The individuals in society, who present to the view of their
cotemporaries, and transmit to posterity, Memorials of illustrious
men,—more especially those of their own country,—discharge thereby a
debt of gratitude: because every man is, directly or indirectly,
interested in the benefits conferred on his species, by those who
enlarge the sphere of human knowledge, or otherwise promote the
happiness of mankind.
But the biographer of an highly meritorious character aims at more than
the mere performance of that duty, which a grateful sense of obligation
exacts from him, in common with every member of the community, in
commemorating the beneficence of the wise and the good: he endeavours to
excite in great and liberal minds, by the example of such, an ambition
to emulate their talents and their virtues;—and it is these, that, by
their union, constitute true greatness of character.
The meed of applause which may be sometimes, and too often is, bestowed
on meretricious worth, is ever unsteady and fleeting. The pseudo-patriot
may happen to enjoy a transient popularity; false philosophy may, for a
while, delude, if not corrupt, the minds of an unthinking multitude; and
specious theories in every department of science,—unsupported by
experience and untenable on principles of sound reason,—may give to
their projectors a short-lived reputation: But the celebrity which is
coveted by the man of a noble and generous spirit,—that estimable
species of fame, which alone can survive such ephemera of error as are
often engendered by the vanity of the individual and nurtured by the
follies or vices of the many,—must ever rest on the permanent foundation
of truth, knowledge and beneficence.
Virtue is essentially necessary to the constitution of a truly great
character. For, although brilliant talents are sometimes found combined
with vicious propensities,[1]—the impulse given to men of this
description, often renders their great abilities baneful to society:
they can seldom, if ever, be productive of real public good. Should
eminent talents, possessed by a man destitute of virtue, even take a
right direction in their operation, by reason of some extraordinary
circumstance,—such an event ought never to be calculated on: It is not
the part of common sense,—much less of a cautious prudence, acquired by
a knowledge of mankind,—to expect praise-worthy conduct from any one,
whose predominating passions are bad, however great may be his
capability of doing good.
-----
Footnote 1:
Hence, in conformity to this sentiment, Mr. Pope says, when
animadverting on the insufficiency of talents, alone, for acquiring an
honourable fame and meriting a character truly great,—
“If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shin’d,
The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind;
Or, ravish’d with the whistling of a name,
See Cromwell damn’d to everlasting fame.”
[ESSAY ON MAN.]
-----
While, therefore, the mind may view, with a sort of admiration, the
achievements of a magnanimous soldier, it turns with indignation from
the atrocities of a military tyrant: and at the same time that it may be
induced to contemplate even with complacency, at the first view, the
plausible, yet groundless speculations of ingenious theorists, in
matters of science,—still the fallacy of their systems, when developed
by experience, strips them of all their tinseled glare of merit. Thus,
too, the applause which the world justly attaches to the character of a
patriot-hero, deserts the unprincipled ruffian-warrior, however valiant
and successful he may prove: In like manner, reason and experience
expose to the censure of the good and the derision of the wise, the
deleterious doctrines of metaphysical statesmen and philosophers.[2]
Such estimable qualities as they may possess, in either character, are
merged in the mischievous or base ones, with which they are combined:
thus, infamy or contempt eventually become the merited portion of crime
or of folly, as either one or the other may prevail. A Cæsar,[3] a
Cromwell and a Robespierre, with other scourges of mankind, of like
character, will therefore be viewed as objects of execration by
posterity, while the memories of an Alfred, a Nassau, and a Washington—a
Chatham, a Burke, and an Ames,—will be venerated, to the latest
posterity.
-----
Footnote 2:
The miserable consequences which have resulted to the civilized world,
from the mode of reasoning _abstractly_, and from the mere
_synthetical_ plan of philosophising, are too apparent to need much
comment. Even some _geometricians_ of great name have been seduced, by
such means, into monstrous absurdities in physics; and into the
maintenance of doctrines, alike subversive of religion and morals, as
destructive of the foundations of civil society. Such were Descartes,
Leibnitz and Spinoza, of the seventeenth century: and such have been,
and even now are, too many of that class of modern philosophers, as
well in this country as on the continent of Europe,—whose metaphysical
notions of religion and government, (although some of them may,
perhaps, be pretty correct on the subject of physics, alone,) have
been the means of inundating the world with scepticism; and, after
overturning regular, orderly, and peaceable states, of establishing
despotism and misery on the ruins of rational government, in many of
the fairest portions of the old world.
Even Voltaire, who had, himself, been instrumental in corrupting the
mind of the great Frederick of Prussia, and, thus, of furnishing the
means for the subsequent overthrow of that once powerful monarchy;
even _this infidel_ could not help exclaiming, in a moment of sober
reflection, “Who could have believed, that _geometricians_ have been
wild enough to imagine, that, in the exaltation of the soul, we may
possess the gift of divination; yet more than one philosopher took it
into their heads, by the example of _Descartes_, to put themselves
into God’s place, and create a world with a word! But now, all _these
philosophical follies_ are reproved by the wise; and even their
fantastical edifices, overthrown by reason, have left in their ruins,
materials, of which reason has made some use.—A like extravagance has
infected the _moral_ world: there have been some understandings so
blind as to undermine the very foundation of society, at the time they
thought to reform it. They have been mad enough to maintain that the
distinctions of _meum & tuum_ are criminal, and that one ought not to
enjoy the fruits of one’s own labour; that not only all mankind are
upon a level, but that they have perverted the order of nature, in
forming societies; that men are born to be separated from each other,
like wild beasts; and that amphibious animals, with bees and ants,
confound the eternal laws, by living in common! These impertinences,
worthy of an hospital of madmen,” continues Mr. de Voltaire,
sarcastically, “have been for some time in fashion, just as it is
customary to lead apes to dance, at fairs.” [See THE AGE OF LOUIS XV.
ch. 39.]
But although it cannot be doubted; that the society of Voltaire
contributed to support, if not to generate, the deistical principles
of Frederick II. other foreigners, whom he had patronized and
cherished in his own capital, and with whom he associated, most of
them Frenchmen, did much towards debauching his mind, in regard to
religion. The Prince de Ligne, a distinguished Austrian field-marshal,
has verified this remark. In a letter written to the king of Poland,
in the year 1785, the prince narrates some particulars of a
conversation which took place between the Prussian monarch and
himself, in the year 1770; and observes, that the king expressed his
libertine sentiments too freely, even making a boast of his
irreligion. The prince de Ligne, on this occasion, charges
freethinkers with a want of candour, in promulgating opinions fraught
with infidelity, while many of them heartily dread the consequences of
what they affect to renounce. But this, he remarks, is not their only
fault: “they are also apt,” says he, “to make a parade of
free-thinking; which betrays, at least, a want of taste. It was,”
continues the prince, “from having been surrounded by men of bad
taste, such as D’Argens, Maupertuis, La Beaumelle, La Mettrie, the
Abbé de Brades, and some clumsy infidels of his academy, that the king
had contracted the habit of abusing religion, and talking of dogmas,
Spinozism, the court of Rome, &c.”