AN ESSAY ON CONVERSATION.

AN ESSAY ON CONVERSATION . By Benjamin Stillingfleet . Oderunt hilarem tristes , tristemque jocosi , Sedatum celeres , agilem gnavumque remissi . Hor. Horace, Epistles 1.18, ll. 89f. THE art of converse , how to sooth the soul Of haughty man , his passions to controul , His pride at once to humble and to please , And join the dignity of life with ease , Be now my theme . O thou , whom Nature's hand Fram'd for this best , this delicate command , And taught when lisping , without reason's aid , At the same time to speak and to persuade , WYNDHAM , with diligence awhile attend , Nor scorn th' instructions of an older friend ; Who when the world's great commerce shall have join'd The deep reflection , and the strengh of mind , To the bright talents of thy youthful state , In turn shall on thy better lessons wait . Whence comes it , that in every art we see Many can rise to a supreme degree ; Yet in this art , for which all seem design'd By nature , scarcely one compleat we find ? You'll say , perhaps , we think , we speak , we move , By the strong springs alone of selfish love : Yet among all the species , is there one , Whom with more caution than ourselves , we shun ? What is it fills a puppet-show or court ? Go none but for the profit or the sport ? If so , why comes each soul fatigu'd away , And curses the dull puppets same dull play ; Yet , unconvinc'd , is tempted still to go ? 'Tis that we find at home our greatest foe . And reason good why solitude we flee ; Can wants with self-sufficiency agree ? Yet , such our inconsistency of mind , We court society , and hate mankind . With some we quarrel , for they're too sincere : With others , for they're close , reserv'd and queer : This is too learn'd , too prudent , or too wise ; And that we for his ignorance despise : A voice perhaps our ear shall harshly strike , Then strait ev'n wit itself shall raise dislike ; Our eye may by some feature be annoy'd , Behold at once a character destroy'd : One's so good-natur'd , he's beyond all bearing , He'll ridicule no friend , tho' out of hearing : Another warm'd with zeal , offends our eyes , Because he holds the mirror up to vice . No wonder then , since fancies wild as these Can move our spleen , that real faults displease . When Maevius , spite of dullness , will be bright , And teach ABGYLL to speak , and SWIFT to write ; When Flavia entertains us with her dreams , And Macer with his no less airy schemes ; When peevishness , and jealousy and pride , And int'rest that can brother hearts divide , In their imagin'd forms our eyesight hit , Of an old maid , a poet , peer or cit ; Can then , you'll say , philosophy refrain , And check the torrent of each boiling vein ? Yes . She can still do more ; view passion's slave With mind serene , indulge him , and yet save . But self-conceit steps in , and with strict eye Scans every man , and every man awry ; That reigning passion , which thro' every stage Of life , still haunts us with unceasing rage . No quality so mean , but what can raise Some drudging driveling candidate for praise ; Ev'n in the wretch , who wretches can despise , Still self-conceit will find a time to rise . Quintus salutes you with forbidding face , And thinks he carries his excuse in lace : You ask , why Clodius bullies all he can ? Clodius will tell you , he's a gentleman : Myrtilla struts and shudders half the year , With a round cap , that shews a fine turn'd ear : The lowest jest makes Delia laugh to death ; Yet she's no fool , she has only handsome teeth . Ventoso lolls , and scorns all human kind From the gilt coach with four lac'd slaves behind ; Does all this pomp and state proceed from merit ? Mean thought ! he deems it nobler to inherit : While Fopling from some title draws his pride , Meanless , or infamous , or misapply'd ; Free-mason , rake or wit , 'tis just the same , The charm is hence , he has gain'd himself a name . Yet , spite of all the fools that pride has made , 'Tis not on man an useless burthen laid ; Pride has ennobled some , and some disgrac'd ; It hurts not in itself , but as 'tis plac'd ; When right , its view knows none but virtue's bound ; When wrong , it scarcely looks one inch around . Mark ! with what care the fair one's critic eye Scans o'er her dress , nor let's a fault slip by ; Each rebel hair must be reduc'd to place With tedious skill , and tortur'd into grace ; Betty must o'er and o'er the pins dispose , 'Till into modish folds the drapery flows , And the whole frame is fitted to express The charms of decency and nakedness . Why all this art , this labour'd ornament ; To captivate , you'll cry no doubt , 'tis meant . True . But let's wait upon this fair machine From the lone closet to the social scene ; There view her loud , affected , scornful , sour , Paining all others , and herself still more . What means she , at one instant to disgrace , The labour of ten hours , her much-lov'd face ? Why , 'tis the self-same passion gratify'd ; The work is ruin'd , that was rais'd by pride . Yet of all tempers , it requires least pain , Could we but rule ourselves , to rule the vain . The prudent is by reason only sway'd , With him each sentence and each word is weigh'd ; The gay and giddy can alone be caught By the quick lustre of a happy thought ; The miser hates , unless he steals your pelf ; The prodigal , unless you rob yourself ; The lewd will shun you , if your wife prove chaste ; The jealous , if a smile on his be cast ; The steady or the whimsical will blame , Either , because you're not , or are the same ; The peevish , sullen , shrewd , luxurious , rash , Will with your virtue , peace , or interest , clash ; But mark the proud man's price , how very low ! 'Tis but a civil speech , a smile , or bow . Ye who push'd on by noble ardour , aim In social life to gain immortal fame , Observe the various passions of mankind , General , peculiar , single or combin'd : How youth from manhood differs in its views , And how old age still other paths pursues ; How zeal in Priscus nothing more than heats , In Codex burns , and ruins all it meets ; How freedom now a lovely face shall wear , Now shock us in the likeness of a bear ; How jealousy in some resembles hate , In others , seems but love grown delicate ; How modesty is often pride refin'd , And virtue but the canker of the mind ; How love of riches , grandeur , life , and fame , Wear different shapes , and yet are still the same . But not our passions only disagree , In taste is found as great variety : Sylvius is ravish'd when he hears a hound , His lady hates to death the odious sound : Yet both love music , tho' in different ways ; He in a kennel , she at opera's . A florist shall , perhaps , not grudge some hours , To view the colours in a bed of flowers ; Yet , shew him TITIAN'S workmanship divine , He passes on , and only cries , 'tis fine . A rusty coin , an old worm-eaten post , The mouldy fragment of an author lost , A butterfly , an equipage , a star , A globe , a fine lac'd head , a china jar , A mistress , or a fashion , that is new , Have each their charms , tho' felt but by a few . Then study each man's passion and his taste , The first to soften , and indulge the last : Not like the wretch , who beats down virtue's fence , And deviates from the paths of common sense ; Who daubs with fulsome flattery , blind and bold , The very weakness we with grief behold . Passions are common to the fool and wise , And all would hide them under art's disguise ; For so avow'd , in others , is their shame , None hates them more , than he who has the same . But taste seems more peculiarly our own , And every man is fond to make his known ; Proud of a mark he fancies is design'd By nature to advance him o'er his kind ; And where he sees that character impress'd , With joy he hugs the favourite to his breast . But the main stress of all our cares must lie , To watch ourselves with strict and constant eye : To mark the working mind , when passion's course Begins to swell , and reason still has force ; Or , if she's conquer'd by the stronger tide , Observe the moments when they first subside ; For he who hopes a victory to win O'er other men , must with himself begin ; Else like a town by mutiny oppress'd , He's ruin'd by the foe within his breast ; And they alone , who in themselves oft view Man's image , know what method to pursue . All other creatures keep in beaten ways , Man only moves in an eternal maze : He lives and dies , not tam'd by cultivation , The wretch of reason , and the dupe of passion ; Curious of knowing , yet too proud to learn ; More prone to doubt , than anxious to discern : Tir'd with old doctrines , prejudic'd at new ; Mistaking still the pleasing for the true ; Foe to restraints approv'd by gen'ral voice , Yet to each fool-born mode a slave by choice : Of rest impatient , yet in love with ease ; When most good-natur'd , aiming how to teaze : Disdaining by the vulgar to be aw'd , Yet never pleas'd but when the fools applaud : By turns severe , indulgent , humble , vain ; A trifle serves to lose him or to gain . Then grant this trifle , yet his vices shun , Not like to CATO or to Alcibiades . CLINIAS' son : This for each humour every shape could take , Ev'n virtue's own , tho' not for virtue's sake ; At Athens rakish , thoughtless , full of fire , Severe at Sparta , as a Chartreux fryar ; In Thrace , a bully , drunken , rash , and rude ; In Asia gay , effeminate and lewd ; While the rough Roman , virtue's rigid friend , Cou'd not to save the cause he dy'd for bend : In him 'twas scarce an honour to be good , He more indulg'd a passion than subdu'd . See how the skilful lover spreads his toils , When eager in pursuit of beauty's spoils ! Behold him bending at his idol's feet ; Humble , not mean ; disputing , and yet sweet ; In rivalship not fierce , nor yet unmov'd ; Without a rival studious to be lov'd ; For ever fearful , tho' not always witty , And never giving cause for hate or pity : These are his arts , such arts as must prevail , When riches , birth , and beauty's self will fail : And what he does to gain a vulgar end , Shall we neglect , to make mankind our friend ? Good sense and learning may esteem obtain ; Humour and wit a laugh , if rightly ta'en : Fair virtue admiration may impart ; But 'tis good-nature only wins the heart : It molds the body to an easy grace , And brightens every feature of the face : It smooths th' unpolish'd tongue with eloquence , And adds persuasion to the finest sense . Yet this , like every disposition , has Fixt bounds , o'er which it never ought to pass ; When stretch'd too far , its honour dies away , Its merit sinks , and all its charms decay ; Among the good it meets with no applause , And to its ruin the malicious draws , A slave to all , who force it , or entice , It falls by chance in virtue or in vice , 'Tis true , in pity for the poor it bleeds , It cloaths the naked , and the hungry feeds ; It cheers the stranger , nay its foes defends , But then as oft it injures its best friends . Study with care Politeness , that must teach The modish forms of gesture and of speech : In vain Formality , with matron mien , And Pertness apes her with familiar grin : They against nature for applauses strain , Distort themselves , and give all others pain : She moves with easy , tho' with measur'd pace , And shews no part of study , but the grace . Yet ev'n by this man is but half refin'd , Unless philosophy subdues the mind : 'Tis but a varnish that is quickly tost , Whene'er the soul in passion's sea is lost . Wou'd you both please and be instructed too , Watch well the rage of shining to subdue ; Hear every man upon his fav'rite theme , And ever be more knowing than you seem . The lowest genius will afford some light , Or give a hint that had escap'd your sight . Doubt , till he thinks you on conviction yield , And with fit questions let each pause be fill'd : And the most knowing will with pleasure grant , You're rather much reserv'd , than ignorant . The rays of wit gild wheresoe'er they strike , But are not therefore fit for all alike ; They charm the lively , but the grave offend , And raise a foe as often as a friend ; Like the resistless beams of blazing light , That cheer the strong , and pain the weakly sight . If a bright fancy therefore be your share , Let judgment watch it with a guardian's care ; 'Tis like a torrent apt to overflow , Unless by constant government kept low ; And ne'er inefficacious passes by , But overturns or gladens all that's nigh . Or else , like trees , when suffer'd wild to shoot , That put forth much , but all unripen'd fruit ; It turns to affectation and grimace , As like to wit , as dullness is to grace . How hard soe'er it be to bridle wit , Yet mem'ry oft no less requires the bit : How many , hurried by its force away , For ever in the land of gossips stray ? Usurp the province of the nurse to lull , Without her privilege for being dull ? Tales upon tales they raise ten stories high , Without regard to use or symmetry : So R— , till his destin'd space is fill'd , Heaps bricks on bricks , and fancies 'tis to build . A story should , to please , at least seem true , Be à propos , well told , concise , and new : And whensoe'er it deviates from these rules , The wise will sleep , and leave applause to fools . But others , more intolerable yet , The waggeries , that they've said , or heard , repeat ; Heavy by mem'ry made , and what's the worst , At second-hand , as often as at first . And can even patience hear , without disdain , The maiming register of sense once slain ? While the dull features , big with archness , strive In vain , the forc'd half-smile to keep alive . Some know no joy like what a word can raise , Haul'd thro' a language's perplexing maze ; Till on a mate , that seems t' agree , they light , Like man and wise , that still are opposite ; Not lawyers at the bar play more with sense , When brought to the last trope of eloquence , Than they on ev'ry subject , great or small , At clubs , or councils , at a church , or ball ; Then cry we rob them of their tributes due : Alas ! how can we laugh and pity too ? While others to extremes as wild will run , And with four face anatomize a pun : When the brisk glass to freedom does intice , And rigid wisdom is a kind of vice . But let not such grave fops your laughter spoil ; Ne'er frown where sense may innocently smile . Cramp not your language into logick rules , To rostrums leave the pedantry of schools ; Nor let your learning always be discern'd , But chuse to seem judicious more than learn'd . Quote seldom , and then let it be , at least , Some fact that's prov'd , or thought that's well express'd . But lest , disguis'd , your eye it shou'd escape , Know , pedantry can put on ev'ry shape : For when we deviate into terms of art , Unless constrain'd , we act the pedant's part . Or if we're ever in the self-fame key , No matter of what kind the subject be . From laws of nations down to laws of dress , For statesmen have their cant , and belles no less . As good hear B—y dictate on epistles , Or B—rm—n comment on the Grecian whistles ; As old Obesus preach upon his belly , Or Philcunucha rant on Farinelli ; Flirtilla read a lecture on a fan , Or W—d set forth the praise of Kouli-Kan . But above all things raillery decline , Nature but few does for that task design : 'Tis in the ablest hand a dang'rous tool , But never fails to wound the medling fool : For all must grant , it needs no common art To keep men patient , when we make them smart . Not wit alone , nor humour's self , will do , Without good-nature , and much prudence too , To judge aright of persons , place , and time ; For taste decrees what's low , and what's sublime : And what might charm to-day , or o'er a glass , Perhaps at court , or next day , wou'd not pass . Then leave to low buffoons , by custom bred , And form'd by nature to be kick'd and fed , The vulgar and unenvied task , to hit All persons right or wrong with random wit . Our wise forefathers , born in sober days , Resign'd to fools the tart and witty phrase ; The motley coat gave warning for the jest , Excus'd the wound , and sanctify'd the pest : But we from high to low all strive to sneer , Will all be wits , and not the livery wear . Of all the qualities that help to raise In men the universal voice of praise , Whether in pleasure or in use they end , There's none that can with modesty contend . 'Tis a transparent veil that helps the sight , And lets us look on merit with delight : In others , 'tis a kindly light , that seems To gild the worst defects with borrow'd beams . Yet , 'tis but little that its form be caught , Unless its origin be first in thought : Else rebel nature will reveal the cheat , And the whole work of art at once defeat . Hold forth upon yourself on no pretence , Unless invited , or in self-defence ; The praise you take , altho' it be your due , Will be supected , if it come from you : For each man , by experience taught , can tell How strong a flatterer does within him dwell : And if to self-condemning you incline , In sober sadness , and without design , ( For some will slyly arrogate a vice , That from excess of virtue takes its rise ) The world cries out , why does he hither come ? Let him do penance for his sins at home . No part of conduct asks for skill more nice , Tho' none more common , than to give advice : Misers themselves in this will not be saving , Unless their knowledge makes it worth the having , And where's the wonder , when we will obtrude An useless gift , it meets ingratitude ? Shun then , unask'd , this arduous task to try ; But if consulted , use sincerity ; Too sacred is the welfare of a friend , To give it up for any selfish end . But use one caution , sift him o'er and o'er , To find if all be not resolv'd before , If such the case , in spight of all his art , Some word will give the soundings of his heart ; And why should you a bootless freedom use , That serves him not , and may his friendship lose ? Yet still on truth bestow this mark of love , Ne'er to commend the thing you can't approve . Sincerity has such resistless charms , She oft the fiercest of our foes disarms : No art she knows , in native whiteness dress'd , Her thoughts all pure , and therefore all express'd : She takes from error its deformity ; And without her , all other virtues die . Bright source of goodness ! to my aid descend , Watch o'er my heart , and all my words attend : If still thou deign to set thy foot below , Among a race quite polish'd into show , Oh ! save me from the jilt's dissembling part , Who grants to all all favours , but her heart : Perverts the end of charming , for the fame ; To fawn , her business ; to deceive , her aim : She smiles on this man , tips the wink on that , Gives one a squeeze , another a kind pat ; Now jogs a foot , now whispers in an ear ; Here slips a letter , and there casts a leer ; Till the kind thing , the company throughout , Distributes all its pretty self about ; While all are pleas'd , and wretched soon or late , All but the wise , who see and shun the bait . Yet if , as complaisance requires to do , And rigid virtue sometimes will allow , You stretch the truth in favour of a friend , Be sure it ever aim at some good end ; To cherish growing virtue , vice to shame , And turn to noble views the love of fame : And not , like fawning parasites , unaw'd By sense or truth , be ev'ry passion's bawd . Be rarely warm in censure , or in praise ; Few men deserve our passion either ways : For half the world but floats 'twixt good and ill , As chance disposes objects , these the will : 'Tis but a see-saw game , where virtue now Mounts above vice , and then sinks down as low . Besides the wise still hold it for a rule , To trust that judgment most , that seems most cool : For all that rises to hyperbole , Proves that we err , at least in the degree . But if your temper to extremes should lead , Always upon th' indulging side exceed ; For tho' to blame most lend a willing ear , Yet hatred ever will attend on fear : And when a neighbour's dwelling blazes out , The world will think 'tis time to look about . Let not the curious from your bosom steal Secrets , where Prudence ought to set her seal ; Yet be so frank and plain , that at one view , In other things , each man may see you thro' : For if the mask of policy you wear , The honest hate you , and the cunning fear . Wou'd you be well receiv'd where-e'er you go , Remember each man vanquish'd is a foe . Resist not , therefore , with your utmost might , But let the weakest think he's sometimes right ; He , for each triumph you shall thus decline , Shall give ten opportunities to shine : He sees , since once you own'd him to excel , That 'tis his interest you should reason well ; And tho' when roughly us'd , he's full of choler , As blust'ring B—y to a brother scholar , Yet by degrees , inure him to submit , He's tame , and in his mouth receives the bit . But chiefly against trifling contests guard , 'Tis here submission seems to man most hard : Nor imitate that resolute old fool Ctesipho . , Who undertook to kick against his mule . But those who will not by instruction learn , How fatal trifles prove , let story warn . Panthus and Euclio , link'd by friendship's tie , Liv'd each for each , as each for each wou'd die ; Like objects pleas'd them , and like objects pain'd ; 'Twas but one soul that in two bodies reign'd . One night , as usual 'twas their nights to pass , They ply'd the cheerful , but still temp'rate glass , When lo ! a doubt is rais'd about a word : A doubt that must be ended by the sword : One falls a victim , mark , O man , thy shame , Because their glossaries were not the same . Cou'd Ba—l—y's self more tenderness have shown For his two tomes of words , tho' half his own ? For what remains of failings without end , Morals must some , and some the laws must mend . While others in such monstrous forms appear , As tongue-ty'd sourness , sly suspicion's leer , Free-fisted rudeness , dropsical pretence , Proteus' caprice , and elbowing insolence ; No caution to avoid them they demand , Like wretches branded by the hangman's hand . If faith to some philosophers be given , Man , that great lord of earth , that heir of heav'n , Savage at first , inhabited the wood , And scrambled with his fellow-brutes for food ; No social home he knew , no friendship's tie , Selfish in good , in ill without ally ; Till some in length of time , of stronger nerve , And greater cunning , forc'd the rest to serve One common purpose , and , in nature's spite , Brought the whole jarring species to unite . But might we not with equal reason say , That ev'ry single particle of clay , Which forms our body , was at first design'd To lie for ever from the rest disjoin'd ? Can this be said , and can it be allow'd 'Twas with its powers for no one end endow'd ? If so ; we own that man , at first , by art Was sooth'd to act in social life a part . 'Tis true , in some the seeds of discord seem To contradict this all-uniting scheme : But that no more hurts nature's general course , Than matter found with a repelling force . Turn we awhile on lonely man our eyes , And see what frantick scenes of folly rise : In some dark monastery's gloomy cells , Where formal self-presuming Virtue dwells , Bedoz'd with dreams of grace-distilling caves , Of holy puddles , unconsuming graves , Of animated plaister , wood , and stone , And mighty cures by sainted sinners done . Permit me , Muse , still farther to explore , And turn the leaves of superstition o'er ; Where wonders upon wonders ever grow , Chaos of zeal and blindness , mirth and woe ; St. Dominick , vide Jansenius ( Nic . ) Visions of devils into monkeys turn'd , That hot from hell roar at a finger burn'd ; Of our Saviour and others , vide Ferrand . Bottles of precious tears that saints have wept , Of Joseph , vide Molinaeum . And breath a thousand years in phials kept ; St. Cathro's , vide Colganum . Sun-beams sent down to prop one friar's staff , St Anthony . And hell broke loose to make another laugh ; Vide life of St. Colman by Colganus . Obedient fleas , and The same life by the same author . superstitious mice ; Vide speculum vitae sancti Francisci . Confessing wolves , and St. Munnu gathered those that dropt from him , and put them in their place again , vide Act. Sanctorum . sanctifying lice ; From St. Firman to St. Columba , vide Colganum . Cha pel of Loretto . Letters and houses by an angel carried ; Maria de la Visitation , vide her life by Lusignam . And , wondrous ! virgin nuns to JESUS married . One monk , not knowing how to spend his time , Sits down to find out some unheard-of crime ; Increases the large catalogue of sins , And where the sober finish , there begins . Of death eternal his decree is past , For the first crime , as fix'd as for the last . While that , as idle , and as pious too , Compounds with false religion for the true ; He , courtly usher to the blest abodes , Weighs all the niceties of forms and modes ; And makes the rugged paths so smooth and even , None but an ill-bred man can miss of heav'n . One heav'n-inspir'd invents a frock , or hood : The taylor now cuts out , and men grow good . Another quits his stockings , breeches , shirt , Because he fancies virtue dwells with dirt : While all concur to take away the stress From weightier points , and lay it on the less . Anxious each paltry relique to preserve Of him , whose hungry friends they leave to starve , Harrass'd by watchings , abstinence , and chains ; Strangers to joys , familiar grown with pains ; To all the means of virtue they attend With strictest care , and only miss the end . Can scripture teach us , or can sense persuade , That man for such employments e'er was made ? Far be that thought ! but let us now relate A character as opposite , as great , In him , who living gave to Athens fame , And , by his death , immortaliz'd her shame . Great scourge of sophists ! he from heaven brought down , And plac'd true wisdom on th' usurper's throne : Philosopher in all things , but pretence ; He taught what they neglected , common sense . They o'er the stiff Lyceum form'd to rule ; He , o'er mankind ; all Athens was his school . The sober tradesman , and smart petit-maitre , Great lords , and wits , in their own eyes still greater , With him grew wise ; unknowing they were taught ; He spoke like them , tho' not like them he thought : Nor wept , nor laugh'd , at man's perverted state ; But left to women this , to ideots that . View him with sophists fam'd for fierce contest , Or crown'd with roses at the jovial feast ; Insulted by a peevish , noisy wife , Or at the bar foredoom'd to lose his life ; What moving words flow from his artless tongue , Sublime with ease , with condescension strong ! Yet scorn'd to flatter vice , or virtue blame ; Nor chang'd to please , but pleas'd because the same ; The same by friends caress'd , by foes withstood , Still unaffected , cheerful , mild , and good . Behold one pagan , drawn in colours faint , Outshine ten thousand monks , tho' each a saint ! Here let us fix our foot , hence take our view , And learn to try false merit by the true . We see , when reason stagnates in the brain , The dregs of fancy cloud its purest vein ; But circulation betwixt mind and mind Extends its course , and renders it refin'd . When warm with youth we tread the flow'ry way , All nature charms , and ev'ry scene looks gay ; Each object gratifies each sense in turn , Whilst now for rattles , now for nymphs we burn ; Enslav'd by friendship's or by love's soft smile , We ne'er suspect , because we mean no guile : Till , flush'd with hope from views of past success , We lay on some main trifle all our stress ; When lo ! the mistress or the friend betrays , And the whole fancied cheat of life displays : Stun'd with an ill that from ourselves arose ; For instinct rul'd , when reason should have chose ; We fly for comfort to some lonely scene , Victims henceforth of dirt , and drink , and spleen . But let no obstacles that cross our views , Pervert our talents from their destin'd use ; For , as upon life's hill we upwards press , Our views will be obstructed less and less . Be all false delicacy far away , Lest it from nature lead us quite astray ; And for th' imagin'd vice of human race , Destroy our virtue , or our parts debase ; Since God with reason joins to make us own , That 'tis not good for man to be alone .