Gossip is Gossip

Let us not meet in the flesh; rather, let us love what we imagine all the more.

Read The Rambler, Numb. 14. Saturday, May 5, 1750.

Those whom the appearance of virtue, or the evidence of genius, have tempted to a nearer knowledge of the writer in whose performances they may be found, have indeed had frequent reason to repent their curiosity; the bubble that sparkled before them has become common water at the touch; the phantom of perfection has vanished when they wished to press it to their bosom. They have lost the pleasure of imagining how far humanity may be exalted, and, perhaps, felt themselves less inclined to toil up the steeps of virtue, when they observe those who seem best able to point the way, loitering below, as either afraid of the labour, or doubtful of the reward.

And yet,

Nothing is more unjust, however common, than to charge with hypocrisy him that expresses zeal for those virtues, which he neglects to practice; since he may be sincerely convinced of the advantages of conquering his passions, without having yet obtained the victory, as a man may be confident of the advantages of a voyage, or a journey, without having the courage or industry to undertake it, and may honestly recommend to others, those attempts which he neglects himself.

And so, it’s no wonder that

A transition from an author’s book to his conversation, is too often like an entrance into a large city, after a distant prospect. Remotely, we see nothing but spires of temples, and turrets of palaces, and imagine it the residence of splendor, grandeur, and magnificence; but, when we have passed the gates, we find it perplexed with narrow passages, disgraced with despicable cottages, embarrassed with obstructions, and clouded with smoke.

Gossip, even when it’s founded on the truth, is still gossip.

Read the seventy-first chapter of Middlemarch, finishing Book VII, “Two Temptations,” bringing me to the final book, Book VIII, “Sunset and Sunrise.” Vol. III, Page 279.

October 24, 2023.

[ 1907 ]