tions, and is in many cases so impregnable a fence to virtue: what can more undermine morality than that politeness which reigns among the unthinking part of mankind, and treats as unfashionable the most ingenuous part of our behavior; which recommends impudence as good-breeding, and keeps a man always in countenance, not because he is innocent, but because he is shameless? Seneca thought modesty so great a check to vice, that he prescribes to us the practice of it in secret, and advises us to raise it in ourselves upon imaginary occasions, when such as are real do not offer themselves; for this is the meaning of his precept, That when we are by ourselves, and in our greatest solitudes, we should fancy that Cato stands before us and sees everything we do. In short, if you banish modesty out of the world, she carries away with her half the virtue that is in it. After these reflections on modesty, as it is a virtue; I must observe, that there is a vicious modesty which justly deserves to be ridiculed, and which those persons very often discover who value themselves most upon a well-bred confidence. This happens when a man is ashamed to act up to his reason, and would not upon any consideration be surprised at the practice of those duties, for the performance of which he was sent into the world. Many an impudent libertine would blush to be caught in a serious discourse, and would scarce be able to show his head after having disclosed a religious thought. Decency of behavior, all outward show of virtue, and abhorrence of vice are carefully avoided by this set of shamefaced people, as what would disparage their gayety of temper, and infallibly bring them to dishonor. This is such a poorness of spirit, such a despicable cowardice, such a degenerate, abject state of mind, as one would think human nature incapable of, did we not meet with frequent instances of it in ordinary conversation. There is another kind of vicious modesty which makes a man ashamed of his person, his birth, his profession, his poverty, or the like misfortunes, which it was not in his choice to prevent, and is not in his power to rectify. If a man appears ridiculous by any of the afore-mentioned circumstances, he becomes much more so by being out of countenance for them. They should rather give him occasion to exert a noble spirit, and to palliate those imperfections which are not in his power, by those perfections which are; or to use a very witty allusion of an eminent author, he should imitate Cæsar, who, because his head was bald, covered that defect with laurels.C. No. 237.] SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1711. Visu carentem magna pars veri latet. SENECA, in Edip. They that are dim of sight see truth by halves. It is very reasonable to believe, that part of the pleasure which happy minds shall enjoy in a future state, will arise from an enlarged contemplation of the Divine Wisdom in the government of the world, and a discovering of the secret and amazing steps of Providence, from the beginning to the end of time. Nothing seems to be an entertainment more adapted to the nature of man, if we consider that curiosity is one of the strongest and most lasting appetites implanted in us, and that admiration is one of our most pleasing passions; and what a perpetual succession of enjoyments will be afforded to both these, in a scene so large and various as shall then be laid open to our view in the society of superior spirits, who perhaps will join with us in so delightful a prospect. It is not impossible, on the contrary, that part of the punishment of such as are excluded from bliss, may consist not only in their being denied this privilege, but in having their appetites at the same time vastly increased without any satisfaction afforded to them. In these, the vain pursuit of knowledge shall, perhaps, add to their infelicity, and bewilder them into labyrinths of error, darkness, distraction, and uncertainty of everything but their own evil state. Milton has thus represented the fallen angels reasoning. together in a kind of respite from their torments, and creating to themselves a new disquiet amidst their very amusements: he could not properly have described the sport of condemned spirits, without that cast of horror and melancholy he has so judiciously mingled with them! Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high In our present condition, which is a middle state, our minds are as it were checkered with truth and falsehood and as our faculties are narrow, and our views imperfect, it is impossible but our curiosity must meet with many repulses. The business of mankind in this life being rather to act than to know, their portion of knowledge is dealt to them accordingly. From hence it is, that the reason of the inquisitive has so long been exercised with difficulties, in accounting for the promiscuous distribution of good * Parad. Lost, b. ii, v. 557. and evil to the virtuous and the wicked in this world. From hence come all those pathetic complaints of so many tragical events which happen to the wise and the good; and of such surprising prosperity, which is often the lot* of the guilty and the foolish; that reason is sometimes puzzled, and at a loss what to pronounce upon so mysterious a dispensation. Plato expresses his abhorrence of some fables of the poets, which seem to reflect on the gods as the authors of injustice; and lays it down as a principle, that whatever is permitted to befall a just man, whether poverty, sickness, or any of those things which seem to be evils, shall either in life or death conduce to his good. My reader will observe how agreeable this maxim is to what we find delivered by greater authority. Seneca has written a discourse purposely on this subject; in which he takes pains, after the doctrine of the Stoics, to show that adversity is not in itself an evil: and mentions a noble saying of Demetrius, that "nothing would be more unhappy than a man who had never known affliction." He compares prosperity to the indulgence of a fond mother to a child, which often proves his ruin: but the affection of the Divine Being to that of a wise father, who would have his sons exercised with labor, disappointments, and pain, that they may gather strength and improve their fortitude. On this occasion, the philosopher rises into that celebrated sentiment, that there is not on earth a spectacle more worthy the regard of a Creator intent on his works, than a brave man superior to his sufferings: to which he adds, that it must be a pleasure to Jupiter himself * Spect., in folio, for reward, etc. + Vid. Senec. "De constantia sapientis, sive quod in sapientem non cadit injuria." to look down from heaven, and see Cato amidst the ruins of his country preserving his integrity. This thought will appear yet more reasonable, if we consider human life as a state of probation, and adversity as the post of honor in it, assigned often to the best and most select spirits. But what I would chiefly insist on here is, that we are not at present in a proper situation to judge of the councils by which Providence acts, since but little arrives at our knowledge, and even that little we discern imperfectly; or according to the elegant figure in holy writ, "we see but in part, and as in a glass darkly.' It is to be considered that Providence in its economy regards the whole system of time and things together, so that we cannot discover the beautiful connection between incidents which lie widely separate in time; and by losing so many links of the chain, our reasonings become broken and imperfect. Thus those parts of the moral world which have not an absolute, may yet have a relative beauty, in respect of some other parts concealed from us, but open to his eye before whom "past," "present," and "to come," are set together in one point of view: and those events, the permission of which seems now to accuse his goodness, may in the consummation of things both magnify his goodness, and exalt his wisdom. And this is enough to check our presumption, since it is in vain to apply our measures of regularity to matters of which we know neither the antecedents nor the consequents, the beginning nor the end. I shall relieve my readers from this abstracted thought, by relating here a Jewish tradition concerning Moses, which seems to be a kind of parable, * 1 Cor., xiii, 12. |