en in soliloquy and in battle: If every soliloquy made under similar
circumstances were as audible as _Falstaff_'s, the imputation might
perhaps be found too general for censure. These are among the passages
that have impressed on the world an idea of Cowardice in _Falstaff_;--yet
why? He is resolute to take his fate: If _Percy_ do come in his way,
_so_;--if not, he will not seek inevitable destruction; he is willing to
save his life, but if that cannot be, why,--"honour comes unlook'd for, and
there's an end." This surely is not the language of Cowardice: It contains
neither the Bounce or Whine of the character; he derides, it is true, and
seems to renounce that grinning idol of Military zealots, _Honour_. But
_Falstaff_ has a kind of Military free-thinker, and has accordingly
incurred the obloquy of his condition. He stands upon the ground of
natural Courage only and common sense, and has, it seems, too much wit for
a hero.--But let me be well understood;--I do not justify _Falstaff_ for
renouncing the point of honour; it proceeded doubtless from a general
relaxation of mind, and profligacy of temper. Honour is calculated to aid
and strengthen natural courage, and lift it up to heroism; but natural
courage, which can act as such without honour, is natural courage still;
the very quality I wish to maintain to _Falstaff_. And if, without the aid
of honour, he can act with firmness, his portion is only the more eminent
and distinguished. In such a character, it is to his actions, not his
sentiments, that we are to look for conviction. But it may be still
further urged in behalf of _Falstaff_, that there may be false honour as
well as false religion. It is true; yet even in that case candour obliges
me to confess that the best men are most disposed to conform, and most
likely to become the dupes of their own virtue. But it may however be more
reasonably urged that there are particular tenets both in honour and
religion, which it is the grossness of folly not to question. To seek out,
to court assured destruction, without leaving a single benefit behind, may
be well reckoned in the number: And this is precisely the very folly which
_Falstaff_ seems to abjure;--nor are we, perhaps, intitled to say more, in
the way of censure, than that he had not virtue enough to become the dupe
of honour, nor prudence enough to hold his tongue. I am willing however,
if the reader pleases, to compound this matter, and acknowledge, on my
part,