Part 10

LXXIX. Even with respect to the particular faculty or science men study, they never can get over, or pass beyond the fence rail which nature has placed before them; they read much, converse much, and treasure up a great many species in their memories, but never collect them with any order, or separate and apply them with any judgment or discretion, and never clearly penetrate or comprehend their uses. Thus one of these comes out from his studies, like a learned man that is only skilled in perspective, and capable of fascinating the ignorant vulgar with false lights and shadowings; or such a one as the common people call wells of science, but they are only wells of muddy water, that is of no use or benefit to mankind.

LXXX. This being the case, which it most undoubtedly is, it is very clear and evident, that the faculties they have studied, give them no right or pretensions to the magisterial air they assume on account of the degrees they have taken, and that the insignia or outside marks of those honours and dignities, give them no just reason for affecting, or claiming any authority or superiority, over the rest of mankind. The most provoking part of this matter, and that which heightens the ridiculousness of it to an extreme degree, is, that those who for the most part are under the dominion of this vain presumption, are professors of inferior note; for those who are really ingenious, and men of clear understandings, let themselves be influenced by reason. I repeat again, that the professors of little note, are those who are ostentatiously fond of enlarging the size of their little letters, and of making them all appear like capitals. They are those, who from study extract a great deal of smoke, but little clear or luminous fire. Thus when they mix with the rest of the world, they assume an air of superiority over other men, and say a thousand silly things, with as solemn and grave a face, as if all they articulated were profound apophthegms.

LXXXI. It may be thought that I exaggerate, but I do not; for the reader may believe me when I assure him, that I have known many, nay very many, who without any more merit, than that of having kept their terms at a university for a certain number of years, and of having taken a degree, and being authorized to wear the insignia of academic dignity, treat with contempt every thing that is advanced by a lay man, and behave to him, as if he was a rational animal of an inferior order to himself. In whatever company such a man finds himself, whether the conversation turns upon war, politics, or civil government, he with a ridiculous self-sufficiency, takes upon him to give his opinion, although it is in opposition to that of a man, who may be reasonably supposed to understand these things much better than him. And what does he get by all this? He causes himself to be despised and derided, and to be pointed and laughed at for a blockhead.

LXXXII. I can’t omit mentioning another gross fault, which these men of slender talents are apt to fall into; although it may with truth be said, that it is frequently incurred by people of all classes; which is, being much addicted to criticise and censure the productions or abilities of others, who are better informed than themselves. It is to be sure very laughable, to think of a silly fellow, who runs about calling the rest of the world fools; and to reflect, that he who does not know a word of science, should busy himself with measuring by inches, the scientific talents of other men, which he hardly ever will vouchsafe to estimate by feet or yards, because there are very few instances, in which he will admit their talents to arrive at those dimensions. Thus a bad preacher, will never acknowledge that he has heard a good sermon; a bad taylor, that he has seen a suit of cloaths which were well made; or a bad smith, that he has seen a piece of work that was well executed, &c.

SECT. XVIII.

_Troublesome or ill-timed visits._

LXXXIII. There are some men, who by being over attentive and civil to their friends, become intolerable. I speak of those, who make visiting an employment or occupation, and who are always exercising themselves in that way, as if it was their profession. These are a sort of people, who not knowing what to do with themselves, or how to employ their own time, run about tiring and breaking-in upon the avocations of other people, who are engaged in most honourable and important occupations; they are a sort of robbers of men’s time, who steal from them that, which it is necessary for them to employ in their business; they are a sort of knights errant, whose tongues instead of spears, are ever prepared for attack, and who busy themselves in doing wrongs, instead of redressing them; a kind of dealers in common-place phrases, who go about like beggars from house to house; and who may be termed cheats in good-breeding, and such, as would impose on the world vexation for obsequiousness.

LXXXIV. Those who think to recommend themselves to the good graces of men in power, by a repetition of visits, deceive themselves greatly; for what merit can there be in keeping such a person confined an hour to his room every third day, where he may possibly remain as uneasily, as if he was sitting in the stocks, and be deprived of an opportunity of taking some amusement or recreation he is fond of, or else, of employing that time in some business he wanted to attend to? What most commonly happens in these cases is, that the visitor has no sooner taken leave and turned his back, than the person visited vents a thousand curses on his impertinence; and if there should chance to be any one by to whom he can unbosom himself in confidence, he declares to him, that he never met with a greater savage in all his life.

LXXXV. I feel much for ministers who are exposed to this sort of persecution; for to the heavy load of their office that lays on them, may be added the surcharge of these tiresome visits, the weight of which may possibly sit more burthensome on them, than that of the whole duty they have to do besides.

SECT. XIX.

_Visits to sick people._

LXXXVI. On the head of visits to sick people, there is much to be said, as in making them, we should attend not only to the rules of good-breeding, but to those of charity also; and it is impossible, if we are wanting in the last of these obligations, for us to comply with those of the first. Sick people, both with respect to their souls and bodies, should be treated and dealt by with as much delicacy and caution, as you would handle an exquisitely thin vessel of glass. A sick body is affected by, and sensible of the slightest touch; and an afflicted soul, may be inquieted by such a sensation as cannot be defined.

LXXXVII. Visiting sick people, is not only an act of urbanity, but an act of tenderness and humanity also; but in order to constitute it such an act, it is essentially and absolutely necessary, that the visit should be so managed, and attended with such circumstances, as will afford relief and comfort to the sick person. But how many of these kind of visits are experienced by the poor sick? one may venture to assert, scarce one in fifty. The prudent part of mankind are but few in number, but the visitors consists of many. What effect must his visits have on a sick man, who tires and disgusts one in health with them? Nor is it sufficient, that he who visits a sick person is discreet, if his discretion does not lead to instruct him, when, how much, and in what manner a sick person should be talked to. To know when he should be talked to, the physician, and those who attend him should be consulted; how much, in what manner, and on what subject, must be determined and regulated, by the prudence of the person who visits him.

LXXXVIII. The how much, is the point which visitors most commonly mistake. Sick people should be but little talked to, even although the subject of the conversation is such as they are fond of; for their attention to what is talked of, is apt to fatigue them, and to wade those spirits, which would be better employed in resisting the disease. Thus it in general is better to leave them in that sort of half slumber, and languid quiet of mind, which by not being disturbed or interrupted, permits all the ideas that occur to them to pass easily through the brain.

LXXXIX. With regard to the manner they should be talked to in, it ought to be such, as by no means should inquiet or disturb them; and to prevent their being surprized or alarmed, it will be necessary to talk to them in a low voice. If loud talking is capable of cracking a head of brass, what effect must it have on a glass one? They should not be asked many questions, nor should they as little as possible, be put under a necessity of replying to what is said of them, for from thence there would result two fatigues, that of reasoning, and that of talking.

XC. The subject of the conversation with a sick Person, should in general turn upon such things, as he was observed to be most fond of when in health; for with respect both to the aliments of the soul, as well as those of the body, I am of opinion, that physicians and those who attend on, or visit sick people, should have regard to their appetites and desires, and I am inclined to think, that with respect to these particulars, there are frequent mistakes made, and especially with relation to the aliments of the soul, for by making them grateful to people, there will seldom any inconvenience result, but having regard to doing this, may be attended with much use and benefit. Whenever an epidemical distemper prevails in a town or country, it may not be improper now and then, to talk to sick people on the subject of that disorder; but in doing this, care should always be taken to mention to them only those who have been visited with, and have recovered from the disease; and regard should likewise be had, never to say a word of such as have died of it; but I have known visitors who were such blunderers, as scarce to tell a sick person any other news, than that such a one, or such a one is dead. This tends to make a sick man very unhappy, for according to the logic of his melancholy, he is apt to conclude, that his death must be an infallible consequence of that of the other persons.

XCI. To these general rules, I shall add a remark on two mistakes that are very commonly fallen into by those who visit sick people. The first of these is, their beginning upon their entrance into the chamber of a sick person, if there are three or four of them, to ask him one by one, how he goes on, and how he finds himself. A man had need have the patience of Job, to answer such a number of identical questions. Even in slight illnesses, the pain and uneasiness it gives a man to answer the same string of questions over and over again, is very evident and palpable. Therefore the method people should pursue in their visits to a man who is seriously ill, should be, to ask in a low voice, how he is of those who attend him. Or the expedient may be had recourse to, that was practised by a friend of mine, who was of the same religious order as myself; who when he was once very ill, to avoid this inconvenience, ordered that every morning, there should be written on a piece of paper, all the questions that are generally asked by visitors, together with the answers to them; such as what sort of a night he had had, whether the pain in his head was abated, whether his thirst continued, or whether he had taken any nourishment, &c. This paper he ordered to be stuck with wafers on the side of his chamber door, that those who came to visit him might read it, in order to prevent their fatiguing him with a number of those questions.

XCII. The second mistake, is that of all the visitors taking upon them to be physicians, and to prescribe for the sick person. This is an affectation practised by many; but when we consider, how abstruse and how arduous a study physic is, and how long practice and experience it requires to obtain a competent knowledge of it, and that the greatest ingenuity is found to be unequal to the acquisition; I say when we consider all this, must it not appear very absurd and presumptuous, for every one to pretend to take upon him the office. Thus, whatever a visitor fancies would be serviceable to the diseased person, either as food, or medicine, he is continually teasing the sick man, and vexing the physician with his recommendation of. How often have I seen very prudent and able physicians, much perplexed to determine what they should prescribe; and at the same time, have observed a thousand vain pretenders flourish away, and very self-sufficiently, and much to their own satisfaction, determine off hand, the medicine the patient should take! How many times also have I seen these conceited wrong-headed people, with their importunities, drive an able learned physician out of his course, who had determined, after well considering all the circumstances of his patient, to stand still for a little while, and leave the disease to nature, in order to see which way she would point; but persecuted and overcome by the pressing instances of the people we have been mentioning, he is brought to break this resolution, and to set pen to paper, and prescribe something that he had better have desisted from ordering! These ignorant folks, are ever exclaiming that nature should always be assisted. This is a grand aphorism; and one that all the world pretend to understand; but what such men as we have just mentioned fancy to be assisting nature, is in reality, and most commonly, cutting off her legs and arms.

SECT. XX.

_Visits of Condolence._

XCIII. All those who labour under any great misfortune, may properly be classed among the sick or infirm. Those things which we commonly call diseases, begin with the body, and from thence proceed to affect the soul; but the disease of grief, or sadness, begins with the soul, and from that is communicated to, and infects the body. To the afflicted with grief, all the visitors should act the physician, nor indeed are there any other physicians, who can afford them so much relief. The cure of the passions of the soul, do not appertain to medicine, but to ethics. Thus the discretion of a man who visits an afflicted person may afford him relief, when all the precepts of old Hippocrates can furnish him with none.

XCIV. But what most frequently happens in these cases? why, that the visits of condolence, add a new affliction to him who is already borne down by grief. It is necessary to leave a disconsolate widow, or a man who was exceedingly fond of his deceased wife, for a few days after their loss to themselves, both out of respect to the formalities of the world, and to afford them an opportunity to vent their sorrow. The natural alleviators of great grief, are abundant tears, impetuous sighs, repeated exclamations, and extravagant gestures. None of these can be indulged by any one, while he or she is receiving a visit; for people at such times, are obliged to behave with as much composure, as a person who is acting a serious part in a play; and must confine themselves to expressions of their grief, that are purely theatrical. Their words and their sighs, must issue from them, in form, in order, and according to rule. Their bosoms are oppressed with an ocean of bitterness, and they are only permitted to vent it drop by drop. The doing of which if you consider it, does not afford them the slightest relief; but on the contrary, the violence they put upon themselves to conform to these regular demonstrations of sorrow, is rather an addition to their torment.

XCV. The cruel consequences that result to afflicted people, by denying them the natural breathings of their sorrow, and restraining them from venting their grief by all ways and means, is well explained by Picineli in his simile of a River, which swells the more, the more its course is obstructed, _ab obice crescit_; for so it is, that grief increases by being suppressed, and that the less vent is given to it, the more apt it is to suffocate. _Strangulat inclusus dolor_, said Ovid, who was well versed in these matters.

XCVI. For these reasons, I am of opinion, those who have met with such misfortunes, should for a certain time, be only seen by their relations and most intimate friends, their familiar intercourse with whom, would rather facilitate, than interrupt those burstings of their souls, which relieve the oppressions of their breasts. The visits of such people, should always be accompanied with expressions of friendship, and hearty tenders of kind and generous offers, and especially, when the grief is increased by apprehensions, that the consequences of the loss they have sustained, will be a partial, or total privation of their temporal conveniences. And besides those intimate friends and relations, the visits of some spiritual man, whose character for virtue and discretion is generally acknowledged and confessed, might afford great comfort in affliction, or to speak more properly, the interposition of Divine Providence through him, might administer greater relief in such cases, than could be furnished by the nearest relations, and the most sincere friends. And the best office that could be done to those who are borne down with grief by their friends and relations, might possibly be to procure them frequent visits from men of this character.

XCVII. I would have it understood, that I mean all I have just said, as applicable only to great and real griefs; for truly appearances in these cases are very uncertain and equivocal. If a father, a mother, a husband, or a wife dies, the nearest relation to the deceased party, manifests great tokens of being deeply affected. But who will believe that a husband can be greatly concerned for the death of his wife, who was known to be much fonder of other women than of her? or who can believe that a wife can be really grieved for the death of her husband, who always played the tyrant with her, and treated her like a galley-slave of matrimony? or who that a son can be feelingly affected by the death of a father, whose estate he has long panted to be in possession of? In such instances as these, multitudes of visits of condolence may not be improper; for condolences of compliment, are well suited to mournings of ceremony.

SECT. XXI.

_Letter-writing._

XCVIII. The writing letters with address and propriety, is a very essential part of urbanity, and a matter upon which a great deal may be said by way of instruction; but as the want of this may be supplied, by reading approved books of letters on various subjects, I would recommend to the reader the perusal of those of many eminent men, which have been lately collected and published, by that diligent and pains-taking person Don Gregorio Mayans y Siscar, librarian to his majesty, and professor of civil law in the kingdom of Valentia; and would advise him to read them over and over again with much attention, as the best patterns of letters in our language. With respect to the writing of Latin letters, those who desire to be well instructed in that, should read attentively, those of Don Manuel Marti Dean of Alicant, which have been lately published by the before-named Don Gregorio Mayans in two volumes in octavo; and those of Mayans’s own, which he published in one volume in quarto in 1732. I consider the publication of these books, to have been of the greatest use and importance, on account of the miserable state, to which the writing the Latin language was reduced in Spain, and especially with respect to the familiar or epistolary stile. How often have I experienced, that whenever it became necessary for a religious society or community, to write a Latin letter to Rome, or some other foreign kingdom, that there were very few men to be found among them, who were capable of doing it, unless it was in Latin stuffed full of Hispanisims? And whenever it became necessary for them to converse in Latin with any stranger, they seemed as much at a loss, and as much embarrassed, as if they had been obliged to talk to him in Arabic.

XCIX. People are apt to run into the same error in writing multitudes of letters, that they are in paying too many visits; as letters may be termed a sort of visits in writing. Numbers of people are addicted to this fault, and their reason for committing it is, that they are in hopes by this means, to recommend themselves to the good graces of those they write to; but nothing can be more absurd or ridiculous, than thinking, that by being troublesome to people, you will gain their esteem and affection; whereas the commission of this fault, is most commonly attended with a quite opposite effect; and I have seen many, who by the frequency of their letters, have lost the good-will of those who had a regard for them, and whose friendship they would have continued to possess, but for their teasing them with a superfluous repetition of letters. There are not a few, who write these sort of letters, for the sake afterwards of feeding their own vanity by shewing the answers to them, in order to manifest that they are esteemed by, and honoured with the correspondence of persons of distinction. These are not only troublesome to those they write to, but to those also to whom they shew the answers to their letters; and what most commonly happens is, that instead of making themselves appear respectable by doing this, they cause themselves to be despised, and to look ridiculous; for there is scarce any one who does not regard with contempt, a man that runs about from company to company reading and shewing his letters, like a bad poet, who is always troubling his friends with a repetition of his verses.

C. But what remedy is there for these impertinences? why no other, but disregarding, and not giving answers to such letters. Oh! but this would shew want of urbanity; no it would not, for I assert, that so far from it, it would manifest much discretion; and I consider any man who maintains a contrary opinion, to be under a great mistake. There is no one who thinks it shews want of urbanity, to deny your being at home to a man who persecutes you with troublesome visits. Why then should it be thought that a man is wanting in this respect, who returns no answer to these sort of letters? It is very likely, that the writer of them will be much concerned and affected at not having answers to them; but if I can cure an indisposition I labour under, by making the person who brought it upon me, swallow the bitter draught that it may be necessary should be taken to accomplish that end, instead of my taking it myself, why should not I avail myself of such a remedy? In short, in cases of this sort, it is impossible to adopt any other method than that of giving no answer to these kind of letters; for attempting to do otherwise, would be attempting more than a man who receives great numbers of such letters could find leisure to execute; for I can safely declare with respect to myself, that if I had not taken a resolution not to answer all the letters I received, my whole time would not have been sufficient to write those answers, nor my whole fortune, to pay the postage of those that would have been addressed to me.

A DEFENCE OR VINDICATION OF THE WOMEN.

SECT. I.