How can we expect that another should keep our secret, when it is more than we can do ourselves? We are so prepossessed in our own favor, that we often mistake for virtues those vices that have some resemblance to them, and which are artfully disguised by self-love. Nothing is so capable of diminishing our self-love as the observation that we disapprove at one time of what we approve at another. Self-love never reigns so absolutely as in the passion of love : we are always ready to sacrifice the peace of those we adore, rather than lose the least part of our own. The self-love of some people is such, that, when in love, they are more taken up with their passion than its object. A desire to talk of ourselves, and to set our faults in whatever light we choose, makes the main of our sincerity. We commonly slander more through vanity than malice. The health of the soul is as precarious as that of the body; for when we seem secure from passions, we are no less in danger of their infection than we are of falling ill, when we appear to be well. There are relapses in the distempers of the soul, as well as in those of the body; thus we often mistake for a cure what is no more than an intermission, or a change of disease. The flaws of the soul resemble the wounds of the body; the scar always appears, and they are in danger of breaking open again. The excessive pleasure we find in talking of ourselves ought to make us apprehensive that it gives but little to our auditors. We had rather speak ill of ourselves than not speak at all. We give up our interest sooner than our taste. Our self-love bears with less patience the condemnation of our taste than of our opinion. Our enemies, in their judgment of us, come nearer the truth than we do ourselves. Perfect valor and perfect cowardice are extremes men seldom arrive at. The intermediate space is prodigious, and contains all the different species of courage, which are as various as men's faces and humors. There are those who expose themselves boldly at the beginning of an action; and who slacken and are disheartened at its duration. There are others who aim only at preserving their honor, and do little more. Some are not equally exempt from fear at all times alike. Others give occasionally into a general panic: others advance to the charge because they dare not stay in their posts. There are men whom habitual small dangers encourage, and fit for greater. Some are brave with the sword, and fear bullets; others defy bullets, and dread a sword. All these different kinds of valor agree in this, that night, as its augments fear, so it conceals good or bad actions, and gives every one the opportunity of sparing himself. There is also another more general discretion for we find those who do most, would do more still, were they sure of coming off safe so that it is very plain that the fear of death gives a damp to courage. : : Perfect valor consists in doing without witnesses all we should be capable of doing before the whole world. Most men sufficiently expose themselves in war to save their honor, but few so much as is necessary even to succeed in the design for which they thus expose themselves. No man can answer for his courage who has never been in danger. A wise man had rather avoid an engagement than conquer. It is our own vanity that makes the vanity of others intolerable. If vanity really overturns not the virtues, it certainly makes them totter. The most violent passions have their intermissions: vanity alone gives us no respite. The reason why the pangs of shame and jealousy are so sharp, is this vanity gives us no assistance in supporting them. Vanity makes us do more things against inclination than reason. When our vices have left us, we flatter ourselves that we have left them. It is a common fault to be never satisfied with our fortune, nor dissatisfied with our understanding. The mind, between idleness and constancy, fixes on what is easy and agreeable to it. This habit always sets bounds to our inquiries. No man was ever at the trouble to stretch his genius as far as it would go. Most women yield more through weakness than passion; whence it happens that enterprising, rather than amiable, men commonly succeed best with them. In their first desires women love the lover, afterwards the passion. THE MANLY HEART. BY GEORGE WITHER. [1588-1667.] SHALL I, wasting in despair, Or my cheeks make pale with care Be she fairer than the day What care I how fair she be? Shall my foolish heart be pined If she be not so to me What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? Or her merit's value known Make me quite forget mine own? Be she with that goodness blest 'Cause her fortune seems too high, Think what with them they would do And unless that mind I see, What care I though great she be? Great or good, or kind or fair, What care I for whom she be? SENTIMENTS BY JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE. [JEAN DE LA BRUYÈRE, French moralist and satirist, was born at Paris in 1645, studied law, and for some years filled an administrative position in Normandy. Through Bossuet's influence he was appointed tutor to the young Duke of Bourbon, grandson of the great Condé, and remained attached to the house of Condé until his death at Versailles in May, 1696. In 1693 he was admitted to the French Academy. His "Caractères de Théophraste" (1688) was written in imitation of Theophrastus, and consisted of maxims, reflections, and character portraits of men and women of his own day. The ninth edition, containing over eleven hundred "caractères," was in press at the time of La Bruyère's death. In the “Dialogues on Quietism,” a severe attack is made on Fénelon.] FRIENDSHIP may exist between a man and a woman, quite apart from any influence of sex. Yet a woman always looks upon a man, and so a man regards a woman. This intimacy is neither pure friendship nor pure love. It is a sentiment which stands alone. Love is born suddenly, without deliberation, either through temperament or weakness: some grace or beauty attracts, determines us. Friendship, on the contrary, grows by degrees How many through time and long familiar acquaintance. years of affection, kindness, and good service it takes to do what a lovely face or a beautiful hand will often do in a moment! Time, which strengthens friendship, weakens love. Perfect friendship is more rare than excessive love. We never love truly except once, and that is the first time. The attachments which succeed are more voluntary. Sudden love lasts longest. He who loves so passionately that he wishes he could love a thousand times more than he loves already, yields only to him who loves more than he would love. Granted that in the intensity of a great passion it is possible to love another more than one's self, who has the truest pleasure - he who loves, or he who is beloved? He who loves deeply finds a sweet revenge in acting so that his beloved one shall appear ungrateful. Hatred is not so remote from friendship as antipathy. In friendship we confide our secrets: in love they escape us. In friendship we perceive only those faults which may be prejudicial to our friends; in those we love we see no faults, except those from which we suffer ourselves. Friendship does not cool without cause; love diminishes for no other reason than that we have been too well beloved. The beginning, as the end, of love is manifested by our anxiety to be alone. Our desire is that all the good fortune of those we love, or, if that is impossible, all their evil fortune, should come to them from our hands. It is happier by comparison to mourn one we love than to live with one we hate. However disinterested we may be with regard to those we love, we must sometimes force ourselves to give them pleasure by accepting their gifts. He who is capable of receiving a gift delicately displays as much generosity as he who gives. |