No. 161. TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15. -incoctum generoso pectus honesto.-PERS. EVERY principle that is a motive to good actions, ought to be encouraged, since men are of so different a make, that the same principle does not work equally upon all minds. What some men are prompted to by conscience, duty, or religion, which are only different names for the same thing, others are prompted to by Honour. The sense of honour is of so fine and delicate a nature, that it is only to be met with in minds which are naturally noble, or in such as have been cultivated by great examples, or a refined education. This paper, therefore, is chiefly designed for those who, by means of any of these advantages are, or ought to be, ac tuated by this glorious principle. But as nothing is more pernicious than a principle of action. when it is misunderstood, I shall consider honour with respect to three sorts of men. First of all, with regard to those who have a right notion of it. Secondly, with regard to those who have a mistaken notion of it. And thirdly, with regard to those who treat it as chimerical, and turn it into ridicule. In the first place, true honour, though it be a different principle from religion, is that which produces the same effects. The lines of action, though drawn from different parts, terminate in the same point. Religion embraces virtue, as it is enjoined by the laws of God; honour, as it is graceful and ornamental to hu man nature. The religious man fears, the man of honour scorns to do an ill action. The one considers vice as something that is beneath him, the other as something that is offensive to the Divine Being. The one as what is unbecoming, the other as what is forbidden. Thus Seneca speaks in the natural and genuine lan guage of a man of honour, when he declares, that, were there nc God to sec or punish vice, he would not commit it, because it is of so mean, so base, and so vile a nature. I shall conclude this head with the description of honour in the part of young Juba. Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings, The noble mind's distinguishing perfection, That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets her, And imitates her actions where she is not, It ought not to be sported with -CATO. In the second place, we are to consider those who have mistaken notions of honour, and these are such as establish any thing to themselves for a point of honour, which is contrary, either a I shall conclude this head. Mr. Addison here applies, and, in applying, explains, his own famous verses, in Cato. The honour, which the Guardian celebrates in the first division of this paper, is true honour: so he expressly calls it; and the false is considered distinctly under the second head. Now true honour, as contrasted to religion, may be well enough given, as it is here, under the idea of philosophical or stoical virtue: but, as opposed to false honour, in the days of paganism, it could only be that principle, which we call a love of honest fame. This last, then, is Juba's honour in his panegyric, as is clear, indeed, from his own words in the close of the scene, where, speaking of Cato, he says "I'd rather have that man approve my deeds, and what Mr. A. has been describing in this paper, under the name of true honour, is pagan virtue itself. It was proper to begin with this observation, because it lets us see in what manner, and to what purpose he applies Juba's panegyric to the present subject. It is as if he had said, What Juba says of true pagan honour, when compared with stoical virtue, holds, in proportion, of stoical virtue, i. e. true philosophical honour, when compared with religion. Each is assistant or supplemental to the other. This being premised, let us now consider the verses themselves. Honour, in these verses, means true pagan honour, and is that principle of human action, which respects honest fame, that is, the esteem of wise and good men: as the virtue celebrated in them, is stoical virtue, which regulates itself by the sense of the honestum simply, or, in other words, by self esteem. These principles are clearly distinct from each other, but may subsist togeth r; and, when they do so, they as clearly draw the same way Hence, we see, that the principle of honour must reeds "aid and strengthen virtue where she is," he who wants it, scarce to the laws of God, or of their country; who think it more honourable to revenge than to forgive an injury: who make no scruple of telling a lie, but would put any man to death that accuses them of it; who are more careful to guard their reputation by their courage, than by their virtue. True fortitude is, indeed, so becoming in human nature, that deserves the name of a man; but we find several, who so much abuse this notion, that they place the whole idea of honour in a kind of brutal courage; by which means, we have had many among us, who have called themselves men of honour, that would have been a disgrace to a gibbet. In a word, the man who sacrifices any duty of a reasonable creature to a prevailing mode or i. e. when it associates with her in the same breast; for it adds its own impulse to that of virtue, and in the same direction. It likewise 99 "Imitates her actions where she is not," i. e. when virtue, properly so called, is not the principle of action; for honour, by itself, prompts to the same conduct, which virtue prescribes. Honour, then, enforcing the virtuous principle, or doing its work, is, either way, a sacred tie, and not to be sported with. Such is the natural unforced reasoning of the poet: and that honour in the ideas of a Roman, was a different principle from virtue, is further manifest, because Rome had temples of both; though the way to the former lay through the latter; by which contrivance was only expressed this moral lesson, that the surest means of obtaining the consentient praise of the good (so Cicero, somewhere, defines true honour) was, first to secure the suffrage of our own hearts. Besides, in fact, these two principles governed, separately, in ancient Rome. Honour was the ruling principle of Cicero's splendid life; and virtue, of Cato's awful one. Whence it may appear, that virtue is the stronger, and steadier principle; but that honour is qualified to be a good second, or even substitute of virtue; that is, in the poet's words, to aid her enthusiasm, or to imitate her actions. The conclusion is, that the learned poet has not violated decorum, in transferring to Juba the ideas of modern times; but has made him speak in the true Roman style, when he distinguishes between honour and virtue: for a distinction, we see, there was; but not the same which our gothic manners have since introduced. The mistake might arise from the poet's calling his honour--the law of kings-that being the common boast of gothie honour. But he only means that public persons are chiefly governed by the law of honour or outward esteem; which of course, is a more obvious, and generally a more binding law, to men so employed, than that of virtue, or self-esteem; the first rule of which is tecum habita-a hard injunction to such as are taken up with the great affairs of the world. fashion, who looks upon any thing as honourable that is displeasing to his Maker, or destructive to society, who thinks himself obliged by this principle to the practice of some virtues and not of others, is, by no means, to be reckoned among true men of honour. a Timogenes was a lively instance of one actuated by false honour. Timogenes would smile at a man's jest, who ridiculed his Maker, and, at the same time, run a man through the body, that spoke ill of his friend. Timogenes would have scorned to have betrayed a secret that was intrusted with him, though the fate of his country depended upon the discovery of it. Timogenes took away the life of a young fellow, in a duel, for having spoken ill of Belinda, a lady whom he himself had seduced in her youth, and betrayed into want and ignominy. To close his character, Timogenes, after having ruined several poor tradesmen's families, who had trusted him, sold his estate to satisfy his creditors; but, like a man of honour, disposed of all the money he could make of it, in the paying off his play-debts," or, to speak in his own language, his debts of honour. In the third place, we are to consider those persons who treat this principle as chimerical, and turn it into ridicule. Men who are professedly of no honour, are of a more profligate and aban doned nature than even those who are acted by false notions of it, as there is more hopes of a heretic than of an atheist. These sons of infamy consider honour, with old Syphax, in the play before-mentioned, as a fine imaginary notion, that leads astray young unexperienced men, and draws them into real mischiefs, while they are engaged in the pursuits of a shadow. These are gene a To have betrayed. It should have been, to betray. ↳ In the paying off his play-debts. He should have said—in the paying off of his play-debts-or, rather, to avoid the offensive sound-of of—in paying off his play-debts, that is, paying should be a participle, properly so called, and not a substantive, as it is, when preceded by the article. rally, persons, who, in Shakespear's phrase are worn and hackney'd in the ways of men;' whose imaginations are grown callous, and have lost all those delicate sentiments which are natural to minds that are innocent and undepraved. Such old battered miscreants ridicule every thing as romantic, that comes in competition with their present interest, and treat those persons as visionaries, who dare stand up in a corrupt age, for what has not its immediate reward joined to it. The talents, interest, or experience of such men, make them very often useful in all parties, and at all times. But whatever wealth and dignities they may arrive at, they ought to consider, that every one stands as a blot in the annals of his country, who arrives at the temple of Honour, by any other way than through that of Virtue. No. 162. WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 16. Proprium hoc esse prudentiæ, conciliare sibi animos hominum et ad usus suos adjungere. CICERO. I was the other day in company at my Lady Lizard's, when there came in among us their cousin Tom, who is one of those country 'squires, that set up for plain honest gentlemen who speak their minds. Tom is, in short, a lively impudent clown, and has wit enough to have made him a pleasant companion, had it been polished and rectified by good-manners. Tom had not been a quarter of an hour with us, before he set every one in the company a blushing, by some blunt question, or unlucky observa tion. He asked the Sparkler if her wit had yet got her a hus band and told her eldest sister she looked a little wan under the eyes, and that it was time for her to look about her, if she did not design to lead apes in the other world. The good Lady |