No wonder then that this malignant cursed disposition, which is the disgrace of human nature, and the bane of society, should be spoken against, with such remarkable bitterness, by the benevolent author of our religion, particularly in the thirty-third verse of the above-cited chapter of St. Matthew.
Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?
Having now despatched the inside of this character, and, as I apprehend, said enough to make any one avoid, I am sure sufficient to make a Christian detest it, nothing remains but to examine the outside, in order to furnish honest men with sufficient rules to discover it. And in this we shall have the same Divine guide whom we have in the former part followed.
First then, Beware of that sanctified appearance, “that whited sepulchre, which looks beautiful outward, and is within full of all uncleanness. Those who make clean the outside of the platter, but within are full of extortion and excess.”
Secondly, Look well to those “who bind heavy burdens, and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.”
“These heavy burdens (says Burket) were counsels and directions, rules and canons, austerities and severities, whiclO the Pharisees introduced and imposed upon their hearers.” This requires no farther comment; for as I have before said, these hypocrites place all virtue, and all religion, in the observation of those austerities and severities, without which the truest and purest goodness will never receive their commendation; but how different this doctrine is from the temper of Christianity may be gathered by that total of all Christian morality with which Josus sums up the excellent precepts delivered in His divine sermon: “ Therefore, do unto all men as ye would they should do unto you: for this is the law and the prophets Thirdly, Beware of all ostentation of virtue, goodness, or piety. By this ostentation I mean that of the countenance and the mouth, or of some external forms. And, this, T apprehend, is the meaning of Jesus, where He says, “They do their works to be seen of men,” as appears by the context; “they make broad their phylacterics, and enlarge the borders of their garments.” These phylacterics were certain scrolls of parchment, whereon were written the ten commandments, and particular parts of the Mosaic law, which they ostentatiously wore on their garments, thinking by that ceremony to fulfil the precept delivered to them in a verse of Deuteronomy, though they neglected to fulfil the laws they wore thus about them.
Another instance of their ostentation was— “making long prayers, i e. (says Burket) making long prayers (or, perhaps, pretending to make them) in the temples and synagogues for widows, and thereupon persuading them to give bountifully to the corban, or the common treasure of the temple,-some part of which was employed for their maintenance. Learn, 1. It is no new thing for designing hypocrites to cover the foulest transgression with the cloak of religion. The Pharisees make long prayers a cover for their covetousness. 2. That to make use of religion in polic}r, for worldly advantage’s sake, is the way to be damned with a vengeance for religion’s sake.”
Again says Jesus— “in paying tithe of mint and anise and cummin, while they omit the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith.” By which we are not to understand (nor would I be understood so to mean) any inhibition of paying the priest his dues; but, as my commentator observes, “an ostentation of a precise keeping the law in smaller matters, and neglecting weightier duties. They paid tithe of mint, anise, and cummin (i e. of the minutest and most worthless things), but at the same time omitted judgment, mercy, and faith; that is, just dealing among men, charity towards the poor, and faithfulness in their promises and covenants one with another. This, says our Saviour, is to strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel; a proverbial expression, intimating, that some persons pretend great niceness and scrupulosity about small matters, and none, or but little, about duties of the greatest moment. Hence, note, that hypocrites lay the greatest stress upon the least matters in religion, and place holiness most in these things where God places it least.” Ye tithe mint, &c., but neglect the weightier matters of the law. “This is, indeed, the bane of all religion and true piety, to prefer rituals and human institutions before divine commands, and the practice of natural religion. Thus to do is a certain sign of gross hypocrisy.”
Nothing can, in fact, be more foreign to the nature of virtue than ostentation. It is truly said of Virtue, that, could men behold her naked, they would be all in love with her. Here it is implied, that this is a sight very rare or difficult to come at; and, indeed, there is always a modest backwardness in true virtue to expose her naked beauty. She is conscious of her innate worth, and little desirous of exposing it to the public view. It is the harlot Vice who constantly endeavours to set off the charms she counterfeits, in order to attract men’s applause, and to work her sinister ends by gaining their admiration and their confidence.
I shall mention but one symptom more of this hypocrisy, and this is a readiness to censure the faults of others. “Judge not,” says Jesus, “lest you be judged.” — And again; “Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?” On which the above-mentioned commentator rightly observes, “That those who are most censorious of the lesser infirmities of others, are usually most notoriously guilty of far greater failings themselves.” This sanctified slander is, of all, the most severe, bitter, and cruel; and is so easily distinguished from that which is either the effect of anger or wantonness, and which I have mentioned before, that I shall dwell no longer upon it.
And here I shall dismiss my character of a sanctified hypocrite, with the honest wish which Shakespeare hath launched forth against an execrable villain:
— “That Heaven would put in every honest hand a whip, To lash the rascal naked through the world.”
I have now, I think, enumerated the principal methods by which deceit works its ends on easy, credulous, and open dispositions; and have endeavoured to point out the symptoms by which they may be discovered; but while men are blinded by vanity and self-love, and while artful hypocrisy knows how to adapt itself to their blind sides, and to humour their passions, it will be difficult for honest and undesigning men to escape the snares of cunning and imposition; I shall therefore recommend one more certain rule, and which, I believe, if duly attended to, would, in a great measure, extirpate all fallacy out of the world; or must at least so effectually disappoint its purposes, that it would soon be worth no man’s while to assume it, and the character of knave and fool would be more apparently (what they are at present in reality) allied or united.
This method is, carefully to observe the actions of men with others, and especially with those to whom they are allied in blood, marriage, friendship, profession, neighbourhood, or any other connection; nor can you want an opportunity of doing this; for none but the weakest of men would rashly and madly place a confidence, which may very materially affect him, in any one, on a slight or no acquaintance.
Trace then the man proposed to your trust into his private family and nearest intimacies. See whether he hath acted the part of a good son, brother, husband, father, friend, master, servant, &c. If he hath discharged these duties well, your confidence will have a good foundation; but if he hath behaved himself in these offices with tyranny, with cruelty, with infidelity, with inconstancy, you may be assured he will take the first opportunity his interest points out to him of exercising the same ill talents at your expense.
I have often thought mankind would be little liable to deceit (at least much less than they are) if they would believe their own eyes, and judge of men by what they actually see them perform towards those with whom they are most closely connected; whereas, how common is it to persuade ourselves, that the undutiful, ungrateful son, the unkind, or barbarous brother, or the man who is void of all tenderness, honour, or even humanit}7, to his wife or children, shall nevertheless become a sincere and faithful friend! but how monstrous a belief is it, that the pers
on who we find incapable of discharging the nearest duties of relation, whom no ties of blood or affinity can bind; nay, who is even deficient in that goodness which instinct infuses into the brute creation; that such a person should have a sufficient stock of virtue to supply the arduous character of honour and honesty! This is a credulity so absurd, that it admits of no aggravation.
Nothing indeed can be more unjustifiable to our prudence than an opinion that the man, whom we see act the part of a villain to others, should, on some minute change of person, time, place, or other circumstance, behave like an honest and just man to ourselves. I shall not here dispute the doctrine of repentance, any more than its tendency to the good of society; but as the actions of men are the best index to their thoughts, as they do, if well attended to and understood, with the utmost certainty demonstrate the character; and as we are not so certain of the sincerity of the repentance, I think we may with justice suspect, at least so far as to deny him our confidence, that a man whom we once knew to be a villain remains a villain still.
And now let us see whether these observations, extended a little farther, and taken into public life, may not help us to account for some phenomena which have lately appeared in this hemisphere: for as a man’s good behaviour to those with whom he hath the nearest and closest connection is the best assurance to which a stranger can trust for his honest conduct in any engagement he shall enter into with him; so is a worthy discharge of the social offices of a private station the strongest security which a man can give of an upright demeanour in any public trust, if his country shall repose it in him; and we may be well satisfied that the most popular speeches, and most plausible pretences of one of a different character, are only gilded snares to delude us, and to sacrifice us, in some manner or other, to his own sinister purposes. It is well said in one of Mr. Pope’s letters, “How shall a man love five millions, who never could love a single person?” If a man hath more love than what centres in himself, it will certainly light on his children, his relations, friends and nearest acquaintance. If he extends it farther, what is it less than general philanthropy, or love to mankind? Xow, as a good man loves his friend better than common acquaintance, so philanthropy will operate stronger towards his own country than any other; but no man can have this general philanthropy who hath not private affection, any more than he, who hath not strength sufficient to lift ten pounds, can at the same time be able to throw a hundred weight over his head. Therefore the bad son, husband, father, brother, friend; in a word, the bad man in private, can never be a sincere patriot.
In Kome and Sparta I agree it was otherwise; for there patriotism, by education, became a part of the character. Their children were nursed in patriotism; it was taught them at an age when religion in all countries is first inculcated; and as we see men of all religions ready to lay down their lives for the doctrines of it (which they often do not know, and seldom have considered), so were these Spartans and Romans ready with as implicit faith to die for their country; though the private morals of the former were depraved, and the latter were the public robbers of mankind.
Upon what foundation their patriotism then stood seems ‘pretty apparent, and perhaps there can be no surer. For I apprehend, if twenty boys were taught from their infancy to believe that the Eoyal Exchange was the kingdom of heaven, and consequently inspired with a suitable awe for it; and lastly, instructed that it was great, glorious, and godlike to defend it, nineteen of them would afterwards cheerfully sacrifice their lives for its defence; at least, it is impossible that any of them would agree, for a paltry reward, to set it on fire; not even though they were rogues and highwaymen in their disposition. But if you were admitted to choose twenty of such dispositions at the age of manhood who had never learnt any thing of its holiness, contracted any such awe, nor imbibed any such duty, I believe it would be difficult to bring them to venture their lives in its cause; nor should I doubt, could I persuade them of the security of the fact, of bribing them to apply the firebrand to any part of the building I pleased.
But a worthy citizen of London, without borrowing any such superstition from education, would scarce be tempted, by any reward, to deprive the city of so great an ornament, and what is so useful and necessary to its trade; at the same time to endanger the ruin of thousands, and perhaps the destruction of the whole.
The application seems pretty easy, that as there is no such passion in human nature as patriotism, considered abstractedly, and by itself, it must be introduced by art, and that while the mind of man is yet soft and ductile, and the unformed character susceptible of any arbitrary impression you please to make on it; or secondly, it must be founded on philanthropy, or universal benevolence; a passion which really exists in some natures, and which is necessarily attended with the excellent quality above mentioned; for as it seems granted, that the man cannot love a million who never could love a single person, so will it, I apprehend, appear as certain, that he who could not be induced to cheat or to destroy a single man, will never be prevailed on to cheat or to destroy many millions.
Thus I have endeavoured to show the several methods by which we can purpose to get any insight into the characters of those with whom we converse, and by which we may frustrate all the cunning and designs of hypocrisy. These methods I have shown to be threefold, viz by the marks which nature hath imprinted on the countenance, by their hebaviour to ourselves, and by their behaviour to others. On the first of these I have not much insisted, as liable to some incertainty; and as the latter seem abundantly sufficient to secure us, with proper caution, against the subtle deviccs of hypocrisy, though she be the most cunning as well as malicious of all the vices which have ever corrupted the nature of man.
But however useless this treatise may be to instruct, I hope it will be at least effectual to alarm my reader; and sure no honest undesigning man can ever be too much on his guard against the hypocrite, or too industrious to expose and expel him out of society.
AN ESSAY ON NOTHIN G
THE INTRODUCTION
IT is surprising, that while such trifling matters employ the masterly pens of the present age, the great and noble subject of this essay should have passed totally neglected; and the rather, as it is a subject to which the genius of many of those writers who have unsuccessfully applied themselves to politics, religion, &c., is most peculiarly adapted.
Perhaps their unwillingness to handle what is of such importance may not improperly be ascribed to their modesty; though they may not be remarkably addicted to this vice on every occasion. Indeed I have heard it predicated of some, whose assurance in treating other subjects hath been sufficiently notable, that they have blushed at this. For such is the awe with which this Nothing inspires mankind, that I believe it is generally apprehended of many persons of very high character among us, that were title, power, or riches to allure them, they would stick at it.
But whatever be the reason, certain it is, that except a hardy wit in the reign of Charles II. none ever hath dared to write on this subject: I mean openly and avowedly; for it must be confessed, that most of our modern authors, however foreign the matter which they endeavour to treat may seem at their first setting out, they generally bring the work to this in the end.
I hope, however, this attempt will not be imputed to me as an act of immodesty; since I am convinced here are many persons in this kingdom who are persuaded of my fitness for what I have undertaken. But as talking of a man’s self is generally suspected to arise from vanity, I shall, without any more excuse or preface, proceed to my essay.
SECTION I. OF THE ANTIQUITY OF NOTHING.
THERE is nothing falser than that old proverb which (like many other falsehoods) is in every one’s mouth:
“Ex nihilo nihil fit.”
Thus translated by Shakespeare, in Lear:
“Nothing can come of nothing.”
Whereas in fact from nothing proceeds every thing. And this is a truth confessed by the philosophers of all sects: the only point in controversy between them bein
g, whether something made the world out of nothing, or nothing out of something. A matter not much worth debating at present, since either will equally serve our turn. Indeed the wits of all ages seem to have ranged themselves on each side of this question, as their genius tended more or less to the spiritual or material substance. For those of the more spiritual species have inclined to the former, and those whose genius hath partaken more of the chief properties of matter, such as solidity, thickness, &c., have embraced the latter.
But whether nothing was the artifex or materies only, it is plain in either case, it will have a right to claim to itself the originatior of all things.
And farther, the great antiquity of nothing is apparent from its being so visible in the accounts we have of the beginning of every nation. This is very plainly to be discovered in the first pages, and sometimes books, of all general historians; and indeed, the study of this important subject fills up the whole life of an antiquary, it being always at the bottom of his inquiry, and is commonly at last discovered by him with infinite labour and pains.
SECTION II. OF THE NATURE OR NOTHING.
ANOTHER falsehood which we must detect in the pursuit of this essay is an assertion, “That no one can have an idea of nothing;” but men who thus confidently deny us this idea, either grossly deceive themselves, or would impose a downright cheat on the world: for, so far from having none, I believe there are few who have not many ideas of it; though perhaps they may mistake them for the idea of something.
For instance, is there any one who hath not an idea of immaterial substance? — Now what is immaterial substance, more than nothing? But here we are artfully deceived by the use of words: for were we to ask another what idea he had of immaterial matter, or unsubstantial substance, the absurdity of affirming it to be something would shock him, and he would immediately reply, it was nothing.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 413