Impressions of Theophrastus Such

ং
Theophrastus Such, by George Eliot

Project Gutenberg's Impressions of Theophrastus Such, by George Eliot This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Impressions of Theophrastus Such
Author: George Eliot
Release Date: January 26, 2007 [EBook #10762] [This file was first posted on January 21, 2004]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IMPRESSIONS OF THEOPHRASTUS SUCH ***

Produced by Afra Ullah and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

IMPRESSIONS OF THEOPHRASTUS SUCH
GEORGE ELIOT
Second Edition
William Blackwood and Sons Edinburgh and London MDCCCLXXIX

"Suspicione si quis errabit sua, Et rapiet ad se, quod erit commune omnium, Stulte nudabit animi conscientiam Huic excusatum me velim nihilominus Neque enim notare singulos mens est mihi, Verum ipsam vitam et mores hominum ostendere"
--Phaedrus
CONTENTS
I. LOOKING INWARD
II. LOOKING BACKWARD
III. HOW WE ENCOURAGE RESEARCH
IV. A MAN SURPRISED AT HIS ORIGINALITY
V. A TOO DEFERENTIAL MAN
VI. ONLY TEMPER
VII. A POLITICAL MOLECULE
VIII. THE WATCH-DOG OF KNOWLEDGE
IX. A HALF-BREED
X. DEBASING THE MORAL CURRENCY
XI. THE WASP CREDIT
ED WITH THE HONEYCOMB
XII. "SO YOUNG!"
XIII. HOW WE COME TO GIVE OURSELVES FALSE TESTIMONIALS, AND BELIEVE IN THEM
XIV. THE TOO READY WRITER
XV. DISEASES OF SMALL AUTHORSHIP
XVI. MORAL SWINDLERS
XVII. SHADOWS OF THE COMING RACE
XVIII. THE MODERN HEP! HEP! HEP!

I.
LOOKING INWARD.
It is my habit to give an account to myself of the characters I meet with: can I give any true account of my own? I am a bachelor, without domestic distractions of any sort, and have all my life been an attentive companion to myself, flattering my nature agreeably on plausible occasions, reviling it rather bitterly when it mortified me, and in general remembering its doings and sufferings with a tenacity which is too apt to raise surprise if not disgust at the careless inaccuracy of my acquaintances, who impute to me opinions I never held, express their desire to convert me to my favourite ideas, forget whether I have ever been to the East, and are capable of being three several times astonished at my never having told them before of my accident in the Alps, causing me the nervous shock which has ever since notably diminished my digestive powers. Surely I ought to know myself better than these indifferent outsiders can know me; nay, better even than my intimate friends, to whom I have never breathed those items of my inward experience which have chiefly shaped my life.
Yet I have often been forced into the reflection that even the acquaintances who are as forgetful of my biography and tenets as they would be if I were a dead philosopher, are probably aware of certain points in me which may not be included in my most active suspicion. We sing an exquisite passage out of tune and innocently repeat it for the greater pleasure of our hearers. Who can be aware of what his foreign accent is in the ears of a native? And how can a man be conscious of that dull perception which causes him to mistake altogether what will make him agreeable to a particular woman, and to persevere eagerly in a behaviour which she is privately recording against him? I have had some confidences from my female friends as to their opinion of other men whom I have observed trying to make themselves amiable, and it has occurred to me that though I can hardly be so blundering as Lippus and the rest of those mistaken candidates for favour whom I have seen ruining their chance by a too elaborate personal canvass, I must still come under the common fatality of mankind and share the liability to be absurd without knowing that I am absurd. It is in the nature of foolish reasoning to seem good to the foolish reasoner. Hence with all possible study of myself, with all possible effort to escape from the pitiable illusion which makes men laugh, shriek, or curl the lip at Folly's likeness, in total unconsciousness that it resembles themselves, I am obliged to recognise that while there are secrets in me unguessed by others, these others have certain items of knowledge about the extent of my powers and the figure I make with them, which in turn are secrets unguessed by me. When I was a lad I danced a hornpipe with arduous scrupulosity, and while suffering pangs of pallid shyness was yet proud of my superiority as a dancing pupil, imagining for myself a high place in the estimation of beholders; but I can now picture the amusement they had in the incongruity of my solemn face and ridiculous legs. What sort of hornpipe am I dancing now?
Thus if I laugh at you, O fellow-men! if I trace with curious interest your