It is a high Point of Ill Nature and Ill Manners, to make Sport with any
Man’s Imperfections, that he cannot help; and it holds as well too in the
case of our Misfortunes, if we have not brought them upon our selves by
our own Fault. ’Tis enough, where anything of this falls out one way or
t’other, that Providence and Nature will have it so: But Intemperate Wits
will spare neither Friend nor Foe; and make themselves the common Enemies
of Mankind. Men that are given to this Licentious Humour of Scoffing at
Personal Blemishes and Defects, should do well methinks to look into
themselves a little, and begin their Animadversions at Home; for which is
the Greater Scandal, the want of Charity, Modesty, Humanity; or the want
of an Eye? ’Tis the Reasonable Soul that makes the Man, not the Body;
and a Deformity in the Nobler Part is Ten Thousand Times more liable to
Reproche, then an Imperfection in the other. We are not answerable for
our Persons, but for our Manners we are. The Scorner should do well also
to consider upon the Sight of a Cripple, or a Monster, that it was only
the Distinguishing Mercy of Heaven that kept him from being one too; and
not render himself by his Ingratitude the more Abominable Monster of the
Two. The Boy in fine, did very Ill, and if he had but been soundly Whipt
for’t, it would have Perfected the Morality of the Fable.