signifies to take off a man’s armour, and also to subdue him in fight.
We are directed to the latter sense by the context. But with regard to
Helen the word holds only true in the former sense. I go on with other
examples.
Esse nihil dicis quicquid petis, improbe Cinna:
Si nil, Cinna, petis, nil tibi, Cinna, nego.
_Martial, l. 3. epigr. 61._
Jocondus geminum imposuit tibi, Sequana, pontem;
Hunc tu jure potes dicere pontificem.
_Sanazarius._
N. B. _Jocondus was a monk._
_Chief Justice._ Well! the truth is, Sir John, you live in great
infamy.
_Falstaff._ He that buckles him in my belt, cannot live in less.
_Chief Justice._ Your means are very slender, and your waste is
great.
_Falstaff._ I would it were otherwise: I would my means were
greater, and my waste slenderer.
_Second part, Henry_ IV. _act. 1 sc. 5._
_Celia._ I pray you bear with me, I can go no further.
_Clown._ For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear you: yet
I should bear no cross if I did bear you; for I think you have no
money in your purse.
_As you like it, act 2. sc. 4._
He that imposes an oath makes it,
Not he that for convenience takes it;
Then how can any man be said,
To break an oath he never made?
_Hudibras, part 2. canto 2._
The seventh satire of the first book of Horace, is purposely contrived
to introduce at the close a most execrable pun. Talking of some infamous
wretch whose name was _Rex Rupilius_.
Persius exclamat, Per magnos, Brute, deos te
Oro, qui reges consueris tollere, cur non
Hunc regem jugulas? Operum hoc, mihi crede, tuorum est.
Though playing with words is a mark of a mind at ease, and disposed for
any sort of amusement, we must not thence conclude that playing with
words is always ludicrous. Words are so intimately connected with
thought, that if the subject be really grave, it will not appear
ludicrous even in this fantastic dress. I am, however, far from
recommending it in any serious performance. On the contrary, the
discordance betwixt the thought and expression must be disagreeable;
witness the following specimen.
He hath abandoned his physicians, Madam, under whose practices he
hath persecuted time with hope: and finds no other advantage in the
process, but only the losing of hope by time.
_All’s well that ends well, act 1. sc. 1._
_K. Henry._ O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
When that my care could not with-hold thy riots,
What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
_Second part, K. Henry_ IV.
A smart repartee may be considered as a species of wit. A certain
petulant Greek, objecting to Anacharsis that he was a Scythian: True,
says Anacharsis, my country disgraces me, but you disgrace your
country.
CHAP. XIV.
Custom and Habit.
Inquiring into the nature of man as a sensitive being, and finding him
affected in a high degree with novelty, would any one conjecture that he
is equally affected with custom? Yet these frequently take place, not
only in the same person, but even with relation to the same subject:
when new, it is inchanting; familiarity renders it indifferent; and
custom, after a longer familiarity, makes it again desirable. Human
nature, diversified with many and various springs of action, is
wonderfully, and, indulging the expression, intricately constructed.
Custom hath such influence upon many of our feelings, by warping and
varying them, that we must attend to its operations if we would be
acquainted with human nature. This subject, in itself obscure, has been
much neglected; and to give a complete analysis of it will be no easy
task. I pretend only to touch it cursorily; hoping, however, that what
is here laid down, will dispose more diligent inquirers to attempt
further discoveries.
_Custom_ respects the action, _habit_ the actor. By custom we mean, a
frequent reiteration of the same act; and by habit, the effect that
custom has on the mind or body. This effect may be either active,
witness the dexterity produced by custom in performing certain
exercises; or passive, as when, by custom, a peculiar connection is
formed betwixt a man and some agreeable object, which acquires thereby a
greater power to raise emotions in him than it hath naturally. Active
habits come not under the present undertaking; and therefore I confine
myself to those that are passive.
This subject is thorny and intricate. Some pleasures are fortified by
custom; and yet custom begets familiarity, and consequently
indifference[24]. In many instances, satiety and disgust are the
consequences of reiteration. Again, though custom blunts the edge of
distress and of pain; yet the want of any thing to which we have long
been accustomed, is a sort of torture. A clue to guide us through all
the intricacies of this labyrinth, would be an acceptable present.
Whatever be the cause, it is an established fact, that we are much
influenced by custom. It hath an effect upon our pleasures, upon our
actions, and even upon our thoughts and sentiments. Habit makes no
figure during the vivacity of youth; in middle age it gains ground; and
in old age it governs without control. In that period of life, generally
speaking, we eat at a certain hour, take exercise at a certain hour, go
to rest at a certain hour, all by the direction of habit. Nay a
particular seat, table, bed, comes to be essential. And a habit in any
of these, cannot be contradicted without uneasiness.
Any slight or moderate pleasure frequently reiterated for a long time,
forms a connection betwixt us and the thing that causes the pleasure.
This connection, termed _habit_, has the effect to raise our desire or
appetite for that thing when it returns not as usual. During the course
of enjoyment, the pleasure grows insensibly stronger till a habit be
established; at which time the pleasure is at its height. It continues
not however stationary. The same customary reiteration which carried it
to its height, brings it down again by insensible degrees, even lower
than it was at first. But of this circumstance afterward. What at
present we have in view, is to prove by experiments, that those things
which at first are but moderately agreeable, are the aptest to become
habitual. Spirituous liquors, at first scarce agreeable, readily produce
an habitual appetite; and custom prevails so far, as even to make us
fond of things originally disagreeable, such as coffee, assa-sœtida,
and tobacco. This is pleasantly illustrated by Congreve:
_Fainall._ For a passionate lover, methinks you are a man somewhat
too discerning in the failings of your mistress.
_Mirabell._ And for a discerning man, somewhat too passionate a
lover; for I like her with all her faults; nay like her for her
faults. Her follies are so natural, or so artful, that they become
her; and those affectations which in another woman would be odious,
serve but to make her more agreeable. I’ll tell thee, Fainall, she
once us’d me with that insolence, that in revenge I took her to
pieces, sifted her, and separated her failings; I study’d ’em, and
got ’em by rote. The catalogue was so large, that I was not without
hopes, one day or other, to hate her heartily: to which end I so
us’d myself to think of ’em, that at length, contrary to my design
and expectation, they gave me every hour less and less disturbance;
till in a few days it became habitual to me, to remember ’em
without being displeased. They are now grown as familiar to me as
my own frailties; and in all probability, in a little time longer,
I shall like ’em as well.
_The way of the world, act 1. sc. 3._
A walk upon the quarterdeck, though intolerably confined, becomes
however so agreeable by custom, that a sailor in his walk on shore,
confines himself commonly within the same bounds. I knew a man who had
relinquished the sea for a country-life. In the corner of his garden he
reared an artificial mount with a level summit, resembling most
accurately a quarterdeck, not only in shape but in size; and this was
his choice walk. Play or gaming, at first barely amusing by the
occupation it affords, becomes in time extremely agreeable; and is
frequently prosecuted with avidity, as if it were the chief business of
life. The same observation is applicable to the pleasures of the
internal senses, those of knowledge and virtue in particular. Children
have scarce any sense of these pleasures; and men very little, who are
in the state of nature without culture. Our taste for virtue and
knowledge improves slowly; but is capable of growing stronger than any
other appetite in human nature.
To introduce a habit, frequency of acts is not alone sufficient: length
of time is also necessary. The quickest succession of acts in a short
time, is not sufficient; nor a slow succession in the longest time. The
effect must be produced by a moderate soft action, and a long series of
easy touches removed from each other by short intervals. Nor are these
sufficient, without regularity in the time, place, and other
circumstances of the action. The more uniform any operation is, the
sooner it becomes habitual; and this holds equally in a passive habit.
Variety in any remarkable degree, prevents the effect. Thus any
particular food will scarce ever become habitual, where the manner of
dressing is varied. The circumstances then requisite to augment any
pleasure and at the long run to form a habit, are weak uniform acts,
reiterated during a long course of time without any considerable
interruption. Every agreeable cause which operates in this manner, will
grow habitual.
_Affection_ and _aversion_, as distinguished from passion on the one
hand, and on the other from original disposition, are in reality habits
respecting particular objects, acquired in the manner above set forth.
The pleasure of social intercourse with any person, must originally be
faint, and frequently reiterated, in order to establish the habit of
affection. Affection thus generated, whether it be friendship or love,
seldom swells into any tumultuous or vigorous passion; but is however
the strongest cement that can bind together two individuals of the human
species. In like manner, a slight degree of disgust often reiterated
with any degree of regularity, grows into the habit of aversion, which
generally subsists for life.
Those objects of taste that are the most agreeable, are so far from
having a tendency to become habitual, that too great indulgence fails
not to produce satiety and disgust. No man contracts a habit of taking
sugar, honey, or sweet-meats, as he doth of tobacco:
Dulcia non ferimus: succo renovamur amaro.
_Ovid. art. Amand. l. 3._
Insipido è quel dolce, che condito
Non è di qualche amaro, e tosto satia.
_Aminta di Tasso._
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite;
Therefore love mod’rately, long love doth so:
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
_Romeo and Juliet, act 2. sc. 6._
The same holds in the causes of all violent pleasures: these causes are
not naturally susceptible of habit. Great passions suddenly raised are
incompatible with a habit of any sort. In particular they never produce
affection or aversion. A man who at first sight falls violently in love,
has a strong desire of enjoyment, but no affection for the woman[25]. A
man who is surprised with an unexpected savour, burns for an
opportunity to exert his gratitude, without having any affection for his
benefactor. Neither does desire of vengeance for an atrocious injury
involve aversion.
It is perhaps not easy to say why moderate pleasures gather strength by
custom. But two causes concur to prevent this effect in the more
intense pleasures. These, by an original law in our nature, increase
quickly to their full growth, and decay with no less precipitation[26];
and custom is too slow in its operation to overcome this law. Another
cause is not less powerful. The mind is exhausted with pleasure as well
as with pain. Exquisite pleasure is extremely fatiguing; occasioning, as
a naturalist would say, great expence of animal spirits[27]. And
therefore, of such the mind cannot bear so frequent gratification as to
superinduce a habit. If the thing which raises the pleasure return
before the mind have recovered its tone and relish, disgust ensues
instead of pleasure.
A habit never fails to admonish us of the wonted time of gratification,
by raising a pain for want of the object, and a desire to have it. The
pain of want is always first felt; the desire naturally follows; and
upon presenting the object, both vanish instantaneously. Thus a man
accustomed to tobacco, feels, at the end of the usual interval, a
confused pain of want, which in its first appearance points at nothing
in particular, though it soon settles upon its accustomed object. The
same may be observed in persons addicted to drinking, who are often in
an uneasy restless state before they think of their bottle. In pleasures
indulged regularly and at equal intervals, the appetite, remarkably
obsequious to custom, returns regularly with the usual time of
gratification; and a sight of the object in the interim, has scarce any
power to move it. This pain of want arising from habit, seems directly
opposite to that of satiety. Singular it must appear, that frequency of
gratification should produce effects so opposite as are the pains of
excess and of want.
The appetites that respect the preservation and propagation of our
species, are attended with a pain of want similar to that occasioned by
habit. Hunger and thirst are uneasy sensations of want, which always
precede the desire of eating or drinking: and a pain for want of carnal
enjoyment precedes the desire of a proper object. The pain being thus
felt independent of an object, cannot be cured but by gratification. An
ordinary passion, in which desire precedes the pain of want, is in a
different condition. It is never felt but while the object is in view;
and therefore by removing the object out of thought, it vanisheth with
its desire and pain of want[28].
These natural appetites above mentioned, differ from habit in the
following particular, They have an undetermined direction toward all
objects of gratification in general; whereas an habitual appetite is
directed upon a particular object. The attachment we have by habit to a
particular woman, differs widely from the natural passion which
comprehends the whole sex; and the habitual relish for a particular
dish, is far from being the same with a vague appetite for food.
Notwithstanding this difference, it is still remarkable, that nature
hath inforced the gratification of certain natural appetites essential
to the species, by a pain of the same sort with that which habit
produceth.
The pain of habit is less under our power, than any other pain for want
of gratification. Hunger and thirst are more easily endured, especially
at first, than an unusual intermission of any habitual pleasure. We
often hear persons declaring, they would forego sleep or food, rather
than snuff or any other habitual trifle. We must not however conclude,
that the gratification of an habitual appetite affords the same delight
with the gratification of one that is natural. Far from it: the pain of
want only is greater.
The slow and reiterated acts that produce a habit, strengthen the mind
to enjoy the habitual pleasure in greater quantity and more frequency
than originally; and by this means a habit of intemperate gratification
is often formed. After unbounded acts of intemperance, the habitual
relish is soon restored, and the pain for want of enjoyment returns with
fresh vigor.
The causes of the pleasant emotions hitherto in view, are either an
individual, such as a companion, a certain dwelling-place, certain
amusements, _&c._; or a particular species, such as coffee, mutton, or
any particular food. But habit is not confined to these. A constant
train of trifling diversions, may form such a habit in the mind, as that
it cannot be easy a moment without amusement. Variety in the objects
prevents a habit as to any one in particular; but as the train is
uniform with respect to amusement in general, the habit is formed
accordingly; and this sort of habit may be denominated _a generic
habit_, in opposition to the former, which may be called _a specific
habit_. A habit of a town-life, of country-sports, of solitude, of
reading, or of business, where sufficiently varied, are instances of
generic habits. It ought to be remarked, that every specific habit hath
a mixture of the generic. The habit of one particular sort of food,
makes the taste agreeable; and we are fond of this taste where-ever
found. A man deprived of an habitual object, takes up with what most
resembles it: deprived of tobacco, any bitter herb will do, rather than
want. The habit of drinking punch, makes wine a good resource. A man
accustomed to the sweet society and comforts of matrimony, being
unhappily deprived of his beloved object, inclines the sooner to a
second choice. In general, the quality which the most affects us in an
habitual object, produceth, when we are deprived of it, a strong
appetite for that quality in any other object.
The reasons are assigned above, why the causes of intense pleasure
become not readily habitual. But now I must observe, that these reasons
conclude only against specific habits. With regard to any particular
object that is the cause of a weak pleasure, a habit is formed by
frequency and uniformity of reiteration, which in the case of an intense
pleasure cannot obtain without satiety and disgust. But it is
remarkable, that satiety and disgust have no effect, except as to that
thing which occasions them. A surfeit of honey produceth not a loathing
of sugar; and intemperance with one woman, produceth no disrelish of the
same pleasure with others. Hence it is easy to account for a generic
habit in any strong pleasure. The disgust of intemperance, is confined
to the object by which it is produced. The delight we had in the
gratification of the appetite, inflames the imagination, and makes us,
with avidity, search for the same gratification in whatever other object
it can be found. And thus frequency and uniformity in gratifying the
same passion upon different objects, produceth at the longrun a habit.
In this manner, a man acquires an habitual delight in high and poignant
sauces, rich dress, fine equipage, crowds of company, and in whatever is
commonly termed _pleasure_. There concurs at the same time to introduce
this habit, a peculiarity observed above, that reiteration of acts
enlarges the capacity of the mind, to admit a more plentiful
gratification than originally, with regard to frequency as well as
quantity.
Hence it appears, that though a specific habit can only take place in
the case of a moderate pleasure, yet that a generic habit may be formed
with respect to every sort of pleasure, moderate or immoderate, that can
be gratified by a variety of objects indifferently. The only difference
is, that any particular object which causes a weak pleasure, runs
naturally into a specific habit; whereas a particular object that causes
an intense pleasure, is altogether incapable of such a habit. In a word,
it is but in singular cases that a moderate pleasure produces a generic
habit: an intense pleasure, on the other hand, cannot produce any other
habit.
The appetites that respect the preservation and propagation of the
species, are formed into habit in a peculiar manner. The time as well as
measure of their gratification, are much under the power of custom;
which, by introducing a change upon the body, occasions a proportional
change in the appetites. Thus, if the body be gradually formed to a
certain quantity of food at regular times, the appetite is regulated
accordingly; and the appetite is again changed when a different habit of
body is introduced by a different practice. Here it would seem, that the
change is not made upon the mind, which is commonly the case in passive
habits, but only upon the body.
When rich food is brought down by ingredients of a plainer taste, the
composition is susceptible of a specific habit. Thus the sweet taste of
sugar, rendered less poignant in a mixture, may, in course of time,
produce a specific habit for such mixture. As moderate pleasures, by
becoming more intense, tend to generic habits; so intense pleasures, by
becoming more moderate, tend to specific habits.
The beauty of the human figure, by a special recommendation of nature,
appears to us supreme, amid the great variety of beauteous forms
bestowed upon animals. The various degrees in which individuals enjoy
this property, render it an object sometimes of a moderate sometimes of
an intense passion. The moderate passion, admitting frequent reiteration
without diminution, and occupying the mind without exhausting it,
becomes gradually stronger till it settle in a habit. So true this is,
that instances are not wanting, of an ugly face, at first disagreeable,
afterward rendered indifferent by familiarity, and at the longrun
agreeable. On the other hand, consummate beauty, at the very first view,
fills the mind so as to admit no increase. Enjoyment in this case
lessens the pleasure[29]; and if often repeated, ends commonly in
satiety and disgust. Constant experience shows, that the emotions
created by great beauty become weaker by familiarity. The impressions
made successively by such an object, strong at first and lessening by
degrees, constitute a series opposite to that of the weak and increasing
emotions, which grow into a specific habit. But the mind, when
accustomed to beauty, contracts a relish for it in general, though often
repelled from particular objects by the pain of satiety. Thus a generic
habit is formed, of which inconstancy in love is the necessary
consequence. For a generic habit, comprehending every beautiful object,
is an invincible obstruction to a specific habit, which is confined to
one.
But a matter which is of great importance to the youth of both sexes,
deserves more than a cursory view. Though the pleasant emotion of beauty
differs widely from the corporeal appetite, yet both may concur upon
the same object. When this is the case, they inflame the imagination;
and produce a very strong complex passion[30], which is incapable of
increase, because the mind as to pleasure is limited rather more than as
to pain. Enjoyment in this case must be exquisite, and therefore more
apt to produce satiety than in any other case whatever. This is a
never-failing effect, where consummate beauty on the one side, meets
with a warm imagination and great sensibility on the other. What I am
here explaining, is the naked truth without exaggeration. They must be
insensible upon whom this doctrine makes no impression; and it deserves
well to be pondered by the young and the amorous, who in forming a
society which is not dissolvable, are too often blindly impelled by the
animal pleasure merely, inflamed by beauty. It may indeed happen after
this pleasure is gone, and go it must with a swift pace, that a new
connection is formed upon more dignified and more lasting principles.
But this is a dangerous experiment. For even supposing good sense, good
temper, and internal merit of every sort, which is a very favourable
supposition, yet a new connection upon these qualifications is rarely
formed. It generally or rather always happens, that such qualifications,
the only solid foundation of an indissoluble connection, are rendered
altogether invisible by satiety of enjoyment creating disgust.
One effect of custom, different from any that have been explained, must
not be omitted, because it makes a great figure in human nature. Custom
augments moderate pleasures, and diminishes those that are intense. It
has a different effect with respect to pain; for it blunts the edge of
every sort of pain and distress great and small. Uninterrupted misery
therefore is attended with one good effect. If its torments be
incessant, custom hardens us to bear them.