ON CERTAIN SYMPTOMS OF GREATNESS[4]

There is no affection of the mind so much blended in human nature, and

wrought into our very constitution, as pride. It appears under a

multitude of disguises, and breaks out in ten thousand different

symptoms. Every one feels it in himself, and yet wonders to see it in

his neighbor. I must confess, I met with an instance of it the other

day where I should very little have expected it. Who would believe the

proud person I am going to speak of is a cobbler upon Ludgate hill?

This artist being naturally a lover of respect, and considering that

his circumstances are such that no man living will give it him, has

contrived the figure of a beau, in wood; who stands before him in a

bending posture, with his hat under his left arm, and his right hand

extended in such a manner as to hold a thread, a piece of wax, or an

awl, according to the particular service in which his master thinks

fit to employ him. When I saw him, he held a candle in this obsequious

posture. I was very well pleased with the cobbler's invention, that

had so ingeniously contrived an inferior, and stood a little while

contemplating this inverted idolatry, wherein the image did homage to

the man. When we meet with such a fantastic vanity in one of this

order, it is no wonder if we may trace it through all degrees above

it, and particularly through all the steps of greatness.

We easily see the absurdity of pride when it enters into the heart of

a cobbler; tho in reality it is altogether as ridiculous and

unreasonable, wherever it takes possession of a human creature. There

is no temptation to it from the reflection upon our being in general,

or upon any comparative perfection, whereby one man may excel another.

The greater a man's knowledge is, the greater motive he may seem to

have for pride; but in the same proportion as the one rises the other

sinks, it being the chief office of wisdom to discover to us our

weaknesses and imperfections.

As folly is the foundation of pride, the natural superstructure of it

is madness. If there was an occasion for the experiment, I would not

question to make a proud man a lunatic in three weeks' time, provided

I had it in my power to ripen his frenzy with proper applications. It

is an admirable reflection in Terence, where it is said of a parasite,

"_Hic homines ex stultis facit insanos._" "This fellow," says he, "has

an art of converting fools into madmen." When I was in France, the

region of complaisance and vanity, I have often observed that a great

man who has entered a levee of flatterers humble and temperate has

grown so insensibly heated by the court which was paid him on all

sides, that he has been quite distracted before he could get into his

coach.

If we consult the collegiates of Moorfields, we shall find most of

them are beholden to their pride for their introduction into that

magnificent palace. I had, some years ago, the curiosity to inquire

into the particular circumstances of these whimsical freeholders; and

learned from their own mouths the condition and character of each of

them. Indeed, I found that all I spoke to were persons of quality.

There were at that time five duchesses, three earls, two heathen gods,

an emperor, and a prophet. There were also a great number of such as

were locked up from their estates, and others who concealed their

titles. A leather-seller of Taunton whispered me in the ear that he

was the "Duke of Monmouth," but begged me not to betray him. At a

little distance from him sat a tailor's wife, who asked me, as I went,

if I had seen the sword-bearer, upon which I presumed to ask her who

she was, and was answered, "My lady mayoress."

I was very sensibly touched with compassion toward these miserable

people; and, indeed, extremely mortified to see human nature capable

of being thus disfigured. However, I reaped this benefit from it, that

I was resolved to guard myself against a passion which makes such

havoc in the brain, and produces so much disorder in the imagination.

For this reason I have endeavored to keep down the secret swellings of

resentment, and stifle the very first suggestions of self-esteem; to

establish my mind in tranquillity, and over-value nothing in my own or

in another's possession.

For the benefit of such whose heads are a little turned, tho not to so

great a degree as to qualify them for the place of which I have been

now speaking, I shall assign one of the sides of the college which I

am erecting, for the cure of this dangerous distemper.

The most remarkable of the persons, whose disturbance arises from

pride, and whom I shall use all possible diligence to cure, are such

as are hidden in the appearance of quite contrary habits and

dispositions. Among such, I shall, in the first place, take care of

one who is under the most subtle species of pride that I have observed

in my whole experience.

The patient is a person for whom I have a great respect, as being an

old courtier, and a friend of mine in my youth. The man has but a bare

subsistence, just enough to pay his reckoning with us at the Trumpet;

but, by having spent the beginning of his life is the hearing of great

men and persons of power, he is always promising to do good offices to

introduce every man he converses with into the world; will desire one

of ten times his substance to let him see him sometimes, and hints to

him that he does not forget him. He answers to matters of no

consequence with great circumspection; but, however, maintains a

general civility in his words and actions, and an insolent benevolence

to all whom he has to do with. This he practises with a grave tone and

air; and tho I am his senior by twelve years, and richer by forty

pounds per annum, he had yesterday the impudence to commend me to my

face, and tell me, "he should be always ready to encourage me." In a

word, he is a very insignificant fellow, but exceeding gracious. The

best return I can make him for his favors is to carry him myself to

Bedlam and see him well taken care of.

The next person I shall provide for is of a quite contrary character,

that has in him all the stiffness and insolence of quality, without a

grain of sense or good-nature, to make it either respected or

beloved. His pride has infected every muscle of his face; and yet,

after all his endeavors to show mankind that he contemns them, he is

only neglected by all that see him, as not of consequence enough to be

hated.

For the cure of this particular sort of madness, it will be necessary

to break through all forms with him, and familiarize his carriage by

the use of a good cudgel. It may likewise be of great benefit to make

him jump over a stick half a dozen times every morning.

A third, whom I have in my eye, is a young fellow, whose lunacy is

such that he boasts of nothing but what he ought to be ashamed of. He

is vain of being rotten, and talks publicly of having committed crimes

which he ought to be hanged for by the laws of his country.

There are several others whose brains are hurt with pride, and whom I

may hereafter attempt to recover; but shall conclude my present list

with an old woman, who is just dropping into her grave, that talks of

nothing but her birth. Tho she has not a tooth in her head, she

expects to be valued for the blood in her veins, which she fancies is

much better than that which glows in the cheeks of Belinda, and sets

half the town on fire.

The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. IV (of X)—Great Britain and Ireland II · 第 43 / 170 题