No. 99. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1751.
_Scilicet ingeniis aliqua est concordia junctis,_
_Et servat studii fœdera quisque sui._
_Rusticus agricolam, miles fera bella gerentem,_
_Rectorem dubiæ navita puppis amat._
OVID, Ex Pon. v. 59.
Congenial passions souls together bind,
And ev'ry calling mingles with its kind;
Soldier unites with soldier, swain with swain,
The mariner with him that roves the main.
F. LEWIS.
It has been ordained by Providence, for the conservation of order in the
immense variety of nature, and for the regular propagation of the several
classes of life with which the elements are peopled, that every creature
should be drawn by some secret attraction to those of his own kind; and
that not only the gentle and domestick animals which naturally unite
into companies, or co-habit by pairs, should continue faithful to their
species; but even those ravenous and ferocious savages which Aristotle
observes never to be gregarious, should range mountains and deserts in
search of one another, rather than pollute the world with a monstrous
birth.
As the perpetuity and distinction of the lower tribes of the creation
require that they should be determined to proper mates by some uniform
motive of choice, or some cogent principle of instinct, it is necessary,
likewise, that man, whose wider capacity demands more gratifications, and
who feels in himself innumerable wants, which a life of solitude cannot
supply, and innumerable powers to which it cannot give employment, should
be led to suitable companions by particular influence; and among many
beings of the same nature with himself, he may select some for intimacy
and tenderness, and improve the condition of his existence, by
superadding friendship to humanity, and the love of individuals to that
of the species.
Other animals are so formed, that they seem to contribute very little to
the happiness of each other, and know neither joy, nor grief, nor love,
nor hatred, but as they are urged by some desire immediately subservient
either to the support of their own lives, or to the continuation of
their race; they therefore seldom appear to regard any of the minuter
discriminations which distinguish creatures of the same kind from one
another.
But if man were to feel no incentives to kindness, more than his
general tendency to congenial nature, Babylon or London, with all
their multitudes, would have to him the desolation of a wilderness; his
affections, not compressed into a narrower compass, would vanish, like
elemental fire, in boundless evaporation; he would languish in perpetual
insensibility, and though he might, perhaps, in the first vigour of
youth, amuse himself with the fresh enjoyments of life, yet, when
curiosity should cease, and alacrity subside, he would abandon himself to
the fluctuations of chance, without expecting help against any calamity,
or feeling any wish for the happiness of others.
To love all men is our duty, so far as it includes a general habit of
benevolence, and readiness of occasional kindness; but to love all
equally is impossible; at least impossible without the extinction of
those passions which now produce all our pains and all our pleasures;
without the disuse, if not the abolition, of some of our faculties, and
the suppression of all our hopes and fears in apathy and indifference.
The necessities of our condition require a thousand offices of tenderness,
which mere regard for the species will never dictate. Every man has
frequent grievances which only the solicitude of friendship will discover
and remedy, and which would remain for ever unheeded in the mighty heap
of human calamity, were it only surveyed by the eye of general benevolence
equally attentive to every misery.
The great community of mankind is, therefore, necessarily broken into
smaller independent societies; these form distinct interests, which are
too frequently opposed to each other, and which they who have entered
into the league of particular governments falsely think it virtue to
promote, however destructive to the happiness of the rest of the world.
Such unions are again separated into subordinate classes and combinations,
and social life is perpetually branched out into minuter subdivisions,
till it terminates in the last ramifications of private life.
That friendship may at once be fond and lasting, it has been already
observed in these papers, that a conformity of inclinations is necessary.
No man can have much kindness for him by whom he does not believe himself
esteemed, and nothing so evidently proves esteem as imitation.
That benevolence is always strongest which arises from participation of
the same pleasures, since we are naturally most willing to revive in our
minds the memory of persons, with whom the idea of enjoyment is connected.
It is commonly, therefore, to little purpose that any one endeavours to
ingratiate himself with such as he cannot accompany in their amusements
and diversions. Men have been known to rise to favour and to fortune,
only by being skilful in the sports with which their patron happened to
be delighted, by concurring with his taste for some particular species of
curiosities, by relishing the same wine, or applauding the same cookery.
Even those whom wisdom or virtue have placed above regard to such petty
recommendations, must nevertheless be gained by similitude of manners.
The highest and noblest enjoyment of familiar life, the communication
of knowledge, and reciprocation of sentiments, must always pre-suppose a
disposition to the same inquiry, and delight in the same discoveries.
With what satisfaction could the politician lay his schemes for the
reformation of laws, or his comparisons of different forms of government,
before the chemist, who has never accustomed his thoughts to any other
object than salt and sulphur? or how could the astronomer, in explaining
his calculations and conjectures, endure the coldness of a grammarian, who
would lose sight of Jupiter and all his satellites, for a happy etymology
of an obscure word, or a better explication of a controverted line?
Every man loves merit of the same kind with his own, when it is not
likely to hinder his advancement or his reputation; for he not only best
understands the worth of those qualities which he labours to cultivate,
or the usefulness of the art which he practises with success, but always
feels a reflected pleasure from the praises, which, though given to
another, belong equally to himself.
There is, indeed, no need of research and refinement to discover that
men must generally select their companions from their own state of
life, since there are not many minds furnished for great variety of
conversation, or adapted to multiplicity of intellectual entertainments.
The sailor, the academick, the lawyer, the mechanick, and the courtier,
have all a cast of talk peculiar to their own fraternity; have fixed
their attention upon the same events, have been engaged in affairs of the
same sort, and made use of allusions and illustrations which themselves
only can understand.
To be infected with the jargon of a particular profession, and to know
only the language of a single rank of mortals, is indeed sufficiently
despicable. But as limits must be always set to the excursions of the
human mind, there will be some study which every man more zealously
prosecutes, some darling subject on which he is principally pleased
to converse; and he that can most inform or best understand him, will
certainly be welcomed with particular regard.
Such partiality is not wholly to be avoided, nor is it culpable, unless
suffered so far to predominate as to produce aversion from every other
kind of excellence, and to shade the lustre of dissimilar virtues. Those,
therefore, whom the lot of life has conjoined, should endeavour constantly
to approach towards the inclination of each other, invigorate every
motion of concurrent desire, and fan every spark of kindred curiosity.
It has been justly observed, that discord generally operates in little
things; it is inflamed to its utmost vehemence by contrariety of taste,
oftener than of principles; and might therefore commonly be avoided by
innocent conformity, which, if it was not at first the motive, ought
always to be the consequence of indissoluble union.
No. 100. SATURDAY, MARCH 2, 1751.
_Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico_
_Tangit, et admissus circum præcordia, ludit._
PERSIUS, Sat. i. 116.
Horace, with sly insinuating grace,
Laugh'd at his friend, and look'd him in the face;
Would raise a blush, where secret vice he found,
And tickle while he gently prob'd the wound.
With seeming innocence the crowd beguild;
But made the desperate passes when he smil'd.
DRYDEN.