VI.

WHO ARE RELUCTANT TO KNOW THE CHARACTERS

OF MEN.

BRUTUS and Trebonius seem not to have known the character of Anthony so well as Cassius.

BRUTUS. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him;
For he is given

To sports, to wildness, and much company.

TREBONIUS. There is no fear in him; let him not die;
For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter.'

Brutus imagined, that as Anthony was given to wildness and company, he could have little desire to become a politician; and Trebonius seems to have thought so too. Brutus was one of those, who learn men late, and political prudence never. The Duke of Marlborough, too, was, in some degree, allied to this order. The 'Duke of Shrewsbury has it in his power,' wrote his Grace to the duchess, to do a great deal of hurt; but 'I am of the humour not to believe the hundredth part ' of what is said of any body; so that I may be easily 'imposed upon.'

Anthony, first Earl of Shrewsbury, used to keep notes of whatever he learnt from others, in a book, alphabetically arranged; in consequence of which he acquired, after some years' trial, the most perfect knowledge of character of any man of his time, abroad or at home. Some, on the other hand, are exceedingly reluctant to know the characters of men; and I was one of this number once myself. I became acquainted with mankind late. All was foreground; there was no perspec

tive. Till the age of five-and-thirty I would not see. I shut my eyes willingly; nay, zealously. I was ashamed of what I heard, and alarmed at what I read. Circumstances, at length, compelled me to remove the shade from before my eyes. I drew the veil, summoned resolution, looked forward, backward, and on each side, and these pages are the results of the experience I have acquired. I am now five-and-fifty, and could wish, in some respects, to return to my former ignorance.

6 Taught by melancholy proof,

I, from the blind and faithless world aloof,
(Nor fear its envy, nor desire its praise,)

Would choose my path through solitary ways.'

Michael Angelo-Duppa.

Some years ago, say, I cared but little to inquire

into the characters of men or of women. I could hear little good of any one; but evil, as much as would satisfy a man of moderation for breakfast, dinner, tea, supper, and dreams. The catalogue of follies, vices, and even crimes, indeed, seemed amply abundant for a folio, printed small, divided into chapters and sections, with notes, sub-notes, commentaries, and illustrations of a thousand pages; virtues were dwarfs; vices and crimes

giants.

When I became a man, and enjoyed the satisfaction of having a house, servants, and horses of my own, I made two laws;-first, to allow no idle tittle-tattle; secondly, in humble imitation of Cato the elder, I would permit the name of no one, who had injured me, in word or in deed, to be mentioned, unless in cases of absolute necessity.

The principle of all this was good; but practice is better than precept. I found by this, that I lost no small share of indispensably necessary information. I then resolved to hear as well as to see. Armed with this resolution, I gradually acquired the art of listening, not only to good but to evil, with some degree of patience; and having at last discovered, that in wise men there is some folly, and in bad men some virtue, I listened and heard with no small share of philosophy. I have lived in villages, in small towns, and in large cities. I have lived in a country almost as barren as Arabia Petræa; I have lived in scenes worthy the pencil of a Claude, or the pen of a Radcliffe; and what knowledge have I gained?-that, if we would fully appreciate the beauties of a fine country, or fully console ourselves for the deformity of a barren one, we must know the intimate history of few or none of its inhabitants.

When persons are favourites with us, we are apt to make out their characters just as we wish. We are afterwards, perhaps, made ten years older in experience by a word or a look. Our eyes are opened in a manner we could never have conceived; yet, in youth, what parent would be willing that his child should part early with so amiable, though so delusive, a propensity? Is it not one of the best buds of youth?

VII.

WHOSE EYES ARE OPENED AGAINST THEIR WILL.

COUNT STRUENSEE confessed to Dr. Munter, that his unbelief and aversion to religion arose out of a superficial knowledge of religion on one side, and, on the other, a great disinclination to obey its precepts; with a readiness to entertain every objection which could be discovered against it.

It is certain that knowledge lessens the purity of innocence in some, and corrupts the sources of action. In others it is directly the reverse. The more they know, the wiser they appreciate; the better they act.

Many men's eyes, ears, and understandings, are opened much against their wills. They cannot dream at forty, or even at five-and-thirty, as they were wont to dream. They cannot hope as they hoped formerly; their very wishes undergo a revolution; and if misfortunes have overtaken them, the hopes and the wishes have greater reference to the past than to the future. Experience has pulled the film from their eyes, and anointed them, as it were, with euphrasie and rue.' Alphonso-thou art young, innocent, and inexperienced. I would that I could exchange my practice and experience for your innocence; but if the world must remain as it is, I would not exchange my comparative age even for the brilliancy of your comparative youth.

I am tired of waiting for the chemic gold,

Which fools us young, and beggars us when old.'

Dryden.

Hughes, when only twenty-four, wrote an essay 'On the pleasure of being deceived;' which is, though forgotten, really worth reading. But if you would know, my friend, the instability of all things from reading, rather than from experience, consult the tablet of Cebes, and the dialogue, ' De tranquillitate animi,' by Florentius Volusenus. My eyes have been opened much against my will; though I cannot, thank Heaven! bear evidence to the assertion of Camoëns :

'What is there left in this vain world to crave,

To love, to see, more than I yet have seen?

Still wearying cares, disgusts, and coldness, spleen,
Hate and despair, and Death, whose banners wave
Alike o'er all.'

Camoëns, sonnet xcii. Roscoe.

In the midst of this,—if indeed the picture is allowed to be faithful,—it cannot be denied, that belief, even of error, is, in a variety of instances, one of the chief enjoyments, of which the human heart is richly susceptible.

VIII.

WHO HAVE A CONTEMPT FOR MANKIND.

SOME writers have indulged in passages more than justly expressive of their contempt for mankind. Thus, Horace,

-'Audax omnia perpeti

Gens humana ruit per vetitum et nefas.'

Indeed, so great was the depravity in the times of Augustus, that Horace seems to have thought that he, who had many vices and no crimes, was safe.