No. 172. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1751

Saepe rogare soles, qualis sim, Prisce, futurus,

Si fiam locuples, simque repente potens.

Quemquam poss putas mores narrare futuros?

Dic mihi, si tu leo, qualis eris?

MART. Lib. xii. Ep. 93.

Priseus, you've often ask'd me how I'd live,

Should fate at once both wealth and honour give.

What soul his future conduct can foresee?

Tell me what sort of lion you would be. F. LEWIS.

NOTHING has been longer observed, than that

a change of fortune causes a change of manners;

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 frequently 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 in low stations, only

as they have more or fewer opportunities of gratifying

their desires, or as they are more or less

restrained by human censures. Many vitiate their

principles in the acquisition of riches; and who can

wonder that what is gained by fraud and extortion

is enjoyed with tyranny and excess?

Yet I am willing to believe that the depravation

of the mind by external advantages, though certainly

not uncommon, yet approaches not so nearly

to universality, as some have asserted in the

bitterness of resentness, or heat of declamation.

Whoever rises above those who once pleased

themselves with equality, will have many malevolent

gazers at his eminence. To gain sooner than

others that which all pursue with the same ardour,

and to which all imagine themselves entitled, will

for ever be a crime. When those who started with

us in the race of life, leave us so far behind, that we

have little hope to overtake them, we revenge our

disappointment by remarks on the arts of supplantation

by which they gained the advantage, or on

the folly and arrogance with which they possess it.

Of them, whose rise we could not hinder, we solace

ourselves by prognosticating the fall.

It is impossible for human purity not to betray

to an eye, thus sharpened by malignity, some stains

which lay concealed and unregarded, while none

thought it their interest to discover them; nor can

the most circumspect attention, or steady rectitude,

escape blame from censors, who have no inclination

to approve. Riches 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

certain that success naturally confirms us in a

favourable opinion of our own abilities. Scarce any man

is willing to allot to accident, friendship, and a

thousand causes, which concur in every event without

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

studiously looks for an affront, every mode of behaviour

will supply it; freedom will be rudeness, and reserve

sullenness; mirth will be negligence, and seriousness

formality; when he is received with ceremony, distance

and respect are inculcated; if he is treated

with familiarity, he concludes himself insulted by

condescensions.

It must however be confessed, that as all sudden

changes are dangerous, a quick transition 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 unbounded

riot, when they are first put into his power.

Every possession is endeared by novelty; every

gratification is exaggerated by desire. It is difficult

not to estimate what is lately gained above its real

value; it is impossible not to annex greater happiness

to that condition from which we are unwillingly

excluded, than nature has qualified us to

obtain. For this reason, the remote inheritor of an

unexpected fortune, may be generally distinguished

from those who are enriched in the common course

of lineal descent, by his greater haste to enjoy his

wealth, by the finery of his dress, the pomp of

his equipage, the splendour of his furniture, and the

luxury of his table.

A thousand things which familiarity discovers to

be of little value, have power for a time to seize

the imagination. A Virginian king, when the Europeans

had fixed a lock on his door, was so delighted

to find his subjects admitted or excluded with such

facility, that it was from morning to evening his

whole employment to turn the key. We, among

whom locks and keys have been longer in use, are

inclined to laugh at this American amusement; yet

I doubt whether this paper will have a single reader

that may not apply the story to himself, and

recollect some hours of his life in which he has been

equally overpowered by the transitory charms of

trifling novelty.

Some indulgence is due to him whom a happy

gale of fortune has suddenly transported into new

regions, where unaccustomed lustre dazzles his eyes,

and untasted delicacies solicit his appetite. Let him

not be considered as lost in hopeless degeneracy,

though he for a while forgets the regard due to

others, to indulge the contemplation of himself,

and in the extravagance of his first raptures

expects that his eye should regulate the motions of

all that approach him, and his opinion be received

as decisive and oraculous. His intoxication will give

way to time; the madness of joy will fume

imperceptibly away; the sense of his insufficiency will

soon return; 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 ought

to alleviate our censures of the powerful and rich.

To imagine them chargeable with all the guilt and

folly of their own actions, is to be very little

acquainted with the world.

De l'absolu pouvoir vous ignorez l'yvresse,

Et du lache flateur la voix enchanteresse.

Thou hast not known the giddy whirls of fate,

Nor servile flatteries which enchant the great. MISS A. W.

He that can do much good or harm, will not find

many whom ambition or cowardice will suffer to

be sincere. While we live upon the level with the

rest of mankind, we are reminded 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 their faults; if by any

accident an opprobrious clamour reaches their ears,

flattery is always at hand to pour in her opiates, to

quiet conviction, and obtund remorse.

Favour is seldom gained but by conformity in

vice. Virtue can stand without assistance, and

considers herself as very little obliged by countenance

and approbation: but vice, spiritless and timorous,

seeks the shelter of crowds, and support of

confederacy. The sycophant, therefore, neglects the good

qualities of his patron, and employs all his art on

his weaknesses and follies, regales his reigning vanity,

or stimulates his prevalent desires.

Virtue is sufficiently difficult with any

circumstances, 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

must oppose artifice and adulation. He, therefore,

that yields to such temptations, cannot give those

who look upon his miscarriage much reason for

exultation, since few can justly presume that from the

same snare they should have been able to escape.

The Works of Samuel Johnson, in Sixteen Volumes. Volume 04 · 第 12 / 140 题