OF QUALITIES IMMEDIATELY AGREEABLE TO OTHERS.
[Footnote: It is the nature and, indeed, the definition of
virtue, that it is A QUALITY OF THE MIND AGREEABLE TO OR APPROVED OF BY
EVERY ONE WHO CONSIDERS OR CONTEMPLATES IT. But some qualities produce
pleasure, because they are useful to society, or useful or agreeable
to the person himself; others produce it more immediately, which is the
case with the class of virtues here considered.]
AS the mutual shocks, in SOCIETY, and the oppositions of interest and
self-love have constrained mankind to establish the laws of JUSTICE, in
order to preserve the advantages of mutual assistance and protection: in
like manner, the eternal contrarieties, in COMPANY, of men's pride and
self-conceit, have introduced the rules of Good Manners or Politeness,
in order to facilitate the intercourse of minds, and an undisturbed
commerce and conversation. Among well-bred people, a mutual deference is
affected; contempt of others disguised; authority concealed; attention
given to each in his turn; and an easy stream of conversation
maintained, without vehemence, without interruption, without eagerness
for victory, and without any airs of superiority. These attentions
and regards are immediately AGREEABLE to others, abstracted from any
consideration of utility or beneficial tendencies: they conciliate
affection, promote esteem, and extremely enhance the merit of the person
who regulates his behaviour by them.
Many of the forms of breeding are arbitrary and casual; but the thing
expressed by them is still the same. A Spaniard goes out of his own
house before his guest, to signify that he leaves him master of all.
In other countries, the landlord walks out last, as a common mark of
deference and regard.
But, in order to render a man perfect GOOD COMPANY, he must have Wit and
Ingenuity as well as good manners. What wit is, it may not be easy
to define; but it is easy surely to determine that it is a quality
immediately AGREEABLE to others, and communicating, on its first
appearance, a lively joy and satisfaction to every one who has any
comprehension of it. The most profound metaphysics, indeed, might be
employed in explaining the various kinds and species of wit; and many
classes of it, which are now received on the sole testimony of taste and
sentiment, might, perhaps, be resolved into more general principles. But
this is sufficient for our present purpose, that it does affect taste
and sentiment, and bestowing an immediate enjoyment, is a sure source of
approbation and affection.
In countries where men pass most of their time in conversation, and
visits, and assemblies, these COMPANIONABLE qualities, so to speak,
are of high estimation, and form a chief part of personal merit. In
countries where men live a more domestic life, and either are employed
in business, or amuse themselves in a narrower circle of acquaintance,
the more solid qualities are chiefly regarded. Thus, I have often
observed, that, among the French, the first questions with regard to a
stranger are, IS HE POLITE? HAS HE WIT? In our own country, the chief
praise bestowed is always that of a GOOD-NATURED, SENSIBLE FELLOW.
In conversation, the lively spirit of dialogue is AGREEABLE, even to
those who desire not to have any share in the discourse: hence the
teller of long stories, or the pompous declaimer, is very little
approved of. But most men desire likewise their turn in the
conversation, and regard, with a very evil eye, that LOQUACITY which
deprives them of a right they are naturally so jealous of.
There is a sort of harmless LIARS, frequently to be met with in company,
who deal much in the marvellous. Their usual intention is to please and
entertain; but as men are most delighted with what they conceive to be
truth, these people mistake extremely the means of pleasing, and incur
universal blame. Some indulgence, however, to lying or fiction is
given in HUMOROUS stories; because it is there really agreeable and
entertaining, and truth is not of any importance.
Eloquence, genius of all kinds, even good sense, and sound reasoning,
when it rises to an eminent degree, and is employed upon subjects of
any considerable dignity and nice discernment; all these endowments seem
immediately agreeable, and have a merit distinct from their usefulness.
Rarity, likewise, which so much enhances the price of every thing, must
set an additional value on these noble talents of the human mind.
Modesty may be understood in different senses, even abstracted from
chastity, which has been already treated of. It sometimes means that
tenderness and nicety of honour, that apprehension of blame, that dread
of intrusion or injury towards others, that Pudor, which is the proper
guardian of every kind of virtue, and a sure preservative against vice
and corruption. But its most usual meaning is when it is opposed
to IMPUDENCE and ARROGANCE, and expresses a diffidence of our own
judgement, and a due attention and regard for others. In young men
chiefly, this quality is a sure sign of good sense; and is also the
certain means of augmenting that endowment, by preserving their ears
open to instruction, and making them still grasp after new attainments.
But it has a further charm to every spectator; by flattering every man's
vanity, and presenting the appearance of a docile pupil, who receives,
with proper attention and respect, every word they utter.
Men have, in general, a much greater propensity to overvalue than
undervalue themselves; notwithstanding the opinion of Aristotle
[Footnote: Ethic. ad Nicomachum.]. This makes us more jealous of the
excess on the former side, and causes us to regard, with a peculiar
indulgence, all tendency to modesty and self-diffidence; as esteeming
the danger less of falling into any vicious extreme of that nature. It
is thus in countries where men's bodies are apt to exceed in corpulency,
personal beauty is placed in a much greater degree of slenderness, than
in countries where that is the most usual defect. Being so often struck
with instances of one species of deformity, men think they can never
keep at too great a distance from it, and wish always to have a
leaning to the opposite side. In like manner, were the door opened to
self-praise, and were Montaigne's maxim observed, that one should say as
frankly, I HAVE SENSE, I HAVE LEARNING, I HAVE COURAGE, BEAUTY, OR WIT,
as it is sure we often think so; were this the case, I say, every one
is sensible that such a flood of impertinence would break in upon us,
as would render society wholly intolerable. For this reason custom
has established it as a rule, in common societies, that men should not
indulge themselves in self-praise, or even speak much of themselves;
and it is only among intimate friends or people of very manly behaviour,
that one is allowed to do himself justice. Nobody finds fault with
Maurice, Prince of Orange, for his reply to one who asked him, whom he
esteemed the first general of the age, THE MARQUIS OF SPINOLA, said he,
IS THE SECOND. Though it is observable, that the self-praise implied is
here better implied, than if it had been directly expressed, without any
cover or disguise.
He must be a very superficial thinker, who imagines that all instances
of mutual deference are to be understood in earnest, and that a man
would be more esteemable for being ignorant of his own merits and
accomplishments. A small bias towards modesty, even in the internal
sentiment, is favourably regarded, especially in young people; and a
strong bias is required in the outward behaviour; but this excludes not
a noble pride and spirit, which may openly display itself in its full
extent, when one lies under calumny or oppression of any kind. The
generous contumacy of Socrates, as Cicero calls it, has been highly
celebrated in all ages; and when joined to the usual modesty of his
behaviour, forms a shining character. Iphicrates, the Athenian, being
accused of betraying the interests of his country, asked his accuser,
WOULD YOU, says he, HAVE, ON A LIKE OCCASION, BEEN GUILTY OF THAT CRIME?
BY NO MEANS, replied the other. AND CAN YOU THEN IMAGINE, cried the
hero, that Iphicrates WOULD BE GUILTY? [Footnote: Quinctil. lib. v. cap.
12.]--In short, a generous spirit and self-value, well founded, decently
disguised, and courageously supported under distress and calumny, is a
great excellency, and seems to derive its merit from the noble elevation
of its sentiment, or its immediate agreeableness to its possessor. In
ordinary characters, we approve of a bias towards modesty, which is
a quality immediately agreeable to others: the vicious excess of
the former virtue, namely, insolence or haughtiness, is immediately
disagreeable to others; the excess of the latter is so to the possessor.
Thus are the boundaries of these duties adjusted.
A desire of fame, reputation, or a character with others, is so far
from being blameable, that it seems inseparable from virtue, genius,
capacity, and a generous or noble disposition. An attention even to
trivial matters, in order to please, is also expected and demanded by
society; and no one is surprised, if he find a man in company to observe
a greater elegance of dress and more pleasant flow of conversation, than
when he passes his time at home, and with his own family. Wherein, then,
consists Vanity, which is so justly regarded as a fault or imperfection.
It seems to consist chiefly in such an intemperate display of our
advantages, honours, and accomplishments; in such an importunate and
open demand of praise and admiration, as is offensive to others, and
encroaches too far on their secret vanity and ambition. It is besides a
sure symptom of the want of true dignity and elevation of mind, which is
so great an ornament in any character. For why that impatient desire
of applause; as if you were not justly entitled to it, and might not
reasonably expect that it would for ever at tend you? Why so anxious to
inform us of the great company which you have kept; the obliging things
which were said to you; the honours, the distinctions which you met
with; as if these were not things of course, and what we could readily,
of ourselves, have imagined, without being told of them?
Decency, or a proper regard to age, sex, character, and station in the
world, may be ranked among the qualities which are immediately agreeable
to others, and which, by that means, acquire praise and approbation. An
effeminate behaviour in a man, a rough manner in a woman; these are ugly
because unsuitable to each character, and different from the qualities
which we expect in the sexes. It is as if a tragedy abounded in comic
beauties, or a comedy in tragic. The disproportions hurt the eye, and
convey a disagreeable sentiment to the spectators, the source of blame
and disapprobation. This is that INDECORUM, which is explained so much
at large by Cicero in his Offices.
Among the other virtues, we may also give Cleanliness a place; since
it naturally renders us agreeable to others, and is no inconsiderable
source of love and affection. No one will deny, that a negligence in
this particular is a fault; and as faults are nothing but smaller vices,
and this fault can have no other origin than the uneasy sensation which
it excites in others; we may, in this instance, seemingly so trivial,
clearly discover the origin of moral distinctions, about which the
learned have involved themselves in such mazes of perplexity and error.
But besides all the AGREEABLE qualities, the origin of whose beauty
we can, in some degree, explain and account for, there still remains
something mysterious and inexplicable, which conveys an immediate
satisfaction to the spectator, but how, or why, or for what reason,
he cannot pretend to determine. There is a manner, a grace, an ease, a
genteelness, an I-know-not-what, which some men possess above others,
which is very different from external beauty and comeliness, and which,
however, catches our affection almost as suddenly and powerfully. And
though this MANNER be chiefly talked of in the passion between the
sexes, where the concealed magic is easily explained, yet surely much
of it prevails in all our estimation of characters, and forms no
inconsiderable part of personal merit. This class of accomplishments,
therefore, must be trusted entirely to the blind, but sure testimony of
taste and sentiment; and must be considered as a part of ethics, left by
nature to baffle all the pride of philosophy, and make her sensible of
her narrow boundaries and slender acquisitions.
We approve of another, because of his wit, politeness, modesty, decency,
or any agreeable quality which he possesses; although he be not of our
acquaintance, nor has ever given us any entertainment, by means of
these accomplishments. The idea, which we form of their effect on his
acquaintance, has an agreeable influence on our imagination, and gives
us the sentiment of approbation. This principle enters into all the
judgements which we form concerning manners and characters.