Evening at Home 75

Evening at Home 75

Ar._ What was Alexander the Great?

 

_Mr. C._ A great conqueror, but not a great man. It was easy for him,

with the well-disciplined army of Greeks which he received from his

father Philip, to overrun the unwarlike kingdoms of Asia, and defeat the

Great King, as the king of Persia was called: but though he showed some

marks of an elevated mind, he seems to have possessed few qualities

which could have raised him to distinction had he been born in an humble

station. Compare his fugitive grandeur, supported by able ministers and

generals, to the power which his tutor the great Aristotle, merely

through the force of his own genius, exercised over men’s minds

throughout the most civilized part of the world for two thousand years

after his death. Compare also the part which has been acted in the world

by the Spanish monarchs, the masters of immense possessions in Europe

and America, to that by Christopher Columbus, the Genoese navigator, who

could have it inscribed on his tombstones that he _gave_ a new world to

the kingdom of Castile and Aragon. These comparisons will teach you to

distinguish between greatness of character and greatness of station,

which are too often confounded. He who governs a great country may in

one sense be called a great king; but this is no more than an

appellation belonging to rank, like that of the Great Mogul, or the

Grand Seignor, and infers no more personal grandeur than the title of

Mr. Such-a-one, the Great Grocer, or Great Brewer.

 

_Ar._ Must not great men be good men, too?

 

_Mr. C._ If that man is great who does great things, it will not follow

that goodness must necessarily be one of his qualities, since that

chiefly refers to the end and intentions of actions. Julius Cesar, and

Cromwell, for example, were men capable of the greatest exploits; but

directing them, not to the public good, but to the purposes of their own

ambition, in pursuit of which they violated all the duties of morality,

they have obtained the title of _great bad men_. A person, however,

cannot be great at all without possessing many virtues. He must be firm,

steady, and diligent, superior to difficulties and dangers, and equally

superior to the allurements of ease and pleasure. For want of these

moral qualities, many persons of exalted minds and great talents have

failed to deserve the title of great men. It is in vain that the French

poets and historians have decorated Henry the Fourth with the name of

Great; his facility of disposition and uncontrollable love of pleasure

have caused him to forfeit his claim to it in the estimation of

impartial judges. As power is essential to greatness, a man cannot be

great without _power over himself_, which is the highest kind of power.

 

_Ar._ After all, is it not better to be a good man than a great one?

 

_Mr. C._ There is more merit in being a good man, because it is what we

make ourselves, whereas the talents that produce greatness are the gift

of nature; though they may be improved by our own efforts, they cannot

be acquired. But if goodness is the proper object of our love and

esteem, greatness deserves our high admiration and respect. This Mr.

Brindley before us is by all accounts a worthy man, but it is not for

this reason I have brought you to see him. I wish you to look upon him

as one of those sublime and uncommon objects of nature which fill the

mind with a certain awe and astonishment. Next to being great oneself,

it is desirable to have a true relish for greatness.

 

 

 

 

THE FOUR SISTERS.

 

 

I am one of four sisters; and having some reason to think myself not

well used either by them or by the world, I beg leave to lay before you

a sketch of our history and characters. You will not wonder there should

be frequent bickerings among us, when I tell you that in our infancy we

were continually fighting; and so great was the noise, and din, and

confusion, in our continual struggles to get uppermost, that it was

impossible for anybody to live among us in such a scene of tumult and

disorder. These brawls, however, by a powerful interposition, were put

an end to; our proper place was assigned to each of us, and we had

strict orders not to encroach on the limits of each other’s property,

but to join our common offices for the good of the whole family.

 

My first sister (I call her the first, because we have generally allowed

her the precedence in rank) is, I must acknowledge, of a very active,

sprightly disposition; quick and lively, and has more brilliancy than

any of us; but she is hot: everything serves for fuel to her fury when

it is once raised to a certain degree, and she is so mischievous

whenever she gets the upper hand, that notwithstanding her aspiring

disposition, if I may freely speak my mind, she is calculated to make a

good servant, but a very bad mistress.

 

I am almost ashamed to mention that, notwithstanding her seeming

delicacy, she has a most voracious appetite, and devours everything that

comes in her way; though, like other eager thin people, she does no

credit to her keeping. Many a time she has consumed the product of my

barns and storehouses, but it is all lost upon her. She has even been

known to get into an oil-shop or tallow-chandler’s, when everybody was

asleep, and lick up with the utmost greediness whatever she found there.

Indeed, all prudent people are aware of her tricks, and though she is

admitted into the best families, they take care to watch her very

narrowly. I should not forget to mention, that my sister was once in a

country where she was treated with uncommon respect; she was lodged in a

sumptuous building, and had a number of young women of the best families

to attend on her, and feed her, and watch over her health: in short, she

was looked upon as something more than a common mortal. But she always

behaved with great severity to her maids, and if any of them were

negligent of their duty, or made a slip in their own conduct, nothing

would serve her but burying the poor girls alive. I have myself had some

dark hints and intimations from the most respectable authority, that she

will some time or other make an end of me. You need not wonder,

therefore, if I am jealous of her motions.

 

The next sister I shall mention to you has so far the appearance of

modesty and humility, that she generally seeks the lowest place. She is

indeed of a very yielding easy temper, generally cool, and often wears a

sweet placid smile upon her countenance; but she is easily ruffled, and

when worked up, as she often is, by another sister, whom I shall mention

to you by-and-by, she becomes a perfect fury. Indeed, she is so apt to

swell with sudden gusts of passion, that she is suspected at times to be

a little lunatic. Between her and my first-mentioned sister, there is a

more settled antipathy than between the Theban pair; and they never meet

without making efforts to destroy one another. With me she is always

ready to form the most intimate union, but it is not always to my

advantage. There goes a story in our family, that when we were all

young, she once attempted to drown me. She actually kept me under water

a considerable time, and though at length I got my head above water, my

constitution is generally thought to have been essentially injured by it

ever since. From that time she has made no such atrocious attempt, but

she is continually making encroachments upon my property, and even when

she appears most gentle, she is very insidious, and has such an

undermining way with her, that her insinuating arts are as much to be

dreaded as open violence. I might indeed remonstrate, but it is a known

part of her character, that nothing makes any lasting impression upon

her.

 

As to my third sister, I have already mentioned the ill office she does

me with my last-mentioned one, who is entirely under her influence. She

is besides of a very uncertain, variable temper, sometimes hot, and

sometimes cold, nobody knows where to have her. Her lightness is ever

proverbial, and she has nothing to give those who live with her more

substantial than the smiles of courtiers. I must add, that she keeps in

her service three or four rough blustering bullies, with puffed cheeks,

who when they are let loose, think they have nothing to do but drive the

world before them. She sometimes joins with my first sister, and their

violence occasionally throws me into such a trembling, that, though

naturally of a firm constitution, I shake as if I was in an ague fit.

 

As to myself, I am of a steady, solid temper; not shining, indeed, but

kind and liberal, quite a Lady Bountiful. Every one tastes of my

beneficence, and I am of so grateful a disposition, that I have been

known to return a hundred-fold for any present that has been made me. I

feed and clothe all my children, and afford a welcome home to the wretch

who has no other. I bear with unrepining patience all manner of ill

usage; I am trampled upon, I am torn and wounded with the most cutting

strokes; I am pillaged of the treasures hidden in my most secret

chambers; notwithstanding which I am always ready to return good for

evil, and am continually subservient to the pleasures or advantage of

others; yet so ungrateful is the world, that because I do not possess

all the airiness and activity of my sisters, I am stigmatized as dull

and heavy. Every sordid, miserly fellow is called by way of derision one

of my children; and if a person on entering a room does but turn his

eyes upon me, he is thought stupid and mean, and not fit for good

company. I have the satisfaction, however, of finding that people always

incline towards me as they grow older; and that those who seemed proudly

to disdain any affinity with me, are content to sink at last into my

bosom. You will probably wish to have some account of my person. I am

not a regular beauty; some of my features are rather harsh and

prominent, when viewed separately; but my countenance has so much

variety of __EXPRESSION__, and so many different aspects of elegance, that

those who study my face with attention find out continually new charms;

and it may be truly said of me, what Titus says of his mistress, and for

a much longer space:—

 

“Pendant cinq ans entières tous les jours je la vois,

Et crois toujours la voir pour la première fois.”

 

“For five whole years each day she meets my view,

Yet every day I seem to see her new.”

 

Though I have been so long a mother, I have still a surprising air of

youth and freshness, which is assisted by all the advantages of

well-chosen ornament, for I dress well, and according to the season.

 

This is what I have to say chiefly of myself and my sisters. To a person

of your sagacity it will be unnecessary for me to sign my name. Indeed,

one who becomes acquainted with any one of the family, cannot be at a

loss to discover the rest, notwithstanding the difference in our

features and characters.

 

 

 

 

THE GAIN OF A LOSS.

 

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