to my mouth is, "You have
no right to ask me; and I shall not tell." But, as every man does not
recollect the proper reply at the moment it is wanted, and most men feel
abashed, when a direct question is put to them to which they know they
are not to return a direct answer, many will stammer and feel confused,
will perhaps insinuate a falshood, while at the same time their manner
to a discerning eye will, in spite of all their precautions, disclose
the very truth.
The institution of ballot not only teaches us that our best actions are
those which we ought most steadily to disavow, but carries distrust
and suspicion into all our most familiar relations. The man I want to
deceive, and throw out in the keenness of his hunting, is my landlord.
But how shall I most effectually conceal the truth from him? May I be
allowed to tell it to my wife or my child? I had better not. It is a
known maxim of worldly prudence, that the truth which may be a source of
serious injury to me, is safest, when it is shut up in my own bosom. If
I once let it out, there is no saying where the communication may
stop. "Day unto day uttereth speech; and night unto night sheweth forth
knowledge."
And is this the proud attitude of liberty, to which we are so eager to
aspire? After all, there will be some ingenuous men in the community,
who will not know how for ever to suppress what is dearest to their
hearts. But at any rate this institution holds out a prize to him that
shall be most secret and untraceable in his proceedings, that shall
"shoe his horses with felt," and proceed in all his courses with silence
and suspicion.
The first principle of morality to social man is, that we act under the
eye of our fellows. The truly virtuous man would do as he ought, though
no eye observed him. Persons, it is true, who deport themselves merely
as "men-pleasers," for ever considering how the by-standers will
pronounce of their conduct, are entitled to small commendation. The good
man, it is certain, will see
To do what virtue would, though sun and moon
Were in the flat sea sunk.
But, imperfect creatures as we mortals usually are, these things act
and react upon each other. A man of honourable intentions will demean
himself justly, from the love of right. But he is confirmed in his just
dealing by the approbation of his fellows; and, if he were tempted to
step awry, he would be checked by the anticipation of their censure.
Such is the natur
|