I.

PART upon this account that the moft dreadful calamities are not always thofe which it is moft difficult to fupport. It is often more mortifying to appear in public under fmall difafters, than under great misfortunes. The firft excite no fympathy; but the fecond, though they may excite none that approaches to the anguish of the fufferer, call forth, however, a very lively compaffion. The fentiments of the fpectators are, in this laft cafe, lefs wide of thofe of the fufferer, and their imperfect fellow-feeling lends him fome affiftance in fupporting his mifery. Before a gay affembly, a gentleman would be more mortified to appear covered with filth and rags than with blood and wounds. This laft fituation would intereft their pity; the other would provoke their laughter. The judge who orders a criminal to be fet in the pillory, dif honours him more than if he had condemned him to the fcaffold. The great prince, who, fome years ago, caned a general officer at the head of his army, difgraced him irrecoverably. The punishment would have been much lefs had he shot him through the body. By the laws of honour, to strike with a cane difhonours, to ftrike with a fword does not, for an obvious reafon. Thofe flighter punishments, when inflicted on a gentleman, to whom dishonour is the greatest of all evils, come to be regarded among a humane and generous people, as the moft dreadful of any. With regard to perfons of that rank, therefore, they are univerfally laid afide, and the law, while it takes their life upon

many

III.

many occafions, refpects their honour upon s E c T. almost all. To fcourge a perfon of quality, or to fet him in the pillory, upon account of any crime whatever, is a brutality of which no European government, except that of Ruffia, is capable.

A brave man is not rendered contemptible by being brought to the scaffold; he is, by being fet in the pillory. His behaviour in the one fituation may gain him universal esteem and admiration. No behaviour in the other can render him agreeable. The fympathy of the fpectators fupports him in the one cafe, and faves him from that fhame, that confcioufnefs that his mifery is felt by himself only, which is of all fentiments the most unfupportable. There is no fympathy in the other; or, if there is any, it is not with his pain, which is a trifle, but with his confcioufnefs of the want of fympathy with which this pain is attended. It is with his shame, not with his forrow. Those who pity him, blush and hang down their heads for him. He droops in the fame manner, and feels himfelf irrecoverably degraded by the punishment, though not by the crime. The man, on the contrary, who dies with refolution, as he is naturally regarded with the erect aspect of esteem and approbation, fo he wears himself the fame undaunted countenance; and, if the crime does not deprivé him of the refpect of others, the punishment never will. He has no fufpicion that his fituation is the object of contempt or derifion to any body, and he can, with

VOL. I.

H

pro

I.

PART propriety, affume the air, not only of perfect ferenity, but of triumph and exultation.

"Great dangers," fays the Cardinal de Retz, "have their charms, because there is fome "glory to be got, even when we miscarry. "But moderate dangers have nothing but what "is horrible, because the lofs of reputation "always attends the want of fuccefs." His maxim has the fame foundation with what we have been just now obferving with regard to punishments.

Human virtue is fuperior to pain, to poverty, to danger, and to death; nor does it even require its utmost efforts to despise them. But to have its mifery expofed to infult and derifion, to be led in triumph, to be fet up for the hand of fcorn to point at, is a fituation in which its conftancy is much more apt to fail. Compared with the contempt of mankind, all other external evils are easily supported.

CHAP. III.

Of the corruption of our moral fentiments, which is occafioned by this difpofition to admire the rich and the great, and to defpife or neglect perfons of poor and mean condition.

THIS difpofition to admire, and almost to

worship, the rich and the powerful, and to defpife, or, at leaft, to neglect perfons of

poor

III.

poor and mean condition, though neceffary both s E c T. to eftablish and to maintain the diftinction of ranks and the order of fociety, is, at the fame time, the great and moft univerfal caufe of the corruption of our moral fentiments. That wealth and greatnefs are often regarded with the respect and admiration which are due only to wifdom and virtue; and that the contempt, of which vice and folly are the only proper objects, is often most unjustly bestowed upon poverty and weakness, has been the complaint of moralifts in all ages.

We defire both to be refpectable and to be refpected. We dread both to be contemptible and to be contemned. But, upon coming into the world, we foon find that wisdom and virtue are by no means the fole objects of refpect; nor vice and folly, of contempt. We frequently see the respectful attentions of the world more ftrongly directed towards the rich and the great, than towards the wife and the virtuous. We fee frequently the vices and follies of the powerful much lefs defpifed than the poverty and weakness of the innocent. To deferve, to acquire, and to enjoy the respect and admiration of mankind, are the great objects of ambition and emulation. Two different roads are prefented to us, equally leading to the attainment of this fo much defired object; the one, by the study of wisdom and the practice of virtue; the other, by the acquifition of wealth and greatnefs. Two different characters are prefented to our emulation; the one, of proud ambition

H 2

I.

PART ambition and oftentatious avidity; the other, of humble modefty and equitable juftice. Two different models, two different pictures, are held out to us, according to which we may fashion our own character and behaviour; the one more gaudy and glittering in its colouring; the other more correct and more exquifitely beautiful in its outline: the one forcing itself upon the notice of every wandering eye; the other, attracting the attention of scarce any body but the most studious and careful obferver. They are the wife and the virtuous chiefly, a felect, though, I am afraid, but a small party, who are the real and fteady admirers of wisdom and virtue. The great mob of mankind are the admirers and worshippers, and, what may seem more extraordinary, moft frequently the difinterested admirers and worshippers, of wealth and greatnefs.

The refpect which we feel for wisdom and virtue is, no doubt, different from that which we conceive for wealth and greatness; and it requires no very nice difcernment to distinguish the difference. But, notwithstanding this difference, thofe fentiments bear a very confiderable refemblance to one another. In fome particular features they are, no doubt, different, but, in the general air of the countenance, they feem to be fo very nearly the fame, that inattentive obfervers are very apt to mistake the one for the other.

In equal degrees of merit there is fcarce any man who does not refpect more the rich and