A century of English essays : $b An anthology ranging from Caxton to R. L. Stevenson & the writers of our own time
General
A century of English essays : $b An anthology ranging from Caxton to R. L. Stevenson & the writers of our own time
English essays; English literature
It is an unreasonable thing some Men expect of their Acquaintance.
They are ever complaining that they are out of Order, or displeas'd,
or they know not how; and are so far from letting that be a Reason for
retiring to their own Homes, that they make it their Argument for
coming into Company. What has any Body to do with Accounts of a Man's
being indispos'd but his Physician? If a man laments in Company, where
the rest are in Humour enough to enjoy themselves, he should not take
it ill if a Servant is order'd to present him with a Porringer of
Cawdle or Posset-drink, by way of Admonition that he go home to Bed.
That Part of Life which we ordinarily understand by the Word
Conversation, is an Indulgence to the sociable Part of our Make; and
should incline us to bring our Proportion of good Will or good Humour
among the Friends we meet with, and not to trouble them with Relations
which must of Necessity oblige them to a real or feign'd Affliction.
Cares, Distresses, Diseases, Uneasinesses, and Dislikes of our own,
are by no Means to be obtruded upon our Friends. If we would consider
how little of this Vicissitude of Motion and Rest, which we call Life,
is spent with Satisfaction; we should be more tender of our Friends,
than to bring them little Sorrows which do not belong to them. There
is no real Life, but chearful Life; therefore Valetudinarians should
be sworn, before they enter into Company, not to say a Word of
themselves till the Meeting breaks up. It is not here pretended, that
we should be always sitting with Chaplets of Flowers round our Heads,
or be crowned with Roses, in order to make our Entertainment agreeable
to us; but if (as it is usually observed) they who resolve to be
merry, seldom are so; it will be much more unlikely for us to be well
pleased, if they are admitted who are always complaining they are sad.
Whatever we do we should keep up the Chearfulness of our Spirits, and
never let them sink below an Inclination at least to be well pleased:
The Way to this, is to keep our Bodies in Exercise, our Minds at Ease.
That insipid State wherein neither are in Vigour, is not to be
accounted any Part of our Portion of Being. When we are in the
Satisfaction of some innocent Pleasure, or Pursuit of some laudable
Design, we are in the Possession of Life, of human Life. Fortune will
give us Disappointments enough, and Nature is attended with
Infirmities enough, without our adding to the unhappy Side of our
Account by our Spleen or ill Humour. Poor _Cottilus_, among so many
real Evils, a chronical Distemper and a narrow Fortune, is never heard
to complain: That equal Spirit of his, which any Man may have that,
like him, will conquer Pride, Vanity, and Affectation, and follow
Nature, is not to be broken, because it has no Points to contend for.
To be anxious for nothing but what Nature demands as necessary, if it
is not the way to an Estate, is the way to what Men aim at by getting
an Estate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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