The
Christian Father's Present to His Children
by John Angell James, 1825
ON PRUDENCE, MODESTY, AND COURTESY
True religion, my dear children, is the first and the
principal thing which I am anxious that you should possess—but it is not the
only one. It is the basis of excellence which should be well laid, to bear
whatever things are lovely, or of good report, or, changing the metaphor—it
is that firmness and solidity of character which, like the substance of the
diamond, best prepares it to receive a polish, and is rendered more
beautiful and more valuable by being polished. The religion of some people
is like the gem in the rough, the excellence of which is concealed and
disfigured by many foreign adhesions—there is real principle at the
bottom—but it is so surrounded by imprudence, crudeness, ignorance,
slovenliness, and other bad qualities, that it requires a skillful eye to
discern its worth. I most earnestly admonish you, therefore, to add to your
piety
1. PRUDENCE. By prudence,
I mean a calculating and deliberative turn of mind, as to the tendency of
our words and actions; coupled with a desire so to speak and act, as to
bring no inconvenience either upon ourselves or others. It is that right
application of knowledge to practice, which constitutes wisdom. A person
may have an immensity of knowledge, with scarcely a grain of prudence; and,
notwithstanding the stores of his understanding, may always have his peace
destroyed.
I am aware that prudence is too often regarded by the
ardent and optimistic minds of the young, as a cold and heartless virtue; a
sort of November flower, which, though regular in its growth, and mild in
color, has neither glow nor fragrance—but stands alone in the garden as the
memorial of departed summer, the harbinger of approaching winter. Youth are
captivated by what is exciting and impetuous, even when it leads to
"Headlong Hall." If by prudence I meant mere cold reserve, or that
selfishness which chills the ardor of kindness, and freezes the spring of
benevolence in the heart, you might well beware of a disposition so
unlovely.
But when I simply mean a habit of thinking before you
speak or act, lest your thoughtlessness should prove injurious to the
comfort of your own mind, or the comfort of others; when I only require you
to exercise that judgment upon the tendencies of your conduct, which is one
of the chief distinctions of a rational creature; when I merely call upon
you to put forth the power of foresight which God has planted in your
nature—surely, surely, there is nothing unsuited either to your age, or to
the most generous mind, in this. That rashness of speech, or of conduct,
which is always involving a person, and his friends too, in difficulties,
inconveniences, and embarrassments, has little to commend itself to your
admiration, with whatever good temper or mirthful liveliness it may happen
to be associated; society must be a chaos, if all its members were formed
upon this model.
You must have seen, my dear children, the mischiefs which
imprudence has brought in its train. What strifes have been engendered by a
rash, unguarded use of the tongue; by people giving a hasty opinion of the
character, conduct, and motives of others—I believe that half of the
quarrels which exist, may be traced up to this source. If then you would
journey along through life in honor and in peace, I cannot give you a more
important piece of advice than this—"Be very cautious how you give an
opinion of the character, conduct, or motives of others. Be slow to
speak. For one that has repented of having held his tongue, myriads have
bitterly grieved over the imprudent use of it." Remember what Solomon says,
"A prating fool shall fall;" and almost all fools do prate. Silence is
generally a characteristic of wise men, especially in reference to the
concerns of others. I know not a surer mark of a little, empty mind—than to
be always talking about our neighbors' affairs. A collector of rags is a
much more honorable, and certainly a far more useful member of society, than
a collector and vender of tales.
But let your prudence manifest itself in reference to
your conduct, as well as to your words. Never act until you have
deliberated. Some people invert the order of nature and reason; they act
first, and think afterwards; and the consequence very generally proves, as
might have been expected, that first impressions are fallacious guides to
wise actions. I scarcely know anything against which young people should be
more seriously warned than this habit of acting from first impressions; nor
anything which they should be more earnestly advised to cultivate, than an
almost instinctive propensity to look forward, and to consider the probable
results of any proposed line of conduct. This calculating temper is to be
preferred, far more than the knowledge of the rash; for it will preserve
both the peace of its possessor, and that of others who have to do with him.
Multitudes, by a lack of prudence in the management of
their financial affairs, have ruined themselves, plunged their families into
poverty, and involved their friends in calamity. They have engaged in one
rash speculation after another, and formed one unpromising connection after
another; scarcely recovered from the complicated damage of one, before they
were involved in the failure of the next—until the final catastrophe came in
all its terrors, which might have been foreseen, and was predicted by
everyone except the rash projector himself. When we consider that in such
cases a man cannot suffer alone—but must extend the effects of his conduct
to others, prudence will appear to be not only an ornament of character—but
a virtue; and imprudence not only near to immorality—but a part of it.
Begin life, then, with a systematic effort to cultivate a
habit of sound discretion, and prudent foresight; and for this purpose,
observe attentively the conduct of others—profit both by the sufferings of
the rash, and the tranquility of the cautious—render also your own past
experience subservient to future improvement. I knew a person, who having
imprudently engaged in a litigation which cost him a considerable sum of
money, made the following entry in his diary, "March—Paid this day, one
hundred and fifty pounds for wisdom." Experience, it has been said, keeps a
costly school—but some people will not learn in any other, and they are
fortunate who improve in this. I most emphatically recommend to you the
diligent study of the book of Proverbs, as containing more sound
wisdom, more prudential maxims for the right government of our affairs in
this life, than all other books in the world put together!
2. MODESTY (that is, true humility)
is a very bright ornament of the youthful character—without it the greatest
attainments and the strongest genius cannot fail to create disgust.
Conceitedness, I have already stated to be one of the
obstacles to youthful piety, and even where its evil does not operate so
fatally as this, it certainly disfigures true religion. Young people should
consider, that even if they have much knowledge—they have but little
experience. Everything pert, flippant, obtrusive, and self-confident, is
highly unsuitable in those who, whatever they may know of scholastic
literature, have but little acquaintance either with themselves or mankind.
Strong intellect and great attainments will soon commend themselves, without
any pains being taken to force them upon our attention; and they never
appear so lovely, nor attract us with such force, as when seen through a
veil of modesty. Like the blushing violet, which discloses its retreat
rather by its fragrance than by its color, youthful excellence should
modestly leave others to find out its concealment, and not ostentatiously
thrust itself on public attention.
I do not wish to inculcate that extreme demureness which
makes young people bashful and timid, even to awkwardness and sheepishness;
which prevents even the laudable exertion of their powers; and which is not
only distressing to the subjects of it themselves—but painful to others.
Nothing can be further from my views than this; for it is a positive misery
to be able neither to speak nor be spoken to, without blushing to the ears,
and trembling to the very toes. But there is a wide difference between this
bashfulness and genuine modesty.
"Modesty is a habit, or principle of the mind, which
leads a man to form a humble estimate of himself, and prevents him from
ostentatiously displaying his attainments before others—bashfulness is
merely a state of timid feeling. Modesty discovers itself in the absence of
everything pretended—whether in look, word, or action; bashfulness betrays
itself by a downcast look, a blushing cheek, and a timid air. Modesty,
though opposed to self-conceit, is not incompatible with an unpretending
confidence in ourselves; bashfulness altogether unmans us, and disqualifies
us for our duty."
Modesty shields a man from the mortifications and
disappointments which assail the self-conceited man from every quarter. A
pert, pragmatical youth, fond alike of exalting himself and depreciating
others, soon becomes a mark for the arrows of ridicule, censure, and anger.
While a modest person conciliates the esteem of all, not excepting his
enemies and rivals; he disarms the resentment even of those who feel
themselves most injured by his superiority; he makes all pleased with him by
making them at ease with themselves; he is at once esteemed for his talents,
and loved for the humility with which he bears them. Arrogance can neither
supply the lack of talents, nor adorn them where they are possessed.
It is of importance to cultivate modesty in youth, for if
lacking then, it is seldom obtained afterwards. Nothing grows faster than
conceitedness; and as no weed in the human heart becomes more
vigorous—so none is more offensive than this. I have known individuals, who,
by their extensive information, might have become the delight of every
circle in which they moved—have yet by their positive, dogmatical and
overbearing temper, inspired such a dread, that their arrival in company has
thrown a cloud-shadow on every countenance!
A disputatious temper is exceedingly to be dreaded.
Nothing can be more opposed to the peace of society than that disposition,
which converts every room into the arena of controversy, every company into
competitors, and every diversity of sentiment into an occasion of discord.
There are times when a man must state and defend his own opinions; when he
cannot be silent, when he must not only defend—but attack. But even in such
cases he should avoid everything dogmatical and overbearing; all insulting
contempt of others, and all that most irritating treatment, which makes his
opponent appear like a fool. Our arguments should not fall and explode with
the noise and violence of thunderbolts—but insinuate themselves like the
light or the dew of heaven.
Take it, my dear children, as the result of nearly a
quarter of a century's observation and experience in no contracted circle of
human life, that verbal controversy in company produces very little good,
and a great deal of harm. In such a situation men contend for victory—not
for truth. And each goes into the war of words, determined to avoid,
if possible, the disgrace of a public defeat.
3. COURTESY is a most
valuable disposition. This is required not only by those authors who are the
law givers of the social circle—but by Him who has published laws for the
government of the heart.
"Be courteous," says the word of God. By courtesy, I mean
that benevolence of disposition which displays itself in a constant aim to
please those with whom we associate, both by the matter and manner of our
actions; in little things as well as great ones. Crabbe, in his English
Synonyms, has given us this definition of courtesy and amiability—"Courtesy
in one respect comprehends more than amiability; it includes the manner, as
well as the action; it is, properly speaking, polished amiability. On the
other hand amiability includes more of the disposition in it than
courteousness; it has less of the polish—but more of the reality of
kindness. Courteousness displays itself in the address and the
manners—amiability in direct good offices. Courteousness is most suitable
for strangers; amiability for friends, or the nearest relatives. Among
well-bred men, and men of rank, it is an invariable rule to address each
courteously on all occasions whenever they meet, whether acquainted or
otherwise. There is a degree of amiability due between husbands and wives,
brothers and sisters, and members of the same family, which cannot be
neglected without endangering the harmony of their communion."
It is my earnest desire, my children, that you should be
both courteous and amiable. The union of both these constitutes true
politeness. True politeness is excellence carried to its highest polish.
Life is made up for the most part of petty
interactions—and is checkered more by the light and shade of minor pains and
pleasures, than by the deeper hues of miseries and ecstasies. Occasions
rarely happen, when we can relieve or be relieved by the more splendid
efforts of benevolence; while not a day, scarcely an hour, passes without an
opportunity of giving or receiving gratifications of amiability.
"Politeness is one of those advantages which we never
estimate rightly but by the inconvenience of its loss. Its influence upon
the manners is constant and uniform, so that like an equal motion, it
escapes perception. Wisdom and virtue are by no means sufficient without the
supplemental laws of good breeding, to secure freedom from degenerating into
crudeness; or self-esteem from swelling into insolence—a thousand
incivilities may be committed, and a thousand offices neglected without any
remorse of conscience, or reproach from reason."
The true effect of genuine politeness seems to be rather
ease than pleasure. The power of delighting must be conferred by
nature, and cannot be delivered by precept, or obtained by imitation. But
though it be the privilege of few to ravish and to charm, every man may
hope, by rules and cautions, not to give pain, and may therefore, by the
help of good breeding, enjoy the kindness of mankind, though he should have
no claim to higher distinctions.
"The universal axiom in which all amiability is included,
and from which flow all the formalities that custom has established in
civilized nations, is—that no man shall give any preference to himself. This
is a rule so comprehensive and certain, that perhaps it is not easy for the
mind to imagine an incivility, without supposing it to be broken."
Do not think, however, that politeness is only to be
acquired by frequenting what is called fashionable company, and places of
public entertainment. Amiability is the offspring of benevolence, the tiny
daughter of kindness; and this may be found in the cottage, where I have
often seen as much real courtesy as ever graced a mansion. Hear the
testimony of Dr. Johnson on this subject—"I have indeed not found, among any
part of mankind, less real and rational amiability—than among those who have
passed their time in paying and receiving visits, in frequenting public
entertainments, in studying the exact measures of ceremony, and in watching
all the variations of fashionable courtesy.
"They know, indeed, at what hour they may be at the door
of an acquaintance, how many steps they must attend him towards the gate,
and what interval should pass before his visit is returned—but seldom extend
their care beyond the exterior and unessential parts of civility, nor refuse
their own vanity any gratification, however expensive, to the quiet of
another."
By a neglect of amiability, many people of substantial
excellence have deprived their virtues of much of their luster, and
themselves of much kindness—of whom it is very common to have it said—"Yes,
he is a good man—but I cannot like him." Surely such people, by their
unamiable disposition, have sold the attachment of the world at too low a
price, since they have lost one of the rewards of virtue, without even
gaining the profits of wickedness.
4. ON ADMIRATION OF THE CHARACTERS OF OTHERS ,
I think it important to say a few things. To observe, admire, and imitate
the excellences of those around us—is no less our duty than our interest. It
is a just tribute to their moral worth, and the means of promoting our own.
It is of great consequence, however, that our admiration of character should
be well directed. For as we naturally imitate what we admire, we should take
care that we are attracted and charmed only by real excellence. Do not be
led astray, my children, by a mere spuriousness—or showiness of character.
Let nothing be regarded by you as worthy your admiration, which is not in
connection with moral worth. Courage, frankness, heroism, politeness,
intellect, are all valuable—but unless they are united with genuine
principle, and true integrity, they only render their possessor more
dangerous, and invest him with greater power to do harm. Do not allow your
imagination to be captivated by the dazzling properties of a character, of
which the substantial parts are not approved by your judgment; nothing is
excellent which is not morally so.
The polished dissolute person, the generous profligate,
the witty and intelligent skeptic, are to be shunned as serpents, whose
colorful and beautiful skin should have no power to reconcile us to their
venom. You may be charged with lack of taste, or coldness of heart, for
withholding your approbation—but it is a far sublimer attainment, and
certainly a more difficult one, to have a taste and ardor only in the cause
of holiness. Be cautious to examine every character which is presented to
you for admiration, to penetrate the varnish of exterior accomplishments;
and if you find nothing of genuine integrity and holiness beneath, withhold
the tribute of your approbation, regardless of the sneers of those shallow
minds who have neither the power to test the things that differ, nor the
virtue to approve only such as are excellent.
It is a very important hint to give to young people, just
setting out in life, to analyze character before they admire it;
remembering that, to borrow an allusion from chemistry, a deadly poison may
be held in solution by the most beautifully-colored liquid which the eye can
behold.
5. AN EXTREME DREAD OF SINGULARITY ,
arising out of a morbid sensibility to shame—is a dangerous disposition of
mind, to which young people are very liable.
There are some who are so ambitious to be thought
singular, that they pretend distinction in folly, or even in vice. They can
even bear to be laughed at, if it may be admitted that they are singular;
and are content to be persecuted, provided it be for the sake of their
singularity. These 'martyrs to strangeness' are in one extremity of
character—of which the other is that great dread of being ridiculed as
singular, which tries a man's attachment, even to the cause of virtue.
There are some so acutely, so morbidly sensible to the least sneer, that
they are put in dreadful peril of forsaking the cause of righteousness and
morality, rather than take up the cross in the face of laughter. I have
already in part considered this, and stated it to be one of the obstacles to
early piety—but it not only obstructs the entrance—but the subsequent path
of piety, and should therefore be most vigorously opposed by all who are
subject to its influence.
A sense of shame, when felt in reference to what is
wrong, is one of the guardians of virtue—in this meaning of the phrase, it
can never be too acute, nor can it be too delicately susceptible of
impression. When any one has ceased to be ashamed of doing what is wrong,
and the last blush with which a tender conscience once suffused the
countenance has vanished—the progress of sin is nearly completed, and the
sinner may be considered as near the end of his wicked career. But when a
person is so morbidly sensible to ridicule, that he shrinks from it, even in
the performance of that which is right, he not only lets down his
dignity—but endangers his principles.
There is something noble and heroic in that disposition,
which can dare to be singular in the cause of true religion and morality;
which with a mind conscious of doing right, can fight, single-handed, the
battles of the Lord, against the army of scorners by which it may be
surrounded. It is not a part of virtue to be indifferent to the opinion of
others, except that opinion be opposed to the principles of truth and
holiness—then it is the very height of virtue to act above it, and against
it!
Ridicule is certainly not the test of truth—but it is one
of the most fiery ordeals of that courage by which the truth is professed
and supported. Many have been vanquished by 'scorn', who were invulnerable
to 'rage'; for men in general would much rather have their hearts reproached
than their heads, deeming it less disgraceful to be weak in virtue than
deficient in intellect. Strange perversion! the effect of that pride which,
being injected into our nature by the venom of the serpent in Paradise,
still continues to infect and destroy us! Let us oppose this working of evil
within us, and crucify this lust of the flesh. Let no ridicule deter us from
doing what is right or avoiding what is wrong. Let us emulate the sublime
example of the apostle, who exclaimed, "We are fools for Christ's sake."
This is the noblest effort of human courage, the loftiest achievement of
virtue to be "faithful found among the faithless," and willing to bear any
ridicule rather than act in opposition to the convictions of our judgment,
and the dictates of our conscience.
It is infinitely better to be scorned for doing what is
right, than applauded for doing what is wrong. From the laughter of the
wicked you may find a refuge in the approbation of your conscience, and the
smile of your God. But in what a miserable situation is that poor cowardly
wretch, whose dread of singularity has led him to sacrifice the convictions
of his conscience, and who has nothing to comfort him under the frowns of
Deity but the applause of fools!
Neither in little things, nor in great ones, allow your
dread of singularity to turn your feet from the path of integrity. Arm
yourself with this mind-set, to do what is right, though you can find
neither companion nor follower!
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