Had been most wretched: this to thee may seem I should act thus, it but resembles thee. Antig. Creon. Antig. Like him, she cannot bend beneath misfortune; Yes; 'tis all I wish. To thee as hateful are, as thine to me? Therefore dispatch; I cannot live to do A deed more glorious; and so these would all (pointing to the Chorus] It is the tyrant's privilege, we know, To speak and act whate'er he please, uncensur'd. Creon. Who thinks as thou dost? Antig. Yes, a thousand; these, Francklin's Sophocles. GIFTS AND GIVERS. It is always safe to begin with a definition: in the present instance it is absolutely necessary to do so. Without further circumlocution, therefore, the reader is requested to understand, that by "a gift" is intended a " quiddam honorarium," sometimes employed in the world as a refreshing fee to benevolence; but much more frequently applied to the furtherance of some especial design; and in all cases an indirect mode of obtaining something for the donor, of more value than itself. "Ce qui paroit générosité n'est souvent (says Rochefoucault modestly, for he might almost have said toujours) qu'une ambition déguisée, qui méprise de petits intérêts pour aller à de plus grands." This is the sort of generosity which will be treated of in the present paper. There is nothing by which the true nature of a gift is more clearly illustrated, than by what is called giving a dinner; an act in which charity, or even benevolence, is the very last thing thought of. The calling in of beggars from the highway to a feast is recorded but once in the annals of mankind, and that only in a parable. When a man is about that very serious consideration, the giving a dinner, his first object is usually to captivate the good will of some individual, with whom he desires to carry a point. Candidates give dinners to their electors; the Speaker gives parliamentary dinners to the members; and, if scandalous chronicles do not always lie, times have been, when a five hundred pound bank-bill was given under the guests' plate on such an occasion. Mothers give dinners to eldest sons, when they want them to marry their daughters. Hugging barristers give dinners to attorneys, and rising physicians to apothecaries. The only apparent exception to this rule is found in the cabinet-dinners which ministers give to each other: but these being merely arrangements "for the better carrying on of the plot," are exceptions, and thus should be taken accordingly. Clients often give dinners to their lawyers, as patients do to their physicians, thereby feloniously designing to sponge an opinion. This is an ungenerous and insidious attack which cannot too strenuously be resisted. The late Dr. Willan always advised his young medical friends against lending themselves to such schemes; and the courage and ability cannot be sufficiently admired of that honest attorney who "greatly daring dined" indeed with his employer, but, having done so, made the invitation an item in his bill of costs, and set down "to partaking of a leg of mutton and capers, thirteen and fourpence.* Another important precaution in giving a dinner is the exclusion of all such families as do not give dinners themselves; and such as are at the time in arrear in their repayments. Here the truth comes at once to day; for we openly say that the man who dined with us last, owes us a dinner, thus plainly betraying our sense of the obligation which a diner out contracts, in receiving our gift. The consequences of this notion are so fatal to good society, that if the prejudice were not inveterate, they would long since have led to a more liberal practice. The bringing together people of the most opposite qualities and qualifications, upon the ground of their agreement in the single particular of having discharged all hospitable claims, is the death of a good party; and the frequency of dull tiresome feasts is at once a convincing proof of the prevalence of such sordid ideas, and a faithful interpreter of the genuine signification of the verb " to give." Dinners likewise are given to great persons, for the sake of that credit which their presence reflects upon the host; a transaction in which patronage is set off against patties, and consideration against curries; in which a star purchases the soup, and a title the turbot; while a place under Government gives its owner a legitimate claim to a place for his fect "under the mahogany." Thus it was said by a late noble peeress, of a poor member of her own caste, that his peerage was as good to him as board wages. As to giving dinners to those who want them, to feasting poor dependants, bankrupt friends, and insolvent relations, the thing has become almost obsolete; or if, once a year or so, such an act of silliness occurs, it is done in so unostentatious a manner, as plainly shows that the man is ashamed of the transaction: even then, it is most frequently but a sop to Cerberus, a buying off of detraction, or a purchase from sycophancy of a right to indulge airs with impunity. As it is with dinners, so is it with all other gifts: "you must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to gain by you." The entire world are of the opinion of the ostler of the Elephant and Castle, who demanded payment for a draught of water from his horse-pail, on the special plea, that "nobody gives nothing for nothing." When a tradesman gives credit, let not the debtor imagine that it is " pour l'amour de ses beaux yeux :" it is the hope of an usurious interest that buys the gift. When an old miser gives a penny to a beggar, it is in the desire The result of this transaction deserves recording. The client made a counter demand for meat and drink, which the attorney discharged; but repaid himself by convicting his host in a heavy penalty for selling wine without a licence. of receiving a pound in the kingdom of Heaven. Even the unsophisticated child, in parting with a slice of its own apple, looks to an equivalent "pig" from his playfellow's orange. In the same spirit masters give wages, musicians give concerts, professors give instructions, and the proprietors of hells give Champaign and pine-apples to the punters at their iniquitous tables. The "je tous prête le bon jour" of Moliere's miser is but a type of mankind at large; for not one of them "gives you good-day," without the expectation of at least receiving in return "The same to you." In this sense of the word there are few points of prudence more important than a just appreciation of the where and the when to give; so as, on the one hand not to throw pearls to swine; or, on the other, "not to spoil a ship for a ha'p'orth of tar." The true intent and purpose of generosity is well set forth by Chaucer. "So that the more she yave * awaye, The more, I wis, she had alwaye: Great loos† hath largesse, and great prise, For both wyse folke and unwyse Were wholy to her bandon brought, So well with yeftes hath she wrought."-Romaunt of the Rose. So likewise Charron says, " Qui premier a inventé les bienfaicts, a forgé des ceps et manottes pour lier et captiver autruy." But why appeal to authority? Every man possesses within himself an instinctive feeling of the truth of the position; and no one receives half so many presents as the man, who, having himself much to bestow, does not stand in need of the benevolence of any human being. Look at the Norwich mail, stuffed inside and out with good cheer, with turkeys, and chines, and sausages, &c. &c., on the morning of Christmas-eve, and then take a peep at the directions. Is there so much as one "heaven-directed" goose that strays to the poor-house or the hospital? Are they not all sent to substantial citizens, lords, members of parliament, secretaries, and treasurers? In coincidence with this spirit, the best-endowed parson stands the best chance of obtaining a mitre; the most influential senator, a place in the Excise for his dependants; and the most useful of those dependants, the place so to be disposed of; nay the very immortal gods, who are above all wants, have from the beginning of time been bribed with their own gifts to be rendered yet more liberal: and from the pew-opener, who, in Cromwell's language,§ "pockets the simony, and inducts me into the best seat," to the high priest at the altar, the whole clerical tribe live sumptuously upon this generosity of mankind. As the world improves in civilization, the intent and purpose of gifts becomes more evident; and while presents to the rich multiply, and the word bribe loses the whole odium of its signification, presents to the poor become more and more rare. Thus in our own time we have seen the death of vales to servants, and Christmas-boxes to humble dependants; except in the rare cases in which they may be considered as an act of gratitude for services yet to come. Such is the half-crown given to the porter of a great man to forward a petition; or the guinea སྤྲུལ་ Gave. Laus, Praise. Gifts. § Beaux Stratagem. tossed with a kiss to the pretty maid of a pretty opera dancer, or actress " on sale." He who knows the whole art of giving, is on the broad and primrose path to prosperity. A wise man, therefore, should be on his guard against such over-reaching liberality. Of all the attacks which can be made on the human heart, gifts are the most difficult to resist. They not only go home to our avarice and our sensuality, but to that most treacherous of deceivers, our vanity. It is not, therefore, the value of the gift alone which determines its influence: a shirt button, a brooch, a bauble well applied, will do as much execution as a bill or an ingot. If a gift were, indeed, what it should be, a quid pro quo, there would be no great harm in it. Friendship is but a commerce, in which we look for a percentage of profit; and if a gift were a draft for value received, or to be received, the interchange would be as safe as any other mercantile transaction. But being, as they too often are, only "trifles" (not honest trifles) "to betray us to deepest consequences," like the vile worm which is a bait to catch the valuable fish, they are always to be eyed with suspicion. A prudent man will immediately return them in kind; or what is better still, receive them with a fixed determination of cool ingratitude. The danger of gifts is justly appreciated by the sex; and a wise policy forbids women of character from exposing themselves to the temptation. On this point, if in any, the woman who deliberates is lost. The string of pearls or the lace dress once accepted, she is no longer her own mistress; for how is it possible to doubt the sincerity of a lover, who parts with his money? There is, however, no rule without its exception; and of late years, more especially, women of a certain tone and place in the world have found themselves justified in accepting every thing that is offered, horses, boxes at the opera, convenient loans, without the slightest intention of acknowledging the obligation, and deeming the giver sufficiently honoured by the acceptance of his liberality. These are, indeed, the horse-leeches' daughters, who cry "Give, give!" Their avarice is an insatiable gulf, that is not a whit the more likely to be filled because the donor, like Quintus Curtius, is disposed to throw himself in with the rest. There is nothing that makes men more cautious of accepting gifts than the dread of being reproached with them in the time to come. Certain it is that patrons and benefactors in general are very apt to demand the sacrifice of honour and of principle in return for their favour; yet if justice were done by all parties, it would be found, that for one slave to his gratitude, there are fifty to their expectations. In such cases, however, it is but à frippon frippon et demi; and the ungrateful are as justifiable in overreaching the designing donor, as that saint, who, when the devil by sleight of hand threw sixes in playing for a soul, foiled him at his own game by a miraculous cast of sevens Hence it happens that the most grateful dispositions are scandalized at a giver who recalls his liberality to the donor's recollection; for such conduct is so absolute a reproach, that nobody is tame enough to bear it with equanimity. "Rich men deal gifts expecting in return twenty for one," says Shakspeare; and when poor men make presents, their meaning is pretty much the same. To boast of one's liberality is, therefore, little better than to own oneself an usurer; and who likes to keep company with an usurer, after the scal is affixed? In the East, however behind-hand with Europe in other points of civilization, they have got the start of us in this affair of gifts. There, nobody approaches a great man without a present, which is indeed a retaining fee to purchase his protection; and so well is this understood, that the suitor always endeavours to make it proportionate to the service he expects. Fees and gratuities in our law courts are a remnant of this usage, which migrated westward with so many other social institutions. But unluckily the acceptors being with us somewhat prone to lose sight of Pitt's noble principle of " reciprocity," and falling into that villainous abuse of doing nothing for their money, fees and gratuities have become very distasteful to suitors, and are in a due course of abolishment. In England, the custom of propitiating the great has periodical intermissions; and we are now just past the season in which gifts began to flow in the contrary course. Hams and haunches of venison lately found their way from the mansion and the park to mayors and corporators, fifty-pound notes were addressed to school-houses and hospitals, and the franchise-giving kettle of the potwalloper steamed with unwonted delicacies. Balls were given to the ladies; kisses were given to butchers' wives; butts of porter were given to the mob, and five guineas, more or less, generously slipped into hands, which closed upon them as naturally as if they had never done any thing else. Would that I had but half the money thus given in one county! "Oh! how this villainy doth fat me with the very thought of it!" In one little month might a man have learned as much dishonesty as would serve to corrupt him for a whole lifetime; while, for the small matter of a little perjury and treason to his country, he got as much money as he could spend in a fortnight, and about the fiftieth part of what he must repay in the shape of taxation during the next seven years. This mode of giving is chiefly commendable for the singularity of the gift coming not from the donor but the acceptor. In all other cases a gift is an outlay of capital in expectation of a return of profit; but on the mysterious occasions here alluded to, the receiver very frequently but takes his own; getting nothing but the remnant of what he has been advancing for years. What gulls and dolts are they who do not see through these gifts, "woollen vassals, things created to buy or sell with groats." "A people abandoned to corruption, are abandoned to a reprobate sense, and are lost to all hopes of political salvation." But it is too late in the day to grow serious; so let us change the subject, lest the reader should fancy we were giving-advice; which being a thing strictly worth nothing, should never be given except at its own value, that is gratis. As long as our readers pay for the New Monthly, God forbid we should treat them so servilely as to put them on the footing of paupers, and fob them off with advice. Oh, no! M. * Oldcastle's Remarks on the History of England. |