. I have seen some examples of this sort, not many years ago, at White's. I am uncertain whether the wretches are still alive ; but if they aie still alive, they breathe like toads, under ground, crawling amidst old walls, and paths long since unfreciuented. But supposing that the sharper's hypocrisy remains undetected, in what state of mind must that man be, whose fortune depends on the insincoi-ity of his heart, the disingenuosity of his behaviour, and the false ])ias of his dice ? What sensations must be f: ltd l':r ?1 r 192 ItOBERT SHlKLDS. I ? suppress, when he is obliged to smile, although ho • is provoked ; when he must look serene in the height of despair ; and when he must act the Stoic without the consolation of one virtuous sentiment, or one moral principle ? How unhappy must he be, even in that situation from which he hopes to reap most benefit : I mean amidst stars, garters, and the various herds of nobility .' Their lordships are not always in a humour to play; they choose to laugh, they choose to joke ; in the meantime our hero must • patiently await the good hour, and nmst not only join in the laugh, and applaud the joke, but nmst humour every turn and caprice to which tl)at set of spoiled children, called bucks of quality, are liable. Surely his brother Thicket's employment, of saunter- ing on horseback in the wind and rain till the Read- ing coach passes through Smallberry-green, is the more eligible, and no less honest occupation. The sharper has also frequently the mortification of being thwarted in his designs. Opportunities of fraud will not for ever present themselves. The false dice can- not l)e constantly produced, nor the packed cards always be placed upon the table. It is then our gamester is in the greatest danger. But even then, when he is in the power of fortune, and has' nothing but mere luck and fair play on his side, he must stand the brunt, and perhaps give away 'his ON GAMnUNC;. VXi last guineu, us ccolly as he would lend ii iioMoi.mu SI shillinsr. Our hero is now going off the stage, and his cat- astrophe is veiy tragical. The next news we hear of him is his death, achieved hy his own hand, and with his own pistol. An imjuest is bribed, he is l>uried at midnight— and forgotten before sunrise. These two poitraits of a sharper, wherein i liave endeavoured to show different likenesses in the same man, put me in mind of an old print, which I remember at Oxford, of Count Guiscard. At first sight he was exhibited in a full-bottomed wig, a hat and feather, eml)roidercd clothes, diamond buttons, and the full court dress of those days ; but by pull- ing a string, the folds of the paper were shifted, the face only remained, a new body came forward, and Count Guiscard appeared to be a devil. II ^fq i! ',91 OHAl^rER XXV. rOKVERSATlON. npHERE is no part, perhaps, of social life wlilcli -L affords more real satisfaction than those hours which one passes in rational and unreserved con- versation. That convei-sation, however, may answer the ends for which it was designed, the parties rt-ho are to join in it must come together with a deter- mined resolution to please, and to be pleased. In the conduct of it, be not eager to interrupt others, or un- easy at being yourself interrupted ; since vou speak- either to amuse or instruct the company, or to receive those benefits from it. Give all, therefore leave to speak in turn. Hear with patience, and answer with precision. Inattention is ill manners ; it shows contempt; an^i contempt is never forgiven.' Trouble not the company with your own private concerns, as you do not love to be troubled with those of others. Youi-s are as little to them as theirs are to you. You will need no oth.T rule tONVKHSAtiON', 10', wliercUy to .jiipt It by an illtimed jest. The stream is .scattered, and caniiot again be collected. Discourse not in a whimper, or half-voice, to your next neighbom-. It IS Ill-breeding, a.ioition to thoir knowl(Ml<,'e or their virtue. Many find tlieir way to the tables and parties of those who never considei- them as of the least importance in any other place. We have all, at one time or other, been content to love tho.so whom we could not e.steem. and been persuad d to try the dan«(erous experinumt of admittin«,r ),im for a companion whom W(( know to be too i<;norant for a couaselloi-, and too treacherous for a fiiend. He that would plea,s(! must rarely aim at such ex- cellence as depresses his hearers in their own opinion, or debai-s them from the hope of contribut- ing reciprocally to the enteitainment of the com- pany. Merriment extorted by sallies of imagina- tion, sprightliness of remark, or tjuickness of reply, is too often what the Latins call the Sardinian laughter, a distortion of face without gladness of the heart. For this reason no style of conversation is more extensively acceptable than the narrative. He who has stored his memory with slight anecdotes, private incidents, and personal peculiarities, seldom fails to iind his audience favourable. Almost every man listens with eagerness to extemporary histoiy ; for almost every man has some real or imaginary eon- HOH' T(» J'LKASK I\ fJONVKIlSAl'IOX. 109 inictiuii with (1 (;c',l(»l.iat«!(l charactHr, seme ilem-v. to advance or oppose a lisin*,' name. Vanity often co-operates with ouiiosity. Hz that is a heanu- in one place, qualiHes himself to become a speaker in another; for though lie cannot comprehen.l a series of argnments, or transport the volatile si)irit of wit without evaporation, yet he thinks himself able to treasure uj) the various incidents of a story, and please his liopes with the information which he shall ;^ive to some inferior society. Narratives are for the most part heard without ^nvy, because they are not stipposed to imply any intellectual (jualities above the connnon rate. To be acquainted with facts not yet echoed by plebeian mouths, may happen to one man as well as to another, and to relate them when they are known, has in appearance so very little difhculty, that every one concludes himself equal to the task. « jrit i I 11 1 ■ 'a' i ■ 1 f It 1; ^ t -' ' h < i ft- t ^ i n J ; ^ Mi t ' ! CHAPTER XXVII. UOOl) MANNERS. G_OOD maimers, according to Swift, is the art of making those |)0<)plecasy with whom we con- verse. Whoever mak< . the fewest persons uneasy, is the best bred iji the company. As the best law is foun- me of these defects no man will behave' li;^.a^usf ill for -vant of experience; or of what, in AfANNKHS. 201 ^l..• an^M,a.n. of fool., is rn]\od kno^uu|r the world ' ; ofy (prococls our author) any on., to assi^m an n.eulcnt whorein reason will not djroc-t us what we aro to say or do in oo„,,.any, if wo ar,. not n.isled by I"">'' •>'• ill-natn.v. Thorofor., I insist that goorl senses th. principal ionn.lation of ^^ood manners • but bocaus,, tho fonn.r is a -ift which vory few among mankind are possessed of, therefore all the I'lvil.jced nations of the world have agreed upon ftx- ing some rules for common behaviour, Ixvst suited to their general customs, or fancies, as a kind of artifi- cial good se.ise to supply the defects of reason, with- out which, the gentlen.anljy part of .Unices would be perpetually at cutfs, as they seld..m fail when they happen to be drunk, or engaged in squabbles about women or i,lay. A nd, God be thanked, there hardly happeneth a duel in a year which may not be impu- ted to one of these three motives; upon which account I .should h. exceedingly sorry to find the Legislature make any new laws against the practice of duellincr • because the methot. are easy and many, for a wile' man to avoid a .piarrel with honour, or engage in it with innocence. And I can discover no political evil m suffering bullies, shai-pers, and rakes, to rid the world of each other by a method of their own where the law hath not been able to find an expedi- ent. As the common forms of good manners were . N I i fiifl i ^1 m ■ f 202 ROBERT SHIELDS. intended for regulating the conduct of those who have weak understandings, so they have been cor- rupted by the persons for whose use they were con- trived. For these people have fallen into a needless and endless way of multiplying cer monies which have been extremely troublesome to those who prac- tise them, and insupportable to everybody else ; in- somuch that wise men are often more uneasv at the over-civility of these refiners, than they could pos- sibly be in the conversations of peasants or mechan- ics. The impertinences of this ceremonial beha- viour are nowhere better seen than at those tables where ladies preside, who value themselves on ac- count of their good breeding; where a man must reckon upon passing an hour without doing any one thing he hath a mind to, unless he will be so hardy as to break through all the settled decorum of the family. She determines what he loveth best and how much he shall eat ; and if the master of the house happeneth to be of the same disposition, he prnceedeth in the same tyrannical manner to pre- scribe in the drinking part ; at the same time you are under the necessity of answering a thousand apologies for j^our entertainment. And although a good deal of this humour is pretty well worn off among many people of the best fashion, yet too much of it still remaineth, especially in the country ; where GOOD MANN Kits. •203 ail honest ijentle niian assured me that, having been kept four days against his wil! at a friend's house, with all the circumstance of liiding his boots, lock- ing up the stable, and other contrivances of the like nature, he could not remember, from the moment he came into the house to the moment he left it, any one thing wherein his inclination was not directly con- tradicted ; as if the whole family had entered into a combination to torment him. " But, besides all this, it would be endless to re- count the many foolish and ridiculous accidents I have observed among these unfortunate proselytes to ceremony. I have seen a duchess fairly knocked down by the precipitancy of an officious coxcomb running to save her the trouble of opening a door, I remember, up' i a birth-day at Court, a great lady was rendered utterly disconsolate by a dish of sauce let fall by a page directly upon her head-dress and brocade, while she gave a sudden turn to her elbow upon some point of ceremony with the person who sat next to her. Monsieur Buys, the Dutch envoy, whose politics and manners were much of a size, brought a son with him, about thirteen years old, to a great table at Court. The boy and his father, what- ever they put on their plates, they first offered round in order, to every person in the company ; so that we could not get a minute's quiet during the whole din- i\* F r I til li fpf III ij' it i i ! ! 1 1'i 204 ItOHFRT SHIELDS. ner. At last tln'ir {)lates happened to encounter, and with so much viohmce, that, being china, they broke in twenty pieces, and stained half the company with their sweet-meats and cream. " There is a pedantry in manners, as in all arts and sciences, and sometimes in trades. Pedantry is pro- perly the over-rating any kind of knowledge w^e pre- tend to. And if that kind of knowledge be a trifle in itself, the pedantry is the gi'eater. For which reason I look npon fiddlers, dancing-masters, heralds, masters of the ceremony, etc., to be greater pedants than Lipsius, or the elder Scaligei-. With these kind of pedants, the Court, while I knew it, was always plentifully stocked : 1 mean from the gentleman- usher (at least) inclusive, downward to the gentle- man porter, who aie, generally speaking, the most insignificant raca of people that this island can attbrd, and with the smallest tincture of good manners, which is the only trade they possess ; for, being wholly illiterate, conversing chiefly with each other, they reduce the whole .system of breeding within the forms and circles of their several offices ; and as they are below the notice of Ministers, they live and die in Court under all revolutions, with great obse- quiousness to those who are in any degree of credit or favour, and with rudeness and insolence to every- body else. From whence I have long concluded that GOOD MANNKRS, 205 good manners are not a plant of tlie Court growth ; for if they were, those people who have understand- ings directly of a level for such acquirements, and who have served such long apprenticeships to nothing else, would certainly have picked them up. For as to the gieat officers who attend the Prince's person or councils, or preside in his family, they are a tran- sient body, who have no better a title to good man- ners than their neighbours, nor will probably have reeoui-se to gentlemanly ushers for instruction. So that I know little to be learned at Court on this head, except in the material circumstance of dress; wherein the authority of the maids of honour must, indeed, be allowed to be almost equal to that of a favourite actress. " I remembei' a passage my Lord Bolingbroke told me : That going to receive Prince Eugene, of Savoy, at his landing, in order to conduct him im- mediately to the Queen, the Piince said he was much concerned that he could not see Her Majesty that night; for Monsieur Hoff'man (who was then by) had assured his Highness, that he could not be ad- mitted into her presence with a tied-up periwig ; that his equipage was not ari-ived ; and that he had tmdeavoured in vain to boirow a long one among all his valets and pages. My Lc^id turned the matter to fi jest, and )>!ouglit the Prince to Jim' M.'ijist^ ; S:! i ,1- . U ■• :iiv 206 ROBERT SHIELDS. \Mili i for whicli 1r. was highly censured by the whole tribe of gentlemen ushers ; among whom Monsieur Hoffinan, an old, dull resident of the Emperor's, had picked up this material point of ceremony; and which, I believe, was the best lesson he had learned in twenty-five years' residence. " I make a difference between ' good manners ' and 'good breeding,' although, in order to vary my im- pression, I am sometimes forced to confound them. By the first, I only understand the art of remember- ing, and applying, certain settled forms of general behaviour. But ' good breeding ' i,s of a much larger extent ; for, besides an uncommon degree of litera- ture, sufficient to (pialify a gentleman for reading a play, or a politit-al pamphlet, it taketh in a great compass of knowledge ; no less than that of dancing, ^gJiting, ganiing, making the circle of Italy, riding the great horse, and speaking French, not to mention some other secondary or subaltern accomplishments which are more easily acquired. So that the differ- ence between good breeding and good manners lieth in thi.s : That the former cannot be attained to by the best iniderstandings without study and labour ; whereas a tolerable degree of reason will instruct us in eveiy part of good manners without other as- sistance. •' I can tliink of nothing more useful upon this GOOD MANNERS. 20: subject, than to point out some particulars wherein the very essentials of good manners are concerned, the neglect or perverting of which doth very much disturb the good commerce of the world, by intro^ dueing a traffic of a mutual uneasiness in most com- panies. " First, a necessary part of good manners is a punc- tual observance of time at our own dwellings, or those of others, or at third places ; whether upon matteis of civility, business or diversion: which rule, though it be a plain dictate of common reason, yet the greatest minister T ever knew was the greatest trespasser against it; by which all his busi- ness doubled upon him, and placed him in a con- tinual aiTear. Upon which I often used to rally him, as deficient in point of good manners. I have known more than one ambassador and Secretary of State, with a very moderate portion of intellectuals, execute their office with great success and applause, by the mere force of exactness and regularity. If you duly observe time for the service of another, it doubles the obligation ; if upon your own account, it would be manifest folly, a^- v/ell as ingratitude, to neglect it ; if both are concerned, to make your equal or inferior attend on you to his own disadvan- tage, is pride and injustice. " Tgnoranee of forms cannot properly be rstyled J , Jd 208 KOBERT SHIELDS. ill-maniiei«, because fonns are subject to frequent changes ; and consequently, being not founded upon reason, are beneatli a wise man's regard. Besides, they vary in every country, and after a short period of time vary frequently in the same ; so that a man who travelleth, must needs be at first a stranger to them in every Court through which he passeth ;• and, perhaps, at his return, as much a stranger in his own ; and, after all, they are easier to be remem- bered or forgotten than faces or names. "Indeed, among the many impertinences that superficial young mvii bring with them from abroad, this bigotry of forms is one of the principal, and more predominant than the rest; who look upon them not (mly as if they were matters capable of admitting of choice, but as points of importance, and therefore are zealous upon ali occasions to in- troduce and propagate the new foims and fashions they have brought back with them ; so that, usually speaking, the worst-bred person in the company is a young traveller just ari-ived from abroad." CHAPTER XXVIII. POLITKNESS. TD^Jf^II'l^NESS means elej^ance of manners, or J- good breeding. Lord Chesterfield calls it the art of pleasing. It has also been called an artificial good nature ; and, indeed, good nature is the foun- dation of true politeness, without which, art will make but a very indifteront figure, and generally defeat its own ends. " Where compliance and assent, caution and can- dour," says an elegant essayist, " arise from a natu- ral tenderness of disposition and softness of nature, as they sometimes do, they are almost amiable, and certainly excusable ; but as the effects of artifice, they must be despised. The persons who possess them are, indeed, often themselves dupes of their own deceit, when they imagine others are deluded by it. For excessive art only betrays itself ; and many who do not openly take notice of the deceiver, from motives of delicacy and tendernesss for his !l() KOBEHT SHIELDS. charactei-, .secretly deride and warmly resent his ineffectual subtlety." "True politeness," .says another author, "is that continual attention which humanity inspires us with, both to please others and to avoid giving them offence. The surly plain-dealer exclaims loudly against this virtue, and prefei-s his own shockina bluntness and Gothic freedom. The courtier and tawnuig flatterer, on the contrary, substitute in its place insipid compliments, cringmgs,and a jargon of unmeaning sentences. The one blames politeness, because he takes it for a vice, and the other is the' occasion of thi.s, because that which he practises is really .so." Both these characters act from motives equally absurd, though not equally criminal. The conduct of the artful flatterer is guided by self-love, while that of the plain-dealer is the effect of ignorance ; for nothing is more certain than that the desire of pleasing is founded on the mutual wants and the mutual wishes of mankin.l-on the pleasure which we wish to derive from society, and the character which we wish to acquire. Men, having discovered that it was necessary and agreeable to unite for their common interests, have made laws to repress the wicked ; they have settled the duties of social life, and connected the idea of roLITENKSS. 211 respectability with tlie practice of those duties, and having prescribed the regulations necessary to their common safety, they have endeavoured to render their commerce with one another agreeable, by es- tablishing the rules of politeness and good breeding. Indeed, as an elegant author, already quoted, re- marks, the philosopher who, in the austerity of his virtue, should condenm the art of pleasing as un- worthy of cultivation, would deserve little attention from mankind, and might be dismissed to his solitary tub, like his brother Jiogenes. It is the dictate of humanity, that we should endeavour to render our- selves agreeable to those in whose company we an; destined to travel in the journey of life. It is our interest ; it is the source of perpetual satisfaction ; it is one of our most important duties as men. and particularly required in the professor of Christianity. It is needless to particularize the motives which have induced men to practise the agreeable virtues ; for, from whatever source the desire of pleasing pro- ceeds, it has always increased in proportion to the general civilization of mankind. In a rude state of society, pleasure is limited in its sources and in its operations. When the wants of mankind, and the means of attaining them, are few, personal ap- plication is necessary to gratify them, and it is gen- erally sufficient; by which means an individual b,- m till K '! - 212 KOBKirr SHIKLDS. ouiiies more indepondent than can possibly be the ease in civilized life, and, of course, less disposed to give or receive assistance. Confined to the solitary wisli of furnishing means for his own happiness, h(5 is little intent on the pleasures of conversation ai)d society. His desire of communication is equal to the extent of his knowledge. But as .soon as tho natural wants of life are filled up, we find unoceu- . pied time, and we labour hard to make it pass in an agreeable manner. It is then we perceive the ad- vantage of posse.ssing the rational ;>ature, and the delights of mutual intercourse. When we consider society in that state of i)ejfectii.n which enables a great part of the members of it to pursue at leisure the pleasures of conversation, we .should expect, both from the ease of accjuitting ourselves to the satisfac- tion of our associates, and from the advantages arising from this conduct, that the art of i)leasing might be reduced to a few plain and simple rules, and that these unght be derived from a slight atten- tion to general manners. The art of pleasing, in our intercourse with mankind, is indeed so simple that it requires nothing more than the constant desire to please, in all our words and actions; and the practice of it can neither wound a man's self-love, nor be jirejudicial to his interests in any j)0,ssible situation, I'Ol.ITr.NKSS. 2l:i Hut though this is certain, it in fh)ulith'ss less at- tended to than in reason it ought to be. Each par- ticular man is so jeaU)us to promote his own ends, or his own pleasure, as to forget thai Ids neighbour has claims e(|ual to his own ; that every man who enters into company gives up, for the; time, a great many of his peculiar rights ; and tlmt he then fovins part of an association, met togeth:>r, not for the par- ticular gratification of any one, but for the purpose of general satisfaction. The qualities essential in the art of pleasing, are virtue, knoii:h'{h/t', and maiinei's. All the virtues which form a good and respectable character, in a moral sense, are essential to the art of ])leasing. This must be an established principle, because it de- pends on the wants and mutual relations of society. In all affairs of common business, we delight in transacting with men in whom we can place confi- dence, and in whom we find integrity ; but truth is so naturally pleasing, and the common attairs of life are so interwoven with social intercourse, that we derive abundantly more satisfaction from an honest character than from specious manners. " Should you be suspected," says Chesterfield, " of injustice, malignity, perfidy, lying, &c., all the parts and know- ledge of the world will never procure you esteem, friendship, and respect." 'I '™?1 i 214 ROBERT SHIKLDS. i ; M ft The first of viitucH in our crnnirm' with the world, anrl the chief i„ .ivin;. ph-nsure to tho.e with whom we associate, i,s inviohthle .sincerity of heart. We can never be too punctual in the ni«,st scrupu- lous tenderness to our moral character in this respect nor too nicely affected in pnsserving our integrity.' Iho peculiar modes, even of the fashional.le world which are founded in dissimulation, and which on' this account, have itiduced several to recommend the practice, would not prevent a man of the highest integrity from being acceptable in the verv best company. Acknowledged sincerity gives the same ornament to character that modesty does to manners It would abundantly atone for the want of ri.liculous ceremony, or false and unmeaning professions; and It would in no respect diminish the lustre of a noble Air, or the pei-fection of an elegant address. If integrity be the foundation of that character which IS most generally acceptable, or which, in other words, possesses the power of pleasing in the highest degree, humanity and modesty are its highest orna- ments. The whole art of pleasing, as far as the virtues are concerned, may be derived from the one or the other of these sources. Humanity comprehends the display of everything amiable to others ; modestv I'OIJTKNEHS. 215 removes or suppresscH every thing offensive in our- selves. This mo is not to be stiff, formal, or embarrassed, disconcerted and ashamed; butit're- (piires great attention to, and a scrupulous observa- tion of, what the French call les bimseavccs ; a word which implies "decorum, good breeding, and pro- priety." Whatever we ought to do, i,, to be done with ease and unconc<>rn ; whatever is impropei-, must not be done at all. In mixed companies, also,' ages and -lexes are t(. l)e differently addressed. Although we are to be pei-fectly easy with all, old age particularly requires to be treated with a degree of deference and regard. It is a good general rule to accustom ourselves to have a kind feeling to every thing connected with man ; and when this is the case, we shall seldom orr in th. application. Another important point in the f>iem<^anr.e.<^ is, not to run our own present humour and disposition in- discriminately against everybody, but to observe and adopt theirs. And if we cannot command our present humour and disposition, it is necessary to I UOHKUT SHIELDS. single out those to conv(>r,se with who .hajjpeh to be in the humour the nearest to our own. Perempto- riness and decision, especially in young people, is contrary to the bien-s^ancei^ : they should seldom seem to dissent, and always use some softening, miti- gating expression. There is a hlensSance also with regard to people of the lowest degree; a gentleman observes it with his footman, and even, ih leed, with the beggar in the street. He considers them as objects of compassion, not of insult ; he speaks to neither in a harsh tone, but corrects the one coolly, and refuses the other with humanity. The following observations, perhaps, contain the sum of the art of pleasing :— 1. A f.xed and habitual resolution of endeavour- ing to please, is a circumstance which will seldom fail cf effect, and its effect will every day become more visible as this habit increases in strength. 2. This resolution must be regulated by a very considerable degree of good sense. 3. It is a maxim of almost general application, that what pleases us in another will also please others in us. 4. A constant and habitual attention to the dif- ferent dispositions of mankind, to their ruling pas- sions, and to their peculiar or occasional humours, is absolutely necessary. I'OLITENKSS. •'). A man who would pl<>a,st', inust possess a firm, equal, and steady temper; and, 0. An easy and graceful manner, as distant from l>ashfulness on the one liand, as from impudence on the other. " He who thinks himself sure (,f pleas- ing," says Lord Chesterfield, " and he who despairs of it, are equally sure to fail." And he is undoubt- edly in the right. The one, by his assuming vanity, IS inattentive to the means of pleasing ; and the other from fear, is rendered incapable of employing them. A variety of excellent rules, for ac(iuiring polite- ness, with strictures on particular kinds of impolite- ness, may be found in the Spectator, Ramhler, Idler, Lounger, Mirror, and other periodical works of that kind ; and among Swift's works. Chesterfield's Art of Pleasing, and his Letters, are also worthy of perusal, provided the reader be on his guard against the insincerity and other vices which those books are calculated to infuse, and provided he always bears in mind what we have endeavoured to show in this article, that true politeness does not consist iu specious manners and a dissimulating address, but that it must always be founded on real worth and intrinsic virtue. 4\ ' ti (,'l CHAPTER XXIX. NECESSITY OF CULTIVATING POLITENESH. i m ;■'] 11 L m pOLITENESS is one of those advantages which X we never estimate rightly but by the incon- venience of its loss. Its influence upon the manners is constant and uniform, so that, like an equal motion, it escapes perception. The circumstances of every action are so adjusted to each other, that we do not see where any error could have been committed, and rather acquiesce in its propriety than admire its exactness. But as sickness shows the value of ease, a little familiarity with those who were never taught to endeavour the gratification of others, but regulate their behaviour merely by their own will, will soon evince the necessity of established modes and form- alities to the happiness and quiet of common life. Wisdom and virtue are by no means sufficient with- out the supplemental laws of good -breeding, to secure freedom from degenerating to rudeness, or 4 ii M ii« i iii NfcCKSSlTV Ot' CUI.TIVATIN'O I'ofJTKNKSS. •>:>.•) Helf-estoem i'rom swelling into insolence ; a thousand incivilities may he committed, and a thousand of- fices neglected, without any remorse of conscicmce, or reproach from reason. The true effect of genuine iwliteness seems to he rather ease than pleasure. The power of delighting must be conferred by na- ture, and cannot lie delivered by precept, or obtained by imitation ; but, though it he the principle of a very small number to ravish and to charm, every man may hope by rules and caution not to give I)ain, and may, therefore, by the help of good-breed- ing, enjoy the kindness of mankind, though he should have no claim to higher distinction. The universal axiom in which all complaisance is included, and from which flow all the formalities which custom has established in civilized nations is, that no man shall fjivr any preference to himself. A rule so comprehensive and certain, that, perhaps, it is not easy for the mind to imagine an incivility without supposing it to be broken. There are, indeed, in every place, some particular modes of the ceremonial parts of good-breeding, which being arbitrary and accidental, can be learned only by habitude and conversation; such are the forms of salutation, the different gradations of rev- erence, and all the adjustments of place and proce- dure. These, however, may be often violated with- it'. I f 1 i * ' I; i -} .l'- 1 ") i ^!. A I '2'2(\ l«OBKKT SHlKhDS. <'"t otfentT, if It l,e scfficioMtly evident that neither mahce nor pride contributed to the failure ; but will not atone, however jigidly observed, for the tu- n)our of insolence, or the petulance of contempt. I have, indeed, not found among any part of man- kmd. le.s.s real and lational complaisance than among those who have passed their time in paying and re" ceiving visits, in fre(,uenting public entei-tainments, in studying the ex^ct measures of ceremony, and in watching all the variations of fashionable courtesy. They know, indeed, at what hour they may beat the door of an acquaintance, how n)any steps they must attend him towards the gate, and what inter- val should pass before his visit is returned ; buf .seldom extend their care beycmd the exterior and unessential parts of civility, nor refuse their own vanity and gratification, however expensive, to the quiet of another. To love all men is our duty, so far as it includes a general habit of benevolence, and readiness of oc- casional kindness ; but to love all equally is impos- sible ; at least impossible without the extinction of those passions which now prejudice all our pains and all our pleasures ; without the disease, if not the abolition, of some of our faculties, and the suppres- sion of all our hopes and fears in apathy and indif ference. at neither ; but will r the tu- bempt. t of man- an amonff g and re- al nments, y, and in courtesy, nay beat eps tliey lat inter- ed ; but srior and leir own e, to the includes ?s of oc- 3 impos- ction of ir pains not the luppres- d indif NKCI-XSITV (IF Ctll.TlVATlKO h)L|'fK\K.sH. 227 The necessities of our condition require a thou- sand ofKces of tenderness which mere regard for tlu; species will never dictate. P:very man has frequent ^'rievances, which only the solicitude of friendship will discover and remedy, and which would re- main for ever unh(.ede' are required to be merry, and to show the gladness of their souls by flights of pleas- antry and iHirsts of laughter. But though these men may be for a time heard with applause and admira- tion, they seldom delight us long. We enjoy them a little, and then retire to easiness and good-humour, as the ey.' gazes awhile on an eminence glittering GOOD-Hr.MOlTH. 229 I habit of mini 8oft- iuavity of coivt'S in ' felicity V kept in s. Good- concern ; ;o regard they as- r, and to di pleas - lesenu'ii admira- ' them a bumour, ittering with the sun, but soon turns aching away to verdure and to Hovvors. Gaiety is to good-huiuour as animal perfumes t(» vegetable fragrance; the one overpowers weak spirits, and the other recreates and revives them. Gaiety seldom fails to give some i)ain ; the hearers either strain their faculties to accompany its tower- ings, or are left behind in envy and despair. Good- humour boasts in no faculties which every one does not believe in his own power, and pleases princi- pally by not ott'ending. It is well known that the most certain way to give my man pleasure, is to persuade- him that y< ■ ceive pleasure from him ; to encourage him to Ireedom and confidence, and to avoid any such appearance of sui)eriority as may overbear and op{)ress him. Wo see many Avho, by this act only, .spend their days in the midst of ca- resses, invitations and civilities ; and without any extraordinary (pi^ilities or attainments, are tlie uni- versal favourites of both .sexes, and certainly find a friend in every place. The darlings of the world will, indeed, generally be found such as excite neither jealousy nor fear, and are not considered &:i candidates for any eminent degree of reputation, but content themselves with common accomplish- ments, and endeavour rather to solicit kindness than to rai.se esteem ; therefore, in nsy'.'uhlirs and places m- 230 ROBERT SHIELDS oi resort, It seldom fails to happen that, though at the entrance of some pa rtien In r person, many faces brighten with gladness, and every hand is extended m salutation, yet if you pursue him beyond the first exchange of civilities, you will find him of very small importance, and only welcome to the com^ pany as one by whom all conceive themselves ad- mu-ed and with whom one is at liberty to amuse himself, when he can find no other auditor or com^ panion; as one with whom all are at ease, who will hear a jest without criticism, and a narrative without contradiction, who laughs at every wit and yields to every disputer. There are many whose vanity always inclines them to associate with those from whom they have no reason to fear mortification; and there are times m which the wise and the knowing are willino- to receive praise without the labour of deserving it in which the most elevated mind is willinc. to de- scend, and the most active to be at rest. All, there- fore, are at some hour or another fond of compan- ions whom they can entertain upon easy terms, and who will relieve them from solitude, without con- demning them to vigilance and caution. We are most inclined to love when we have nothing to fear and he that encourages us to please ourselves will not be long without preference in our aftection to GOOD-HUMOUR. 231 those whose learning holds m at the distance of pupils, or whose wit calls all attention from us, and leaves us without importance and without regard. It is remarked by Prince Henry, when he sees Falstaff lying on the ground, that he could have better •spared a better man. He was well acquainted with the vices and follies of him whom he lamented ; but while his conviction compelled him to do justice to superior quali.ties, his tenderness still broke out at the remembrance of Falstaft", of tlie cheerful com- panion, the loud buffoon, with whom he had passed his time in all the luxury of idleness, who had gladded him with unenvied merriment, and whom he could at once enjoy and despise. You may perhaps think this account of those who are distinguished for their good-humour, not very consistent with the praises which I have bestowed upon it. But surely nothing can more evidently show the value of this quality, than that it recommends those who are destitute of all other excellences, and pro- cures regard to the trifling, friendship to the worths less, and afl'ection to the dull, If, -. t . ' 1 ^f^ if II 1 i ; mt ffii fli 1 - ; CHAPTER XXXI. THE EFFECT OF MODERN RICHES UPON THE MANNERS. I^OTHING has been longer observed, than that -L- ^ a change of foiiune causes a change of man- ners; and that it is difficult to conjecture from the conduct of him whom we see in a low condition how he would act if wealth and power were put into his hands. But it is generally agreed, that few men are made better by affluence or exaltation ; and that the powers of the mind, when they are unbound and expanded by the sunshine of felicity, more fre- quently luxuriate into follies than blossom into goodness. Many observations have concurred to establish this opinion, and it is not likely soon to become obsolete, for want of new occasions* to revive It. The greater part of mankind are corrupt in every condition, and differ in high and low stations, only as they have more or fewer opportunities of 5 i 234 ROBERT SHIELDS. I to approve. Kiches therefore, perhaps, do not so often produce crimes as incite accusers. The common charge against those who rise above their original condition, is that of pride. It is cer- tain that success naturally confirms us in a favour- able opinion of our own abilities. Scarce any man 1^- willing to allot to accident, friendship, and a thousand causes, which concur in every event with- out human contrivance or interposition, the part which they may justly claim in his advancement. We rate ourselves by our fortune rather than our virtues, and exorbitant claims are quickly produced by imaginary merit. But captiousness and jealousy are likewise easily offended, and to him who stu- diously looks for an affront, every mode of behaviour will supply it ; freedom will be rudeness, and reserve snllenness; mirth will be negligence, and seriousness formality; when he is received with ceremony, dis- tance and respect are inculcated; if he is treated with familiarity, he concludes himself insulted by con- descensions. It must, however, be confessed, that as all sudden changes ave dangerous, a quick trans- ition from poverty to abundance can seldom be made with safety. He that has long lived within sight of pleasures which he could not reach, will need more than common moderation not to lose his reason in un bounred by the transitory charms of trifling novelty. Some indulgence is due to him whom a liappy gale of fortune has suddenly transported into i if j: i ■' ^1 li 1 la 1 23G RO.HERT SHIELDS. 11 new regions, where unaccustomed lustre dazzles his eyes, and untasted delicacies solicit his appetite. Let him not be considered as lost in hopeless degen- eracy, though he i'ov a while forgets the regard due to others, to indulge the contemplation of himself and in the extravagance of his fi.st raptures expects that his eye should regulate the motions of all that approach him, and his opinion be received as deci- sive, oraculous. His intoxication will give way to tnne; the madness of joy will fume imperceptibly away ; the sense of his insufticiency will .soon re- turn; he will remember that the co-operation of others IS necessary to his happiness, and learn to conciliate their regard by reciprocal beneficence. There is, at least, one consideration which ou-dit to alleviate our censures of the powerful and r," h lo imagine them chargeable with all the guilt and tolly of theii- own actions, i.s to be very litth. ac- quainted with the w>.-, A. \V. He that can do much good or harm will not find Hiany whom ambition or cowardice will suffer to k- .sincere. While we live upon ohe level with the rest ftPt'ECT OP MolDERN- llIOMKS UPON MANNERS. 237 of mankind, we are remintled of our duty by the admonitions of friends and reproaches of enemies ; but men who stand in the highest ranks of society, seldom hear of theiv faults ; if, by any accident, an opprol)rious clamour reaches their ears, flattery is always at hand to pour in her opiates, to (juiet con- viction, and obtain remorse. Favour is seldom gained but by conformity in vice. Virtue can stand Avithout assistance, and con- siders her.self as very little obliged by countenance and approbi.tion ; but vice, spiritless and timorous, seeks the shelter of crowds, and support of con- federacy. The sycophant, therefore, neglects the good qualities of his patron, and employs all his art on his weakness and follies, regales of his reigning vanity, or stimulates his prevalent desires. Virtue is sufficiently difficult with any circum- stances, but the difficulty is increased when reproof and advice are frighted away. In common life, reason and conscience have only the appetites and passions to encounter ; but in higher stations they nuist oppose artifice and adulation. He, therefore, that yields to such temptations, cannot give those who look upon his miscarriage much reason for ex- ultation, since few can justly presume that from the same snare they should have been able to escape. •A I h >(!■ *ii^ k; r l^ If' ihi J il (Mapter xxxir. THE IJIIMIiTAXtl.; (,K I'L-XITUAUTV. TDOVLK l,a.s ol«mc.J, tlmt thu racelloncy „f ^ ".am,ract,„.e and tho facilityof labour wonM ^ m,ch ,„,.„ote,l, if the various o.xpCienk a,„I C^ ';r' """"""""■«!-» ...ado «eno,.allv , "'"' ''>" ""» »'■ other ,vith .some peculiar ad ::X ^"'.'' tho,„l. sin,,, of little Lpo'w, dlljne!: '"""■'■"="' '""' ^"™ -«• P"«-^ t" Tl.e«- are, in like „,a„ner, several ,noral excel once., d,stril,uted an.ong tl,e di«e,.nt ^e^^ ™nn,™,t rt„.a,, said bvCujaciu., that he nl t^ wT r "■" ^'^^ '••^- ^>''i''. '.«' -- not in- « u,cted; and he H,at shall enquire after virtue* , vW example or sentiments he „,„y not be im- k'licv of iir would nts and e liands, enoially are not iliar ad- 3rtancc, en new rcrs to excel- Js of a i never not in- e with an by )e im- the]imi'oiitan'ce of punctuality. '2^0 Kvery profession has some essential and appro- priate virtue, without which there can be no hope of honour or success, and which, as it is more or less cultivated, confers within its si^here of activity diftercnt degrees of merit and reputation. As the astrologers range the sub-di\isions of mankind under the planets wdiich they suppose to influence their lives, the moralist may distribute them accord- ing to the virtues which they necessarily practise, and consider them as distinguished by prudence or fortitude, diligence or patience. So much are the modes of excellence settled by time and place, that men may be heard boasting in one street of that which they would anxiously con- ceal in another. The grounds of scorn and esteem, the topics of praise and satire, are varied according to the several virtues or vices Avhich the course of life has disposed men to admire or abhor ; but he who is solicitous for his own improvement, must not be limited by local reputation, but select from every tribe of mortals their characteristical virtues, and constellate in himself the scattered graces which shine singly in other men. The chief praise to which a trader aspires is that of punctuality, or an exact and rigorous observance of commercial engagements; nor is there any vice of which he so much dreads the imputation, as of negligence and instability. iifii I , »« I m J ;;i ; > CHAPTER XXXIII. HOW POLITENESS IS MANIFESTED. rpo co^et such gro^ vice,s as lead us to commit Wher„ th»; / """' "'■'''""■■y "ducation. h?i:::i;cr:tt:''^;;-7^«--„ w.e.v.„at:;:ij^;rrerrpLS;- t r ^^ -«■ ^^^-ceirrrosr:^: :r -e conve.es, and to ,ieH „p the superiorit, toThet HOW POI.ITKNESs IS IVfANlFKSTED. 241 in all the common incingth both of mind and body, 'tis his part to alleviate that superiority as much as possible, by the generosity of his behaviour, and by a studied deference and complaisance for all her inclinations and opinions. Barbarous naticms di.splay this HuppHnrity by re- Irl f i i ' 242 UOBKUT SIHELDH. «iucin- tl.eir tVjiialcs to the most abject si confininv u'lii, by .selling them, bv pie discover tl It'll- au tliority .sex among a polite peo- though not a less evident in a more L'<>nerous, man respect, b ner; by civility, by i>y complaisauccand, in a word, hy galJuntry. In good company you need not a.sk. who is master of the feast ^ The man who sits in the lowest place ;^nd who is always industrious in helping everyone' i« most certainly the person. We must either con- demn all such instances of generosity as foppish and affected, or admit of gallantry among the rest The ancient Muscovites wedded their wives with a whin instead of a wedding ring. The same people, in their own houses, took always the precedency above for- eigners, even foreign ambas.sadors. These two in- stances of their generosity and politeness are much - ot a piece. CHAPTER XXXIV. KNDEAVOl'R T(» I'LKASK AND YOU CAN SCARCErA' I'Air, TO PI, K ASK. THE uK'Hiis of pleasing vary according to time, place, and person ; but the general rule is the trite one. P^ndeuvour to please, and you will infal- libly please to a certain degree ; constantly show a desire to please, and you will engage ])eoi)le's self- love in your interest — a most powerful advocate. This, as indeed almost everything else, depc:ids on attention. Be thqreforc attentive to the most trifling thing that passes where you are ; have, as the vulgar phrase is, your eyes and your ears always about j'ou. It is a very foolish, though a very common saying, " I really did not mind it," or " T was thinking of quity another thing at that time." The proper an- swer to such ingenious excuses, and which admits of no repl3% is, Why did you not mind it ? you were prcvsent when it was said or done. Oh ! but you may say you were thinking of (juitc another thing; i ti j>44 feOBlSRT SHIKLDS. vout, ^l'?""*"' """'^ «"ng. which you say ou attention : that. I am sure, is the saying of a «"> man ; iora „,an of sense knows that ti^ere is no company so .illy, that some use may not be made ot it by attention. mnv'r""^'"'''n'"''™-^'°" «'^'»°-™ i»t" com- pany be modest, t,ut without the least oashfulnes, or sheepishness; steady, without impudence, and unembarra^ed, as if you weve i„ yoL-own ^om. Ihis IS a difficult point t»hit, and therefore deserves gi-eat attention; nothing but a long usage in the wo.ld, and m the best company, can possibly give it whlT"/ ?*"■ ""*'""" ^""^-^"^S" of the world,' mo,T» ^ ^°'' '"*" " '"■""""''"^ eompany.where Id Zt'Jr'""'- '" """"""'^ either annihi- a ted by bashfulness. or, if he rouses and lashes him- elf up to what he only thinks a u.odest assurance. lenX 1."""""-" ""' -''-r*'y. and co«so. as much as you can, that gentleness of manners which neyr fails to make favourable impression ' Carefully avoid an argumentative and disputativc IP: KXDEAVOUR TO PLEASE. 245 1" place pro- ich you say ay, perhaps, not deserve saying of a hat there is lot be made into com- )ashfulnes8 lence, and own room, e deserves ge in the ly give it. he world, ny, where r annihi- iiheshim- ssuranee, id eoiise- ! always, nanners, ressions, smile or mtative turn, which too many people have, and some ev^n value themselves in the company ; and, when your opinion differs from others, maintain it only with modesty, calmness, and gentleness ; but never be eager, loud, or clamorous ; and, when you find your antagonist beginning to grow warm, put an end to the dispute by some genteel stroke of good hu- mour. For, take it for granted, if the two best friends in the world dispute Avith eagerness u})on the most trifling subject imaginable, they will, for the time, find a momentary alienation from each other. Disputes upon any subject are a sort of trial of the understanding, and must end in the mortification of one or other of the disputants. On the other hand, I am far from meaning that you should give an uni- versal assent to all that you hear .said in company ; such an a.ssent would be mean, and in some cases criminal ; but blame with indulgence, and correct with gentleness. Always look people in the face Avhen you speak to them, the not doing it is thought to imply conscious guilt ; besides that, you lose the advantage of observing by their countenances what impression youi- discourse makvs upon them. In order to know people's real sentiments, 1 trust much more to my eyes than to my ears ; for they can say whatever they have a mind that 1 should hear ; but they can seldom help looking what they h.ave no in- Bit' 240 KOBERT SHIELDS. tontio.i tluit I should kno^A^ If you have not com- mand enough over yourself to conquer your hu- mours, as lam sure every rational creature may have, never go into company while the fit of ill-humour is upon you. Instead of company's diverting you in those moments, you will displease and probably shock them ; and you will part worse friends than .you met ; but vrhenever you find in yourself a dis- position to sullenness, contradiction, or testiness, it M'ill be in vain to seek for a cure abroad. Stay at homo, let your humour ferment and work itself off. Cheerfulness and good humour are of all qualifica- tions the most amiable in company ; for, though they do not necessarily imply good nature and good breed - mg, they represent them, at least, very well, and that IS all that is required in mixed company. I have, in.leed, known .some veiy ill-natured people who wen^ very good-humoured'in company; but I never knew any one generally ilM.umoured in cmipany who was not es.sentially ill-natured. When there is no malevolence in the heart, there is always a cheerfulness and ease in the countenance and manners. By good-humour and cheerf.dness I am far from meaning noisy mirth and loud peals of laughter, which are the distinguishing characteristics ofthe vulgar and of the ill-bred, who.se mirth is a kind of storm. Observe it, the vulgar often lauLd. EXDEATOUtt TO PLE.VSE. 247 but never smile ; whereas well-bred people often smile bat seldom laugh. A witt . thing nevei- ex- cited laughter— it please?, only the^ mind and never distorts the countenance ; a glaring absurdity, a blunder, a silly accident, and those things that arc generally called comical, may excite a laugh, though never a loud nor a long one, among well-bred people. Sudden passion is called sliort- lived mad- ness ; it is a madness indeed, V,ut the fits of it return so often in choleric people that it may well be called a continual madness. Should you happen to be of this unfortunate disposition, make it your constant study to subdue, or at least to check, it ; when you find your choler rising, resolve neither to speak t nor answer the person who excites it, but stay till you find it subsiding, and then sp -ak deliberately. Endeavour to be cool and steady upon all occasions —the advantages of such a calmness are imiumei'- able, and would be tedious to relate. It may be ac- ([uired by care and reflection ; if it could not, that reason which tlistinguishes men from brutes Avould be given us to very little purpose; as a rroof of this I never haw, and scarcely ever heard of, a Quaker in a passion. In truth, there is in that sect a decorum and decency, and an amiable simplicity, that I know in no other. {) Si t ii CHAPTER XajCV. t? DIItliCTIOXS F(.>U THE MAXAGEMKNT OF WIT. IF you have wit (whicli I ain not sure that I wish you, unless you liave at the same time at least an equal portion of judgment to keep it in good (jrder) wear it like your sword, in the scabbard, and do not brandish it to the terror oi the whole com- pany. Wit is a shining quality that everybody ad- mires; most people aim at it ; all people fear it, and few love it, unless in themselves : a man must have a good share of wit himself to endure a great share in another. When wit exerts itself in satire, it is a most malignant distemper ; wit, it is true, may be shown in satire, but satii-e does not constitute wit, as many imagine. A man of wit ought to find a a thousand better occasions of showing it. Abstain, therefore, most carefully from satire, which, though it fall on no particular person in com- pany and momentarily, from the malignancy of tlie human heart, pleases all, yet; upon reflection, it 'i'HE MANAGEMENT OF WIT. 249 frightens all too. Every one thirks it may be his turn next ; and will hate you for what he finds you could say of him more than be obliged to you for what you do not say. Fear and hatred are next^ door neighbours ; the more wit you have the more good-nature and politeness you must show to in- duce people to pardon your superiority, for that is no easy matter. Appear to have rather less than more wit than you really have. A wise man will live at least as much within his wit as his income. (Content yourself with good sense and reason, which, at the long run, are ever sure to please everybody who has either— if wit comes into the bargain wel- come it, but never invite it. Bear this trutli always in your mind, that you may be admired for your wit, if you have any, but that nothing but good sense and good qualities can make you be beloved. These are substantial every day's wear, whereas wit IS a holiday suit, which people put on chiefly to be stared at. There is a species of minor ^vh which is much used, and much more abused— I mean raillery, ft is a most mischievous and dangerous weapon when in unskilful and clumsy hands ; and it is much safer to let it quite alone than to play with it. and yet almost everybody plays with it, though they see daily the quarrels and heart-burnings that it occa- 1 ■, !• ■ ■% , Hi: t 1 s ^ ;i 250 ROBERT SHIELDS. sions. The injustice of a bad mau is sooner forgiven than the insults of a witty one-- the former only hurts one's lib< rty and property, but th^ hMev hurts and niortifies that secret pride whicii no hnmun breasi iK fvo^ from. I will allow that there is a sort of raillei y wliidt may not only be inoffensive but even flattering ; f^a wlu^n, by a genteel irony, you accuse people of those imperfections which they are most notoriously free from, and consequently ijisinuate that they possess the contrary virtues. You may safely call Aristides a knave, or a very handsome woman an ugly one. Take care, however, that nei- ther the man's character nor the lady's beauty be in the least doubtful. But this sort of raillery requires a very light and steady hand to administer it. A little too strong, it may be mistaken into an offence; and a little too smooth, it may be thought a sneer, which is a most odious thing. There is another sort, I will not call it wit but merriment and buffoonery, which is mimicry. The most successful mimic in the world is always the most absurd fellow, and an ape is infinitely his superior. His profession is to imitate and idicule those natural defects and deformities for \ ; no man is in the ^ast accountable, and ir *he ..iation of which he , - es himself, for the tim u^ ,i.; agree- able and shocking as those he mimics. .^* it I will jfl y no more of these creatures, who onlv amuse the lowest labhle of mankind. There is another sort of human animals, called wags, whose profession is to make the company laugh immoderately, and Avho always succce.l-pro- vided the company consist of fools ; and who are equally disappointed in finding that they never can alter a muscle in tl)e ftice of a man of sense. This is a most contemptible character, and never esteemed, even by those who are silly enough to be diverted by them. Be content for yourself with sound good sense and good manners, and let wit be thrown into the bargain where it is proper and inoffensive. Good sense will make you esteemed; good manners will make you beloved ; and wit will give a lustre to both. '.ii CHAPTER XXXVI. KGOTISM TO BE AVOIDED. THE egotism is the most usual and favourite fig- ure of most people's rhetoric, and which I liope you will never adopt, but, on the contrary, most scrupulously avoid. Nothing is more disagreeable or irksome to the company than to hear a man either praising or condemning himself; for both proceed from the same motive — vanity. I would allow no man to speak of himself unless in a court of justice, in his own defence, or as a witness. Shall a man speak in his own praise ? No ; the hero of his own little tale always puzzles and disgusts the company, who do not know vhat to say, or how to look. Shall he blame himself ? No ; vanity is as much the motive of his condemnation as of his panegyric. I have known many persons to take shame to themselves, and, with a modest contrition, confess themselves guilty of most of the cardinal virtues. They have such a. weakness in their nature that they li i;U0ri.SM To lit; AV'OlDiiD. •2?>H cannot hcJp being too much moved with themisfoi'- tunes and n.isories of their fellow-eieatures ; which they feel perliap.s more, but at least as much as they do their own. Their generosity, they are sensible, IS imprudence ; for they are apt to carry it too far liom the weak, the irresistible beneficence of their nature. They are possibly too jealous of their honour, too irascible when they think it is touched • and this proceeds from their unhappy warm consti- tution, which makes them too sensible upon that point; and so, possibly, with respect to all the vir- tues. A poor trick, an.l a wretched instance of hu- man vanity, and what defeats its own puipose. Do you be sure never to speak of yourself, for you.self nor against yourself ; but let your character s^eak tor you : whatever that says will be believed, but whatever you say of it will not be believed, and only make you odious and ridiculous. I know that you are generous and benevolent in your nature, but that, though the principal point, is not enough • you niust seem so too. I do not mean ostentatiously • but do not be ashamed, as too many young fellows are, of owning the laudable sentiments of o-ood na- tme and humanity, which you really feel. I have known many .ung men, who desired to be reckoned men of spirio, affect a hardness and unfeelingness which in reality they never had ; their conversation m 1 1 i •'I: 1 1 t .1 1 #•*% 254 KOBEUT SHIELDS. .Ihtjrfcl is in the decisive and menacing tone, mixed with horrid and silly oaths ; and all this to he thought men of spirit. Astonishing error this! which naturally reduces them to this dilemma. If they really mean what they say, they are brutes ; and if they do not, they are fools foi- saying it. This, however, is a common character among young men. Carefully avoid this contagion, ^and content your.self with be- ing calmly and mildly resolute and steady, when you are thoroughly convinced yon are in the right; for this is true s])ivit Observe the a 'pvopon in ever} thing you say or do, In conversing with those who are much your ,supe- liors, however easy and familiar you may and ought to be with them, preserve the respect tliat is due to them. Convo'o with your ■ (uals with an easy familiarity, and, at the same time, great civility and decency ; but too much familiai'ity, according to the • »ld saying, ofteii breeds conteupt, and sometimes (luariels. I know nothing more difficult in comn.on behaviour than to fix due bound,^ tofcmiliarity ; too little implies an un.social : aal'fy, too much des- troys social and friendly ii rco. e. The best rule I can give you to manage familiarity is, never t( be more familiar with anybody than you would be will- ing, and even wish, that he should be M'ith you. On the othtM- hand, avoid that uncomfortable reserve -4y EGOTISM TO BE AVOIUliD. 255 and coldno» which is generally the shield of cunning you should u,c. a heavey benevolence i„ your words aughed at hem. Carefully avoid all nffeeution eitherof body or of ininrl Tf i. . vei3 tnte observation, that no man is ridiculous for what he really :s. but for affecting to be what he i« not No man is awkward by nature, but ))v affect- ng to be genteel. I have known many a man of CO. nnon sense pass generally for a fool because he nilec^ed n degree of wit that nature had denied him A ploui an IS by no means awkward in the exer- c.se of h.s trade but would be exceedingly ridiculous ^ he attempted the air and graces of a man of fashion You learned to dance, but it was not for the sake of glancing ; ,t was to bring your air and motions bacR to what they naturally would have been if they had had fan- play, and h..d „ot been wa.ped in n outh by bad examples, and awkward imitations 'of other boys. Nature n,ay be cultivated and improved, both as to the body and the mind ; but it is not to be extin- ^mshed by art, and all end avours of that kind are absurd, and an inexpressible fund for ridicule. Your body and mind must be at ease to bo a^r-ohie- but iH.i' 2o(i ROBKRT SHIKLUS. ati'ectatioii is a particular reHtvaint, uiidt'i' which no man can bo genteel in his carriage, or phasing in his conversation. Do vou think yovn- motions would be easy or graceful if 3'ou ■wore the clothes of another man nmcli slenderer or taller than yourself ( Cer- tainly not. It is the same thing with the mind, if you affect a character that does not fit you, and that natino never intended for you. In fine, it may be laid down as a general rule, that a man who despairs of pleasing, will never please ; a man that is sure that he shall always please wherever he goes, is a coxcomb ; but the man who hopes and endeavours to please, will most infallibly please. (iiht C'HAPTER XXXVII. KNVY, ENV^Y is almost the only vice which is pmctic- ablo at all times, and in every place ; the only passion which can never lie (juiet for want of irritation ; its effects, therefore, are everywhere dis- coverable, and its attempts always to he dreaded. It is impossible to mention a name, which any advantageous distinction has made (nninent, but some latent animosity will burst out. The wealthy trader, however he may abstract himself from public affairs, will never want those M'ho hint with Shylock that ships are but boards, and that no man can properly be termed rich whose fortune is at the mercy of the winds. The beauty adorned oidy v.itli the unambitiotis ^naces of innocence and modesty, provokes, when- ever she appears, a thousand murmurs of detraction, and whispers of suspicion. The genius, even when he endeavours only to entertain with pleasinjc; 41' r I I'M 268 HOBERT SHIELDS. images of nature, or instruct by uncontested prin- ciples of science, yet suffers persecution from in- numerable critics, whose acrimony is excited merely by the pain of seeing otlicrs pleased, of hearing applauses whitih another enjoys. The frequency of envy makes it so familiar that it escapes our notice; nor do we often reflect upon its turpitude or mallg-' nity, till we happen to feel its influence. When he that has given no provocation to malice, })ut by attempting to excel in some useful art, finds himself pursued by multitudes whom he never saw with im- placability of personal resentment ; when he per- ceives clamour and malice let loose upon him as a public enemy, and incited by every stratagem of defamation ; wlien he hears the misfortunes of his family, or the follies of his youth, exposed to the world ; and every failure of conduct, or defect of nature, aggravated and ridiculed ; he then learns to abhor those artifices at which he only laughed before, and discovers how much the happiness of life v/ould be advanced by the eradication of envy from the human heart. Envy is, indeed, a stubborn weed of the uiiiul, and seldom yields to the culture of philosophy. There are, however, considerations which, if carefully im-. planted, and diligently propagated, n)ight in time overpower and ■ ;?)ess it, sinqe no one can nurse it ENVY. 259 for the ,sake of pleasure, as its effects are only shame, anguish, and perturbation, It is, above all other vices, inconsistent witli the cliaracter of a social beino^, because it sacrifices truth and kindness to very weak temptations. He that plunders a wealthy neighbour, gains as much as he takes away, and improves his own condition, in the same proportion as he impairs another's; but he that blasts a flourishing reputation, must be content with a small dividend of additional fame, ho small as can afford very little consolation to balance the guilt by which it is obtained. I have hitherto avoided mentionini-tliatdanirerous and enipirical morality, which cures one vice by means of anotliei-. But r nvy is so base and detest- Jible, so vile in its original, and so pernicious in its efiects, that the predominance of almost anv other quality is to be desired. It is one of those lawless enemies of society, against which the poisoned arrows may lionestly be used. Let it, therefore, be constantly remembered, that whoever envies an- othei', confesses his superiority, and let those be reformed by their }))ide, Avho have lost their virtue. It is no slight aggravation of the injuries which envy excites, that they are ct)nunitted against those who have given no intentional provocation ; and that the suffe)-er is marked out for ruin, not because 2()() ROBEKT SHIELDS. be ban failed in any duty, but bccauHe be ban dared to do more tlian was required. Ahnost every otber crime is practised by tbe belp of some quality wbicb mi(,dit have produced esteem or love, if it had been well employed ; but envy is a more unmixed and ,^•enuino evil ; it pursues a hateful end by despicable means, and desires not so much its own happiness as another's misery. To avoid depravity like this, it is not necessary' that any one should aspire to heroism or sanctity ; but only, that be should resolve not to quit the rank which nature assigns, and wish to maintain the dif,mity of a hvnnan being. CHAPTER XXXVIII. EXAMPLE, ITS PREVALENCE. IS it not Plinj'.my LorJ.who says, that the gentlest, he should have added the most effectual, way of command, is by example, and tyranny itself becomes persuasive ? What a pity it is that -so few princes have learned this way of commanding ! But again the force of example is not confined to those alone that pass immediately under our sight; the examples that memory suggests have the same effect in their degree, and an habit of recalling them will soon pro- duce the habit of imitating them. In the same epistle from whence I cited a passaL'e just now, Seneca says, that Cleanthes had never become so perfect a copy of Zeno, if he had not passed his life with him ; that Plato, Aristotle, and the other phil- osophers of that school, profited more by the example than by the discourses of Socrates. (But here by the way Seneca mistook ; Socrates died two years accord- ing to some, Mid four years according to others, be- S.2SI- fi 262 ROBKRT SHIELDS. fore the birth of Aristotle; and his mistake might come from the inaccuracy of those who collected for him ; as Erasmus observes, after Quintillian, in his judgment on Seneca.) But be this, which was scarce worth a parenthesis, as it will, he adds that Me- trodorus, Hermachus, and Polyxenus, men of great note, were formed by living under the same roof with Epicurus, not by frequenting his school. These are instances of the force of immediate example. But your lordship knows citizens of Rome placed the images of their ancestors in the vestibules of their houses • so that whenever they went in or out, these venerable bustoes met their eyes, and recalled the glorious actions of the dead, to fire the living, to excite them to imitate and even emulate their great forefathers. The success answered the design. The virtue of one generation was transfused, by the magic of example, into several; and a spirit of hero- ism was maintained through many ages of that com- monwealth, CHAPTER XXXIX. DANGEROUS WHEN COPIED WITHOUT JUDGMENT. "pETER of Medicis had involved himself in great -■- difficulties, when these wars and calamities began which Lewis Sforza first drew on and entailed on Italy, by flattering the ambition of Charles the Eighth, in order to gratify his own, and calling the French into that country. Peter owed his distress to hi.s folly in departing from the general tenor of con- duct his father Laurence had held, and hoped to re- lie .'e himself by imitating his father's example in one particular instance. At a time when the wars with the Pope and King of Naples had reduced Laurence to circumstances of great danger, he took the resolution of going to Ferdinand, and of treating in person with that Prince. The resolution appears in histoiy imprudent, and almost desperate ; were we informed of the secret reasons on which this great man acted, it would appear very possibly a ■wise and safe measure It succeeded, and Laur- H; ' m ' n ifi* H|: III lii^i jH 264 ROBEllT SHIELDS. encc brought back with him public peace and pri- vate security. When the French troops entered the dominions of Florence, Peter was struck with a panic terror, went to Charles the Eighth, put the port of Leghorn, the fortress of Pisa, and all the keys of the country, into this Prince's hand; whereby he disarmed the Florentine Commonwealth, and ruined himself He was deprived of his authority, and' driven out of the city, by the just indignation of the magistrates and people; and in the treaty which they made afterwards with the King of France, it was stipulated that he should not remain within a hun- dred miles of the state, nor his brothers within the same distance of the city of Florence. On this occasion Guicciardini observes how dangerous it is to govern ourselves by particular examples ; since to have the same success, we must have the same prudence, and the same fortune : and since the ex- ample must not only answer the case before us in genei-al, but in every minute circumstance. CHAPTER XL. THE LOVE OF FAME. T CAN by no means agree with you in thinkincr -A- that the love of fame is a passion, which either reason or religion condemns. I confess, indeed, there are some who have represented it as inconsistent wi h both ; and I remember, in particular, the ex- cellent author of "The Religion of Nature Delineat- ed." has treated it as highly irrational and absurd As the passage falls in so thoroughly with your own turn of thought, you will have no objection I imagme, to my quoting it at large; and I give'it you, at the same time, as a very great authority on your side. " In reality," says that writer, " the man IS not known ever the more to posterity, because his name is transmitted to them : he doth not live because his name does. When it is said, Julius Caesar subdued Gaul, conquered Pompey, &c. it is the same thing as to say, the conqueror of Pompey M^as Julius Caesar, i. r n^pcar and fhp p--^ . -. _rK..ftx ana tne ccinqueror oi R 'i;i "I 2GG KOt?KUT SHIELDS. M Poinpey is tlie same thing; Ciysar is as much known by one designation as by the other. The amount then is only this : that the conqueror of Pompey conc^uered Pompey ; or rather, since Pompey IS as little known now as Caesar, somebody conquer- ed somebody. Such a poor business is this boasted immortality! and such is the thing called glory among us ! To discerning men this fame is mere air, and what they despise, if not shun." But surely " 'twere to consider too curiously," as Horatio says to Hamlet, " to consider thus." For though fame with posterity should be, in the strict analysis of it, no other than what it is here describ- ed, a mere uninteresting proposition, amounting to nothing more than that somebody acted meritori- ously ; yet it would not necessarily follow, that true philosophy would banish the desire of it from the human breast. For this passion may be (as most certainly it is) wisely implanted in our .species, notwithstanding the corresponding object should in reality be very different from what it appears in im- agination. Do not many of our most refined and even contemplative pleasures owe their existence to our mistakes ? It is but extending (I will not say improving) some of our senses to a higher degree of acuteness than we now possess them, to make the fairest views of nature, or the nol)lest productions of THE LOVE OF FA>rE. 1>G7 B IS mere art, appear horrid an' fiiendsliip, ]>y continino; our choice to few people.and niakiujr us iiulitterent to the company and convei'sation of tlie greatest part of men. You will very seldom find that mere men of the world, what- ever stronnr sense they may be endowed Avith, are very nice in distinguishing of characters, or in mark- ing those insensible differences and gradations which make one man preferable to another. Any one that has competent sense, is sufficient for their enter- tainment ; they talk to him of their pleasures and affairs with the same frankness as they would to any other ; and, finding many who are fit to supply his place, they never feel any vacancy or want in his absence. But, to make use of the allusion of a famous French author, the judgment may be com- pared to a clock or watch, where the ordinary ma- chine is sufllicient to tell the hours, but the most ela- 274 ROBERT SHIELDS. borate and artificial only can point the minutes and seconds, and distinguish the smallest difference of tnno. One who Jias well digested his knowledge both of books and men, has little enjoyment but in the company of a few select companions. He feels too senstbly how much all the rest of mankind fall short of the notions which he has entertained; and his affections being thus confined in a narrow circle no wonder he carries^them farther than if they were' more general and undistinguished. The gaiety and trohc of a bottle companion improves with him into a solid friendship, and the ardours of a youthful appetite into an elegant passion. minutes and liff'erence of knowledge iient but in 1. He feels ankind fall ained; and irow circle, they were gaiety and h him into ' youthful CHAPTER XLIV. DETIUCTION A DETESTAHLE VICE. IT has been remarked that men arc generally kind in proportion as they are happy; and itissaid, even of the devil, that he is good-humoured when he is pleased. Every act, therefore, by which another is injured, from whatever motive, contracts more guilt and expresses greater malignity, if it is com- mitted in those seasons which are set apart to plea- santry and good humour, and brightened with en- joyments peculiar to rational and social beino^s. De- traction is among those vices which the most languid virtue has sufficient force to prevent ; because by de- traction, that is not gained which is taken away. " He who filches from me my good name," says Shak- speare, " enriches not himself, but makes me poor in- deed." As nothing, therefore, degrades human na- ture more than detraction, nothing more disgraces conversation. The detractor, as he is the lowest moral character, reflects greatej- dishonour upon bis ' n "e ^?- 27U ROBEKT SHIKLDS. ,7"'"'"^ than U,„ hang,,.,,,,; and he, wl,„.,e ,li™„i. g™ iy avo.clc^ than he who i» seandalon, on^ ; - oflence. But fo,. thi, ,,„„.,iee, ),owove.. vile, ,„,„» —oda..d to a,,oI„gi.e.by contending tl,.t the r port ^y wh,a they have i,.j....ed an aUse;:teha,.acte.: "d tIatT, ■'°',™"'"'-'«' ">"l-e with faLsehood, a tl at l,e,e ,, ,„,„e difiWence between det,-actio„ » lander. To ,elate ,dl the ill that i,s true o the bes ,„.„ ,„ the wcl.l would ,„„bably rendc- .... the objeet of .,„»„i„io„ and di.st'™t; and w h,. ,„,,et,ee unive.M .nutual eonfiden e and em, the eon,f„,te of .oeiety. and the e„dear,„ent of f.-,endsh,,,. would be at an end. The,e is so,nething unspeakably ,nore hateful in those speces of villany by which the law i, evaded than those by which it is violated and deffled. C„u,'' go has son.eti,nes preserved rapacity fi-cn abho . renc^ as beauty has been thought to^ogize for P osftufon ; but the injustice of cowardi e is f,niver sally abhor,.ed, and, like the lewdness of deforZ has no advocate. Thus hateful a,-e the wretchl' who detract with caution, and while they pe,.petrate he wrong, are solicitous to avoid the reproach.' They do not say that Chloe forfeited her honour to Lysan der; but they say that such a report has been 5;ead; DETRACTION A DETESTAHLE VICE. ^77 they know not how true. Those who propagate these reports frequently invent them ; and it is no breacli of charity to suppose this to be always the ease ; be- cause no man who spreads detraction would have scrupled to produce it; and he who should dittuse poison in a book, would scarce be acquitted of a ma- hcious design, though he should allege that he re- ceived it of another who is doing the same elsewhere. Whatever is incompatible with the highest dignity of our nature, should indeed be excluded from our conversation; as companions, not only that which we owe to ourselves but to others, is recpiired of us ; and they who can indulge any vice in the presence of each other, are become obdurate in guilt, and in- sensible to infamy. M ' i a .1 ; iJ CHAPTER XLV. LEARNING SHOULD BE SOMETIMES APPLIED TO CUL- TIVATE OUR MORALS. Tj^NVY, curiosity, and our sense of the imper- -A-J fection of our present state, incline us always to estimate the advantages which are in the posses- sion of others above their real value. Every one must have remarked what powers and prerogatives the vulgar imagine to be conferred by learning. A man of science is expected to excel the un- lettered and unenlightened, even on occasions where literature is of no use, and among weak minds loses part of his reverence by discovering no superiority m those parts of life in which all are unavoidably equal; as when a monarch makes a progress to the remoter provinces, the rustics are said sometimes to wonder that they find him of the same size with themselves. These demands of prejudice and folly can never be satisfied, and therefore many of the imputations which learning suflfers from disappointed D TO CUL- LEAUNING APPLIED TO CULTIVATE MoilALS. i>7() ignorance, are without reproach. Yet it cannot l)o denied, that there are some faihiros to which men of study are peculiarly exposed. Every condition has its disadvantages. The circle of knowledge is too wide for the most active and diligent intellect, and while science is pursued with ardour, other accom- plishments of e(iual use are necessarily neglected ; as a small garrison must leave one part of an ex- tensive fortress naked, when an alarm calls them to another. The learned, however, might generally support their dignity with more success, if they suffered not them.selves to be misled by superfluous attainments or qualifications which few can under- stand or value, and by skill which they may sink into the grave without any conspicuous opportunities of exerting. Raphael, in return to Adam's inquiries into the courses of the stars and ihr revolutions of heaven, counsels him to withdraw his mind from idle speculations, and, instead of watching motions which he has no power to regulate, to employ his faculties upon nearer and more interesting objects, the survey of his own life, the subjection of his passions, the knowledge of duties which must daily be performed, and the detection of dangers which must daily be incurred. f n CHAPTER XLVI. ITS PROGRESS. "TT has been observed by the ancients, that all the -L arts and sciences arose from free nations ; and that the Persians and E^^yptians, notwithstanding ail their ease, opulence and luxury, made but fain't ettorts towards those finer ple.usures. which were earned to such perfection by the Greeks, amidst con- tinual wai^, attended with poverty, and the jrreat- est simplicity of life and manners. It had also been observed, that as soon as the Greeks lost their liber- ty, though they increased mightily in riches, by the means of the conquest of Alexander, yet the arts from that moment declined amongst them, and have never since been able to raise their head in that cli- mate. Learning was transplanted to Rome, the only free nation at that time in the universe; and hav- ing met with so favourable a soil, it made prodi-^ious shoots for above a century; till the decay of liberty produced also a decay of letters, and spread a total ITS IMKKiHESS. 281 baibaiistu over tl.e vvorl.l. From the.so two cxp..ii- inents. of which oach wan ,Iouble in its kin.l, a.ul .showed the fall of learning in despotic governments as well as its rise in popular ones, Longinus thou-dit hnnself sufficiently justiHed in asserting that the arts and sciences could never Honrish but in a frof. government ; an.l in this opinion he has been fol- lowed by several eminent writers in our country who either confined their view merely to ancient tacts, or entertaine,! too great a partiadty in favour of that form of government which is establisheegan to lose their liberty by the usuipations of the family of Medicis. Ariosto, Tasso, Galileo, no more than Raphael and Michael Angelo, were not born in republics. And though the Lombard school w.-us famous a.s well as the Roman, yet the Venetians have had the smallest share in its honours, and seem mther inferior to the Italians in their genius for the arts and sciences, Rubens established his s 282 ROBERT SHIELDS. school at Antwerp, not at Amsterdam ; Dresden, not Hamburg, is the centre of politeness in (Ger- many. But the most euiinent instance of the flourish- ing state of learning in despotic Governments, is that of France, which .^caice ever enjoyed an established liberty, and yet has carried the arts and sciences as near perfection as any other nation. The English are, perhaps, better philosophers ; the Italians better [)ainters and musicians : the Romans better orators ; but the French are the only people, except the Greeks, who have been at once philoso- phers, poets, orators, historians, painters, architects, sculptors, and musicians. With regard to the stage, they have excelled even the Greeks, who have far excelled the English ; and in common life they have in a great measure perfected that art, the most use- ful and agreeable of any. Tart de vivre, the art of society and conversation. If we consider the state of the sciences and polite arts in our countrj^ Horace's observation with regard to the Roma-^s, may, in a great measure, be applied to the British : Sed in loiigum tamen ievum Manserunt, bodieque manent vestigia ruris.* The elegance and propriety of style have been *The traces of rusticitj' long remained, and even now remain among us. ITS PROGRESS. 283 very much neglected among us. We have no clict.onary of our language, and scarce a tolerable grammar. The first polite prose we have was wrote by a man who is still alive. As to Sprat, Locke and even Temple, they knew too little of the rules' ot art to be esteemed very elegant iters. The pro«e of Bacon, Harrington, and Milton, is altogether «tift and pedantic ; though their sense be excellent Men m this country have been so much occupied in the great disputes of religion, politics and philoso- l>hy, that they have no relish for the minute obser- vatK)ns of grammar and criticism. And though this turn of thinkmg must have considerably in.proved our sense and our talent of reasoning beyond those of other nations, it must be confessed, that even in those sciences above mentioned, we have not any stanchu-d book which we can transmit to posterity and the utmost we have to boast of, are a few essays towards a more just philosophy; which, indeed promise very much, but have not, as yet, reached any degree of perfection. 3W remain CHAPTER XLVII. usKLKss; wiTiiour TAsrt:. A MAN may know exactly all the circles and ellipst. of the Copernican system, and all the iiTcgular spirals of the Ptolemaic, without per- ceiving that the former is more beautiful than the latter. Euclid has very fully explained every qual- ity of the circle, but has not, in any proposition, said a word of its beauty. The reason is evident. Beauty is not a ipiality of the circle. It lies not in any part of the line, whose parts are all equally distant from a connnon centre. It is only the effect which that figure operates upon the mind, whose particular fabric or structure renders it susceptible of such sentiments. In vain would you look for it in the circle, or seek it either by your senses, or by mathematical reasonings, in all the properties of that figure. The mathematician, who took no other pleasure in reading Virgil but that of examining .Eneas's ;iiclos and 1, and all thout per- 1 than the very (jual- roposition, s evident, lies not in ill eqnally the effect id, wliose usceptible ook for it •scs, or by perties of Useless without taste. 28.") voyaye by the map, might umU'istand perfectly the meaning of every Latin word employed by that divine author, and con.se(piently might have" a dis- tinct idea of the whole narration; he would even have a more distinct idea of it, than they could who have not studied so exactly the geograpliy of the poem. He knew, therefore, everything in the poem. But he M-as ignorant of its beauty; because the beauty, properly speaking, lies not in the poen., but m the sentiment or taste of the reader. And where a man has no such delicacy of temper as to make him feel this sentiment,he must be ignorant of the beauty, though possessed of the science and understanding of an angel. ^ |(p| ' pleasure I ..-Eneas's Ui I CHAPTER XLVIII. ON THE GUILT OF INX'URRIXG DEBTS WITHOUT EITHER A PROSPECT OR AN INTENTION OF PAYMENT. AMONG the various devices wliich young men have invented to involve themselves in dif- ficulties and in ruin, none is more frequent than that of incurring debt at a very early age without any real necessity. No sooner is the aspiring youth emancipated from his school, or his guardian and superintendents, than he becomes, in his own idea, a man ; and not only so, but a man of consequence, whom it behoves^to dress, and make a figure. To accomplish the purpose of making a figure, some ex- pensive vices are to be aflfected or practised. But as the stipends of young men just entering into life are usually inconsiderable, it is necessary to borrow on the most disadvantageous terms, or to purchase the various requisites of a pleasurable life on credit. The delit soon accumulates from small beginnincrs to a great sum. The young adventurer continues, THE GUILT OF INX'URRING DEBTS. 287 while his credit i,s good, in the same wild career ; but adieu to real pleasure, to improvement, to honest ininess by hastily running into debt before they knew the value of money, or the consequences of their embarrass- raent. We pity their misfortune ; and, in the first part of their progress, we do not usually accuse them ff ', ROBEUT SHIELDS. of dishonesty; but the habit of incurring debt, though in the earlier periods of life it may originate in thoughtlessness, commonly leads to a crime most atrocious in itself, and inj urious to society. He who prayed against poverty, lest he should be poor and steal, understood human nature. Difficulties and distresses have a natural tendency to lessen the re- straints of conscience. The fortress of honour, when stormed by that sort of poverty which is occasioned by profligacy, and not defended with sound principles (such as men of the world do not often possess), has for the most part yielded at discretion. He, then, who began with incurring debt merely because he was strongly stimulated by passion or fancy, and was not able to pay for their gratification, proceeds, when the habit is confirmed, and the fiist scruples dismissed, to contract debt wherever unsuspectino- confidence will afford him an opportunity-. If he possesses titles, distinctions, or any kind of eminence, he will not find it difficult to gain credit. Young tradesmen, desirous of making connections, are ready to run any risk ; and hope that, if it is long before they receive their money, they shall not be without the great man's patronage or recommen- dation. But here also they are often deceived ; for the great man, without principle, considers his credit- ors as his enemies, and never thinks of them but to '^ tl{E GUILT OF INCUliRiNo hkHTS. 289 contrive methods to avoid an.l .leceivc tliem. If lie happens to receive any money, lie takes care to ex- pend It among st)angers, who have no other demand "pon him but for the commodity wliich he pays for at the time of purchase. TJie world is wide"; and when one set of credulous tradesmen are wearied with expectation and disappointment, the great man emigrates to another part of the town or country and condescends to confer on some ambitious but unfor- tunate mortal the honour of dealing with him. Thus he goes on during the greater part of his life ; and when the creditors are importunate, and the horrors of a gaol impend, ho collects his property, and with- draws from the kingdom, or, living in disguise, en- joys his luxuries, and laughs at his deluded trades- men. Indeed, a.s most ill qualities go together, his pride is so great, that he scarcely vouchsafes to be- stow upon such low creatures as tradesmen a moment's consideration. But A^■hile ^he builder, the draper, the tailor, the butcher, the uaker, and' the chandler, remain unpaid, the jockey and the horse- dealer, the mistress and the brother-oamester, receive ready money with ostentatious profusion. Sharpers and prostitutes, with all the qualities of thievery, riot in those riches which ought to be paid to honest men, who, with their families, are reduced to a state of starving, by feeding, clothing, and accommodating 290 ROHKHT SHIELDS. -f Home lianleno.l prolligate and extravagant debauchee. Who but must feel indignation when he sees a man in high life, as it is called, eating a joint of meat of •some i.oor tradesman, whose children are at the same moment begging of their parents a morsel of bread ? Indeed, the pride and vanity of some persons, who value themselves en their l,irth, or their fashionable mode of life, induce them to look upon themselves as a superior order c.f beings, and to presume that they have a right to be still supported by their tradesmen in profusion and elegance, even after they are reduced in their circumstances, either by mis- fortune or misconduct. If an honest man makes his demand, he is impertinent ; his insolence is not to be borne; he is dismi.ssed, but not till he evidently shows that h3 will no longer supply the commodities m which he ounde,l. There is hardly any mode of public life especially in the metropolis, in which you can be' engaged, without having your property exposed to the depredations of villains, who have made cheat- ing a profession, and reduced the art of robbery to a regular system. Many of the persons who live on the substance of others, by borrowing, purchasing, or employing, without intending and without being able, to pay, make a splendid tig-are, and pass for gentlemen and men of honour. But, however they may felicitate themselves on their success, and in the gratification of their pride and vanity, I shall not hesitate to pronounce them more criminal and de- testable than highwaymen and house-breakers, be- cause to the crime of actual theft they add a most ungenerous breach of confidence. CHAPTER XLIX. ON THE FOLLY OF BEIX(} ANXIOUSLV CURIOUS TO INQUIRE WHAT IS SAID OF US IN OUR AUSENCE. rriHE best dispositions have usually the most sen- -L sibility. They have also that "delicate :e3 cl(>.spise him. These will see his actions with a jaun- diced eye, and will represent them to others in the coloursin which they theuiselves behold them. Many, from carelessness, wantonness, or from a desire to entertain their compa.iy, are incli.ied to sport with respectable characters, and love to display their in- .i^'enuity by the invention of a scandalous tale. No- thin- lenders a man more agreeable in many com- panies than his possessing a fund of delicious anec- •h^tes. Calumny is a kind of salt which, moro frequently than wit, seasons the feast of conversation It IS certain, then, that from weakness, wantonness, or malevolence, a man whose merit renders him a topic of conversation, will be misrepresented ; and he who solicitously inquires what is .said of hin., will certainly hear something which will render him' uneasy. His uneasiness wdl be increased, when he finds the poisoned arrow is shot in the dark ; so that no abilities can repel the blow, and no innocence shield him from the assailant. Open attacks can be openly opposed ; but the obscure insinuation pro- ceeds without the possibility of resistance, like t^e worm, which penetrates the ship that has withstood the cannon. It is better, therefore, not to be too anxious to discover attacks which, when discovered, add to our torment, but cannot be successfully re- sisted. Indeed, we are apt to feel upon these ocea^ 294 ROBLHT SHIKLDS. Hions more acutely tlmn we ought. We are tol.l l,y a menial servant, or souie other of our .s])ies, that a IHM-Non whom we esteemed our friend luis spoken Hligiitinf;iy of us, made a joke upon us, or cast a severe reHeetion. Immediately upon hearing the infornuition, our l>l()od boils within us. The in«lig- luty, wo imagine, calls for our warmest resentment. < >ur friend is discarded, or suspected, as a treacher- ous wretch, unworthy of our love and conHdence- This luusty ebullition of resenttnent is, I am ready to allow, very natural, and so arr many other dis- orders of the passions. But if we were to study the case, and acquire a right idea of the ways of men in society, we should find that, in such instances, our resentment may not only be too violent, but cause- less ; for we should recollect, that a man, without absolutely relinquishing his principles, is often in- cii:iod, from the incidental influence of temper, of levity, of frolic, of intemperance, of precipitation, tr- speak inconsistently with them, and in a manner which the general tenor of his conduct uniformly cctfitradicts. We should also recollect, that besides this temporary variableness of the mind, the tongue ia urn 'V, and, when the spirits or the passions are high, nt. ■ , 'moat spontaneously what the nnnd, which i gu t.- 'aid the bridle, would, in more de- libemt*' ii?r>ii.^nts, willin^:y restrain. If we reflect FOLLV OF Cl'ltlOSFTY AS TO WHAT IS SAID OF US. 295 "Pon thcr tlu.;^.s. u.ul u,.u„ what l.us fnlN-n muhv •""•o^pon.nce. wo may, p.nhaps, .li.scover that real '•^'"l worthy iVien-Js may .speak unl» '""0 read of only wtr T""^?"-. '*'"''"'« f''""''"''^ *'•'' --d r«Lr t r^'"'" "* knowledge: it i, mnHnr, t^t r„i v T ""'"s'^ *" '^'^'" ""■^''^^ with : g^t load of collection, ; unless w« chew them over Sed '7 ""' ?'™ " -""'-•'■""•-t There are, hoult ^ ^"'"o -"tor., vi,ible instances of deep Id* ThlT W .r"*" '■«'«"»>g,and ideas well p„r- ■l if fh ^^^ •'"-■'" *""''' Sive would !„. of groat A the! : '!f "r "■o"''J«l--e and imitate then.. A lithe ,es ,at bcsl,are but ,„rtic„la,-s fit to bo tu.-ned mto kno,,1edge; but that can be done only by our own med.tat.on and exa,nini„g the reach, force and Pichend a..d .,ee the connection of ideas, .,o far "it 'M)'2 i\()i\KiiT shiki.os. j ' » is ours ; witliout that, it is Imt so luQcli loose matter floating in our lu-ain. The memory may be stored, but the judgment is little better, and the stock of knowledge not increased by being able to repeat What others have said, or produce the arguments we have found in them. Such a knowledge as this is but a knowledge by hearsay j and the ostentation of It is at best but talking by rote, and very often upon weak and wrong principles. Foj- all that is to be found in books is not built upon true foundations* nor always rightly deduced from the principles it is pretended to be built on. Such an examen as is requisite to discover that, every reader's mind is not forward to make, especi- ally in those who have given themselves up to a party, and only hunt for what they can scrape toge- ther that may favour and support the tenets of it. Such men wilfully exclude themselves from truth and from all true benefit to be received by reading. Others, of more indifference, often want attention and industry. The mmd is backward in itself to be at the pains to trace every argument to its original, and to see upon which basis it stands, and how firm- ly ; but ,yet it is this that gives so much the advan- tage to one man more than another in reading. The mind should, by severe rules, be tied down to this at first uneasy task ; use and exercise will give it facility. So that those who are accustomed to it, readily, as it were \vith one cast of the eye, take t'S'SKi.tlSHSUSS. tm o.se matter be stored, e stock of to repeat uments wo as this is mtation of )ften upon .t is to be undations» siples it is !Over that, kc, especi- 5 up to a rape toge- lets of it. oin truth Y reading, attention bself to be 5 original, how firm- ie advan- ing. 1 down to will give lied to it, iyo, take .'' view of tl,„ argu,„c.,t, and pmsontly, in mmt htl"^."''"'"''-' '" '"'"""'^- '^'''°- -ho have ; h,.s faculty one ,„„y ,„y, ,,ave got ti.e true key t„ ooks and th„ clue to lea.1 them through the ,^i' " and ,h„wn the use of, that they might profit by pr^ThtT-t J''"" ^'"'•'"' «'™''=-- to' will be ap to think ,t too great a elog in the way of men's mall p,ogre.ss, ,f, ,n the book, they read, they n.u.t iollow .t, stop by step, up to its original. — LOCKR. comVl""'^' *•"""■ ""' "' ^"PP""^^ tl>»t couhl ever con,e by carmg very much about our own narrow pleasure.,. We can only have the highest happiness fuel, a.s goes along with being a great man, W hat'' .ngw.de thoughts, and much feding for theC f tl.e world as well as onrselves ; and this .sort of hap- pmess often bnngs .so much pain with it, that we can only t*ll it from pain by its being what we would choose before everything else, becau,sc our souls se^e it is good. There arc .so many thing, wrong and difficult in the world that no ma., can be gi-eat -he can hardly keep I,i„,.,elf f„„u wi..ke,l.,ess- no4 HOftfcRT ShiELbK. unless he gives up thinking much about pleasures or rewards and gets strength to endure what is hard and painful. —George Eliot. God in everythiwj. Oh, to what uses shall we put The wild-weed flower that simply blows ? And is there any mortal shut Within the bosom of the rose ? But any man that walks the mead, In bud or blade or bloom may find, According as his humoui-s lead,' A meaning suited to his mind. — Tennyson. Ambition. Although imitation is one of the great instruments used by Providence in bringing our nature towards perfection, yet if men gave themselves up to imita- tion entirely, and each followed the other, and so on, in an eternal circle, it is easy to see that there never could be any improvement amongst them. Men must remain as brutes do, the same at the end that' they are at this day, and that they were at the be ginning of the world. To prevent this, God has planted in man a sense AMBlTioV. no.' i a sense of aliibitiu.1. Hii,l u satistkctiun arising from the con- templation of his excelling Lis fellows in somothin-^ deemed valuable amon^^st then.. It is this passion that drives men to all the ways we see in use in «ignalizmg themelves, and that tends to make what- ever exeites an a man the idea of this distinction ^o very pleasant. It has been so strong, as to make very miserable men take comfort that thev were supreme in misery ; and certain it is that Where we cannot distinc^uish ourselves by some- thmcr excellent, we bejjin to take a complacency in •some singular infirmities, follies or defects of one kmd or another. It is on this principle that flattery IS «o prevalent; for flattery is no more than what jaises in a man's mind an idea of a preference which iie has not. Now, whatever, either on good or upon bad grounds, tends to raise a man in his own opinion, produces a sort of swelling and triumph that is ex- tremely grateful to the human mind; and this swel- ling is never more perceived, nor operates with more force than when, without danger, we are con- versant with terrible objects, the mind always claim- ing to Itself some part of the dignity and importance ot the things which it contemplates. Hence proceeds what Longmus has observed of that glorying and sense of inward greatness that always fills the reader ot such passages in poets and orators as are sublime ; It is what every ma.i must have felt in himself upon such occasions;. — Burke. OHAFT^m LI. OV AFKECTATIONS OF THE VICES AND FOLLtKS OF MK.V OF KMINRNCK. TT has frequently happened that men distingni.h- O^ e.,tH^i,„., that many a witling who nous a stanza wlule he .should hcc-n^rossinga rleeryden. or a Savage. This unfortunate conduct is owmg to a mistaken opinion, too generally adoptnd that vice is a mark of laudable spirit." and that spirit is the characteristic of genius. Prudence, caution, common sense are, in the idea of many the concomitants of dulness. The phlegmatic disposi- tion of a fool, .sa..' they, can guide him through life JU the straight road of prudence ; l>ut the volatility of genius IS continually tempted to turn out of the direct path to gather Howers on the sides, to view ^vevy pleasing prospect, and to discover new ways through unfrequented labyrinths. But it may be a reasonable question, whether this propensity to deviation be not a weakness, rather than a superior strength of mind , whether it be not sometimes the voluntary effect of pride and affectation ; and whether not oftener caused by a restlessness of con- stitution, than by a mere energetic activity, or an 'M)H UoMKllT smKf.DK, I. :;« I i urutur i.eivri)ti()n. Sen.sibility of iriinK RENDERING OLD AGE HONOURABLE AND COMFORTABLE. TT i,s a melancholy consideration that man, m he -L advances in life, degenerates in his nature, and gradually loses those tender feelings which constitute one of Ins highest excellences. The tear of sensi- bility, said Juvenal, is the most honourable charac- teristic of the human race. Whatever real pain may sometimes be occasioned by sensibility is, in general, counterbalanced by agreeable sensations, which are not the less sincere and soothing because they do not excite the joy of thoughtless merriment. The ang.iish of the sympa- thetic heart is keen ; but no less exalted are its gratifications. Notwithstanding all that has been said on the happiness of a stoical disposition, every one who has formed a true estimate of things will deprecate it as a curse that degi-ades his nature It IS the negative happiness of tlie dullest of quadru- peds, doomed to the vilest drudgery. ONOURABLE HONOURABLE AND COMFORTABLE OLD AGE. 311 Wretched, however, as is the state, when the heart ceases to feel the quick vibrations of love and piety, we are all hastening to it by that law of our nattn-e which obliges us, when arrived at a certain point of perft^ction, to recede with retrograde rapi- dity from all that gave us the power of pleasing or receiving pleasure. But if old age were attended only with the deprivation of amiable qualities, the lass of sensibility might often be esteemed a happi- ness to the individual, as it would prevent him from teeling one of the greatest of natural and undeserv- ed calamities. But the truth is, the absence of all that IS lovely is sometimes supplied by all that is odious ; as in the season of winter, the verdure and music of the forest are not only no more, but are succeeded by the howling of the blast, and the dreary prospect of nakedness and horror Old a^e though dead to many pleasing sensations, is still feelingly alive to bodily pain. Of these evils part IS derived from nature, and is inevitable, and part trom an erroneous conduct which may be regulated by reason and philosophy. When by age the body becomes debilitated, langour or pain must necessary y ensue. Bodily infirmities gradually impair the trength of the mind. Uneasy sensations, continued tor a long time, sour the native sweetness of the temper. And the peevishness, the nervousness, and 312 ROBERT SHIELDS. the severity which characterize the last stage of life, however disgustful, are to be palliated, and no more deserve to be censured as voluntary faults than the aching of thejoints. They are the natural result of mental pain, and follow from a wounded mind no less spontaneously or unavoidably than blood gushes from the incision of an artery." They disturb tranquillity, and poison convivial enjoy- nient; but they ought to be patiently borne with. If not from motives of humanity, yet from the con- sideration that the day is not far distant when we shall stand in need of the same indulgence. And we may hereafter experimentally know how cutting to the heart are the impatient reproaches of those who are bound by the ties of conjugal, filial and domestic duty, to soothe us under their pressure' of calamity, and, as the pious poet expresses it to rock the cradle of declining age. But experience proves that old age is not always attended with natural infirmity. Original strength of constitution, or habitual temperance, often pro- duces a green old age. In this case, the odious qualities usually attributed to that period are with- out excuse. Proportionate improvement should be the effect of long observation and experience. The vice of avarice, the characteristic distinction of the last stage of life, is then more than ever unreason- able. It is no less absurd, as it has often been said, than to provide a greater quantity of stores the "^s Hl)XOUIlAlll,K AKI) ((IMfdRTABLE OM) A(1K. 313 nearer the voyage approaehcs to its oonelusio,, It IS also the source of many other detestable die„o- «t.on8. It habituates the heart tK> suffer the sight of W03 without commiseration ; tecause pity promL to reheve and relief is attended with expense. Hardnea, of heart, like all its other tendencies, is ncreased by voluntary indulgence; and he who has long disregarded the happiness or ndsery of those who were a bed to him by the common lie of hu- mnity w.ll soon become unkind among his nearer Another quality which causes the old man to be avcded by those who are n.ost capable of affording him amusement, is an unreasonable austerity of orgetful that he once was young, he judges even the mnocent salhes of lively spirits and I warm heart by the severest dictates of rigid prudence fts judgment, however, he finds is little attended to' by those who are addressed on all sides by a more ^lurmg vo.ce. Ho becomes in.patient and querulous He condemns everything that is produced in the thTess r """' "^'^'V''"'-'"-- "'^diversions the dress, the manners, the learnin.^ the taste fh»t prevailed m the days of his youth, f„d iThi^h'^' sTw b^„ T-P'""'' '" *°'^ °f ">e present timi, .olely because h.s powers of pereeption were then more ),vely and acute: the ve,y re,.v.,„„ why th" 314 ROBERT SHIELDS. present appear with such irresistible charms in the eyes of his grandson. For the natural evils of old age, relief is to be sought from the physician rather than the moralist. But philosophy can assuage the pain which it cannot cure. It can suggest reflections, which operate like balsam on the wounds of the mind. It can teach us to bear those evils xyhich it cannot remove, and, by calling forth our powers of resistance, enable us to alleviate the load. All, however, are not capable of receiving the benefits of philosophy. Few, but those whose under- standings have been cultivated, and affections re- fined by liberal education, are able to understand or profit by the wise precepts of an Epictetus or a Cicero. Of still greater eflicacy than the philosophy of these, or any other writers, religion steps in to infuse an ingredient into the bitter cup of life, which never fails to sweeten it, and which is adapted to the taste of every human creature. Religion, indeed, is able of itself most effectually to dissipate the clouds, and to diffuse a sunshine on the evening of life. But to those who are conver- sant in literature, the celebrated treatise of Cicero ' On Old Age" may be collaterally recommended as affording solid consolation. Many moral treatises, however just and pleasing they may appear on t^e perusal, are of little use in the conduct of life, and termmate in speculative amusement. But the mmis in the hoS-OUH.VIU.K Am, OOMKOBTAW.H Ol.l, Mm. 314 tre»U,,„ "On 01,1 A«e" ,„e.,cribe., rule,, and surest, happy and consequently an object of .expect, should the Greek volun.es, by day and night. Nor can an gnorance of the Latin language be'pleaded": ZZ M^imo h''rr;;er:d'a^i T"' "^""''"''" ^' iiaB presened all the meanin«' «.Joy havettl / °^P'«™ "«'""'! ''"tthey S and r f.. '^"'*' •* '^' '"^ "f ™™W oXa!; »M • "*"' "nie requires neither extra- Mt°r„ottw '-w *''' ''PP<»'™iti«^ of learned he office f , !' "^ ''""^- ^" attendance upon at the same time that it fills up the vacant hou ■, of Z^TTJ"" "'*'^ 'hat cheerfulness which e, attends laudable employment, tends to inspire ideas spirHtirr';!:'""™"™' ^ "-oUona? taste or u buW f ""* *%'"°'* "™'y ™j'^y«>ent,. The religious fervour; by a gentle flame which is capable satisfaction., s.m.Iar in degree to those of more 1 1 ''-f 310 ItOhfcHT SHIELDS. ri:ii youthful i)as,sion,s, witliout their danget' ol' crimin- ality. Thus may the dignity of age be supported ; and upon its dignity greatly depends its happiness. It is that alone which can repel the insolence of youth, too often instigated by the levity of thought- less health, to forget the reverence which among the ancients was thought due to the hoary head. It is really lamentable to observe, in many families, tlie aged parent slighted and neglected, and, like an old- fashioned piece of furniture, or useless lumber, thrown aside with contempt. Such treatment is disgustingly unnatural ; but it is not easily to be avoided where there is no personal merit,— no authority derived from superior wisdom,— no good- ness of disposition to compensate the want of other attractive qualities. Tenderness and affection may be patient and assiduous ; but who would not rather command the attention of respect, than excite the aid of pity ? For the sake, how^ever, of domestic happiness, it should be remembered that the authori- tative air of wisdom must be tempered with a sweetness of manners ; and it will be found that the reverence which does not exclude love is always the most desirable. To preserve the sensibility of youth at an advanced period is difficult, because reason and philosophy, it is to be feared, can contribute little to its continu- ance. The loss of it is a natural consequence of decay. Much of the milk of human kindness, as it ""NOWIAHLB AN,, COM«„n'Al.,.K ..,.„ A„E. :tl7 i|. ofte,. called, How, from a Hue ,»„te.Ktu>^ of th„ nerves ; a context,,,, which i, b.oken, an,l a suhtity which ■« de,,t.-oyed, by 1™. duration. Excess how^ eve,-. prec,p,tates the efleets of time. Ten,p .Zo ...youth, together with the other ^Ivantagcsofthlt among the many arguments forea,ly wi,.fo„, Vl^ .nu., have great weight.-that wi»l, in ^ut ," usually followed by happiness i,. a.e ' ,1 ; T, ".°*'"» ""^ eontribute'uore u> p,„l„„„ a taste for it, .nnocent amusements. Wo often i~ 'Tr"'r^"'^ ''"'"' ^'-^ «'"°"- in yeai-8. We accustom ourselves to melancholv taM fo, enjoyment, renounce the innocent satilfac- tu-n which we might pa.1ake. Plcasu.able ilZ no less than painful, are caught by sympathv H.' Zm^Tv"" ,'^ '"•"^' "' y-ti.'^niTS, J; w.11 find h,m»elf .nvoluntarily inspired with gaie jT: 1.C will, fora wh,l., forget his ca,es; his wrinkles' W.1I he smoothed, and his heart dilated And though he w 11 not expe-ienee the effect of Mcdtt 1.13 mmd, n a great measure, restored to its former vigour and activity. The books we read inag^ wU " have a great infl,ience on the te^.p,,,, a. welfa, on ^wr. :™;tf"'^™•"''■•'"'»*''« AfteraL:::: p«.io.l, many of «s, irgm motives of mistaken pro. 318 ROBERT SHIELDS. Ji J. J. priety, close our books of entoitainment, and peruse nothino; but tlioso serious treatises, which, thougli proper at certain times, yet wlien perused without variety, induce a settled melancholy rather than a cheerful wisdom. Why should the imagination, that fertile source of all that is delightful, be left nncul- tivated at a time when pleasures become most defi- cient ? Why should the works of a Horace, a Virgil, a Homer, be entirely laid aside for the gloomy medi- tations of a Seneca and Antoninus ;• The judicious mixture of books addressed to the fancy with those which enlighten the understanding, would increase the effect of both, at the same time that it would contribute to health and happiness by affording lively pleasure. Horace wished that he might not spend his old age without his lyre. Music is, indeed, a sweet companion in every stage of life ; but to the last it is particularly adapted. It furnishes employ- ment without painful exertion, and while it charms the sense, soothes the heart to repose. After all, to religion we must recur for the best ornament of the heavy head, for the firmest support and sweetest consolation of dectiying nature. CHAPTER LIII. ON THE NECESSITY OF TEMPERANCE TO THE HEALTH OF THE MIND, rpUE advantages which arise from regulating the J- several aj.petites to the health of the body have been too repeatedly insisted upon to require ttll T\" *^"^P-^"««'n diet, and to the advantages wh,ch accrue from it to the health of the mind. wiliTh^ '^" j"*«"ectual faculties are connected with the animal economy, is a disquisition which ather belongs to the natural philosopher than to the moralist. The experience of every in.^:.iduai must convince h,m of their alliance, so far as that the mind and body sympathize in all the modifica- hTA^ ^^T"\"^P"^"- ^"^ ^ould imagine, that the Stoical apathy was founded on a notion of the independence of the mind on the body. Accord- ing to this philosophy, the mind may remain, as it were,an unconcerned spectator, while the body under- goes the most excruciating torments ; but the modems however disposed to the Stoics, cannot help being m 320 UOHEHT SHlKLDhi. 1 ll a little afflicted by a tit of the gout or stone. If the mind suffers with the body in the violence of pain and acuteness of disease, it is usually found to recover its wonted strength when the body is re- stored to health and vigour. But ihei-e is one kind of sympathy in which the mind continues to siriTer even after the body is relieved. When the listless languor and the nauseous satiety of recent excess is gradually worn off; the mind still continues for a while to feel a burden which no efforts can remove, and to be surrounded with a cloud which time only can dissipate. Didactic authors, who have under- taken to prescribe rules for the student in his pur- suit of knowledge, frequently insist on a regularity and abstinence in the articles of food and wine. It is, indeed, a fruitless labour to aim at increasing the stock of ideas, and improving the intellectual powei-s, without a strict observance of the laws of Temper- ance and Frugality. It has been remarked that the foundei-s of colleges, who spared no expense in the embellishment of the buildings, were not so liberal in providing the indulgences of the table. Perhaps those no less judicious than pious patrons of learning were sensible of the utility of frequent fasting and tenqierate meals, in promoting literary, as well as moral and religious improvement. Nature's' wants they took care to satisfy ; and nature, uncor- i-upted, wants but little. Horace, in a satire in which he professedly enu^ THE NECKSSITY OF TKMl'KRANCE. Hil mcmtes the advantages of teiupemnce, observes with a beautiful energy of expression. " that the' body, overeliarged with tlie excess of yesterday weighs down the mind togetlier wit}, itself, and fixes' to the earth that particle of the divine spirit" Thai. Aurora is a friend to the Muses is almost proverbial, ami, like all those aphorisms which are founded on experience, is a just remark ; but, if an adequate cause were to be assigned for this effect 1 know not whother it might not justly be attributed as much to fasting as to the refreshment of sleep. Ihe emptiness of the stomach it is which tends to Siye to the understanding acuteness ; to the imagin- ation, vigour; and to the memory, retention But temperance must not be suffered to become unhealthy abstemiousness ; for inanition is no less injurious to the mind and body than repletion. It IS well known that the principal meal of the ancients was the supper ; and it has been a matter of suipr ,0 that they, whose wisdom was so generally conspic- uous in the several institutions of common life, should adopt a practice which is now universally esteemed injurious to health. It is, however, not unreason- able to suppose, that they were unwilling to clog their intellects by satisfying the cravings of hunger in the day-time, the season of business and delibera- tion, and chose rather to indulge themselves in the hour of natural festivity, when no care remained but to retire froin the ban(|uet to the pillow {•\ li.1 ^ ' CHAPTER LIV. ON THE VANITY AND FOLLY OF DEPARTINQ FROM OLTIl PROPER SPHERE TO RKCOME AUTHORS AND ORATORS, WITHOUT PREVIOUS AND SUFFICIENT PREPARATION. IT has been observed, that tlie writer who tle- chiinis against vanity is probably, at the same time, under its infln«mce. He aims at glory by dis- claiming against it. There are, however, some species of vanity which, in comparison with others, are not only excusable, but almost laudable. The vanity of wishing to appear in print, when the ^ erson who en- tertainsit has been welleducated, and is free from the necessity of attention to any particular business for his support, fiequently operates as a stimulus to industry; and industry seldom fails of becoming, in some mode or other, beneficial. If he who is really a student by i)rofession feels an ambition to become an author, though he should fail through the defect of his abilitie.s, yet he cannot be said to have acted out of character ; neither does it often happen that the time and attention which he has given to his work is ruinous to himself or family ; "^, t'OLLV OF LEAVING OUR i'ltOPKK Sl'ilEHE. 3l>3 for study is Ins employment and he has boon labour- •"g in his vocation. Ho lias ir.nocently amused, and perhaps improvod himself, though unable to com- municate with success cither improvement or amusement to others. His vanity may be pardon- admiitd"^ ' ""^ '* '^""^^ ''" P''^^««^ ^'' -in But it is common in this ag(. to find traders, and even manufacturers of a very subordinate rank HO fasei,iateusmess fav beneath him, and for which he is totally unfit. Ac IS too delicate for hard or disagreeable labour, and too volatile for the phlegmatic employ- ment of a counter or a counting-house. But it is a certain truth, that we seldom succeed in the mode ot life which we oneficial effect in .saving himself fron. ridicule, or his family from starving. A mercantile or mechanical author, swelled with tancied importance, and neglecting his business in pursuit of literary fame, would furnish no bad topic for heatncal derision. Indeed, any effectual me- thod of exploding a folly which is so pregnant with misery in private life, is greatly desirable ; and no treatment can be so effectual in suppressing what ongmates m vanity, as that which mortifies it most, — contempt and ridicule. But this literary madness displays itself in various symptoms. If it produces many writers, I believe It produces more orators. They who cannot write, or, at least, cannot .pell, are more inclined to let their genius evaporate by the volubility of the tongue than of the pen ; by which method their de- lects m the science of orthography are concealed in elegance and pathos of elocution. If they can read they derive political arguments from newspaper essays and religious from Bolingbroke. Tindal, and the rest of that low and contemptible set of writers. It they cannot read, they succeed better still; for then the arguments must necessarily proceed from immediate inspiration. Now, I wish I could prevail on those redoubtable rhetoricians to be hearers as well as speakei^, and to listen to a very powerful- and pathetic «ppnip« of 326 KOBERT SHIELDS. oratoiy— the cries and distiess of a family at home, reduced to a state of starving, while the orator, in- stead of mending soles and heel-pieces, or vending small-wares, is disgorging nonsense on an audience of fools, who must be more foolish than himself if they are able to listen to him with patience. To all writers and orators who might be much more usefully and honourably employed at the anvil or the loom, in the shop or the counting-house, I will recommend the consideration of how many re- quisites are necessary to form a distinguished writer and a good orator. No man can communicate what is valuable to others, unless he has himself previ- ously accumulated a plentiful store. A liberal edu- cation and much reading and reflection, super- added to a competent share of natural ability, can alone enable a writer to produce what may deserve the attention of a polished age. More leisure than can fall to the lot of those who live hy mercantile or manual industry is necessary to attain an eminence in literature. And, with respect to the oratory which some of the lower orders are so fond of affect- ing, it is usually a habit of vain and noisy babbling, little dissimilar to the ravings of madness, and not unfrequently leading to it. I have myself seen the dreadful effects of enthusiasm. Many an honest tailor or shoemaker has turned preacher, and hur- ried himself and some of his hearers into absolute lunacy. And even thafkind of speechifying which tPS VOLhY Oh' LEA VINO OUR PROPEH SPHEUK. 327 some pe,.ons in the mercantile walks of life are so tenlfn '^r ^" '^"^' and committees, often emC • ^f ' .«elf-conceit which sometimes w.ong direction. T am well assured that a mis- pacedattenti. . ,o letters, and a foolish vanity In scribbling m .papers and periodical repositories have contributed greatly to increase tjie number of advertisements m the London Gazette. Nothinc. can be more laudable than that merchants, tradersrand reading books adapted to their various tastes, abilities, and previous improvements. But thev must be cautious lest the charms of literary pur- suits operate upon them in such a mannei as to bnng on that fatal distemper the scribblino- itch or ZuZl' r'"^- '''^ manuscripts which they should delight in composing should be day-books ledgers, bills and letters to correspondents ; and their' ctlr tr^' ^'^^'^ ^^ '^'^'^y^' bkind th counter. The more of these the better; but when anthnietical figures give place to rhymes, and post- ing to prosing, then it is time to beware of a com- mission of bankruptcy. The evil which I endeavour to remove is really a serious one. The poor scribbler or prater may be a very honest and good man ; but his weakness, in this respect, will probably Involve him in miseries »l 328 notlERT SIIIELIJH. which weaknc s alone cannot deserve. Hi« ill-suc- cess as an author, followed, as it will be, by slights, ridicule and censure, must be to him a perpetual source of vexation. Thus his favourite pursuit terminates in disappointment, and his necessary pursuit, his trade or employment, on which he de- pends for bread, fails to supply his wants because it is neglected. It is; one of the best ornaments, as well as the surest means of success and happiness, in all the branches of the mercantile life, to be steady in an attention to what is called the main chance. Letters may form the amusement of the trader, but not his business. Letters, however, will soon be the business of his life if he devote himself to composition and learns to pant for literary fame. Letters, pursued within proper limits, will give his mind an elegance, and prevent it from being con- tracted by a constant attention to lucre ; but culti- vated with the ardour and constancy of a professed student, or author, or orator, they seldom fail of bringing on a complication of distress, to which their satisfaction cannot be a counterpoise. It would not be a bad rule if merchants, shopkeepers, and manufacturers who feel an inclination to poetry and other literary amusements, were always to make a point of providing for their wives and daughtei-s before they think of devoting themselves entirely to those fantastic and extravagant mistresses, Thalia, Melpomene and their seven sisters. CHAPTER LV. ON rOKMIXa CONNEXIONS WITHOUT FRIENDSHIP. V-y 8| lilt or the grea;^ philosopher and orator of Rome, who, in his fine treatise " On FriendslX " hf serted that it owes its origin to a conviction „f mutual oxcellenco in morals and disp ™' ^f pmctrces of Cr- '' T'* """ P'^-Pt^a-d the sent T f "^"^ ""'' l""-'i™'''>lv of the p,^- Zl' J*- " ""* T °' "■' ^'^t admonitions given .trTerus:::;^-::.:"'^ the ro-i -'--.-• .'"'^'^«»' and advancement in ro„„ „. „v»„ee and ambition. Let a poor :..an ':f; 330 ROBERT SHIELDS. of approved character, learning and genius, and a rich man of fashion, with no pretensions to either, be introduced to a sensible and prudent youth, initiated in what is called the knowledge of the world, and you will see that, while the ricli man is viewed with submission, complacence, and treated with almost idolatrous attention, the poor man stands by un- noticed and probably despised. On the slight ac- quaintance of a firet introduction, the young profi- cient in w^orldly wisdom will not fail to call at the rich man's house, and leave a card with most res- pectful compliments ; he would not come into the neighbourhood without paying that respect on any account whatever. He is not half so scrupulous about going to church, and paying his court to his Maker ; but at the very time that he is, bowing at the threshold of the rich man, the philosopher shall pass by, and because he possesses only a competency without superfluity,' and without influence, he shall not be honoured with the common civility of a salu- tation. For it is a maxim with mere worldly minds, that, as it is an honour to know and be known by persons of fortune and title, so it is a disgrace to acknowledge the slightest intimacy with those who have nothing to recommend them but honour, spirit, learning and virtue. The formation of connexions is considered as so important, that it becomes, in effect, the principal object in the mean Chester- iieldian .system of education. The boy's parents who enius, and a to either, be nth, initiated 3 world, and viewed with with almost mds by un- he slight ae- young profi- call at the h most res- me into the pect on any scrupulous lourt to his bowing at iopher shall competency ice, he shall ;y of a salu- Idly minds, known by disgrace to those who lour, spirit, connexions ecomes, in n Chester- arents who th. °" T *■""'"'« '<>«'•""« an• "-'"-'eel. J- and the body ,„ health. It is one of the chief .ux.ha„e.s to mdependence and fortune, and the t. ue guule t« oM age. Kon em, era,,^m est vectiaj cannot I« U>„ often rer^ated to the j-oung andTn- expeneneed. 8ome a„. e„„li„„ally «,Sande.in. away l.en- n.oney for what they do not want without fnendship, ab«>,b more than would be «,f. heient to en,oy every rational delight, and at the same tune to allow benefieenee t-f the poor To husband well a small ineome i» the best p,™f „? good .sense good morals, and attention to duty A man who ha« but little, and yet makes that'^^ittie do, can neither be a drunkard nor a gambler nor fond of .ndu g,„g in vicious or expensive pleas'ure, I hke society, but I detest compa„y"_saW a cet' ^hanite of Bociety, „„d an iini-e.erved intercourae 334 HOBEUT SHIELDS. ii; .:« with those whom we can love (,r ewteem, life is a melancholy blank. ; but a confused mixture of people, or company, as it is generally call.d, who have no common tie of union, no joint interest or pleasure in their association, presents to a wise man more to disgust than to charm. Be cautious in forming friendships, but when once you have fixed with pru- dence, let not the tongue of malevolence or of »uile separate you from such as are worthy of esteem. The more intimate you are with any person, the more likely it is that you should be well acquainted with all his virtues and all his weaknes-ses. How absurd, then, to be influenced in your opinion by those who, perhaps, .scarcely know him ! Next to moral goodness, study the happy art of making yourself agreeable to others, by affability and pleasing manners. They who neglect paying that complaisance which they owe to othei-s, will be .sure to be neglected in their turn. Civility, in the first instance, is like putting out so much principal, which will duly be repaid with interest. 1 here are persons of such an unamiable temper, so totally divested of all that can do honour to hu- inanity, that it is no more possible to love them than to cherish a rattlesnake ; yet they never fail to resent the slightest appearance of indifference, though their conduct might even justify aversion,' It might be supposed no one would be proud of such an ijnjovely di.sposition~their own curse and that MORAL MAXIMS TO BE OBSKRVED. 335 of all their connexions ; but the.-e h a pride in base- ness, as well as a pride in worth. There is a mani- test distinction between good nature and r/oo.l hu- mour. though they are frequently confounded The one 18 born with us. the other is the effect of educa- tion or reflection, and may be acquired. Good nature frequently .savours of folly; but good humour is tounded on principle, and will always be consistent Aim at perfection yourself, but expect not to find It in others; and let no slight defects or casual mis- understandings estrange you from your relatives and friends. Be good, be virtuous for your own sake, without depending too much on any temporal recompense An equal retribution, according to our deserts be- longs to another state, and is only to he found' be- yond the grave. In every thing regard the ond. Before passion has gained an ascendency, bring its suggestions to the test of reason. Let no fleeting plea^sure reduce you into imprudence ; no temporary good lead you from a permanent one, nor any dif- ficulty deter you, when convinced that it is your duty to persevere. CHAPTER LVII. MAXr-MS AND PRACTICES OF THE WORLD—TO HE SHUNNED. T KT the aumssing of money be your only study • -l-J and to this sacrifice the feelings of the heart the' ties of nature, and the laws of honour. Never notice a poor person, whatever merit he may possess • nor neglect to show respect to a rich one, though he' may have as many vices as the hairs of his head. When you see a worthy man run down, take a pelt at hnn with the rest, instead of defending or protecting him. If he is unfortunate, he cannot turn again ; and it will show you possess spirit as well as your neighbours. If you know a secret, keep it till It will answer your purpose to divulge it, and no longer. Every thing should be turned to interest • and honour and friendship are merely names. If you suspect any of your friends of foibles accuse them loudly of crimes ; for it is the modern way of reformation. Think and speak as ill as possible of every one save yourself; and if they are MAXIMH OF ll.K womu T,. BK SHUNNKI. 337 al^eeal^^rt! '""■'■ '"■ '"-=»"*«"'«>'' and .lis- you neve, break P„.e,«n« head, „„d tbo other half "■ i sp.te you for your superior knowledge. ZviUo./. ™^"'v.'" '"--'y""; -l it .how, spirit to act as you think proper youi-self. it « better to b..g your bread than to submit in the ab Iity to advise you. Obstinacy is a gloriou - cliai^^er. When you „uHer for it, tlink yoCTa Believe those only who flatter you, and study to no to ""S- T' 'T' ''^ of'^n-'di-greeable monitoi. He will mit favour your prejudices nor VoTir "''^", T "'-^ '"J--« youS x you have an undoubted right to do Make youi.elf as odious as you can to those who L ^r ^ '■"""'"" • ""'' y" "'" '^""ne love< , ■n proportion as you deserve to be hated If yon know any more respecte,! than yourself. ih 338 ROBERT SHIELDS. never try to imitate the good qualities which gain them good-will and esteem ; but exert yourself to blacken their reputation, and to make them appear as unamiable as yourself. If you cannot have every- thing just to your wish, even if you should not de- serve the comforts you may command, be quit'^ miserable ; and throw the blame on your friends and connexions, not on your own temper and conduct. Let your own reason be the standard of right, and alone direct you what to do, or to leave undone. Who should know better than yourself what is prudent and expedient ? Besides, when you please yourself, you have no one to blame, whatever may happen— a consolaticm of the highest importance to secure. Be reserved to your friends, and confidential only with your enemies. Make a mystery of every thing to fret and torment those who wish you well ; and if you can make one feeling and honest heart un- happy, think you have not lived or acted in vain. By following these maxims and practices, you have the glory of being devested by every good and virtuous mind ; and peihaps the notoriety of infamy is dearer in your estimation, than the silent con- sciousness of c sert ! CHAPTER LVIII. ON FORMIKO A TASTE FOR SIMPLE PLEASURES. rnO argue against pleasure in general is absurd. J- It IS the law of nature that every animal should prefer the ag.^eable sensations to^he Z explode those pleasures which, though they are transjen and u„satisfacto,y in themselyes, ai^ yet found ulfmately to occasion permanent pain and .eal injury. Perhaps the most effectual mode of ae comph.,h.ng this purpose is, not to arraign pclre m genera but to substitute other pleasures tte place of those which are hiutful. Man must C amused and delighted ; and pernicious am„rme„^ rbeTbvr'"*'"''^ ^""'°''"'™«' ''""■— It is certain that nature has interspei-sed a great t f J^!"- ''*"*''"• ""•""'•'= P*'"."-' «ven with ionaU^ ^'" 'r'""^ i.«Fovement and add" fonal pleasnr,. by reHeoting on the past onjoy,„ent f^**^"-«ll»l(. • r if ' Bi ^f '^f mw ■'' « In li f 'i I. f ..Jff ll]:1 i 340 ROBERT SHIELDS. Such, indeed, are those innocent pleasures which we toilow m early youth with cheerful ardour, and which we enjoy with sincere delight, before we are vitiated and hardened by a long intercourse with a depraved world; before the qualities of the lamb and dove are exchanged for the less amiable wisdom of the wolf and the serpent. Amidst all the in^provements which we make in a state of high civilization, we lose some natuml tastes and propensities which were favourable to virtue. We acquire wants and notions which dis- turb our repose, and cause a feverish anxiety, ever thirsting, and never satisfied. The simple and inno- cent satisfactions of nature are usually within our reach ; and, as they excite no violent perturbation m the pursuit, so are they enjoyed without tunmlt, and relmquished without long or painful regret. It will, then, render es.sential service both to happi- ness and morality, if we can persuade men in gene- ral to taste and to contract an habitual relish fo- the genuine satisfaction of uncorrupted nature. One of the first affections which the heart perceives IS filial piety. As years increase, this affection di- lates, and extends itself to brothers and sisters relatives and domestics. The child loves and is beloved by all around him. Amidst the conversa- tion, the events, the endearments and tender duties of a family, he finds full play for all his faculties and propensities, and is often, by his own subsequent A tASTH hiK siMI'I.K I'l.KAStlKKS. 34j eo„«o„, happier „t this early a, tl,a„ i„ »„,, period wind) succeeds it. the happmcs ,„ domestic life, and in the exercise oftherndd vntues of family otKces. their enioy.nents But on the contrary, we see them no sooner ar- Ind wlnT'""'^'' ";™ "'"^ -gerly leave the net , aiy bhss, through all the „ilds of dissipation In he prec,p.t«te pursuit, innocence is otteS last : and added to sohd happ,ne.,s. Our intent, as we falsely call It and our honour, become the idols whom we 1 oal h, truth, peace a„d liberty. We are. inrieed so deeply eng^,ed inour object.,, that we cannotl^ve^ adulterated pleasure. The young mind is always dehghted w,th rural scenery. The earliest poet^ was pastoral, and every juvenile poet of the pre ,ent day dehghts to indulge in the lu.;„riance of a u™ dcscnpfon, A taste for these pleasures will render U>e mormng walk at least as delightful as the even- Dg assembly. The various forms which nature as- sumes m the vjcssitudes of the seasons, constitute a somce of complacency which can never be exhausted H'2 kr>bEltT SHIELDS. PfF ■■■?l How grateful to ihe senses the freshness of the herb- age, the fragrancy of the flowers, and all those simple delights of the field, which the poets have trow the earliest age, no less justly than exuberantly described ! "^ "It is all mere Action," exclaims J- ..-an of the world-" the painting of a visionai^y enthusiast/' He feels not, he cannot fed, their truth. He sees no charms m herbs and blossoms ; the melody of the grove IS no music to his ear ; and this happens, be- cause he has lost, by his own fault those tender sen- sibilities which nature had bestowed. They are still daily perceived in all their perfection by the ingenuous and innocent, and they have been most truly described by feeling j,oets, as contributing to pure, real, and exalted delight. Yet the possessor of extensive lands, if he is a man of fashion and spirit, forsakes the sweet scenes of rural nature, and shuts himself up in a coffee-house at a gaming-table, in a fetid assembly; and leaves that liberal air whiclr breathes over his lawns, and agitates his forests, to be inhaled by his menial rus- tics. He perverts the designs of nature, and des- pises the hereditary blessings of Providence ; and he receives the adequate punishment in a restless life, perpetually seeking and never finding satisfac- tion But the employments of agiiculture, indepen- dently of their profit, are most congenial and pleas- ing to human nature. An uncon-upted mind sees A "ASTK FOR SlMl^hE I'LilASlfRKM, 34?^ m the progress of veyeUtion, and in the manners and excellences of these animals which are destined to our immediate service, such charms and beauties as art can seldom produce. Husbandry may be su- perintended by an elegant mind ; nor is it by any mean, necessary that they who engage in it should contract a coarseness of manners or a vulgarity of sentiment. It is most favourable to health, to plenty t \T'"{ """f to innocence ; and great, indeed, must be the objects which justify a reasonable creature in rehnquishing these. Are plays, and balls, and nocturnal assemblies of whatever denomination; are debaucheries in all their modifications which tend to rob us of sleep, to lessen our patrimony, to injure our health, to render us selfish, vicious, thoughtless, and useless, equivalent to these ? Rea- son i^ephes in the negative ; yet the almost uni- versal departure from innocence and simplicity will W the affirmative established by a corrupt ma- It is not without a sigh that a thinking man can pa^s by a lordly mansion, some sweet retreat, deserted by its falsely-refined possessor, who is stupidly carousing in the taverns of a polluted city. When he sees the chimney without smoke in the venerable house, where all the country was once welcomed to partake of princely hospitality, he can- not help lamenting that progress of refinement, which, m rendering the descendants of the great I 344 ttOBfeRt SfllELhS. i! m }■ f r; Hiie geutleinen, has left them something' less than men, through the defect of manlv virtues The superintendence of a garden might of itself •occupy a life elegantly and pleaaurably. Nothing is better able ■ u .fraXify the inherent love of novelty, for Nature is aUvjiys renewing her variegated' appearance. S'w :h infinite in her productions, and the life of fnan ,!aay come to its close before he has seen half the pictures which she is able to display . The taste for gardening in our country is at present pure. Nature is restored to her throne, and reigns majestically beautiful in rude magnificence. The country abounds with cultivated tracts truly para- disiacal. But as the contemplative observer roams over the lawn, and enjoys the shade of the weeping willow, he is often led to inquire, " Where is now the owner of this wilderness of sweets ? Happy man ! " he exclaims, "to possess such a spot as this, and to be able at all times to taste the pleasure which I feel springing in my bosom." But, alas ! the owner IS engaged in other scenes. He is rattling over the streets of the metropolis, and pursuing all the sophisticated joys which succeed to supply the place where Nature is relinquished. If he condescends to pay an annual visit to the retreat, he brings with him all his acquired inclinations; and while he siU at the card-table oi ^ the banquet, and thu .- - httle else than pror ng his interest at th: f.^i A TASTE FOR SX.MPLE PIEASUREC. 343 rose to diffuse its sweets in unobserved solitude Can It be believed that Natui-e bestowed beauty on the foliage of a flower but with a view I P ease ! The fruit might be produeed, in the san e No other animals are sensible of their grace but the human ; and yet the austei^ man of business, or a flTlf """ °f P'^^j"*- ^"' "^ig" another w th H^.n ™P°;'««««> for his admimtion of a flower. He calls the t*ste trifling and useless. But is not a refusal to be pleased with such appearances, like the malignant unthankfulness of a sullen guest who r fuses to ta^te the most delicious dainties^repaj tor his entertainment ? Fine weather is the source of a very sensible pleasure; but he who is engrossed by vL o" by business, will hve half a life without admiring the beauties of a blue sky. basking in the vernal sun- shine, or mhalmg. with any consciousness of delight the balsam of a western gale. A fondness for the pleading animals which Nature has placed around us, is another source of natural and pure, and innocent amusement. The plumage and songof the bird were, doubtless, intended i dehgh he ear and the eye. Who can behold the playful lamb without complacency ? The fidelity w I 340 ROBEKT SHIELDS. of tlie dog, tlie generosity of the horse, and the characteristic qualities, as well as shape and beauty, of all animated nature, are admirably adapted to charm the heart which is yet unspoiled. But in a proper intercourse and behaviour among our fellow-creatures is found to consist our principal and most constant delight. To do good, and to pre- vent evil, as far as the sphere of our influence or activity extends, is an infallible method of deriving to ourselves pleasurable emotions. And if we con- sult what passes in our bosoms before our youthful sensibilities are blanked, we shall find that nature has taught us to feel the sweetest pleasure in reliev- mg distress, and in communicating happiness. The cunning and the crafty, of whom consists a great part of the busy crowd, who derive an un- natural influence from the possession of riches, will deem the simplicity which I have recommended, folly. Such men will deem truth also folly. They consider virtue and truth as words invented to delude the simple ones; but, indeed, to retain through life .something of the simplicity of the in- fant, will render the improved and cultivated man truly wise. For, after all the refinements of false philosophy, and the lower arts of worldly cunning, honesty is owr truest interest, and innocence our best wisdoni. I }, and the id beauty, idapted to 3ur among; • principal nd to pre- flueuce or f deriving f we con- youthful lat nature in reliev- less. consists a i^e an un- iches, will nmended, y. They rented to to retain of the in- ated man i of false cunning, e our best CHAPTER LIX. A CULTIVATED MIND XECESSAHY TO KENDEH RETIRE- MENT AGREEABLE. Tj^EW ,ue able to bear solitude ; and, though -1- retn-ernent is the ostensible object of thegreater pait, yet when they are enabled by success to retire they feel themselves unhappy. Pecidiar powei-s and elegance of mmd are necessary to enable us to draw al our resources from ourselves. In a remote and solitary village the mind must be internally active in a great degree, or it will be miserable for want of employnient. But in great and populous cities even whi e it is passive, it will be constantly amused^ It is impossible to walk the streets with- out findmg the attention powerfully solicited on every side. Exertion is scarcely necessary. Obiects pour hemselves irt., the senses, and it would be difficult to prevent , ^eir admittance. But, in re- tirement there must be a spirit of philosophy and a store of learning, or else the fancied scenes of bliss will vanish hke the colours of the rainbow. Poor 348 ROBERT SHIELDS Cowley might be said to be melancholy mad. He languishoi for solitude, and wished to hide himself in the mMh of Africa. But, alas ! he was not able to supjiort the solitude of a country village within a fev miles of the metropolis ! I lat'^ly paid a visit to a friend who has with- drawn from the hurry of business to enjoy the sweets of a rural retirement in the country. His house is situated on an eminence .vhich commands a beautiful prospect. At the bottom of the garden, which is laid out in a taste peculiar to himself, yet entirely conformable to nature, runs a small river, remarkable for the smoothness of its surface and the clearness of its water ; but. though the house is perfectly agreeable in situation, some have thought that the freshness of the air, tli beauty of the scenery, and the s. nee <:' retirt.aent, can by no means compensate the want of a neighbourhood ; for, to say the truth, fho-e is not a single house to be seen within a mile of the little solitary villa, ex- cept one poor cottage inhabited by the srdener. Though I was at first, like the rest, much dis- posed to disapprove the solitud ' nr friend's habi- tation, yet when I hatl resid< wi him a little while, and had enjoyed the cali^i and rational pleas- rre of philosophic ease, I became enthusiastically fond of sequestered life. It must, indeed, Ije con- fessed, that Hilario possesses some peculiar qualities which seem calculated to render solitude agreeable. A CULTIVATED MIND NECtlSSAllY tU likTIKEMENT. 34ft He has a natural sweetness of temper, a refined taste leJiHh for tho common diver«io> s of the country. But, though he spends the greater part of his leisure nou-^ m the alternate amusements of his Ixjoks, his harp8ich(,rd. his dogs, and his horses, yet he is never so happy as i„ the enjoyment of the conversation of a fnend whose manners and sentiments are con- g.".ml With his own. It must not be forgotten that he^' nves much of his pleasure from a knowledge ot buoany and natural philosor.hy, which he acquired ^n tho ,mer part of his life. His acquaintance with taese sc nces enables him to make great im- provements he cultivation of his garden, where almost every plan* which is cunous. useful, or beautiful ,s brought to its highest perfection ./k";-! '.P^'^^'P"' ^'^ «»PJ>««ed, from the seclusion ot h,s hfe, that he is utterly unacquainted with the living world. He t.kes care, however, to inform himself of the topics of the day, l,y attending to peri- odical publications of repute and authenticHy ; and ne 18 allowed to make most pertinent observations on the taste, manners, and politics of the present times. His remarks have always this peculiar ex- cedence. derived, perhaps, from his distance from par ties, that they savour of that 1 .eral spirit which marks the true gentleman, and the citizen of the worid. The great evil of s.>litude is, that imson becomes weak for want of exercise, while the pnw.v« i.t will suffer a kind of shipwreck ; it will be dashed on rocks, or sunk in whirlpools. What, indeed, is life or its enjoyments, without settled pnnciple.s, laudable purposes, mental exertions, and internal comfort ? It is merely a vapour, a state ot torment, smce it possesses a restless power of action productive of little else but weariness and vexation. I very seriously recommend, therefore, to all who wish to enjoy their existence (and who entertains not U:^ wish ?) that they should acquire not only a power of bearing, but of taking a pleasure in, tem- porary solitude. Every one must, indeed, sometimes be alone. Let him not repine when he is alone, but learn to set a value on the golden moments. It is then that he is enabled to study himself and the world around him. It is then that he has an oppor- tunity of seeing things as they arf, and of removing the deceitful veil which almost everything assumes m the busy scene of worldly employments. The soul m solitude is enabled to retire into herself, and to exert those energies which are always attended with sublime pleasure. She is enabled to see the de]>endent, frail, and wretched state of man, as the 'Jl U4 RoiJtRt SHiiJLbS. child of nature ; and, incited by her discovery, to implore grace and protection from the Lord of the umvei-se. They, indeed, who constantly fly from •sohtude, can seldom be religious ; for religion re- quires meditation. They may be said to live with- out God ,n the world ; not, it is true, from atheistical principles, but from a carelessness of disposition ; a truly deplorable »^te, the consciousness of whicli could not fail to cloud the gaiety of those halcyon beings who sport in tiie sunshine of what they deem unremitted pleasure. *i ^ ?u^' ^ ^i'"'^'''' '""''''^ ^'"^^ ^^^^ l^v« «f pleasure, the follies of fo„shion, and the extravagances of dissi- pation, are greater enemies to religion than all the ^vriters who have endeavoured to attract notice by questioning the truth of Christianity. Many, it i*s to be feared, have lived and died in the regions of gaiety, without ever having felt a sense of religion ±;rayers, .sermons, churches, the clergy, and the Irospel-the external instruments of piety, were things which never struck them, and from which they received no more impression than a blind man tromtlie exhibition of a pageant. To feel the fine sensibilities of devotion, it is necessary to commune with our own hearts upon our beds, and to be still. If we had but courage to withdraw ourselves from the world, we should often find in our study, and on our knees, such plea.sures as the world cannot give. i l:X(!KS,sl\fl.; I,<)VK OF COMl'ANV 0-> icoveiy, to iord of the J fly from cligion re- live with-^ atheistical )osition ; a of which ;e halcyon they deem '■ pleasure, is of dissi- m all the notice by lany, it is regions of P religion, and the ety, were )m which lind man I the fine commune o be still. ves from udy, and d cannot 1 may also add, that few will be found to display prudence or consistency of conduct who do nJt sometimes stej, asii,l nature bring forth the tulip and the lily, the rose and the honeysuckle, to be neglected by the haughty pretender to superior reason ^ To omit a si'nolo social duty foi- the cultivation of a polyanthus, were ridiculous as well as criminal ; but to pass by the beauties lavished before us without observing them IS no ess ingratitude than stupidity. A bad heart tmds little amusement but in a communication with the ambitious world, where scope is given for the indulgence of selfish passions ; but an amiable dis- position IS commonly known by a taste for the beau- ties of the animal and vegetable creation. The northern countries of Europe are by no means well adapted to the true enjoyment of rural scenery- Our vei-nal seasons, which the poets celebrate in ail the luxuriousness of description, are commonly rendered cold and uncomfortable by the long con- tinuance of an easterly wind. Our poets borrowed then- Ideas of a spring from the poets of Italy who collected theirs from nature in their climate' A genial day in April is among us the subject of general congratulation. And while the lilac blossoms and the laburnum drops its golden clusters, the' Hhivering possessor of them is constrained to seek warmth at the side of his chimney. Yet from the Vi'A I 360 HOBEHT SHIELDS. temperature of our climate we derive a beauty un- known in the gardens of a warmer country. Few objects are more pleasing than the smooth lawn; but the soft verdure which constitutes its beauty is not to be found in more southern climates. It is cer- tainly true, that the rarity of our truly vernal wea- ther, like that of other delights, increases the plea- sure of it ; and it is probable, for this reason, that an Englishman, notwithstanding his complaints against his atmosphere, enjoys the pleasures of his garden in their full perfection. A fine day, says Sir William Temple, is a kind of sensual pleasure ; but surely it would cease to be such if every day were fine. A practical attention to a garden is by some es- teemed a degrading employment. It is true, indeed, that pastoral and agricultural manners, if we may form a judgment from the dignified descriptions of Virgil, are gi-eatly degenerated. The employments of shepherds and husbandmen are now become mean and sordid. The work of the garden is usually left to a peasant. Nor is it unreasonable to assign the labour which wearies without amiLsement to those who are sufliciently amused by the prospect of their wages. But the operations of grafting, or inoculating, of pruning, of transplanting, are curious experiments in natural philosophy ; and that they are pleasing as well as curious, those can testify who remember what they felt on seeing their attempts in the amusement of practical gardening attended with success. :■»,. beauty un- itry. Few )oth lawn; 5 beauty is i. It is cer- ernal wea- H the plea- sason, that cumplaiutK ures of his y, says Sir isure ; but r were fine. y some es- ue, indeed, if we may iptions of ployments ome mean sually left assign the b to those et of their oculating, periments leasing as iber what nusement iS. THE PLEASUKES OF A GARDEN. 361 Among the employments suitable to old age, Cicero has enumerated the superintendence of a garden It requires no great exertion of mind or body ; and its satisfactions are of that kind which please without violent agitation. Its beneficial influence on health i« an additional reason for an attention to it at an age when infirmities abound. In almost every de- scnption of the seats of the blessed, ideas of a gar- den seem to have predominated. The word Para- aise Itself is synonymous M^th garden. The fields w th all that imagination can conceive to be delight- tul. Some of the most pleasing passages of Milton are those in which he represents the happy pair en- gaged in cultivating their blissful abode, the garden of Men. Poets have always been delighted with the beauties of a garden. Lucan is represented by J u vena as reposing in his garden. Virgil's Georgics though, to the surprise of his readers, he has not as ' « gned a book to the subject of a garden. Our Shen- stone made it his study; but, with all his taste and happy in it. The captivating scenes which he created TJeirT" '^'1'^ ^^"' ^' '' '^''^' li"^« plea- ade the embellishment of his grounds, which should f ave been the amusement of his life, the hnn.^ ss of It; and involved himself in such troubles b- tueex- X li'' m 362 ROBERT SHIELDS. (nr« penses it occasioned, as necessarily excluded the tranquil enjoyment of a scene which nature and art had combined to render de]i ;wure from observing the progress of vegetatiuj), even in a i)lantation of culinary plants. A ver;y limited tract, properly attended to, will furnish ample employment for an individual. Nor let it be thought a mean care; for the same hand that raised the cedar formed the hyssop on the wall. Even the orchard, cultivated solely for ad- vantage, exhibits beauties unequalled in the shrub- bery ; nor can the green-house produce an appear- ance to exceed the blossom of the apple and the almond. Amusement reigns, says Dr. Young, man's great demand. Happy were it, if the amusement of a gar- den were more generally relished. It would surely be more conducive to health, and the preservation of our faculties to extreme old age, were that time which is now devoted to the dice and to the card- table, spent in the open air, and in active employ- ment, amidst the beauties of cultivated nature. CHAPTER LXII. THE PI.EASLIKES OF BEFLECIION, rpHAT the enjoymcnto of the undorstamling esse,! by a 1 who are capable of exerting the faeuj- ^es of th„,k.„g i,. their fuli vigou,-. B^t by Ze pleasure., are generally u„de,.toocl sublin.e co„te,„! P ations on subjects of science and abstruse disoul ».t.on ; contemplation which can only be the Zlt of uncommon powe,-s and extraordinary efforts But here are .ntellectual pleasures of another kind to he enjoyment of which neither g,.eat abilities nor leammg are required These are no other than Z pleasures of reflection, which are open to the illite f nfon";rn lir "'"^ "' ''" ™'"''^' ■'''"^^- There are few who have not felt pleasin.. sensa- ::s;T«th^^l;;rx''^r7---- lives. lo recollect the puerile amusements the petty anxieties, and the eager pur- suits ot chJdhood, i.s a task ia which all dclfght It IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) h /. 1^ 1.0 1.25 uyi 12.5 |£o "^ IMISS us Ui|2£ 6" 1.8 U 11.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4S03 \ ^V V '^ <> 6^ ? .A^. v\^< ^ t/. Is r 364 ROiJERf SHIELDS. is common to observe, that on no subject do meri dwell with such pleasure as the boyish tricks and wanton pranks which they practised at school. The hoary head looks back with a smile of complacency, mixed with regret, on the season when health glowed on the cheek, when lively spirits warmed the heart, and when toil strung the nerves with vigour. Cicero has remarked, that events the most dis- agreeable during their immediate influence, give an exquisite satisfaction when their consequences have ceased ; and ^neas soiaces" his companions under the hardships they endured with the consideration, that the remembrance of their sufferings would one day give them satisfaction. That these sentiments are just, is well known to those who have enjoyed the conversation of the soldier. Battles, skirmishes, and sieges, at which, perhaps, he trembled during the action, furnish him with topics of conversation and sources of pleasure for the remainder of his life. Reflection is the properest employment, and the sweetest satisfaction, in a rational old age. Desti- tute of strength and vigour necessary for bodily ex- ertions, and furnished with observations by experi- ence, the old man finds his greatest pleasure to con- sist in wandering in imagination over past scenes of delight, recounting the adventures of his youth, the vicissitudes of human life, and the public events to w.hich he is proud of having been an eye-witness. abject do men ish tricks and it school. The f complacency, when health ts wanned the !S with vigour, the most dis- uence, give an squences have >anions under consideration, igs would one ise sentiments have enjoyed is, skirmishes, iihled during conversation ainder of his lent, and the age. Desti- 'or bodily ex- tis by experi- asure to con- )ast scenes of is youth, the »lic events to eye-witness. THE PLEASUKES OF REFLECTION. 365 Of SO exalted a nature are these enjoyments, that theorists have not hesitated to assert that to recol ect a well-spent life is to anticipate the bliss of a future existence. The professors of philosophy, who will be acknowledged to have understood the nature of true and substantial pleasure better than the busy, the gay, and the dissipated, have ever .shown a predilection for privacy and solitude JNo other cause have they assigned for their con- duct m forsaking society, than that the noise and hurry of the world are incompatible with the exer- tion of calm reason and dispassionate reflection. The apothegm of that ancient who said, "he was never less alone than when by himself," is not to be considered merely as an epigrammatic turn. In vain wa^it to pursue philosophy in the Suburra; she was to be courted with success only in the sequestered shade of rural retirement. Were the powers of reflection cultivated by habit mankind would at all times be able to derive a pleasure fr^m their own breasts as rational as it is exal ed^ To the attainment of this happiness, a trict adherence to the rules of virtue is necessa;y ; for let It be remembered, that none can feel the pl„^of reflection whodo not enjoy the peaceof • i ?: CHAPTER LXIII. TASTE FOR THE C^ILTIVATION OF FLOWERS, AND OF BEAUTIFUL SHRUBS AND TREES. "DEAUTY of eveiy kind is formed to allure; J-J and there is this peculiar advantage in con- templating the beauties of vegetable nature, that we may permit our he;v- ■ to be captivated by them without apprehension . y dangerous or dishonour- able servitude. A taste for the beauties of vege- tation is the mark of a pure and innocent mind, and at the same time, one of the best preservations of purity and innocence. It diverts the attention from the turbulent scenes of folly, and superinduces a placid tranquillity highly favourable to the gentle virtues, and to the permanency of our most refined enjoyments. I have often been surprised to find those who possessed a very acute susceptibility of artificial or literary grace, and were powerfully affected by the beauties of a poem, a piece of sculpture, ov a painting, not at all more sensible of the charms of a tree or a floweret than a common ^nd inelegant spectator. They have dwelt with I'ERS, AND OF SES. etl to allure ; ntage in con- nature, that ated by them, or dishonour- ties of vege- nt mind, and, servations of tention from iperinduces a the gentle most refined rised to find :eptibility of ■ powerfully a piece of e sensible of 1 a common dwelt with TASTE FOR THE CULTIVATION OF FLOWERS. 367 rapture on a fine description of the Vale of Tempe they have entered into all the delight which a Shakspeare or a Milton meant to communicate in their enchanting pictures of flowery and sylvan scenes, and yet can walk through a wood, or tread on a bed of violets and primroses, without appear- mg to be affected with any peculiar pleasure. This IS certainly the effect of a superficial judgment; for there is no truth of which philosophers have been longer convinced, than that the realities of nature infinitely surpass the most perfect productions of imitation. The beauty of colour, though justly esteemed sub- ordinate to that of shape, is yet formed to delight the eye more immediately and more universally When colour and shape are united in the works of nature, he that can view them with insensibility must resign all pretensions to delicacy of perception Such a union ha^ been usually eff-ected by nature in the formation of a flower. There is scarcely a single object, in all the vege- table worid, in which so many agreeable qualities are combined as in the queen of flowers,— the rose. Nature certainly meant to regale the senses of her favourite with an object which presents to him at once freshness, fragrance, colour, and shape. The very soul seems to be refreshed on the bare recol- lection of the pleasures which the senses receive in contemplating, on a fine vernal morning, the charms 'k h 368 ROBKUT SHIELDS. of the pink, the violet, the honeysuckle, the hya- cinth, the narcissus, the jonquil, the rocket, the tu- lip, and a thousand others, in every variety of figure scent, and hue. Nature is no less remarkable for the accuracy and beauty of her works, than for variety and profusion. Defects are always discover- ed in the works of art when they are examined with a microscope ; but a close exaaiination of a leaf of a flower is like taking off the veil from the face of beauty. The finest needle ever polished and pointed by the most ingenious artist, appears' when it is viewed by the solar microscope, quite obtuse; while the sting of a bee, however magni- fied,still retains all its original acuteness of termina- tion. The serrated border in the petal of a flower and the fiinge on the wing of a fly. display an ac- curacy which no pencil ever yet could rival. The taste of the florist has not, indeed, been generally aspired at in the circles of fashion; while that of the connoisseur in paintingisconsidered as a mark of elegance of character, and an honourable distinction. Yet surely it is an inconsistency to be transported with the workmanship of a poor mortal, and to feel no raptures in surveying those highly finished pic- tures, in which it is easy to trace the finger of Omnipotence. The poets have given us most luxuriant descrip- tions of gardens and of rural scenery ; and, though they are thought by some to have exqeeded reality, 3, the hya- :et, the tu- y of figure, irkable for s, than for s discover- examined ation of a ii from the r polished, 't, appears, Jope, quite '^er magni- f termina- f a flower, lay an ac- val. The generally ile that of a mark of istinction. ansported nd to feel ished pic- finger of ; descrip- l, though i reality, TASTE FOR THE CULTIVATION OF FLOWERS. 369 they have indeed scarcely equalled it. Enter a mo- dern shrubbery formed of a selection of the most agreeable flowering shrubs, and consider, whether there is anything in the garden of Alcinous, in the fields of Elysium, in Milton's Paradise, to be com- pared with the intermixture of the lilac, the syringa the laburnum, the double-blossomed cherry, peach' and almond; with the rubinia, the jessamine, the moss-rose, the magnolia, and a great number of others, less common, but not of greater though per- haps of equal beauty. As we walk under clusters of flowers white as snow, tinged with gold, purple as tlie grape, blue as the expanse of heaven, and blush- ing like the cheek of youth, we are led to imagine ourselves in a fairy land, or in another and better world, where every delicate sense is delighted, and all around breathes fragrance and expands beauty, while the heart seems to participate in the joy of laughing nature. Groves and gardens have, indeed, been always supposed to soothe the mind into a placid temper particularly favourable to the indul- gence of contemplation. The excellent taste which now prevails in gardening usually combines the shrubbery and the grove. The tall trees of the forest constitute the back-ground in the living land- scape, and the shrubs, beneath and before them form the underwood, in a delightful resemblance to the natural coppice and the uncultivated forest. The plane tree is one of the first beauties among 370 m% HI Wmll - ■iii imII BOBEKT SHIELDS. those which are now mo.st frequently planted in our gardens; its large leaf and permanent verdure render It peculiarly fitted to afford a shade. I always con- sider ,t a.s a classical tree, for the ancient writers often mention it; and some of the finest philo- sophical dialogues of antiquity passed under the cool i-etreat of its broad and vivid foliage. Socrates sought no other theatre than the turf that grew un- der the plane-tree, on the banks of the Ilyssus. The weeping willow that droops over the babbling stream, constitutes one of those fine beauties which partake of the melancholy and romantic. Such in- deed, are the charms of its luxuriant branches, that when properly situated, it is, of itself, an enchanting image. Beautiful as are all the features of the modern garden, I should not hesitate to allot the hist place, m an estimate of horticultural graces, to the weeping willow. The pendant birch is at all times pleasing, and a most delightful object in Winter. Observe yonder tall stem, rising from the interstices of a craggy rock, covered with a rind white and glossy like silver, and dn^oping with f^n thousand fine twigs, so attenuated as to appear papillary. View it when sprinkled with hoar fLt or with snow, and if you have a soul capable of be- ing charmed with natural beauty,you will be sensibly affected at the sight with a sweet complacency. An od oak IS not often found in our gardens, because ot Its tardy vegetation; but whenever it appears •lanted in our erdure render I always con- icient writers finest philo- nder the cool fe. Socrates hat grew un- the Ilyssus. the babbling auties which c. Such, in- anches, that, 1 enchanting ures of the to allot the •al graces, to eh is at all 1 object in ig from the rith a rind, ng with ten to appear » hoar frost, 'able of be- be sensibly eeney. An IS, because it appears TASTE FOR THE CULTIVATION OF FLOWERS. 371 in them, it produces all the effect of graceful majesty, and one may contemplate it for hours with still new delight. The delicate acacia, the conical poplar of Lombardy, the flowery chestnut the soft lime, the elegant mountain ash, the a.s.' pinng fir, the glossy laurel— these all form so various and delightful pictures, that, while I am permitted to expatiate over the lawn, and penetrate the mazes of the wood and garden, I shall not repine that the distance of my rural retreat may prevent me from sauntering in the picture-galleries of a palace. Nature shall be my painter, and yonder hill my picture-gallery. The taste for plantation prevails greatly in this country, and it ought to be enco-raged, as it is a neyer-faihng source of pleasure to r . planter, and ot improvement to the community. j3ut it is to be hoped, that, while we plant the tree for ornament we shall not forget to drop the acorn into the bosom' of the earth,and raise that heart of oak, which bears an analogy to the bravery of the people, and has ever been to this land both a bulwark and a beauty. CHAPTER LXIV. THE HAPPINESS OF DOMESTIC LIFE. A N active life is exposed to many evils which ^X. cannot reach a state of retirement; but it is found by the uniform experience of mankind, to be upon the whole, productive of the most happiness! All are desirous of avoiding the listlessness of an un- employed condition. With neither the incentives of ambition, of fame, of interest, nor of emulation, men eagerly rush upon hazardous and painful enterprises J here is a quick, succession of ideas, a warm flow of spirits, an animated sensation, consequent on exer- tion, which amply compensate the fatigue of atten- tion and the chagrin of disappointment. One of the most useful effects of action is, that it renders repose agreeable. Perpetual rest is pain of the most intol- erable kind. But a judicious interchange of rest and motion, of indolent enjoyment and strenuous efforts gives a true relish of life which, when too tranquil' IS msipid; when too much agitated, wearisome and disgustful. This sweet repose, which is necessary to restore all the vigour by relaxing the overstrained the: Happiness of domestic life. 373 IFE. evils which it ; bufc it is ikind, to be, t happiness. 3as of an im- ncentives of ilation, men enterprises, arm flow of it on exer- le of atten- One of the ders repose most intol- of rest and lous efforts, )0 tranquil, isome and Jcessary to ^erstrained tone of the mind, has been sought for by tlie wisest and greatest of men at tlieir own fireside. Senators and lieroes have shut out the acclamations of an ap- plauding world, to enjoy the prattling of their little ones, and to partake the endearments of the family circle. They know that even their best friends, in the common intercourse of life, were, in some degree, actuated b> interested motives in displaying their affection ; that many of their followers applauded them in hopes of reward ; and that the giddy multi- tude, however zealous, were not always judicious in their approbation. But the attentions paid them at their fireside, the smiles which exhilarated their own table,- were the genuine result of undissembled love, and home was the only secure haven in the tempes- tuous voyage of life. The nursery has often allevi- ated the fatigues of the bar and the senate-house. Nothiii, ontributes more to raise the gently pleas- ing emotions thaii the view of infant innocence en- joying the rapturcG of a game at play. All the sen- timents of uncontrolled nature display themselves to the view, and furnish matter for agreeable refiection to the mind of the good-natured and philosophical observer. To partake with the children in their lit- tle pleasures, is by no means unmanly. It is one of the purest sources of mirth. It has an influence in amending the heart, which necessarily takes a tinc- ture from the company that surrounds us. Inno- cence, as well as guilt, is communicated and increased i f U 374 nOBKRT SHIKLDS. by the contagion of example. And the great Author of evangelical philosophy has taught us to emulate the simplicity of the infantile age. He seems Him- self to ha/e been delightiMl with young children, and founcl in them what He in vain sought among those who judged themselves their superiors— unpolluted purity of lieart. Among the gieat variety of pictures which the vivid imagination of Homer has displayed through- c'U the Iliad, there is not one more pleasing than the family-piece which represents the parting inter- view between Hector and Andromache. It'deeply interests the heart, while it delights the admiration. The hero ceases to be terrible, that he may become amiable. We admire him while he stands completely armed in the field of battle; but we love him more while he is taking off his helmet, that he may not frighten his little boy with its nodding plumes. We are refreshed with the tender scene of domestic love, while all around breathes rage and discord. We are pleased to see the arm, which is shortly to deal death and destmction among a host of foes, employed in caressing an infant son with the embraces of pa- ternal love. A professed critic would attribute the pleasing gffect entirely to contrast; but the heart has declared previously to the enquiries of criticism, that it is chiefly derived from the satisfaction which we naturally take in beholding great characters en- gaged in tender and amiable employments. great Author IS to emulate > seems Him- chiKlren.and among those — unpoUnted s which the ►^ed through- »Ieasing than arting inter- !. It deeply i admiration, mav become s completely .'e him more he may not plumes. We imestic love, rd. We are 'tly to deal s, employed races of pa- itribute the t the heart jf criticism, 2tion which iracters en-' THK HAPIMNKSS oF DOMESTIC LIFK. 375 But after all that is said of the purity and the so- Iidity of domestic pleasures, they unfoitunatcly ap- pear, to a great part of mankind, insipid, unmaidy and capable of satisfying none but the weak, the spiritless, the inexperienced, and the efTeminatc The pretenders to modern philosophy are often foun.l to renounce the best and most natural feelings of the human heart, and while they affect a superior liber- ality, to regulate their lives by the most selfish prin- ciples. Whatever appears to have little tendency to promote their own personal pleasure and advantacre they leave to be performed by those simple indivi- duals, who are dull enon^rh, as they say, to pursue the journey of life by the dull road of common sense It 18 true, they will allow that the world must be re- plenished hy a perpetual succession ; ard it is no less true, that an offspring once introduced into the world requires all the care of painful attention. But let the task be reserved for meaner spirits. If the passions can be gratified without the painful consequences of supporting a family, they eagerly seize the indul- gence. But the toil of education, the maintenance of a progeny, they leave to those whom thev deem fools enough to take pleasure in it. There will al- wa,ys be a sufficient number, sav they, whose folly will lead them, for the sake of a silly passion called virtuous love, to engage in a life of perpetual anxiety. The fool's paradise, they add with deri- sion, will never be deserted. 376 ttOBURT SHIELDS. FT Mil Presumptuous as are all such pretenders to newly- invented systems of life and conduct, it is not to be supposed they will think themselves superior to Cicero. Yet Cicero, with all his liberality of mind, felt the tenderness of conjugal and fraternal attach- ment, and acknowledged that at one time he re- ceived no satisfaction in any company but that of his wife, his little daughter, and, to use his own epithet, his honied young Cicero. The great Sir Thomas More, whom nobody will suspect of narrow- ness of mind, who, by a very singular treatise, evinced that he was capable of thinking and of choosing for himself, has left it on record, that he devoted a great share of his time, from the united motives of duty and delight, to the amusement of his children. It will be objected by those who pretend to have formed their ideas of life from actual obser- vation, that domestic happiness, however pleasing in description, like many a poetic dream, is but an al- luring picture, designed by a good heart and painted in glowing colours by a lively fancy. The constant company, they urge, even of those we love, occasions an insipidity. Insipidity grows into disgust. Dis- gust, long continued, sours the temper. Peevishness is the natural consequence. The domestic circle be- comes the scene of dispute. Mutual antipathy is ingenious in devising mutual torment. Sullen silence or malignant remarks fill up every hour, till the arrival of a stranger causes a temporary restraint, THE HAPPINESS OF DOMESTIC J.IFE. 377 ders to newly- it is not to be 8 superior to ality of mind, ternal attach- i time he re- r but that of use his own 'he great Sir jct of narrow- fular treatise, iking and of cord, that he n the united sement of his who pi-etend actual obser- er pleasing in is but an al- \i and painted The constant )ve, occasions isgust. Dis- Peevishness itic circle be- antipathy is iuUen silence our, till the ry restraint. and excites that good humour which ought to be displayed among those whom the bonds of affection and blood have already united. Experience, indeed, proves that these remarks are sometimes verified. But that there is much domestic misery, is no argu- ment that " '^re is no domestic happiness, or that the evil may not be removed. Natural stupidity, natural ill-temper, acquired ill habits, want of education, illiberal manners, and a neglect of the common rules of discretion, will render every species of intercourse disagreeable. When those are united by connubial ties, who were separat- ed by natural and inherent diversity, no wonder if that degreee of happiness which can only result from a proper union is unknown. In the forced alliance, which the poet of Venusium mentions, of the serpent with the dove, of the tiger with the lamb, there can be no true love. When we expatiate on the happi- ness of the domestic group, we presuppose that all who compose it are originally assimilated by affec- tion, and are still kept in union by discreet friend- ship, goodness of heart, and a sense of duty. Where this is not the case, the censure must fall on the dis- cordant disposition of the parties, and not on the essential nature and regular tendency of family in- tercourse. To form, under the direction of prudence, and by the impulse of virtuous love, an early conjugal at- tachment, is one of the best securities of virtue, as 378 llOBKUT SHIKLD«. well as the most probable means of happiness. The duties which arc powerfully called forth by the rela- tions of husband and father, are of that tender kind which inspires goodness and humanity. He who beholds a woman he loves, and an helpless infant looking up to him for support, will not easily be induced to indulge in unbecoming extravagance or devote himself to indolence or folly. He who has a rising family to introduce into a vicious world, will be cautious of setting a bad example, the contagion of which, when it proceeds from paternal authority, must be irresistibly malignant. Thus, many who, in their individual and unconnected state, would pro- bably have spent a life not only useless to others, but profligate and careless in itself, have become valuable members of the community, and have arrived at a degi-ee of moral improvement to which they would not otherwise have attained. The eon- tempt in which domestic pleasures have sometimes been held, is a mark of profligacy. It is also a proof of prevailing ignorance of real enjoyment. It argues a defect in taste and judgment, as well as in morals. For the general voice of the experienced has in all ages declared, that the truest happiness is to be found at home. piness. The I by the rela- tender kind y. He who pless infant ot easily be avagance or e who has a world, will le contagion il authority, lany who, in would pro- s to others, ave become and have it to which The con- J sometimes also a proof It argues s in morals. has in all to be found CHAPTER LXV. A CONCLUDING ESSAY. WE have endeavoured, throughout the whole soiies of these essays, to warn those who are entering into life,— and to them our admonitions are chiefly addressed,— against those fashionable ex- amples which often militate against all that is decent, regular, virtuous, and learned. Unless we are taught in our youth to be on our guard against their destructive influences, we shall certainly incur imminent danger of corrupting our principles and practice by a blind and bigoted imita- tion. Experience daily evinces that, without this precaution, all the advantages of a virtuous and learned education, all the precautions of paternal care, all prudential, moral, and religious restraints may be totally frustrated. The rich and great may be considered as beacons on a promontory ; and if they hang out deceitful lights, they who will allow no other signal to direct them (and the number of these is infinite) will probablv be miso-ui'led in the. 1 ^^^Bif - ] ^^^^^^^^^Hi.& I j ^ . ' ^ 380 ROBERT SHIELDS. voyage of their lives, till they are dashed on rocks or sunk in whirlpools. In adopting modes of address and external beha- viour, the study of which appears to engross the at- tention of many, we have advised the young man to begin his work at the foundation ; to correct his heart and temper, that the graces of his appearance may proceed from that copious and infallible source ot whatever is pleasing, a disposition truly virtuous and unaffectedly atniable. We have exhorted him to avoid servility, adulation, preferment-hunting and meanness of every kind ; to endeavour, indeed,' to please those with whom he converses, but to let the endeavour arise from benevolent motives, from a humane and Christian desire of diffusing ease and happiness among the children of one Almighty Fa- ther, and the partakers of the same imperfect nature We have advised him to be firm, yet gentle— manly, yet polite ; to cultivate every ornamental accomplish- ment which leads not to effeminacy, and to study to be as agreeable as possible, while he can be at the same time sincere ; to despise, and most studiously avoid, that common but base character, which with motives peculiarly selfish and contracted, pretends to uncommon good nature, friendship, benevolence, and generosity, whose assiduities are proportioned to the rank or fortune of the persons who are courted without the least regard to virtue or attainments ; whose politeness is that of a valet o: French danc- led on rocks ternal beha- gross the at- young man 3 correct his appearance llible source ily virtuous chorted him snt-hunting, our, indeed, i, but to let stives, from ig ease and [nighty Fa- fect nature, le — manly, iccomplish- to study to I be at the studiously t^hich with , pretends nevolence, ^portioned re coui-ted ainments ; nch danc- A CONCLUDING ESSAY. 381 ing-master, and whose objects, after all its profes- sions and pretences to liberality, are no less inte- rested than those of a Jew usurer. We have advised him to value the approbation of his own heart, and the comfoi-ts of a clear conscience, above the smiles, the applause and the rewards of a vain, a wicked, a deceitful, and a transitory, woild. In literature, we have recommended the union of taste with science, and of science with taste ; a selec- tion of the best authors on all the subjects which claim his particular attention ; a love of originals, and a due distrust of translation, a constant effort to obtain depth and solidity ; a persevering, regular, indefatigable industry, especially in the earlier per- iods of a studious course, not only because no dis- tinguished excellence can be obtained without it, but also because a close attention to study, and an ardent love of letters in the juvenile age, is a great preservative of innocence, and conduces much to the diversion or extinction of passions and tendencies which cannot be habitually indulged without sin, shame, and misery. Upon the whole, and after all the subtle disquisi- tions of proud philosophy ; all the inventions which owe their origin to malice, vanity, or ingenuity ; all the whimsical modes of living and thinking which fashion dictates for the employment of her idle hours, or for the gi-atification of her full-blown pride ; the plain virtues, as they arc undei-stood by plain men of 382 ROBERT SHIELDS. honest hearts and good qualities, improved by a competent education, are the best security for com- fort under all the circumstiinces, and in all situations of human life. Sedentary and recluse persons may amuse themselves, in the reveries of inactivity, with speculative refinement and sceptical subtleties'; but they who are really wise, and earnestly wish to ob- taui the happiness of which they are capable in this sublunary .state, must descend from the elevated re- gions of sophistry, and labour to acquire, with the assistance of common sense and common honesty the virtues of faith, humility, piety, and benevolence.' THE END. roved by a ty for com- 11 situations ersons may bivity, with 'leties; but wish to ob- ible in this levated re- !, with the a honesty, snevolence.