Do you not find, in almost every company, one who pronounces
decisively upon every matter which comes in question? His voice is
loud and firm, his eye bold and confident, and his whole manner
oracular. No cold hesitations as to points of fact ever tease him.
Little time does he require to make up his mind on any speculative
subject. He is all _yes_ or all _no_ at once and without appeal.
Opposite opinions he treats with, at the best, a sublime pity, meant
to be graceful, but, in reality, galling. He is often a goose; but, be
he what he may, it is ten to one that he carries off the majority of
the company in the mere sweep of his gown. They are led by him for the
time, fascinated by the energy of his pronunciations. They may all
recover from him afterwards--some after one day, some after two, and
particularly weak men after, perhaps, a week. At the moment, however,
the pronouncer has vast influence, and, if immediate action can be
determined on, it is very likely that he drags his victims into some
committal of themselves, from which subsequent escape may not be very
easy.
While pronouncing is thus the prominent quality of a few, it is more
or less the vice of nearly all. Men feel that they have an inherent
right to their opinion, and to the promulgation of it, and are not
very apt to reflect that there is another question--as to whether
their opinion be worth delivering; whether it has been formed upon a
good basis of knowledge or experience, or upon any basis at all;
whether it is the emanation of ripe judgment and reflection, or of
some mere passing gust of ideas springing from the whim of the minute.
Hence, when any question arises, it is seldom found that any one is
quite unprepared to give some sort of decision. Even the giddy girl of
seventeen will have something to say upon it, albeit she may never
have heard of the matter before. It is thought foolish-looking not to
be able to pronounce, as if one imperiled the right of private
judgment itself by not being prepared in every case to act upon it. In
consequence, what absurd opinions do we hear in all kinds of companies
upon all kinds of topics! How the angels, who know better, must weep!
A conversational party even of tolerably well-educated persons, often
presents itself in a ludicrous light. Some question has arisen amongst
them. No one has any clear or definite information upon it. They have
had disputes about the simplest matters of fact involved in it. Yet no
person there, down to the youngest, but would take scorn to be held as
incapable of pronouncing upon it. There are as many opinions as there
are persons present, and not one less confident than another. What is
very natural in such circumstances, no one has the least respect for
the opinions of any of the rest. Each, in fact, does justice upon his
neighbour for the absurdity of pronouncing without grounds, while
incapable of seeing the absurdity in himself. And thus an hour will be
passed in a most unprofitable manner, and perhaps the social spirit of
the company be not a little marred. How much better to say: 'Well,
that is a subject I know nothing about: I will not undertake to
judge.' Supposing all who are present to be in the same predicament,
they might dismiss the barren subject, and start another on which some
one could throw real light, and from which, accordingly, all might
derive some benefit.
Is not this habit of pronouncing without preparation in inquiry and
reflection just one of the causes of that remarkable diversity of
opinion which is so often deplored for its unpleasant consequences? In
ignorance--fancy, whim, and prejudice usurp the directing power. If we
take no time for consideration, we shall be apt to plunge into an
error, and afterwards persevere in it for the sake of consistency, or
because it has become a thing which we regard as our own. In such
circumstances, no wonder there are as many 'minds' as 'men.' But when
any one can speak on the ground of well-ascertained facts, and after
some deliberation on the bearings of the question, he must carry
others with him, not by fascination, but by real conviction, and thus
greatly reduce the proportion of opinions to men. Very likely, some
other man has got hold of a somewhat different range of facts, and
come to different conclusions: he, too, will have his party of
followers. But there being two or three discrepant views on the
subject, is a much less evil than there being as many as there are
individuals.
The right of pronouncing upon public affairs is one that would be
particularly clung to if there were any danger of its being lost, and
it certainly is not in England that any writer would be found ready to
challenge so valued a privilege. At the same time, no one will
seriously deny, that if this right were used more generally with the
advantage of a tolerable knowledge of the subject, it would be an
improvement. Public men may be acting, as, indeed, they must generally
do, upon certain data carefully brought out by inquiry: they may judge
and act amiss after all, for human judgment is fallible. But when we
contrast their means of forming a judgment with those of many persons
who hesitate not to pronounce upon their measures, it cannot be denied
that they stand in a strong position. When we hear a bold condemnation
of their acts from men who, so far from having gone through the same
process of inquiry, have not even perused the documents in which the
grounds of the administrative policy were explained, can we do
otherwise than smile at the pretensions of the _pseudo_-judges? Is not
the frequency of this unfounded judging much more apt to harden an
unlucky statesman than to make him amenable to counsel? On the other
hand, when a public man finds himself and his actions criticised by
men who have knowledge, he must be a hardy one indeed who can entirely
disregard the judgment.
If we attentively study the progress of any man who has acquired
influence over his fellow-creatures--apart from certain matters in
which the feelings are mainly concerned--we shall find that he has
distinguished himself by a habit of not pronouncing where he has no
means of forming a judgment. Such a man has had the good sense to see
and confess that he could not be expected to know many things
sufficiently well to entitle him to pronounce authoritatively upon
them. He has probably given some considerable share of attention to
certain subjects that are of some importance to his fellow-creatures,
and thus fitted himself, with regard to them, to speak with more or
less decision. Never found guilty of giving a vague, crudely-formed
judgment on things a hundred miles out of his way, but, on the
contrary, obtaining credit occasionally for the manner in which he
treats those with which he is conversant, he irresistibly acquires
character and influence. Young hasty minds laugh at his taking such
care not to commit himself: he is perhaps taxed with getting credit
for merely looking grave and holding his tongue. But this very holding
of the tongue when there is nothing to say, is, in reality, one of the
greatest, though often one of the last-learned virtues. Were his
merits purely negative, they would be great; tending as they do to
save truth from that obscuration which a multitude of ill-formed
opinions necessarily throw upon it. But we shall usually discover in
such men a positive merit also in their power to illustrate and give a
guiding opinion upon certain subjects of importance to public or
private interests.
There is not one sentence in this little essay which may not be justly
set down as mere commonplace. We acknowledge the fault; but defend it
on the ground that sound and useful commonplaces require a continual
refreshing and re-presentment, so many persons being, after all,
unaware or forgetful of them.
On a similar ground of defence, we would take leave to remind mankind
of the good old maxim, 'Hear the other party.' Familiar to most
people, observed by some, there are multitudes who uniformly act as if
they had never heard of it. To be quite candid, we often catch
ourselves neglecting it; and always, at the best, it takes a struggle
to make it a reality in our conduct. Experience, however, impresses us
more and more with a sense of its being absolutely essential to the
ascertainment of truth in any disputable case. There is so much bias
from self-love, so much recklessness about truth in general, and so
much of even a sincere faithlessness of narration, that no partial
account of anything is to be trusted. It is but a small concession to
the cause of truth, to wait till we hear the statement of the opposite
party, or not to pronounce without it. If anything were required to
prove how little this is reflected on, it would be the readiness of
nearly all persons to tell their own story, without intimating the
slightest doubt that it is to be implicitly received on their own
shewing. One cannot walk along a street, but some friend will come up
and inflict a narration, limited entirely to his own view of a case in
which he is interested or aggrieved, practically ignoring that there
can and must be another way of stating it. And so great is the
complaisance of mankind, that no one thinks of intimating any
necessity for consulting another authority before giving judgment.
Here the vicious habit of thoughtless pronouncing is doubly bad, as it
involves also a kind of flattery.
There are some novel doctrines and theories, which seem doomed to meet
with prejudice and opposition, but which yet must have some vitality
about them, seeing that they survive so much ill-treatment. It is
curious to observe how little regard to the rules of reasoning is
usually felt to be necessary in opposing these theories--how mere
pronouncing comes to stand in their case in the stead of evidence and
argument. Although they may have been brought forward as mere forms of
possible truth--ideal points round which to rally the scattered forces
of investigation--and only advanced as far as facts would go, and no
further--you will find them denounced as visions, tending to the
breach of the philosophic peace; while, on the other hand, those who
oppose them, albeit on no sort of ground but a mere pronunciation of
contrary opinion, obtain all the credit due to the genuine
philosopher. Abstractly, it would be generally admitted that any
doctrine for which a certain amount of evidence is shewn, can only be
overthrown by a superior force of evidence on the other side. But
practically this is of no avail. Doubt and denial are so important to
philosophy, and confer such an air of superior wisdom, that merely to
doubt and deny will be pretty sure to carry both the educated and the
uneducated vulgar. To get a high character in that position is of
course very easy. Little more than pronouncing is required. As to the
respective positions of the affirmer and denier in some future time,
when truth has attained the power of asserting her reign against
prejudice, that is another thing.
To return to the general question--If any one be impressed by our
remarks with a sense of the absurdity of pronouncing without knowledge
and reflection, let him endeavour to avoid it, and he will confer a
sensible benefit on society. When next he is in company, and a subject
occurs to tempt him into an expression of opinion, let him pause a
moment, and say to himself: 'Now, do I know anything about it--or if I
know something, do I know enough--to enable me to speak without fear
of being contradicted? Have I ever given it any serious reflection? Am
I sure that I have an opinion about it at all? Am I sure that I
entertain no prejudice on the point?' Were every one of us children of
British freedom to take these precautions, there would be more power
amongst us to pronounce wisely. There would be a more vigorous and
healthful public opinion, and the amenity, as well as instructiveness
of private society would be much increased.