Praise is a reflection of virtue, but it depends on the source of that reflection. If it comes from the general public, it’s often unreliable and misguided. Ordinary people are more likely to admire shallow qualities than true virtue, as they struggle to understand deeper virtues. They applaud the simpler traits, are astonished by moderate virtues, but cannot grasp the highest virtues at all. Instead, they’re drawn to appearances—qualities that seem like virtues but aren’t the real thing.
Fame, like a river, tends to carry light, inflated things while sinking what is weighty and substantial. However, when praise comes from discerning individuals of quality and sound judgment, it becomes something lasting and valuable. As the Bible says, “A good name is like fragrant ointment,” filling the air with a lasting scent, more enduring than flowers.
There are so many ways praise can be false that it’s wise to approach it with caution. Some praise is mere flattery. A basic flatterer uses the same generic compliments for everyone. A more cunning flatterer studies you and mirrors what you already admire most in yourself, reinforcing your self-opinion. The most shameless flatterer praises you for things you know you lack, forcing you to accept it despite your better judgment.
Other times, praise comes from good intentions—out of respect for people in power, such as kings or leaders. This type of praise often hints at what the person could become rather than what they already are. Some maliciously praise others to stir envy or suspicion against them, a tactic so harmful that the Greeks had a saying: “He who is praised to his harm will find a blemish on his nose,” much like how we say that a blister rises on the tongue of a liar.
Balanced praise, delivered at the right time and with moderation, is the most beneficial. As Solomon wisely noted, loud praise, especially when exaggerated or misplaced, can backfire and feel like a curse. Excessive praise invites envy, contradiction, and even ridicule.
Praising oneself is generally improper, except in rare circumstances. However, praising one’s role or profession can be done gracefully, with a sense of confidence and dignity. For example, the cardinals of Rome, who are scholars and theologians, often dismiss civil matters like wars, diplomacy, and administration, calling them “under-sheriff’s work,” as though such tasks are beneath them. Yet, ironically, these so-called trivial tasks often accomplish more good than lofty speculations.
When St. Paul boasts of himself, he humbly adds, “I speak as a fool.” Yet when he speaks of his calling, he boldly declares, “I magnify my ministry.”
Bacon Blueprint 