{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_56869/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_56869","id":"gutenberg_56869","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56869","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Happiness"],"text":"E-text prepared by John Campbell and the Online Distributed Proofreading\nTeam (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by\nInternet Archive (https://archive.org)\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through\n      Internet Archive. See\n      https://archive.org/details/artofbeinghappy00droz\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s note:\n\n      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\n      There are about seventy Notes at the back of the book. These\n      are referenced in the text by a numeric anchor eg [1] or [15];\n      some anchors have an \u2018a\u2019 suffix eg [15a] or [21a].\n\n      There are two Footnotes in the main text, whose anchors are\n      [A] and [B]. There are six Footnotes in the Notes section,\n      whose anchors are [C] to [H]. All eight Footnotes have been\n      placed at the back of the book after the Notes section.\n\n      Numerous minor text changes are noted in the Transcriber\u2019s Note\n      at the end of the book.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ART OF BEING HAPPY:\n\nFrom the French of DROZ,\n\n\u2018SUR L\u2019ART D\u2019ETRE HEUREUX;\u2019\n\nIn a Series of Letters\nfrom\na Father to His Children:\nwith\nObservations and Comments.\n\nby\n\nTIMOTHY FLINT.\n\n   \u2018----sua si bonna n\u00f4rint.\u2019--VIRGIL.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBoston,\nPublished By Carter And Hendee.\n1832.\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832,\nBY CARTER AND HENDEE,\nin the Clerk\u2019s Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\nThe text, upon which the following observations and comments\nare based, does not assume to be a literal translation of the\ncelebrated work of Droz. The original is strongly idiomatic;\nand the author has carried an uncommon talent of being laconic\nsometimes to the point of obscurity. I have often found it\nimpossible to convey to the English reader a sentiment, perfectly\nobvious in the original, in as few words as are there used. The\nFrench, in its more numerous articles, more allowable and bold\npersonifications, and arbitrary use of gender, has, in the hand\nof certain writers, this advantage over our language. When the\ndoctrines of the book are compared one with the other, and each\nwith the general bearing of the work, the inculcation, namely, of\nthe truth that _virtue is happiness_, there will be found nothing\nimmoral or reprehensible in it. The author, on the whole, leans to\nthe Epicurean philosophy. Unfavorable, though erroneous impressions\nhave been very generally entertained of that philosophy. In\ndeference to that opinion, I have altogether omitted the few\nsentences, which seemed appropriate to some of the dogmas of the\nEpicureans. Nothing can be more remote from their alleged impiety,\nthan the general tenor of this work. One of its most eloquent and\nimpressive chapters is that upon religion. There is a distinct\nclass in France, both numerous and important, the _literatures_.\nMany of the remarks of the author, bearing chiefly upon that class,\nseemed inapplicable, or unintelligible in our country, where there\nis no such class to address. I have passed over many passages and\nparts of chapters, which had an almost exclusive reference to\npersons in that walk in life. I have added members of sentences,\nand even whole sentences to the text, where such additions seemed\nnecessary to develope the doctrine to an English reader.\n\nIn a word, I do not offer the text, as an exact translation, but\nas the only treatise within the compass of my reading, which has\ndiscussed the pursuit of happiness, as a science or an art; and\nas one which has advanced more eloquent and impressive sentiments\nupon the subject, than I have elsewhere met. With the slight\nalterations, which I have made, I have found this book to meet\nmy own thoughts; and I have laid out of the text all phrases and\npassages, which spoke otherwise. I have availed myself of the words\nof another, because they have expressed my own views better than\nI could have hoped to express them myself. This explanation will\nbe my reply to all remarks, touching mistranslation, or liberties\ntaken with the author.\n\n\n\n\nERRATA.\n\n\n  Page 44, last line, dele the 5.\n  Page 111, 5th line from bottom, dele 29.\n  Page 121, end of second paragraph, dele 32.\n  Page 149, 2d line from top, dele 51.\n  Page 200, for Note 5, page 44, read 6, page 45.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                       Page.\n\n      LETTER I.\n\n  Introduction,                                            1\n\n      LETTER II.\n\n  The Physical, Organic and Moral Laws,                    8\n\n      LETTER III.\n\n  The same subject continued,                             25\n\n      LETTER IV.\n\n  General Views of the subject,                           39\n\n      LETTER V.\n\n  Our Desires,                                            45\n\n      LETTER VI.\n\n  Tranquillity of Mind,                                   51\n\n      LETTER VII.\n\n  Of Misfortune,                                          58\n\n      LETTER VIII.\n\n  Of Independence,                                        67\n\n      LETTER IX.\n\n  Of Health,                                              73\n\n      LETTER X.\n\n  Of Competence,                                          83\n\n      LETTER XI.\n\n  Of Opinion, and the Affection of Men,                   90\n\n      LETTER XII.\n\n  Of the Sentiment Men ought to Inspire,                  95\n\n      LETTER XIII.\n\n  Of some of the Virtues,                                100\n\n      LETTER XIV.\n\n  Of Marriage,                                           108\n\n      LETTER XV.\n\n  Of Children,                                           117\n\n      LETTER XVI.\n\n  Of Friendship,                                         124\n\n      LETTER XVII.\n\n  The Pleasures of the Senses,                           129\n\n      LETTER XVIII.\n\n  The Pleasures of the Heart,                            134\n\n      LETTER XIX.\n\n  The Pleasures of the Understanding,                    139\n\n      LETTER XX.\n\n  The Pleasures of the Imagination,                      144\n\n      LETTER XXI.\n\n  Melancholy,                                            148\n\n      LETTER XXII.\n\n  Religious Sentiments,                                  154\n\n      LETTER XXIII.\n\n  Of the Rapidity of Life,                               163\n\n      LETTER XXIV.\n\n  On Death,                                              170\n\n      LETTER XXV.\n\n  Conclusion of Droz \u2018_Sur l\u2019Art d\u2019Etre Heureux_,\u2019       176\n\n      LETTER XXVI.\n\n  The Choice of a Profession,                            182\n\n\n  NOTES,                                             193-313\n\n\n\n\n  THE ART OF BEING HAPPY.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER I.\n\n\nThe following thoughts, my dear children, are those of an\naffectionate father going out of life, to those he most loves, who\nare coming forward in it. I am perfectly aware, that nothing but\ntime can impart all the dear bought instruction of experience.\nUpon innumerable questions, that relate to life, you will receive\nefficient teaching only by reaping the fruit of your own errors.\nBut one who has preceded you on the journey, who has listened to\nthe impressive oracles of years, may impart some aid if you will\nlisten with docility, to enable you to anticipate the lessons of\nexperimental acquaintance with the world. In what I am about to\nwrite, I trust I may bring you this aid. As you embark on the\nuncertain voyage, I cannot but hope, that your filial piety will\nincline you to a frequent recurrence to the parental chart. You\nare aware, that circumstances have brought me into contact with\nall conditions, and into a view of all the aspects of life. I\nought, therefore, to be qualified to impart useful lessons upon the\nevils and dangers of inexperience. You, at least, will not see\nassumption in such lessons, when they result from the remembrance\nof my own errors. You may consider what follows, whether it be my\nown remarks, or what I have adopted from others, as the gleanings\nof experimental instruction, from what I have myself seen, felt,\nsuffered, or enjoyed; and as my comments upon the influence, which\nmy election of alternatives has had, upon the amount of my own\nenjoyment or suffering.\n\nYou will find enough who are ready to inspire you with indifference\nor disdain for such counsels. They will indolently, and yet\nconfidently, assure you, that the theoretical discussion of the\npursuit of happiness is, of all visionary investigations, the most\nprofitless and inapplicable; that lecture, write, preach as we\nmay, the future will be, perhaps ought to be, as the past; that\nthe world is always growing older, without ever growing wiser; and\nthat men are evidently no more successful in their search after\nhappiness now, than in the remotest periods of recorded history.\nThey will affirm that man has always been the sport of accident,\nthe slave of his passions, the creature of circumstances; that it\nis useless to reason, vain to consult rules, imbecile to surrender\nindependence, to follow the guidance of those who assume to be\nwise, or receive instruction from those who have been taught\nby years. They will allege the utter inefficacy of the lights\nof reason, philosophy, and religion, judging from the little\nillumination, which they have hitherto shed upon the paths of\nlife. On the same ground, and from the same reasonings, they might\ndeclaim against every attempt, in every form to render the world\nwiser and happier. With equal propriety they might say, \u2018close the\npulpit, silence the press, cease from parental discipline, moral\nsuasion, and the training of education. Do what you will, the world\nwill go on as before.\u2019 Who does not see the absurdity of such\nlanguage? Because we cannot do everything, shall we do nothing?\nBecause the million float towards the invisible future without any\npole star, or guided only by the presumption of general opinion,\nis it proof conclusive that none have been rendered happier\nin consequence of having followed wiser guidance, and pursued\nhappiness by system?\n\nSuch is the practical creed of the great mass, with whom you will\nbe associated in life. I, on the contrary, think entirely with the\nFrench philosopher, whose precepts you are about to read, that this\ngeneral persuasion is palpably false and fatal; that much suffering\nmay be avoided, and much enjoyment obtained by following rules,\nand pursuing happiness by system; that I have had the fortune to\nmeet with numbers, who were visible proofs that men may learn\nhow to be happy. I am confident that the far greater portion of\nhuman suffering is of our own procuring, the result of ignorance\nand mistaken views, and that it is a superfluous and unnecessary\nmixture of bitterness in the cup of human life. I firmly believe\nthat the greater number of deaths, instead of being the result of\nspecific diseases, to which they are attributed, are really caused\nby a series of imperceptible malign influences, springing from\ncorroding cares, griefs, and disappointments. To say, that more\nthan half of the human race die of sorrow, and a broken heart, or\nin some way fall victims to their passions, may seem like advancing\na revolting doctrine; but it is, nevertheless, in my mind, a simple\ntruth.\n\nWe do not _see_ the operations of grief upon some one or all the\ncountless frail and delicate constituents of human life. But if\nphysiology could look through the infinitely complicated web of\nour structure with the power of the solar microscope, it would\nbehold every chagrin searing some nerve, paralyzing the action of\nsome organ, or closing some capillary; and that every sigh draws\nits drop of life blood from the heart. Nature is slow in resenting\nher injuries; but the memory of them is indelibly impressed, and\ntreasured up for a late, but certain revenge. Nervousness, lowness\nof spirits, headache, and all the countless train of morbid and\nderanged corporeal and mental action, are, at once, the cause and\nthe effect of sorrow and anxiety, increased by a constant series\nof action and reaction. Thought and care become impressed upon\nthe brow. The bland essence of cheerfulness evaporates. The head\nbecomes shorn of its locks; and the frosts of winter gather on\nthe temples. These concurrent influences silently sap the stamina\nof life; until, aided by some adventitious circumstance, which we\ncall cold, fever, epidemic, dyspepsia--death lays his hand upon the\nframe that by the sorrows and cares of life was prepared for his\ndread office. The bills of mortality assign a name to the mortal\ndisease different from the true one.\n\nCheerfulness and equanimity are about the only traits that have\ninvariably marked the life of those who have lived to extreme old\nage. Nothing is more clearly settled by experience, than that\ngrief acts as a slow poison, not only in the immediate infliction\nof pain, but in gradually impairing the powers of life, and in\nsubtracting from the sum of our days.\n\nIf, then, by any process of instruction, discipline and mental\nforce, we can influence our circumstances, banish grief and create\ncheerfulness, we can, in the same degree, reduce rules, for the\npursuit of happiness, to a system; and make that system a matter\nof science. Can we not do this? The very million who deride the\nidea of seeking for enjoyment through the medium of instruction,\nunconsciously exercise the power in question to a certain\nextent--though not to the extent, of which they are capable. All\nthose wise individuals, who have travelled with equanimity and\ncheerfulness through the diversified scenes of life, making the\nmost of its good, and the least of its evils, bear a general\ntestimony to the truth of this fact. We find in them a conviction\nthat they had such power, and a force of character that enabled\nthem to act according to their convictions.\n\nNo person deserves the name of a philosopher, who is not wise in\nrelation to the great purpose of life. In the same proportion,\nthen, as I convince you, that by our own voluntary, physical and\nmental discipline, we can act upon circumstances, and influence our\ntemperament, and thus bear directly upon our happiness, I shall\nbe able to stir up your powers, and call forth your energy of\ncharacter, to apply that discipline in your own case. In the same\nproportion I shall be instrumental in training you to the highest\nexercise of your reason, and the attainment of true philosophy.\n\nThe elements upon which you are to operate, are your circumstances,\nhabits, and modes of thinking and acting. The _philosopher of\ncircumstances_[A] denies that you can act upon these. But, by his\nunwearied efforts to propagate his system, he proves, that he does\nnot himself act upon his avowed convictions. The impulse of all\nour actions from birth to death, the spring of all our movements\nis a conviction, that we can alter and improve our condition. We\nhave a consciousness stronger than our reason, that we can control\nour circumstances. We can change our regimen and habits; and by\npatience and perseverance, even our temperament. Every one can cite\ninnumerable and most melancholy instances of those who have done it\nfor evil. The habit of indulging in opium, tobacco, ardent spirits,\nor any of the pernicious narcotics, soon reduces the physical and\nmental constitution to that temperament, in which these stimulants\nare felt to be necessary. A corresponding change is produced in the\nmind and disposition. The frequent and regular use of medicine,\nthough it may have been wholly necessary at first, finally becomes\nan inveterate habit. No phenomenon of physiology is more striking,\nthan the facility with which the human constitution immediately\ncommences a conformity to whatsoever change of circumstances, as\nof climate, habit, or aliment, we impose upon it. It is a most\nimpressive proof, that the Creator has formed man capable of\nbecoming the creature of all climates and conditions.\n\nIf we may change our temperament both of body and mind for evil,\nas innumerable examples prove that we may, why not as easily for\ngood? Our habits certainly are under our control; and our modes\nof thinking, however little the process may have been explained,\nare, in some way, shaped by our voluntary discipline. We have high\npowers of self-command, as every one who has made the effort to\nexercise them, must be conscious. We have inexhaustible moral force\nfor self-direction, if we will only recognise and exert it. We owe\nmost of our disgusts and disappointments, our corroding passions\nand unreasonable desires, our fretfulness, gloom and self-torment,\nneither to nature nor fate; but to ourselves, and our reckless\nindifference to those rules, that ought to guide our pursuit of\nhappiness. Let a higher education and a truer wisdom disenthral\nus from our passions, and dispel the mists of opinion and silence\nthe authority of example. Let us commence the pursuit of happiness\non the right course, and seek it where alone it is to be found.\nEquanimity and moderation will shed their mild radiance upon our\nenjoyments; and in our reverses we shall summon resignation and\nforce of character; and, according to the sublime ancient maxim, we\nshall become masters of events and of ourselves.\n\nI am sensible that there will always be a sufficient number of\nthose, deemed philosophers, who, notwithstanding their rules, have\nwandered far from their aim. Such there will always be, so long as\nthere are stirring passions within or hidden dangers around us; and\nthere will be shipwrecks, so long as human cupidity and ambition\ntempt self-confident and unskilful mariners upon the fickle and\ntumultuous bosom of the ocean. But is this proof that a disciplined\npilot would not be most likely to make the voyage in safety, or\nthat the study of navigation is useless?\n\nMy affectionate desire is, to draw your attention to those moral\nresources which your Creator has placed at your command. How many\nmillions have floated down the current in the indolent supineness\nof inactivity, who, had they been aware of their internal means\nof active resistance, would have risen above the pressure of\ntheir circumstances! Who can deny, that there is a manifest\ndifference, even as things now are, between the moral courage of\naction and endurance, put forth by a disciplined and reflecting\nmind, possessing force of character, and the stupid and passive\nabandonment, with which a savage meets pain and death?\n\nMay you speed on your voyage under the influence of the _lucida\nsidera_, or, in higher phrase, may Providence be your guide.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER II.\n\nTHE PHYSICAL, ORGANIC AND MORAL LAWS.\n\n\nIn relation to this most important subject, read _Combe on the\nConstitution of Man_, a book, which I consider admirable for its\nbroad, philosophic, and just views of the laws of the universe,\nin their bearing upon the constitution of our physical and moral\nnature. You are not unaware, that I had presented you similar\nviews, and inculcated the same master principles, long before\nthis excellent work was published. Thousands, in all ages, have\nentertained the same extended conceptions of the divine plan,\nand its bearing upon man and all beings, upon this and all other\nworlds. But the honor belongs to this author, to have given form\nand systematic arrangement to these views. I have given my\nthoughts upon this subject at the commencement of my letters, and\nhave subjoined remarks upon the Christian religion at the close,\nbecause I deem that M. Droz, in not recurring to these fundamental\nprinciples at the beginning of his work, and in dwelling with so\nlittle earnestness upon the hope of the gospel, as an element of\nhappiness, at the close, has left chasms in it which ought to be\nsupplied.\n\nThe sect, numerous in my day, in yours, I trust, will have\ndisappeared, who hold that religion and philosophy are militant and\nirreconcilable principles. Such persons are accustomed to brand\nthese broad views of Providence and moral obligation with the odium\nof impiety. You will hardly need my assurance, that, if I thought\nwith them, _my right hand should forget its cunning_, before I\nwould allow anything to escape my pen which might have the least\ntendency to impair in your minds the future and eternal sanctions\nof virtue. I shall hereafter enlarge upon my persuasion, that, so\nfar from being in opposition, religion and philosophy, when rightly\nunderstood, will be found resting on the same immutable foundation.\nIt is because the misguided friends of religion have attempted to\nsustain them, as separate and hostile interests, in my view, that\nthe former has made so little progress towards becoming universal.\nIt will one day be understood, that whatever wars with reason\nand common sense, is equally hostile to religion. The simple and\nunchangeable truths of Christianity will be found to violate none\nof our most obvious convictions. Truth will reassume her legitimate\nreign. Piety, religion and morals, our best interests for this\nlife, and our surest preparations for a future one, will be found\nexactly conformable to the eternal order of things, and the system\nof the gospel will become universal, according to its legitimate\nclaims. True piety, in my mind, is equally our duty, our wisdom and\nhappiness. To behold God everywhere in his works, to hold communion\nwith him in a contemplative and admiring spirit, to love, and trust\nhim, to find, in the deep and constantly present persuasion of\nhis being and attributes, a sentiment of exhaustless cheerfulness\nand excitement to duty, I hold to be the source of the purest and\nsublimest pleasure, that earth can afford.\n\nTrue philosophy unfolds the design of final causes with a calm\nand humble wisdom. It finds the Creator everywhere, and always\nacting in wisdom and power. It traces the highest benevolence of\nintention, where the first aspect showed no apparent purpose, or\none that seemed to tend to misery; offering new inducements to\nlearn the first and last lesson of religion, and the ultimate\nattainment of human wisdom--resignation to the will of God. In\nvindicating his ways to men, it declares that so long as we do\nnot understand the laws of our being and so long as we transgress\nthem, either ignorantly, or wilfully and unconsciously, misery to\nourselves must just as certainly follow as that we can neither\nresist nor circumvent them; and that the Omnipotent has forged\nevery link of the chain, that connects our own unhappiness with\nevery transgression of the laws of our nature.\n\nWe find ourselves making a part of an existing universe which\nneither ignorance, nor wisdom, doubting, nor confidence can alter.\nIf we know the order, of which we are the subjects, and conform\nto it, we are happy. If we ignorantly, or wilfully transgress\nit, the order is in no degree changed, or impeded. It moves\nirresistibly on, and the opposition is crushed. How wisdom and\nbenevolence are reconcilable with the permission of this ignorance\nand opposition, in other words, why partial evil exists in God\u2019s\nuniverse, it is not my object to inquire. The inquiry would not\nonly be fruitless, but would in no degree alter the fact, that what\nwe call evil does exist. It is enough for us to know, that, as far\nas human research has reached, or can reach, the more profoundly\nwe investigate the subject, the more clearly are design, wisdom\nand benevolence discoverable. Beyond our ken, right reason, guided\nby humility, would infer, that, where we cannot trace the impress\nof these attributes, it is not because they are not discoverable,\nbut because our powers are not equal to the discovery. If we had a\nbroader vision, and were more fully acquainted with the relations\nof all parts of God\u2019s universe, the one to the other, and all the\nreasons of the permanent ordinances of his government, we should\nbe able to understand the necessity of partial evil to the general\ngood; we should understand, why it rains on the waste ocean, when\ndrought consigns whole countries to aridity and desolation; in a\nword, why ignorance, transgression, misery and death have a place\nin our system.\n\nAll that we now know is, that the natural laws of this system\nare universal, invariable, unbending; that physical and moral\ntendencies are the same all over our world; and we have every\nreason to believe, over all other worlds. Wherever moral beings\nkeep in harmony with these laws, there is no instance, in which\nhappiness is not the result. Men never enjoy health, vigor, and\nfelicity in disobedience to them. The whole infinite contrivance\nof everything above, around, and within us, appears directed to\ncertain benevolent issues; and all the laws of nature are in\nperfect harmony with the whole constitution of man.\n\nI shall not enter upon the subtle controversies of moral\nphilosophers, as to the fundamental principle of moral obligation,\nwhether it be expediency, the nature of things, or the will of God?\nIn my view these are rather questions about words, than things. The\nnature of things is a part of the will of God; and expediency is\nconformity to this unchanging order. An action derives its moral\ncomplexion from being conformed to the will of God, and the nature\nof things; and whatever is so conformed, is expedient; consequently\nall the different foundations of morals, when examined, are found\nto be precisely the same.\n\nMy notions of morality are, that it is conformity to the physical,\norganic and moral laws of the universe. Some will choose to\ncall it expediency; others, the will of God; and others still,\nthe constitution of things. These views, when reduced to their\nelements, are the same, call them by what names we may. We may\nobviously divide these laws into three classes. The first series we\ncall physical laws, or those which act upon the material universe,\nand upon ourselves as a part of that universe. The second we call\norganic, or those which regulate the origin, growth, well-being\nand dissolution of organized beings. The last, denominated moral,\nact chiefly on the intellectual universe. They are founded on our\nrelations to the sentient universe and God.\n\nWe infer from analogy, that these laws always have been, are, and\nalways will be, invariably the same; and that they prevail alike\nin every portion of God\u2019s universe. We so judge, because we believe\nthe existing order of things to be the wisest and the best. We\nknow that the physical laws actually do prevail alike in every\npart of our world, and as far beyond it, as the highest helps of\nastronomy can aid our researches into the depths of immensity. Is\nit not probable, that if we could investigate the system, as far as\nthe utmost stretch of thought, we should find no point, where the\nlaws of gravity, light, heat and motion do not prevail; where the\nsentient beings are not restricted to the same moral relations, as\nin our world? Wherever the empire of science has extended, we note\nthese laws equally prevalent, in a molecule and a world, and from\nthe lowest order of sentient beings up to man. The arrangement of\nthe great whole, it should seem, must be a single emanation from\nthe same wisdom and will, perfectly uniform throughout the whole\nempire. What an impressive motive to study these laws, and conform\nto them, is it, to know, that they are as irresistible, as the\ndivine power, as universal, as the divine presence, as permanent\nas the divine existence;--that there is no evading them, that no\nart can disconnect misery from transgressing them, that no change\nof place or time, that not death, nor any transformation which\nour conscious being can undergo, will, during the revolutions of\neternity, dispense any more with the necessity of observing these\nlaws, than during our present transitory existence in clay!\n\nI need not dwell a moment upon the proofs of the absolute identity\nof the physical laws. No one need be told, that a ship floats,\nwater descends, heat warms, and cold freezes, and that all physical\nproperties of matter are the same over the globe. We shall only\nshow by a few palpable examples, that our system is arranged in\nconformity to the organic laws. Every discovery in the kingdom of\nanimated nature developes new instances.\n\nIn the tropical regions, the muscular energy is less, in proportion\nas the natural fertility of the soil is greater. In colder\nlatitudes muscular energy is increased; and ruder elements, and a\nmore sterile nature, proportion their claims accordingly. In arctic\nregions no farinaceous food ripens. Sojourners in that climate\nfind, that bread and vegetable diet do not furnish the requisite\nnutriment; that pure animal food is the only sustenance that will\nthere maintain the tone of the system, imparting a delightful\nvigor and buoyancy of mind. Strange as it may seem, to conform to\nthis necessity, these dreary countries abound in infinite numbers\nand varieties of animals, fowls and fishes. The climate favors\nthe drying and preserving of animal food, which is thus prepared\nto sustain the inhabitants, when nature imprisons the material\ncreation in chains of ice, and wraps herself up in her mantle of\nsnow. Thus, if we survey the whole globe, the food, climate and\nother circumstances will be found accommodated to the inhabitants;\nand they, as far as they conform to the organic laws, will be found\nadapted to their climate and mode of subsistence.\n\nIn all positions man finds himself called upon, by the clear\nindications of the organic laws, to take that free and cheerful\nexercise, which is calculated to develope vigorous muscular,\nnervous and mental action. The laborer digs, and the hunter\nchases for subsistence; but finds at the same time health and\ncheerfulness. The penalty of the violation of this organic law by\nthe indulgence of indolence is debility, enfeebled action, both\nbodily and mental, dyspepsia with all its horrid train, and finally\ndeath. On the other hand, the penalty of over exertion, debauchery,\nintemperance, and excess of every species, comes in other forms\nof disease and suffering. These laws, though not so obviously\nand palpably so, are as invariable and inevitable, as those of\nattraction, or magnetism; and yet the great mass of our species,\neven in what we call enlightened and educated countries, do not\nrecognise, and obey them. It is in vain for them, that, from age\nto age, the same consequences have ensued, as the eternal heralds\nof the divinity, proclaiming to all people, in all languages,\nthat his laws carry their sanctions with them. One of our most\nimperious duties, then, is to study these laws, to make ourselves\nconversant with their bearing upon our pursuit of happiness, that\nwe may conform to them. When we have become acquainted with their\nuniversality and resistless power, we shall indulge no puerile hope\nthat we may enjoy the present gratification of infringing them, and\nthen evade the ultimate consequences. We shall as soon calculate\nto change condition with the tenants of the air and the waters, as\nexpect to divert any one of them from its onward course.\n\nHe then is wise, who looks round him with a searching eye to become\nfully possessed, without the coloring of sophistical wishes and\nself-deceiving expectation, of the actual conditions of his being;\nand who, instead of imagining, that the unchangeable courses of\nnature will conform to him, his ignorance, interests or passions,\nshapes his course so as to conform to them. He will no more expect,\nfor example, that he can indulge his appetites, give scope to his\npassions, and yield himself to the seductions of life, and escape\nwithout a balance of misery in consequence, than he would calculate\nto throw himself unhurt, from a mountain precipice.\n\nSo far as regards himself, he will study the organic laws, in\nreference to their bearing upon his mind, his health, his morals,\nhis happiness. He will strive to be cheerful; for he knows that it\nis a part of the constitution of things, that cheerfulness tends to\nphysical and mental health. He will accustom himself to exercise,\nand will avoid indolence, because he understands that he was formed\nto be an active being, and that he cannot yield to his slothful\npropensities, without forfeiting the delightful feeling of energy,\nand the power to operate upon events, instead of being passively\nborne along by them. He will be active, that he may feel conscious\npower. He will rise above the silent and invisible influence of\nsloth, and will exult in a feeling of force and self-command, for\nthe same reasons that the eagle loves to soar aloft, and look upon\nthe sun; because a sensation of power, and a sublime liberty are\nenjoyed in the flight. He will be temperate in the gratification\nof his appetites and passions, because he is aware, that every\nexcessive indulgence strikes a balance of suffering against him,\nwhich he must discharge soon, or late; and helps to forge a chain\nof habit, that will render it more difficult for him to resist\nthe next temptation to indulgence. He will rise early from sleep,\nbecause nature calls him to early rising, in all her cheerful\nvoices, in the matin song of birds, the balmy morning freshness\nand elasticity of the air, and the renovated cry of joy from the\nwhole animal creation. He will do this, because he has early heard\ncomplaints from all sides of the shortness of life, and because\nhe is sensible, that he who rises every day two hours before the\ncommon period, will prolong the ordinary duration of life by adding\nsix years of the pleasantest part of existence. He will rise early,\nbecause next after the intemperate, no human being offers a more\nunworthy spectacle, than is presented by the man, who calls himself\nrational and immortal, who sees before him a greater amount of\nknowledge, duty and happiness, than he could hope to compass in\na thousand years; and who yet turns himself indolently from side\nto side, during the hours of the awakening of nature, enjoying\nonly the luxury of a savage or a brute, in a state of dozing\nexistence little superior to the dreamless sleep of the grave. I\ntest the character of a youth of whom I wish to entertain hope,\nby this criterion. If he can nobly resist his propensities, if he\ncan act from reason against his inclinations, if he can trample\nindolence under foot, if he can always make the effort to show the\nintellectual in the ascendant over the animal being, I note him as\none, who will be worthy of eminence, whether he attain it or not.\n\nIn a word, there is something of dignity and intellectual grandeur\nin the aspect of the young, who live in obedience to the organic\nand moral laws, which commands at once that undefined, and almost\nunconscious estimation and respect, which all minds involuntarily\npay to true greatness. Such was the image of the poet, when he\ndelineated the angel _severe in youthful beauty_; and such that\nof the Mantuan, when he compares Neptune rebuking and hushing the\nwinds, to a venerable man, allaying by his words of peace, the\nuproar of an infuriated populace.\n\nWere I to enter into details of your obligations to understand and\nobey these laws, as they relate to the various periods, pursuits\nand duties of life, I should offer you a volume, instead of an\noutline, which, from the examples given, your own thoughts can\neasily fill out. But that I may not leave these momentous duties\nwholly untouched, I shall dwell a moment on their bearing upon a\nmost important epoch of life, one which, perhaps more than any\nother, gives the color to future years either of happiness or\nmisery.\n\nWhen the young reach that period, when nature invokes them to\nassume the obligations of connubial life, this knowledge and\nconformity will cause them to pause, and reflect on what is before\nthem, and will interdict them from following the inconsiderate\nthrong, in entering into that decisive condition, consulting no\nother lights, than a morbid fancy, those impulses which are common\nto all other animals, or sordid calculations of interest. They are\nwell apprized, that the declamations of satire, and the bitter\nand common jest of all civilized people, upon wedded life, have\nbut too much foundation in truth. They perceive at a glance, that\nthose who with such views take on them the obligations of the\nconjugal state have no right to hope anything better than satiety,\nill-humor, monotonous disgust, and the insupportable imprisonment\nof two persons, in intimate and indissoluble partnership, who find\nweariness and penance in being together, who are reminded, at once\nby the void in their hearts, and their mutual inability to fill it,\nthat they must not only endure the pain of being chained together,\nbut feel, that they are thus barred from a happier union, partly\nby shame, partly by public opinion, and, more than all, by the\nobstacles, wisely thrown by all civilized nations in the way of\nobtaining divorce. There can be no doubt, that the common views\nof the universal unhappiness of the wedded state in all Christian\ncountries are the result of gross exaggeration. Making all\nallowances for errors from this source, language is too feeble, to\ndelineate the countless and unutterable miseries, that, in all time\nsince the institution of marriage, as recognised by Christianity,\nhave resulted from these incompatible unions, for the simple\nreason, that, in this transaction, of so much more moment than\nalmost any other, scarcely one of the parties in a thousand, it is\nbelieved, takes the least note of it in relation to the organic\nand moral laws. The young and the aged, the feeble and the strong,\nthe healthy and the diseased, the beautiful and the deformed,\nthe mild and the fierce, the intellectual and the purely animal,\nthe rich and the poor, bring their incompatibilities to a common\nstock, add ruinous excesses of temperament together, unite under a\nspell, reckless of the live-long consequences involved, and arouse\nfrom a short trance to the conscious and sober sadness of waking\nmisery. To them the hackneyed declamations against marriage have\na terrible import. Weariness, discontent, ennui, relieved only by\nthe fierceness of domestic discord, and a wretchedness aggravated\nby the consciousness that there is no escape from it, but by death,\nis the issue of a union consummated under illusive expectations of\nmore than mortal happiness. How many millions have found this to be\nthe reality of their youthful dreams! Yet if this most important\nunion is contracted under animal impulses, without any regard to\nmoral and intellectual considerations, without any investigation of\nthe organic and social fitness of the case, without inquiry into\nthe compatibility, without a mutual understanding of temperament,\ndispositions, and habits; who cannot foresee, that the propensities\nwill soon languish in satiety; that repentance and discord and\ndisgust and disaffection and loathing, in proportion to the\nremembered raptures forever passed away, will rudely open the eyes\nof the parties to their real and permanent condition, and that by\na law as certain and inevitable, as that which propels water down\na precipice! And this is not the darkest shade in the picture. By\nthe same laws children are born with the doubled excess of the\ntemperaments of their parents; or puny, undeveloped and feeble, or\nracked by all the fiercer passions of our nature. Opening their\neyes in this scene, which the guilty thoughtlessness of successive\ngenerations has rendered little better than a vast lazar house,\nevil example, gloom, unregulated tempers, repining and misery are\ntheir first and last spectacles. They advance into life to repeat\nthe errors of their parents, to make common stock of their misery\nanew, to multiply the number of the unhappy, or perhaps worse, to\ntenant hospitals, and the receptacles of human ignorance and misery.\n\nCan any question be imagined in life, in regard to which you ought\nso deliberately to pause, investigate and weigh all the bearings\nof the case? And yet can any other important transaction be named,\nupon which, in this view, so little thought is bestowed, and which\nis entered into with such reckless blindness to consequences?\nHe, who determines to respect the laws of his being, will study\nhis own temperament, and that of the other party, and weigh the\nexcesses and defects, as one convinced by the general analogy\nof animated nature, that the physical and mental character, the\nconstitutional and moral temperament of the offspring, in the\nordinary course of things, will be a compound of that of the\nparents. If he find himself subject to any peculiar corporeal\ninfirmity, hereditary tendency to disease, overbearing propensities\ntowards indulgence, or excess, unbalanced passions, or morbid\nmental obliquity, he will be studiously solicitous, that the other\nparty shall not be laboring under similar disqualifications. I may\nnot follow out the subordinate details. Your thoughts cannot but\nsuggest innumerable considerations, that I pass in silence. Will\nany moral being, capable of conscientious views of the ultimate\nbearing of his actions, dare to treat this subject, all momentous\nas it is, with unphilosophic levity and ridicule? Will any one\nsay, that such discussions ought to be pretermitted by a parent? I\naffirm, that such are not my notions of the obligations of decorum\nand propriety. The world has been too long peopled with mere\nanimals bound by the laws, and doomed to the responsibilities of\nrationality, and yet acting like the orders below them, without a\ncapacity for finding their happiness. If, being men, and inheriting\neither the privileges, or the doom of men, we will choose to\nconsider ourselves merely as animals, shall we dare to arraign\nProvidence, or fill the world with murmurs, if we enjoy not the\npeculiar pleasures of either race, and are subject to the miseries\nof both? When you are aware that such considerations must affect\nnot only your own happiness, or misery, but that of your offspring,\na whole coming generation, and the hopes of the regeneration and\nimprovement of a world, you will be sensible, that silence in such\na discussion would be guilty pride. I perfectly coincide with the\nconclusions of Combe upon this subject, and transcribe for your\nbenefit an admirable exposition of my views from the notes appended\nto his book on the _Constitution of Man_.\n\n\u2018It is a very common error, not only among philosophers, but among\npractical men, to imagine that the _feelings_ of the mind are\ncommunicated to it through the medium of the _intellect_; and,\nin particular, that if no indelicate objects reach the eyes, or\nexpressions penetrate the ears, perfect purity will necessarily\nreign within the soul; and, carrying this mistake into practice,\nthey are prone to object to all discussion of the subjects treated\nof under the \u2018Organic Laws,\u2019 in works designed for general use.\nBut their principle of reasoning is fallacious, and the practical\nresult has been highly detrimental to society. The _feelings_\nhave existence and activity distinct from the _intellect_; they\nspur it on to obtain their own gratification; and it may become\neither their slave or guide, according as it is enlightened\nconcerning their constitution and objects, and the laws of nature\nto which they are subjected. The most profound philosophers have\ninculcated this doctrine; and, by phrenological observation, it is\ndemonstrably established. The organs of the feelings are distinct\nfrom those of the intellectual faculties; they are larger; and, as\neach faculty, _c\u00e6teris paribus_, acts with a power proportionate\nto the size of its organ, the feelings are obviously the active\nor impelling powers. The cerebellum, or organ of Amativeness, is\nthe largest of the whole mental organs; and, being endowed with\nnatural activity, it fills the mind spontaneously with emotions\nand suggestions which may be directed, controlled and resisted, in\noutward manifestation, by intellect and moral sentiment, but which\ncannot be prevented from arising nor eradicated after they exist.\nThe whole question, therefore, resolves itself into this, Whether\nit is most beneficial to enlighten and direct that feeling, or\n(under the influence of an error in philosophy, and false delicacy\nfounded on it), to permit it to riot in all the fierceness of a\nblind animal instinct, withdrawn from the eye of reason, but not\nthereby deprived of its vehemence and importunity. The former\ncourse appears to me to be the only one consistent with reason and\nmorality; and I have adopted it in reliance on the good sense of\nmy readers, that they will at once discriminate between practical\ninstruction concerning this feeling, addressed to the intellect,\nand lascivious representations addressed to the mere propensity\nitself; with the latter of which the enemies of all improvement\nmay attempt to confound my observations. Every function of the\nmind and body is instituted by the Creator; all may be abused;\nand it is impossible regularly to avoid abuse of them, except by\nbeing instructed in their nature, objects, and relations. This\ninstruction ought to be addressed exclusively to the intellect; and\nwhen it is so, it is science of the most beneficial description.\nThe propriety, nay, necessity, of acting on this principle, becomes\nmore and more apparent, when it is considered that the discussions\nof the text suggest only intellectual ideas to individuals in\nwhom the feeling in question is naturally weak, and that such\nminds perceive no indelicacy in knowledge which is calculated to\nbe useful; while, on the other hand, persons in whom the feeling\nis naturally strong, are precisely those who stand in need of\ndirection, and to whom, of all others, instruction is the most\nnecessary.\u2019\n\nNo art in these days is better understood, by those who have\nfound their interest in investigating the subject, than that of\nimproving the races of the lower animals. Every species, upon which\nthe effort has been made, has been found perfectly subservient\nto the art. The desirable forms and qualities are selected, and\nthe proper means of improvement applied. The wished result is not\nobtained to its full extent in the first generation; but a uniform\napproximation commences; and every successive amelioration brings\nthe animal nearer to the requisite standard. The whole art is\nfounded on observation of the organic laws of the races, and the\ngeneral fact, that the instincts, qualities, temperament, form and\ncolor of the animals are hereditary, and transmissible. These are\ntruths so well known, that the grazier, and the shepherd apply\nthem constantly in rearing their domestic animals. Shall they be\ndisregarded, when it becomes known, that they bear equally upon\nthe improvement of man, _next in dignity to angels_? Shall these\nconsiderations rear a nobler race of animals, and, by overlooking\nthem, shall man alone be consigned to degradation?\n\n\n\n\nLETTER III.\n\nTHE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.\n\n\nI proceed to examples and developments of the doctrine, chiefly\ninsisted upon in the former letter. I draw them chiefly from Mr\nCombe, premising, that they exactly coincide with views which\nyou cannot but remember to have heard me advance, before I had\nread his book on _the constitution of man_. It is a law of the\nanimal creation, that not only the natural but even the acquired\nqualities are transmitted by parents to their offspring; and man,\nas an organized being, is subject to laws similar to those which\ngovern the organization of the lower animals. \u2018Children,\u2019 says Dr\nPritchard, \u2018resemble in feature and constitution both parents; but\nI think more generally the father.\u2019 Changes produced by external\ncauses in the constitution and appearance of the individual are\ntemporary; and, in general, acquired characters are transient,\nterminating with the individual, and having no influence on the\nprogeny. The mental development of the Circassian race is known\nto be of the highest order. The nobles of Persia are children of\nCircassian mothers, and they are remarkable, in that country, for\ntheir mental and corporeal superiority over the other classes.\nEvery one acquainted with the condition of our southern slaves,\nwell understands the obvious fact, that the mulattoes are much\nsuperior, in quickness and capability of acquiring and retaining\nknowledge, to the negroes. The Indian half-breeds are remarkable\nfor the immediate ascendency, which they acquire in their\ntribes over the full-blooded Indians. In oriental India, the\nintermarriages of the Hindoos with Europeans have produced an\nintermediate race much superior to the natives, and destined, it\nis already predicted, to be the future sovereigns of India. In\nfact, physiology has deduced no conclusion more certain, than that,\nin ordinary cases, the temperament and intellect of the children\nare a compound of that of their parents. Of this I might produce\ninnumerable instances from history of the Alexanders, C\u00e6sars, and\nAntonines, the distinguished great and wise, of ancient and modern\ntimes; and equally, in the opposite direction, in the Neros and\nCaligulas, the depraved and abandoned of all ages and countries,\nwhere observation has been able to trace their parentage.\n\nOne of the most fertile sources of human misery, then, arises\nfrom persons uniting in marriage, whose tempers, talents and\ndispositions do not harmonize. If it be true that natural talents\nand dispositions are connected by the Creator with particular\nconstitutions of the parents, it is obviously one of his\ninstitutions, that these constitutions should be most seriously\ntaken into the calculation in forming a compact for life. The\nCreator, having formed such ordinances in the unchangeable\narrangements of nature, as to confer happiness, when they are\ndiscovered and observed, and misery, when they are unknown or\nunobserved, it is obviously our best wisdom to investigate and\nrespect them. If individuals, after this truth reaches their\nconviction should go on, in imitation of the common example, to\nform reckless connexions, which can only eventuate in sorrow, it is\nobvious that they must do so either from contempt of the effects\nof this influence upon the happiness of domestic life, and a\nsecret belief, that they may in some way evade its consequences,\nor from the predominance of avarice, or some other animal feeling,\nprecluding them from yielding obedience to what they see to be an\ninstitution of the Creator.\n\nAt the first aspect of this subject three alternatives are\npresented, one of which, it should seem, must have a determining\npower upon the offspring. Either, in the first place, the corporeal\nand mental constitution, which the parents themselves inherit at\nbirth, are transmitted so absolutely, as that the children are\nexact copies of the parents, without variation or modification, sex\nfollowing sex; or, in the second place, the inherent qualities of\nthe father and mother combine, and are transmitted in a modified\nform to the offspring; or, thirdly, the qualities of the children\nare determined jointly by the constitution of the parents, and the\nfaculties and temperaments, which predominated in power and energy\nat the particular period, when the organic existence of the child\ncommenced.\n\nIf these views are correct, and if a man and woman about to marry,\nhave not only their own domestic happiness but that of five or\nmore human beings depending on their attention to considerations\nessentially the same as the foregoing, how differently ought this\ncontract to be viewed from the common aspect, which it presents to\npersons assuming its solemn stipulations! Yet it is astonishing, to\nwhat extent pecuniary and other minor considerations will induce\nmen to investigate and observe the natural laws; and how small an\ninfluence moral and rational considerations exert upon this most\nimportant of all earthly connexions.\n\nI cannot forbear, under this head, quoting entire another passage\nfrom the author, from whom I have substantially drawn many of the\nforegoing observations.\n\n\u2018Rules, however, are best taught by examples; and I shall,\ntherefore, proceed to mention some facts that have fallen under\nmy own notice, or been communicated to me from authentic sources,\nillustrative of the practical consequences of infringing the law of\nhereditary descent.\n\n\u2018A man, aged about fifty, possessed a brain, in which the animal,\nmoral, and knowing intellectual organs were all strong, but the\nreflecting weak. He was pious, but destitute of education; he\nmarried an unhealthy young woman, deficient in moral development,\nbut of considerable force of character; and several children were\nborn. The father and mother were far from being happy; and, when\nthe children attained to eighteen or twenty years of age, they were\nadepts in every species of immorality and profligacy; they picked\ntheir father\u2019s pockets, stole his goods, and got them sold back\nto him, by accomplices, for money, which was spent in betting and\ncock-fighting, drinking, and low debauchery. The father was heavily\ngrieved; but knowing only two resources, he beat the children\nseverely as long as he was able, and prayed for them; his words\nwere, that \u201cif, _after that_, it pleased the Lord to make vessels\nof wrath of them, the Lord\u2019s will must just be done.\u201d I mention\nthis last observation, not in jest, but in great seriousness. It\nwas impossible not to pity the unhappy father; yet who that sees\nthe institutions of the Creator to be in themselves wise, but in\nthis instance to have been directly violated, will not acknowledge\nthat the bitter pangs of the poor old man were the consequences of\nhis own ignorance; and that it was an erroneous view of the divine\nadministration, which led him to overlook his own mistakes, and to\nattribute to the Almighty the purpose of making vessels of wrath\nof his children, as the only explanation which he could give of\ntheir wicked dispositions. Who that sees the cause of his misery\nmust not lament that his piety should not have been enlightened by\nphilosophy, and directed to obedience, in the first instance, to\nthe organic institutions of the Creator, as one of the prescribed\nconditions, without observance of which he had no title to expect a\nblessing upon his offspring.\n\n\u2018In another instance, a man, in whom the animal organs,\nparticularly those of Combativeness and Destructiveness, were very\nlarge, but with a pretty fair moral and intellectual development,\nmarried, against her inclination, a young woman, fashionably\nand showily educated, but with a very decided deficiency in\nConscientiousness. They soon became unhappy, and even blows were\nsaid to have passed between them, although they belonged to the\nmiddle rank of life. The mother, in this case, employed the\nchildren to deceive and plunder the father, and, latterly, spent\nthe produce in drink. The sons inherited the deficient morality of\nthe mother, and the ill temper of the father. The family fireside\nbecame a theatre of war, and, before the sons attained a majority,\nthe father was glad to get them removed from his house, as the\nonly means by which he could feel even his life in safety from\ntheir violence; for they had by that time retaliated the blows with\nwhich he had visited them in their younger years; and he stated\nthat he actually considered his life to be in danger from his own\noffspring.\n\n\u2018In another family, the mother possesses an excellent development\nof the moral and intellectual organs, while, in the father, the\nanimal organs predominate in great excess. She has been the unhappy\nvictim of ceaseless misfortune, originating from the misconduct\nof her husband. Some of the children have inherited the father\u2019s\nbrain, and some the mother\u2019s; and of the sons whose heads resembled\nthe father\u2019s, several have died through mere debauchery and\nprofligacy under thirty years of age; whereas, those who resemble\nthe mother are alive and little contaminated, even amidst all the\ndisadvantages of evil example.\n\n\u2018On the other hand, I am not acquainted with a single instance\nin which the moral and intellectual organs predominated in size,\nin both father and mother, and whose external circumstances also\npermitted their general activity, in which the _whole_ children\ndid not partake of a moral and intellectual character, differing\nslightly in degrees of excellence one from another, but all\npresenting the decided predominance of the human over the animal\nfaculties.\n\n\u2018There are well-known examples of the children of religious\nand moral fathers exhibiting dispositions of a very inferior\ndescription; but in all of these instances that I have been able to\nobserve, there has been a large development of the animal organs\nin the one parent, which was just controlled, but not much more,\nby the moral and intellectual powers; and in the other parent,\nthe _moral_ organs did not appear to be in large proportion. The\nunfortunate child inherited the large animal development of the\none, with the defective moral development of the other; and, in\nthis way, was inferior to both. The way to satisfy one\u2019s self on\nthis point, is to examine the heads of the parents. In all such\ncases, a large base of the brain, which is the region of the animal\npropensities, will very probably be found in one or other of them.\n\n\u2018Another organic law of the animal kingdom deserves attention; viz.\nthat by which marriages betwixt blood relations tend decidedly\nto the deterioration of the physical and mental qualities of\nthe offspring. In Spain, kings marry their nieces, and, in this\ncountry, first and second cousins marry without scruple; although\nevery philosophical physiologist will declare that this is in\ndirect opposition to the institutions of nature. This law holds\nalso in the vegetable kingdom. \u201cA provision, of a very simple kind,\nis, in some cases, made to prevent the male and female blossoms of\nthe same plant from breeding together, this being found to hurt the\nbreed of vegetables, just as breeding in and in does the breed of\nanimals. It is contrived, that the dust shall be shed by the male\nblossom before the female is ready to be affected by it, so that\nthe impregnation must be performed by the dust of some other plant,\nand in this way the breed be crossed.\u201d\u2019\n\nSuch considerations, I hope, will induce you to exercise cautious\nexamination of this subject, if either of you should ever be placed\nin circumstances to contemplate assuming the duties of the wedded\nlife. If you do not, you will have cast the pursuit of happiness\nupon the die of chance at the very outset of your career. Allow me,\nbefore I dismiss the book, from which I have already so liberally\nquoted, to extract one passage more, touching the application of\nthe natural laws to the practical arrangements of life.\n\n\u2018If a system of living and occupation were to be framed for human\nbeings, founded on the exposition of their nature, which I have now\ngiven, it would be something like this.\n\n\u20181st. So many hours a day would require to be dedicated by every\nindividual in health, to the exercise of his nervous and muscular\nsystems, in labor calculated to give scope to these functions. The\nreward of obeying this requisite of his nature would be health, and\na joyous animal existence; the punishment of neglect is disease,\nlow spirits and death.\n\n\u20182dly. So many hours a day should be spent in the sedulous\nemployment of the knowing and reflecting faculties; in studying\nthe qualities of external objects, and their relations; also the\nnature of all animated beings, and their relations; not with the\nview of accumulating mere abstract and barren knowledge, but of\nenjoying the positive pleasure of mental activity, and of turning\nevery discovery to account, as a means of increasing happiness, or\nalleviating misery. The leading object should always be to find\nout the relationship of every object to our own nature, organic,\nanimal, moral, and intellectual, and to keep that relationship\nhabitually in mind, so as to render our acquirements directly\ngratifying to our various faculties. The reward of this conduct\nwould be an incalculably great increase of pleasure, in the very\nact of acquiring knowledge of the real properties of external\nobjects, together with a great accession of power in reaping\nulterior advantages, and in avoiding disagreeable affections.\n\n\u20183dly. So many hours a day ought to be devoted to the cultivation\nand gratification of our moral sentiments; that is to say, in\nexercising these in harmony with intellect, and especially in\nacquiring the habit of admiring, loving, and yielding obedience\nto the Creator and his institutions. This last object is of vast\nimportance. Intellect is barren of practical fruit, however rich\nit may be in knowledge, until it is fired and prompted to act by\nmoral sentiment. In my view, knowledge by itself is comparatively\nworthless and impotent, compared with what it becomes when\nvivified by elevated emotions. It is not enough that intellect\nis informed; the moral faculties must simultaneously cooperate;\nyielding obedience to the precepts which the intellect recognises\nto be true. One way of cultivating the sentiments would be for men\nto meet and act together, on the fixed principles which I am now\nendeavoring to unfold, and to exercise on each other in mutual\ninstruction, and in united adoration of the great and glorious\nCreator, the several faculties of Benevolence, Veneration, Hope,\nIdeality, Wonder, and Justice. The reward of acting in this manner\nwould be a communication of direct and intense pleasure to each\nother; for I refer to every individual who has ever had the good\nfortune to pass a day or an hour with a really benevolent, pious,\nhonest, and intellectual man, whose soul swelled with adoration\nof his Creator, whose intellect was replenished with knowledge\nof his works, and whose whole mind was instinct with sympathy\nfor human happiness, whether such a day did not afford him the\nmost pure, elevated, and lasting gratification he ever enjoyed.\nSuch an exercise, besides, would invigorate the whole moral and\nintellectual powers, and fit them to discover and obey the divine\ninstitutions.\u2019\n\nYou will study, and obey the moral laws of the universe, of which\nyou are a part, because you are moral beings, and because obedience\nto these laws constitutes the tie of affinity between you, the\nhigher orders of being and the divinity. You will respect them,\nbecause it is the glory of your nature, that you alone, of all\ncreatures below, are morally subject to them. Laying out of the\nquestion their momentous sanctions in the eternal future, you must\nbe aware, that the Creator has annexed pleasure to obeying them,\nand pain to their violation as inevitably, as gravity belongs\nto matter. One would think, it must be enough to determine the\nconduct of a being, who laid claim to the character of rational,\nto know, that no art nor dexterity, that no repentance nor return\nto obedience, can avert the consequences of a single violation of\nthese laws; and that no imaginable present good can counterbalance\nthe future misery, that must accrue in consequence.\n\nIn regard, for example, to the practice of the most common and\nevery day duties, who can doubt the truth of the trite adage,\n_honesty is the best policy_? This is, in effect, no more than\nsaying, that the moral laws of the universe are constituted upon\nsuch principles, as to make it every man\u2019s interest to obey\nthem. It is as certain, that they are so constituted, as that\nfire will burn, or water drown you; and when you understand this\nconstitution, it marks the same want of a sane mind to violate\nthem, as to be unable to keep out of these elements. Yet the\ngreater portion of the species do not constantly act upon a full\nbelief in this hackneyed maxim. They think apparently, that they\ncan in some way obtain the imagined advantage of dishonesty and\nevade the connected evil, not aware, that detection and diminished\nconfidence may be avoided, for once or twice; but not the loss of\nself-respect, the pureness and integrity of internal principle,\nthe certainty of forging the first link in a chain of bad habits,\nand a thousand painful consequences, which it would be easy to\nenumerate in detail. Almost every one deems that he may safely put\nforth every day false compliment, double-dealing, deception on a\nsmall scale, and little frauds, not cognisable by any law or code\nof honor. In a word, if actions are a test of the sincerity of\nconviction, very few really are convinced that _honesty is the best\npolicy_.\n\nWe hold the man insane who should leap from a high building upon\nthe pavement, or attempt to grapple with the blind power of the\nelements. But it is scarcely the subject of our remark, that the\nmultitude about us, in the most important, as well as the minute\nconcerns of life, live in habitual recklessness or violation of the\norganic and moral laws; and yet we certainly know, that whoever\ninfringes them is as sure to pay the penalty, as he who madly\nplaces himself in opposition to the material laws. I can never\npresent this astonishing and universal blindness in too many forms\nof repetition, if the effect is to bring you to view these two\nspecies of folly in the same light.\n\nThe reason clearly is, that in too many instances, men take no\npains to acquaint themselves with these laws, and their bearing\nupon the constitution of man; or, deceived by the clamors of the\ninclinations, and the illusions of present pleasure and advantage,\nwhen balanced with future and remote penalties, they commit the\ninfractions, and hope, that between the certain pleasure and the\ndistant and contingent pain, they can interpose some evasion,\nand sever the consequences from the fault. The expectation always\nends, like the alchymist\u2019s dream, and the projector\u2019s perpetual\nmotion. Even in the apprehension of the consequences, the mind is\npaying the penalty of an unquiet conscience, and of an abatement\nof self-confidence, and self-respect, penalties, which very few\nearthly pleasures can compensate.\n\nWhen I speak of these unchangeable laws, as emanations from\nthe divine wisdom and goodness, as transcripts of the divine\nimmutability, and as being the best of all possible arrangements,\nnot to be superseded, or turned from their course by the wisest\nof beings, you will not understand me to bear upon the consoling\nand scriptural doctrine of providence. I firmly believe, and trust\nin it; not, however, in the popular view. It would not increase\nmy veneration for the Almighty, to suppose that his laws required\nexceptions and variations, to meet particular cases; nor that\nthey would call for frequent suspensions and changes, to provide\nfor contingencies not foreseen at the commencement of the mighty\nmovements. Such are not the grounds of my trust in the wisdom\nand goodness of the Supreme Being. I neither desire, nor expect\nany deviation of laws, as wise and good as they can be, in their\ngeneral operation, to meet my particular wishes, or those of the\nfriends most dear to me. I expect, that none of the powers of\nnature will change for me; I encourage no insane hopes, that things\nwill forego their tendencies to meet my conveniences or pleasures.\nPrayer is a duty equally comforting and elevating; but my prayers\nare not, that these fixed laws of the divine wisdom may change for\nme; but that I may understand and conform to them. The providence,\nin which I believe, supposes no exceptions, infringements, or\nviolations of the universal plan of the divine government. Miracles\nonly seem such to us, because we see but a link or two in the\nendless chain of that plan. An ingenious mechanician constructs a\nclock, which will run many years, and only once in the whole period\nstrike an alarm bell. It is a miracle to those who comprehend not,\nthat it was part of the original plan of the mechanician. May we\nnot with more probability adopt the same reasoning, in relation to\nthe recorded miracles, as parts of the original plan of the Eternal?\n\nPiety, established upon a knowledge of these laws, and a respect\nfor them, and associated with veneration for their author, is\nrational, consistent, firm and manly. It seeks, it expects nothing\nin the puerile presumption, that the ordinances of a code, fitted\nfor the whole system of the Creator, will be wrested to the wants\nof an insect. In docility and meekness it labors for conformity to\nthose ordinances; in other words, to the divine will. It violates\nno principle, and calls for the exercise of no faith, that is\nrepugnant to the dictates of common sense, and the teaching of\ncommon observation. Piety, founded on such views, abides the\nscrutiny of the severest investigation. No vacillation of the mind\nfrom varying fortunes, no questionings of unbelief, doubt and\ndespair, can shake it. It rests firmly on the basis of the divine\nattributes. It holds fast to the golden chain, the last link of\nwhich is riveted to the throne of the Eternal.\n\nThus it seems to me indispensable, as a pre-requisite to the\npursuit of happiness, that the inquirer should hold large discourse\nwith the physical, organic and moral laws; that he should carefully\ninvestigate their whole bearing upon his constitution; that he\nshould trace all their influences on him from the first hour, in\nwhich he opens his eyes on the light, to his departure out of life.\nI insist the more earnestly upon this, because in these days the\nstudy of the moral relations of things seems to me comparatively\nabandoned. The exact and natural sciences are studied, rather,\nit would seem, as an end, than a means. Natural philosophy,\nmathematics and astronomy may be highly useful; but who will\ncompare these sciences, in regard to their utility and importance,\nwith those, which guide the mind to their author, which teach the\nknowledge of his moral laws, which instruct us how to allay the\npassions, to moderate our expectations, and to establish morality\non the basis of our regard to our own happiness?\n\nIf, then, you would give yourself to the patient study of the\nnatural sciences, that you may gain reputation and the ability to\nbe useful, much more earnestly will you study regimen, exercise,\ntemperance, moderation, cheerfulness, the benefits of a balanced\nmind, and of a wise and philosophic conformity to an order of\nthings, not a tittle of which you can change, that you may be\nresigned, useful and happy. All knowledge, which cannot be turned\nto this account, either as relates to yourselves, or others, is\nuseless.\n\nInnumerable counsels, in relation to your habits, your pleasures\nand pursuits, your studies, your tastes and modes of conduct, your\n_beau id\u00e9al_ of natural and moral beauty, your standard of dignity\nand worth of character, press upon my mind, and all in some way\nconnected with the views, which I have just taken. But I shall\nbe able to present such of them as I may deem worthy to find a\nplace in these letters, perhaps with most propriety and effect, as\nsuggested in the form of notes[B] appended to the chapters of the\nessay of M. Droz, a paraphrase of which I now offer you.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER IV.\n\nGENERAL VIEWS OF THE SUBJECT.\n\n\nMan is created to be happy.[1] His desires and the wisdom of the\nCreator concur to prove the assertion. Yet the earth resounds with\nthe complaints of the unhappy, although they are encompassed with\nthe means of enjoyment, of which they appear to know neither the\nvalue nor the use. They resemble the shipwrecked mariner, on a\ndesert isle, surrounded with fruits, of the flavors and properties\nof which he is ignorant, as he is doubtful whether they offer\naliment or poison.\n\nI was early impelled to investigate the character and motives\nof the crowd around me, eagerly rushing forward in pursuit of\nhappiness. I soon noted multitudes relinquishing the chase in\nindolent despondency. They affirmed to me that they no longer\nbelieved in the existence of happiness. I felt an insatiate\ncraving, and saw life through the illusive coloring of youth.\nUnwilling to resign my hopes, I inquired of others, who seemed\npossessed of greater strength of mind, and more weight of\ncharacter, if they could guide me to the place of happiness? Some\nanswered with an ill-concealed smile of derision, and others with\nbitterness. They declared that in their view the pleasures of life\nwere more than counterbalanced by its pains. Because they were\ndisappointed and discouraged, they deemed that their superior\nwisdom had enabled them to strip off the disguises of life, and\ncontemplate it with sullen resignation.\n\nI remarked others in high places, whose restless activity and\nbrilliance dazzled the multitude and inspired envy. I eagerly asked\nof them the secret of happiness. Too proud and self-satisfied to\ndissemble, they made little effort to conceal their principles.\nI saw their hearts contracted by the vileness of egotism, and\ndevoured with measureless ambition. A faithful scrutiny, which\npenetrated beyond their dazzling exterior, showed me the righteous\nreaction of their principles, and convinced me that they suffered\naccording to their deserts.\n\nWeary and disheartened, I left them, and repaired to the class of\nstern and austere moralists. They represented the world to me as\na melancholy and mysterious valley, through which the sojourner\npasses, groaning on his way to the grave. Their doctrines inspired\nme at once with sadness and terror. I soon resumed the elastic\nconfidence of youth, and replied, \u2018I will never believe that the\nAuthor of my being, who has imaged in my heart such pure and\ntranquil pleasures, who has rendered man capable of chaste love,\nand of friendship in its sanctity, who has formed us innocent\nbefore we could practise virtue, and who has connected the\nsalutary bitterness of repentance with errors, has unalterably\nwilled our misery.\u2019\n\nThence I passed to the opposite extreme, and accosted a gay and\nreckless throng, whose deportment showed that they had found the\nobject of my pursuit. I discovered them to be fickle by character,\nand vacillating from indifference. They had only escaped the errors\nof the moralists, by substituting, in place of their austere\nmaxims, enjoyments without any regard to consequences. I asked\nthem to point me to happiness. Without comprehending the import\nof my question, they offered me participation in their pleasures.\nBut I saw them prodigal of life, dissipating years in a few days,\nand reserving the remnant of their existence for unavailing\nrepentance.[2]\n\nIn view of so many observations, I abandoned the idea of guiding\nmy researches by the counsels of others; and began to inquire\nfor the secret in my own bosom. I heard the multitude around me\ncomplaining, in disappointment and discouragement. I resolved,\nthat I would not commence the pursuit of happiness by servilely\nfollowing in their beaten path. I determined to reflect, and\npatiently investigate a subject of so much moment. I detected\nat once the error of the common impression, that pleasure and\nhappiness are the same. The former, fickle and fleeting, assumes\nforms as various as human caprice; and its most attractive charm\nis novelty. The object which gives it birth today, ceases to\nplease, or inspires disgust tomorrow. The perception of happiness\nis not thus changeable and transient. It creates the consciousness\nof an existence so tranquil and satisfying, that the longer we\nexperience it, the more we desire to prolong its duration.\n\nAnother mistaken, though common impression is, that the more\nprofoundly we reflect, and make the pursuit of happiness a study,\nthe less we shall be likely to enjoy. This is an error not only\nin regard to happiness, but even pleasure. If it be innocent and\nexempt from danger, to analyze it, and reason upon it, so far from\ndiminishing, prolongs the delight, and renders it higher. Without\nreflection we only skim its surface; we do not penetrate, and enjoy\nit.\n\nLet us observe the few, who have acquired the wisdom to enjoy\nthat existence, which the multitude waste. In their festal unions\nof friendship, let us mark the development of their desire to\nmultiply the happy moments of life. By what ingenious and pleasant\ndiscussions do they heighten the charms of their condition! With\nwhat delicacy of tact do they analyze their enjoyments, to taste\nthem with a more prolonged and exquisite relish! With what skill do\nthey discipline themselves sometimes to efface the images of the\nfuture, that nothing may embitter, or distract their relish of the\npresent; and sometimes to invoke remembrances and hopes, to impart\nto it still brighter embellishments!\n\nContrary to the prevalent impression, I therefore deem that, to\nreflect much upon it, is one of the wisest means in the pursuit of\nhappiness. The first analysis of reflection, it is true, dispels\nthe charm with which youth invests existence. It forces the\nconviction upon us, that the pleasures of life are less durable,\nand its forms more numerous and prolonged, than we had anticipated.\nThe first result of the process is discouragement. But, as we\ncontinue to reflect, objects change their aspect a second time.\nThe evils which at the first glance seemed so formidable, lose a\nportion of their terrific semblance; and the fleeting pleasures\nof existence receive new attractions from their analogy to human\nweakness.\n\nThey mistake, too, who suppose that the art on which I write has\nnever been taught. The sages of Greece investigated the science of\nhappiness as eloquently and profoundly, as they studied the other\nsciences. They wisely held the latter in estimation only so far\nas they were subservient to the former. In all succeeding ages\nthere have arisen a few thinking men, who have regarded all their\nfaculties, their advantages of nature and fortune, their studies\nand acquirements, not as ends in themselves, but as means conducive\nto the right pursuit of happiness.\n\nSo long a period has elapsed since this has been a subject of\ninvestigation, that when the opinion is advanced that this pursuit\nmay be successfully conducted by system, its rules reduced to an\nart, and thus become assimilated to those of the other arts, most\nmen are utterly incredulous.[3] No truth, however, is more simple.\nTo attain to a knowledge of the rules, it is only requisite, as in\nthe other arts, that there should be natural dispositions for the\nstudy, favorable circumstances, and an assiduous investigation of\nthe precepts.\n\nThe influence of fortunate dispositions for this study is chiefly\ndiscernible in men of marked and energetic character. Some are\nendowed by nature with such firmness and force of character, that\nmisfortune cannot shake them. It slides, if I may so speak, over\nthe surface of their stoical hearts, and the shock of adversity\ninspires them almost with a sort of pleasure, calling forth the\nconscious feeling of power and independence for resistance. But\nwe observe the greater number shrinking from affliction, and\neven images of sadness, enjoying the present without apparent\nconsciousness, and forgetting the past without regret. Always\nfickle and frivolous, they evade suffering by recklessness and\ngayety. The most perfect organization for happiness[4] imparts at\nthe same time great force to resist the pains of life, and keen\nsensibility to enjoy its pleasures. I am aware that great energy\nand quick sensibility are generally supposed to be incompatible\nqualities; I have, nevertheless, often seen them united. I would\nlay down precepts, by which to obtain the combination. By a more\nperfect education, it is hoped that, in the ages to come, this\nunion may become general.\n\nPerhaps some will ask, if he who thus assumes to teach the art\nof happiness has himself learned to be constantly happy? Endowed\nwith a moderate share of philosophy, and aided by favorable\ncircumstances, I have thus far found the pleasures of life greatly\noverbalancing its pains. But who can hope felicity without alloy?\nI would not conceal that I have had my share of inquietudes and\nregrets; and I have sometimes forgotten my principles. I resemble\nthe pilot, who gives lessons upon his art after more than one\nshipwreck.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER V.\n\nOUR DESIRES.\n\n\nWhence are our most common sufferings? From desires which surpass\nour ability to satisfy them. The ancients relate, that Oromazes\nappeared to Usbeck, the virtuous, and said, \u2018form a wish, and I\nwill grant it.\u2019 \u2018Source of light,\u2019 replied the sage, \u2018I only wish\nto limit my desires by those things, which nature has rendered\nindispensable.\u2019[6]\n\nLet us not suppose, however, that a negative happiness, a condition\nexempt from suffering, is the most fortunate condition to which\nwe may aspire. They who contend for this gloomy system, have but\npoorly studied the nature of man. If he errs in desiring positive\nenjoyments, if his highest aim ought to be, to live free from pain,\nthe caves of the forest conceal those happy beings whom we ought to\nchoose for our models.\n\nBounded by the present, animals sleep, eat, procreate, live without\ninquietude, and die without regret: and this is the perfection\nof negative happiness. Man, it is true, loses himself in vain\nprojects. His long remembrances, his keen foresight create him\nsuffering in the past and the future. His imagination brings forth\nerrors, his liberty, crimes. But the abuse of his faculties does\nnot disprove their excellence. Let him consecrate to directing them\naright, that time which he has hitherto lost in mourning over their\naberrations, and he will have reason to be grateful to the Creator,\nfor having given him the most exalted rank among sublunary beings.\nIf, on the other hand, he chooses to abandon that rank, of which he\nought to be proud, he will degrade his immortal nature at his own\ncost; and will only add to his other evils the shame of wishing to\nrender himself vile.\n\nLet us examine those animals, the instincts of which have the\nnearest relation to intelligence. Not one of them takes possession\nof the paternal heritage, increases it, and transmits it to\nposterity. Man alone does this, improves his condition and his\nkind, and in this is essentially distinct from all other beings\nbelow. From the Eternal to him, and from him to animals the chain\nis twice broken.\n\nFor man, the absence of suffering and a negative happiness are not\nsufficient. His noble faculties refuse the repose of indifference.\nCreated to aspire to whatever may be an element of enjoyment, let\nhim cherish his desires, and let them indicate to him the path\nof happiness; too fortunate, if they do not entice him towards\nobjects, which retire in proportion as he struggles to attain them,\nand towards those imaginary joys, of which the deceitful possession\nis more fertile in regrets than in pleasures.\n\nFar from being the austere censor of desires, I admit, that they\noften produce charming illusions. What loveliness have they not\nspread over our spring of life! Our imagination at that time, as\nbrilliant and as vivid as our age, embellished the whole universe,\nand every position in which our lot might one day place us. We were\noccupied with errors; but they were happy errors; and to desire was\nto enjoy.\n\nThose enchanting dreams, which hold such a delightful place in the\nlife of every man, whose imagination is gay and creative, spring\nfrom our desires. Ingenious fictions! Prolific visions! While\nye cradle us, we possess the object of our magic reveries. Real\npossession may be less fugitive. But may it not also vanish like a\ndream?\n\nDoubtless there are dangers blended with these seductive\nimaginings. In leaving the region of illusion, the greater part of\nmen look with regret upon the abodes of reality, in which they must\nhenceforward dwell. Let us not share their gloomy weakness. Let\nus learn to enjoy the moments of error, and perpetuate and renew\nthem by remembrance. Children, only, are allowed to weep, when the\nwaking moment dispels the toys, of which a dream had given them\npossession.\n\nWe give ourselves up to illusions without danger, if we have\nformed our reason; if we wisely think that the situation where\nour lot has placed us may have advantages which no other could\noffer. Imagination embellishes some hours without troubling any.\nPrompt to yield to the delightful visions, there are few of which\nI have not contemplated the charm. In seeing them vanish like a\nfleeting dream, I look round on my wife and children, and believe\nthat I am remembered by a few friends. I open my heart to the\npleasures of my retreat, which, though simple, are ever new. As the\ngilded creations of imagination disappear, I smile at my creative\noccupation, and console myself with the consciousness, that fancy\ncan paint nothing brighter or more satisfying, than these my\nrealities.[7]\n\nBut let me hasten to make an important distinction, to prevent\nthe semblance of contradiction. Let me discriminate those fleeting\ndesires, which amuse, or delude us for a moment, from those deep\ncravings, which, directing all our faculties towards a given end,\nnecessarily exercise a strong influence upon life. It is time to\ncontemplate the latter, and to suggest more grave reflections.\nWhile the scope of our faculties is limited to narrow bounds,\nour desires run out into infinity. From this fact result two\nreflections--the one afflicting, that the multitude are miserable,\nbecause it is easier to form, than to obtain our wishes; the other\nconsoling, that they might be happy, since every one can regulate\nhis desires.\n\nReduced to the necessity to realize, or restrain them, which course\ndoes wisdom indicate? Will ambition conduct us to repose?[8] He\nwho chases its phantoms, resembles the child who imagines that he\nshall be able to grasp the rainbow, which spans the mountain in\nthe distance. But from mountain to mountain, a new horizon spreads\nbefore his eyes. But the courage and perseverance requisite to\nregulate our desires, may intimidate us. We vex ourselves in the\npursuit of fortune, honor and glory. Philosophy is worth more than\nthe whole, and do we expect to purchase it without pain? True,\nshe declares to us, that to realize our desires is a part of the\nscience of happiness; but by no means the most important one. Yet\nit is the only one to which most men devote themselves. Philosophy\nshould teach us, what desires we ought to receive and cherish, as\ninmates. When they are fleeting and spring from a gay and creative\nimagination, let us yield ourselves without fear to their transient\ndreams. But when they may exercise a long and decisive influence,\nlet a mature examination teach us, whether wisdom allows the\nattempt to realize them. Oh! how much uncertainty and torment we\nmight spare our weakness, if from infancy we directed our pursuit\ntowards the essential objects of felicity, and if we stripped\nthose, which, in their issue, produce chimerical hopes and bitter\nregrets, of their deceitful charms! What gratitude should we not\nowe that provident instruction, whose cares should indicate, and\nsmooth our road to happiness! The great results, which might be\nobtained from education, would be, to moderate the desires, and to\nfind some indemnities for the sorrows of life. On the present plan,\nby arousing our emulation, by enkindling our instinctive ardor to\nincrease our fortune, and eclipse our rivals, we make it a study,\nif I may so say, to render ourselves discontented with our destiny;\nand, as if afraid that we should not be sufficiently perverted by\nthe contagion of example, we invoke ambition and cupidity to enter\nthe soul. We treat as chimerical those desires, which are so simple\nand pure, as to be pleasures of themselves, and which look to a\nhappiness easy of attainment.\n\nLet us, then, unlearn most of the ideas we have received. Let us\nclose our eyes on the illusions which surround us. Let us remould\nour plan of life, and retain in the heart only those desires which\nnature has placed there. Let reflection impart energy to our mind,\nand be our guide in the new path which reason opens before us.\n\nWe shall be told, that these desires animate us unsought and\ncontinually. I admit it. But in most men they are the simple result\nof instinct, and are vague, and without decisive effect. A craving\nfor happiness is diffused as widely as life. The enlightened desire\nof happiness is as rare as wisdom. The mass of our species do not\navail themselves of life, to enjoy it; but apparently for other\npurposes. My first and fundamental maxim is, that no one should\nlive by chance. Enfranchised from vulgar ideas, and guided by the\nprinciples of true wisdom, let happiness be our end; and let us\nview all our employments and pursuits, as means.\n\nI meet men of sanguine temperament, who say in the pride of\ninternal energy, \u2018my calculations must succeed. I am certain to\nacquire wealth.\u2019 Another of the same class assures me, that he\nsees no turn to his rapid career of advancement; and that he is\nconfident of reaching the summit of greatness. What more fortunate\nresult can he propose, than happiness? My pupil should make all\nhis plans subservient to the numbering of happy days even from the\ncommencement of his career.[9]\n\nLet us beware, however, of aspiring after a perfect felicity. The\nart I discuss, will not descend from heaven. Its object is, to\nindicate desirable situations, to guide us towards them, when they\noffer, and to remove the vexations of life. The greater part of\nmankind might exist in comfort. They fail of this, in aiming at\nimpracticable amelioration of their condition. It is an egregious\nfolly only to contemplate the dark side of our case. I deem it\na mark of wisdom and strength of mind, rather to exaggerate its\nadvantages.\n\nLet us carefully ascertain, what things are indispensable to our\nwell-being; and let us discipline all our desires towards the\nacquisition of them. If I consult those who are driven onward\nby the whirlwind of life, to learn what objects are absolutely\nnecessary to my end, what a long catalogue they will name! If I ask\nmoralists, how many sacrifices, incompatible with human nature,\nwill they impose! Agitated, and uncertain, I am conscious, that\nmy powers are equally insufficient to amass all which the former\nprescribe, or to tear me from all which the latter disdainfully\ninterdict.\n\nIn examining this all important subject, without the spirit\nof system, I realize, that the essentials of a happy life are\ntranquillity of mind, independence, health, competence, and\nthe affection of some of our equals. Let us strive to acquire\nthem. They are numerous, I admit, and difficult to unite in\nthe possession of an individual. Nevertheless, if a severe\ndiscrimination enabled us to bound our pursuit by the desire of\nobtaining only these objects, what a great and happy change would\nbe effected upon the earth; and how many disappointments would be\nhenceforward unknown![10]\n\n\n\n\nLETTER VI.\n\nTRANQUILLITY OF MIND.\n\n\nBy the word tranquillity I designate that state of the mind in\nwhich, estranged from the weaknesses of life, it tastes that happy\ncalm which it owes to its own power and elevation. Inaccessible to\nstorms, it still admits those emotions which give birth to pure\npleasures, and yields to the generous movements which the virtues\ninspire. Tranquillity seems indifference only in the eyes of the\nvulgar. A delightful consciousness of existence accompanies it. We\nmay meditate with a just pride upon the causes which produce it.\nWithout reasoning we respire and enjoy it. It is the appropriate\npleasure of the sage.\n\nA pure conscience is the profoundest source of this delightful\ncalm. Without it, we shall attempt in vain to veil our faults from\nourselves, or to listen only to the voice of adulation. An interior\nwitness must testify that we have sometimes sought occasions to\nbe useful; and that we have always welcomed those who offered us\nopportunities to do good.\n\nAnother condition equally necessary is to close the heart against\nunregulated ambition. I am well aware, in laying down this precept,\nthat I shall be deemed an idle dreamer. If you are convinced\nbeyond argument that there is nothing worth seeking in life but\ndistinctions and honors, you may close my book. If you are ready\nto receive these brilliant illusions when they come unsought, and\nreturn to the repose of your heart should you obtain them not, you\nmay pursue the reading of my lessons.\n\nDo not fear that I am about to announce trite truths touching the\nvices which ambition brings in its train, and the shameful actions\nand base measures by which it proposes to elevate its aspirant.\nWhy should I declaim in common-place against ambition when I have\ntruths to offer so pressing, simple and self-evident?\n\nTo consecrate to true enjoyment as many days as possible, to\nlose in disquieting desires as few moments as we may, these are\nthe elements of my philosophy. The world, on the other hand,\nincessantly repeats, \u2018Shine--ascend high places--bind fortune\nto your chariot wheels;\u2019 the multitude listen, and consume life\nin tormenting desires which end in disappointment. I say to my\ndisciple, make your pursuit, whatever it be, a source of present\nenjoyment, and be happy without delay. But the cry of objection\nreaches me, \u2018would you wish him to vegetate in obscurity and never\ntranscend the limits of the narrow circle in which he was born?\u2019 I\nwould have him enjoy the self-respect of conscious usefulness, and\ntaste all the innocent pleasures of the senses, the heart, mind and\nunderstanding. Farther than these, I see nothing but the miserable\ninquietudes of vanity. I admit that the pleasures of gratified\nambition are high flavored and intoxicating; but compelled to\nchoose among enjoyments which cannot all be tasted together, I\nbalance the delights which they spread over life with the pains\nwhich it must cost to obtain them. If I incline to ambition,\nI must fly privacy and my retreat; and renounce the pleasures\nwhich my family, friends and free pursuits daily renew. I must no\nlonger inhabit the paradise of my pleasant dreams. Abandoning the\nsimple and sincere enjoyments of obscurity, I abandon repose and\nindependence.\n\nSuppose I obtain those honors of which the distant brilliancy\ndazzles my vision, what destiny can I propose to myself? How long\ncan I enjoy my honors? Besieged by incessant alarm, through fear of\nlosing them, how often shall I sigh over the ill-judged exchange by\nwhich I bartered peace and privacy for them? Number all the truly\nhappy days of the ambitious--they are those in which, forming his\nprojects, and, in his imagination, removing the obstacles that\nlie in his way, he embellishes his career with the illusions of\nhis fancy. Too often the desired objects, which in the distance\nglittered in his eyes, resemble those paintings which, seen from\nafar, present enchanting scenery, but offer only revolting views\nwhen beheld close at hand.\n\nI wish to avoid the usual exaggeration upon these subjects.\nMoralists deceive us when painting the contrast between the\nvirtues and the vices; they assign unmingled felicity to the one,\nand absolute misery to the other. I am sensible that even in his\ndeepest inquietudes, and notwithstanding his desires and regrets,\nthe votary of ambition still has his moments of intoxicating\npleasure. It is not this alone, but happiness we seek. If we wish\nonly to toil up the heights of ambition to enjoy the dignities of\nthe summit, counsels are useless. If we ask for nothing more than\npleasures, they may be varied to infinity, and be found pervading\nall situations in forms appropriate to all characters. This\nhypocrite, that victim of envy, yonder miser, do they experience,\nthe moralist will ask, nothing but torment? Mark the misanthrope\nwho incessantly repeats that in a world peopled with perverse\nbeings and malign spirits, existence is an odious burden. This\nman, notwithstanding, finds his pleasures in a world which he\naffects so to detest. Every invective which he throws out against\nit, is a eulogy reflected back upon himself. He rises in his own\nestimation in proportion as he debases others, and finds in himself\nall the qualities which he makes them want. Does he meet with a\npartisan of his principles? how delightful for two misanthropes to\ncommunicate their discoveries, and to make a joint war of sarcasm\nupon the human race! Does he find an antagonist? he experiences a\ncharm in controverting him. Besides, as in vilifying human nature,\nno one can want either facts or arguments to present it in hues\nsufficiently dark, in the complacency of conscious triumph, he\nterminates his war of words.\n\nThe votary of ambition not only has pleasures which are often\ndazzling, but perhaps enjoyments not within the ordinary ken,\nwhich require profound observation. The ardent aspiration after\nsuccess gives a charm to efforts in the struggle which would\notherwise present only unmixed bitterness. Acts in themselves\nvile, ridiculous, or revolting, contemplated as means essential\nto a proposed end, lose their meanness and tendency to lessen\nself-respect. It is possible, in this view, that even extraordinary\nhumiliations may inspire the ambitious with a sort of pride, in\nthe consciousness that he has strength to stoop to them for his\npurposes. In fine, it is too true that pleasure may be found in the\nmost capricious aberrations, the most shameful vices, and the most\natrocious crimes.\n\nIt will be seen that I abandon most of the trite declamation\nagainst ambition. I touch not on its long inquietudes, its\ninevitable torments, exacerbated a hundred fold, if their victim\npreserve degrees of mental elevation and remains of moral\nsentiment. Life passes pleasantly among men who have just views,\nupright hearts and frank manners, the true elements of greatness\nand enjoyment. Surrounded by such minds, we respire, as it\nwere, a free and an empyrean atmosphere. Yield yourself to the\nempire of ambition; and in all countries, and in all time, you\ncondemn yourself to live surrounded by greedy, unquiet, false and\nvindictive intriguers, gnashing their teeth at all success in\nwhich they had no agency. All that encircle you unite insolence and\nbaseness.\n\nThose who envy authority and office are worthy of commiseration.\nMen in power are happy, they think. They have but to wish, and it\nis accomplished. The epitaph of the Swedish minister is sublime,\nand the index of a great truth. He had run the career of power and\nfortune with success. When near the period of his death, he ordered\nthis inscription for his tomb: _Tandem Felix._ _At last I am happy._\n\nWe never leave the society of the great as we entered it. We have\nbecome either better or more perverse. Inexperience is easily\ndazzled with the superficial splendor. For a man of disciplined\nmind and a character of energy, it is the most useful of schools.\nHere he tests and confirms his principles. Here he observes,\nsometimes with terror, sometimes with disgust, the melancholy\nresults of the seductive passions. He here sees those who seem to\nhave reached all their aims enjoying the repose of happy privacy.\nI anticipate the objection, \u2018that this is all absurdity; that not\none will be so convinced of his misery as to resign his power and\ndescend from his elevation to that obscurity for which he sighs.\u2019\nI believe it; and I see in this a deeper shade in his misery. He\nhas so long experienced the pernicious excitement of this splendid\ntorment, that he can no longer exist in repose.\n\nSuch is the lot of erring humanity, that the world naturally\nassociates glory and happiness with ambition, and sees not that\nthe association is formed by our own mental feebleness. To rise\nabove vulgar errors and the common train of thinking, to form sage\nprinciples, and, still more, to have the courage and decision to\nfollow them, this is the proof of real force of character. But,\nto feel the need of dazzling the vulgar, to be willing to creep in\norder to rise, to struggle and dispute for trinkets, this is the\ncommon standard by which the multitude estimate a great mind.\n\nPhilosophers are accused of having presented grandeur under an\nunfavorable aspect in order to console themselves for not having\nenjoyed it. History reads us another lesson. Aristotle instructed\nthe son of Philip. Plato was received at the courts of kings.\nCicero received the title of \u2018father of his country\u2019 by a decree\nof the senate. Boethius, thrice clad with the consular purple,\nwhen his locks were hoary, was dragged to a dungeon. He wrote \u2018the\nconsolations inspired by philosophy,\u2019 and laid down his book at\nthe foot of the scaffold. Marcus Aurelius honored the throne of\nthe world by those modest virtues which shone still brighter in\nobscurity. Fenelon was raised to the highest dignities only to\nexperience their bitterness, and, like his great predecessor, to\nowe his glory and his happy days only to wisdom and retirement.\nFranklin will be remembered in all time, not as the governor,\nlegislator and ambassador, but as having trained himself to\nhis admirable philosophy of common sense amidst the laborious\noccupations of a printer.\n\nThe certainty of acquiring the self-respect of conscious\nusefulness, a certainty which the great can seldom have, ought\nalone to determine a wise man to quit his obscurity. But if the\nemoluments and honors of a high station seduce us, let us value our\nindependence and let us not exchange treasures for tinsel.\n\nWe have freedom to avoid every culpable action, and to contemplate\nwith pity the chimeras of ambition. Let us see if in misfortune we\ncan preserve tranquillity of mind.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER VII.\n\nOF MISFORTUNE.\n\n\nIf we wish our precepts to be followed, we must avoid the extremes\nto which moralists and philosophers are too much inclined to\npress their doctrines, for they are impracticable in real life.\nIt is useless to deny that there are evils against which the aids\nof reason and friendship are powerless. Let us leave him who is\nabout to lose a being whose life is blended with his own, to\ngroan unreproved. Time alone can enfeeble his remembrances and\nassuage his pain. To render man inaccessible to suffering would\nbe to change his nature. Those austere moralists who treat our\nfeebleness with disdain, and who would render us indifferent to the\nmost terrible blows of destiny, would at the same time leave us\nno sensibility to taste pleasure. Nothing can be more absurd than\nthe vain harangues by which common-place consolation is offered\nto those who mourn a wife, a child, a friend. All reasonings are\nineffectual when opposed to these words, \u2018I have lost the loved\none. You inform me that my misfortune is without a remedy. Oh! if\nthere were a remedy, instead of unavailing tears, I would employ\nit. It is precisely because there is none, that I grieve.\u2019 \u2018Your\ntears are useless.\u2019 \u2018Still they serve to solace me.\u2019 \u2018God has done\nit.\u2019 \u2018True, and God has formed my heart to suffer from his blow.\u2019\n\u2018Your child is happy, and knew neither the errors nor the sorrows\nof life.\u2019 \u2018A parent\u2019s instinctive love inspired the desire that I\nmight teach it to avoid both and obtain happiness.\u2019 \u2018In the course\nof a long career your friend gave an example of all the virtues.\u2019\n\u2018It is because the loss of these virtues is irreparable to me that\nI must deplore his death.\u2019[11]\n\nThe greater portion of men, I admit, exaggerating their regrets,\npay a tribute of dissembled grief rather to opinion, than to\nnature; and cold declamation and frivolous distractions are\nsufficient to console them. But the orators of consolation\nsometimes press their lessons on hearts which are really bleeding.\nLet such groan at liberty, and attempt not to contradict nature.\nSolitude may exalt the imagination; but it also inspires consoling\nideas. In the silence of its refuge the desolate mourner brings\nhimself to a nearer communion with him he regrets. He invokes,\nsees, and addresses him. Grief is more ingenious than we imagine in\nfinding consolation, and has learned to employ different remedies\naccording as the wounds are slight or deep. Two persons have each\nlost a dear friend. The one studiously avoids the places where he\nused to meet his friend. The other repairs to his desolate haunts,\nand surrounding himself by monuments associated with his memory, he\nseeks, if I may so say, to restore him to life.\n\nThe death of a beloved wife is, perhaps, the most inconsolable of\nevils. Let this follow a series of other misfortunes, and it so\neffaces their remembrance that the sufferer feels he has not until\nthen known real grief. But if this affliction be one under which\nour strength is broken, let it be the only one to obtain this fatal\ntriumph. Under all other misfortunes we may find in ourselves\nresources for sustaining them; and may invariably either evade or\nassuage them, or mitigate their bitterness by resignation.\n\nMoralists have expatiated upon the manner in which a sage ought\nto contemplate the evils of life. Instead of subscribing to their\ntrite maxims, often more imposing than practicable, I sketch a\nsummary of my philosophy. I caution the feeble and erring beings\nthat surround me, not to dream of unmixed happiness. I invite them\nto partake promptly of all innocent pleasures. The evils too often\nappended to them may follow. Know nothing of those which have no\nexistence except in opinion. Struggle with courage to escape all\nthat may be evaded. But if it become inevitable to meet them, let\nresignation, closing your eyes on the past, secure the repose of\npatient endurance when happiness exists for you no longer.\n\nPermit me to give these ideas some development. If I may believe\nthe most prevalent modern philosophy, tranquillity of mind is the\nresult of organization, or temperament, and of circumstances. It is\nthe burden of my inculcation, that it may be of our own procuring;\nand that we owe it still more to the masculine exercise of our\nreason, discipline, and mental energy, than to our temperament or\ncondition.\n\nWe have reason to deplore that unhappy being, who, yielding to\ndreams of pleasure, forgets to forearm himself against a fatal\nawakening. The history of great political convulsions, and, more\nthan all, that of the French revolution furnishes impressive\nexamples of this spectacle. It offers more than one instance, in\nthe feebler sex, of persons, who seemed created only to respire\nhappiness. To the advantages of youth, talent and beauty, were\nunited the most exalted rank, and wealth, pleasure and power,\napparently to the extent of their wishes. To the dazzling\nfascination, with which a brilliant crowd surrounded their\ninexperience, many of them united the richer domestic enjoyments\nof the wife and mother. In the midst of their illusions, the\nrevolutionary shout struck their ear, like a thunderstroke.\nExecutioners bade them ascend the scaffold.[12]\n\nThese great catastrophes, I know, are rare. But there will never\ncease to be sorrows, which will receive their last bitterness\nonly in death. They are all too painful to be sustained, unless\nthey have been wisely foreseen. Let us think of misfortune, as of\ncertain characters, with whom our lot may one day compel us to\nconsort.\n\nIt is novelty alone, which gives our emotions extreme keenness.\nWhoever has strength of character, may learn to endure anything.\nThe red men of the American wilderness are most impressive examples\nof this truth. Time, however, is the most efficacious teacher of\nthe lesson of endurance. Poussin, in his painting of Eudomidas,\nhas delineated the human heart with fidelity. The young girl of\nthe piece abandons herself to despair. Half stretched upon the\nearth, her head falls supinely on the knees of the aged mother of\nthe dying. This mother is sitting. Her attitude announces mingled\nmeditation and grief. Amidst her tears, we trace firmness on her\nvisage. One of the two women is taking her first lesson of misery.\nThe other has already passed through a long apprenticeship of\ngrief.[13]\n\nReflection imparts anticipated experience. It takes from misery\nthat air of novelty, which renders it terrible. When a wise man\nexperiences a reverse, his new position has been foreseen. He\nhas measured the sorrows, and prepared the consolations. Into\nwhatever scene of trial he is brought, he will show in no one the\nembarrassment of a stranger.\n\nTaught to be conscious that we are feeble combatants, thrown upon\nan arena of strife, let us not calculate that destiny has no blows\nin store for us. Let us prepare for wounds, painful and slow to\nheal. Let us blunt the darts of misfortune in advance. Then, if\nthey strike they will not penetrate so deep. But in premeditating\nthe trials, which may be in reserve for our courage, let not\nanticipated solicitude disturb the present. Of all mental efforts,\nforesight is the most difficult to regulate. If we have it not, we\nfall into reverses unprepared. If we exercise it too far, we are\nperpetually miserable by anticipation.\n\nThe philosopher prepares himself for contingent perils by processes\nwhich impart a keener pleasure to present enjoyment. He better\nunderstands the value of the moments of joy, and learns to dispel\nthe fears, which might mar their tranquillity. That is a gloomy\nwisdom, which condemns the precepts that invite us to draw, from\nthe uncertainty of our lot, a motive to embellish the moment of\nactual happiness. Transient beings, around whom everything is\nchanging and in motion, adopt my maxims. Let us aid those who\nsurround us, to put them in practice. Let us render those who are\nhappy today more happy. Tomorrow the opportunity may have passed\nforever.\n\nAs though nature had not sowed sufficient sorrows in our path\nduring our short career, we have added to the mass by our own\ninvention. The offspring of our vanity and puerile prejudices,\nthese factitious pains seem sometimes more difficult to support,\nthan real evils. A warrior, who has shown fearless courage in the\ndeadly breach, has passed a sleepless night, because he was not\ninvited to a party, or a feast; or because a riband, or a diploma\nhas not been added to the many, with which he is already decorated.\nI had been informed, that the wife and son of a distinguished\nacquaintance were dangerously sick. I met him pale, and thoughtful.\nI was meditating, how to give him hope in regard to the objects\nof his supposed anxiety. While I was hesitating how to address\nhim, he made known the subject of his real inquietude. He was in\nexpectation of a high employment. The man of power, in whose hand\nwas the gift, had just received him coldly a second time. He was\nanxiously calculating his remaining chances, and striving to divine\nthe causes of his discouraging reception.\n\nTo avoid such ridiculous agonies, let us adopt a maxim, not the\nless true, because the phrase, in which I express it, may seem\ntrivial. Three quarters and half the remaining quarter of our\nvexations are not worth wasting a thought upon their cause. I add,\nthat even in expectations which appear important, we ought to fear\ntrusting too little to chance. The order of events, which we call\nby this name, is often more sage than any that human calculation\ncan arrange. If it decides in a manner which at first view seems\ngreatly against us, let us defer our accusations, until we have\nmore thoroughly tested the event. I have met a man, who had long\nbeen an aspirant for a certain place, with a radiant countenance,\nhaving just obtained it. Three months afterwards, he would have\npurchased at any price the power of recalling events. I have seen\nanother friend in desolation, because he could not obtain the hand\nof the daughter of a man, whose enterprises promised an immense\nfortune. He had been rejected. The speculations of her father\nall failed; and the reputation of his integrity and good faith\nwith them. The despairing lover would have shared the poverty and\ndisgrace of a helpless family; and would have been tormented,\nbesides, with an incompatible union, of itself sufficient to have\nrendered him miserable in the midst of all the expected prosperity.\nOne event is contemplated with a charmed eye; another with despair.\nThe issue alone can declare, which of the two we ought to have\ndesired.\n\nI grant, that we are surrounded by real dangers. I pretend not to\nbe above suffering; and I attach no merit to becoming the reckless\ndupe of men or chance. The highest philosophy is at the same time\nthe most simple and practicable. There is no error more common\nthan one, which is taken for profound wisdom. Most men look too\ndeep for the springs of events, and the motives of action. In many\nalternatives, we shall be most wise in giving the reins to chance.\nWhen we are menaced by an evident peril, let us summon all our\nenergy, and courageously struggle to ward it off. If, after all,\nneither wisdom can evade it, nor bravery vanquish it, let us see,\nhow true wisdom ordains us to sustain it.\n\nHow many are ignorant of the value of resignation, or confound\nit with weakness! The courage of resignation is, perhaps, the\nmost high and rare of all the forms of that virtue. Man received\nthe gift directly from the Author of his being. His desires,\ninquietudes, misguided opinions, the fruits of an ambitious and\nincongruous education, have weakened its force in the soul. Who\ncan read the anecdote of the American wilderness without thrilling\nemotion? An Indian, descending the Niagara river, was drawn into\nthe rapids above the sublime cataract. The nursling of the desert\nrowed with incredible vigor at first, in an intense struggle for\nlife. Seeing his efforts useless, he dropped his oars, sung his\ndeath song, and floated in calmness down the abyss. His example\nis worthy of imitation. While there is hope, let us nerve all our\nforce, to avail ourselves of all the chances it suggests. When\nhope ceases, and the peril must be braved, wisdom counsels calm\nresignation.[14]\n\nIn regard to unconquerable evils, the true doctrine is not vain\nresistance, but profound submission. It conceals the outline of\nwhat we have to suffer, as with a veil. It hastens to bring us the\nfruit of consoling time. It opens our eyes to a clearer view of\nthe possessions which remain to us. It precedes hope, as twilight\nushers in the day.\n\nIt is by laying down certain well ascertained principles of\nconduct, and re-examining them every day, that a new empire is\ngiven to reason, and that we learn to select the most eligible\npoint in all situations in life. The Greek philosophers were,\nincontestably, the men, who best understood the art of becoming\nhappy. Their studies led them to the unwearied contemplation of\nthe true good, the advantages of elevation of mind, the danger of\nthe passions, and a calm submission to inevitable ills. Such were\nthe habitual subjects of their meditations and discourses. They\nsuffered less from the evils of life, only because they cultivated\nhabits of profound reflection.\n\nAmong the moderns, in pursuit of happiness, some study only\nto multiply their physical enjoyments; and limited to gross\nsensations, differ little from brutes, except in discoursing about\nwhat they eat. Others, higher in the scale of thought, cultivate\nthe pleasures of literature and the fine arts. But disciplining\nbut a single class of their powers, with a view to distinguish\nthemselves from the vulgar, they are not always more happy. True\nphilosophy is chiefly conversant about that kind of acquisition,\nwhich pre\u00ebminently constitutes the rational man, forms his reason,\nand places him, as a master, in the midst of an unreflecting world\nsurrounded by children full of ignorance and fatuity.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER VIII.\n\nOF INDEPENDENCE.\n\n\nWe distinguish many kinds of liberty. That which we owe to equal\nlaws, without being indispensable to a philosopher, renders the\nattainment of happiness more easy to him. However men differ in\ntheir political opinions, they all have an instinctive desire to be\nfree. Every one is reluctant and afraid to submit himself to the\ncapricious power of those about him. The thirst of power is only\nanother form of this ardor for independence.\n\nWith what interest we read in history of those ignorant tribes,\nunknown to fame, whose liberty and simple manners at once astonish\nand delight us? When visiting the isles of Greece, where the charm\nof memory rendered the view of their actual slavery more revolting,\nwhat delight the traveller experiences in traversing the little\nisle of Casos which had never submitted to the Ottoman yoke! He\nthere found the usages of the ancient Greeks, their costume, their\nbeauty and their amiable and elevated natural manner. This isle\nis but a rock. But its dangerous shores have defended it against\ntyranny. Associations with the songs of Homer and Hesiod are\nrenewed. Such a picture delights even a people whose manners are\nrefined to a degree tending to depravation. Thus those opulent\ncitizens who find the country a place of exile still decorate their\nsplendid halls with landscapes and flowers.\n\nLet not a sensitive and wandering imagination kindle too readily at\nthe recitals of travellers. Were we to transport ourselves to one\nof those remote points of the earth where felicity is represented\nto have chosen her asylum, new usages, manners and pleasures, and\na foreign people every moment reminding us that we are strangers,\nwould, perhaps, give birth to the most painful regrets. When in our\nyouth we were charmed as we read of the prodigies of Athens and\nRome, we uttered the wish that we had been born in those renowned\nrepublics. There is little doubt that, had our wish been realized,\nwe should be glad to escape their storms, in exchange for obscurely\ntranquil days.\n\nIt is a distinguished folly which impels men far from their country\nin search of happiness. The greater portion, deceived in their\nhopes after having wandered amidst danger, die with regret and\nsorrow, worn out with vexation resulting from the broken ties and\nremembrances of home. Home is the last thought that comes over the\ndeparting mind. \u2018Et dulces moriens reminiscitur Argos.\u2019 _Ubi patria\nibi bene_ is an adage which contains as much wise observation as\nelevated patriotism. Our country is our common mother. We ought\nto love and sustain her more firmly in her misery than in her\nprosperity.\n\nWhatever manners, opinions and talents we carry into another\ncountry, we are still strangers there. The manners which we adopt\nare new and irksome. The eye sees nothing to awaken dear and\nembellished remembrances; and we find in the heart of no one the\nreverberating chord of ancient friendship and sympathy. We always\nregret the places where we knew the first pleasures and the first\npains, and saw the first enchanting visions of life; the cherished\nspots where we learned to love and be loved. If, returning there,\ndrawn back by an invincible sentiment, after a long absence we see\nit again, what sorrows await us! We find ourselves strangers in\nour own country. We ask for our parents and friends who departed\nin succession. The blows were struck at long intervals. We receive\nthem all in a moment. We return to shed tears only on the tombs of\nour fathers![15]\n\nRetreat and competence everywhere supply a wise man a degree of\nindependence. Even when the sport of oppression and injustice, he\nyields to these evils as the caprices of destiny. He would be free\nin the midst of Constantinople under the government of the Sultan.\n\nAnother kind of liberty is the portion of but a few in our own\ncountry--the liberty of disposing of our whole time at our choice.\nTo those who understand not the value of time, this liberty\nbequeaths a heavy bondage. But to those who have learned the\nsecret of happiness it is of inestimable value. The privilege of\nthe favored possessor of opulence is a high one. Neither the slave\nof business, fashion, opinion or routine, it is in his power at\nawaking to say \u2018this day is all my own.\u2019[15a]\n\nBut moralists exclaim, \u2018you must pay your debt: you must render\nyourselves useful to society.\u2019 Let me not be understood to\ninculcate the doctrine of indolence. Industry will have wings\nand power when you unite it to freedom. But how many repeat the\nhackneyed cry of \u2018the debt to society,\u2019 who, in the choice of their\nprofession, had never a thought but of its honors and emoluments!\nThis man whose industry in the pursuit of his choice proves that\nhis toil is his pleasure, that man who is in earnest to serve every\none whom he can oblige and who might have shone, had he chosen it,\nin the career of ambition, but who, modest, proud, studious and\nfree, lives happily in the bosom of retreat, has this man done\nnothing to acquit his debt? Is his example useless to society?\n\nIf my condition deny me leisure and independence in regard to\nthe disposal of my time, without bestowing much concern upon the\nchoice of my profession, I should choose that most favorable to\nfree thoughts, to breathing the open air, and, as much as might\nbe, in view of a beautiful nature. I should consider it as a\nmost important element in my happiness that I should be chiefly\nconversant with people of compatible characters. The profession of\nan advocate, perpetually conversant with the follies, vices and\ncrimes of society, is one of the most trying, both to integrity and\nphilosophy. That of the physician, continually witnessing groans,\ntears and physical suffering, however painful to sensibility,\nmay become the source of high reflected pleasure to a generous\nand humane heart. I would avoid a function the disquieting\nresponsibility of which would disturb my sleep. Above all, I should\ndread one of high honor and emolument, connected with proportionate\nuncertainty of tenure.\n\nThe balance of enjoyment being taken into view, I should prefer\nan occupation of privacy. It would be more easy at once to obtain\nand preserve. It would expose me less to envy and competition.\nExempt from the inquietudes inspired by severe labors, and the\nennui of important etiquette, I should at least find an absolute\nindependence, every evening, at the relinquishment of my daily\nroutine of occupation, and I should suffer no care for the morrow;\nI would learn to enhance the charms of my condition by thinking of\nthe agitation, regrets and alarms of those who are still swept by\nthe whirlwinds of life. In this way I would imitate him who, to\nprocure a more delicious repose, placed his couch under a tent near\nthe sea, to be lulled by the dashing of its waves and the noise\nof its storms. But it is time to contemplate the most useful kind\nof liberty, the only indispensable kind, and happily one which is\naccessible to all. It is the liberty resulting from self-command\nand inward mastery of ourselves. It has a value to cause all others\nto be forgotten--a value which no other kind can replace.\n\nWhat liberty can that man enjoy who is the slave of ambition? A\ngesture, a look of the eye, a smile affrightens him and causes him\npainful and trembling calculations what that sinister sign of his\nmaster may presage.\n\nLook at the opulent merchant whose hopes are the sport of the\nwinds, seas, robbers, changes of trade, municipal regulations, and\na crowd of agents who seem subordinate, but who really command him.\n\nWhatever kind of liberty we aim to possess, we may certainly\nconclude that the surest means to enjoy it is to have few wants.\nBut how restrain our wants? The greater portion are happily placed\nby their condition where they are ignorant of the objects which\nmost powerfully excite and seduce desire. The golden mean secludes\nthem from many temptations full of the bitterest regret, and exacts\nof them little effort of wisdom. In the class of men of leisure and\nelevated mind there are two means of rising above many wants.\n\nThe more austere philosophers have altogether disdained those\npleasures which they could never hope to obtain. Reducing\nthemselves to the limits of the strictest necessity, they indemnify\nthemselves for some privations by the certainty of being secured\nfrom many pains, and by the sentiment of conscious independence.\nThis is, doubtless, one of the surest means of obtaining\nindependence; and they who attempt to employ any other, differ from\nthe vulgar by their principles rather than their conduct.\n\nHow many objects, of which the contemplation awakens the desires,\nwould have nothing dangerous if we could always exercise a stern\nself-control over our minds! The surest means of exercising this\nself-control is to reduce the number of our wants. To do it, I\nadmit, demands a rare elevation of mind and the exercise of a high\ndegree of philosophy. But since its value is beyond its cost, let\nus dare to acquire it.\n\nWhile the fleeting dreams of pleasure hover around us, let reason\nstill say to us, \u2018an instant may dissipate them.\u2019 Let us, then, be\nready to find a new pleasure in the consciousness of our firmness\nand our masculine and vigorous independence. An enlightened mind\nreigns over pleasures; and while they glitter around, enjoys all\nthat are innocent; but disdains a sigh or a regret when they have\ntaken wings and disappeared.\n\nI commend the example of Alcibiades, the disciple of the graces and\nof wisdom, who astonished in turn the proud Persian by his dignity,\nand the Lacedemonian by his austerity. His enemies may charge him\nwith incessant change of principle. To me he seems always the\nsame, always superior to the men and circumstances that surround\nhim. Such strong mental stamina resemble those robust plants that\nsustain, without annoyance, the extremes of heat and cold.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER IX.\n\nOF HEALTH.\n\n\nHealth results from moderation, gayety and the absence of care.\nEternal wisdom has ordained, that the emotions which disturb our\ndays, are those which have a natural tendency to shorten them.[16]\n\nIf there were ground for a single charge against the justice of\nnature, it would be, that the errors of inexperience seem punished\nwith too great severity. We prodigally waste the material of life\nand enjoyment, as we do our other possessions, as if we thought it\ninexhaustible.\n\nTo the errors of youth succeed the vices of mature age. Ambition\nand cupidity, envy and hatred concur to devour the very aliment of\nlife. The storms which prostrate the moral faculties, equally sap\nthe physical energy. Every debasing passion is a consuming poison.\nTo what other source of evil can we assign those inquietudes and\npuerile anxieties, which disturb the days of the greater portion\nof mankind? They are occupied by trifling interests, and agitated\nby vain debates. They watch for futile excitements, and are in\ndesolation from chimerical troubles. Pleasant emotions sustain\nlife, and produce upon it the effect of a gentle current of air\nupon flame. Trains of thought habitually elevated, and sometimes\ninclined to revery, impart pure and true gayety to the soul. To\nbe able to command this train is one of the rarest felicities of\nendowment. A distinguished physician recorded in his tablets the\napparent paradox, that three quarters of men die of vexation or\ngrief.\n\nHuffland has published a work, upon the art of prolonging life,\nfull of interesting observations. \u2018Philosophers,\u2019 says he, \u2018enjoy a\ndelightful leisure. Their thoughts, generally estranged from vulgar\ninterests, have nothing in common with those afflicting ideas,\nwith which other men are continually agitated and corroded. Their\nreflections are agreeable by their variety, their vague liberty,\nand sometimes even by their frivolity. Devoted to the pursuits of\ntheir choice, the occupations of their taste, they dispose freely\nof their time. Oftentimes they surround themselves with young\npeople, that their natural vivacity may be communicated to them,\nand, in some sort, produce a renewal of their youth.\u2019 We may make a\ndistinction between the different kinds of philosophy, in relation\nto their influence upon the duration of life. Those which direct\nthe mind towards sublime contemplations, even were they in some\ndegree superstitious, such as those of Pythagoras and Plato, are\nthe most salutary. Next to them, I place those, the study of which,\nembracing nature, gives enlarged and elevated ideas upon infinity,\nthe stars, the wonders of the universe, the heroic virtues, and\nother similar subjects. Such were those of Democritus, Philolaus,\nXenophanes, the Stoics, and the ancient astronomers.\u2019\n\n\u2018I may cite next those less profound thinkers, who instead of\nexacting difficult researches, seemed destined only to amuse the\nmind; the followers of which philosophy, deviating wide from vulgar\nopinion, peaceably sustain the arguments for and against the\npropositions advanced. Such was the philosophy of Carneades and the\nAcademicians, to whom we may add the Grammarians and Rhetoricians.\u2019\n\n\u2018But those which turn only upon painful subtilties, which are\naffirmative, dogmatic and positive, which bend all facts and\nopinions to form and adjust them to certain preconceived principles\nand invariable measures; in fine, such as are thorny, arid,\nnarrow and contentious, these are fatal in tendency, and cannot\nbut abridge the life of those, who cultivate them. Of this class\nwas the philosophy of the Peripatetics, and that also of the\nScholastics.\u2019\n\nTumultuous passions and corroding cares are two sources of evil\ninfluences, which philosophy avoids. Another influence, adverse to\nlife, is that mental feebleness, which renders persons perpetually\nsolicitous about their health, effeminate and unhappy. Fixing their\nthoughts intensely on the functions of life, those functions,\nthat are subjects of this anxious inspection, labor. Imagining\nthemselves sick, they soon become so. The undoubting confidence\nthat we shall not be sick, is perhaps the best prophylactic for\npreserving health.\n\nI am ignorant of the exact influence of moral upon physical action,\nin relation to health. But of this I am confident, that it is\nprodigious; that physicians have not made it a sufficient element\nin their calculations, or employed it as they should; and that in\nfuture, under a wise and more philosophic direction, it may operate\nan immense result, both in restoring and preserving health.\n\nA man reads a letter, which announces misfortunes, or sinister\nevents. His head turns. His appetite ceases. He becomes faint, and\noppressed; and his life is in danger. No contagion, however, no\nphysical blow has touched him. A thought has palsied his forces\nin a moment; and has successively deranged every spring of life.\nWe have read of persons of feeble and uninformed mind, who have\nfallen sick, in consequence of the cruel sport of those, who have\ningeniously alarmed their imagination, and cautiously indicated\nto them a train of fatal symptoms. Since imagination can thus\ncertainly overturn our physical powers, why may it not, under\ncertain regulations, restore them? Among the numberless recorded\ncases of cures, reputed miraculous, it is probable, that a great\npart may be accounted for on this principle.[17]\n\nSuppose a paralytic disciple of the school of miracles, whose head\nis exalted with ideas of the mystic power of certain holy men, and\nwho is meditating on the succor which he expects from a divine\ninterposition manifested in his favor. In an ecstasy of faith, he\nsees a minister of heaven descend enveloped in light, who bids him\n\u2018arise, and walk.\u2019 In a moment the unknown nervous energy, excited\nby the mysterious power of faith, touches the countless inert and\nrelaxed movements. The man arises and walks. During the siege of\nLyons, when bombs fell on the hospital, the terrified paralytics\narose and fled.\n\nI am not disposed to question all the cures, which in France have\nbeen attributed to magnetism. We know, what a salutary effect the\nsight of his physician produces on the patient, who has confidence\nin him. His cheerful and encouraging conversations are among the\nmost efficient remedies. If we entertained a long cherished and\nintimate persuasion, that by certain signs, or touches, he could\ndispel our complaints, his gestures would have a high moral and\nphysical influence. Magnetism was in this sense, as Bailly justly\nremarked, a true experiment upon the power of the imagination.\nAt the moment of its greatest sway, while some regarded it an\ninfallible specific, and others deemed it entirely inefficient,\nanother class held it in just estimation. I cite an extract from\nthe report of the Academy of Science.\n\n\u2018We have sought,\u2019 say they, \u2018to recognise the presence of the\nmagnetic fluid. But it escaped our senses. It was said, that its\naction upon animated bodies was the sole proof of its existence.\nThe experiments, which we made upon ourselves, convinced us, that,\nas soon as we diverted our attention, it was powerless. Trials\nmade upon the sick taught us, that infancy, which is unsusceptible\nof prejudice experienced nothing from it; that mental alienation\nresisted the action of magnetism, even in an habitual condition of\nexcitability of the nerves, where the action ought to have been\nmost sensible. The effects which are attributed to this fluid, are\nnot visible, except when the imagination is forewarned, and capable\nof being struck. Imagination, then, seems to be the principle of\nthe action.\n\n\u2018It remained to be seen, whether we could reproduce these effects\nby the influence of imagination alone. We attempted it, and fully\nsucceeded. Without touching the subjects, who believed themselves\nmagnetised, and without employing any sign, they complained of pain\nand a great sensation of heat. On subjects, endowed with more\nexcitable nerves, we produced convulsions, and what they called\n_crises_. We have seen an exalted imagination become sufficiently\nenergetic to take away the power of speech in a moment. At the same\ntime, we proved the nullity of magnetism, put in opposition with\nthe imagination. Magnetism alone, employed for thirty minutes,\nproduced no effect. Imagination put in action produced upon the\nsame person, with the same means, in circumstances absolutely\nsimilar, a strong, and well defined convulsion.\n\n\u2018In fine, to complete the demonstration, and to finish the\npainting of the effect of the imagination, a power equally capable\nof agitating, and calming, we have caused those convulsions to\ncease by the same power, which produced them--the power of the\nimagination.\n\n\u2018What we have learned, or, at least what has been confirmed to\nus in a demonstrative and evident manner, by examination of the\nprocesses of magnetism is, that man can act upon man at every\nmoment and almost at will, by striking his imagination; that signs\nand gestures the most simple may have effects the most powerful;\nand that the influence which may be exerted upon the imagination,\nmay be reduced to an art, and conducted by method.\u2019\n\nThese truths had never before acquired so much evidence. We know,\nthat cures may be wrought by the single influence of imagination.\nAmbrose Par\u00e9 Boerhaave, and many other physicians, have cited\nstriking proofs of this fact. The first of these writers procured\nabundant sweats for a patient, in making him believe that a\nperfectly inert substance given him, was a violent sudorific.\n\nIt is worthy of the attention of moralists and physiologists,\nas well as physicians, to examine, to what point we may obtain\nsalutary effects, by exciting the imagination. But perhaps, there\nwould soon be cause to dread the perilous influence of this art,\nwhich can kill, as well as make alive. This excitable and vivid\nfaculty is never more easily put in operation, that when acted upon\nby the presentiments of charlatanism and superstition.\n\nWe possess another means of operation, which may be exercised\nwithout danger, and the power of which is, also, capable of\nproducing prodigies. Education rendering most men feeble and timid,\nthey are ignorant, how much an energetic will can accomplish. It\nis able to shield us from many maladies; and to hasten the cure of\nthose under which we labor.\n\nIn mortal epidemics, the physicians, who are alarmed at their\ndanger, are ordinarily the first victims. Fear plunges the system\ninto that state of debility, which predisposes it to fatal\nimpressions, while the moral force of confidence, communicating its\naid to physical energy, enables it to repel contagion.\n\nI could cite many distinguished names of men, who attributed their\ncure, in desperate maladies, to the courage which never forsook\nthem, and to the efforts which they made to keep alive the vital\nspark, when ready to become extinct. One of them pleasantly said,\n\u2018I should have died like the rest, had I wished it.\u2019[18]\n\nPecklin, Barthes and others think that extreme desire to see a\nbeloved person once more, has sometimes a power to retard death.\nIt is a delightful idea. I feel with what intense ardor one might\ndesire to live another day, another hour, to see a friend or a\nchild for the last time. The flame of love, replacing that of\nlife, blazes up for a moment before both are quenched in the final\ndarkness. The last prayer is accorded; and life terminates in\ntasting that pleasure for which it was prolonged. If this be true,\nthe principle on which the most touching incident of romance is\nfounded, is not a fiction.\n\nI have no need to say that an energetic will to recover from\nsickness has no point of analogy with that fearful solicitude which\nthe greater part of the sick experience. The latter, produced by\nmental feebleness, increases the inquietude and aggravates the\ndanger. Even indifference would be preferable. If education had\nimparted to us the advantages of an energetic will and real force\nof mind, if from infancy we had been convinced of the efficacy of\nthis moral power, we have no means to determine that it would not\nhave been, in union with the desire of life, an element in the\nmeans of healing our maladies.\n\nMedicine is still a science so conjectural that the most salutary\nmethod of cure, in my view, is that which strives not to contradict\nnature, but to second her efforts by moral means. I am ready to\nbelieve that amidst the real or imagined triumphs of science,\nthose of medicine will, in the centuries to come, hold a rank\nto which its past achievements will have borne no proportion.\nBut what an immense amount of experiment will be necessary! How\nmany unfortunate beings must contribute to the expense of these\nexperiments!\n\nContrary to the general opinion, I highly esteem physicians and\nthink but very little of medicine. In the profession of medicine\nwe find the greatest number of men of solid minds and various\nerudition; and the best friends of humanity. But they are in the\nhabit of vaunting the progress of their science. To me it seems\nincessantly changing its principles, without ever varying its\nresults. The systems of various great men have been successively\nreceived and rejected. Do we, however, imagine that the great\nphysicians who have preceded us were more unfortunate in their\npractice than those of our days? Among the most eminent physicians\nof our cities, one practises by administering strong cathartics.\nAnother is resolute for copious bleeding. A third bids us watch\nand wait the indications of nature. Each of these assumes that the\nsystem of the rest is fatal--and so, it would seem, it should be.\nAt the end of the year, however, I doubt if any one of them all has\nmore reproaches to make, as regards want of success, than any other.\n\nFrom these facts, there are those who hold that it is most prudent\nto confide to nature, as the physician; forgetful that, if he could\nbring no other remedy than hope, he unites moral to physical aid.\nYet, the very persons who, in health are readiest to maintain this\ndoctrine, like children who are heroes during the day but cowards\nin the dark, when they are sick, are as prompt as others in sending\nfor the physician.\n\nEven if agitation and fear had not fatal effects, in rendering us\nmore accessible to maladies, wisdom would strive to banish them, in\npursuit of the science of happiness. Fear, by anticipating agony,\ndoubles our sufferings. If there could exist a rational ground for\ncontinual inquietude, it would be found in a frail constitution.\nBut how many men of the feeblest health survive those of the most\nvigorous and robust frame! Calculations upon the duration of life\nare so uncertain that we can always make them in our favor.\n\nTo him who cultivates a mild and pleasant philosophy, old age\nitself should not be contemplated with alarm. It may seem a paradox\nto say that all men are nearly of the same age, in reference to\ntheir chances of another day. Men are as confident of seeing\ntomorrow and the succeeding day, at eighty, as at sixteen. Such is\nthe beautiful veil with which nature conceals from us the darkness\nof the future.\n\nIn general, men have less sympathy for the suffering than their\ncondition ought to inspire. We meet them with a sad face and are\nmore earnest to show them that we are afflicted ourselves, than\nto seek to cheer their dejection. We multiply so many questions\ntouching their health that it would seem as if we feared to allow\nthem to forget that they were sick.\n\nOf all subjects of conversation, my own pains and physical\ninfirmities have become the least interesting to me; as I know they\nmust be to others. I do not wish that those who surround my sick\nbed should converse as though arranging the preparations for my\nlast dress, or determining the hour of my interment.\n\nIf we would live in peace, and die in tranquillity, let us, as\nmuch as possible, avoid importunate cares. Our business is to\nunite as many friends as we may; and to beguile pain and sorrow by\ntreasuring as many resources of innocent amusement as our means\nwill admit. If our sufferings become painful and incurable, we must\nconcentrate our mental energy and settle on our solitary powers\nof endurance. We die, or we recover. Nature, though calm, moves\nirresistibly to her point; and complaint is always worse than\nuseless.[19]\n\nBut in arming ourselves with courage to support our own evils, let\nus preserve sensibility and sympathy for the sufferings of others.\nIt is among the dangerously sick that we find those unfortunate\nbeings who are most worthy to inspire our pity. Their only\nexpectation is death, preceded by cruel tortures; and yet they,\nprobably, suffer less for themselves than for weeping dependents\nwhom they are leaving, it may be, without a single prop. Ah! during\nthe few days of sorrow that remain to them on the earth, how\nearnestly ought we to strive to mitigate their pains, to calm their\nalarms and animate their feeble hopes! Blessed be that beneficent\nbeing who shall call one smile more upon their dying lips![20]\n\n\n\n\nLETTER X.\n\nOF COMPETENCE.\n\n\nPretended sages announce to us, with sententious gravity, that\nvirtue ought to be the single object of our desires; that,\nstrengthened by it, we can support privations and misery without\nsuffering. Useless moralists! Shall I yield faith to precepts which\nthe experience of every day falsifies? It is only necessary, in\nrefutation, to present a man who has broken his limb, or whose\nchildren suffer hunger.\n\nHis plan is wise, who examines, with a judgment free from ambition,\nthe amount of fortune necessary to competence in his case, viewed\nin all its bearings; and commences the steady pursuit of it. Having\nreached that measure, if his desires impel him beyond the limit\nwhich, in a more reasonable hour, he prescribed for himself, he\nhenceforward strives to be happy by sacrificing enjoyment. He\nbarters it for a very uncertain means of purchasing even pleasures.\nIn this way competence becomes useless to the greater part of those\nwho obtain it. Victims of the common folly, and still wishing a\nlittle more, they lose, in the effort to get rich, the time which\nthey ought to spend in enjoyment. We see grasping and adroit\nspeculators on every side; and, but rarely, men who know how to\nemploy the resources of a moderate fortune. It is not the art of\nacquiring beyond competence, but of wisely spending, that we need\nto learn.\n\nOur business in life is to be happy; and yet, simple and obvious as\nthis truism is, the greater number disdain or forget it. To judge\nfrom the passions and objects that we see exciting man to action,\nwe should suppose that he was placed on the earth, not to become\nhappy, but rich.\n\nTo what purpose so many cares and studies? \u2018That man,\u2019 we are\nanswered with a peculiar emphasis, \u2018has an immense income.\u2019 In his\nrare, brilliant and envied condition, if he does not vegetate under\nthe weight of ennui, I recognise in him a man of astonishing merit.\n\nThe opulent may be divided into two classes. The employment of\nthe one is to watch over their expenditures. The other study the\nmode of dissipating their revenue. Can I present, in detail, the\ncares and vexations which an immense fortune brings? The possessor\nleaves discussion with his tenants, to commence angry disputes\nwith his workmen. From these he departs to listen to the schemes\nof projectors, or to the information of advocates. Is not such a\nresult dearly purchased at the expense of repose, independence\nand time? Would it not be better to relinquish a part of these\npossessions, in order to dispose, in peace, of the remainder? I\nadmit that a man who devotes himself to lucrative pursuits is not\noverwhelmed with continual ennui. The banker respires again, after\nhaving grown pale over his accounts. A speculation has succeeded,\nand the enchantment of success banishes his alarms, fatigues and\nslavery. But he whose purpose in life is to secure as many happy\nmoments as he can, and who sees how many innocent pleasures the\nother allows to escape him, would refuse his fortune at the price\nwhich he pays for it.\n\nAnother opulent class inherit fortunes acquired by the industry\nand sacrifices of their fathers. Rendered effeminate in a school,\nthe reverse of that in which their fathers were trained, without\nresources in themselves, accustomed from infancy to have their\nleast desires anticipated, under the influence of feeble parents,\npliant and servile instructers, greedy servants and a seducing\nworld, their appetite is early palled, and every pleasure in life\nworn out.\n\nBut suppose the rich heir brought up as though he were not rich,\ndestiny places before him a strange alternative. If he succeed\nin resisting desires which everything excites and favors, what\npainful struggles! If he yield to them, what effort can preserve\nhim an untainted mind? The experience of all time declares the\nimprobability that he will resist. So many pretended friends are\nat hand to take up the cause of the present against the future,\na cause, too, which always finds a powerful patron in our own\nbosoms! The pleasures of the senses have, besides, this dangerous\nadvantage, that before we have tasted them we are sufficiently\ninstructed by the imagination, that we shall receive vivid and\ndelightful emotions from their indulgence. We are not certain that\npleasures of a higher class have a charm of enchantment until after\nwe have made the happy experiment. Thus everything prepares the\nopulent for the sadness of satiety, moral disgust and ennui without\nend, the only suffering of life which is not softened by hope.\n\nYou will sometimes see these men at public places where they are\nprofessedly in search of amusement, giving no sign of existence\nexcept by an occasional yawn. Cast your eyes on those spectators\nwho are alive to the most vivid enthusiasm. They are young students\nor mechanics who have economised ten days to spend an hour of the\neleventh in this amusement![21] It is in clean cottages, in small\nbut well directed establishments, that pleasures are vivid, because\nthey are obtained at a price, and through industry and order. A\nfestival is projected, or a holiday returns. Friends are assembled,\nand how blithe and free is the joy! A slight economy has been\npractised to supply the moderate expenses. There is high pleasure\nin looking forward to the epoch and in making the arrangements in\nanticipation. There is still more pleasure in the remembrance. When\nthe interval which separates us from pleasure is not very long,\neven this interval has charms.\n\nWhat a touching narrative is recorded of the suppers of two of\nthe greatest men of the past age, of whom one was the Abbe de\nCondillac. Both were so poor that the expenses were reduced to\nabsolute necessaries. But what conversations prolonged the repast,\nand with what swiftness flew the enchanted hours! Neither great\ngenius nor profound acquirements are necessary to enjoy evenings\nequally pleasant.\n\nIn an establishment of moderate competence, those who compose it\nrarely leave it. All the joys which spring up in the bosom of\na beloved family seem to have been created for them. Give them\nriches, without changing their hearts, and they would taste less\npleasure. New duties and amusements would trench upon a part of\nthat time which had hitherto been sacred to friendship. More\nconversant with society, they would be less together. Receiving\nmore visitants, they would see fewer friends. Transported into a\nnew sphere where a thousand objects of comparison would excite\ntheir desires, they would, perhaps, for the first time, experience\nprivations and regrets.\n\nWomen and young people taste the advantages which a retired,\npleasant and modest condition offers only so long as they avoid\ncomparisons of that lot with one which the world considers more\nfavored. _We must carry into the world a high philosophy, or never\nquit our retreat._\n\nPersons even of a disciplined reason, just thought and a noble\ncharacter, may grow dizzy, for a moment, with the splendor and\nnoise of opulence, perceived for the first time. But as soon\nas they begin to blush and forfeit self-respect in tracing the\ncauses of their intoxication, the scene vanishes, and, as they\ncontemplate and compare, it is replaced by the sentiment of their\nown happiness. In the midst of the brilliant crowd they experience\na legitimate pride in saying, \u2018from how many regrets and cares am I\nsaved! How many futilities are here, of which I have no need!\u2019\n\nBut I shall be told that opulence has at least this advantage,\nthat it attracts consideration. There is no doubt that many people\nmeasure the esteem they pay you by the scale of your riches. You\nwill never persuade them that merit often walks on foot, while\nstupidity rides in a carriage.\n\nBut will a man esteem himself a philosopher, and take into his\ncalculation the opinion of such fools as these? In a circle where\nopulence puts forth its splendor, when you experience a slight\nrevulsion of shame in perceiving that the simplicity of your dress\nis remarked, ask yourself if you would change your mode of life,\ncharacter and talents with those around you? If you feel that you\nwould not, repress the weakness of wishing incompatible advantages;\nand resume the self-respect of an honest man.[21a]\n\nTo be satisfied with a moderate fortune is, perhaps, the highest\ntest and best proof of philosophy. All others seem to me doubtful.\nHe who can live content on a little, gives a pledge that he would\npreserve his probity and courage in the most difficult situations.\nHe has placed his virtue, repose and happiness as far as possible\nabove the caprices of his kind, and the vicissitudes of earthly\nthings.\n\nThere are moments when the desire of wealth penetrates even the\nretreat of a sage, not with the puerile and dangerous wish to\ndazzle with show, but with the hope, dear to a good mind, that\nit might become a means of extended usefulness. When imagination\ncreates her gay visions, we sometimes think of riches, and in our\ndreams make an employment of them worthy of envy. What a delightful\nfield then opens before those who possess riches? They can\nencourage the progress of science, and aid in advancing the glory\nof letters. How much assistance they can offer to deserving young\npeople whose first efforts announce happy dispositions, and whose\ncharacter, at the same time, little fitted for worldly success,\nis a compound of independence and timidity? How much they may\nhonor themselves in decking the modest retreat of the aged scholar\nwho has consecrated his life to study, and who has neglected his\npersonal fortune to enrich the age with inventions of genius! They\nhave the means of giving a noble impulse to the arts, without\ntrenching upon their resources. A picture, which perpetuates the\nremembrance of a generous or heroic exploit, costs no more than\na group of bacchanalians or debauchees. A career more beautiful\nstill, is open to opulence. Of how many vices and how many tears it\nmay dry the source! A rich man, to become happy, has only to wish\nto become so. He can not only immortalize his name as the patron of\narts and useful inventions, but, what is better, can deserve the\nblessings of the miserable. Such pleasures are durable, and may be\ntasted, with unsated relish, after a settled lassitude from the\nindulgence of all others.[22]\n\nLet not such seducing dreams, however, leave us a prey to ambitious\nand disappointing desires at our awakening. It is in the sphere\nwhere Providence has placed us, that we must search for the means\nof being useful; and if there are pleasures which belong only to\nopulence, there are others which can best be found in mediocrity.\nPerhaps, in giving us riches, we shall realize but half the dream\nof virtue and contentment. \u2018It seems to me,\u2019 says Plato, \u2018that gold\nand virtue were placed in the opposite scales of a balance; and\nthat we cannot throw an additional weight into one scale, without\nsubtracting an equal amount from the other.\u2019\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XI.\n\nOF OPINION AND THE AFFECTION OF MEN.\n\n\nIn selecting the same route, in which the agitated crowd\nis pressing onward, we are evidently on the wrong road to\nhappiness; since we hear the multitude on every side expressing\ndissatisfaction with their life. If we choose a different path,\nwe cannot expect to evade the shafts of censure, since the same\nmultitude are naturally disposed, from pride of opinion, to think\nall, not on the same road with themselves, astray. It is, then, an\negregious folly to hope for a happiness thus pursued by system,\nand for the approbation of the vulgar at the same time. Among the\nobstacles which are at war with our repose, one of the greatest,\nand at the same time most frivolous, is the fatal necessity of\nbecoming of importance to others, instead of becoming calmly\nsufficient to ourselves. Like restless children, always seduced\nby appearances, it is a small point, that we are happy in our\ncondition. We desire that it should excite envy. A happiness\nwhich glares not in the eyes of the multitude, compelling them to\ntake note of it, is no longer regarded as happiness. There are\nboth dupes and victims of opinion. Those who are devoured by the\nfever of intrigue, and those who, to dazzle others, dissipate\ntheir fortune, are the miserable victims. The dupes are those who\nvoluntarily weary themselves out of three quarters of their life,\nand offer this as their apology--\u2018these visits, these ceremonies,\nthese evening parties! they are tiresome, we grant. But we must\nmix with good company.\u2019 Why not always mix with the best--your own\nenlightened and free thoughts?\n\nI shall be obliged to present one truth under a thousand forms. It\nis that much courage is exacted for the attainment of happiness.\nSuch a man has estimable qualities, an interesting family, tried\nfriends, a fortune equal to his wants. His lot ought to seem a\ndelightful one. How differently the public judge! \u2018This man,\u2019\nsays the public, \u2018has intelligence. Why has he not increased\nhis fortune? He is able to distinguish himself. Why has he not\nsought place or office? He seems to stand aloof, that he may pique\nhimself on a proud and foolish originality. We judge him less\nfavorably. Every one distinguishes himself, that can. To be without\ndistinction is a proof that he has not power to acquire it.\u2019 If the\nman, of whom this is said, has not courage, mourn over him. The\npublic will end, by rendering him ashamed of his happiness.\n\nTo hear the false reasoning of the multitude is not what astonishes\nme. That stupid people, full of self-esteem, should hold these\nfoolish discourses, with strong emphasis, is perfectly natural.\nWhat I wonder at is, that their maxims should guide people of\nunderstanding.\n\nWe are guilty of the whimsical contradiction of judging our own\nideas with complacency, and of pronouncing upon those of others\nwith severity. Yet we every day sacrifice principles which we\nesteem, through fear of being blamed by people whom we despise.[23]\n\nThe moment I escape the yoke of opinion, what a vast and serene\nhorizon stretches out before my eyes! The pleasures of vanity\nscatter, like morning mists. Those of repose and independence\nremain. I no longer sacrifice to the disquieting desire of\npreserving a protector, or eclipsing my rivals. I am no longer the\nslave of gloomy etiquette. I henceforward prolong my delightful\nevenings for my own enjoyment. The caprices of men have lost\ntheir empire over me. If poor, I shall remain a stranger to the\npains excited by blasting ridicule and overwhelming contempt. If\nrich, indolent and impertinent people will no longer regulate\nmy expenses; and the happy choice of my pleasures will multiply\nmy riches. These are presented to a wise man in two opposite\nrelations. Do they call for a service? The most tender interest\nexcites him to their aid. Do they show a disposition to manage him?\nHe meets the attempt only with profound disdain. He who possesses a\ndisciplined reason, and a courageous mind, does not choose to walk\nby the faith of a feeble and uncertain guide, who has need himself\nto be led. Allow yourself to become docile to the eccentric laws\nof opinion, and the slave of its imperious caprices, and follow\nit with the most earnest perseverance of loyalty; still it will\nfinally terminate in condemning you.\n\nBut hypocrisy opens against me, and feeble men ask me, if it be\nnot dangerous, thus to inculcate contempt of opinion? In following\nbut a part of the ideas, which I announce, my readers might be led\nastray. The whole must be adopted, for a fair experiment of the\nresult. A physician had chosen many plants, from which to form a\nsalutary decoction. His patient swallowed the juice of but one and\nwas poisoned.\n\nLet us discard that timidity, which conducts to falsehood; and, to\nsubserve morals, let us be faithful to truth. The wicked and the\nsage alike break the yoke of opinion; the former to increase his\npower of annoyance; the latter that of doing good.\n\nI can conceive, that a depraved man will commit fewer faults, in\nyielding to the caprices of opinion, than in abandoning himself to\nhis own errors. There are cruel passions and shameful vices, which\nhe reproves even in the midst of his aberrations. But in doing so\nhe gives to falsehood the name of politeness, and to cowardice the\ntitle of prudence. His favorite inculcation is, _the terror of\nridicule_. To form true men, it is indispensable, that this precept\nshould be engraven on their hearts--_Fear nothing but remorse_.\n\nThe simple and generous mind, that follows these lessons, and is\nworthy of happiness, need not blush, in view of his course. Only\nlet him march on with unshrinking courage. In breaking the yoke\nof opinion, let him fly the still more shameful chains which the\npassions impose. In contemning the prejudices of the multitude\ndread still more those fatal instructers, who treat morality as a\npopular fable, and pretend to the honor of dispelling our errors.\nThe aberrations of opinion prove only, that the most bold, not the\nmost virtuous, press forward to announce their principles. These\nprinciples cannot annihilate that secret and universal opinion,\nthat voice of conscience, without which the moral world would have\npresented only a chaos; and the human race would have perished.\nConsult those men, who have been instructed by the lessons of\nwisdom and experience. Consult those whom you would choose to\nresemble. Their first precept will be, that you descend into\nyourself. If we interrogate conscience, in good faith, she will\nenlighten us. She makes herself heard in the tumult of our vices,\neven against our will. If she become distorted, during the storm of\nour passions, she recovers the serenity of truth, as soon as that\npasses away; as a river, which has been agitated by a tempest, as\nsoon as calm returns, reflects anew the verdure of the shores and\nthe azure of heaven.\n\nIf there were a people formed by sage laws, whose words were\nfrank, and whose actions upright, there it would be a duty to\nhearken to the voice of opinion in religious silence; and to follow\nits decrees, as though they were those of the divinity. Phocion\nasked, what foolish thing he had done when the Athenians applauded\nhim? Happy the country, where this would have been a criminal\npleasantry, and where the pages of that chapter which condemns\nopinion ought to be torn out.\n\nPerhaps I may be accused of contradiction, in saying that, in the\nenlightened pursuit of happiness, the opinion of the multitude\nmust be received with neglect; and yet, that it is pleasant to be\nesteemed by the society, of which we are members. We receive their\nservices, and ought to know the pleasure of obliging them. We often\nshare those weaknesses, which we censure in them. Our multiplied\nrelations with them render their affection desirable. It may not\nbe necessary to happiness; but it gives to enjoyment a more vivid\ncharm.\n\nMay we be able, in pursuing the path indicated by wisdom, to obtain\nesteem, and taste the delight of a sentiment still pleasanter, and\nmore precious. Friendship is, to esteem, what the flower is to the\nstem which sustains it.\n\nBut I can never imagine, that we ought to become subservient to the\ncaprices of opinion. We should first be satisfied with ourselves;\nand afterwards, if it may be, with others. To merit affection, I\nperceive but two methods; to love our kind, and to cultivate those\nvirtues which diffuse a charm over life.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XII.\n\nOF THE SENTIMENT MEN OUGHT TO INSPIRE.\n\n\nThere is no such being as a misanthrope. The men designated by\nthis name, may be divided into many classes. In one class I see\nmen of philosophic minds, revolted by our vices, or shocked by\nour contradictions, who censure these universal traits with a\nblunt frankness. Their disgust springs from the evils, which the\nuniversal follies of the age have shed upon our career. But if they\nreally hated men, would they wield the pen of satire, in striving\nto correct them?\n\nAnother class consists of those unfortunate beings, who hope to\nfind peace only in solitude. They fly a world which has pierced\ntheir heart with cruel wounds; and perhaps avow, in words, an\nimplacable hatred towards men. But their sensibility belies their\navowal; and we soothe their griefs, as soon as we ask their\nservices.\n\nFinally, there are those who strive only to render themselves\nsingular, who are really less afflicted, than whimsical; rather\nofficious than observing. These would tire us with the avowal\nof their love of mankind, if they did not deem that they render\nthemselves more piquant and original by declaring that they hate\nthem.\n\nWe may excuse indignation towards prejudices, contradictions and\nvices. But how can man have merited hatred or contempt? Man is\ngood. Such is his primitive character, which he can never entirely\nefface. Good, but seduced, erring and unhappy, he has claims upon\nour most tender interest.\n\nI do not propose to vex the question whether man is born good? I\nconsider him to be born without either virtue or vice. But as he\nadvances in life, nature arranges everything around him in such a\nmanner, as ought to render him good. A mother is the first object\nthat offers to his view. The first words which he hears express the\ntenderest affection. Caresses inspire his first sentiments; and his\nfirst occupations are sports.\n\nToo soon, it is true, very different objects surround him. As he\ngrows into life, he is struck with such a general spectacle of\ninjustice, as reverses his ideas, and sours his character. But,\nalthough the contagion reaches him, and the passions and prejudices\ndegrade him, some traits of his primitive goodness will always\nremain in his heart.\n\nEven those terrible enthusiasts, who thrust themselves forward\nin the effervescence of party, who, to give triumph to their\ncause, blow up the incipient flame of civil discord, and with an\nunshrinking hand raise the sword of proscription, these fanatics\nmay be strangers to every humane sentiment. Yet many of them are\nseen to love their wives and children with tenderness, and to\npreserve in the bosom of their family, so to speak, the germs of\ninnocence. Robbers, the horror of society, whom the gibbet claims,\nhonor themselves with some acts of humanity; and tyrants have their\ndays of clemency.\n\nDuring great calamities, natural sentiments develope themselves,\nand form a touching contrast with the scenes of horror with which\nthey are surrounded. When a destructive conflagration is sweeping\nalong a city, there are no distinctions, no animosities among the\nwretched sufferers, whom the same terror pursues. Enemies forget\ntheir hatred, and partisans their parties. The rich and poor cry\nout together. All love and aid each other. Misfortune has broken\ndown the separating barriers of pride and prejudice, and they find\neach other good and equal.\n\nEven upon the theatre of war, where the spectacle of destruction\nexcites an appetite to destroy, we often discover affecting traces\nof humanity. At the siege of Mentz, in 1795, I remember that the\nadvanced guards of the attack on the left, occupied an English\ngarden, near the village of Montback. The garden was completely\ndestroyed. The walks and labyrinths were changed, by the trampling\nof the soldiers, into high roads. Batteries were raised upon the\nmounds, from distance to distance, around which still grew rare\ntrees and shrubs. The French bivouacs banished the verdure of the\nbowling greens; and in advance of them, a half overturned kiosk\nserved for the front guard of the Austrians. The nearest water\nwas on their side; the nearest wood on the side of the French. To\nobtain water, the French threw their canteens to the Austrians,\nwho filled them and sent them back again. When night drew on, the\nFrench soldiers, in return, cut wood for the Austrians, and dragged\nfagots between the videttes of the two armies. Thus, waiting the\nsignal to cut each other\u2019s throat, the advance guards lived in\npeace, and made exchanges like those between friendly people. This\nspectacle excited in me a profound emotion; and I was scarcely able\nto refrain from tears, in seeing men, so situated, still good, on a\nsoil red with blood.[24]\n\nThis primitive goodness is not the only beautiful trait which is\ncontinually developing to our view in human nature. For men to\nbe generous, and magnanimous, the soul never entirely loses the\nelevation, which it received from its author.\n\nUnder oppression, in degradation, in slavery, men still preserve\nsome impress of their first dignity. Those outrages which inflict\npersonal humiliation, are among the most frequent causes of\nrevolutions; and, perhaps tyrants incur less danger in shedding the\nblood of citizens, than in insulting them. An outrage upon a woman\nwas the signal of the liberty of Rome. A similar crime drew on the\nfall of the Pisistrati, who had found no obstacle in overturning\nthe laws of their country. The Swiss and Danes supported the rigors\nof a tyrannic yoke in silence. They arose the first day in which\ntheir oppressors exacted of them an act of degradation. Genoa had\nbeen conquered. An Austrian officer struck a man of the lower\nclass. The indignant Genoese flew to arms, and drove away their\nconquerors.\n\nUnder the most absolute despotism, we sometimes see the subjects\npreserving magnanimous sentiments; and not being able to give them\na useful direction, put forth, to serve their master, a courage\nequal to that with which free citizens honor themselves in serving\ntheir country. Of this I might cite striking proofs from the\nhistory of even barbarous nations.\n\nA convincing demonstration, that an innate principle of elevation\nexists in the soul, results from the universality of religious\nideas. Man is discouraged by his errors, his infirmities and faults\nin vain. An interior voice admonishes him of his high destination.\nTransient as he is, and comparatively lost in the immensity of\nthe universe, he invokes the Divinity to sanctify the union of\nhis espousals, and to preside over the birth of his infants. He\nraises his voice to him over the tombs of his fathers. When the\ncontemplation of the works of the Eternal has inspired him with\nhumble sentiments of himself, he still deems himself superior to\nall the beings that surround him. Occupying but a point on the\nglobe, his disquieting thoughts embrace the universe. He beholds\ntime devouring the objects of his affections, crumbling monuments\nand overturning even the works of nature. From the midst of the\nruins he aspires to immortality.[24a]\n\nWhat would not these sentiments, at once elevated and good, these\nprecious germs produce, were they developed by happy circumstances!\nThat they exist in the human bosom is a sufficient indication that\nwe owe a tender interest to the being who possesses them. Let us\nlove our kind, and cultivate the virtues which render us worthy of\ntheir affection.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XIII.\n\nOF SOME OF THE VIRTUES.\n\n\nPlaced in the midst of men, the most useful virtue is indulgence.\nTo allow ourselves to become severe, is to forget how many good\nqualities we want ourselves; and from what faults we are preserved\nonly by chance and our circumstances. It is to forget the weakness\nof men, and the empire exercised over them by the objects that\nsurround them. To render exact justice to our kind, we ought to\ntake into the estimate all the assistance and all the obstacles,\nwith which they have met in their career. Thus weighing them,\ncelebrated actions will become less astonishing, and faults begin\nto appear excusable.\n\nBy cultivating the spirit of indulgence, we learn the happy secret\nof being well with ourselves, and well with men. Some carry into\ntheir intercourse with the world an austere frankness. They are\ndreaded, and the opposition which they every day experience,\nincreases their disagreeable and tiresome roughness, and their\nofficious rudeness. Others, blushing at no complaisance, and\nequally supple and false, smile at what displeases them; praise\nwhat they feel to be ridiculous; and applaud what they know to be\nvile. Be indulgent, and you will not sacrifice self-esteem; and\nyour frankness, far from annoying, will render your affability more\namiable.\n\nThe less we occupy ourselves with the vices and aberrations of men,\nthe more pleasant does existence become. Indulgence carries its own\nrecompense with it, and causes us to see our kind almost such as\nthey should be.\n\nLet us extend a courageous indulgence towards those unfortunate\nbeings, who are victims of long continued errors. Enough will\nbe ready to assume the office of their accusers. Let us draw\nround them the veil of charity. I am aware that gloomy moralists\nwill object to these views; and call them easy principles, that\nencourage the vices, flatter the passions, and excuse disorders.\nBelieve me, the most easy and successful mode of reclaiming the\nwandering, is to carry encouragement and hope to their hearts, and\nto have faith in their repentance.[25]\n\nBorn in an age when every one professes to applaud toleration, far\nfrom adopting the real spirit, we scarcely know how to practise\nindulgence even towards abstract opinions, that differ from our\nown. Let us never forget the weakness and error of our own judgment\nand understanding; and then we shall possess an habitual temper of\ncandor towards the views of others. In most instances, when we say\n\u2018that man thinks rightly,\u2019 the phrase, when translated, imports,\n\u2018that man thinks as I do.\u2019\n\nLet us never forget that chance may have given us the opinions\nmost dear to us. The ardent patron of this party, had he only been\nin a house contiguous to his own, would have had opinions and\nprejudices, the exact reverse of those he now reveres. It is not\nimprobable that he might have died in the opposite ranks.\n\nA particular idea, which you formerly deemed correct, at present\nseems false. Perhaps you may one day return to your first judgment.\nLet us accord, to our antagonist, a right which we frequently\nexercise for ourselves, the right to be deceived. During the\ncontests of party, I have more than once seen the spectacle of two\nmen changing their principles almost at the same moment, in such\na manner, that one of them takes the place of the other in the\nfaction, which, but a short time since, he professed to detest.\nTaking human nature as it is, into view, this does not astonish me.\nWhat I find strange is, that these two men should hate each other\nmore than ever, and that it has become impossible to reconcile\nthem, now that the one has espoused the opinion which the other\nheld but a moment before.[26]\n\nAn essential truth that ought to be constantly announced, is, that\nboth political and religious opinions have much less influence than\nis commonly imagined upon the qualities of the heart. No verity\nhas been so completely demonstrated to my conviction. I have been\nconversant with men of all parties. In every one I have met with\npersons full of disinterestedness and integrity. To esteem them, it\nwas only necessary to remark the noble and unshrinking courage with\nwhich they were willing to suspend everything on the issue of their\nconvictions.[27]\n\nA crowd of useful reflections upon this subject naturally offer,\nupon which it would be easy to enlarge.--The brevity of my plan\nimpels me to other subjects. There is one quality, difficult to\ndefine, yet easily understood, which always affects us pleasantly.\nIt is a quality as rare as its effects are useful; and yet we\nhave scarcely a specific term in our language by which fully to\ndesignate it. An obliging disposition is the common phrase that\nconveys it. Examine all the pleasant things of life, and you will\nfind this disposition the pleasantest of all. There often remains\nno memory of the benefits received. Of those we have rendered,\nsomething is always retained.\n\nBut what shall we say of the ungrateful? We are told that they\nare formidable from their numbers and boldness, and that they\npeople the whole earth. How eccentric and contradictory are the\ncommon maxims of the world! We admit that we have a right to exact\ngratitude; and yet wish that benefits should be forgotten: I hold\nit wrong to depend upon gratitude, since the expectation will\ngenerally be deceived.--On the contrary, I approve his course, who\nkeeps an exact account of his good actions. In reading the record,\nhe will one day taste a legitimate reward. What reading can be so\nuseful? To remember that we have done good in time past, is to bind\nus to beneficence in time to come. We hear it continually repeated,\nthat it requires a sublime effort to do good to our enemies.--Men\nmore zealous than enlightened have advanced, that the morality of\nthe gospel has alone prescribed the rendering of good for evil.\nEvangelical duty is sufficiently elevated by being founded on the\nbasis of higher sanctions and a future retribution; and rests not\nits claims upon new discoveries of what is true, beautiful and\nobligatory in morals. They who advocate that the grand maxims of\nevangelical morality are found nowhere else than in the gospel,\nseem to me to have committed two faults; the one in advancing an\nerror, the other in tending to estrange men from the virtues they\ninculcate, by intimating that their practice exacts more than human\npower.\n\nA writer of unquestionable piety, the late Sir William Jones\nfound the grand maxim, \u2018do unto others as you would wish them\nto do unto you,\u2019 implied in the discourses of Lysias, Thales and\nPittacus, and, word for word, in the original of Confucius. The\nobligation _to render good for evil_, he affirms, is inculcated in\nthe religious books of the Hindoos and Arabians; in confirmation of\nwhich he cites many passages from them. The sentiment of moralists\nhas everywhere been graven upon the human heart. It is enough\nthat our Lord has sanctioned the sublime precepts that belong to\nour faith with immortal recompenses; and still more may we rely\nupon those sanctions, when we add to them the present pleasure of\nperforming good actions.[27a]\n\nLet us add, that in enjoining the gospel maxim _to render good\nfor evil_, we inculcate elevation of mind, the source of all the\nvirtues. But christian moralists have too often been tempted to\nneutralize or destroy the effect of their precepts, by pushing\nthem to absurd or impracticable lengths. To practise forgiveness,\nand to do good, are evangelical commands, as sublime as they are\nconformable to our natural views of duty. To enjoin upon us to\ndegrade ourselves in the estimate of our enemies, by feeling and\nacting towards them as though they were our friends, as some have\nunderstood the bearing of the christian precept, would be injurious\nand impracticable. Socrates pardoned his enemies, but preserved\nan imposing dignity. There was no abasement in the infinitely\nhigher example of him, who, suffering on the cross, prayed for his\nmurderers.\n\nIf such are our obligations as men and Christians towards our\nenemies, what duties ought we not to fulfil to those benefactors\nwho have steadily sought occasions to be useful to us, to ward off\ndanger from us, and to repair our misfortunes? To such let us seek\nincessant opportunities of acquitting our debt. Gratitude will\nprolong the pleasure conferred by their benefits.\n\nIndulgence, and the desire to oblige, seem to me the two principal\nmeans of conciliating to ourselves the affections of our kind.\nA virtue which at least commands their esteem is integrity.\nNot only is he who practises it, faithful to his engagements,\nsince he allows no promises of his to be held slight, but his\nuprightness makes itself felt in all his actions, and frankness\nin all his conversation. The faults that he commits he is prompt\nto acknowledge; he confesses them without false shame, and seeks\nneither to exaggerate nor extenuate them. Touching the interests\nwhich are common to him and other people, he decides for simple\njustice; and, in so awarding, does not deem that he injures\nhimself, his first possession being his own self-respect. Without\nrendering me high services, he obliges me in the lesser charities,\nand procures me one of the most vivid pleasures I can taste, that\nof contemplating a noble character.\n\nAmong the virtues which ought to secure a kind regard, we\nuniversally assign to modesty a high rank. A simple and modest man\nlives unknown, until a moment, which he could not have foreseen,\nreveals his estimable qualities and his generous actions. I compare\nhim to the concealed flower springing from an humble stem, which\nescapes the view, and is discovered only by its perfume. Pride\nquickly fixes the eye, and he who is always his own eulogist,\ndispenses every other person from the obligation to praise him.\nA truly modest man, emerging from his transient obscurity, will\nobtain those delightful praises which the heart awards without\neffort. His superiority, far from being importunate, will become\nattractive. Modesty gives to talents and virtues the same charm\nwhich chastity adds to beauty.\n\nLet us carry into the world neither curiosity nor indiscretion.\nCuriosity is the defect of a little mind, which, not knowing how\nto employ itself at home, feels the necessity of being amused with\nthe occupations of others. In relation to minute objects it is\nridiculous. In important affairs it becomes odious. Let us know\nnothing about those debates, piques and parties, which it is not in\nour power to settle.\n\nAn attribute so precious, that, in my eye, it becomes a virtue, is\na gentle and constant equality of temper.--To sustain it, not only\nexacts a pure mind, but a vigor of understanding which resists the\npetty vexations and fleeting contrarieties which a multitude of\nobjects and events are continually bringing. What an unalterable\ncharm does it give to the society of the man who possesses it! How\nis it possible to avoid loving him whom we are certain always to\nfind with serenity on his brow and a smile in his countenance?\n\nI foresee that our brilliant observers, as they run over these\nprecepts, will say to me, \u2018you resemble those philosophers who\ntrace the plan of a republic, without taking into the account the\npassions of men or the state of society; a thousand times more\nunreasonable, than those writers of romance who publish their\ndreams as dreams. Your maxims upon indulgence will only awaken for\nyou the pity due to good natured weakness. The maxim of the world\nis, be adroit to seize upon defects, and prompt to censure the\nweaknesses of men, that you may intimidate those who can only serve\nto annoy you; and give up to ridicule those who can only amuse\nyou. Make a display of your desire to oblige. Pronounce sentimental\nphrases with grace. Make dupes if you can; but take care that you\ndo not become one yourself, by having your own maxims practised\nupon you. Credit is not revenue, but a sum which becomes exhausted\nin proportion as you spend upon it, without replacing it. Ought I\nto be modest when so many examples prove that talents are a small\nthing, if there be not subjoined the happy talent of making them\nknown. The man who speaks of himself with modesty is believed upon\nhis word; and when I search for the causes of that admiration which\ncertain personages have obtained, I can discover no other than the\nlong obstinacy and persevering intrepidity which they have put in\nrequisition to praise themselves. There are eulogies which men\ngive themselves, of which, as of the calumnies that they wipe out,\nsome traces will always remain. Finally, opinion alone renders our\nqualities estimable; and he who, with a view to succeed, should\nimmediately cultivate the tawdry virtues which you celebrate,\nwould be as ridiculous as he who should appear in society in the\ncostume worn a century ago.\u2019 They who say this are as right, in\ntheir views, as I am in mine. If the interest with which our kind\ninspires us, if our virtues cannot shield us from injustice, let us\nhold ourselves aloof from opinion, and while we allow the multitude\ntheir way of thinking, let it not disturb our repose. Among the\ncircumstances essential to felicity, I count the attachment of some\nindividuals, but not popularity.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XIV.\n\nOF MARRIAGE.\n\n\nSince we cannot assure ourselves of the general affection, nor even\nof the justice of men, it becomes our interest, in the midst of the\ngreat mass, that we cannot move, to create a little world, which we\ncan arrange at the disposal of our reason and affections.\n\nIn this retreat, dictated to us alike by our instincts and our\nhearts, let us forget the chimeras which the crowd pursue; and if\nthe men of fashion and the world stare, ridicule, and even condemn\nus, let their murmurs sound in our ears as the dashing of the waves\non the distant shore, to the stranger, under the hospitable roof\nwhich shelters him from the storm.\n\nThe universe of reason and affection must be composed of a single\nfamily. Of that universe a wedded pair must be the centre. A wife\nis the best and the only disinterested friend, by the award of\nnature. She remains such, when fortune has scattered all others.\nHow many have been recalled to hope by a virtuous and affectionate\nwife, when all beside had been lost! How many, retrieved from\nutter despondency, have felt in an ineffable effusion of heart,\nthat conjugal heroism and constancy were an ample indemnity for\nthe deprivation of all other good things! How many, undeceived by\nexternal illusions, have in this way been brought home to their\nreal good! If we wish to see the attributes of conjugal heroism,\nin their purest brilliancy, let us suppose the husband in the last\ndegree of wretchedness. Let us imagine him not only culpable, but\nso estimated, and an outcast from society. Repentance itself, in\nthe view of candor, has not been available to cloak his faults.\nShe alone, accusing him not, is only prodigal of consolations.\nEmbracing duties as severe as his reverses, she voluntarily shares\nhis captivity or exile. He finds still, on the faithful bosom of\ninnocence, a refuge, where remorse becomes appeased; as in former\ndays, the proscribed found, at the foot of the altar, an asylum\nagainst the fury of men.\n\nMarriage is generally assumed as a means of increasing credit\nand fortune, and of assuring success in the world. It should be\nundertaken as a chief element of happiness, in the retirement of\ndomestic repose.[28] I would wish that my disciple, while still in\nthe freshness of youth, might have reason and experience enough\nto select the beloved person, whom he would desire one day to\nespouse. I would hope, that, captivated with her dawning qualities,\nand earnestly seeking her happiness, he might win her tenderness,\nand find his satisfaction in training her to a conformity to his\ntastes, habits and character.\n\nThe freshness of her docile nature demands his first forming cares.\nAs she advances in life she is moulded to happy changes, adapted\nto supply his defects. She is reared modest, amiable, instructed,\nrespectable, and respected; one day to govern his family, and\ndirect his house, by diffusing around the domestic domain, order\nand peace. Let neither romances, metaphysics, pedantry nor fashion\nrender a qualification for these important duties, either trifling\nor vulgar in her view. Still, domestic duties are by no means to\noccupy all her hours. The time which is not devoted to them will\nflow quietly on in friendly circles, not numerous, but animated\nby gayety, friendship and the inexplicable pleasures which spring\nfrom intercourse with rational society. There are, also, more\nunimportant duties, which we expect her not to neglect. We wish\nher to occupy some moments at a toilet; where simplicity should be\nthe basis of elegance; and where native tact might develope the\ngraces, and vary, and multiply, if I may so say, the forms of her\nbeauty. In fine, the versatility of her modes of rendering herself\nagreeable, should increase the chances of always escaping ennui in\nher presence.\n\nBut train women to visit a library as _savans_, and they will be\nlikely to bring from it pedantry without solid instruction; and\ncoquetry without feminine amiability. I would not be understood to\nquestion the capability of the female understanding. I am not sure\nthat I would wish the wife of my friend to have been an author,\nthough some of the most amiable and enlightened women have been\nsuch. But I deem that in their mental constitution, and in the\nassignment of their lot, providence has designated them to prefer\nthe graces to erudition; and that to acquire a wreath of laurels,\nthey must ordinarily relinquish their native crown of roses.[28a]\nWhen we see a husband and wife thus united by tenderness, good\nhearts and simple tastes, everything presages for them a delightful\nfuturity. Let them live contented in their retirement. Instead of\nwishing to blazon, let them conceal their happiness, and exist for\neach other. Life will become to them the happiest of dreams.\n\nPerhaps the world will say, \u2018you speak, it may be, of such a wife\nas you would be understood to possess yourself. But you do not\npaint marriage in the abstract, while you thus describe happiness\nas finding a habitation within the domestic walls, and pain and\nsorrow without: how many people find eternal ennui at home, and\nrespire pleasure, only when they have fled their own threshold.\u2019\nThere are few wives so perfect, says La Bruyere, \u2018as to hinder\ntheir husbands from repenting at least once in a day, that they\nhave a wife; or from envying the happiness of him who has none.\u2019\n\nThis sentence, instead of containing a just observation, is only\nan epigram. In looking round a circle of individuals, ridiculously\ncalled the world, we shall find happy family establishments less\nrare than we imagine. Besides, it would be absurd to count among\nunhappy unions, all those which are not wholly exempt from stormy\npassions. Not only is perfect felicity a chimerical expectation\non the earth, but we meet with many people who would be fatigued\ninto ennui in a perfect calm, and who require a little of the spice\nof contrariety to season the repast of life. I would not covet\ntheir taste; but there are modes of being singular, which, without\nimparting happiness, procure pleasures. Finally, supposing the\nnumber of unhappy marriages to be as immense as is contended, what\nis the conclusion? The great majority adopting, as maxims of life,\nprinciples so different from mine, it would be strange if they\nobtained such results as I desire.\n\nIn these days, the deciding motive with parents, in relation\nto marriage, is interest; and, what seems to me revolting in\nthe spirit of the age, is, that the young have also learned to\ncalculate. When a man marries simply on a speculation of interest,\nif he sees his fortune and distinction secured, reign disorder and\nalienation in his house as they may, he is still happier than he\ndeserves to be.\n\nOur marriages of inclination guaranty happiness no more than our\nmarriages of interest. What results should be anticipated from\nthe blind impulse of appetite? Let there be mutual affection,\nsuch as reason can survey with a calm and severe scrutiny. Such\nlove as is painted in romances is but a fatal fever. It is\nchildren alone who believe themselves in love, only when they feel\nthemselves in a delirium. They have imagined that life should be\na continual ecstasy; and these indulged dreams of anticipation\nspoil the reality of wedded life. I have supposed the husband\nolder than his wife. I have imagined him forming the character of\nhis young, fair and docile companion; and that, so to speak, they\nhave become assimilated to each other\u2019s tastes and habits. The\nright combination of reason and love assures for them, under such\ncircumstances, as much as possible, a futurity of happiness.\n\nI might here speak of the misery of jealousy and infidelity, and\nthe comparative guilt of these vices in the husband and the wife.\nBut these are sources of torment only in unions contracted and\nsustained by the maxims and the spirit of the world. According\nto my views these crimes could not mar the marriages which were\nundertaken from right motives, and under the approving sanction of\nsevere reason. I, therefore, pass them by, as not belonging to my\nsubject; and as supposing that when marriage is the result of wise\nforesight and regulated choice, and when its duties are discharged\nfrom a proper sense of their obligation, such faults can not occur.\n\nAnother cause of disunion springs from the proud temper of some\nwives. They erroneously and obstinately persuade themselves\nthat fidelity includes all their duty. More than one husband,\nincessantly tormented by an imperious and capricious wife, feels\nalmost disposed to envy the gentle spouse who sleeps pleasantly\nunder deceitful caresses. As much as an honest man ought to avoid\ncrimes, in order to merit his reputation and sustain it, ought\nthe highest meed awarded to women to be bestowed, not on those\nalone who are chaste, but on those who know how to watch over the\nhappiness of their family by eager attentions and studious cares.\n\nThis petulance of temper is commonly supposed to be a conjoined\nattribute of conjugal fidelity. I have sometimes seen wives\nboth peevish and coquettish, and I cannot imagine a more odious\ncombination. If we despise the man who is rough and slovenly at\nhome, and becomes charming in society, what sentiment does that\nwife merit who wears out her husband\u2019s patience with her arrogance,\nand puts on seducing graces, and affects sensibility, in the\npresence of strangers?\n\nI have often heard men who were sensible upon every other subject,\nexpress their conviction that the orientals, in excluding their\nwomen from all eyes but their own, had established the only\nreasonable domestic policy. There is no more wit than humanity in\nthis barbarous sentiment, however frequently it is uttered. No one\ncould be in earnest, in wishing to copy, into free institutions,\nthis appalling vestige of slavery. But my inward respect for\nwomen withholds me from flattering them. Authority ought to\nbelong to the husband; and the influence of tenderness, graces and\nthe charms of constancy, gentleness and truth, constituting the\nappropriate female empire, belongs of right to the wife. I take\nleave to illustrate this phrase. Masculine vigor, and aptitude\nto contend and resist, clearly indicate that nature has confided\nauthority to man. To dispossess him of it, and control him by a\nstill more irresistible sway, it is necessary that the feeble\nsex should learn patience, docility, passive courage, and the\nmanagement of their appropriate weapons in danger and sorrow, and\nto become energetic for the endurance of the peaceful cares of the\ndomestic establishment. Man is formed by nature for the calls of\nactive courage; and woman, for the appalling scenes of pain and\naffliction, and the agony of the sick and dying bed. In a word,\nall argument apart, nature has clearly demonstrated to which sex\nauthority belongs.\n\nI discover that the defects of man spring from the tendency of his\nnatural traits, in which force predominates, to run to excess. I\nsee his gentle companion endowed with attributes and qualities\nnaturally tending to temper his defects. The means she has received\nto reach this end announce that it is the purpose of nature that\nshe should use them with this view. She has charms which, when\nrightly applied, none can resist. Her character is a happy compound\nof sensibility, wisdom and levity. She has superadded a felicity of\naddress which she owes to her organization, and which the reserve,\nthat her education imposes, serves to develope. Thus the qualities,\nand even the imperfections of the two sexes serve to bring them\ntogether. It follows, that man should possess authority, and woman\ninfluence, for their mutual happiness.\n\nWhen the wife commands, I cease to behold a respectable married\npair. I see a ridiculous tyrant, and a still more ridiculous slave.\nIt is vain to urge that she may be most capable of authority, and\nthat her orders may be conformable to wisdom and justice. They\nare absurd, from the very circumstance that they are orders. The\nvirtues which the husband ought to practise towards his wife must\nhave their origin in love, which can only be inspired, and which\nflies all restraint. In a single position, the wife honors herself\nin assuming authority. It is when reverses have overwhelmed and\ndesolated her husband, so that, ceasing to sustain her and changing\nthe natural order, she supports him. Grant that he receives hope\nas her gift; grant that he is compelled to blush in imitating her\nexample of courage; she aspires to this power no longer than to\nbe able to restore him to the place whence misery had cast him\ndown.[30]\n\nIt is a truth that ought not to be contested, that dissatisfied\nhusbands and wives often love each other more than they imagine.\nSuppose them to believe themselves indifferent; and to seem so; and\neven on the verge of mutual hate; should one of them fall sick, we\nsee the other inspired with sincere alarms. Suppose them on the\neve of separation; when the fatal moment comes, both recoil from\nthe act. Habit almost causes the pains, to which we have been long\naccustomed, to become cause of regret when they cease. When the\ntwo begin mutually to complain of their destiny, I counsel each,\ninstead of wishing to criminate and correct each other, to give\neach other an example of mutual forbearance and indulgence. It may\nbe, that the cause of their mutual dissatisfaction is unreal;\nthe supposed wrong not intended, the suspicion false. Candor and\nforgiveness will appease all. The husband may have gone astray only\nin thought; which is beyond human privilege to fathom. The wife\nmay have minor defects and an unequal temper, without forfeiting\nmuch excellence and many remaining claims to be loved. The morbid\ninfluence of ill health and irresistible temperament, in their\npowerful action upon the temper, may have been the source whence\nthe faults flowed on either part; and the mutual wrongs may thus\nhave been, in some sense, independent of the will of the parties.\nBound, as they are, in such intimate and almost indissoluble\nrelations, before they give that happiness, which they hoped\nand promised, to the winds, let them exhaust their efforts of\nself-command and mutual indulgence, to bring back deep and true\naffection.\n\nThe purest happiness of earth is, unquestionably, the portion of\ntwo beings wisely and fitly united in the bonds of indissoluble\nconfidence and affection. What a touching picture does Madame de\nStael present in these lines: \u2018I saw, during my sojourn in England,\na man of the highest merit united to a wife worthy of him. One\nday, as we were walking together, we met some of those people that\nthe English call gipseys, who generally wander about in the woods\nin the most deplorable condition. I expressed pity for them thus\nenduring the union of all the physical evils of nature. \u201cHad it\nbeen necessary,\u201d said the affectionate husband, pointing to his\nwife, \u201cin order to spend my life with her, that I should have\npassed thirty years in begging with them, we would still have been\nhappy.\u201d \u201cYes,\u201d responded the wife, \u201cthe happiest of beings.\u201d\u2019\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XV.\n\nCHILDREN.\n\n\nOne of the happiest days, and, perhaps, the most beautiful of\nlife, is when the birth of a child opens the heart of the parent\nto emotions, as yet, unknown.[31] Yet what torments are prepared\nby this epoch! What painful anxiety, what agonies their sufferings\nexcite! What terror, when we fear for their infant life! These\nalarms terminate not with their early age. The inquietude with\nwhich their parents watch over their destiny fills every period of\ntheir life to their last sigh.\n\nThe compensating satisfaction which they bring must be very vivid,\nsince it counterbalances so many sufferings. In order to love them,\nwe have no need to be convinced that they will respond to our\ncares, and one day repay them. If there be in the human heart one\ndisinterested sentiment, it is parental love. Our tenderness for\nour children is independent of reflection. We love them because\nthey are our children. Their existence makes a part of ours; or,\nrather, is more than ours. All that is either useful or pleasant\nto them, brings us a pure happiness, springing from their health,\ntheir gayety, their amusements.\n\nThe chief end which we ought to propose to ourselves, in rearing\nthem, is to train and dispose them so that they may wisely enjoy\nthat existence which is accorded them. Of all the happy influences\nwhich can be brought to bear upon their mind and manners, none\nis more beneficial than the example of parental gentleness. The\ngood Plutarch most eloquently advanced this doctrine in ancient\ntime. Montaigne, Rousseau, M\u2019Kenzie, and various writers of minor\nfame among the moderns, have reproduced his ideas, and, by their\nauthority, have finally effected a happy revolution in education.\nI delight to trace the most important ideas thus reproduced by\nenlightened and noble minds in different ages. It is chiefly by\npersevering in the system of the influence of gentleness that we\nmay expect an ultimate melioration in the human character and\ncondition.\n\nBut scarcely has any such salutary change been effected, before\nminds, either superficial or soured, see only the inconveniences\nwhich accompany it; and, instead of evading or correcting them,\nwould return to the point whence they started. We hear people\nregretting the decline of the severity of ancient education; and\nmaintaining the wisdom of those contrarieties and vexations which\nchildren used to experience; \u2018a fitting discipline of preparation,\u2019\nsay they, \u2018to prepare them for the sorrows of life.\u2019 Would they,\non the same principle, inflict bruises and contusions, to train\nthem to the right endurance of those that carelessness or accident\nmight bring? \u2018It is an advantage,\u2019 say they, \u2018to put them to an\napprenticeship of pain at the period when the sorrow it inflicts\nis light and transient.\u2019 This mode of speaking, with many others\nof similar import, presents a combination of much error with some\ntruth.\n\nThe sufferings of childhood seem to us trifling and easy to endure,\nbecause time has interposed distance between them and us; and we\nhave no fear of ever meeting them again. It does not cease to be\na fact, that the child that passes a year under the discipline\nof the ferule of a severe master, is as unhappy as a man deprived\na year of his liberty. The latter, in truth, has less reason to\ncomplain; since he ought to find, in the discipline of his reason,\nand his maturity and force of character, more powerful motives for\npatient endurance. Parents! Providence has placed the destiny of\nyour children in your hands. When you thus sacrifice the present\nto an uncertain future, you ought to have strong proof that you\nwill put at their disposal the means of indemnification. If the\nsacrifice of the present to the future were indispensable, I would\nnot dissuade from it. But my conviction is, that the best means\nof preparing them for the future may be found in rendering them\nas happy as possible for the present. If it should be your severe\ntrial to be deprived of them in their early days, you will, at\nleast, have the consolation of being able to say, \u2018I have rendered\nthem happy during the short time they were confided to me.\u2019 Strive\nthen, by gentleness, guided by wisdom and authority, to cast the\nsunshine of enjoyment upon the necessary toils and studies of the\nmorning of their existence.\n\nIt is the stern award of nature to bring them sorrows. Our task is\nto soothe them. I feel an interest when I see the child regret the\ntrinket it has broken, or the bird it has reared. Nature in this\nway, gives them the first lessons of pain, and strengthens them to\nsustain the more bitter losses of maturer days. Let us prudently\nsecond the efforts of nature; and to console the weeping child,\nlet us not attempt to change the course of these fugitive ideas,\nnor to efface the vexation by a pleasure. In unavoidable suffering\nlet the dawning courage and reason find strength for endurance.\nLet us first share the regrets, and gently bring the sufferer to\nfeel the inutility of tears. Let us accustom him not to throw away\nhis strength in useless efforts; and let us form his mind to bear\nwithout a murmur the yoke of necessity. These maxims, I am aware,\nare directly against the spirit of modern education, which is\nalmost entirely directed towards the views of ambition.\n\nBut while I earnestly inculcate gentleness in parental discipline,\nI would not confound it with weakness. I disapprove that\nfamiliarity between parents and children which is unfavorable to\nsubordination. Fashion is likely to introduce an injurious equality\ninto this relation. I see the progress of this dangerous effeminacy\nwith regret. The dress and expenditures which would formerly have\nsupplied ten children, scarcely satisfy at present the caprices of\none. This foolish complaisance of parents prepares, for the future\nhusbands and wives, a task most difficult to fulfil. Let us not,\nby anticipating and preventing the wishes of children, teach them\nto be indolent in searching for their own pleasures. Their age is\nfertile in this species of invention. That they may be successful\nin seizing enjoyment, little more is requisite to be performed on\nour part than to break their chains.\n\nThere are two fruitful sources of torments for children. One is,\nwhat the present day denominates politeness. It is revolting to me\nto see children early trained to forego their delightful frankness\nand simplicity, and learning artificial manners. We wish them to\nbecome little personages; and we compel them to receive tiresome\ncompliments, and to repeat insignificant formulas of common-place\nflattery. In this way, politeness, destined to impart amenity to\nlife, becomes a source of vexation and restraint. It would seem\nas if we thought it so important a matter to teach the usages of\nsociety, that they could never be known unless the study were\ncommenced in infancy. Besides, do we flatter ourselves, that we\nshall be able to teach children the modes and the vocabulary of\npoliteness, without initiating them, at the same time, in the\nrudiments of falsehood? They are compelled to see that we consider\nit a trifle. If we wish them to become flatterers and dishonest, I\nask what more efficient method we could take?\n\nLabor is the second source of their sufferings. I would by no\nmeans be understood to dissuade from the assiduous cultivation of\nhabits of industry. You may enable children to remove mountains,\nif you will contrive to render their tasks a matter of amusement\nand interest. The extreme curiosity of children announces an\ninstinctive desire for instruction. But instead of profiting by it,\nwe adopt measures which tend to stifle it. We render their studies\ntiresome, and then say that the young naturally tire of study.\n\nWhen the parent is sufficiently enlightened to rear his child\nhimself, instead of plying him with rudimental books, dictionaries\nand restraint, let him impart the first instructions by familiar\nconversation. Ideas advanced in this way are accommodated to\nthe comprehension of the pupil, by mutual good feeling rendered\nattractive, and brought directly within the embrace of his mind.\nThis instruction leads him to observe, and accustoms him to\ncompare, reflect and discriminate, offers the sciences under\ninteresting associations, and inspires a natural thirst for\ninstruction. Of all results which education can produce, this is\nthe most useful. A youth of fifteen, trained in this way, will come\ninto possession of more truths, mixed with fewer errors, than much\nolder persons reared in the common way. He will be distinguished by\nthe early maturity of his reason, and by his eagerness to cultivate\nthe sciences, which, instead of producing fatigue or disgust,\nwill every day give birth to new ideas and new pleasures. I am\nnevertheless little surprised, that the scrupulous advocates of the\nexisting routine should insist that such a method tends to form\nsuperficial thinkers. I can only say to these profound panegyrists\nof the present order of instruction, that the method which I\nrecommend, was that of the Greeks.--Their philosophers taught while\nwalking in the shade of the portico or of trees, and were ignorant\nof the art of rendering study tiresome, and not disposed to throw\nover it the benefits of constraint. Modern instructers ought,\ntherefore, to find that they were shallow reasoners, and that their\npoets and artists could have produced only crude and unfinished\nefforts.[33]\n\nBesides, this part of education is of trifling importance, compared\nwith the paramount obligation to give the pupil robust health, pure\nmorals, and an energetic mind. I deeply regret that the despotic\nempire of opinion is more powerful than paternal love. Instead of\ngravely teaching to your son the little arts of shining in the\nworld, have the courage to say to him, \u2018oblige those of thy kind\nwhose sufferings thou canst lighten, and exhibit a constant and\nuniversal example of good morals. Form, every evening, projects\nnecessary for enjoying a happy and useful succeeding day.\u2019 Thus you\nwill see him useful, good and happy, if not great in the world\u2019s\nestimation. You will behold him peacefully descending the current\nof time. In striking the balance with life, he will be able to say,\nI have known only those sufferings which no wisdom could evade, and\nno efforts repel. But such are the prejudices of the age, to give\nsuch counsels to a son requires rare and heroic courage.\n\nIs not that filial ingratitude, of which parents so generally\ncomplain, the bitter fruit of their own training?--You fill their\nhearts with mercenary passions, and with measureless ambition.\nYou break the tenderest ties, and send them to distant public\nschools. Your children, in turn, put your lessons to account,\nand abandon your importunate and declining age, if you depend on\nthem, to mercenary hands. When they were young, you ridiculed\nthem out of their innocent recklessness, and frankness, and want\nof worldly wisdom. You vaunted to them that ambition and those\narts of rising, which, put in practice, have steeled their hearts\nagainst filial piety, as well as the other affections that belong\nnot to calculation. Since the paramount object of your training\nwas to teach them to shine, and make the most out of every body,\nyou have at least a right to expect from their vanity, pompous\nfuneral solemnities. I revere that indication of infinite wisdom,\nthat has rendered the love of the parent more anxious and tender\nthan that of the child. The intensity of the affections ought to\nbe proportionate to the wants of the beings that excite them. But\ningratitude is not in nature. Better training would have produced\nother manners. In rearing our children with more enlightened\ncare, in inspiring them with moderate desires, in reducing their\neagerness for brilliancy and distinction, we shall render them\nhappy, without stifling their natural filial sentiments; and we\nshall thus use the best means of training them to sustain and\nsoothe our last moments, as we embellished their first days.[34]\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XVI.\n\nOF FRIENDSHIP.\n\n\nLet us bring within the family circle a few persons of amiable\nmanners and simple tastes. Our domestic retreat may then become our\nuniverse. But we must search for real friends, with capabilities\nfor continuing such. If interest and pleasure break the accidental\nties of a day, shall friendship, which was always a stranger to the\nconnexion, be accused of the infraction?\n\nA real friend must not be expected from the common ties of vulgar\ninterest; but must be, in the circle to which he belongs, as\na brother of adoption. So simple should be our confidence in\nthe entireness of his affection, and the disinterestedness and\nwisdom of his advice, as to incline us to consult him without\nafflicting our wife or children by a useless communication of our\nperplexities. To him we should be able to confide our fears; and\nwhile we struggle, by his advice and aid to escape the pressing\nevil which menaces to overwhelm us, our family may still repose in\ntranquil security.[35]\n\nIf he suffer in turn, we share his pains. If he have pleasures,\nwe reciprocally enjoy them. If either party experience reverses,\ninstead of finding himself alone in misery, he receives\nconsolations so touching and tender, that he ceases to complain of\na lot which has enabled him to become acquainted with the depth of\nthe resources of friendship.\n\nHow pure is the sentiment, how simple the pleasures, which flow\nfrom the intercourse of two men united by similar opinions and\nlike desires, who have both cultivated letters, the arts, and\ntrue wisdom! With what rapidity the moments of these charming\nconversations fly! Even the hours consecrated to study are less\npleasant, perhaps less instructive. Such a friend, so to speak, is\nof a different nature from that of the rest of men. They either\nconceal our defects, or cause us to see them from motives of ill\nfeeling. A friend so discusses them, in our presence, as not to\nwound us. He kindly reproaches us with faults, to our face, which\nhe extenuates, or excuses before others in our absence. We can\nnever fully comprehend to what extent a friend may be useful and\ndear until after having been a long time the faithful companion of\nhis good and evil fortune. What emotions we experience in giving\nourselves up to the remembrance of the common perils, storms and\ntrials we have experienced together! It is never without tenderness\nof heart that we say, \u2018we have had the same thoughts, affections\nand hopes. Such an event penetrated us with common joy; such\nanother filled us with grief. Uniting our efforts, we rescued a\nvictim of poverty and misfortune. We mutually shared his tears of\ngratitude. The hard necessity of circumstances separated us; and\nour paths so diverged that seas and mountains divided us. But we\nstill remained present to each other, in communion of thought.\nHe had fears for me, and I for him, as we foresaw each other\u2019s\ndangers. I learned his condition, interpreted his thoughts and\nfeelings, and said, \u2018such a fear agitates him; he forms such a\nproject, conceives such a hope.\u2019 Finally, we met again. What\ncharms, what effusion of heart in the union!\u2019\n\nIt is a puerile absurdity to be proud of the reputation of one to\nwhom we are united by the ties of blood--a distinction which nature\ngave us. But we may be justly proud of the rare qualities of our\nfriend. The ties of this relation are not the work of nature or\ncontingency. We prove that, in meriting his esteem, we, at least,\nresemble him in the qualities of his heart.\n\nI immediately form a high opinion of the man whom I hear earnest in\nthe applause of the talents or virtues of his friend. He possesses\nthe qualities which he applauds; since he has need to affirm their\nexistence in the person he loves.\n\nThis noble and pure sentiment has had its peaceable heroes. What\nnames, what examples could I not cite, in ancient and in modern\ntimes! What splendid and affecting proofs of identity of fortune,\njoys and sorrows, and even danger and death! I knew two friends,\nof whom every one spoke with respect. One of them was asked the\nextent of his fortune? \u2018Mine is small,\u2019 he replied, \u2018but my friend\nis rich.\u2019 The other, a few days before he died of a contagious\ndisease, asked, \u2018why so many persons were allowed to enter his\nchamber? No one,\u2019 he added, \u2018ought to be admitted but my friend.\u2019\nThus were they one in fortune, in life and in death.[36]\n\nI deem, that even moralists have sought to render this peaceable\nsentiment, this gentle affection, and the only one exempt from\nstorms, too exclusive. I am aware, how much our affections become\nenfeebled, in proportion as their objects multiply. There is force\nin the quaint expression of an old author. \u2018Love is like a large\nstream which bears heavy laden boats. Divide it into many channels,\nand they run aground.\u2019 Still, we may give the honored name of\nfriend to several, without profaning it, if there exist between us\nmutual sympathy, high esteem and tender interest; if our pleasures\nand pains are, in some sense, common stock, and we are reciprocally\ncapable of a sincere devotion to each other\u2019s welfare. As much,\nhowever, as I revere the real sentiment, I am disgusted by the\nsickly or exaggerated affectation of it.\n\nThe sentiment is still more delightful when inspired by a woman. I\nshall be asked, if it can exist in its purity between persons of\nthe different sexes? I answer in the affirmative, when the impulses\nof youth no longer agitate the heart. We then experience the whole\ncharm of the sentiment, as the difference of sex, which is never\nentirely forgotten, imparts to it a vague and touching tenderness\nand an ideal delight for which language is too poor to furnish\nterms.\n\nWhy can love and friendship, the sunshine of existence, decay\nin the heart? Why are they not eternal? But since it is not so,\nif we are cruelly deceived in our affections, the surest means\nof medicating our pain is, instead of cherishing misanthropic\ndistrust, to look round and form the same generous ties anew. Has\nyour friend abandoned you? or, worse, has your wife become unworthy\nof your love? It is better to be deceived a thousand times than\nto add, to the grief of wounded affection, the insupportable\nburden of general distrust, misanthropy and hatred. Let these\nbaneful feelings never usurp the place of those sentiments which\nmust constitute human happiness. Pardon to those by whom you have\nbeen loved, the sorrows which their abandonment has caused you, in\nconsideration of those days of the past which was embellished by\ntheir friendship.\n\nBut these treasons and perfidies are only frequent in the\nintercourse of those who are driven about by the whirlwinds of\nlife; in which so many opposing interests, so many deceitful\npleasures confuse and separate men. The simple minded and good,\nwhose days flow pleasantly in retreat, every day value more the\nprice of those ties that unite them. Their happiness is veiled and\nguarantied by a guardian obscurity.\n\nI give place to none of the illusions of inexperience in regard\nto men.[37] The errors, contradictions and vices with which they\nare charged, exist. I admit that the greater part of satires are\nfaithful paintings. But there are still to be found, everywhere,\npersons whose manners are frank, whose heart is good, and whose\ntemper amiable. These persons exist in sufficient numbers to\ncompose this new world of which I have spoken. Writers are disposed\nto declaim against men. I have never ceased to feel good will\ntowards my kind. I have chosen only to withdraw from the multitude,\nin order to select my position in the centre of a small society.\nFor me there are no longer stupid or wicked people on the earth.\n\nI have examined the essential things of life, tranquillity and\nindependence of mind, health, competence and the affection of some\nof our kind. I wish now to give my observations something more\nof detail and diversity. But I wish it still to be borne in mind,\nthat I give only the materials and outlines of an essay, and make\nno pretensions to fill out a complete treatise. I wish that a\ntemple may be raised to happiness. Hands, more skilful than mine,\nwill rear it. It is sufficient to my purpose to indicate those\ndelightful sites, in the midst of which it may be erected.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XVII.\n\nTHE PLEASURES OF THE SENSES.\n\n\nNature has decreed, that each one of our senses should be a source\nof pleasure. But if we seek our enjoyment, only in physical\nsensations, the same stern arbiter has enacted, that our capability\nof pleasure should soon be exhausted, and that, palled and\ndisgusted, we should die without having known true happiness.[38]\n\nExactly in proportion as pleasures are less associated with\nthe mind, their power to give us any permanent satisfaction is\ndiminished. On the contrary, they become vivid and durable,\nprecisely in the degree in which they awaken and call forth moral\nideas. They become celestial, when they connect the past with the\npresent, the present with the future, and the whole with heaven.\n\nIn proportion as we scrutinize the pleasures of the senses, we\nshall always find their charm increasing in the same degree, as\nlosing, if I may so say, their physical stain, they rise in the\nscale of purification, and become transformed, in some sense, to\nthe dignity of moral enjoyments.\n\nI look at a painting: it represents an old man, a child, a woman\ngiving alms, and a soldier, whose attitude expresses astonishment.\nI admire the fidelity, the truth and coloring of the picture;\nand my eye is intensely gratified. But remaining ignorant of\nthe subject, I go away, and the whole shortly vanishes from my\nmemory. I see it again; and am now struck with the inscription at\nthe bottom, \u2018_Date obolum Belisario_.\u2019 I remember an interesting\npassage of history. A crowd of moral images throng upon my spirit:\nI soften to tenderness; and I comprehend the affecting lesson,\nwhich the artist is giving me. I review the painting, again and\nagain; and thrill at the view of the blind warrior, and of the\nchild holding out his helmet to receive alms.\n\nWhen we travel, those points of view in the landscape which long\nfix our eye, are those which awaken ideas of innocence and peace;\naffecting the heart with associations connected with the morning\nof our life; or ideas of that power and immensity, which move and\nelevate the soul. The paintings of nature, as well as those of men,\nare thus capable of being embellished by moral associations. In\ntravelling, I perceive a delightful isle embosomed in a peaceful\nlake. While I contemplate it, with the simple pleasure excited by\na charming landscape, I am told that it is inhabited by a happy\npair, who were long crossed and separated; but who wore out the\npersevering opposition of fortune; and are now living there in\nthe innocence and peace of the first tenants of paradise. How\ndifferent an interest the landscape now assumes! I behold the happy\npair, without care or regret, sheltered from jealous observation,\nenjoying the dream of their happy love, gratefully contemplating\nthe Author of the beautiful nature around them, and elevating their\nlove and their hearts, as a sacrifice to HIM.\n\nSites, which, in themselves, have no peculiar charm, become most\nbeautiful as soon as they awaken touching remembrances. Suppose\nyourself cast by misfortune on the care of a stranger in a strange\nland. He attempts to dispel your dejection, and says, \u2018these\ncountries are hospitable, and nature here puts forth all her\nopulence; come, and enjoy it with us.\u2019 The gay landscapes, which\nspread before you, all assume the appearance of strangers; and\noffer no attractions. But while your eye traverses the scenery with\nindifference, you see blue hills melting into the distant horizon.\nNo person remarks them, but yourself. They resemble the mountains\nof your own country, the scenes upon which your infant view first\nrested. You turn away to conceal the new emotions, and your eyes\nare filling with tears. You continue to gaze fondly on those hills,\ndear to memory. In the midst of a rich landscape, they are all that\ninterests you. You return to review them every day, and demand\nof them their treasured remembrances and illusions,--the dearest\npleasures of your exile.[39]\n\nAll the senses would offer me examples, in illustration of this\nidea. Deprive the pleasures of physical love of moral associations,\nwhich touch the heart, and you take from it all that elevates the\nenjoyment above that of the lowest animals. Else, why do modesty,\ninnocence, the expression of unstained chastity, and the graces\nof simplicity possess such enchanting attractions? The truth, that\nthere exists in love a charm stronger than physical impulse, is\nnot unknown even to women of abandoned manners. The most dangerous\nof all those in this unhappy class, are they, who, not relying on\ntheir beauty, feign still to possess, or deeply to regret those\nvirtues, which they have really cast away.\n\nThere are useful duties upon this subject, which I should find\nit difficult to present in our language. In proportion as the\nmanners of a people reach the extreme refinement of artifice and\ncorruption, their words become chaste. It is a final and sterile\nhomage rendered to modesty.\n\nThe last delights which imagination can add to the pleasures of\nlove, are not to be sought in those vile places where libertinism\nis an art. We must imagine the first wedded days of a young and\ninnocent pair, whose spirits are blended in real affection, in\nsimilar tastes, pursuits and hopes, who realize those vague images\nwhich they had scarcely allowed before to float across their mind.\n\nThey who seek in the pleasures of taste only physical sensations,\ndegrade their minds and finish their useless existence in infirmity\nand brutal degradation. The pleasures of taste should only serve\nto render the other enjoyments more vivid, the imagination more\nbrilliant, and the pursuits of life more easy and pleasant.--All\nobjects should present themselves under a gay aspect. A happy veil\nshould shroud those pains which have been, or are to be endured.\nEven the wine cup, more powerful than the waters of Lethe, should\nnot only procure forgetfulness of the past, but embellishment of\nthe future.\n\nThe pleasures derived from odors are only vivid, when they impart\nto the mind a fleeting and vague exaltation. If the orientals\nindulge a passion for respiring perfumes, it is not solely to\nprocure pleasurable physical sensations. An embalmed atmosphere\nexalts the senses, and disposes the mind to pleasant revery, and\npaints dreams of paradise upon the indolent imagination.\n\nWere I disposed to present the details of a system upon this\nsubject, the sense of hearing would offer me a crowd of examples.\nThe brilliant and varied accents of the nightingale are ravishing.\nBut what a difference between hearing the melody from a cage, and\nlistening to the song at the noon of night, when a cool and pure\nair refreshes the lassitude of the burning day, and we behold\nobjects by the light of the moon, and hear the strains of the\nsolitary bird poured from her free bower!\n\nA symphony, the sounds of which only delight the ear, would soon\nbecome wearying. If it have no other determinate expression, it\nought, at least, to inspire revery, and produce an effect not\nunlike that of perfumes upon the orientals.\n\nSuppose we have been at an opera, got up with all the luxury of\nart. Emotions of delight and astonishment rapidly succeed each\nother, and we believe it impossible to experience new sensations\nof pleasure. In returning home, we chance to hear in the distance,\nthrough the stillness of night, a well remembered song of our\ninfancy, that was sung to us by some one dear to our memory. It\nis at once a music exciting more profound emotion, than all the\nstrains of art which we so recently thought could not be surpassed.\nThe remembrances of infancy and home rush upon the spirit, and\nefface the pompous spectacle, and the artificial graces of\nexecution.[39a]\n\nObservations to the same effect might be multiplied without end. If\nyou desire pleasures, fertile in happy remembrances, if you wish to\npreserve elevation of mind and freshness of imagination, choose,\namong the pleasures of the senses, only those which associate\nwith moral ideas. Feeble, when separated from the alliance of\nthose ideas, they become fatal when they exclude them. To dare\nto taste them, is to sacrifice happiness to pleasures which are\nalike ephemeral and degrading. It is to resemble him, who should\nstrip the tree of its flowers, to enjoy their beauty. He loses the\nfruits which would have followed, and scarcely casts his eye on the\nflowers before they have faded.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XVIII.\n\nTHE PLEASURES OF THE HEART.\n\n\nThe Creator has put forth in his gifts, a magnificence which should\nimpress our hearts. What variety in those affectionate sentiments,\nof the delights of which our natures are susceptible! Without going\nout of the family circle, I enumerate filial piety, fraternal\naffection, friendship, love, and parental tenderness. These\ndifferent sentiments can all co\u00ebxist in our hearts, and, so far\nfrom weakening each other, each tends to give vigor and intensity\nto the other. No doubt, the need of so many affections and props\nattests our feebleness and dependence. But I can scarcely conceive\nof the happiness, which a being, impassible to weaknesses and\nwants, could find in himself. I am ready to bless that infirmity of\nour natures, which is the source of such pure pleasures, and such\ntender affections.\n\nLet us avoid confounding that sensibility which exacts the\npleasures of the heart, with that which produces impassioned\ncharacters. They differ as essentially as the genial, vital\nwarmth, from the burning of a fever. Indolence, objects calculated\nstrongly to strike the imagination, and those maxims which corrupt\nthe understanding, develope a vague and ardent sensibility, which\nsometimes conducts to crime, and always to misery. The other\nspecies is approved by reason and preserved by virtue. We owe to it\nthose pure emotions which impart upon earth an indistinct sentiment\nof the joys of heaven.\n\nThere are men, however, who dread genuine sensibility; and,\nunder the conviction that it will multiply their pains, study to\neradicate the germs of it from their soul.\n\nHume was unhappily an unbeliever; but I might easily cite from\nhis life many honorable traits indicative of a good natural\ndisposition. He remarked to a friend, who confided to him his\nsecret sorrows, \u2018you entertain an internal enemy, who will always\nhinder you from being happy. It is your sensibility of heart.\u2019\n\u2018What!\u2019 responded his friend with a kind of terror, \u2018have you not\nsensibility?\u2019 \u2018No. My reason alone speaks, and it declares that it\nis right to soothe distress.\u2019\n\nIn listening to this reply of Hume, we are at once struck with the\nidea, that the greater part of those who adopt his principles,\ndo not pause at the same point with their model. They sink into\nthat heartless class, who see all human calamities with a dry eye,\nprovided they have no tendency to abridge their own enjoyments.\n\nSuppose even that they pursue the lessons of the Scotch philosopher\nto better purpose; and without any emotion, without any impulse\nof heart, hold out a succoring hand to those who suffer. This,\nperhaps, may answer the claims of reason. But the social instinct\nwill always repel that austere morality, which would give to the\nhuman heart an unnatural insensibility, and deprive it, if I may so\nsay, of its amiable weakness. I would hardly desire to see a man\noppose a courage, too stoical, to his own miseries. The natural\ntears which he sheds in extreme affliction, are his guaranty for\nthe sympathy which he will feel for my sorrows.\n\nIt is a vile but common maxim, that two conditions are necessary\nto success in life. The one is, to have a selfish heart. The\nother, the adage of egotism, is, that to avoid suffering, we must\nstifle sensibility. I say to these heartless philosophers of the\nworld, that if the only requisite is to avoid suffering, through\ndestitution of feeling, to die is the surest method of all.[40]\n\nThe secret of happiness does not consist in avoiding all evils;\nfor in that case, we must learn to love nothing. If there be a\nlot on earth worthy of envy, it is that of a man, good and tender\nhearted, who beholds his own creation in the happiness of all\nwho surround him. Let him who would be happy, strive to encircle\nhimself with happy beings. Let the happiness of his family be the\nincessant object of his thoughts. Let him divine the sorrows and\nanticipate the wishes of his friends. Let him inspire the fidelity\nof affection in his domestics, by pledging to them a comfortable\nand pleasant old age. Let him, as far as may be, preserve the same\nservants, and give them all needed succor and counsel. In fine,\nlet the inmates and dependents of the house all respire a calm\nand regulated happiness. Let even the domestic animals know, that\nhumanity presides over their condition.\n\nEntertaining such views, it will be easy to see in what light I\ncontemplate those men who take pleasure in witnessing the combats\nof animals. What man who has a heart, can see spectacles, equally\nbarbarous and detestable, with satisfaction; such as dogs tearing\nto pieces a bull, exhausted with wounds, cocks mangling each other,\nthe encounter of brutal boxers, or of bad boys in the streets,\nencouraged to the diabolical sport of fighting? These are the true\nschools of cowardly and savage ferocity, and not of manly courage,\nas too many have supposed.[41] But it is not my purpose to draw a\npainting in detail of the abominations of cruelty, or the pleasures\nof beneficence, and I resume my rapid and desultory reflections.\n\nTo preserve the sentiments of beneficence and sensibility, let\nus avoid the pride which mars them. Beneficence in one respect\nresembles love. Like that, it courts concealment and the shade.\n\nThe most useful direction we can give to beneficence is, to\nmultiply its gifts as widely as possible. Let us avoid imitating\nthose men who are always fearful of being deceived by those who\nsolicit their pity. In an uncertainty whether or not you ought to\nextend succor, grant it. It can only expose you to the error that\nis least subject to repentance.[42]\n\nOffer useful counsels and indulgent consolations. Save, from\ndespair, the unfortunate victim, who groans under the remorse of\nan unpremeditated fault. Unite him again to society by those cords\nwhich his imprudence has broken. Rekindle in him the love of his\nkind, by saying to him, \u2018though you may not recover innocence,\nrepentance can at least restore your virtue.\u2019\n\nIf we have access to the opulent and powerful, we have an\nhonorable, but difficult task to fulfil. To assume the often\nthankless office of soliciting frequent favors for friends,\nwithout losing the consideration necessary to success, requires\npeculiar tact, discernment and dignity.--Above all, it requires\ndisinterested zeal. In attempting this delicate duty in the form of\nletters, we may soon dissipate our slender fund of credit. Letters\nof recommendation resemble a paper currency. They are redeemed in\nspecie so long as they are issued discreetly, and in small amounts,\nbut which become worse than blank paper, as soon as we multiply\nthem too far.[43]\n\nSuch is the intrinsic attraction of beneficence, that even if we\nrefuse to practise it, we still love whatever retraces its image.\nA romance affects us. Pathetic scenes soften our hearts at the\ntheatre. In thus embracing the shadow, we pay a sublime testimonial\nto the substance.\n\nThe example of beneficence so readily finds its way to every heart,\nthat we are affected even in thinking of those who practise it.\nThe coldest hearts pay a tribute of veneration to those women,\nwho, in consecrating themselves to the service of the poor and the\nsick, encounter extreme fatigue, disgust, and often abuse from\nthe wretched objects themselves, in the squalidness and filth of\nprisons and hospitals. How beautiful to learn to put forth patience\nto mitigate the maladies of the body, and hope, to soothe those of\nthe mind![44] Ye, who practise virtues thus touching and sublime,\nmay well hope the highest recompenses of heaven. Such alone are\nworthy of your pure spirits. Ye seem to have passed in light across\nour dark sphere, only to fulfil a transient and celestial mission,\nto return again to your country.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XIX.\n\nTHE PLEASURES OF THE UNDERSTANDING.\n\n\nIn the savage man the intellectual faculties sleep. As soon as\nhis appetites are satisfied, he sees neither pleasures to desire,\nnor pains to fear. He lies down and sleeps again. This negative\nhappiness would bring desolation to the heart of a civilized man.\nAll his faculties have commenced their development. He experiences\na new craving, which occupations, grave or futile, but rapidly\nchanged and renewed, can alone appease. If there occur between\nthem intervals which can be filled neither by remembrances, nor by\nnecessary repose, lassitude and ennui intervene, and measure for\nhim the length of these chasms in life by sadness.\n\nThe next enemy to happiness, after vice, is ennui. Some escape it\nwithout much seeming calculation. My neighbor every morning turns\nover twenty gazettes, the state articles of which are copied the\none from the other. Economising the pleasure of this reading, and\ngravely reposing in the intervals, he communicates, sometimes with\nan oracular tone, sometimes with a modest reserve, his reflections\nto those who surround him; and, at length, leaves the reading room\nwith the importance of one who feels that he has discharged a debt\nto society.\n\nIn public places, it is not the spectacles, but the emotions of the\ncommon people who behold them, that are worthy of contemplation. In\nthe murder of a poor tragedy by poorer actors, what transports from\nthis enthusiastic mass of the audience when a blow of the poniard,\npreceded by a pompous maxim, lays the tyrant of the piece low! What\nearnest feeling, what sincere tears do we witness! How much more\nworthy of envy these honest people who lose their enjoyment neither\nby the revolting improbability of the situations, nor by the\nabsurdity of the dialogue, nor by the mouthing of the rehearsal,\nthan those fastidious critics who exalt their intellectual pride at\nthe expense of these cheap enjoyments!\n\nFrom the moment in which a man feels sincere pleasure in\ncultivating his understanding, he may date defiance to the fear\nof the weight of time. He has the magic key which unlocks the\nexhaustless treasury of enjoyments. He lives in the age and country\nwhich he prefers. Space and time are no longer obstacles to his\nhappiness. He interrogates the wise and good of all ages and all\ncountries; and his conversations with them cease, or change object,\nas soon as he chooses. How much gratitude does he owe the author of\nnature for having impressed on genius so many different impulses!\nWith Plato, he is among the sages of Greece, hearing their lessons\nand associating his wishes with theirs for the happiness of his\nkind.[45] In the range of history, he ascends to the infancy of\nempires and time. Does he court repose? Horace bids him gather the\nroses before they fade; or Shakspeare reminds him, when illusions\nwill vanish like the baseless fabric of a vision.\n\nIf a man has powers and acquirements, it is a great evil, if he\nis disposed to fatigue others with his self-love. If we could\nnumber all the subjects of which the most accomplished scholar\nis ignorant, we should perceive that the interval between him\nand a common person is not so immense as he may imagine. Ought\nhe to be astonished if the real friends of the Muses tire of his\ndeclamations, his recitations and occupancy with himself?\n\nTo attain truth should be the real end of all study. In such\nresearches the mind kindles, as by enchantment, at every step! The\ndesire to succeed, produces that noble emotion which is always\ndeveloped by ardent zeal and pure intentions. Success, although we\nwere to think nothing of its results, inspires a kind of pleasure;\nbecause truth comports with our understanding, as brilliant and\nsoft colors agree with the eye, or pleasant sounds with the ear.\nThis enjoyment naturally associates with another still more vivid.\nThe effect of truth is universally salutary; and every instance\nin which our feeble intellect discovers some gleams, elevates\nthe spirit, and intimately penetrates it with a high degree of\nhappiness.\n\nOne of the chief advantages of study is, that it enfranchises the\nmind from those prejudices that disturb life. How many, and what\nagonizing torments have been caused by those which are associated\nwith false ideas of religion.[46] After those great calamities in\nthe dark ages which destroyed the traces of the sciences and arts,\nmen, pursued by terror, seemed to imagine that they constantly\nsaw malevolent spirits flying among the clouds or wandering in\nthe depth of woods. The sound of strong wind and thunder came to\ntheir ear as the voice of infernal divinities; and, prostrate\nwith terror, they sought to appease their angry gods by bloody\nsacrifices. In process of time, a small number of men, enlightened\nby observation, dared to raise the veil by degrees, and succeeded\nin dissipating these terrors by tracing the seeming prodigies to\nsome of the simplest laws of physics. The phantoms of superstition\nvanished, and, in the light of reason, revealed a just and\nbeneficent Divinity presiding over obedient nature.\n\nWe think, in our pride, that an immense interval separates us from\nthose times of disaster, ignorance and alarm. How many of our\nkind, unhappy by their intellectual weakness, still tremble before\nthe jealous and implacable god of their imaginations, who enjoins\nhatred and wrath; and punishes even the errors of opinion by the\nmost horrible torments. The man who is exempt from prejudices is\nalone capable of prostrating himself before the Divinity from a\nfeeling of love, and whose prayer, alike confident and resigned, is\naddressed to his noble attributes of power, justice and clemency.\n\nThere are other errors which study dispels. The student who is\ncharmed with communion with the muses, does not consume his best\nyears in gloomy intrigues; nor do you meet him pressing forward\nin the path which ambition has traced. The Greeks, fertile in\nsignificant allegories, supposed the same divinity to preside over\nthe sciences and wisdom.\n\nThe habit of living in converse with the noblest works of mind and\nart, produces elevation of soul; and he who has an elevated mind\nmust be intrinsically good and happy. Exempt from the weaknesses\nof vanity, free from the tumultuous passions, he cultivates the\nnoble and generous virtues for the pleasure of practising them.\nDisdaining a mass of objects of desire which disturb the vulgar, he\noffers a small mark to misery. Should adversity strike him, he has\nresources so much the more sure, as he finds them in himself.\n\nNo one can ever taste the full charm of letters and the arts,\nexcept in the bosom of retirement. If he reads and meditates only\nfor the pursuit of fame, amusements change to labors. If we propose\nto enter the lists, outstrip rivals, and direct a party, we are\nsoon agitated with little passions, but great inquietudes. Heaven,\nsternly decreeing that no earthly felicity shall be unalloyed, has\nplaced a thirst for celebrity as a drawback upon the love of study.\n\nBut ought the ardor to render immortal services--ought the noble\nambition to be useful, to be stifled? Are not these the source\nof pleasures as pure as they are ravishing? I contemplate an\nimmense and indestructible republic, composed of all those men\nwho devote themselves to the happiness of their kind. Occupied\nwithout relaxation or abatement in continuing the works which their\npredecessors have begun, they bequeath to their successors the\ncare of pursuing and crowning their labors. Men of genius are the\nchiefs of this republic. As they have talents which separate them\nfrom the rest of the human race; they have also pleasures reserved\nfor themselves alone. What a sublime sentiment must have elevated\nthe spirit of Newton when a part of the mysterious laws of the\nuniverse first dawned on his mind! A glow still more delightful\nmust have pervaded the bosom of Fenelon when meditating the most\nbeautiful lessons which wisdom ever announced to the powerful and\nthe rulers of the people. To these privileged beings it belongs, to\ngive a powerful impulse to minds, and to trace a new path for the\ngenerations to come.\n\nI shall have attained my humble ambition if, docile to the voice\nof the wise, I shall be able, in any degree, to indicate the way\nin which these lessons may be put in practice. I shall thus have\ncontributed my aid to dissipate the night of prejudice and vice.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XX.\n\nTHE PLEASURES OF THE IMAGINATION.\n\n\nIf these words denote pleasures which have no reality, let us\nno longer use them.[47] The person who, during the twelve hours\nof every day that he passed in sleep, believed himself clothed\nwith royal authority, shared a lot exactly similar to the king\nwho, dreaming through the same number of hours, imagined that he\nsuffered cold and hunger, and asked the pity of the peasants in the\nstreets.\n\nAll our pleasures are fugitive, and they are all real. That\nwonderful faculty, the imagination, awakens past pleasures, charms\nthe instant that is flowing, and either veils the future, or\nembellishes it in the radiance of hope.\n\nLet us banish that vulgar prejudice which represents reason and\nimagination as two enemies which cannot co\u00ebxist. The severest\nreason ought to disdain no easy and pure pleasures. The happy\npaintings even of a dream bring joy, until their rainbow hues melt\naway. The dreams of the imagination have greatly the advantage over\nthose of sleep. Our will gives them birth. We prolong, dissipate\nand renew them at pleasure.[48] All, who have learned to multiply\nthese happy moments, know, at the same time, how to enjoy these\nagreeable visions, and paint with enchantment those dreamy hours\nwhich they owe to the effervescence of a gay imagination.\n\nThere are situations in which reason has no better counsel to give\nus than to yield ourselves up to those illusions which mingle\npleasures with our sufferings. I knew a worthy, but unfortunate\nman, who passed twenty months in prison. He informed me that,\nevery night, he had a dream, in which he imagined that his wife\nand children visited him and restored him to liberty. This dream\nleft a remembrance so profound, an emotion so delightful, that\nhe determined to attempt to renew it by day. When evening came,\nexciting his imagination to its most vigorous action, he endeavored\nto persuade himself that the moment of the reunion was come. He\nrepresented to himself the transport of his wife and the caresses\nof his children; and he allowed no thought but these delightful\nvisions to occupy his mind until the moment when sleep once\nmore wrapped him in forgetfulness. The habit of concentrating\nhis imagination for this result, he assured me, finally rendered\nthese illusions incredibly vivid and real. He expected night with\nimpatience; and the certainty that the close of day would bring\nsome happy moments, threw over the tedious hours an emotion which\nmitigated his sufferings.\n\nThese charming illusions, in misfortune, resemble those brilliant\nboreal lights which, in the midst of a night that lasts for weeks,\npresent the image of dawn during the dreary winters of the polar\ncircle. An excitable and vivid faculty, which deceives misfortune,\nought to embellish happiness. To the pleasant things we possess,\nit adds those we desire. By its magic, we renew the hours of which\nthe memory is dear. We taste the pleasures which a distant future\npromises; and see, at least, the fleeting shadow of those which are\npassing away.\n\nA gloomy philosopher has told us, that such illusions are the\neffect of a transient insanity. It seems to me that insane thoughts\nare those which create ennui; and that reasonable ideas are those\nwhich throw innocent charms over life. If you reject these views,\nbe persuaded, at least, not to adopt a false and gloomy wisdom.\nYou ought rather to prefer the conviction that everything below\nis folly.[50] But still, I can distinguish gay follies, frightful\nfollies, and amiable follies; and I easily discover that there is a\nchoice among them.\n\nWhy should the morose being who perceives only bad people on the\nearth, and only miseries in the future, blame him who cradles\nflattering hopes, always springing up anew, for allowing himself\nto be beguiled by the illusions of his imagination? Both deceive\nthemselves. But the one cherishes a mistake which brings hatred and\nsuffering, and the other lives on gaily in his illusions.\n\nWisdom does not disdain a faculty merely for being brilliant; and,\nto taste all the pleasures of imagination, it is indispensable that\nreason should be much exercised.\n\nImagination resembles the magician of an oriental romance who\ntransports his favorite hero to scenes of enchantment, to try him\nwith pleasures; and then delivers him over to a hostile magician,\nwho multiplies peril and misery around him. This creative faculty,\nin its perversion, is as fertile to invent torments as, in its\nmore propitious moods, to bring forth pleasures. If once we resign\nourselves to its gloomy caprices, it conjures up the terror of a\nthousand unreal evils. Reason cannot always follow its meteor path;\nbut ought, at least, to point out the course in which happiness\ninvites it to walk.\n\nThe aid of reason is still more necessary at the moment when the\nchimeras of imagination disappear. It is an afflicting moment.\nReason should prepare us to meet it. Every man, with an elevated\nmind and a good heart, has delighted to imagine himself far away\nfrom the stupid and wicked; in a smiling country, separated from\nthe rest of the world, and alone with a few friends. Suppose\nthis dream realized; I am aware that, tomorrow, the peaceful\nexile might be indulging regrets for the place he had left; and\nforming plans to escape from the ennui of the new country. Since\nwe change our destiny in these respects, without altering our\ninstinctive desire of change, let us study the art of softening\nthe pains of our actual condition; and let us learn to extract all\npossible advantages from it by imparting to it, if nothing more,\nthe embellishment created by the happy anticipations of a fertile\nimagination.\n\nOught we to indulge regrets because these paintings of the\nimagination so rapidly disappear. I have seen the rich and the\ngreat stripped, in a moment, of their fortune and power; and shall\nI afflict myself because my dream has vanished? These unfortunate\npeople lost all that was dear to them, forever. For me, I can renew\nthese pleasures of imagination at my will.\n\nFar from sacrificing any of our faculties, let us exercise them\nall; and let them mutually conduce to our happiness. As we advance\nin life, our reason should grow to the calm of mature age. But let\nthe imagination and the heart still preserve scintillations of the\nfire of youth.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XXI.\n\nMELANCHOLY.\n\n\nThere is no pleasure of earth but, as soon as it becomes vivid,\nhas a tendency to tinge itself with melancholy. The birth of an\ninfant, the convalescence of a father, the return of a friend who\nhas been long absent, fill the eyes with tears. Nature has thus\nchosen to mingle the colors of joy and sadness. Having destined us\nto experience each of the emotions in turn, she has ordained that\nthe shades of transition should melt into each other.[51]\n\nThe dearest remembrances are those which are accompanied by\ntenderness of heart. The sports of infancy, the first loves, the\nperils we have forever escaped, and the faults we have learned to\nrepair, are of the number. Whoever will recollect the happiest\nmoments of his life, will find them to have produced this emotion.\n\nBut there are two kinds of melancholy; or rather, we must not\nconfound melancholy with gloom. Will the slight tenderness of\nsorrow which imparts a new charm to the fugitive pleasures of\nexistence be inspired by those gloomy books which this age has\nattempted to bring into fashion; by those terrific and wild\ndreams in which hideous personages enact revolting scenes? Modern\nimagination has painted melancholy a tall and unearthly spectre\nenveloped in a winding sheet. The real traits of her countenance\nare those of innocence occupied in pleasant revery; and at the same\ntime that tears are in her eyes, a smile dwells on her lips.\n\nIt is the resort of a sterile imagination and a cold heart, to\ninvest even the tomb with borrowed ideas of darkness; to wait for\nnight in which to visit it; and to torment the fancy to people it\nwith sinister phantoms. Real sensibility would not require such an\neffort to be awakened. It fills my mind with a pleasing sadness to\nwander in the church-yard, under the melancholy radiance of the\nmoon, among monuments of white marble, and hear the night breeze\nsigh among the weeping willows. I am deeply affected with, here\nand there, a touching inscription.[52] I remember one in which a\nfather says, that he has had five children, and that here sleeps\nthe last that remained to him for consolation. In another, a father\nand mother announce that their daughter died at seventeen, a victim\nof their weak indulgence, and of the extravagant modes of the\ntime. This sojourn of repose, these words written in the abodes\nof silence, which inspire tenderness for those that are no more,\nand those whose treasured affection still remembers them, always\npenetrate the soul with an emotion not without its charms. In the\nview of tombs, we immediately direct our thoughts to an internal\nsurvey of ourselves. I mark out my place among the peaceful\nmansions. I imagine the vernal grass and flowers reviving over my\nplace of rest. My imagination transports me to the days which I\nshall not see, and sounds for me the soothing dirge of the adieus\nof friendship pronounced over the spot where I am laid.[53]\n\nI generally carry from my sojourn in these our last mansions,\none painful sentiment. I remark that many tombs are raised by\nparents for their children; by husbands for their wives; by widows\nfor their husbands. I observe that there are but few erected by\nchildren for their fathers. Perhaps it is right that love should\nascend in that scale, rather than descend in the other.\n\nOccasional visits to ruins and tombs inspire salutary melancholy.\nBut the habit of frequently contemplating these lugubrious objects\nis dangerous. It blunts sensibility and creates the necessity of\nalways requiring strong emotions. It nourishes in the soul sombre\nideas which do not associate with happiness. Without doubt, there\nare those who are so unhappy as to long for the repose of the\ngrave; who find solace in these gloomy spectacles. Young, after\nhaving lost his only daughter, after having in vain solicited a\nlittle consecrated earth to cover the remains of the youthful\nvictim; after being reduced to the necessity of interring the loved\none with his own hands, might be tempted to fly his kind and love\nonly night, solitude and tombs. There have been men, condemned by\nthe award of nature, to such reverses as nourish an incurable and\nperpetual melancholy. Their frigid imitators, without their reason\nand profound feeling, in wishing to render themselves singular,\nbecome tiresome and ridiculous in their melancholy.\n\nWriters of the most splendid genius of the age have consecrated\ntheir talents to celebrate melancholy; not that melancholy which\nhas a smile of profound sensibility, but that which has been\ncradled in tombs and which holds out to us the full draught\nof sadness. There is something in these heart-rending scenes,\nthese lugubrious spectacles, which the age seeks with avidity.\nA writer whose talent tends to render his errors seducing, has\ntaken pleasure in viewing the christian religion as opening an\ninexhaustible source of melancholy. It seems to exalt his mind,\nmost of all, when it presents itself to him under a funereal aspect.\n\nHe paints religion as born in the forests of Horeb and Sinai,\nforever surrounded with a formidable gloom; and offering to our\nadorations a God who died for men. He describes the invasion of\nthe barbarians, the persecutions of the first believers, cloisters\narising from deep and dark groves, and melancholy continually\nreceiving new accessions from the austere rules imposed upon the\npious inmates.\n\n\u2018There,\u2019 said he, \u2018the tenants of these religious seclusions\ndug their own tombs, by the light of the moon, in the cemeteries\nof their own cloisters. Their couch was a coffin. Some of them\noccasionally wandered away to sojourn among the ruins of Memphis\nand Babylon, striking the chords of the harp of David, surrounded\nby beasts of prey. Some condemned themselves to perpetual silence.\nOthers sung a continual hymn, echoing the sighs of Job, the\nlamentations of Jeremiah, or the penitential songs of the prophet\nking. Their monasteries were built on sites the most savage, on the\nsummits of Lebanon, in the deep forests of Gaul, or on the crags of\nthe British shores. How sad the knell of the religious bells, heard\nat the noon of night, must have sounded when calling the vestals\nto their vigils and prayers! The sounds, as they swelled and died\naway, mingled the last strains of the hymns with the distant\ndashing of the waves. How profound must have been the meditations\nof the solitary who, from his grated window, indulged in revery, as\nhis eye wandered over the illimitable sea, perhaps agitated with\na tempest! What a contrast between the fury of the waves and the\ncalm of his retreat! The expiring cries of men are heard as they\ndash upon the rocks at the foot of the asylum of peace. Infinity\nstretches out on one side of their cell; and on the other the\nslab of a tomb alone separates between eternity and life. All the\ndifferent forms of misfortune, remembrance, manners, and the scenes\nof nature concurred to render the christian religion the genius of\nmelancholy.\u2019[53a]\n\nCan it be thought, for a moment, possible that sighs without\nend, the love of deserts and the hope of the tomb are all the\nconsolations that this divine religion is calculated to bring to\nthe heart of man? Such an error could only have had its origin in\nan unregulated imagination. The christian religion, though pensive\nand serious, is not sad. Less brilliant, less imaginative than\npaganism, less friendly to pleasure, she is far more favorable to\nhappiness.\n\nMy opinion in regard to the legitimate tendency of religion, is not\nonly different but directly opposite. A pure religion must produce\ntranquillity, confidence and joy. It is departure from religious\nviews which are true and just, that is followed by a vague sadness,\ngloom and despondency.\n\nThese funereal and yet eloquent paintings, traced with the\nenthusiasm of melancholy, must have had the effect to increase\nthe number of men of atrabilious temperament, weary of the\nworld, and tired of themselves. Were it true that the christian\nreligion inspired an insatiate craving for funereal reveries,\nfar from considering it as I do, divine, I should estimate it\nanti-social.--The true friends of the christian religion always\npaint it as it is, more powerful than even human misery; giving\nclothing to the naked, bread to the hungry, an asylum to the sick,\na peaceful home to the returning prodigal, and a mother to the\norphan; wiping away the tears of innocence with a celestial hand,\nand filling the eyes of the culpable and contrite with tears of\nconsolation. Let pious thankfulness and a calm courage, which even\ndeath cannot shake, environ its modest heroes. Let its martyrs be\nthose of charity and toleration;--the protestant opening an asylum\nto catholic, falling under the fanatical fury of his brethren; and\nwhen bloody and impious mandates order the massacre of protestants,\nthe catholic sheltering them in his mansion. Such was the spirit\nof Erasmus; such, of the divine Fenelon; such, of William Penn, and\na few tolerant lights that have gleamed through ages of persecution\nand darkness. Such are the men whose disciples we desire to\nmultiply. Let us cease to incorporate melancholy errors and gloomy\nfollies with the religion of peace, confidence and hope. Eloquence\nwas imparted for a nobler use.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XXII.\n\nRELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS.\n\n\nThe philosophy of happiness must find its ultimate requisite in the\nhopes of religion. Man must be persuaded that his present life has\nrelation to a never ending future, and that an eternal providence\nwatches over the universe, before he will abandon himself with a\ntranquil confidence to those irresistible laws by which he is borne\nalong. He then marches towards the future, as he would confidently\nfollow a guide of tried prudence and fidelity in a dark path.[54]\n\nIn the fever and tumult of worldly pleasures and pursuits, the\nvoice of wisdom has little chance to be heard, and it seems\nnecessary that misfortune should have forced the mind in upon\nitself, before we become inclined to find resources in religion.\nThen we invoke this sublime and consoling power, and like the\nfriend that avoids our prosperity and our festivals, but returns\nto cheer our misfortunes, this celestial friend is at hand to\noffer her sustaining succor. We may class all those pleasures as\nnoxious, which will not associate with this august visitant. Even\nin our periods of happiness, if we pause for the reflection of\na moment, we find the need of immortality. All the generous and\ntender affections acquire a new charm in alliance with religious\nideas, in the same manner as objects beautiful in themselves,\nreceive a new lustre when a pure light is thrown upon them. Filial\npiety becomes more touching in those children who pray with\nfervor for the preservation of the life of a mother. Let a pious\ncourage guide the sister of charity, and she becomes the angel\nof consolation, as she visits the abodes of misery. Even virtue\nitself does not receive its celestial impress, except in alliance\nwith religious sentiments. A few of the higher philosophers among\nthe great ancients, and Fenelon, Newton, Milton and a few other\nmen of immortal name, saw the divinity as He is, and contemplated\nthe perfect model of his infinite perfections. Their efforts\ntended to co\u00f6perate with the divine views of order and harmony, in\nconstantly directing human actions and thoughts towards good. The\nbeautiful system of the gospel has the same simplicity of object;\nand its tendency to honor and meliorate humanity is directed by\nthe highest wisdom. Sentiments which give to all our faculties a\ndirection, fertilize genius as well as virtue. High models, in any\nwalk of mind, will never be produced in a world whose inhabitants\nbelieve in nothing but matter, fortuitous combinations, and the\nannihilation of our being. Apostles of atheism! your dreary creed\nthrows an impenetrable gloom upon the universe, and dries the\nsource of all high thoughts. The advocates of these views vaunt\nthe necessity of proclaiming the truth. I, too, am the fearless\nadvocate of the truth, and have no dread of its results. But could\nI be persuaded, that religious hopes were unfounded, I should be\ntempted to renounce my confidence in truth itself; and no longer\nto inculcate the necessity of loving and seeking to propagate it.\nIt is by the light of this divine torch, that real sages have\ndesired to investigate religion. Were it possible that the elevated\nand consoling ideas, which religion offers, could be baseless and\nabsurd chimeras, error and truth would be so confounded, that\nthere would no longer remain any discriminating sign by which to\ndistinguish the one from the other. Atheists boast that they are\nthe only frank and hardy antagonists of superstition. They are its\nmost effectual allies. The superstitious have brought forth the\natheists, and the atheists have re-produced the superstitious;\nas, in revolutions, resistance produces fury, and that multiplies\nresistance.\n\nI have known excellent men, apparently earnest and docile inquirers\nfor truth, who have desired in vain to establish in their mind\nthese consoling convictions.--Their understanding refused to\nrespond to the wish of their hearts.\n\nWhy can I not impart this happy conviction to their understanding?\nMy subject precludes reasoning, and I only know arguments that\nare very simple; but I think with Bacon, that it needs quite as\nmuch credulity to adopt the opinion of atheists, as to yield\nfaith to all the reveries of the Talmud or the Koran. The more\nprofoundly I attempt to investigate the doctrines of infidelity,\nand consider everything that surrounds me, as resulting from the\ncombinations of chance, the play of atoms, the efforts of brute\nmatter, the more my inquiries are involved in darkness. I strive\nin vain to give to any hypothesis of atheism the honest semblance\nof probability. Matter cannot reflect upon the order which its\ndifferent parts require. Neither can those parts interchange reason\nand discussion. Neither an atom, nor a globe can say to others of\ntheir class, \u2018such are the courses in which we must move.\u2019 Let us\nsimplify difficulties, as much as possible, and admit that matter\nhas always existed; let us even suppose motion essential to it; a\nsupreme intelligence is none the less necessary to the harmony of\nthe universe. Without a governor of worlds, I can only conceive of\nnihility or chaos.\n\nFrom the sublimest of all thoughts, there is a God, flow all\nthe truths which my heart desires. The beautiful superstructure\nof Christianity results, as a corollary, or ultimate inference,\nfrom this consoling axiom. The system which rejects the soul\u2019s\nimmortality, is equally absurd with that of atheism. Of the\ndifferent arguments against the being of a God, the most striking\none is that which is drawn from the evils which prevail on the\nearth. The first thought of every man of sensibility, is, that\nhad he the power to make a world, he would banish misery from it,\nand so arrange the order of things, as that existence should be,\nto all conscious beings, a succession of moments, each marked by\nhappiness. But infirmities, vices, misery, sorrow and death pursue\nus. How reconcile the misery of the creation with the power and\nbeneficence of the Creator? How resolve this strange problem? How\nexplain this revolting contradiction? Immortality is the only\nsolution of the enigma of life.[55]\n\nA whimsical combination of deism and materialism forms, at present,\nthe most widely diffused system among the unbelieving. They have\nimagined a God possessing only physical power, and contemplating\nthe movement of his innumerable worlds, alike indifferent to crime\nand virtue. He beholds with the same carelessness the generations\nthat pass, and those that succeed; and sees deliverers and tyrants\nalike confounded in their fall.--Admit the truth of such dogmas,\nand the conceptions of a religious man would possess more expansion\nand sublimity than the views of the Eternal. Socrates, without\nthe illumination of the gospel, could have taught them better.\nSurrounded by his weeping disciples, he points them beyond the tomb\nto the places where the sage at last respires freely; and where the\nmisfortunes and inequalities of earth are redressed. In painting\nthese illusions of hope, if they are vain, the sage has conceived\nin his dreams an equity superior to that of the infinite Being. Let\nus dare to maintain that the feeble children of clay have a right\nto entertain ideas of order and desert, more just than those of the\nCreator, or admit that the heart, made capable of the desire of\nanother life, is destined to enjoy it.\n\nThe destiny of all the inferior orders that surround us, appears\nto terminate upon the earth. Ours alone is evidently not\naccomplished here. The animals, exempt from vice, incapable of\nvirtue, experience, in ceasing to live, neither hopes nor regrets.\nThey die without the foresight of death. Man, in the course of an\nagitated life, degrades himself by follies and vices, or honors\nhimself by generous and useful actions. Remembrances, loves, ties,\nin countless forms, twine about his heart. He is torn, in agony,\nfrom beings for whom he has commenced an affection that he feels\nmight be eternal. Persecuted for his virtue, proscribed for his\nwisdom and courage, calumniated for his most conscientious acts, he\nturns to heaven a fixed look of confidence and hope. Has he nothing\nto perform beyond death? Has the author of nature forgotten his\njustice, only in completing his most perfect work?\n\nOur immortality is a necessary consequence of the existence of\nGod. Let us not wander astray in vain discussions, which, with\nour present faculties, we can never master--such as relate to the\nnature of the soul. My hopes, my convictions, rest not upon a\ncloudy, metaphysical argument. Neither can the proud treatise of\na sophist weaken, nor the puerile dialectics of a pedant increase\nit. It is enough for me that there is a God. Virtue in misfortune\nmust have hopes which do not terminate with the tomb. The sublime\ninculcation of Socrates was, \u2018preserve confidence in death.\u2019 But\nrecompense in another existence supposes merit; and merit requires\nliberty.\n\nIs man free? We can reduce this question which has been so much\nvexed, and so often obscured, to terms of entire simplicity. It\nhas been most forcibly presented by Hobbes, the vile apostle\nat once of atheism and despotism, who seems to have striven to\nunite the most pernicious doctrines with an example, which merits\nexecration. \u2018Two objects,\u2019 he remarks, \u2018attract us in opposite\ndirections. As long as they produce impressions nearly equal, our\nmind, in a state of uncertainty, vacillates from the one to the\nother; and we believe, that we are deliberating. Finally, one of\nthe objects strikes us with a stronger impression than the other.\nWe are drawn towards it; and we believe that it is because we will\nit.--Thus, man, always passive, yields to the strongest and most\nvivid sensation. Free actions would be an effect without a cause.\u2019\nAdmirable reasoning! What other freedom could I wish, than to\nprefer what seems to me the most desirable? Let the disciples of\nHobbes instruct me how they would choose that man should determine,\nin order to be conscious of liberty? Would they wish him to choose\nthe object that is repugnant to him? This is too evidently absurd.\nShould he vacillate in indifference between the one object and the\nother? This would be to sink into an existence of perfect apathy,\nwithout reason or will. Man has all the liberty, of which such a\nbeing is capable--all, in fact, which he could desire.\n\nHow puerile are these metaphysical subtleties, when employed upon\nmoral truths![56] What a monster would man become on the system\nof the fatalists! What is that system worth, the consequences of\nwhich cannot be admitted? If we act under the inevitable empire\nof fatalism, why is he who proclaims this doctrine, indignant\nat the thought of crime? Does he contemplate Socrates and his\nexecutioners with the same approbation?--Will he regard with the\nsame feeling Antoninus dictating pious lessons to his son, and Nero\nassassinating his mother? Will he estimate as alike meritorious\na persecuted Christian praying for his enemies, and the monarch\nordering the massacre of St Bartholomew? Do such contrasts offend\nus? And why? According to the system of fatalism, the good ought\nto inspire us with less interest than the wicked. A blind fatality\nawards to the virtuous that pure pleasure, that is inseparably\nconnected with good actions. They receive a high reward without any\nmerit; while the others are a prey to remorse, and the incessant\nobject of public hatred and abhorrence. If they are innocent, as\non the principles of fatalism they must be, how ought we to mourn\nover them, and pity them! What purpose can these doctrines serve?\nHe who advocates them, is conscious of impulses to do good, and\ndeliberates upon alternatives in the courses which honor and duty\ncall him to pursue. His principles, then, are contradicted by the\nvoice of his own heart. When he has committed a fault, it declares\nto him that he might have chosen a contrary part.--When he has done\na virtuous action, it inspires emotions of joy, which render him\nconscious that he is a free agent. This voice within is anterior\nto all reasoning, and as incapable of being invalidated as any\nother consciousness. Inexhaustible emotions of satisfaction spring\nfrom religious hopes. Reanimated by them, I no longer see tears\nwithout consolation, nor fear an eternal adieu.--The tomb, though a\nfearful, is but a frail barrier, which separates us from those real\njoys, of which the pleasures of a fugitive existence are but the\nshadow.\n\nNever would men have exchanged their natural convictions, their\ninternal aspirations, their instinctive hopes of immortality, for\nthe lurid and deceptive glare of infidelity, if religious views\nhad not been disfigured by being combined with the grossest errors\nand prejudices. Of these, there are two which every good man ought\nto strive to eradicate from all minds, and if it were possible, to\npurge from the earth.\n\nThe first causes us to behold in the divinity a menacing and\nimplacable judge, constantly eager to execute vengeance. Monstrous\nconception! Revolting error! Infancy and old age, the two extremes\nof earthly existence, which from their feebleness, call for our\nmost soothing cares, are those most persecuted with this vile\nand fierce prejudice. A cruel superstition has selected these\nterrific ideas, these horrible images, with which to besiege the\nbed of death, to light up the scene of agony--of parting and\ntrembling apprehensions--with the flames of perdition. My bosom\nswells with mingled emotions, when I see any one attempting to\ndarken the feeble and docile reason of a child with these sinister\nviews. Pursued even in his dreams by these terrible menaces,\nbefore he knows the meaning of crime, he has already felt its\ntorments. Astonishing infatuation! It is in this aspect that gloomy\nreligionists have presented the compassionate and sustaining hope\nof the gospel. Instead of inspiring sweet and consoling ideas, they\nhave succeeded in filling innocence with remorse.\n\nThe other prejudice is intolerance, or that spirit which causes\nus to view all persons guilty, whose faith is different from\nours. While religion enjoins it upon us to cover the faults of\nour kind with a veil of indulgence, intolerance teaches us to\ntransform their opinions into crimes. Religion rears asylums for\nthe unfortunate.--Intolerance prepares scaffolds for all whom\nshe chooses to denominate heretics. The one invokes ministers of\ncharity, and the other, executioners. The one wipes away tears, and\nthe other sheds blood.\n\nIntolerance without power is simply ridiculous; but becomes most\nodious when armed with authority. The cry of humanity is \u2018Peace\nwith all men.\u2019 If any were excepted, it should be the intolerant.\nEven they merit no severer punishment, than the inflictions of\ntheir own fury. They may attain to deliverance from remorse in\ntheir confident delirium, and may count their crimes as virtues,\nthrough the influence of self-blindness. But this strange obliquity\nof the understanding, this horrible intoxication, repels happiness.\nJoy and peace must fly the soul, of which this spirit has taken\npossession.\n\nIn another life, the measure of our felicity in the mansions of the\njust, will be the happiness we have created for the beings around\nus in this fleeting existence. A religious man constantly strives\nto render this, our terrestrial sojourn, more like the abode\ntowards which his thoughts are elevated. His constant occupation\nis to mitigate suffering, banish prejudice and hatred, and calm\nthe fury of party. All his relations are those of peace and love.\nIntolerant men! Who, of your number, will hope to hear it said of\nhim in the retribution of the just, \u2018much has been forgiven him,\nbecause he has loved much?\u2019\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XXIII.\n\nOF THE RAPIDITY OF LIFE.\n\n\nIn considering the different ages of life, the first sentiment I\nfeel, is gratitude for the variety of pleasures, destined for us by\nnature. Thrice happy for us, if we knew how to taste the charms of\nall the situations through which we pass! Instead of this, we first\nregret infancy, then youth, then mature age. The happy period is\nalways that which is no more.\n\nIt is a great folly to sadden the present, in looking back upon the\npast, as though it had been darkened by no shadow of a cloud. The\nsorrows which nature sends us in infancy, resemble spring showers,\nthe traces of which are effaced by a passing breeze. The pains and\nalarms of each age have been chiefly the work of men. Who cannot\nremember the violent palpitations which he felt, when, exposed to\nthe searching eye of his companions, he went forward to excuse\nhis not having prepared his task, his translation or theme, at\nschool? I have seen situations more perilous, since that time, but\nno misfortunes have awakened more bitterness, than the preference\ngranted by the professor to the theme of another over mine. The\nbeautiful age, for a frivolous being, is youth; for the ambitious,\nmaturity; for the recluse, old age; for a reasonable man, each age:\nfor heaven has reserved peculiar pleasures for each.\n\nThe second sentiment I experience, in contemplating life, is,\nregret to see the moments so rapidly gliding away. Time flies, and\ndays and years steal away as rapidly as hours. Still, some complain\nof the burden of time, and endure cruel suffering from not knowing\nhow to employ it.\n\nTo prolong my days, I will neither ask the elixir of life from\nalchymists, nor precepts from physicians. A severe regimen tends to\nabridge life. Multiplied privations give a sadness to the spirit,\nmore noxious than the prescribed remedies are salutary. Besides,\nwhat is physical without moral life; that is to say, improvement\nand enjoyment? Physicians vaunt the miracles of abstinence and\na careful regimen in the case of Cornaro, the Venetian, who was\nborn dying, and yet spun out the thread of life with so much care\nthat he vegetated a century. To attain this result, he weighed his\naliment, and marked every hour of the day, with the most minute\nexactness. Bacon cites the case, but jests upon a man who believed\nhimself living, because, in fact, he was not dead.\n\nModeration, cheerfulness and the happy employment of time furnish\nthe best means of living as many days as nature permits; and the\nregimen of philosophic moralists has an effect more certain than\nthat of physicians.[57]\n\nEvery one has observed that a year in youth presents a long\nperspective; and that the further we advance in our career, the\nmore the course of time seems to accelerate. Let us strive to\ninvestigate the causes which so modify our judgments, with a view,\nif it be possible, to avoid them.\n\nThere is one inevitable cause--experience. At sixteen, what an\nillimitable prospective space is seen in the sixteen years that are\nto succeed! The termination of the latter period is lost to vision\nin the future, as the commencement of the first years are effaced\nfrom the memory of the past. But, in touching the goal which\nseemed so distant, we have discovered a scale by which the mind\u2019s\neye measures the future. Impatient youth, burning to overleap the\ninterval which separates the object from the desires, strives to\naccelerate the tardy hours. In mature age, on the contrary, seeing\nevery day bringing us nearer the termination of our career, we\nbegin to regret the want of power to arrest the march of time. Thus\nour weakness hastens the flight which we desire to delay. Let us\nbe less fearful of the uncertain future, and the hours will lose\ntheir desolating swiftness.\n\nFinally, in our youth, all objects being new, produce the vivid\nimpression of novelty. Every instant is filled with landmarks of\nmemory, because in every instant a new sensation is produced, and\na new link in the chain of the succession of ideas. As we advance\nin time, objects imperceptibly cease to excite our curiosity. We\npass by beautiful objects and striking events which once filled us\nwith transport or surprise, with a carelessness which fails to fix\nthem in our memory. We return mechanically to the occupations of\nthe preceding day, scarcely noting the transit of those monotonous\nperiods which were rendered remarkable neither by ennui nor\npleasure. Let us avoid this mental carelessness, which gives new\nspeed to the flight of time, and is so fatal to happiness. Friends\nof humanity, of literature, of the arts and true enjoyment, let us\npreserve the mind in its freshness, the imagination in its youthful\nbrilliancy. Let us thus arrest the happy moments; and let us\npreserve the enthusiasm of youth enlightened by the taste of mature\nage, for everything which merits our admiration.[58]\n\nIf we desire that our days should not be abridged, we must love\nretreat. The immediate result of this shelter is to keep off a\ncrowd of officious and indolent people. There are those who would\nnot think of taking our money, and who yet will steal hours and\ndays from us without scruple. They seem not to realize the value of\nthese fractions of time which are the material of life.\n\nBut while the idle rob us of hours, we ourselves sacrifice years.\nA great portion of our race, deafened by the clamor of the\npassions, agitated by feverish dreams, are scarcely conscious of\nexistence; and, awakening for a moment, at death, regret that they\nhave been long on the earth and yet have not lived. A few others,\nafter having been long swept onward by the torrent, taught at last\nby experience, resist, land and fix their sojourn far from the\ntumult; and, finally, begin to taste the pleasant consciousness of\nexistence. Why not prolong these final hours to the utmost? If our\npursuits interdict us from the independent command of our time, we\nmay, at least, consecrate portions of every evening to retreat, in\norder to review the past, pause on the present, and prepare for the\nfuture. Thus, making every day count in accumulating the pleasant\nstores of memory, we add it to the happy days of the past, and no\nlonger allow life to vanish like a dream.\n\nIt is, more than all, in converse with ourselves that we give a\nright direction to the mind, elevation to the soul, and gentleness\nand firmness to the character. Life is a book in which we every day\nread a page. We ought to note down every instructive incident that\npasses.\n\nThe admirable Marcus Aurelius took delight in converse with\nhimself; and learned to find enjoyment in the present by extracting\nfrom the past lessons for the future. I never fail to be affected\nwhen I read the account which he gives of all those persons whose\ncares had concurred to form his character and his manners. \u2018I\nlearned,\u2019 says he, \u2018of my grandfather Verus, to be gentle and\ncomplaisant.\n\n\u2018The reputation which my father left, and the memory of his good\nactions which has been preserved, taught me modesty. My mother\nformed me to piety, taught me to be liberal, and not even to\nmeditate, still less, to do a wrong.\n\n\u2018I owe it to my governor that I am patient of labor, indulge few\nwants, know how to work with my own hands, meddle with no business\nthat does not concern me, and give no encouragement to informers.\n\n\u2018Diognetus taught me not to be amused with frivolities, to yield\nno credit to charlatans and enchanters, and to have no faith in\nconjurations, demons and superstitions of that sort. I learned of\nhim to permit every one to speak to me with entire freedom, and to\napply myself wholly to philosophy.\n\n\u2018Rusticus made me perceive that I needed to correct my manners,\nthat I ought to avoid the pride of the sophists, and not use effort\nto inspire the people with admiration of my patience and austerity\nof life; to be always ready to pardon those who had offended me,\nand to receive them kindly whenever they were disposed to resume\ntheir former intercourse.\n\n\u2018I learned of Apollonius to be at the same time frank and firm in\nmy designs, to follow no guide but my reason, even in the smallest\nmatters, and to be always composed, even under the most acute\nsufferings. By his example I was instructed that it is possible to\nbe at once severe and gentle.\n\n\u2018Sextus taught me to govern my house as a good father, to preserve\na simple gravity without affectation, to attempt to divine and\nanticipate the wishes and necessities of my friends; to endure,\nwith calmness and patience, the ignorant and presumptuous who\nspeak without thinking what they say; and to sustain relations of\nkindness with all.\n\n\u2018I learned from Alexander, the grammarian, in disputation to use no\ninjurious words in reply to my antagonist.\n\n\u2018Fronto taught me to know that kings are surrounded by the envious,\nby knaves and hypocrites.\n\n\u2018Alexander, the Platonist, instructed me never to say or to write\nto any person interceding for my interest, \u201cI have had no time to\nattend to your affairs;\u201d nor to allege, as an excuse, \u201cI have been\noverwhelmed with business;\u201d but to be always prompt to render all\nthose good offices which the bonds of society demand.\n\n\u2018I owe to my brother Severus, the love which I have for truth and\njustice. From him I derived the desire to govern my states by equal\nlaws, and to reign in such a manner as that my subjects might\npossess perfect liberty.\n\n\u2018I thank the Divinity for having given me virtuous ancestors, a\ngood father, a good mother, a good sister, good preceptors and good\nfriends; in a word, all the good things I could have desired.\u2019[59]\n\nA crowd of useful thoughts cannot but flow from such self-converse.\nHold every day one of these solitary conversations with yourself.\nThis is the way in which to attain the highest relish of existence;\nand, if I may so say, to cast anchor in the river of life.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XXIV.\n\nON DEATH.\n\n\nIf we were to allow ourselves to express the wish that we might\nnever die, an absurd wish which, perhaps, every man has sometimes\nindulged, a moralist might say, \u2018Suppose it were granted, where\nwould be the end of dissension, hatred, revenge? Where would the\nvictim whom injustice pursues, find an asylum and repose?\u2019 To all\nthis it is sufficient to reply, that if we accuse nature for having\nsubjected us to the penalty of death, we have not less reason to\naccuse her for having often rendered death desirable, as a relief\nfrom greater evils. Instead of showing herself so niggardly in\nbestowing happy moments, why did she not spare humanity the evils\nthat render death a comparative release?\n\nThere are, as I believe, more solid reasons to justify nature\nin rendering death an inevitable allotment. When, undertaking\nto reform the universe in my day dreams, I render our earthly\nexistence eternal, I find no difficulty in imagining all the\nevils which afflict us removed. But I strain my imagination to no\npurpose to give form and reality to those pleasures which shall be\nadequate to replace those which this new order of things cannot\nadmit. Suppose that it were no longer necessary that generation\nshould succeed generation; and that death were banished from the\nearth. The same beings, without hopes or fears, would always\ncover its surface. No more loves; no more parental tenderness; no\nmore filial piety! Flattering hopes forsake the bosom along with\nenchanting remembrances. All those affections which give value to\nlife owe their existence to death.[60]\n\nOur prejudices transform death into a terrible spectre, accompanied\nby frightful dreams. The dark and anti-social doctrine, that we\nwere placed on the earth for the punishment of exile, and that\nwe ought never to intermit our contemplation of the grave, was\nimagined by hypocrites, who preached to others contempt of the\nworld, that they might appropriate it to themselves. A wise man\nsees in existence a gift which he ought not to sacrifice. In\nlearning how to live, he instructs himself how to die.\n\nWe must sometimes look Death in the face to judge how we shall be\nable to sustain his approach.[61] It is not necessary often to\nrepeat this stern examination which presents gloomy ideas, even\nto minds the most disciplined. Another manner of contemplating\nthe final scene offers all the useful results of the first, and\npresents nothing afflicting. It consists in observing the influence\nwhich death ought to exercise over life. This term, unknown, but\nalways near, should render our duties more sacred, our affections\nmore tender, our pleasures more vivid. In noting the rapidity\nof the flight of time, a wise man seizes upon those ideas which\ndisturb the hours of the multitude, to enhance the charm of his own\nthoughts. It was not without an aim that certain of the ancient\nphilosophers placed in their festal hall a death\u2019s head decked with\nroses.\n\nThose who say that death is nothing, may be thought to affect the\nsemblance of courage. They speak, in fact, only one of the simplest\ntruths. The term death is the sign of a purely negative idea; and\ndenotes an instant impossible for thought to measure. It is not yet\ndeath, or it is past; and there is no interval.\n\nWithout doubt, the circumstances which precede it are extremely\nafflicting. Sudden deaths ought to cost us fewer tears than any\nothers. Yet we hear it repeated, with a sigh, \u2018the unfortunate\nsufferer lingered but a few hours.\u2019 Was not that space sufficiently\nlong when the moments were counted by agony? Let us not tinge our\nviews by the coloring of egotism; and we shall perceive in this\nprompt departure, two motives for consolation; that the deceased,\nwhom we regret, saw not the long approach of death in advance; and,\nthat, in meeting it, he experienced a brief pang. Such an end is\nworthy of envy, and is the last benefit of heaven.\n\nSo died my father, the best of fathers, whom every one recognised\nby his force of character, his gentleness and serenity. He did\nnot dazzle, either by his vivacity of mind, or the variety of his\nacquirements. But he so said the simplest things as to render them\nthe best. During sixty-five years he shared the pains of others,\nbut never added to them. One day, having experienced unaccustomed\nfatigue, he retired early, and a few moments after, slept in death.\nSuch a death, without pain and alarm, was worthy of a life so pure\nthat, to render him happy in the life to come, it would be only\nnecessary to leave him the remembrance of what he had been and what\nhe had done upon earth.\n\nA fact recognised by numberless observing physicians is, that the\nlast agony of a good man is rarely violent. It is probable, that in\nregard to all forms of death, mankind generally entertain the most\nerroneous conceptions. The vulgar, naturally embracing ideas that\nterrify them, believe that the dissolution of our earthly being is\naccompanied by all conceivable torments. It is probable, on the\ncontrary, that, in entering upon eternal repose, we experience\nsensations analogous to those of a wearied man who feels the sweet\ninfluence of sleep stealing gently upon him.\n\nThese sensations, it is true, can be imagined to belong only to the\nlast moments. Cruel maladies may precede them. But it would seem\nthat nature invariably employs some means to mitigate the evils\nwhich she inflicts. Among mortal diseases, those which are severely\npainful are equally rapid; while those which are slow in their\nprogress are comparatively free from pain. They allow the patient\ntime to accustom himself to the idea of his departure. It is\ncommon for those who die in this way to close their career in the\nindulgence of dreamy and melancholy musings, solacing themselves\nalternately by resignation and hope.\n\nA spectacle, touching to the heart, and, unhappily, too common,\nis presented in the case of a fair and florid young woman struck\nwith a pulmonary malady. Absolute unconsciousness of danger often\naccompanies this cruel disease to the last moment. We are perfectly\naware that the patient cannot survive the coming winter. We hear\nher pantingly discuss the projects which she expects to execute\nwith her companions when health and spring shall return. The\ncontrast of her daily increasing debility with her gentle gayety,\nand of her future projects, with the rapid approach of death, makes\nthe heart bleed. Every one is pained for her but herself. The\nhectic fever imparts a kind of joyous inspiration; and nature, to\nabsolve itself for inflicting death on one so young, leads her to\nher last hour in tranquil security. Death is to her as a sleep.\n\nIt is certain that physical sufferings are not those which infuse\nthe utmost bitterness into this last cup. The gloomy thoughts with\nwhich death is invested are excited much more keenly by those\naffections which attach us to earth and our kind. We may well\nhold the understanding of those ambitious persons in disdain who\ninstruct us, that when they have finished their vast projects\ntheir days shall thenceforward glide in peace and serenity. Death\nuniformly surprises them, tormenting themselves in the pursuit of\ntheir shadows. Others, with less show of stupidity, repine because\ndeath strikes them reposing upon their pleasures. Their groans are\ncaused by having forgotten the rapidity and evanescence of their\njoys. They had not known how to give them an additional charm in\nsaying, \u2018we possess them but for a day.\u2019\n\nBut suppose we regret neither ambitious projects nor transient\npleasures, may we not wish to live longer for our children? I\nattempt not to inculcate an impracticable or exaggerated system.\nThere is a situation in which death is fearful. There is a period\nin which it would seem as if man ought not to die. It commences\nwhen one has become a parent, and terminates when his sustaining\nhand is no longer indispensable to his family.\n\nIf nature calls us to quit life before this epoch, all consolations\nresemble the remedies which palliate the pains of the dying,\nwithout possessing efficacy to remove them. Still we dare not so\noutrage nature as to believe that there can exist a situation\nin which a good man can find no alleviation for his sorrows. In\nquitting a life which he would wish to retain longer, for the\nhappiness of those most dear to him, he may derive force and\nmagnanimity from the thought that he owes it to himself to leave an\nexample of courage and decent dignity in the last act; that he may\nshow the influence of piety, resignation, the hope of a good man,\nand the discipline of that philosophy which forbids its disciple to\nstruggle against the inevitable lot.\n\nThe approach of death always brings associations of gloom when it\ncomes in advance of old age, to destroy the tender affections. In\nthe slow and natural course of years, it is an event as simple, as\nlittle to be deprecated, as the other occurrences of life. Alas!\nduring a short sojourn, we see those who were most dear continually\nfalling around us. We soon retain a less number with us than exist\nalready in another world. The family is divided. I am not surprised\nthat it becomes a matter of indifference to a wise man to remain\nwith his present friends, or go and rejoin those that are absent.\n\nAs long as our children have need of our support, we resemble a\ntraveller charged with business of extreme importance. As soon\nas these cares become useless, we resemble him who travels at\nleisure and by chance; and who takes up his lodging for the night\nwherever the setting sun surprises him. For me, I see the second\nepoch drawing near. If I reach it, I shall bless heaven for having\nawarded me a sufficient number of years, and for having diffused\nover them so few pains.\n\nLet us not charge that man with weakness who, when on the eve\nof departure for distant and untravelled countries, is perceived\nto impart the intonation and tenderness of sorrow to his adieus.\nOught we to exact more of him whom death is about to conduct to\nthat \u2018undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns?\u2019\nI would not seem to affect an austere and unnatural courage. But\nwhenever delivered from the only heart-rending agony, I will hope\nand strive to preserve sufficient tranquillity of mind to impress\nthe sentiment on those I love, that we ought, with becoming\ndignity, to submit ourselves to the immutable laws of nature; that\ncomplaint is useless, and murmuring unjust; and that it becomes us,\nwith transient but subdued emotion, to say, as we receive the final\nembrace, \u2018may we meet again!\u2019\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XXV.\n\nCONCLUSION OF \u2018DROZ SUR L\u2019ART D\u2019ETRE HEUREUX.\u2019\n\n\nI shall have attained my purpose if these sketches should produce\nany degree of conviction that man, in exercising his faculties, can\nmitigate his pains and multiply his pleasures, and, consequently,\nshould serve as the outlines of a plan for reducing the pursuit of\nhappiness to an art. I am aware that no view could be offered more\ncontrary to the prevalent opinions in society. The morose and the\nfrivolous make common cause to attack it. To them the very idea\nseems absurd; and the most indulgent among them question the good\nfaith of him who announces it.[62]\n\nTo such grave and learned authorities, and more, even to\nthe general suffrage against it, I might dare to oppose\ncounterbalancing authorities. From Socrates to Franklin, I see\nphilosophers who have been persuaded that man may be directed in\nthe art, and instructed in the science of happiness; and that his\nfaculties may be enlarged to pursue it. Who are the men that have\nentertained this persuasion? The very _elite_ of the human race.\nWas each individual of them surrounded by those happy circumstances\nwhich would naturally inspire the same philosophy? They were\npersons who had experienced all the conditions of life. As if\nnature had studied to prove, by great examples, that our happiness\ndepends upon our reason more than upon our circumstances, Epictetus\nlived in chains, and Marcus Aurelius on a throne.\n\nWe justly render homage to the Greek philosophers. Is their glory\nfounded on their physics, long since known to be full of errors,\nor their metaphysics, often puerile? Upon neither; but they have\nmerited the veneration of ages by indicating principles, the\npractice of which, would render us better and more happy.\n\nWhich of the sciences did the admirable Socrates chiefly esteem?\nThe single one which teaches us how to live as we ought. Let it\nnot be said that I substitute one science for another; and that\nSocrates taught morals, and not my pretended science of happiness.\nWith the Greeks, morals had a perfectly definite end. Their\nphilosophers held all their teaching subservient to conducting\ntheir disciples to happiness. Illustrious men! we disdain their\nmaxims, but still revere their names. What fruit have we obtained\nfrom the boasted light and improvement of the age? We speak with\nenthusiasm of those sciences which they judged frivolous; and we\ntreat as chimerical those studies which they judged alone worthy of\nhuman nature.\n\nSuppose it had been said to these philosophers, \u2018you will never\nreform the human race; and, instead of profitless dreams about\nwisdom and happiness, you ought to desist from subjects so futile,\nand consecrate your vigils to sciences more worthy to occupy your\nthoughts.\u2019 Would they not have smiled with pity upon such counsel?\nHad they deigned to reply, would they not have said, \u2018We are well\naware that we shall not purify the heart of the wicked of its\npride, envy, cupidity; but shall we derive no glory from having\nconfirmed some good men in their career? In the midst of storms\nwe felt our energies invigorated as we perceived that our spirits\nwere in accordance with theirs. However feeble may have been the\ninfluence of our writings, affront not humanity by supposing that\nours, however partial may have been their circulation, will,\nnowhere, find minds worthy to profit by them. Perhaps they will\nkindle the holy love of virtue in some of those who may read them\nin the youthful age of unsophisticated and generous resolutions.\nFew, who read, will practise our doctrine in all its extent. Almost\nevery one will be indebted to it for some solitary principles. It\nis possible we may never have numerous disciples. But we shall\nhave some in all countries and in all time. It is a truth that\nought to satisfy us, that such discussions are based neither upon\nexaggeration nor revery. The science of happiness would indeed\nbe chimerical if we expected that it would impart the same charms\nto all predicaments in which our lot might cast us. Instead of\nindulging such visionary hopes, if these discussions dissipate\nthe errors which veil the true good from our eyes, if we learn to\nbring together all the easy and innocent pleasures, and to render\nthe painful moments of life more rapid, we have been taught an art\nwhich it is possible to demonstrate and improve to an indefinite\nextent.\u2019\n\nDoes this art appear difficult? Let any one be named which it\nexacts no effort to acquire. Will it be thought that it cannot\nbecome of general utility? Will professors, of the highest\nreputation, cease to teach eloquence because they do not form\nas many orators as they have pupils? The more maturely I have\nreflected upon the art in question, the more clearly I am convinced\nthat it may be assimilated to the other arts. It differs from them\nonly in its superior importance. The interest and attention that\nall the rest merit should be measured only by their relation, more\nor less direct, to this first of all arts. To settle the utility of\nany science, law, enterprise, or action, I know no better measure\nthan to note its influence on human happiness.\n\nIf moral lessons leave but a transient influence, it may be\nattributed to two principal causes; the weakness of our nature, and\nthe contagion of example. A third belongs to those who teach us the\ndoctrine of morals, and is found in their exaggeration of their\ndoctrine. They elevate the altar of wisdom upon steep mountains;\nand discourage our first steps, by proclaiming the painful efforts\nnecessary to scale them. From the sadness of the ministers of the\nworship, it would not be inferred, that the divinity of the place\nwas liberal in dispensing pure pleasures, bright hopes, oblivion of\npain, and remembrances almost as pleasant as either.\n\nIt is a fatal error to imagine that it is useful to exaggerate\nthe doctrine of morals. To do this, fails not to excite disgust\ntowards the precepts inculcated. Men, that have been deceived\nupon these points, as soon as they judge for themselves, in their\nimpatience to shake off the yoke of prejudices, are tempted to\nreject principles the most wise with those errors by which they\nhave been misled. That we may be heard and followed, let us be\ntrue. Let us present, with force, the evils which the abuse of our\nfaculties brings upon our short career.--Let us avow with equal\nfrankness, that we commit an egregious mistake, if we refuse, or\nneglect to draw from our faculties all the advantages in our power,\nto embellish life.\n\nThe doctrine of morals is a phrase that has been often employed\nto designate the propagation of false and extravagant principles.\nFor this phrase, which is too worn out, and of equivocal import,\nsuppose we substitute a definition, which will clearly indicate\nthe end, towards which, morals ought to be directed. Morals is\nthat which teaches the art of happiness. If it be not so, the\nfoundation of ethics is a mere matter of convention, either useless\nor dangerous.\n\nMorals should be taught only as subservient to happiness. Austerity\nshould be banished equally from the manner of teaching and from\nthe matter that is taught.--They are the useful teachers, whose\ntenderness of heart impels them rather to inspire virtue than to\nenjoin it; and whose brilliant imagination enables them to offer\nwise principles under such pleasant forms as charm the mind and\nawaken curiosity. If I were to point to one of the best works on\nmorals, according to my judgment, I would name \u2018_The Vicar of\nWakefield_.\u2019 To present a family struggling with every form of\nmisfortune, and constantly opposing resignation or courage to each,\nis to offer the sublimest painting that it is possible to execute.\nThe concurrence of genius and virtue could alone have conceived the\nidea. All good men owe the tribute of gratitude and veneration to\nthe memory of the author.\n\nThe concurrent influence of public institutions and education would\nbe necessary to render the general habits conformable to happiness.\nBooks, the influence of which I certainly have not exaggerated, may\nbe useful to men, raised by the discipline of their reason above\nthe multitude. That man is happy, who knows how to add good books\nto the number of his friends, who often retires from the world\nto enjoy their peaceful and instructive conversation, and always\nbrings back serenity, courage and hope.\n\nWere the doctrine true, that it is impossible to increase the\nhappiness or diminish the evils of life, it is not perceived that\nit would not still be necessary to follow my principles. Preach\nthis discouraging doctrine to a good man, and you may afflict him,\nbut will obtain no influence over his conduct. He will always\nstrive to improve his condition, mitigate the sufferings that press\nupon him, and render men more compassionate and happy. Such noble\nefforts cannot be entirely lost. The pure intentions, the sincere\nwishes, which he forms for the good of his kind, give to his mind\na pleasant serenity. It assures his own happiness to meditate the\nmeans of increasing that of others.\n\n\n\n\nLETTER XXVI.\n\nTHE CHOICE OF A PROFESSION.\n\n\nThe considerate Knight of La Mancha would not dismiss his follower\nand friend to the government of Barataria, without a few more last\nwords, and without arming him for his high functions with a copious\nhomily of counsels and admonitions. Before I leave you to the\nstern encounter of the painful emergencies of life, to unravel its\nintricacies, and settle its innumerable perplexing and difficult\nalternatives, I do not mean to oppress your memory with the\nthousand and one particular directions, to meet every imaginable\noccurrence with the right mode of conduct. Innumerable cases of\nperplexity will be continually occurring, that can only be settled\nby extempore judgment and prudence. I shall limit my counsels to a\nsingle one among the many questions of universal application, each\none of which present a great variety of aspects and alternatives;\nquestions of difficult solution for the young; and yet on the right\ndisposal of which depend their character, success and happiness\nin life. Among the subjects to which I refer, are, the choice of\na profession--decision in regard to our plans and projects--the\nselection of our company--the dispositions with which we should\nregard the place assigned us in society--the deportment appropriate\nto gentlemen and ladies--the proper selection of books--the mode\nand place of worship, and what are the best evidences of true\nwisdom in character. The first of these is the only one upon which\nI shall offer you my remarks.\n\nIn the choice of a profession, the first point to be consulted is\nour physical and mental temperament and endowment, or aptitude.\nThat some are constituted for sedentary and inactive pursuits,\nothers to beat the anvil, follow the plough, or mount the reeling\nmast with a firm step in the uproar of a tempest; some for the\nbar, others for the pulpit, and still others to be musicians,\npainters, poets or engineers, I consider a truth so universally and\nobviously taught by observation and experience, that I shall not\ndeem it necessary to pause to prove it to such as would contest\nit. I am sufficiently informed that there are those who contend\nthat all minds are formed equal and alike--and that all the after\ndifferences result from education and circumstances. With them,\nVirgil and Byron had no constitutional aptitudes to poetry, and\nthe same training that gave Handel and Gluck their pre\u00ebminence in\nmusic, would have imparted to any other mind equal skill. According\nto their system, La Place and Zerah Colburn were no earlier or\nmore strongly inclined to mathematics, than other children. These\nsapient physiologists in descending to the animal tribes, ought to\nfind, that web-footed animals had no natural aptitude for water,\nthe canine tribes for animal food, and the ruminating, to feed on\ngrass and vegetables. I shall leave those who hold this dogma to\nretain it unquestioned so far as I am concerned; and they will\nbe obliged to leave me to mine, which is, that there are immense\ndifferences in the physical and mental constitution, differences\nwhich every enlightened parent discovers in his children from the\nvery dawn of their faculties--differences which every intelligent\ninstructer notes in his pupils, as soon as he becomes intimately\nacquainted with them--differences which, to keen and close\nobservation, distinguish more or less each individual in the\nimmense mass of society. No matter how much alike these persons are\nreared and trained; the most striking diversities of endowment are\noften observed in members of the same family, reared and educated\nwith all possible uniformity. This is, no doubt, a beautiful trait\nof that general impress of variety, which providence has marked\nupon every portion of the animate and inanimate creation. Nature\nhas willed, that not only men should possess an untiring diversity\nof form, countenance and mind, but that not two pebbles on the\nshore, or insects in the air, should be found precisely alike. The\nsign manual of the Creator on his works is a grand and infinite\nvariety.\n\nThe physiological inquiry whence these differences of temperament\nand aptitude arise, is one, which belongs to another subject;\nthough I have no wish to conceal my belief, that the fundamental\npositions of phrenology are as immovably founded in fact, and as\ncertainly follow from observation, as the leading axioms of any\nphysical science. It is enough for my present purpose, that the\norder of every form of society calls for an infinite variety of\naptitude, talent and vocation, and that nature has furnished the\nrequisite variety of endowment, adequately to meet those calls.\n\nThe ancient system, still in use, goes on the supposition, that\nall minds are originally alike; and that all children are equally\nfit to be trained for each of the vocations. Hence we see tailors\nat the anvil, and blacksmiths on the shopboard, innumerable\nexcellent ploughmen generating prose, and sleeping at the bar and\npulpit, and ingenious fiddlers ruined as engineers; in a word, all\nthat ludicrous disarrangement and seeming play at cross purposes,\nin virtue of which, men, who would have been borne, by a strong\ncurrent, to the first place in the profession for which nature\ndesigned them, become dull and useless in another. A great part\nof the whole labor of instruction has thus been worse than thrown\naway. It has been the hard effort of poetic fiction, laboring the\nhuge stone up an acclivity, to see it recoil and hear it thunder\nback again; the effort to circumvent, and cross the purposes of\nnature.\n\nIt seems to me to be among the most responsible inquiries of a\nparent and a conscientious instructor, what pursuit or calling is\nindicated for his child by his temperament and aptitude? The boy,\nwho, like Pope, even in childhood lisps in numbers, because the\nnumbers come, will probably be found to have not only an ear for\nthe peculiar harmony of rhythm, but an inventive mind, stored with\nimages, and a quick eye to catch the various phases of nature and\nsociety. If placed under favorable circumstances, and judicious\ntraining, this child will become a poet, while ninety-nine in a\nhundred of those, who make verses, could by no forcing of nature\never rise higher than rhymers. Thus may be detected the embryo\ngerms of temperament, endowment and character, which give the\nundeveloped promise of the future orator, lawyer, mathematician,\nnaturalist, mechanician, in a word, of the mind fitted to attain\ndistinction in any walk in society. I am aware of the mistakes,\nwhich fond and doting parents are likely to make, in interpreting\nan equivocal, perhaps an accidental sally of the cherished child,\nto be a sure proof of genius and endowment. No judicious and\nintelligent parent will be in much danger of being led astray by\nfondness so weak and misguided.--Wherever real endowment exists, it\nnever fails to put forth continual indications. It is the elastic\nvigor of nature working at the root, to which no foolish partiality\nwill be blind.\n\nIt is true, that nature, equally beneficent in what she has\ngranted, and what she has withheld, forms the million for the\ncommon duties and undistinguished employments; stamps them at once\nwith a characteristic uniformity and variety; and sends them forth\nwith specific adaptations, but not so strongly marked, as not to\nbe mistaken with comparative impunity. Hence the ordinary pursuits\nand employments of life are conducted with general success,\nnotwithstanding these smaller mistakes in regard to endowment.\n\nNot so in those rarer instances, where she has seen fit to stamp\nthe clear and strong impress of peculiar endowment and aptitude,\nin which the embryo poet, painter, mathematician, naturalist, and\norator are indicated by such unequivocal signs, as cannot easily\nbe overlooked, or mistaken by any competent judge. Hence, in the\nbiography of most of those who have truly and greatly distinguished\nthemselves, we are informed that the most ordinary people about\nthem were perfectly aware of the harbingers of their future\ngreatness. I am confident, that to keen and faithful observation\nthese harbingers are as palpable in the germ, as in the\ndevelopment. To mistake in such a case, and not only to withdraw\nthe youthful aspirant from the career to which nature beckons him,\nbut to force him into one, in which every effort must be rowing\nagainst the stream, is to consign him to an Egyptian bondage, a\nslavery of the soul, by which many a spirit of firmer mould has\nbeen broken down, and lost to society, and others worse than lost,\nrendered the scourge and curse of all with whom their lot was cast.\n\nSuch as have arrived at a maturity of reason and years, to have the\nresponsibility of the choice of a profession cast upon themselves,\nwill infer, what are my views in regard to the first element, by\nwhich they ought to be directed. It involves a previous question,\nfor what pursuit or calling their temperament, faculties and\npowers best fit them? By long and close observation, pursued\nwith a fidelity proportioned to its importance, by intent study\nof themselves, as called out by the changes of their health and\nprospects, the fluctuations of their spirits, their collisions\nwith society, in all the contingencies that befall them, they can\nscarcely fail to form some conception of the peculiar cast of their\npowers, and the walk in life, for which their capabilities are best\nadapted. If they select wisely in this respect, habit and time will\ncertainly render it the profession of their inclinations.\n\nAs soon as the mind begins to survey the professions, in regard\nto the honors, emolument and success, which they respectively\noffer, there is great danger, lest imagination, taking the place\nof reason, should look at the scene through a prism, and see\nall the chances of an illusive brilliancy of promise, which\nsober experience will be sure to disappoint. There are the\nimmense promises of the law, alluring a crowd of aspirants and\ncompetitors, the greater portion of whom must fail to realize their\nexpectations. There are the honors of the physician, binding him,\nby the strongest of all ties, to the confidence and affection of\nthe families that employ him. He exercises the only profession that\ndoes not depend upon the caprice of fashion, or the vibrations of\ntransient feeling.--There is the ministry, with its time-honored\nclaims, its peculiar title to be admitted to the privacy of\naffection, sickness and death, and its paramount capability of the\nhighest forms of that only eloquence that swells and softens the\nheart, by coming home to men\u2019s business and bosoms. There is the\nvaried range, and the rapidly acquired fortunes of merchandize and\ncommerce; the growing interest and importance of the new portico\nto a new order of nobility, manufactures. There is agriculture,\nalways seen to be the most satisfactory and useful of employments,\nand now rapidly coming to be viewed in the light of scientific\ninvestigation and of a liberal pursuit. To adjust and settle the\nrespective views, which the judgment and imagination will take of\nthe chances of these various pursuits, and their contiguity to\nlove, marriage, wealth, and distinction, will be found to be no\neasy task. Sometimes one view will predominate--sometimes another;\nand the mind appears like a pendulum vibrating between them.\n\nReason presents one decisive view of the subject. All these\nchances--all these balances of advantage and disadvantage have\nlong since settled to their actual and natural level. If the law\npresents more tempting baits, and more rich and glittering prizes,\nover-crowded competition, heart-wearing scramble, difficulty of\nrising above the common level, into the sun and air of distinction,\nare appended, as inevitable weights, in the opposing scale. The\nadvantages and disadvantages of all the professions are adjusted\nby the level of society, exactly in the same way. He who is guided\nin this inquiry by common sense, will comprehend at a glance, that\nit is impossible, in the nature of things, to combine all the\nadvantages and evade all the disadvantages of any one pursuit. No\nexpectation more irrational and disappointing can be indulged, than\nto unite incompatible circumstances of happiness. The inquirer\nmust reflect, that such a pursuit connects a series of fortunate\nchances; but there are the counterbalancing evils. Such another\nhas a different series of both. It is folly to expect to form an\namalgam of these immiscible elements. Reason can expect no more\nthan that we unite in the calling, finally fixed upon, as many\nfortunate circumstances as possible, and avoid, as far as may be,\nits inconveniences and evils.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\n\n\nNOTES.\n\n\nNote 1, page 39.\n\nThe history of circumstances under which I commenced reading the\nbook of M. Droz, _sur l\u2019 art d\u2019 \u00e9tre heureux_, the substance of the\nfirst chapter of which is given as above, will not be irrelevant,\nI would hope, _to you_, if to others. It was a beautiful April\nmorning, and I had wandered away from the town, with the book\nin my hand, among the hills. I inhaled a bland atmosphere that\njust ruffled half formed leaves, and shook from trees, shrubs and\nflowers the pearly drops and the delicious aroma of the season.\nA dun, purple, smoky vapor veiled the brilliancy of the sun and\ngave the face of nature its most exquisite coloring. A repose,\nlike sleep, seemed to rest upon the earth, only interrupted by the\nruminating of the flocks and herds on the hill sides. The bees\nsped away to their nectar cells from tree and flower, leaving upon\nthe dark and fleeting line of their passage through the air a\nlulling hum like the tones of an Eolian harp. A large town, with\nits ceaseless and heavy roll of mingled sounds, lay outstretched\nbeneath my feet. Painted boats were slowly wending their way along\na canal from the town, and winding their course round the foot of\nthe hills. Before me was a vast panorama of activity, business,\ncommerce and all the accompaniments of a busy town. A few paces\nbehind me, and I was plunged in a forest where town and commerce\nand life were hidden as if by the shifting of a scene, and the jay\nscreamed, and the woods showed as to the red man who had seen\nthem centuries before. A beautiful spring branch murmured by me in\nits deep and flood-worn channel down the glen. A little advance\nspread the town before me. A little retreat gave me back to the\nwildness of nature in the forest. Here I had often enjoyed much of\nthe little that life allows us to enjoy, in quiet communion with\nnature and my own thoughts. I had never experienced it in higher\nmeasures than at this moment. Could I, by a volition, have arrested\nthe flight of time and the succession of sensations, here would I\nhave fixed the _punctum stans_ of existence, and been content to\nhave this scene always around me, and the enjoyment of this union\nof meditation and repose, perpetual.\n\nBut a change came over my thoughts, as I read the quaint axiom,\nlaid down with such mathematical precision, _man is formed to be\nhappy_. What I saw and what I felt, my own consciousness assented\nto the proposition. But, startled by a transient feeling of pain,\na new train of ideas succeeded. I have only to pass, said I, the\nshort interval between this repose, verdure, quietness and internal\nsatisfaction, to reach the scene of dust and smoke before me.\nBesides spires and mansions, I shall see hovels, poor, blind, lame,\nsqualid, blaspheming youth, imbecile age, prostitutes, beggars,\nhaunts of felons and outlaws; and even in the abodes of what shows\nexternal comfort and opulence, the sick and dying hanging in\nagonies of suspense upon the countenance of their physician and\nfriends, as they catch gleams of hope or shades of despair from\ntheir aspect. Many of these sick, even if they recover, will only\nbe restored to trembling age, to perpetual and incurable infirmity,\nand to evils worse than death. Yet, unhappy in living, and afraid\nto die, they cling to this wretched existence as though it were\nthe highest boon. These varied shades of misery that the picture\nbefore me will present to the slightest inspection, in ten thousand\nforms and combinations, are visible in every part of our world. I,\ntoo, shall soon add to the deepness of the shading. My friends will\ndepart in succession; and in my turn, on the bed of death, I shall\nlook in the faces of those most dear to me, as I am compelled to\ndepart out of life. What an affecting contrast with what I see and\nwhat I am!\n\nWhy there is this partial evil in the world is not a question which\nI shall here attempt to vex; for I could add nothing to what has\nalready been said upon the subject. It is enough that the evil\ndoes actually exist. Is it remediless? Can life be so spent as to\nleave a balance of enjoyment set over against the evil? These are\nmy questions. There will always be inequality, ignorance, vice,\ndisease, a measureless amount of misery and death. What portion\nof the evils of life can be cured? What portion must be manfully,\npiously endured? What transient gleams of joy can be made to\nillumine the depth of shade?\n\nI yield entire faith to the doctrine before you, that, estimate\nthese evils as highly as you may, a balance of enjoyment may\nstill be struck in favor of life. I do not doubt, that more than\none half the suffering and sorrow which every individual endures\nis simply of his own procuring, and not only that it might have\nbeen wholly avoided, but that positive enjoyment might have been\nsubstituted in its place. An inconceivable mass of misery would at\nonce be struck from the sum if, as I have already remarked, we knew\nthe physical, organic and moral laws of our being, and conformed\nourselves to them. A uniform, consistent and thorough education\nwould cure us of innumerable errors of opinion, injurious habits,\nand a servile conformity to established and prescribed prejudices,\nand would impart to us wisdom, force of character and resignation,\nto enable us to sustain, as we ought, those that are unavoidable.\nImperfection, pain, decay and death, in the inevitable measures\nbelonging to organized beings, would remain. The dignity of true\nphilosophy, the stern consciousness of the necessity of courage,\nprofound and filial submission to the divine will, and the well\ndefined and investigated hopes of religion would accomplish the\nremainder.\n\nConsider one single evil--fear, unnecessary fear, an entirely\ngratuitous infusion of bitterness in the cup of life. I ask the man\nwho has seen fourscore winters to tell me, were all that he has\nsuffered in his pilgrimage cast into one account, what would be the\ngreatest item in the sum? I believe that almost every one might\nanswer, that more than half might be charged to one single source\nof suffering--fear--fear of opinion, reproach, shame, poverty,\npain, danger, disease and death. I pause not to consider the usual\ndull illustrations of the wisdom and utility of assigning to us\nthe instinct of fear, to put us on our guard and to enable us to\nward off evils. It is not this instinctive shrinking and vigilance\nto avoid evil that I consider. Let education have its most perfect\nwork in raising us superior to this servile and tormenting passion,\nand too much of it would still remain. Of all that we have suffered\nfrom fear, what portion has been of any service in shielding us\nfrom that which we apprehended? Not only have we avoided no evil\nin consequence, but the enervating indulgence of this passion\nhas taken from us our quickness of foresight, our coolness of\ndeliberation, our firmness of action and resolve, by the exercise\nof which, we might have escaped all that we dreaded. We may\ncalculate then, that every pang we have felt from this source has\nbeen just so much gratuitous agony.\n\nNot only natural instincts, but acquired habits are transmitted;\nand this evil of fearfulness, this foreboding of apprehension,\nshaping the fashion of uncertain ills, has been the growing\ninheritance of countless generations; and a shrinking and\neffeminate timidity has been woven into our mental constitution\nby nature. Education, instead of resisting, or counteracting, or\ndiminishing the transmitted mischief, has labored with terrible\neffect, to make it a principle and a motive to action, and the\nmost efficient engine of the inculcated systems of morality and\nreligion. Fear of death, and a slavish terror, springing from\nmisapprehensions of the character of the divine being, and unmanly\nand debilitating horrors in regard to the unknown future in another\nlife, these have been the chief sources of this evil. Terribly have\nthe father and the mother, the minister and the school-master, and\ngeneral prescription and example concurred, to strengthen this\nbarbarous instrument of governing, which never inspired a good\naction, and which it would be cruel to apply to a slave. Horrible\nhave been the bondage, the mean abjectness of spirit, the long\nagony of the soul, which this inculcation has inspired.--We have\nbeen sedulously trained in a course of discipline which has made\nus afraid of our own shadows in the dark, and inspired us with\nshrinking and terror in view of a silent and peaceful corpse,\nwhich, in the eye of sober reason, should originate associations no\nmore fearful, than a waxen figure. We, who are the victims of this\ninborn and instinctive inheritance, we, who have had it inwoven by\nprecept, education and example, and the prevalent impression, that\nit is one of the purest and most religious motives of action, are\nbest able from our own consciousness, and the memory of what we\nhave suffered from it, to present just views of it to others.--It\nmay be in us an ingrafted principle, too deep to be uprooted\nby any rules, or reasons, or system of discipline; a habit too\nunyieldingly become a part of our nature, to be overcome. But with\nminds more docile, with temperaments more pliant, with habits\nless fixed, it may be otherwise. The next generation may transmit\na more manly and less timid nature to the generations to come.\nEducation, building on the basis of minds of more force, may then\naccomplish its perfect work, imbuing them with a filial confidence\nin the Almighty, a sense of the beauty of well-doing, and a perfect\nfearlessness in regard to everything, but doing wrong. The happier\ngeneration of that era, will be spared the agony of all deaths, but\nthe single one of nature; and will be fortified by discipline, and\nthe force of general opinion and example, to regard this inevitable\nlaw of our being, this merciful provision of providence, this rest\nfor the worn and weary, as the hireling regards the evening shade,\nwhen he reposes from his labors and receives his reward. I shall\nelsewhere advert to this evil in more detail, and point out such\nremedies, as appear to me to be suggested by reason, education and\nreligion.\n\n\nNote 2, page 41.\n\nThis classification of the great divisions of our species, as they\nare occupied in the pursuit of happiness, seems to me to unite\ntruth with poetry and philosophy, and to be both happy and just.\nThe disappointed, who affirm that the earth offers no happiness,\nthe gloomy, who view life as a place of penance, austerity and\ntears, the dissipated and voluptuous, who seek only pleasure, and\nwhose doctrine is, that life offers no happiness but in unbridled\nindulgence, the ambitious, who consider happiness to consist only\nin wealth, power and distinction, and a very numerous class, who\nhave no object in view, but to vegetate through life by chance,\nconstitute the great mass of mankind. The number of those who\nhave lived by system, and disciplined themselves to the wise and\ncalculating pursuit of happiness, has always been small. But\nthere have still been some, enough to prove the practicability\nof the art.--Wherever we find a person, who declares that he has\nlived happily, if his enjoyments have been of a higher kind,\nthan the mere vegetative easiness of a felicitous temperament\nand an unthinking joyousness, we shall find on inquiry, that he\nhas been a philosopher in the highest and best sense. He may\nscarcely understand the import of the term; but, however ignorant\nof systems, and the learning of the schools, if he have made it\nhis chief business, to learn by the study of himself, and general\nobservation, how to be happy, he is the true sage. He may well\nbe content, let others regard him as they may; for he has put in\nrequisition the best wisdom of life. No one maxim, especially,\never included more important and practical truth, than that, to be\nhappy, we must assiduously train ourselves to retain through life\na keen and juvenile freshness of sensibility to enjoyment, and\nmust early learn to anticipate the effect of experience and years\nin cultivating a stern indifference, a strong spirit of endurance,\nand unshrinking obtuseness to pain. It has been my fortune to see\nexamples of persons who enjoyed life even to old age with all the\nardor and the quick perception of the young, and who had always\nbeen as remarkable for their impassive and heroic endurance of pain.\n\n\nNote 3, page 43.\n\nWe are told, in ridicule of this study, that men have been very\nhappy without rules, and before any system had been laid down,\nand will continue to be happy, unconscious of the means by which\nthey arrived at their enjoyment. So have men reasoned without\nacquaintance with the rules of logic; but this proves not the\ninutility of the study. Let the objector convince us that the happy\nwithout thought and rules would not have been happier if they had\nsought enjoyment with the keen and practical intelligence of a\nFranklin.\n\nWhatever men do well without definite aim and without rules, it is\nclear to me, they would do better with these advantages. The same\nargument equally militates with all means of moral instruction.\n\u2018The world,\u2019 the objector may say, \u2018will proceed as before, say\nwhat we may.\u2019 But this would be deemed no just ground of objection\nto an attempt to improve the age, though the efforts may have\nlittle visible and apparent effect.\n\n\nNote 4, page 44.\n\nNo term has been more hackneyed, in these days, than education.\nWe have had system upon system, and treatise upon treatise; and\nmore has been written and declaimed upon this subject than almost\nany other. And yet, scarcely a word has been said upon a grand\nand radical defect in all existing systems which reduces to a\nvery humble scale the results of the best concerted efforts. I\nlay out of the question all other incongruities, that I might\neasily mention, and come directly to that which I have chiefly in\nmy mind. Each of the different instructors, through whose forming\nhands the pupil passes, communicates to him different, militant\nand incompatible impulses; so that, instead of a continuous\noperation and an onward movement, it seems to be the work of each\nsuccessive teacher to undo that of all the others. The father and\nmother, besides various minor inculcations, labor, as their highest\nobject, to infuse into the mind of their child, ambition, the\ndesire of pre\u00ebminence and distinction. The school-master instils\nthe same principles under such different circumstances as to\nrender the envy, rivalry and competition of the school-room almost\nanother series of impulses. The minister and the catechism enjoin\nhumility, meekness and a disposition to prefer others in honor\nbefore themselves. \u2018Be honest and high-minded,\u2019 say the parents\nand teachers. \u2018Be adroit, and circumvent those who are watching\nto take advantage of your weakness and inexperience,\u2019 says the\nmaster at the counting-desk. The elder friends teach one class of\nmaxims, and the younger another. The actual world inculcates rules\ndifferent from all the rest. Thus the parents, the school-master,\nthe minister, the politician, society and the world are continually\nvarying the direction of the youthful traveller. No wonder that\nmost people either have no character, or one that is a compound of\nthe most incongruous elements. A pupil, to have a strong, wise,\nmarked and efficient character, should have had it steadily trained\nto one end; and every impulse ought to have been in a right line\nand concurrent with every other. Such must be the case before\nhonest and uniform characters will be formed.\n\nThere is little force in the objection, that he who has not been\nconstantly happy himself ought not to presume to teach others to\nbe happy. On the contrary, as the author beautifully suggests,\nnone can discuss, with so much experience and force of truth, the\ndangers of shipwreck, as they who have themselves suffered it. If\nthe art of happiness can be taught, the teacher must necessarily\nhave paid the price of a qualification to impart it, in having\nbeen himself unhappy. Conscious that he had the susceptibility of\nenjoyment, and wanted only the right direction of the means, he\nwill be able to set up way-marks, as a warning to others, at the\npoints where he remembers that he went astray himself.\n\n\nNote 6, page 45.\n\nThe necessity of moderating our desires and reducing them within\nthe limits of what we may reasonably hope to acquire, has been\nthe beaten theme of prose and song for so many ages that the\ntriteness of repetition has finally caused the great truth to\nbe almost disregarded by moralists. Yet, who can calculate the\nsum of torment that has been inflicted by wild and unreasonable\ndesires, by visionary and puerile expectations, beyond all\nprobable bounds of means to realize them, indulged and fostered\nuntil they have acquired the force of habit! Whose memory cannot\nrecur to sufferings from envy and ill will, generated by cupidity,\nfor the possessions and advantages of others that we have not!\nWho can count the pangs which he has endured from extravagant\nand unattainable wishes! Poetry calls our mortal sojourn a vale\nof tears; yet what ingenuity to multiply the gratuitous means\nof self-torment! Has another health, wealth, beauty, fortune,\nendowment, which I have not? Envy will neither take them from\nhim, nor transfer them to me. Why, then, should I allow vultures\nto prey upon my spirit? Learn neither to regret what you want\nand cannot supply, nor to hate him who is more fortunate. With\nall his apparent advantages over you, he wants, perhaps, what\nyou may possess, a tranquil mind. There is little doubt that you\nare the happier person if you contemplate his advantages and his\npossessions with a cheerful and unrepining spirit.\n\nI present two considerations only, as inducements to control and\nregulate your desires. 1. In indulging them beyond reason you are\nfostering internal enemies and becoming a self-tormentor. In the\nquaint language of the ancient divines, they are like fire, good\nservants but terrible masters. 2d. The higher gifts of fortune, the\ncommon objects of envious desire, are awarded to but a few. The\nnumber of those who may entertain any reasonable hope of reaching\nthem is very small. But every one can moderate his desires. Every\none can set bounds to his ambition. Every one can limit his\nexpectations. What influence can fortune, events, or power exercise\nover a person, who has learned to be content with a little, and\nwho has acquired courage to resign even that without repining?\nFranklin might well smile at the impotent malice of those who would\ndeprive him of his means and his business, when he proved to them\nthat he could live on turnips and rain water. It is not the less\ntrue or important, because it has been a million times said, that\nhappiness, the creature of the mind, dwells not in external things.\n\n\nNote 7, page 47.\n\nWherever civilized man has been found, the first effort of his\nmind, beyond the attainment of his animal wants, has been to\ntravel into the regions of imagination, to create a nobler and\nmore beautiful world than the dull and common-place existing one,\nto assign to man a higher character and purer motives than belong\nto the actual race. To possess a frame inaccessible to pain and\ndecay, and to dwell in eternal spring, surrounded by beauty and\ntruth, is an instinctive desire. A mind of any fertility can\ncreate and arrange such a scene; and in this dreaming occupation\nthe sensations are tranquillizing and pleasant beyond the more\nexciting enjoyment of actual fruition. With the author, I deem\nthe propensity for this sort of meditation neither unworthy in\nitself, nor tending to consequences to be deprecated. So far as\nmy own experience goes, and I am not without my share, it neither\nenervates nor satiates. It furnishes enjoyment that is calm and\nsoothing; and such enjoyment, instead of enfeebling, invigorates\nthe mind to sustain trials and sorrows. Why should we not enter\ninto every enjoyment that is followed by no painful consequences?\nWhy should we not be happy when we may? Is he not innocently\nemployed who is imagining a fairer scene--a better world--more\nbenevolence, and more joy than this \u2018visible diurnal sphere\u2019\naffords? Addison is never presented to me in a light so amiable\nas when he relates his day-dreams, his universal empire, in which\nhe puts down all folly and all wickedness, and makes all his\npersonages good and happy. Every writer who has produced a romance\nworth reading, has been endowed in this way, as a matter of course;\nand I confidently believe that the greatest and best of men have\nbeen most strongly inclined to this sort of mental creation. May\nnot their noblest achievements have been the patterns of those\narchetypes? I have no doubt that imaginings infinitely more\ninteresting than any recorded in romances, Arabian tales, or any\nother work of fiction, have imparted their transient exhilaration\nto meditative minds, and have passed away with the things that\nnever grew into the material and concrete grossness of sensible\nexistence. If ink and paper and printing could have been created as\ncheaply and readily as a new earth and better men and women, and\nscenes more like what we hope for at last, the world would have had\nbequeathed to it more volumes, than would have weighed down all\nthe ponderous dulness of by-gone romance. I cannot assure myself,\nthat you would have been amused, or instructed in reading; but you\nwould then have been able to form some idea of the hours of pain,\nembarrassment, lack of all external means of pleasant occupation,\njourneying, cold and watching, that have been beguiled by this\nemployment. I only add that, so far as my experience extends, the\nfirst calm days of spring, and the period of Indian summer in\nautumn are most propitious to this sort of revery.\n\n\nNote 8, page 48.\n\nThese and the subsequent views of ambition in this essay of M.\nDroz, have been the theme of severe and sweeping strictures upon\nthe general tendency of his book. Ambitious and aspiring men will\nfind it ridiculous, of course, to exact, as a pre-requisite to\nthe pursuit of happiness, the abandonment, or the moderation of\nambitious thoughts, especially in such a country as ours, where\nsome boon is held out to tempt these aspirings in almost every\ncondition, from the mansion to the cabin. It may not be amiss\nfor men, who are themselves aspirants, and to whom the access to\ndistinction and power is easy, and the attainment probable, to\ndeclaim against the tendency of these maxims. I know well, that\nin every rank and position, the inculcation of aspiring thoughts,\nemulation and rivalry is the first and last lesson, the grand\nand beaten precept, upon which the million are acting. I am well\naware how many hearts are wrung by all the fierce and tormenting\npassions, associated with this devouring one. I affirm nothing in\nregard to my own interior views, respecting what the world calls\nfame, glory and immortality. Those who are most dear to me, will\nnot understand me to be entering my _caveat_ to dissuade them from\nthis _last infirmity of noble minds_. Could I do it with more\neloquence than ever yet flowed from tongue or pen, there will\nalways be a hundred envious competitors for every single niche\nin the temple of fame. It can be occupied but by one; and he who\ngains it will exult in his elevation only during its freshness\nand novelty. The rest, to the torment of fostered and devouring\ndesires, will add the bitterness of disappointment.\n\nSince it is a fact out of question, that the greater portion of\nthe species can never secure the objects of their ambition, is it\nill-judged in one who treats upon the science of happiness, to\nwrite for the million instead of the few favorites of fortune?\nThe principles of a philosophic investigation ought not to be\nnarrowed down to meet the wishes of the few. The question is,\nwhether, taking into view ambition and all the associated feelings,\nthe toil of pursuit, and the difficulty and unfrequency of the\nattainment of its objects, it is, on the whole, favorable to\nhappiness to cherish the passion, or not? I am clear, that even\nthe successful aspirants, if their rivalry were more generous and\nphilanthropic, and their indulgence of the cankering and corroding\nof ill-concealed envy, derision, hate and scorn, were regulated,\nwould be not the less rapid in reaching the goal, or happy in the\nfruition of their attainment. I have little doubt, if an exact\nbalance of enjoyment and suffering could be struck, at the last\nhour between two persons, whose circumstances in other respects\nhad been similar, one of whom had been distinguished in place\nand power, in consequence of cultivating ambition; and the other\nobscure in peaceful privacy, in consequence of having chosen that\ncondition, that the scale of happiness would decidedly incline\nin favor of the latter. In a word, it is the index of sound\ncalculation, to prepare for the fate of the million, rather than\nthat of the few. Repress ambition, as much as we may, there will\nalways remain enough to render the world an aceldama, and the human\nheart a place of concentrated torment.\n\nIt is clear, therefore, to me, that in making up the debt and\ncredit account of life, in relation to happiness, most of the\nsentiments associated with ambition, and its prolific family of\nself-tormenting passions, may be set down as gratuitous items\nof misery, superinduced by our own voluntary discipline. I shall\nbe asked, what is to stimulate to exertion, to study, toil and\nsacrifice, to great and noble actions, and what shall lead to fame\nand renown, if this incentive be taken away? I answer, that, what\nis ordinarily dignified with the appellation of ambition, is a vile\nmixture of the worst feelings of our nature. There is in all minds,\ntruly noble, a sufficient impulse towards great actions, apart from\nthese movements, which are generally the excitements of little and\nmean spirits. Take the whole nature of man into the calculation,\nand there can never be a want of sufficient impulse towards\ndistinction, without a particle of those contemptible motives,\nwhich are generally put to the account of praiseworthy incitement.\nTruly great men have been remarkable for their exemption from\nenvy, the inseparable concomitant of conscious deficiency; and\nfor a certain calm and tranquil spirit, indicating moderation and\ncomparative indifference in the struggle of emulation. They are\nable to say, in regard to the highest boon of ambition,\n\n      \u2018I neither spurn, nor for the favor call,\n       It comes unasked-for, if it comes at all.\u2019\n\nWhy, then, in a world, and in an order of society, where ambition,\nwith its associated passions, brings in an enormous amount to\nthe mass of human self-inflicted torment, should he be censured,\nwho advises, that in the philosophic and calculating pursuit of\nhappiness, this element of misery should be, as much as possible,\nrepressed? The question may be more strongly urged, when we take\ninto the account, the consideration, that the far greater portion\nof the species must calculate on the bitterness of disappointment,\nin addition to the miseries which are inseparable from the\nindulgence of this passion. All the inordinate thirst for power\nand fame of the countless aspirants, who desire to be Alexanders,\nC\u00e6sars and Napoleons, not only is so much subtracted from their\nenjoyment, and added to their misery, but has little tendency to\naid them to attainments, which, after all, are as frequently the\naward of contingency, as of calculation.\n\nLet the evils of retirement and obscurity, be fairly balanced\nwith those of gratified ambition, and let the aspirant feel, that\nthey are absolutely incompatible, the one with the other.--Let\nhim then make his election, in view of the consequences, and not\nfoolishly expect that he can unite incompatible advantages. If he\nchooses the dust and scramble of the arena, and the intoxicating\npleasures at the goal, let him not repine, that he cannot unite\nwith them those of repose, retirement and a tranquil mind. If, on\nthe contrary, he prefers to hold on the noiseless tenor of his\nway, in peace and privacy, let not the serpents of envy sting him,\nwhen he sees the car of the fortunate aspirant drawn forward by\nthe applauding million. Let not murmurs arise in his heart, when\nhe hears, or reads of the rewards, honors and immortality of those\nwhom he may believe to be endowed no higher than himself with\ntalents or virtues. Let him say, \u2018no one can show me the mind, or\npaint me the consciousness of that man. Fortune and my own choice\nhave assigned me the shade. Let me not embitter its coolness and\nits satisfactions, by idle desires to unite advantages, that are,\nin their nature, incongruous. Let me remember, that mine is the\ncondition of the million. My Creator cannot have doomed so vast\na proportion of his creatures to a state, which is necessarily\nmiserable. All that remains to me, is to make the best of the\ncommon lot.\u2019\n\n\nNote 9, page 50.\n\nSevere strictures have, also, been passed upon this maxim. I well\nknow, that the common rules proposed to the young, in commencing\ntheir serious and more advanced studies, lead them to look forward\nto happiness, as a garland suspended from the goal, an object only\nin remote expectation, the fruition of which should be hoped for\nonly at a period of life, when few are capable of enjoyment, even\nif the means were in their power. To calculate on comfort and\nrepose, early in life, has been considered as a sort of effeminate\nweakness.\n\nThese unphilosophic views of education have, more than almost any\nother, thrown over the whole course of preparatory discipline for\nlife, a repulsive gloom, tending to fill the mind of the pupil\nwith dismay and disgust in view of his studies.--The young should\nbe early imbued with the sentiment, that God sent them here to be\nhappy, not in indolence, intoxication, voluptuousness or insanity;\nbut in earnest and vigorous discipline for coming duties. And at\nthis bright epoch, when nature spreads a charm over existence, a\nphilosophic teacher may easily train them to invest their studies,\nlabors, and pursuits, and perhaps even their privations and\nseverer toils, with a coloring of cheerfulness and gayety, when\ncontemplated as the only means of discipline by which they may hope\nto reach a desired end. They should be trained to meet events, and\nbrave the shock of adversity with a firm and searching purpose,\nto find either a way to mitigate the pressure, or to increase\nself-respect by the noble pride of manifesting to themselves, with\nhow much calmness and patient endurance they can overcome the\ninevitable ills of their condition. In other words, they should\nmake enjoyment a means, as well as an end, that they may carry\nonward, from their first days, an accumulating stock of happiness,\nwith which courage and cheerfulness may paint future anticipations\nin the mellow lustre of past remembrances. In this way the bow of\npromise may be made to bend its brilliant arch over every period of\nthis transient existence, connecting what has been, and what will\nbe, in the same radiant span.\n\nEntertaining such views of the direction which might be given to\nthe juvenile mind, I mourn over those weak parents, who are nursing\ntheir children with effeminate fondness, not allowing the _winds\nto visit them too roughly_, pampering their wishes, instead of\nteaching them to repress them: and rather striving to ward from\nthem all pains and privations, than teaching them that they must\nencounter innumerable sorrows and disappointments, and disciplining\nthem to breast the ills of life with a conquering fortitude.\nOpulence generally gives birth to this injudicious plan of parental\neducation. Penury, as little directed by sound views, but impelled\nby the stern teaching of necessity, imparts to the children of the\npoor, a much more salutary discipline, and they ordinarily come\nforward with a more robust spirit, with more vigor, power and\nelasticity; and it is in this way, that providence adjusts the\nbalance of advantages between these different conditions.\n\nWe have all admired the practical philosophy of the man, who, when\nsick of a painful disease, thanked God that he was not subject to a\nstill more painful one; and when under the pressure of the latter,\nfound cause for cheerfulness, that he was not visited with both\ndiseases at the same time. Akin to this was the noble fortitude of\nthe mariner, who, when a limb was carried away by a cannon-ball,\ncongratulated himself that it was not his head. I do not say\nthat any one can find cheerfulness in contemplating such Spartan\nspirits, but that a philosophy of this sort would disarm the common\nills of life of much of their power, and would even enable the\nsufferer to find enjoyment in the midst of them.\n\nIt would be no disadvantage even to the ambitious and aspiring\nto abstract, from the toils of their pursuit, the bitter and\ncorroding spirit of rivalry and envy, and in its stead to cultivate\nsentiments of kindness, complacency and moderation. Let their ends\nbe so noble, as to give an air of dignity to the means that they\nemploy, and they will throw a splendor of self-respect over their\ncourse. Let the aspirant say, \u2018I struggle not for myself, but\nto procure competence for aged parents, to gild their declining\nyears with the view of my success. It is for dependent relatives,\norphans, the poor and friendless, whom Providence has given\nparticular claims on me, that I struggle. It is to benefit and\ngladden those who are dearer to me than life, and not for my own\nsordid vanity and ambition, that I strive to toil up the ascent of\nfame.\n\nIn fine, the author, while he inculcates the maxim that we should,\nfrom the beginning, study to number happy days, would not teach,\nas he has been charged with teaching, that we may give labor and\nstudy and the toil of preparation to the winds, and consult only\nthe indolent leading of our passions; for he knows, as do we all,\nthat this course results in anything but \u2018happy days.\u2019 He would\nsend us, on the contrary, in pursuit of happiness, to the teaching\nof wisdom and experience, that never bestow impracticable lessons.\nHe would only inculcate, that while others have taught us to seek\nultimate happiness through means of pain, we should make the means\nthemselves immediate sources of enjoyment. It is a fact out of\nquestion, that we may train ourselves to find enjoyment in those\ntoils and privations, which are to others, sources of disgust\nand sorrow. Who has not thrilled, as he read of the author, who,\noppressed with cares, infirmities and years, took leave of a\nbook, the result of the most laborious and protracted study, that\nwas to be published only after his death, with a pleasant ode of\nthankfulness to it, as having furnished him agreeable occupation,\nand beguiled years of sorrow and pain? On this subject, I too can\nspeak experimentally. I have often experienced an inward conscious\nsatisfaction in realizing the pleasure and enjoyment, which I\nfound in the same pursuits and labors, which were the most painful\ndrudgery to others, equally qualified to pursue them with myself.\nThe bee extracts honey from the same flower which to the spider\nyields only poison.\n\nNothing but experience can teach us to what extent force of\ncharacter, and a capacity without cowardly shrinking, to face\ndanger, pain and death, may be acquired.--Compare, for example, a\nmilitia-man torn from the repose of his retreat, and forced into\nimmediate battles, with the same person in the same predicament,\nwhen he shall have become a trained veteran. Compare the only child\nof weak, fond and opulent parents, as he is seen in the hour of\napprehended shipwreck, or of fierce conflict with the enemy, with\nthe sailor-boy, born in the same vicinity, but compelled by the\nrough discipline of poverty, to encounter the elements, and the\naspect of danger and death from boyhood.\n\nI shall take occasion hereafter, to remark on the stubborn and\ninvincible apathy of the red men of our forests, in the endurance\nof slow fire, and all the forms of torture, which the ingenuity\nof Indian revenge can devise. I no longer trace this apparent\ninsensibility to pain and fear, as I formerly did, to a more\ncallous frame, and nerves of obtuser feeling. I see in it the\nastonishing result of their institutions, and the influence of\npublic opinion upon them. In the same connexion, I shall remark\nupon the testimony which the conduct of martyrs bears to the same\npoint. Place a sufficient motive before the sufferer, and the\nproper witnesses around him, and he may be disciplined to endure\nanything without showing a subdued spirit. The most timid woman\nwill not shrink from a surgical operation, when those she loves\nand respects, surround her and applaud her courage. Leave her\nalone with the surgeon, and the very sight of his instrument will\nproduce shrieks and faintings. The mad personage who leaped the\nGenesee falls, fell a victim, to the influence which encouraged\nvanity and ambition exert upon their subject to spur him on to\nany degree of daring. If the right application of a motive, so\nlittle worthy as the mere gratification of a moment\u2019s vanity, can\nharden the spirit for such attempts, what might not be effected by\na discipline, wisely guided by a simple purpose to impart force,\nenergy and unshrinking courage, to meet and vanquish the inevitable\nevils of life? To me there is nothing incredible in the story of\nthe Spartan boy, who had stolen the fox, and allowed the animal,\nwhile concealed under his mantle, to tear his entrails, rather\nthan, by uttering a groan, to commit his character for hardihood\nand capability of adroit thieving. Parents, your children will\nbe compelled to encounter fatigue, privation and pain, under any\ncircumstances in which they can be placed. You can easily pamper\nthem to an effeminacy that will shrink from any effort, and, if I\nmay so quote, \u2018to die of a rose in aromatic pain;\u2019 to be feeble,\ntimid, repining, and yet voluptuous. You can as easily teach them\nto find pleasure in labor, and in the sentiment of that force of\nmind, with which they can firmly meet pain, privation, danger and\ndeath. Train them for the world in which they are destined to live.\nTeach them to _quit themselves like men, and be strong_.\n\n\nNote 10, page 51.\n\nIt is impossible to present a better summary of the essentials of\nhappiness. As the author remarks, they are difficult to unite. Yet,\nwhoever lacks either, must be peculiarly unfortunate, or indulgent\nto himself, if he cannot trace the want to some aberration or\nneglect of his own. Health, perhaps, is the least within our\npower; for, by the fault of our ancestors, we may have inherited a\nconstitution and temperament essentially vitiated and unhealthy. We\nmay lose health by casualty or by the influence of causes utterly\nbeyond our knowledge or our control. But for one person thus\nafflicted with want of health, it is notorious that a hundred are\nso from causes which they may trace to their own mismanagement.\nTranquillity of mind, is certainly a frame, on which we have a\ncontrolling influence. Whoever, in our country, has not competence,\nmust assuredly seek the cause, if he have health, in his own want\nof industry or management. Most of the complaints of the caprice,\ninfidelity and unworthiness of friends would have a more equitable\napplication to our own want of temper, truth and disinterestedness.\nThese things, indispensable to happiness, are far more subject to\nour command, than our self-flattery will allow us to imagine. The\ngreater portion of those about us might unite all these advantages.\nYet, if all misery, other than that which arises from want of\nbeing able to unite all these numerous and difficult requisites to\nhappiness, were abstracted from human nature, I am confident that\na moiety of the sorrows of earth would be removed; in other words,\nthat a philosophic pursuit of happiness, would at once deliver us\nfrom more than half of our suffering here below.\n\n\nNote 11, page 59.\n\nThe memory of almost every person who has been present at a\nfuneral, attended by a protestant minister of a certain class, will\nfurnish him with recollections of these preposterous harangues\nof attempted consolation. The mourners are instructed that it is\nsinful to grieve; that grief implies want of faith in the great\ntruths of the gospel; that Christianity forbids it; and, more than\nall, that it argues doubt of the happiness of the deceased; or a\nmurmuring want of submission to the Divine will. Such doctrines,\nin the minds of weak and superstitious mourners who feel that it\nis not in their power to repress grief, inspire painful distrust\nand self-reproach; and, in men more disciplined in the ways\nof the world, and more acquainted with human nature, contempt\nfor the ignorant folly or gross hypocrisy of the declaimer. The\nunchanging constitution of human nature revolts at such maxims.\nWhoever affects to be insensible to the loss of a child, relative,\nor friend, is either a stranger to his own perceptions, practises\ndeceit, or has no heart to be grieved. Christianity is pre\u00ebminently\nthe religion of tenderness, and forbids the indulgence of no\ninherent emotion of our nature within its proper limits. It is most\nabsurd of all, to suppose that God has forbidden, or interprets\nas murmurs, the sorrows that we feel from his stroke. There are\nfew persons so disinterested, even if they were assured beyond a\ndoubt, that the person they mourn is happy, as not to grieve at the\nfinal earthly severance which cuts off the accustomed communion of\nheart; and interdicts the mourner from the sight and participation\nof that happiness. The cause of Christianity has suffered beyond\ncalculation, from the exaggeration of its requirements by weak\nenthusiasts, or designing bigots. Distorted views and impracticable\nrequisitions have disgusted more persons with the system of the\ngospel than Hume\u2019s argument against miracles, or all the sophistry\nof unbelief. The gospel takes into view the whole nature of man,\nand all its precepts announce, _nolumus leges natur\u00e6 mutari_--_we\nwill that the laws of nature should not be changed_.\n\n\nNote 12, page 61.\n\nIt is not necessary to recur to the history of great revolutions\nto furnish the most impressive examples of human vicissitude and\ninstability. The Latin poet had reason for his maxim, who said,\n\n      \u2018Si fortuna juvat caveto tolli;\n       Si fortuna tonat caveto mergi.\u2019\n\nLife in every country and in all time has been full of affecting\ninstances of the young, beautiful, endowed and opulent struck\ndown in the brightest presage of their dawn. That is the true\nphilosophy which draws, from continual exposure to these blows, a\nmotive, to make the most, in the way of innocent enjoyment, of the\nperiod that is in our power.\n\n\nNote 13, page 62.\n\nThis beautiful painting furnishes an impressive emblem of the\ncapability of the human constitution, corporeal and mental, to\nassimilate itself to any change; and of becoming insensible, by\nhabit, to any degree of uniform endurance. Those fanatics in the\nearly ages of the church, preposterously called saints, and others\nlike them, professing all forms of religion, that may still be\nfound in the oriental countries, who sit for years on a pillar\nunder the open sky, or curve themselves into a half circle and\nremain in that position until their forms grow to it, shortly cease\nto feel much uneasiness in a posture which becomes habitual. To\nrestore them to their original forms, after nature has affixed her\nseal of consent to the distortion, would, probably, cause as much\npain as was requisite to acquire the habit. We have all read the\naffecting tale of the prisoner released from the Bastille after\na confinement of more than a quarter of a century. He found the\nordinary pursuits and intercourse of life insupportable, and begged\nto be restored to his dungeon. This is a most important aspect\nof the nature of man which parents and instructers have as yet\nscarcely taken into view in their efforts to mould the youthful\ncharacter. Children can as easily be formed to be Spartans as\nSybarites; and, in the former case, they not only acquire the noble\nattributes of courage and force of character, but contract habits\nof patient and manly endurance, furnishing a better shield against\nthe ills of life than any in the command of opulence or foresight.\n\n\nNote 14, page 65.\n\n\u2018Fate leads the willing, drags the unwilling on,\u2019 and the single\nquestion is, by which of these processes would we choose to meet\nour lot? No doctrine of the true philosophy lies so obviously on\nthe surface as the wisdom of resignation; the disposition, in the\nexercise of which, more than in any order, a wise man differs from\nthe million of murmuring and repining beings about him, who are\nmadly struggling with the inexorable powers of nature, and doubting\ntheir evils by this useless and painful resistance. When we can\nno longer either evade or resist fortune, we can, at least, half\ndisarm her by a calm and manly resignation.\n\n\nNote 15, page 69.\n\nThe instinctive sentiment of the love of country and home is\nbeautifully described in these paragraphs. In health and good\nfortune, the amusements and distractions of life, may keep this\nsentiment out of sight. But \u2018_dulces moriens reminiscitur Argos_\u2019\nis the feeling with which most strangers die in a foreign land.\nIn every heart, rightly constituted, the moment the absence of\nadventitious pleasures forces the mind back upon itself, the\ninstinctive feeling resumes its original force. It seems to me\nalways an unfavorable trait in the character of an immigrant from\nabroad, that he is disposed to speak unfavorably of his native\ncountry, or does not seem to prefer it to all others. God has\nwrought into the mind of every good man a filial feeling towards\nhis native country.\n\n\nNote 15a, page 69.\n\nNone of the sentiments and maxims of M. Droz have been more\nseverely censured than those of the succeeding paragraphs. I am as\nlittle disposed to inculcate an indolent philosophy, as any other\nperson. These views seem peculiarly unfitted for the genius of our\ncountry, where everything respires, as it ought, energy, industry,\na fixed purpose and a keen pursuit. That such are the requirements\nof our institutions is a truth too strongly forced upon us by\nthe order of everything in our country, to require any other\nproof. I would be the last person to feel disposed to recommend\na philosophy, which would tend to quench that busy and daring\nspirit which is the most striking characteristic of our nation.\nNo elevation or opulence among us can dispense with a definite\npursuit. So forcibly is every citizen reminded of this, by all he\nsees about him, that without a pursuit, no one among us can sustain\nhis own self-respect. He, who courts seclusion and retirement, on\nthe principles of the author is obliged, even in his retirement,\nto keep himself engaged. He must devote himself to agriculture,\nmanufactures, or some other absorbing pursuit.\n\nIt is hardly necessary to add that no American is in danger\nof subscribing to his disqualifying views of the law, or any\nother profession. A freeman ought to hold, that he can confer\nrespectability upon whatever pursuit circumstances may impel him\nto follow. Happily, no harm would result, in our country, from the\ndislike of the author to the law. By what seems to me an unhappy\ngeneral consent among us, the law is absorbing in the temptations\nthat it offers to our young men. It is the prescribed avenue to all\nhonor and place. All our functionaries must have passed into the\ntemple of power and fame through this portico. Hence it is, and\nprobably long will be thronged by a great corps of supernumeraries.\nI would certainly be the last, not to think respectfully of the\nprofession; but still I dislike to see so many of our aspiring\nyoung men crowding into it, to meet inevitable disappointment.\n\nBut critics will moderate their strictures upon the author, when\nthey call to mind, that although there is no such class, as people\nof leisure in our country, it constitutes a great and powerful one\nin France; perhaps greater in proportion, than any other country.\nThe chief application of these paragraphs must be to men of that\ncondition, of whom the better class make literature at once\ntheir amusement and pursuit. For such, these are, probably, the\nwisest and best precepts that could be given. The whole of that\npart of this chapter, which inculcates an inactive retirement,\nis altogether calculated for another meridian, than that of our\ncountry. I have entirely omitted some of the passages, as not\nonly of erroneous general tendency, but altogether inapplicable\nto any order of things among us. But admitting this, and a few\nother trifling exceptions, I have been astonished at the charges\nwhich have been brought against the moral tendency of the general\nopinions of M. Droz.\n\n\nNote 16, page 73.\n\nThis short chapter upon health seems to me full of the soundest\npractical wisdom. Every one must be aware, that the wise pursuit\nof happiness must be preceded by the preserving of health. The\nwise ancients justly made the _mens sana in corpore sano_, to\nbe the condition, if not the essence of human happiness. Most\ntreatises upon health have oppressed the subject by too many, and\ntoo intricate rules. It would be difficult to add to the author\u2019s\nprecepts, brief as they are, so far as they relate to the moral and\nintellectual regimen necessary to health. I add a remark, or two,\ntouching some physical appliances, that should be appended to the\nmoral rules.\n\nSo far as my reading and observation extend, there are but three\ncircumstances, which have almost invariably accompanied health and\nlongevity. The favored persons have lived in elevated rather than\nin low and marshy positions; have been possessed of a tranquil and\ncheerful temperament, and active habits; and have been early risers.\n\nIt is related that the late King George the Third, who made the\ncauses of longevity a subject of constant investigation, procured\ntwo persons, each considerably over a hundred years of age, to\ndance in his presence. He then requested them to relate to him\ntheir modes of living, that he might draw from them, if possible,\nsome clue to the causes of their vigorous old age. The one had been\na shepherd, remarkably temperate and circumspect in his diet and\nregimen; the other a hedger, equally noted for the irregularity,\nexposure, and intemperance of his life. The monarch could draw\nno inference, to guide his inquiries, from such different modes\nof life, terminating in the same result. On further inquiry, he\nlearned, that they were alike distinguished by a tranquil easiness\nof temper, active habits, and early rising.\n\nAfter all the learned modern expositions of the causes of\ndyspepsia, I suspect that not one in a thousand is aware how much\ntemperance and moderation in the use of food conduce to health.\nThere are very few among us who do not daily consume twice the\namount of food, necessary to satisfy the requisitions of nature.\nThe redundant portion must weigh as a morbid and unconcocted mass\nupon the wheels of life. Every form of alcohol is unquestionably\na poison, slow or rapid, in proportion to the excess in which it\nis used. Disguise it is as we may, be the pretexts of indulgence\nas ingenious and plausible, as inclination and appetite can frame,\nit retains its intrinsic tendencies under every sophistication.\nWine, in moderation, is, doubtless, less deleterious than any\nof its disguises. In declining age, and in innumerable cases of\ndebility, it may be indicated as a useful remedy; but even here,\nonly as a less evil to countervail a greater. Pure water, all other\ncircumstances equal, is always a healthier beverage for common use.\nNext to temperance, a quiet conscience, a cheerful mind, and active\nhabits, I place early rising, as a means of health and happiness. I\nhave hardly words for the estimate which I form of that sluggard,\nmale or female, that has formed the habit of wasting the early\nprime of day in bed.--Laying out of the question the positive loss\nof life, the _magna pars dempta solido de die_, and that too of the\nmost inspiring and beautiful part of the day, when all the voices\nof nature invoke man from his bed; leaving out of the calculation,\nthat longevity has been almost invariably attended by early rising;\nto me, late hours in bed present an index to character, and an omen\nof the ultimate hopes of the person who indulges in this habit.\nThere is no mark, so clear, of a tendency to self-indulgence. It\ndenotes an inert and feeble mind, infirm of purpose, and incapable\nof that elastic vigor of will which enables the possessor always\nto accomplish what his reason ordains. The subject of this\nunfortunate habit cannot but have felt self-reproach, and a purpose\nto spring from his repose with the freshness of the dawn. If the\nmere indolent luxury of another hour of languid indulgence is\nallowed to carry it over this better purpose, it argues a general\nweakness of character, which promises no high attainment or\ndistinction.--These are never awarded by fortune to any trait, but\nvigor, promptness and decision. Viewing the habit of late rising,\nin many of its aspects, it would seem as if no being, that has\nany claim to rationality, could be found in the allowed habit of\nsacrificing a tenth, and that the most pleasant and spirit-stirring\nportion of life, at the expense of health, and the curtailing of\nthe remainder, for any pleasure which this indulgence could confer.\n\n\nNote 17, page 76.\n\nFrom personal experience and no inconsiderable range of\nobservation, I am convinced that the author has by no means\noverrated the influence of imagination upon health and disease. It\nis indeed astonishing, at this late period, when every physiologist\nand physician is ready to proclaim his own recorded observations\nupon the medicinal influence of the moral powers, the passions, and\nespecially the imagination, that so few medical men have thought\nit an object to employ them as elements of actual application.\nHitherto these unknown and undefined powers of life and death\nhave been in the hands of empirics, jugglers, mountebanks and\npretended dispensers of miraculous healing. It is, at the same\ntime, matter of regret, that scientific physicians, instead of\nquestioning their undeniable cures, and pouring attempted ridicule\nupon them, have not separated the true from the false, and sought\naccess to the real fountain of the efficacy of their practice,\nthe employment of confident faith, hope, and the unlimited agency\nof the all pervading power of the imagination. Many physicians\nare sufficiently wise, and endowed with character, to exercise\ncircumspection in giving their opinions and pronouncing upon\nthe prognostics of their patients. They regulate their words,\ncountenance and deportment with a caution and prudence which speak\nvolumes in regard to their conviction of the influence which\nimprudence in these points might have.\n\nIn fact, it is only necessary to observe the intense and painful\nearnestness with which the patient and the friends watch his\ncountenance and behaviour, to be aware what an influence may\nbe thus exerted. It is only requisite to understand with what\nprying anxiety the sick man questions those around him, what the\nphysician thinks and predicts of his case, to make him sensible\nhow vigilantly he should be on his guard, in spending his judgment\nrashly in the case. All this negative wisdom, in the application\nof moral means, is sufficiently common. Not to possess it, in a\nconsiderable degree, would indicate a physician unacquainted with\nthe most common etiquette of a sick chamber.\n\nBut, as yet, we see the positive employment of these means almost\nwholly interdicted by custom to regular physicians. We contend\nfor their exercise only within the limits of the most scrupulous\nveracity and the most severe discretion. What powers would he not\nexert, who, snatching these moral means from the hands of empirics,\nand who, to thorough acquaintance with all that can be known in\nregard to physical means, should join the wise and discriminating\naid of an imagination creating a healing world of hope and\nconfidence about the patient? Such a benefactor of our species\nwill, ere long, arise, who will introduce a new era into medicine.\n\nWho can doubt that implicit faith in the healing powers of prince\nHohenlohe may have wrought cures, even in cases of paralysis,\nwithout the least necessity for introducing the vague and\nmisapplied term, a miracle; or that some out of many persons in an\nasylum of paralytics would find themselves able to fly when bombs\nfell upon the roof of their receptacle?\n\nThe influence of a vigorous will upon the physical movements of\nour frame has scarcely been conjectured, much less submitted to\nthe scrutiny of experiment. Yet it would be easy, I think, to\nselect innumerable cases where, by its means, men have exerted\npowers previously unknown to themselves. We see the immediate\napplication of almost superhuman energy upon the access of frenzy\nto the patient; and this affords conclusive proof that, upon the\naddition of the due amount of excitement, the body and mind become\ncapable of incredible exertions, and yet sink into infantine\ndebility the moment that the excitement is withdrawn. Every one\nhas been made aware of what mere resolution can do, in sustaining\nthe frame in cases of cold, exposure, hunger and exhaustion. All\nthese instances are only different forms of proof, which might\nbe multiplied indefinitely, of the agency of moral powers upon\nphysical nature. Under similar influences, omens and predictions,\nin weak and superstitious minds, become adequate causes of their\nown completion. Since perfect knowledge alone can deliver the mind\nfrom more or less susceptibility of this influence, it is important\nthat it should be wisely directed to bear, as far as it may, upon\nthe imagination, in kindling it to confidence, cheerfulness and\nhope.\n\n\nNote 18, page 79.\n\n      \u2018Why drew Marseilles\u2019 good bishop purer breath,\n       When the air sickened, and each gale was death?\u2019\n\nBecause he was sustained by a cheerful reliance upon Providence,\na firm determination to do his duty, and have no fear of\nconsequences. The whole scope of my own observation, beside the\nsick bed, perfectly coincides with these views. I do not say that\nthere are not numberless exceptions. But of this I am confident,\nthat the general rule is, that persons who attend the sick and\ndying, in cases of epidemic disease of a mortal type, with a\nfearless and cheerful mind, escape; while the timid, who are\nalarmed and have an implicit belief in the danger of contagion,\nsuccumb.\n\n\nNote 19, page 83.\n\nIf there ever was an age when invalids and the suffering might\npromise themselves sympathy in the dolorous detail of their\nsymptoms, which is questionable, it certainly is not now, during\nthe era of labor-saving machinery, political economy, and the\nall-engrossing influence of money and corporate achievement. He who\nnow suffers from acute pain, in any form, will do wisely to summon\nall his strength and philosophy to suppress any manifestation in\nhis countenance and muscles, rather than task his eloquence in\nframing his tale of symptoms.\n\nThis whole chapter upon health abounds in the highest practical\nwisdom, and the hints in it might easily be expanded to a volume. I\nonly add, that I earnestly recommend a poem upon the same subject,\none, as it seems to me, among the most classical and beautiful\nin our language, and which has become strangely and undeservedly\nobsolete--Dr Armstrong\u2019s Art of Health.\n\n\nNote 20, page 83.\n\nHow often have similar thoughts pressed upon my mind, as I have\nstood over the bed of the sick and dying! Here is the peculiar\nempire of minds truly and nobly benevolent, where the head and main\nprop of a family is preparing to conflict with the last enemy:\nwhere pain and groans, terror and death, fill the foreground, and\nthe dim but inevitable perspective of desolation, struggle and\nwant, in contact with indifference and selfishness, opens in the\ndistance before the survivors. Let us thank God for religion.\nPhilosophy may inculcate stern endurance and wise submission; but\nknows not a fit and adequate remedy. The hopes and the example\nimparted by him _who went about doing good_, are alone sufficient\nfor the relief of such cases, of which, alas! our world is full.\n\n\nNote 21, page 86.\n\nNo view of human life is more consoling or just than that presented\nin these paragraphs. Yet no human calculation will ever reach\nthe sum of agony that has been inflicted by the jealousy, envy\nand heart-burning that have resulted from that most erroneous\npersuasion, that certain conditions and circumstances of life bring\nhappiness in themselves. Beautifully has the bible said, that \u2018God\nhas set one thing over against another\u2019--has balanced the real\nadvantages of the different human conditions. The result of my\nexperience would leave me in doubt and at a loss, in selecting\nthe condition which I should deem most congenial to happiness. I\nshould have to balance abundance of food, on the one hand, against\nabundance of appetite, on the other; the habit superinduced by the\nnecessity of being satisfied with a little, with the habit of being\ndisgusted with the trial of much. There are joys, numerous and\nvivid, peculiar to the rich; and others, in which none but those\nin the humbler conditions of life can participate. In the whole\nrange of the enjoyment of the senses, if there be any advantage,\nit belongs to the poor. The laws of our being have surrounded the\nutmost extent of human enjoyment with adamantine walls, which one\ncondition can no more overleap than another. It is wonderful to\nsee this admirable adjustment, like the universal laws of nature,\nacting everywhere and upon everything. Even in the physical world,\nwhat is granted to one country is denied to another; and the\nwanderer who has seen strange lands and many cities, in different\nclimes, only returns to announce, as the sum of his experience\nand the teaching of years, that light and shadow, comfort and\ndiscomfort, pleasure and pain, like air and water, are diffused in\nnearly similar measures over the whole earth.\n\n\nNote 21a, page 88.\n\nIt needs but little acquaintance with human condition to perceive,\nin the general adjustment of advantages settled by Providence,\nthat great proportions of them have been thrown into opposite\nscales, and so contrasted that the selection of one class implies\nthe rejection of the other. For example, smitten with the thousand\ntemptations of wealth, you are determined to be rich. Be it so.\nIndustry, frugality and the convergence of your faculties to\nthis single point will hardly fail to render you so. But then\nyou will not be so absurd as to envy another the fame of talents\nand acquirements which required absorbing devotion to pursuits\nincompatible with yours.\n\nYou are rich, and complain of satiety and _ennui_. Knew you not,\nwhen you determined to be rich, that poor people sing and dance\nabout their cabin fires? You have gained power and distinction\nand discovered the heartless selfishness of your competitors and\ndependents. Were you ignorant that friendship can only be purchased\nby friendship; and that, in selecting your all-engrossing pursuit,\nyou have precluded yourself from furnishing your quota of the\nreciprocity? The choices of life are alternatives. You may select\nfrom this scale, or that. But, in most cases, you cannot take from\nboth. How much murmuring would be arrested if this most obvious\ntruth were understood and men would learn to be satisfied with\ntheir alternative! Choose wisely and deliberately; and then quietly\nrepose on your choice. Say, \u2018I have this; another has that. I am\ncertain that I have my choice. I do not know but his condition was\nforced upon him.\u2019\n\n\nNote 22, page 89.\n\nIf I have ever allowed myself the indulgence of envy, it is after\nhaving tasted the pleasure of rewarding merit, or relieving\ndistress, in thinking how continually such celestial satisfactions\nare within the reach of the opulent. What a calm is left in the\nmind after having wiped away tears! What aspirations are excited\nin noting the joy and gratitude consequent upon misery relieved!\nHow delightful to recur to the remembrance during the vigils of\nthe night watches! How it expands the heart to reflect upon the\nconsciousness of the all powerful and all good Being, measuring the\ncircuit of the universe in doing good! Unhappily, the experience\nof all time demonstrates that the possession of opulence and power\nnot only has no direct tendency to inspire increased sensibility\nto such satisfactions, but has an opposite influence. For one,\nrendered more kind and benevolent by good fortune, how many become\ncallous, selfish and proud by it! Kindly and wisely has Providence\nseen fit to spare most men this dangerous trial.\n\n\nNote 23, page 92.\n\nThis chapter of the author, among the rest, has been obnoxious\nto severe strictures. I am sensible that the young require the\nexercise of cautious discretion in few questions more than in\nthis, \u2018How far is it wise to disregard public opinion?\u2019 To press\nthe point too far is to incur the reputation of eccentricity\nand arrogant confidence in our own judgment. Implicitly to\ncopy the expressions and habits of the multitude precludes all\npursuit of happiness by system; and reduces the whole inquiry to\nthe injunction, to walk with the rest, and add our _ennui_ and\ndisappointment to the mass of the unhappiness of all those who\nhave gone before. If certain modes appear to me, after the most\ndeliberate examination, conducive to my happiness, why should I\nbe deterred from adopting them, because I am not countenanced by\nthe general opinion and example of a crowd, each individual of\nwhich I should altogether reject as a teacher and an example? If\nI avow that the ten thousand, in all time, have formed the most\nerroneous judgments, touching the wisdom of human pursuits, why\nshould I continue blindly to copy their errors? He is certainly\nthe most fortunate man who, if an exact account of his sensations\nand thoughts could be cast into a sum at his last hour, would be\nfound to have enjoyed the greatest number of agreeable moments,\npleasurable sensations and happy reflections. If to court\nretirement, repose, the regulation of the desires and passions,\nand the cultivation of those affections which are best nurtured in\nthe shade, be the most certain route to happiness, why should I\nbe swayed from choosing that path by the suggestions of ambition,\navarice and the spirit of the world, which enjoin the common course?\n\nYet every one is, more or less, a slave to the prevalent fashions\nof thinking and acting. How much vile hypocrisy does this slavery\nwhich covers the face of society with a vast mask of semblance,\nengender? Contemplate the routine of all the professions which we\nmake and infringe in a single day, in the manifest violation of\nour inward thought and belief; and we must admit that the world\nagrees to enact a general lie, alike deceiving and deceived,\nthrough terror of being the first to revolt against the thraldom of\nopinion. The very persons, too, who cherish the profoundest secret\ncontempt for the judgment of the multitude, are generally the\nloudest and the first in decrying any departure from the standard\nof public opinion almost as an immorality.\n\nI would by no means desire to see those most dear to me arrogantly\nsetting at defiance received ideas and usages. These have, as the\nauthor justly remarks, a salutary moral sway in repressing the\ninfluence of the impudent and abandoned. I am not insensible to\nthe danger of following our independent judgment beyond the limits\nof a regulated discretion. But there is no trait in the young for\nwhich I feel a more profound respect, than the fixed resolve to\nconsult their own light, in setting the rules of their conduct and\nselecting their alternatives. A calm and reflecting independence,\nan unshaken firmness in encountering vulgar prejudices, is what I\nadmire as the evidence of strong character, fearless thinking and\ncapability of self-direction.\n\n\nNote 24, page 98.\n\nHow often must every reflecting mind have been led to similar\nviews of human nature! To form just estimates and entertain\nright sentiments of our kind, we must not contemplate men under\nthe action of the narrowness of sectarian hate, or through the\njaundiced vision of party feeling. We must see them in positions\nlike those so happily presented by the author, when great and\nsweeping calamities level men to the consciousness and the\nsympathies of a common nature, and a sense of common exposure to\nmisery, and open the fountains of generous feeling. Who has not\nseen men, on such occasions, forget their pride, their miserable\nquestions of rank and precedence, and meet with open arms and the\nmingled tears of gratitude and relief, persons, the view of whom\nunder other circumstances, would have called forth only feelings of\nscornful comparison and reckless contempt?\n\nThe incident of the hostile French and German posts is a singularly\ntouching one. In what a horrid light does it place the character\nand passions of princes, generals, conquerors and warriors, in\nall time, who for their measureless cupidity, or the whim of\ntheir ambition, have used these amiable beings, formed with\nnatural sympathies to aid and love each other, as the mechanical\nengines of their purposes, to meet breast to breast as enemies,\nand plunge the murderous steel into each others\u2019 hearts! Hence,\nrivers of life blood have flowed as uselessly as rain falls upon\nthe ocean! It is difficult to determine whether we ought most to\nexecrate the accursed ambition of the few, or despise the weak\nstupidity of the many who have been led, unresistingly, like\nanimals to the slaughter, only the more firmly to rivet the chains\nof the survivors. What a view does war present, of the miserable\nignorance, the brute stupidity of the mass of the species, and the\ndetestable passions of those called the great, in all time! Who\ndoes not exult to see the era, every day approaching, when men will\nbe too wise, too vigilant and careful of their rights to become\ninstruments in the hands of others; when the rational consciousness\nof their own predominant physical power shall be guided by wisdom,\nself-watchfulness and self-respect? Then, instead of being tamely\nled out to slay each other, when invoked to this detestable sport\nof kings, they will show their steel to their oppressors.\n\n\nNote 24a, page 99.\n\nI am as much impressed with the eloquence of this passage as\nwith its truth. I reserve more particular views of religion for\ncomments on the letter upon the subject. I wish to present in this\nplace, as consonant with the spirit of this passage, one view of\nreligion which has long been one of my most fixed and undoubting\nconclusions. It is, that man is a religious being, by the organic\nconstitution of his frame, still more than by any intellectual\nprocess of reasoning. I have no doubt, that a rightly organized\nand well endowed man, born and reared in a desert isle, without\never being brought into contact with man or any discipline to call\nforth reason or speech, would be subject to precisely the same\nemotions as, varied and moulded by the circumstances of birth and\neducation, constitute the substance of all the religions in the\nworld; in other words, that man is constituted a religious animal\nin the same way as he clearly is an animal with other instincts\nand passions. I am aware, that divines and moralists do not often\ninsist upon the religious instinct, as one of the most conclusive\nand convincing arguments (to me, at least,) of the soul\u2019s\nimmortality. It seems with them the favorite view to consider\nreligion a science that may be taught, like geometry or chemistry.\n\nTo me, this absorbing subject presents a very different aspect. I\nsee man everywhere religious in some form. The sentiment takes the\nmolding of his accidental circumstances. It is poetry, enthusiasm,\neloquence, bravery; but in every form an aspiration after the vast,\nillimitable, eternal, shadowy conceptions of an unknown hereafter,\nthat the senses have not embodied. It is rational or fanciful, it\nis respectable or superstitious, it is a pure abstraction or a\ngorgeous appeal to the senses, according to one\u2019s country, training\nand temperament. But man, whether he be a dweller in the far isles\nof the sea, or in the crowded mart, whether christian or savage,\nis everywhere found, in some form, invoking a God and reposing the\nhopes and affections of his worn heart in another and a better\nworld; and extending his faith to an immortal life and an eternal\nsphere of action.\n\nInstead of searching for this universal principle with\nmetaphysicians, pronouncing upon it with dogmatists, or deducing it\nfrom creeds, or creeds from it, I behold in it the same unwritten\nrevelation which we call instinct. Vague and undefined as is this\nlaw, and questioned by some as is even its existence, it announces\nto us one of the most impressive and beautiful homilies upon the\ntruth and goodness of the Author of our being. It may be called\nthe scripture of the lower orders, guiding them, with unerring\ncertainty, to their enjoyments and their end. Beasts feel it, and\ngraze the plain. Birds feel it, and soar in the air. Fishes feel\nit, and dart along their liquid domain; each feeding, moving,\nresting, playing and perpetuating its kind, according to its\norganic laws. Winter comes upon the gregarious tribes of water\nfowls enjoying themselves in the Canadian lakes. They listen to\nthis call from heaven, and mount the autumnal winds; and without\nchart or compass, by a course to which that of circumnavigators\nis devious, they sail to the shores of the south, where a softer\natmosphere and new supplies of food await them. It leads the young\none of these animals, scarcely yet disengaged from the shell, to\npatter its bill in the dry sand, impatiently to search for water\nbefore it has yet seen it. It creates in the new born infant a\npurpose to search for its supplies in the yet untasted fountains of\nthe maternal bosom. It guides all the lower orders of being through\nthe whole mysterious range of their peculiar habits and modes of\nlife. Under its influence, animals and men exercise powers which\ntranscend the utmost efforts of our reason. Who can tell me why the\nduckling plunges into the water with the shell on its head? Who can\ninform me how the affectionate house dog, blindfolded and conveyed\nin utter darkness in a carriage to a distance of fifty leagues,\nthe moment he is emancipated, returns by a more direct route than\nthat by which he came? There would be no use in presenting the\nmost extended details of these developments of instinct through\nthe whole range of animated nature. Every one knows that wherever\nwe discern them, either in the structure or habits of the animal,\nor both, they are indications of unerring guidance, the voice of\neternal and unswerving truth, which, as soon as promulgated, is\nreceived as the parental counsel of the Author of nature.\n\nHe who could interpret the language and the gestures of the lower\norders would see in the structure and manifested wants of fishes,\nthat water was provided as a home for them, had he seen them in the\nair. When he had noted the movements and heard the cries of the new\nborn infant, he would be in no doubt, that the nutriment in the\nmaternal bosom was stored for it somewhere. Seeing the structure,\nthe starting pinions and plumage of the unfledged bird in its nest,\nhe could be at no loss in reasoning, that as these indications of\ncontrivance for other modes of life were lost in its present manner\nof existence, it was intended for movements, where pinions and\nplumage would avail it.\n\nAs certain as these instincts and indications are the pledged\nverity of the Author of nature, that a sphere is provided for\nthe exercise of these undeveloped powers, and a corresponding\ngratification for these instinctive desires, so sure as they\npoint out, in a language, which can neither deceive nor be\nmistaken, the aim and end of the animal to which they belong,\nso sure, if religion be an instinctive sentiment, and the hope,\nand the persuasion of another existence result from the organic\nconstitution of our nature, there must be another life. That it is\nso, the usages and modes of all people that have yet been known,\nthe people of the first ages, and the last, the people of the\nhighest refinement, and those, who scarcely know the use of fire,\nhave concurred to prove to us. Superficial travellers, indeed, have\ntold us of newly discovered tribes, who had no visions of a God--a\nworship, or an hereafter. Other travellers have followed them, and\nobserved better, and discovered, that their predecessors based the\nfact on their own ignorance. They have been found to belong to the\ngeneral analogy, and to look to\n\n      \u2018Some happier land in depth of woods embraced;\n       Some lovelier island in the watery waste.\u2019\n\nIt seems to me, that this universal agreement of religious ideas is\nthe most unequivocal manifestation, that the sentiment of religion\nis an instinct, that is exhibited in the whole range of animated\nnature. If so, it is the offered pledge of the divine veracity,\nthat the soul is immortal; and that as certain as the instinct of\nmigrating birds is proof, that the milder skies which they seek,\nexist, and are prepared for them, so surely the undeveloped powers\nof the spirit, which have no range on the earth, have a country\nprepared also for them. Our aspirations, our _longings after\nimmortality_, every mode of worship, and every form of faith--are\nthe rudiments, the germs, the starting pinions of the embryo\nspirit, which is to escape from its nest at death, and fly in the\ncelestial atmosphere, in which it was formed to move.\n\nTo me these universal religious manifestations are proofs, that\nreligion springs not, as some suppose, from tradition; or, as\nothers think, from reasoning. It is a sentiment. It is an inwrought\nfeeling in our mental constitution, an unwritten, universal, and\neverlasting gospel, pointing to God and immortality. Bring the most\nuninstructed peasant, who has seen nothing of the earth, but its\nplains, in sight of Chimborazo. The thrill of awe and sublimity,\nthat springs within him at the view, and lifts his spirit above\nthe blue summits to the divinity, is one of the forms, in which\nthis sentiment acts. The natural mental movements, in view of the\nillimitable main, of the starry firmament, of elevated mountains,\nof whatever is vast in dimension, irresistible in power, terrible\nin the exercise of anger, in short, all those emotions, which we\ncall the sublime, are modified actings of the religious sentiment.\nJustly has the author pronounced the universality of these ideas\nthe highest testimony to the elevation of human nature. It is the\nmost impressive and interesting attribute of the soul, that it is\nsubject to these impulses. It is a standing index, that the godlike\nstranger, imprisoned in clay, has, inwrought in its consciousness,\nindelible impressions of its future destiny.\n\n\nNote 25, page 101.\n\nWhoever philosophically considers the constitution of the human\nmind--how much we are the creatures of our circumstances, how much\nwe are blown about by impulse and passion, the dimness of our own\nmental vision upon most subjects, the narrow limit, which separates\nbetween truth and falsehood, right and wrong, and moreover, that\nwe ourselves view everything through the coloring of our own pride\nand prejudice--will perceive at once, that, under all circumstances\nof error and even of crime, men are quite as worthy of pity, as\nof vindictive blame. A little, cold and selfish mind invariably\nfinds much matter for bitter censure in every act, that, according\nto its own chart, is an aberration. On the contrary, nothing, in\nmy estimate, so decidedly marks a generous and noble, as well as\nan enlightened and a philosophic spirit, as the disposition to be\nindulgent in its construction of the views and conduct of others,\nand to interpret all by the comment of palliation and kindness,\nwhenever the case will admit of them. Great minds fail not to be\nconscious what a weak, miserable compound of vanity, impulse,\nignorance and selfishness is that lord of creation, that passive\nmolding of circumstances, which we call man. Of course in calmly\nscanning his views and conduct, all other sensations than those\nof pity and kindness, die away within him. As the human mind is\nexalted by its light, and its intrinsic elevation towards the\ndivinity, in the same proportion it soars above the mists of its\nown passions and prejudices, and sees little in humanity to inspire\nother feelings, than those of compassion and benevolence. What is\nthe view of human nature, presented to a wise and good man?\n\n      \u2018\u2019Tis but to know how little can be known,\n       To see all others\u2019 faults, and feel our own.\u2019\n\n\nNote 26, page 102.\n\nI am not certain, that the real spirit of tolerance has made so\nmuch progress in this age, as is commonly imagined. Who among us\nadmits in practice, as well as theory, that the mind is passive in\nreceiving evidence, and forming conclusions, which it cannot shape,\nexcept according to impressions, which it has much less power to\nexclude, or evade, than is generally believed? Who among us acts\non the conviction, that errors of opinion are almost invariably\ninvoluntary? Every view of human nature, and the laws of the human\nmind ought to inspire us with an unlimited feeling of tolerance\ntowards those who differ from us in opinion, howsoever widely. We\ncannot fail so to feel, if we reflect that, had we been in their\nsituation, and under their circumstances, and they in ours, our\nviews might have been reversed. Yet it is scarcely possible to\nconverse with any one a few moments, without starting them by\nsome opposing opinion, that jars with their excited feelings and\na certain amount of estrangement is the result. Who can conduct a\ndisputed point, in politics or religion, with an unruffled temper?\nAngry disputation is only another form of intolerance. If we\nnarrowly inspect the actings of human nature, we shall discover,\nthat the whole world is composed of individuals, almost every one\nof whom thinks he has a right to be offended with every other one,\nwho does not adopt his opinions.\n\nIt is very true, that the age of actual persecution, by fines,\nimprisonment and death, is gone by. But this results rather\nfrom practical political progress of ideas, than from a settled\nconviction that no one mind has a right to find, in the opinions\nof another mind, cause of offence. Whoever cannot look upon the\nmost opposite faith and opinions of his neighbor, in religion, in\npolitics, and the ordinary concerns of life, without any feeling of\ntemper and bitterness, in view of that difference, is in heart and\nspirit intolerant. In this view, who can justly and fully lay claim\nto toleration? The whole world is divided into millions of little\nparties and sects, often finding the bitterest germs of contention\nin the smallest differences. Scarcely one in ten thousand, of all\nthese sects and parties, has real philosophic magnanimity enough to\nperceive, that all other men have as much claim for indulgence to\ntheir opinions, as he exacts for his own.\n\n\nNote 27, page 102.\n\nIt would be amusing, if such important consequences did not flow\nfrom the error, to perceive, how much weight most people attach\nto the sect and party to which the persons, about whom they are\nforming an estimate, belong. The externals, the deportment, dress\nand manner are often strongly influenced by these matters; but\nthe mental complexion or temperament far less than is commonly\nsupposed. We meet with people, every day, of the most exclusive and\nbigoted creeds, who act liberally: and again with people, who have\nmuch liberality and catholicism in their mouths, and very little\nin their temper and spirit. I have met with liberal and illiberal\npeople, in almost equal proportions, in all the sects, parties\nand denominations, with which I have been acquainted. Still, I do\nnot, as from these remarks it might be inferred that I do, deem\nerror, even in abstract opinions, such as those which appertain\nto religious and metaphysical subjects, as of no consequence. But\nI have not time, nor have I place, in a note, for explaining my\nconvictions on this subject.\n\n\nNote 27a, page 104.\n\nAn indiscreet and exaggerating zeal often injures the cause it\nwould wish to serve. The gospel is best sustained by its own\nunborrowed glory, and is prejudiced by adventitious appendages.\nI have often heard ministers declare, from the pulpit, that the\nduty of forgiveness, and of loving and doing good to enemies was\na peculiar discovery of the gospel, a precept unknown before. We\nhave never considered it among the objects of the mission of our\nLord, to reveal a new code of morals. The grand eternal principles\nof this science were originally engraven on the heart. Man could\nnot have existed in society without them. Whoever has read the\nelaborate and eloquent treatises of heathen moralists, will\nperceive, that there was little left incomplete in the code; and\nthat these sublime virtues were eulogized, as beautiful and just\nin theory, if not to be expected in practice. It is the spirit,\nunction and tenderness of gospel inculcation, that is unique and\noriginal. The heathen ethical writers had not failed to enjoin it\nupon the members of communities, to aid and love one another. But\nit is only necessary to glance upon the apostolic epistles, to see\nthat Christians were a new and peculiar people, bound together by\ncords of affection, altogether unknown in the previous records of\nthe human heart. What tenderness, what love, _stronger than death_,\nwhat sublime disinterestedness! How reckless to the sordid motives\nof ambition and interest, which ruled the surrounding world! We\nscarcely need other evidence, that this simplicity of love, so\nunlike aught the world had seen before, was not an affection of\nearthly mold; and that this new and strong people were not bound\ntogether by ties, which had relation to the grossness of earthly\nbonds. To me there is something inexpressibly delightful and of\nwhich I am never weary, in contemplating the originality and\nsimplicity of early Christian affection, nor is it one of the\nfeeblest testimonies to the glory and divinity of the gospel.\n\nFor the rest, I have much abridged the paragraphs, to which this\nnote alludes, and have interpolated some expressions, not found in\nthe original--because I would not allow myself to leave anything\nequivocal, touching my own views of the importance of Christian\nmorals and example.\n\nIt would be useless to add to the beautiful views, presented by\nthe author, of the disposition to oblige, and the necessity of\ncultivating modesty, and an equal and serene temper. One cannot\nenlarge upon these beaten topics, as he has foreseen, without\nrunning into common-places. These virtues are pre\u00ebminently their\nown reward. Whoever chooses to indulge the opposite tempers has\nonly to reflect, that he assumes the thankless office of becoming\na self-tormentor, and injures no one so much as himself. Of these\nfierce passions, the heathen poets have given us an affecting\nemblem in the undying vultures, gnawing upon the ever growing\nentrails of Tityus. If you would form the sublimest conceptions\nof the eternal and underived satisfaction of the divinity,\ncultivate dispositions to oblige, and seize occasions to practise\nbeneficence. If you would image more impressive ideas of the\ntorment of demons than poets have dreamed, muse upon injuries;\ncultivate envy and revenge, and wish that you had the bolts of the\nthunderer, only that you might hurl them upon your foes. If you\nwould experience the eternal gnawing of the vulture allow yourself\nin the constant indulgence of your temper.\n\n\nNote 28, page 109.\n\nTo those, who have already assumed this tie, or contemplate\nassuming it, not a word need be said upon the most worn of all\nthemes, the paramount influence of marriage, beyond all other\nrelations, in imparting the coloring of brightness or gloom to\nall subsequent life. The place, in which the only satisfactions\nof life, that are worth any serious pursuit, are to be found, is\nwithin the domestic walls. Honor, fame, wealth, luxury, literary\ndistinction, everything is extrinsic, and hollow, everything the\nmere mockery and shadow of joy, but the comfort of a quiet and\naffectionate home. Whoever does not share this faith with me, will\nhardly be enlightened to the true sources of enjoyment by any\nlucubrations of mine. Instead of details and declamation upon this\ntruth, I present an unvarnished, unexaggerated view, an abstract,\nif I may so say, of the circumstances, under which the greater\nnumber of marriages are consummated in our country, and I imagine,\nin most civilized countries. It may not embrace the exact train of\nthe incidents connected with every case; but will serve, in the\nphrase of the makers of calendars, \u2018without material variation,\u2019\nas an outline of the history of those courtships that terminate in\nmatrimony. What wonder, that wedded life is so often unhappy!\n\nI am compelled to believe, that very few marriages take place in\nconsequence of such an intimate acquaintance of the parties with\neach other\u2019s unsophisticated and interior character, as to justify\nthe chances of affection and domestic happiness. The first adverse\ncircumstance is, that both are constantly on such a trial to make\na show of wit, good temper, and manners, as to render the whole\nscene, from commencement to close, a drama, in which all is acting;\nin which there is no admission to the real life behind the scenes,\nuntil after marriage. How often does the actor or actress, who\nsuccessfully personated a wit, and an angel, detect in the other\nparty a simpleton, a brute, or a termagant! The walk of life, in\nwhich they are found, may vary the shades, but it changes not the\nnatural circumstances of a picture, which, in its broader features,\napplies alike to elevated and humble life.\n\nThe parties, in the bloom of life, in all the excitement of\njuvenile buoyancy, moving in the illumined atmosphere of\nimagination, meet at the party, ball-room, assembly, church, or\nother place of concourse, for which the young dress, to look\naround, and be gazed upon. They are clad in their gayest, and stand\non their best. No airs, or graces, that mothers, or friends, or\nsociety, or their Chesterfield, or their imaginations can suggest,\nare pretermitted. No attempted inflictions are spared from any\nrelentings of mercy. Many gratuitous nods and smiles and remarks,\nand much odious affectation, inspired by the love of conquest, pass\nwell enough in the tinsel illusion of the scene and circumstances.\nAccident brings the couple into contact. They sing, dance, walk,\nconverse, or, in some of these ways, are thrown together. Or,\nperhaps, some officious mediator reports, to the one, flattering\nremarks made by the other. The first impulses to the acquaintance\nare those of vanity, and the instinctive attraction of persons,\nso situated, towards each other. A vague and momentary liking,\nwhich might be effaced, as easily as mists vanish in the sun, is\nthe result. The lady, from the delicacy of her organization, and\nthe quickness of her perceptions, is the first aware of the new\nstate of mutual feeling; and by conjoining a happy combination of\ncoquetry, shyness, and encouragement, adds fuel to the kindling\nspark. They converse apart, and the masonic pressure of hands\nis interchanged. Compliments ensue, more or less polished, and\neloquent, according to their native readiness and artificial\ntraining. Vanity comes in with her legion of auxiliaries, and,\nin the same proportion as memory invests this intercourse with\npleasant sensations and agreeable associations, conversation with\nother persons, between whom and themselves these processes have\nnot commenced, becomes tasteless and irksome; and ennui in all\nother society does its part to put imagination in action. They\nfind themselves weary and sad in separation. Fancy runs riot and\nbegins to weave her fairy tissue, and to build her oriental bowers.\nThe parties are now in love, as they believe, and as the world\npronounces. Now commence the hours of poetry and sentimentality;\nand the spring time of their new born passion. Not a moment, for\ndiscriminating observation of each other\u2019s character, has yet\noccurred.\n\nThe freshness of the vernal inclination acquires the fervor\nof settled and summer passion. The preliminaries of form are\ncommenced; and under such associations, and with such mutual\ninclinations, incompatibility, unfitness, opposition of friends,\nall obstacles that are not absolutely insurmountable, disappear.\nWhat parent can resist the impassioned eloquence of a child, or\ncontemplate for a moment the prospect of inflicting the agony of\na disappointed and hopeless love! Have they measured each other\u2019s\nunderstanding and good sense? No: this requires a discrimination,\nfor which in the fever, the delirium of the senses, they have\nno capacity. Know they aught of each other\u2019s worth and good\ntemper? No. Lovers find nothing to jar their temper, or try their\ndisposition. Surrounded by a halo of imagination, everything about\nthem is invested with its brilliancy. The silliest remark of the\n_inamorata_ sounds in the ears of the lover, like the response of\nan oracle; and he is astonished and enraged that all others do not\nsee, and hear with him. Everything that is said becomes wisdom,\nand everything done noble and graceful. Who has not heard all\nthese ascriptions, all these extravagant eulogies, applied to a\nfair female, uttering nothing, and incapable of uttering anything,\nbut voluble and vapid nonsense; or worse, ebullitions of envy,\ndetraction and bad feeling! Meanwhile, the parties, enveloped in\nillusion, would not see real character, if they could; and could\nnot, if they would. Is this extravagant, or exaggerated? Let the\nwell known fact, that sensible men oftener marry fools, and gifted\nwomen coxcombs, than otherwise, be received as evidence, that this\ngreat transaction is generally commenced, and terminated under a\nspell, in which the actors see nothing, as it really is, and as\nit appears to disinterested spectators. After having united many\nhundred pairs myself, and seen all aspects of society, such seem\nto me the most common circumstances appended to the beginning,\nprogress and issue of courtship, in its common forms.\n\nWhen ambitious views, the lust of wealth, and purposes of\naggrandizement, are the prompting incitements, the order of\ncircumstances indeed may be essentially varied, without much\naltering the result. The excitement of the senses and the illusions\nof the imagination give place to these more sordid motives. They\nare, however, equally absorbing with the former. The faculties,\nhaving converged to the point of cautious and keen speculation,\nallow no greater scope, and furnish no happier facilities, for\nnoting the development of understanding, character and temper,\nthan in the other predicament. The appetite for money, and the\nburning of ambition may as effectually blind the aspirant to the\nsilliness and bad temper of her who is seen through the flattering\nmedium of his plans and his hopes, as could his vanity and his\nyouthful inclinations. How can a person be expected to compare,\nand discriminate traits, and the almost imperceptible lights and\nshades of character, whose whole mind is intensely concentrated\non the chances of his speculation, the fear of rivals, the danger\nof mishap, and the means of hastening the issue? Who, under such\ncircumstances, inquires about the elements of happiness or misery,\nthe good sense, the regulated temper, the discretion, health,\ntemperament, and habits, that appertain to the means, by which a\nfortune and a name are to be obtained? These are passed by, as\nsubordinate considerations. Suppose inquiries touching these points\nto glance through the mind. Suppose the speculator to have lucid\nglimpses, and some startling premonitions of the importance of\nsettled and discriminating views, in relation to these matters;\ncontemplated through golden associations and in the glare of\nambitious hopes, they will be hardly likely to undergo a very\nsevere or sifting scrutiny.\n\nThe marriage, whether of love, of ambition, of convenience or mere\nanimal impulse, takes place. The music and dancing are no more,\nand the brilliancy of the bridal torch is extinct, and with those\nphysical _parapharnalia_, one mental illusion after another begins\nto melt into thin air. The discriminating faculties, judgment and\nthe critical vision, now become morbidly sensitive and severe,\nsince satiety and the extinction of fancy and the imagination have\nleft these capacities to unchecked action, beholding the object\nof their scrutiny continually, and close at hand. The medium\nbecomes as unnaturally dark, as it was unnaturally light before.\nA thousand circumstances, never dreamed of in the philosophy of\nlove and courtship, crowd upon this disposition to cynical and\nbilious criticism. Manifestations of temper and character, that\nonce indicated to the lover, amiability and intelligence, become,\nto the moody husband or the discontented wife, marks of a weak\nunderstanding and a bad heart; and in proportion, as they nourish\ndespondency and disappointment, they destroy the capability of\nindulgence and forbearance, and resist efforts to soothe, and\ncorrect, and conciliate.\n\nIn proportion as they become dissatisfied with each other, by\na mental progress, exactly the reverse of that which brought\nthem together, home is enveloped with associations of gloom. The\nimagination finds sunshine in every other place; and every other\nperson is sensible and attractive, but the one they have sworn to\nlove and honor until death.\n\nThere are those who will see in these revolting representations, a\ncoloring of misanthropy; and pronounce this statement of the case\nharsh beyond nature. I would it were so; for, unless I deceive\nmyself, I love my kind; and my only object is, to impress upon\nthe young the importance of inquiring, when contemplating this\nvital and all important transaction, whether they see things in\nthe clear light of truth, and as they will certainly appear after\nthe delirium of love has passed away; or under the nameless and\nnumberless illusions of that fever of the senses, of vanity, and\ninstinct, too often miscalled by the name of love. I much mistake,\nif the greater portion of the domestic infelicity, which is loudly\ncharged upon the wedded state in the abstract, is not owing to\nthis fascination, this incapacity to examine the only elements,\non which the happiness of a family must depend. All I would say,\nis, before entering on this union, remember, that it is easier to\nrepent before, than after the evil is without a remedy. Pause and\nscrutinize; and let not the first glimpse of real light open your\neyes to your true condition, when it is irretrievable.\n\nI am as well aware, as the author can be, that there are many more\nhappy marriages, than vulgar opinion allows, and that even in\nthose, which are not reputed happy, in which the parties themselves\nhave had their criminating and complaining _\u00e9claircissements_,\nthere is often much more affection, than has been allowed to exist.\nSuch is generally found to be the case, in the numberless attempted\nseparations, which prove abortive, when the final alternative is to\nbe adopted. I know, too, that the history of the manifestation of\nconjugal affection is one of the most affecting and honorable to\nhuman nature, that has ever been exhibited. No union of tenderness\nand fortitude has ever been displayed in the annals of human\nnature, that can be compared with the maternal love and conjugal\naffection of a devoted wife. Of this, if I had space, and my scope\nwere different, I could cite numerous, and most impressive examples.\n\n\nNote 28a, page 110.\n\nI beg leave to enter my utter dissent to this doctrine. It seems\nfrom a note appended to this chapter of the author, that dislike to\nfemale authorship has been carried to the most ridiculous lengths\nin France. This is the more astonishing, as no country has produced\nso many admirable female writers, many of them peculiarly noted\nfor possessing the charm of simplicity, and freedom from pedantry\nand affectation. A woman, not less than a man, is more amiable,\ninteresting and capable of sustaining any relation with honor and\ndignity, in proportion as she is more instructed and enlightened.\nIt is to female pedants only, that the ridiculous question of the\nFrench academy, whether a reputable woman could write a book,\nought to apply. If a woman really deserves a crown of laurels, it\nsits more gracefully on her brow, than any chaplet of roses that\npoet ever dreamed of. But let us have real, unpresuming knowledge,\nwithout pedantry or affectation, either of which is always odious\nin man or woman, but certainly, as it seems to me, most so in\nwoman.\n\n\nNote 30, page 115.\n\nNothing, however, is more common, than this contemptible ambition\nof wives to govern their husbands. It is said that there are\ncoteries of wives, who impart the rules in masonic conclave. Be\nit so. Whoever exults in having usurped this empire, glories in\nher shame. If there be any axiom universally applying to this\npartnership, it is, that the interest and reputation of the concern\nmust be identical. However much a wife may humble her husband, in\ngeneral estimation, by presenting him in the light of a weak and\ndocile subject, with all sensible persons, she humbles herself\nstill more. If the slave is contemptible, the tyrant is still more\nso. For the rest, this chapter contains more truth and impressive\neloquence upon this all important theme, than I have elsewhere met\nin so small a compass.\n\n\nNote 31, page 117.\n\nI present you with the following development of these new emotions,\nwhich, I hope, you will not find amiss. \u2018William and Yensi were as\nhappy in this vale, as man can hope to be here below. They would\nhave requested nothing more of heaven, than thousands of years of\nthis half dreaming, yet satisfying existence. A daughter was born\nto them, a desert flower of exquisite beauty even from its birth.\nNew and unmoved fountains of slumbering and mysterious affections\nwere awakened in the deepest sanctuary of their hearts. In the\nclear waters of the brook, which chafed over pebbles, turfed with\nwild sage and numberless desert flowers, under the overhanging\npines, in the tops of which the southern breeze played the grand\ncathedral service of the mountain solitudes, William performed, as\npriest, father and Christian, the touching ceremony of baptizing\nhis babe. Adding the name Jessy to that of the mother, it was\ncalled Jessy Yensi. The sacred rite was performed on the sabbath,\nas the sun was sinking in cloud-curtained majesty behind the\nwestern mountains. The domestics, Ellswatta and Josepha, looked\non with awe. William read the Scriptures, prayed, and sang a hymn;\nbaptized his babe, and handed the nursling of the desert to Yensi.\nAs she received the beloved infant in her arms, after it had been\nconsecrated, as an inmate in the family of the Redeemer, while\ntears of tenderness and piety filled her eyes and fell from her\ncheeks, she declared, that she would no longer invoke the universal\nTien, that the God of William and her babe should be her God,\nand that they would both call on the same name, when they prayed\ntogether for the dear babe even unto death.\u2019--_Shoshonee Valley_,\nvol. i. p. 52, 53.\n\nOf the emotions excited by all the incidents between the cradle\nand the grave, none can be compared for depth and tenderness to\nthose, called forth by the birth and baptism of the first child of\nan affectionate and happy husband and wife. Those, for whom this\nwork is more peculiarly intended, will be aware, to what incident\nin our common stock of remembrances the above extract refers.\nDelightful sentiments, and yet deeply tinged with sadness! What\na mystery is this conjoined miniature image of the parents, the\nbabe itself! What a mystery the world with its mingled lights and\nshadows, upon which the feeble stranger is entering! What a mystery\nthe unknown bourne to which it is bound! What a mystery the God,\nto whom it is consecrated! Callous and cold must be the heart of\nparents, that this mutual pledge of love and duty will not unite in\none unchangeable sentiment of love and identity of interest, until\ndeath.\n\n\nNote 33, page 122.\n\nMy views touching the modes, in which the best results of education\nare to be obtained, whether just or erroneous, have at least\nthe advantage of being entirely practical. I am sufficiently\nconvinced, that there must be an adequate and happy organization\nand mental development, without which no education, however wise\nand assiduous, will ever effect anything more, than mediocrity of\ncharacter and acquirement. In the present state of public opinion,\nas great mistakes are made by expecting too much from the training\nof schools, as were formerly committed by attempting too little.\nThe opulent, and people in the higher walks especially, are tempted\nby their condition to believe, that wealth and distinction can\npurchase, and even command mind, and that cultivation of it, by\nwhich more enlarged and distinguished minds differ from the common\nmeasure of intellect; a mistake, than which no other is more\nuniversally, and palpably taught by every day\u2019s experience. The\nAuthor of our being reserves, and will never impart his own high\nprerogative, to bestow mind; and he as often dispenses the noblest\nand richest endowment of it in the lower, as in the upper walks\nof life; though, as we have seen, he has indicated, in the order\nof nature, a process of unlimited improvement of organization and\nendowment.\n\nBut the substratum of a practical and well endowed mind, to begin\nwith, being granted, I beg leave to add my conviction to that of M.\nDroz, a conviction, which, as I think, will resume its authority\nand influence, when most of the present tedious and endless\nsystems and projects of education will have passed into their\nmerited oblivion. It is, that strong, latent and distinguished\ncharacter and acquirement receive in domestic education, that\npredominant and fashioning direction, which they retain through\nlife. The peculiar impress of a parent, a family-friend, a single\ntutor, is often as distinctly marked upon the whole after life\nof the scholar, that becomes truly distinguished, as though he\nhad been wax in the hands of a moulder. The numerous tutors of\nopulent families, and of public institutions, seldom impart the\nsame advantage. Their different views and modes of discipline\ncountervail, and neutralize each other. The Greeks and the great\nRomans taught at home, the master being a member and an honored\none of the family. The master and the pupil walked, conversed,\nand pursued their amusements together; and the sweet associations\nof home and the shade and freedom from restraint were conjoined\nwith the lessons. When the good Plutarch paints to us, with his\ninimitable _naivet\u00e9_, one of his favorite characters, he indicates\nas his first felicity, that it was his lot to have the training\nof an Aristotle, or some similar worthy. Consult the English\nPlutarch for the same fact. Could all the commencing circumstances\nof most of the great men, who have lived, be exactly traced, we\nshould find the same truth disclosed. That the development of\nstrong inclination for books, studies and literature depends\nalmost entirely on domestic habits and pursuits, the family, in\nwhich _our_ common remembrances centre, is a striking example.\nDuring the years, in which the minds of this family received their\nunchangeable impress, the members were almost as vagrant in their\nmodes, as the Tartars. All their education, except domestic, was\nexceedingly imperfect and desultory. Books were often wanting;\nadequate teachers always. But the love of the parents for books\nand reading was a simple, natural, unaffected and intense impulse.\nThey loved the thing for its own sake, and independent of all its\nresults. The first instruments of pleasure, and things of estimated\nvalue, that greeted the infant eyes of the children, were books;\nnot furniture, dress, and the imposing ostentation of a modern\nparlor. Pleasant conversations, disputes, between laughter and\nseriousness, about these books, were the first conversations that\ngreeted their listening ears. These conversations were perceived\nto be of deep and heart-felt interest, and as little mixed with\npedantry and formality, as the manifestations of instinct. The\nchildren saw, that to those, they most loved, admired, and were\ndisposed to imitate, books were the grand sources of interest,\nconverse and enjoyment. They as naturally imbibed similar tastes,\nas, to use a coarse illustration, the children of savages learn\nto love hunting. The first thing for which they contended, and\nwith which they wished to play, was a book, or a picture. Their\nfirst lispings were trials of skill, touching the comparative\nprogress, which they had made in their knowledge of the contents\nof these books, and the application of it to present use. These\ntrials they saw to be the chief points of interest and amusement\nfor their parents. Thus, habits of reading and application _grew\nwith their growth and strengthened with their strength_; and many\na criticism, if not erudite and profound, at least eliciting\nhearty praise and laughter, passed away unrecorded in their\ndomestic privacy. Their neighbors admired, and, I fear, envied,\nand calumniated; but could not but take astonished note of such\nresults in a family without wealth, without the common appliances,\nwhich themselves could so much better afford, and which they had\nbeen accustomed to consider the only price, at which intellectual\nimprovement could be purchased. It was placed beyond question, or\ndenial, that the members of that family had right views, quiet\nand unawed self-respect, and could converse rationally, upon\nevery other topic, as well as books; that tact and discrimination\npervaded their manifestations of thought and pursuit; and that they\npossessed an inexhaustible source of amusement, and satisfaction\nindependent of wealth, fashion, society, distinction, or any\nexternal resource whatever--the habit of internal reflection,\ncomparison and pleasant converse with themselves.\n\nParents, when you have imparted to your children habits and tastes,\nlike these, you have bequeathed them an intellectual fortune, which\nfew changes can take away; and which is as strictly independent, as\nanything earthly can be. You have unlocked to their gratuitous use\nperennial fountains of innocent and improving enjoyment. You have\nsecured them forever against the heart-wearing gloom of _ennui_,\ninsufficiency to themselves, and slavish dependence upon others for\namusement. Spend as lavishly as you may, in multiplying fashionable\ninstructers, and blazon, as much as you will, the advantages of\nyour children; if they do not perceive, while the rudiments of\ntheir taste and habits are forming, that you consider literature,\nscience and the improvement of intellect a matter of paramount\ninterest and importance, you will never cause their stream to\nflow higher, than your fountain. An occasional parlor lecture, or\na high wrought eulogy, will not convince them, or avail to your\npurpose. They must see this preference, as all others, which they\nwill be inclined to copy, manifested in your whole deportment and\nconversation.\n\nBut, while I am convinced, that parents will find efforts to\ntrain their children to be highly intellectual, rowing against\nthe current, unless they evince, themselves, by their habitual\nexamples, that they consider it a higher attainment, to possess\nliterature and conversational powers, than fashion, or wealth or\nthe common objects of pursuit, in other words, that all efficient\neducation must be essentially domestic, I would not be understood\nto undervalue public schools and colleges. I am aware, that in\nthese places are best imparted the knowledge and adroitness\nthat fit them for the keen scramble of ambitious competition.\nBut in regard to those boys who leave their competitions behind\nthe classes of the university, I think on examination, we shall\nfind, that the germ and the stamina of this progress were early\ncommunicated by instruction and example at home. At table, around\nthe evening fire, in the Sabbath walk, in the common family\nintercourse, in the intervals of the toil of your profession,\nwhatever it be, the taste and the permanent inclination for\nliterature and intellectual cultivation are imparted. This can\nnever be, if behind all your eulogy of these things, you discover,\nthat your ruling passion is money, or the sordid objects of common\npursuit.\n\n\nNote 34, page 124.\n\nIt is a common and, I much fear, a well founded complaint, that\nsome latent mischief in our system of education, political\ninstitutions, the ordering of our establishments, or in all\nthese together, has generated, as a prevalent moral evil, filial\nunkindness and ingratitude. Scramble, competition and rivalry\nare the first, last, and universally witnessed order of things\nin our country. Nothing becomes a topic of conversation that\nis of absorbing interest, but acquisition and distinction. The\nmanifestations of an intellect, sharpened for the pursuit of\nthese things, is the subject of most earnest eulogy. Children, by\nour usages, are early cast upon their own resources, and taught\nto shift for themselves. The consequence seems to be, that the\nparental and filial ties are severed, as soon as the children are\nable to take care of themselves, almost as recklessly, in regard\nto subsequent duty, piety or affection, as those of the lower\nanimals. When we see a spectacle so revolting, and unhappily so\ncommon, of sons who, as soon as they have realized _the portion of\ngoods that falleth to them_, or of daughters, as soon as they have\nsecured lovers or husbands, forgetting the authors of their days,\nit becomes us to search deeply for the defect in our discipline, or\ninstitutions, that originates the evil. The callous hearts of such\nchildren may no longer be appalled by the terrible execution of the\nJewish law against such monsters. They may neither feel, nor care,\nhow _sharper than a serpent\u2019s tooth_, may be this want of filial\npiety to their parents. But, by a righteous reaction of the divine\njustice, more terribly vindictive than the threatened judgment of\nthe Jewish law, thankless children bear in their hearts the certain\nguaranty of their own self-inflicted punishment. They part forever\nwith the purest and noblest sentiments of the human heart; and they\nprocure for themselves the sad certainty of being cast off in their\nturn, by their children, in the helpless period of their old age.\n\n\nNote 35, page 124.\n\nThe history of literature proves, that none of the more unworthy\nsentiments of human nature have been so adverse to friendship,\nas the vanity of literary rivals. From many noble examples of\na contrary kind, which we might cite, I select the intercourse\nbetween Racine and Boileau. When Racine was persuaded, that his\nmalady would end in death, he charged his eldest son to write to\nM. de Cavoye, to ask him to solicit the payment of what was due of\nhis pension, that his family might not be left without ready money.\nHe wrote the letter and read it to his father. \u2018Why did you not,\u2019\nsaid he, \u2018request the payment of the pension of Boileau at the\nsame time? Write again, and let him know, that I was his friend in\ndeath.\u2019 This friend came to receive his last adieu. Racine rose in\nbed, as far as his weakness would allow. As he embraced his friend,\nhe said \u2018I regard it a happiness to die in your presence.\u2019\n\n\nNote 36, page 126.\n\nThe celebrated Voiture, one of the _beaux esprits_ of the age of\nLouis XIII. had lost all his money, and had an immediate call for\n200 pistoles. He wrote to the Abbe Costar, his faithful friend.\nThis admirable letter presents us with a trait of that confidence\nand frankness, which sincere friendship inspires. It was this.\n\n\u2018I yesterday lost all my money, and 200 pistoles more, which I\nhave promised to pay today. If you have that sum, do not fail to\nsend it. If not, borrow it. Obtain it, as you may, you must lend\nit me. Be careful, to allow no one to anticipate you, in giving me\nthis pleasure. I should be concerned lest it might affect my love\nfor you. I know you so well, that I am aware, you would find it\ndifficult to console yourself. To avoid this misfortune, rather\nsell what will raise it. You see how imperious my love for you is.\nI take a pleasure in conducting in this manner towards you. I feel,\nthat I should have a still greater, if you would be as frank with\nme. But you have not my courage in this point. Judge, if I am not\nperfectly assured in regard to you, since I will give my promise to\nhim, who shall bring the money.\u2019 The Abbe Costar replied--\u2018I feel\nextreme joy, to be in condition to render you the trifling service,\nyou ask of me. I had never thought, that one could purchase so\nmuch pleasure for 200 pistoles. Having experienced it, I give you\nmy word, that, for the rest of my life, I will retain a little\ncapital, always ready for your occasions. Order confidently at your\npleasure. You cannot take half the satisfaction in commanding, that\nI shall in obeying. But submissive as you may find me in other\nrespects, I shall be revolted, if you wish to compel me to take a\npromise from you.\u2019\n\n\nNote 37, page 128.\n\nAlthough I do not intend to cite in this place the story of Damon\nand Pythias, nor to harp upon discussions of a theme, upon\nwhich there has been more odious prosing, and more semblance of\nsentiment than all others, yet a subject, intrinsically of the\nfirst importance, and founded in nature, can never cease to have\nclaims upon attention, in consequence of having been hackneyed to\nthread-bare triteness. There is such an affection, as friendship.\nIt belongs to man, and is the highest honor of his nature, less\ngross and terrene, than the short epilepsy, the transient and\nfitful fever of the senses, commonly dignified with the name of\nlove, and warmer, more exhilarating, and elevated, than mere\nesteem, and common liking; it excites, without inflaming; it\nthrills, without jealousy, corroding fear, or morbid solicitude.\nIt is that sentiment, which a poet would naturally assign to\nintellectual beings of a higher order, who were never invested with\nthe corporeal elements of mortality.\n\nI wish those, most dear to me, implicitly to believe in friendship.\nI would a thousand times prefer, that they should err on the\nside of credulity, than of suspicion and distrust. I deprecate,\nabove all things, that they should give up human nature. I\nconsider real misanthropy the last misfortune. I would, rather, my\nchildren should meet with treachery and inconstancy every day of\ntheir lives, than resign themselves to the morbid and heartless\npersuasion, weakly considered an attribute of wisdom and greatness,\nthat men are altogether selfish, and unworthy of confidence. It\nis a persuasion, that not only forever invests the universe in an\nEgyptian gloom, \u2018_that may be felt_,\u2019 but, by an energetic bearing\non all the faculties and sources of feeling, causes the heart,\nthat entertains such views to become what it believes to be the\ncharacter of the species.\n\nNo scruples of false decorum shall withhold me from saying, that,\namidst all the selfishness, which optics of the most charitable\nvision could not but discover on every side, I have seen\nfriendship, pure, holy, disinterested, like that of the angels;\nnay, more--have been myself the subject of it. My heart swells, and\nwill to its latest pulsation, with the remembered proofs. True, the\ninstances, that have fallen within the compass of my experience,\nare very few. But they are sufficient to settle my conviction, that\nthe sentiment, which has inspired the enthusiasm of eloquence,\npainting and song, in all time, is not the illusion of a weak and\nmisguided imagination. Selfish as man is, we often see instances of\nthe most generous and devoted friendship, even in this silver age,\nthe age of revenue and political economy.\n\nWith my author I believe, that where the sentiment exists between a\nman and a woman, admitting each to possess the estimable endowments\npeculiar to each sex, and so exists, as not to be modified by any\nof those countless associations of another order of sentiment, that\nalmost imperceptibly invest relations between the two sexes, it is\nmore vivid, permanent and disinterested, more capable of making\nsacrifices, and more tender and delightful than it can be between\npersons of the same sex. Of this class are the most noble, touching\nand sublime examples of a constancy under every form of proof, that\nthe history of the human heart records.\n\nWhile every one is sensible, that there must exist between\ncharacters, that are susceptible of all the fidelity and beauty\nof this sentiment, a certain adaptation of circumstances, and\nconformity of disposition, mind, development and temperament, I\nbelieve with St Pierre, that it is desirable, that there should be\na certain contrast as well as much fitness. Constant assentation,\nthe same opinions, tastes, tempers and views have been found by\nexperience, not to generate the most permanent, and pleasant unions\nof the sort. The moral, as well as the physical appetite, would\ngrow weary of perpetual uniformity and unvarying similarity, and\nrequires the spice, afforded by the mixture of various ingredients\nof affectionate contrariety. Both the love and friendship, most\nlikely to endure, spring up between the placid and piquant, the\ntranquil and energetic, the monotonously sweet tempered and the\nsensitive, whose irritability is held in check by good sense,\nkindness and self-control;--between the temperament, connected\nwith blue eyes and fair hair, and that of the keen, deep black\neye, and raven locks. \u2018Soldiers,\u2019 says St Pierre, \u2018on long and\ndistant expeditions, should be associated with ministers, lawyers\nwith naturalists, and in general, the strongest contrasts of\nprofession\u2019--_all nature\u2019s discord thus making all nature\u2019s peace_.\nBut I am perfectly aware, that there will be great danger of making\nfatal mistakes, in acting on this principle. I am confident,\nthat is true in the abstract; but let sentimentalists beware of\ntrenching too confidently on ground, where the limits between\nsafety and ruin are so narrow, and difficult to discern. Doves of\na different feather may pair happily, but not doves and vultures.\nThere must be a certain compatibility not only of character, but of\nage, condition and circumstances, as we are broadly instructed in\nthe fable of the frog thinking to wed with the ox.\n\nAny discussion of the details, touching the requisite circumstances\nof compatibility to form friendships with any chance of their being\npleasant and permanent, as well as the obligations and duties\ninvolved by it, would require a volume, and would carry me utterly\nbeyond my present purpose. Books are ample, if not interesting\nand just, in the information which they impart upon this subject.\nWith my views of its obligations and duties in few words, I shall\ndismiss it.\n\nIn a pecuniary point of view the claims of friendship are only\nlimited by the sterner demands of justice. The common adage, which\ncalls upon us to be just, before we allow ourselves to be generous,\nis worthy to be written in letters of gold; though it has been a\nthousand times wrested by selfish and cold hearts, into a pretext\nfor their avarice. Whoever should think of lavishing his money\nupon a friend, in order to absolve himself from the more difficult\ncalls of justice, would show a mind, too weak and incapable of\ndiscrimination, to honor that friend by his bounty. But, grant that\nthe friends have delicacy, consideration and gentlemanly tact, and\nthey may possess a common purse, without danger to the duties of\neither.\n\nThe fame and character of the one are strictly the property of\nthe other. Let no one, who has the least particle of the base\nalloy of envy in his feelings towards him, whom he calls his\nfriend, who is willing to hear, and countenance abatements of his\nqualities, talents, or virtues, dare to assume that almost sacred\nname. He is equally unworthy of it, if he stand by in neutrality\nwhen calumny is busily passing against him; and still more, if by\nsmiles he gives his countenance, and half his consent to the story\nof detraction and abatement. It is a forfeiture of the right to\nthe name, though it may be a less worthy one, to make the person,\ncalled friend, the subject of jest and ridicule. In regard to all\nthese points, the duties are clear, distinct, palpable and not\nto be compromised. Every honorable mind feels, in witnessing any\ninfraction of the laws of equity, or strict justice, a sentiment\nof recoil and disgust, difficult perhaps to define, but one which\ninstantly designates the person guilty of it, as unworthy of the\nname of friend. Honest, frank and disinterested advice, especially\nin relation to concerns of great interest to the party, is a\nparamount obligation, whether the advised will bear, or forbear.\nThis prerogative may, indeed, be claimed by unfeeling and rude\nbluntness. But, by a discriminating mind, the suggestions of a\ncounterfeit, will never be mistaken for those of genuine friendship.\n\nThe time, the courtesy and the amount of intercourse, due from\none friend to another, can never be brought under subjection to\nrules. Moral, like physical attraction, acting unconsciously, will\nregulate this portion of duty, with the unvarying certainty of\nthe laws of nature. If persons, claiming to sustain this relation\nto each other, do not wish to be as much together, as duty and\npropriety will admit; if they allow this matter to be settled by\nthe rigid tithing of etiquette, they are anything rather than real\nfriends.\n\nI have been struck by an incident in the life of a religious woman,\nI think it was Mrs Graham. There was a sacramental pledge between\nher and a friend, that, whichever of them should be first called\nfrom life, the other should visit her in the sickness, which\nshe should consider her last, and not leave her, until she had\nreceived her last sigh. Sublime test of affection! What a tender,\nsacred office, after a life of friendship, thus, by a sacramental\ncontract, to close the eyes of the friend beloved in life, and\nseparated only by death! There can be no doubt that the feelings,\ncalled thus into action, are peculiarly fitted to mitigate the\nlast sorrows; and in the simple grandeur of such a sentiment,\nso manifested, the departing friend will see a proof, that such\naffections are, in their own nature, immortal; and that such ties\nshall be renewed in the eternal regions of the living.\n\nWhen friends are separated wide from each other by distance,\nduty, and the stern calls of our pursuits, I admire the custom of\nbaptizing, if I may so say, our remembrances, by giving the names\nof our dear and distant friends to the hills, valleys, streams,\ntrees or pleasant views in our walks; or the objects most familiar\nand pleasant to our view. The stern silence of nature may thus be\ncompelled to find a tongue, and discourse with us of those we love.\n\nIn a word, the name, I am sensible, is too often a morbid mockery\nof cold and affected sentimentalism, both weak and disgusting,\nthe cant term for the intercourse between the enlarged prisoners\nof boarding schools. But the sentiment exists, pure, simple\ndelightful. Neither fawning, nor cant, nor flattery, nor any\nmixture of earth\u2019s mould makes any part of it. Honorable,\ndignified, unshaken, it feels its obligations, and discharges\nthem. The reputation, character and whole interest of the friend\nis its object; and his highest happiness its prayer. In holy\nsegregation from the hollow intercourse, false phrases and\ndeceitful compliments of fashion, and what is called the world,\nit is faithful and consistent, under all proofs and trials, until\ndeath; and when the eyes of the departed are closed, his memory is\nenshrined in the remembrance of the survivor. Thank God! I have\nseen, I have felt, that there are such friendships; and if there is\nanything honorable, dignified and attractive in aught, that earth\npresents, it is the sight of two friends, whose attachment dates\nfrom their first remembered sentiment; and has survived difference\nof opinion and interest, the changes of distance, time and\ndisease, and those weaning influences, which, while they crumble\nthe most durable monuments, convert most hearts to stone.\n\n\nNote 38, page 129.\n\nI have long been in the habit of measuring the character, mental\npower and prospects of the young, who are brought by circumstances\nunder my observation, by the power which they evince, to resist the\nsuggestion of the senses. In the same proportion, as I see them\ncapable of rising above the thraldom of their appetites, capable\nof that energy of will, that gives the intellectual control over\nthe animal nature, I graduate them higher in the scale of moral\npower and prospect. But if, in their course, they manifest the\nclear preponderance of the animal; if sloth, sensuality, and the\ninclinations, which have no higher origin than the senses, sway\nthem beyond the influence of advice and moral suasion, be they\never so beautiful, endowed, rich, distinguished, be their place in\ngeneral estimation ever so high, I put them down, as belonging to\nthe animal, and not the intellectual orders. They can never reach\nhigher worth and success, than that, which is the blind award of\naccident.\n\n\nNote 39, page 131.\n\nIt seems to me, that writers on taste have not seen all the\nimportance of uniting physical with moral ideas, to give them any\ndeep and permanent interest. This subject might be enlarged to any\nextent, by carrying out the details, suggested by the striking,\njust, but necessarily very brief views of the author. We have here\na clue, by which we may explore a whole universe of the highest\nand purest pleasures which can touch the heart, and which to the\ngreater portion of the species have no existence.\n\nThere are travellers more learned, and equally capable of noting\nfacts with M. de Chateaubriand. They have traversed the same\ncountries, seen the same objects, and collected an immense mass\nof facts, which they have published, on their return, to be read\nby none, but kindred spirits, as dull as themselves. In his\nrecord of his travels in the same countries, we are beguiled\nonward, under the spell of a sustained charm. The imagination is\nconstantly in action; the heart swells; images of grandeur and\nbeauty, remembrances of pathos and power are evoked from every\nside, and the shadows of the past throng round us. Why is it\nso? The former see brute nature, in its lifeless and motionless\nmateriality, divorced from mind and memory. The latter not only\nsees that universe with a radiant eye, but holds converse with a\nsuperincumbent universe, as much more vast, beautiful, touching,\ndiversified, than the other, as mind is superior to matter. It is\nthis creation of thoughts, remembrances, poetry, and affecting\nimages, in his mind, intimately connected with the other, and\novershadowing it, like an illumined stratum over a region covered\nwith palpable mist, by virtue of which he makes nature eloquent.\nThis is the charm spread over all the beautiful passages that\nabound in his writings; a peculiar aptitude to associate nature,\nin every position and form, with the universe of thought within\nhim. Such is the endowment of all poets, orators, and painters,\nthat have produced efforts worthy of immortality. Common writers\nsee nature dead, silent, sterile--mere brute and voiceless\nmatter. Endowed minds kindle it into speech, beauty and grandeur;\ninterpreting it by the internal world in their own minds.\n\n\nNote 39a, page 134.\n\nThese illustrations of the importance of uniting moral with\nphysical ideas, in regard to vision, landscape, painting and music,\nare as true, as they are eloquent and striking. Who has not had\nthe vivid remembrance of home recalled in a distant land, by a\ntree, a feature in the landscape, a blue hill in the distance!\nHow readily the shadowy images of memory are evoked! Every one is\nacquainted with the touching circumstance in the character of\nthe Swiss soldiers serving in foreign countries. Great numbers of\nthem used to serve, as stipendaries, in the French armies. It was\nforbidden to play, in their presence, the air _Ranz des vaches_.\nHomesickness and desertion scarcely failed to ensue from hearing\nit. The wild and plaintive air reminded them of \u2018Sweet home,\u2019\ntheir mountains, their simple pleasures, and the range and lowing\nof their kine. The beautiful Scotch airs derive their charm from\ntheir association with mountain scenery, and the peculiar history\nand manners of a highly sensitive, intelligent and national\npeople. The same may be said of the unrivalled _Erin go Bragh_, in\nrelation to the Irish; in a word of the national music of every\npeople. Associate any idea with sentiment and the heart, and it\nbecomes touching, and sublime, and capable of stirring the deepest\nfountains of feeling, according to the remembrance with which it is\nallied.\n\n\nNote 40, page 136.\n\nI have heard persons, endowed with keen feelings, repiningly\ncontrast the miseries which they endured from an excess of\nirritable and unregulated sensibility, with the apparently joyous\napathy of fat and fortunate burghers, who seem to find no sorrows\nand no troubles in life, and who hear with incredulity and, in\nfact, with an entire want of comprehension, about sufferings\nresulting from witnessing misery, which we have no means of\nrelieving, and the sorrows, from innumerable sources, to which\nthose of a keenly sensitive nature are subject. I have never seen\nthese contrasts of character in this light. I unhesitatingly\nbelieve that a righteous Providence has exactly and admirably\nadjusted the weights in either scale. The great mass, who are not\ndisturbed with excess of feeling, are, from the same temperament,\ninterdicted from a whole universe of enjoyments, into which those,\nwho possess sensibility, and regulate it aright, have free access.\n\n\nNote 41, page 137.\n\nMan seems to contain, according as he is contemplated in different\nlights, inexplicable contradictions of character; and to be at one\ntime all tenderness of heart; and at another an odious compound\nof insensibility and cruelty; according to the circumstances\nwith which he is surrounded, and the positions in which he is\nplaced. Who could believe, that it was the same being, that now\ndissolves into tears at the rehearsal of a tragedy, on reading a\nromance or witnessing a spectacle of misery, and now hurries from\nthese emotions to see a bull-fight; and in passing to the show,\nencourages two bullies in the street to form a ring, to bruise\neach other! Who would believe, that it has always been considered\nan attribute in the more susceptible sex, to regard duellists with\na partial eye; to give a secret place in their kind feelings to\nthose who are reckless of their own and another\u2019s blood; and more\nthan all to look propitiously on soldiers encrimsoned with the\nfresh stains of the battle field? Nay, more, who reads without\nastonishment, and almost without unbelief, that a whole people, in\nthe days of the pagan Roman emperors, days of the utmost luxury of\ntaste and refinement, days, in which, in all probability, traits\nof kindness, generosity and magnanimity were no more uncommon than\nnow, the ladies of the greatest and most splendid city in the world\nthronged with an irrepressible curiosity, and an intense desire,\nto see naked gladiators lacerate, and stab each other, and old and\nfeeble men torn in pieces by lions and wild beasts, when merely a\nmovement of a finger would save them!\n\nThe ministers of the gospel, who attribute the abhorrence, which\nthe same spectacles would excite in the population of a Christian\ncity, to the humanizing influences of our faith, forget that such a\ncity has seen, times without number, its inhabitants pouring forth\nfrom its gates, to witness miserable victims burnt to death at an\n_auto da f\u00e9_, and shouting with joy at the spectacle.\n\nProtestant ministers exult, in contrasting the influences of the\nreformed faith with results like these; and yet witness their\ncongregations thronging in crowds to see a wretched criminal\nswinging in the agonies of strangulation. The same people thrill\nwith horror, as they hear, around their evening fire, how those\nwhom they call savages, dance, and yell round the stake, at which\na captive enemy is burning. To the red man it seems the extreme of\ncold-blooded ferocity, to execute a criminal with a halter, by the\nhands of a person who bears no ill will to the victim.\n\nFar be it from me to question one of the sublime trophies of the\ngospel, or to doubt its refining and humanizing influences. But the\nwhole aspect of history and society compels me to believe, that\nfashion and prevalent opinions exert an influence, that will bring\nmen to tolerate almost anything. I much fear, that the spectacles\nof the Roman Amphitheatre might be revived, if a certain number of\nany community would pertinaciously conspire, to write in favor of\nthem, and countenance them by their presence.\n\n\nNote 42, page 137.\n\nTo present, in contrast, the favorable side of human\ncontradictions:--I have seen a man plunge into the water, and\nput his own life at fearful jeopardy, to rescue a stranger from\ndrowning. I have witnessed instances of disinterested and heroic\nsacrifice, which present men in the aspect of angels, in every walk\nof life. Such sublime samples of the capability of our nature are\nthe appropriate theme of oratory, painting and song; and cannot\nbe too much blazoned. Pity it is that history did not select more\ninstances, and dwell upon them with more partial eulogy, instead of\namplifying the revolting details of war.\n\nTwo instances of affecting manifestation of tenderness are deeply\nimpressed upon my memory, simply because they were elicited by\ncommon cases of suffering; and had in them nothing of romance, or\nof uncommon tendency to excite the feelings.\n\nI was passing in the streets of one of our northern cities. On the\nmarble door steps of a sumptuous mansion sat a ragged boy, with\na look at once dogged and subdued, manifesting long acquaintance\nwith sorrow and want. Near him sat an aged woman, apparently his\nmother, decrepit, worn and squalid, with her face turned from me.\nThe boy was devouring with voracious greediness a piece of dried\nherring. Fair and richly dressed children were passing to their\nmorning school. Most of them jeered him, in passing, calling on him\nto get down from the steps, and asking him if he was very hungry?\n\u2018Yes, and you would be hungry, and sad too, if you was poor and a\nstranger, and had to take care of an old mother, and had walked as\nfar as I have.\u2019 One of the boys lingered behind, as if ashamed of\nhis feelings. I noticed his broad, high forehead, and eye speaking\na soul within. His eyes filled with tears, as he handed the boy\nmoney. My own eyes moistened, as I witnessed the angelic expression\nof this noble boy, who I dare affirm, had not the spirit to do such\nthings by halves.\n\nThe other was in another extremity of our country, where money and\ncotton, sugar and slaves, balls and theatres are the all-absorbing\nobjects of interest. A large group of gaily dressed gentlemen\nand ladies were promenading, in company with an heiress and her\nintended husband, who were shortly to be married, and they were\nmerely discussing the preparations. A poor, pale boy, apparently a\nstranger, came up to them, with his written petition for charity;\nand with the low and subdued tone of voice appropriate to shame,\nbashfulness and misery, began to tell his little story. The\nsplendid laughers walked on with an incurious carelessness. One of\nthe group lingered behind. He was struggling with the difficulties\nof obtaining a profession, and aiding in the support of a distant\nfamily. But, he bestowed on the boy one of his few remaining\ndollars. When I see such instances of native tenderness of heart, I\nthank God that men are not totally depraved.\n\n\nNote 43, page 138.\n\nEvery one who has had extensive acquaintances, and been exposed\nto frequent requests for letters of recommendation, and to\nprocure the intervention and aid of opulent friends, must feel\nthe importance and justice of these remarks. We ought not to\nrefuse such letters from indolence, selfishness, or the commonly\nalleged fear of troubling our friends. But then, the case must be\nsuch, as will bear us out, in being measured and scrupulous, in\nregard to the existence, the actual truth and justice, of what we\nadvance; otherwise our inter-position will soon be rendered cheap\nand inefficient; and will react, in creating want of respect for\nthe writer, instead of good feeling toward the person recommended.\nSuch, in a great measure, is the result, in the current value of\nthese letters, as they are emitted, according to the common forms\nof society.\n\n\nNote 44, page 139.\n\nA most affecting proof, that the human heart is not intrinsically\nbad, and that the obduracy and cold-blooded selfishness of the\nworld is adventitious, and the result of our modes and our\ntraining, is, that the sisters of charity, the truly beneficent\neverywhere, create a deep sensation of respect in beholders.\nEfficient charity is almost the only thing, that no one feels\ndisposed to question, or slander. A corpse was borne slowly by me,\nto the place of its long sleep. An immense procession followed\nwith sorrow and respect impressed upon their countenances. I\nasked, whom they were burying. \u2018A single woman without wealth or\nconnexions.--But her life has been marked by beneficence.\u2019 If that\nsex, which so instinctively desire to appear to advantage, knew, in\nwhat light a lady, distinguished by fortune and cultivation appears\nwhile traversing the dirty and dark lanes of a city, to seek out,\nand relieve cases of misery, they would practise charity, were it\nfrom no higher motive, than to create a sensation, and appear\nlovely. Every one knows the example of the sublime, quoted by\nLonginus from Moses. A passage in the Gospel seems to me still more\nsublime. _He went about doing good._ All other homage, than that\nwhich the heart pays to beneficence, is adventitious. This is real.\n\n\nNote 45, page 141.\n\nOf all the pleasures of our earthly sojourn, after those of a\ngood conscience, the most varied, and yet equable, healthful and\npermanent are those of reading. \u2018I have never,\u2019 says a respectable\nwriter, \u2018passed a comfortable day without books since I was capable\nof reading.\u2019 It is certainly pleasant, to be able to converse with\nthe wise and instructed of all countries and all times without\nformality, without embarrassment, and just as long as we choose;\nand then dismiss one of them without any apology, and sit down\nwith another. We travel without expense with them. We inhabit the\ntropics, or the polar circle, the table summits of mountains, or\nthe wide plains, at our choice. We journey by land or by sea. We\nselect congenial minds, and make them converse with us about our\ncongenial pursuits. We throw away no voice. We never dialogue in\nwrath; and intelligence converses with intelligence, divested of\nterrene grossness and passion. When detained on long journeys,\nin some remote interior tavern, by a storm, or inability to find\na conveyance, how keenly, while reading almanacks of the past\nyears, and old fragments of books, found on the dusty shelf of\nthe ordinary, have I felt the value of books, as a perfect cure\nfor the impatience of such a position. In this state of privation\nand intellectual fasting, we master dull and tiresome books,\nwhich, under other circumstances, we should not have dreamed of\nreading. Then the mind is taught to pay the proper homage to these\nintellectual resources.\n\nThe pleasures of winter reading, in the sacred privacy of the\nparlor, are thus finely described by Thomson, the painter of\nnature.\n\n                  \u2018There studious let me sit,\n      And hold high converse with the mighty dead;\n      Sages of ancient time, as gods revered,\n      As gods beneficent, who bless\u2019d mankind\n      With arts, with arms, and humanized a world.\n      Roused at th\u2019 inspiring thought, I throw aside\n      The long-lived volume; and, deep-musing, hail\n      The sacred shades, that slowly-rising pass\n      Before my wondering eyes. First Socrates,\n      Who, firmly good in a corrupted state,\n      Against the rage of tyrants single stood,\n      Invincible! calm Reason\u2019s holy law,\n      That voice of God within th\u2019 attentive mind,\n      Obeying, fearless, or in life or death:\n      Great moral teacher! Wisest of mankind!\n      Solon the next, who built his commonweal\n      On equity\u2019s wide base; by tender laws\n      A lively people curbing, yet undamped\n      Preserving still that quick peculiar fire,\n      Whence in the laurel\u2019d field of finer arts,\n      And of bold freedom, they unequall\u2019d shone,\n      The pride of smiling Greece and human kind.\n      Lycurgus then, who bow\u2019d beneath the force\n      Of strictest discipline, severely wise,\n      All human passions. Following him, I see,\n      As at Thermopyl\u00e6 he glorious fell,\n      The firm devoted chief,[C] who proved by deeds\n      The hardest lesson which the other taught.\n      Then Aristides lifts his honest front;\n      Spotless of heart, to whom th\u2019 unflattering voice\n      Of freedom gave the noblest name of Just;\n      In pure majestic poverty revered;\n      Who, e\u2019en his glory to his country\u2019s weal\n      Submitting, swell\u2019d a haughty rival\u2019s[D] fame.\n      Rear\u2019d by his care, of softer ray appears\n      Cimon sweet-soul\u2019d; whose genius, rising strong,\n      Shook off the load of young debauch; abroad\n      The scourge of Persian pride, at home the friend\n      Of every worth and every splendid art;\n      Modest and simple, in the pomp of wealth.\n      Then the last worthies of declining Greece,\n      Late call\u2019d to glory, in unequal times\n      Pensive appear. The fair Corinthian boast,\n      Timoleon, happy temper! mild and firm,\n      Who wept the brother while the tyrant bled.\n      And, equal to the best, the Theban Pair,[E]\n      Whose virtues, in heroic concord join\u2019d,\n      Their country raised to freedom, empire, fame.\n      He too, with whom Athenian honor sunk,\n      And left a mass of sordid lees behind,\n      Phocion the Good; in public life severe,\n      To virtue still inexorably firm;\n      But when, beneath his low illustrious roof,\n      Sweet peace and happy wisdom smooth\u2019d his brow,\n      Not friendship softer was, nor love more kind.\n      And he, the last of old Lycurgus\u2019 sons,\n      The generous victim to that vain attempt,\n      To save a rotten state, Agis, who saw\n      E\u2019en Sparta\u2019s self to servile avarice sunk.\n      The two Achaian heroes close the train:\n      Aratus, who a while relumed the soul\n      Of fondly lingering liberty in Greece;\n      And he, her darling as her latest hope,\n      The gallant Philop\u0153men; who to arms\n      Turn\u2019d the luxurious pomp he could not cure;\n      Or toiling on his farm, a simple swain;\n      Or, bold and skilful, thundering in the field.\n        \u2018Of rougher front, a mighty people comes!\n      A race of heroes! in those virtuous times\n      Which knew no stain, save that with partial flame\n      Their dearest country they too fondly loved:\n      Her better Founder first, the light of Rome,\n      Numa, who soften\u2019d her rapacious sons;\n      Servius the king, who laid the solid base\n      On which o\u2019er earth the vast republic spread.\n      Then the great consuls venerable rise.\n      The public Father[F] who the private quell\u2019d,\n      As on the dread tribunal sternly sat.\n      He whom his thankless country could not lose,\n      Camillus, only vengeful to her foes.\n      Fabricius, scorner of all-conquering gold;\n      And Cincinnatus, awful from the plough.\n      Thy willing victim,[G] Carthage, bursting loose\n      From all that pleading Nature could oppose,\n      From a whole city\u2019s tears, by rigid faith\n      Imperious call\u2019d, and honor\u2019s dire command.\n      Scipio, the gentle chief, humanely brave,\n      Who soon the race of spotless glory ran,\n      And, warm in youth, to the poetic shade\n      With Friendship and Philosophy retired.\n      Tully, whose powerful eloquence a while\n      Restrain\u2019d the rapid fate of rushing Rome.\n      Unconquer\u2019d Cato, virtuous in extreme;\n      And thou, unhappy Brutus, kind of heart,\n      Whose steady arm, by awful virtue urged,\n      Lifted the Roman steel against thy friend.\n      Thousands besides the tribute of a verse\n      Demand; but who can count the stars of heaven?\n      Who sing their influence on this lower world?\n        \u2018Behold, who yonder comes! in sober state,\n      Fair, mild, and strong, as is a vernal sun;\n      \u2019Tis Ph\u0153bus\u2019 self, or else the Mantuan swain!\n      Great Homer too appears, of daring wing,\n      Parent of song! and, equal by his side,\n      The British Muse; join\u2019d hand in hand they walk,\n      Darkling, full up the middle steep to fame,\n      Nor absent are those shades, whose skilful touch\n      Pathetic drew th\u2019 impassion\u2019d heart, and charm\u2019d\n      Transported Athens with the moral scene;\n      Nor those who, tuneful, waked th\u2019 enchanted lyre.\n        \u2018First of your kind! society divine!\n      Still visit thus my nights, for you reserved,\n      And mount my soaring soul to thoughts like yours.\n      Silence, thou lonely power! the door be thine;\n      See on the hallow\u2019d hour that none intrude,\n      Save a few chosen friends, who sometimes deign\n      To bless my humble roof, with sense refined,\n      Learning digested well, exalted faith,\n      Unstudied wit, and humor ever gay.\n      Or from the Muses\u2019 hill will Pope descend,\n      To raise the sacred hour, to bid it smile,\n      And with the social spirit warm the heart?\n      For though not sweeter his own Homer sings,\n      Yet is his life the more endearing song.\u2019\n\n\nNote 46, page 142.\n\nWhoever has attempted to concentrate his thoughts in fixed\ncontemplation upon the origin of the human race, the object of our\npresent existence, and our prospects beyond it, upon the character\nand plan of the divinity, and the mode of his being, must have\nfelt a painful vagueness, a dizzying sense of the weakness of our\npowers, very naturally preparing us for superstitious and terrific\nviews of the first cause. But when, in the clear light of reason,\nI look upon his creation, on his star-spangled firmament, and the\nglory of his works, I should as soon doubt my own existence, as\nthe perfect wisdom and goodness of the author of my being. All\nreligion, which does not strengthen our confidence in this, must\nbe a dreary illusion. Horrible dreams, dating their origin from\nthe associations of childhood, and the rant of wild and visionary\nministers, may sometimes interpose, in the uncertain moments\nbetween sleeping and waking, as among the gloomy presentiments\nand partial delirium of ill health. But every rational mind must\nfinally settle to repose in that glorious persuasion, which\ninstantly irradiates the moral universe with perennial sunshine.\n\u2018The Lord reigneth; let the earth rejoice.\u2019 In this or any other\nworld, in our present or any other forms of conscious being, we may\nadvance upon the unexplored scenes with a full confidence that we\ncan never travel beyond the beneficence and equity of the infinite\nmind.\n\nOne of the standing themes of Christian pulpits is the puerile\nand absurd views, which the common creed of the Greeks and Romans\npresented of the rabble divinities of their Pantheon; deities, who\nfought, intrigued, made love, and intoxicated themselves; deities,\nwho had great power in a valley, and none on the adjoining hills;\ndeities, who were conquered, and transferred with their territory,\nand became in consequence subservient to their conquerors. I have\nheard discussions of this kind in the discourse of the sabbath\nmorning: and, in that of the evening, views of Christian theology,\nscarcely less narrow and unworthy of the Supreme Being. I am\ncompelled to believe, from reading and observation, that the mass\nof the people, in all churches, have had no other conception of\nthe divinity, than that of a being molded much like themselves.\nWe cannot avoid discovering, that their ideas of a God are gross,\nmaterial, local, partial; that they behold him, as the God of their\nplace, party and passions. Converse with the fiercer sects, and\nyou perceive, that their views immediately become vague, as soon\nas they contemplate the Almighty occupied with concerns beyond\ntheir sect. It seems beyond their thoughts, to realize, that their\ndenomination bears to the species little more than the proportion\nof a drop to the ocean: and that the Supreme Being cannot be\nrationally supposed more concerned about them, than any other equal\nnumber of his children.\n\nNothing can be more philosophical, or consoling, than the Scripture\nviews of what has been called a _particular providence_. But,\nas we hear it generally expounded from the press, the pulpit,\nand in common conversation, it offers views of the divine Being\nand government, scarcely less weak, monstrous and unworthy, than\nthose entertained by the ancient pagans. What a conception, to\nsuppose that a perfect law, as wise and equitable in its general\noperation, as infinite wisdom and goodness could ordain, could\nbe continually infringed, to meet countless millions of opposing\nprayers and interests! What a view of God, to imagine, that\nearnest and concurrent prayers can at any time divert him from his\npurpose, and change his plans! What palpable misinterpretation of\nthe Scriptures, to suppose, that they give any countenance to such\ndebasing conceptions of God! Hear rigid sectarians converse, and\nyou discover, that they think little of the divine providence,\nwhich has no reference to their individual interests and concerns.\nFrom the tone of their conversations, it is but too manifest, that\nthey have an interior confidence, that they can obtain of the\ndivine power, almost what they will.\n\nThe testimony of church history and the experience of time\ntestify, that the million, under all degrees of light, shrink from\nthe difficult and philosophical idea of the real Jehovah of the\nBible; and form, instead, the easy and natural image of a limited,\npartial, changeable God, whom importunity can easily induce to\nswerve from his purpose; and who is, in many respects, such a\nbeing as themselves. It is the embodied conception of their own\nnarrow views, assigned to a local habitation. To him the countless\nmillions of other lands, and other forms of worship, are not, like\nthem, as children. Unable to rise to the Supreme Being, they have\nbrought Him down to them.\n\nA few minds, from age to age, elevated by endowment and\ncircumstances far above their cotemporaries, have not only\nembraced, in common with others, the easy and simple sentiments\nof Him, which the heart entertains, but have raised their\ncontemplations so high, as to behold Him in the light of\ntruth--have seen Him, in some sense, _as He is_--have been filled\nwith awe and confidence, in the view of his immutability, and with\nfilial and cheerful resignation, in seeing in the universe, its\norder, mutations and variety, in the mixed condition of man, in a\nword, in every feature of the natural and moral creation, as in a\nmirror, a perfect transcript of the divine perfections--a pattern\nof an archetype without a shade of defect. Instead of bringing the\nDivine Being down to them, they have raised themselves up to Him.\nThe veil, that screens his glory from the feeble vision of the\nmultitude, has been removed. Being assured, that He has made of one\nblood all nations, that dwell on the earth, they have seen it to be\nimpossible, that He should look upon one portion of his children\nwith more favor than on another. They have seen, in the superior\nlight and advantages of one part of the species over another, not\nthe indication, of what is technically called _special favor_, but\nthe natural result of the operation of his universal laws. They\nhave seen, that if the inhabitants of one region are enabled to\nrise higher in the intellectual scale, and pay him a more spiritual\nand worthy homage--the simple inhabitants of _distant, barbarous\nisles_ have an organization admitting them to be as happy as their\nnatures will admit, and as full of enjoyment as their measure can\ncontain. If they are unable to offer an intellectual worship,\nthe service of their minds, their hearts are formed for fervent\nadmiration and worship of the thunderer--the being, who raises\nfruits and flowers, and hangs out his bow on their clouds. They\nsee, in all this, _that God, also, hath set one thing over against\nanother_.\n\n\nNote 47, page 144.\n\nThe wisdom of allowing any place to the imagination, among the\nfaculties to be nurtured, I have often heard called in question.\nThe extremes of opinion frequently meet in the same point. The\nmost earnest declaimers against the indulgence of the imagination\nare commonly found among the class of strict religionists. It is,\nat the same time, a strong and prominent trait in the system of\nMr Owen \u2018the philosopher of circumstances,\u2019 and his followers,\nthat we ought to eradicate this faculty, if possible, or at least\nsuppress its exercise; and reduce all mental operations to the\ncultivation of the reasoning powers. For me, I hold, that we are\nas much indebted to the author of our being for granting us this\nfaculty, as any other. I see nothing wrong, or unphilosophical\nin cultivating it to the utmost extent; provided our imaginings\nwould be innocent, if we could render them realities; unless it\ncan be shown, that the indulgence of this faculty enervates the\nmind, and unfits it for encountering the stern duties and trials\nof life. So far from believing this to be the natural tendency of\nits allowed exercise, my experience has led me to suppose, that\npersons, strongly endowed with this faculty, are most likely to\nshow energy for the discharge of common duties; and constancy and\ncheerfulness in encountering trials. Are the southern people of\nEurope, for example, less firm in conflicting with danger and\nsorrow, or more feeble and remiss in the discharge of duties,\nthan the northern nations, admitted to be far less imaginative?\nWithin the range of my experience, I find those possessed of the\nmost vivid imagination, the most prompt to duty, and the most\ncheerful in sorrow. The moody advocates of pure and exclusive\nreason lay feeling, one of the strongest impulses to duty, out\nof the question; and would extinguish one of the surest supports\nin sorrow, the power of creating a bright internal world for\nourselves, when the external world is involved in unavoidable gloom.\n\nThey who decry the indulgence of the imagination, must, of course,\nobject to the endowment of poets and painters; and equally to\nthe pleasure derived from reading poetry, and contemplating\npaintings. The whole empire of these kindred studies is that of\nthe imagination. Let us try the alleged puerility of indulging\nthis faculty. No one will deny, that it is the highest wisdom to\nseek to be as happy, as we innocently may. When a mental faculty\nis employed in creating within us a celestial world, peopled\nwith nobler beings, acting from higher motives, and showing a\nhappier existence; and in substituting the beautiful possible for\nthe tame real; if we find innocent happiness in this celestial\ncastle-building, are we not employing reason, only in a different\ndirection from the common? When any one can prove to me, that\nit is puerile, to make ourselves happy, and from sources always\nwithin our own control, then I will admit, that ideal pleasures are\nunworthy of a reasonable being. Prove only, that the indulgence\nof the faculty enervates the mind, and indisposes it for duty\nand constancy in suffering, and I will grant at once, that it\nshould be stifled, or its action restricted or suppressed. So far\nfrom believing this to be the fact, I would counsel him, whom\nI most love, to seek in her whom he would select for his wife,\na cheerful and active imagination. It is an egregious mistake,\nthat mathematicians and practical men have generally been found\ndestitute of a good development of this faculty. Contrary to the\nvulgar and hackneyed theme of pulpit declamation, I have found\non examination, that some of the most energetically charitable\nwomen, I have ever known, were veteran novel readers; as have also\nbeen some of the most profound lawyers that have ever adorned the\njudgment seat in our country.\n\n\nNote 48, page 145.\n\nIt is not exactly true, that this faculty can be subjected to the\ncomplete control of the will. I know of no point in metaphysics,\nconnected, also, with an important question in rhetoric, upon which\nless light has been thrown, than the question, how far, and in\nwhat way the imagination can be cultivated: and by what methods\nbrought under the control of the will. A system of useful and\npractical rules for this result is, as far as my reading extends, a\ndesideratum. Dr Johnson, it is well known, believed, that a man\u2019s\nmuse was _sua dextra_, his own will, industry and habits, and that\nby a vigorous effort over himself, he could write, for example,\nat any time. This may be true in efforts, in which imagination is\nnot required; but, where the vivid exercise of this faculty is\nrequisite to excellence, it is not true. Let the most amply endowed\npoet suffer under mental depression, dyspepsia, a concurrence of\nsmall misfortunes and petty vexations. Let him write in a smoky\napartment, and look abroad upon a leaden sky, marked with the\ndulness of winter, without its storms and congenial horrors. He may\nrepair to his rules. He may apply the whip and spur, and invoke the\nnimble fancies from the vasty deep, and the muses from their hill,\nbut they will not answer, nor come at his bidding.\n\nThe imagination may be cultivated to a certain extent; and brought\nby rules and intense concentration of mind, in a certain degree,\nunder the control of the will. Those, who would nurture it, ought\nintensely to study those rules. But, after all, to be able to\nexercise it in high measures of vivacity, is an endowment, in the\nbestowment of which nature has been more capricious than in almost\nany other. Even when possessed in copious measures, its province\nlies so intermediate between corporeal and mental influence,\nbetween the prevalent temperament of the period of its action, and\nthe concurrence of external circumstances beyond our control, that\nwe can easily see, why the wise ancients, who thought more justly\nupon these subjects, and more profoundly than the moderns seem to\nbe willing to apprehend, attributed the successful efforts of the\nmuses to a superior and celestial influence. He, who pushes the\ntheory of our control over this faculty beyond truth, adopts an\nerror, nearly if not quite as dangerous, as he, who holds, that we\nhave no control over it at all.\n\nA thousand external circumstances, which it would require\na volume to enumerate, must concur with a certain easy and\nstrong excitability in the physical and mental frame; and that\nexcitability called into action by the right sort of stimulants,\nto impart happy and vigorous action to the imagination. Milton\naffirmed, that his muse was most propitious in the spring. As far\nas I can judge, the season of reproduction, and the awakening of\nthe slumbering powers of nature, in the aroma and brilliancy of\nvegetation and flowers, acts too voluptuously on the senses, to\ngive the highest and best direction to the imagination. The Indian\nsummer days of autumn, with the associated repose of nature, the\nbroad and crimson disk of the sun enthroned in the dome of a misty\nsky, the clouds sleeping in the firmament, the gorgeous coloring\nof the forests, the flashing fall of the first leaves, and the not\nunpleasing sadness of the images, called up by the imperceptible\ndecay of nature, and the stealthy approach of winter, seem to me\nmost favorable to heavenly musing. A cloudless morning, a beautiful\nsun, the glittering brightness of the dew drops, the renovated\nfreshness of nature, morning sounds, the mists rolling away from\nthe path of the sun, a bland southwest breeze, good health,\nself-satisfaction, the recent reception of good news, and the right\ntrain of circumstances all concur to put this faculty into its\nhappiest action.\n\nEvery one is acquainted with the unsparing ridicule bestowed on\nBayes, in Buckingham\u2019s Rehearsal, for announcing, that he always\ntook physic, before he wrote. Yet the dull coxcomb had reason and\ntruth on his side. Mental action is more dependent upon corporeal,\nand the ethereal powers upon the right disposition of that\norganized clod, the body, than most are willing to acknowledge. Who\nhas not felt, when first going abroad from severe sickness, the\nnew aspects of nature, a fullness of heart, and the crowding of\ninnumerable images upon the thoughts, which have no place in the\nmind, after a turtle feast or a full dinner? When the digestive\npowers are oppressed with morbid accumulation, the wheels of mental\nmovement, as every one knows, move heavily. Students, orators,\npainters, poets, imaginative men must live as near famine as may\nbe, and the most useful stimulants are coffee and tea. Every one\nhas read, that Byron\u2019s inspiration was gin. It may be, that the\ndetestible combination of terebinthine and alcoholic excitement may\nhave aroused from the mouldy and terrene dormitories of his brain\nthe images of Don Juan, and the obscene, irreligious, anti-social,\nand fierce thoughts, that abound in his works. But I would hardly\nbelieve, on his own assertion, that he wrote the Prisoners of\nChildren under such an influence. The muse of alcohol is accursed;\nand her influence is too corroding, dreggy, and adverse to life, to\noriginate ideas worthy of being handed down in immortal verse. If\nthese baleful aids were resorted to at all, I should consider opium\na thousand times preferable to alcohol.\n\nI know, from my own experience, that this reality of actual\nand present existence may be imparted to the creations of the\nimagination, by long habits of subjecting it to the control of the\nwill. The enjoyment, resulting from reality, may be more intense,\nbut it is, also, more tumultuous and feverish. I know of no\nhappiness, more pure, prolonged and tranquil, more like what we may\nimagine to be the bliss of higher intelligences, than to be able\nto create this sunshine of the soul, this fair and celestial world\nwithin ourselves, and make ourselves free denizens of the country.\nFrom these fairy mansions labor, care and want are excluded. The\nobstacles and impediments of time, distance, and disease, both of\nbody and mind, are excluded. The inhabitants, walking in the light\nof truth and the radiance of immortal beauty, from sin and death\nforever free, unite the wisdom of angels to the simplicity and\naffectionate confidence of children.\n\n\nNote 50, page 146.\n\nNo people, in my estimation, are farther from true wisdom, than\nthey, who denounce these pleasures of the imagination, as the\npuerile follies of weak minds. They who are most prompt to bring\nthe charge, are generally destitute of the faculty, and its\nkindred endowments themselves; and seem to desire that other minds\nshould be reduced to their own scale of sterility. Puerile, to\navail ourselves of the power of rendering ourselves innocently\nhappy! To me the puerility belongs to those who mostly abstain\nfrom contemplating the few gleams of sunshine, that we can behold\nbetween the cradle and the grave. \u2018But these joys are unreal!\u2019\nWhat is there in the _vain show_ of life, that is not so? See the\ngreedy scramble of ambition, after honor, wealth and distinction,\nthe painted baubles of insects, who hold all by the frail tenure of\nlife! Life itself, what is it, but a dream, sometimes illumined by\nthe rainbows of imagination and hope?\n\n\nNote 51, page 149.\n\nA being endowed with such intense emotions, as man; and so placed,\nas to have them so strongly called forth by the relations he\ncontracts: so much in the dark in regard to his origin, his end and\neverything about him, conscious, that he must shortly leave home,\nall that he loves, the view of the earth and the sky, and that\nbody, which long habit has taught him to consider as himself, to\nmolder back to the soil, should naturally be expected to have this\ntendency to melancholy. Beautifully said the fabulist, \u2018that he who\nformed us, moistened the clay of our structure not with water but\ntears.\u2019 The natural expression of the human countenance in sleep\nis shaded with a slight veil of melancholy. It has been observed,\nthat the national music of all people, and, more especially, of\nthe uncivilized tribes, is on a key of melancholy. Most of the\nvoices of the animal tribes are of this cast. The strain of the\nnightingale is the deepest expression of this sentiment. Religion\nshould be the grand re-agent, in bringing light and cheerfulness to\na universe of sadness and death, by presenting new views of that\nuniverse, its author, his beneficence, and the ultimate hope of the\nsoul.\n\n      \u2018See truth, love and mercy in triumph descending,\n       And nature all glowing in Eden\u2019s first bloom;\n       On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blending.\n       And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.\u2019\n\n\nNote 52, page 149.\n\nWith the honorable exception of some towns and districts in our\ncountry, the epitaphs and monumental inscriptions are utterly\nbeneath criticism. The greater portion are from Watts, and the\nother minor poets, too often little more than extravagant, coarse,\nmiserable conceits. Here and there, a beautiful quotation from\nthe Bible, such as \u2018Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord;\u2019\n\u2018Man cometh forth, like a flower, and is cut down,\u2019 only serve\nto render the worthlessness of the remainder more conspicuous\nby contrast. What adds to the unpleasant effect is, that no\ninconsiderable portion of them are absolutely misspelt, to say\nnothing of the punctuation. Strange, that survivors should incur\nthe expense of a slab, and permit a stone-cutter to select, spell,\nand point the inscriptions. It is to be hoped, that some competent\nwriter will, ere long, take in hand this matter, so vital to the\nliterary reputation of our country, and introduce a thorough and\ngeneral reform, by wiping away this national stain, and introducing\nthat beautiful and sublime simplicity, which ought always to\ncharacterize monumental inscriptions.\n\nAkin to the bad taste of this sort, is the slovenly manner in which\nour church-yards are kept, in whole sections of the country. Who\nhas not felt pain, at seeing many and even most of these places\nsacred to memory, in the western county especially, uninclosed,\ntrampled upon by cattle, and the narrow heap of turf disturbed by\nswine?\n\nOf writers, whose works have been immortalized by the muse\nof melancholy, I am acquainted, in the French language, with\nChateaubriand, who has produced occasional passages of this class\nnot to be surpassed; and Lamartine, whose poetry breathes a rich\nand deep strain of melancholy. Young\u2019s Night Thoughts, Blair\u2019s\nGrave, and Porteus \u2018on Death,\u2019 are celebrated English specimens\nof this class of poetry. In our country the Thanatopsis of Bryant\nranks quite as high as either of the former writers in this walk.\nSome of the lines are of exquisite beauty, as paintings of the\ntrophies of the tomb. Another age will do justice to many of the\nthoughts in the Sorotaphion of a young poet, who has written on the\nremote shores of Red River.\n\nThe first lines of the inscription on the famous Roman statue of\nSleep are the sublimest concentration of melancholy thought:\n\n\u2018It is better to sleep, than wake; and best of all to be in marble.\u2019\n\nThe same may be said of that of the orphan nun, who died in the\nprime of youth and beauty: \u2018I was alone among the living. I am\nalone here.\u2019\n\nBut it is in the book of Job, that poetic images, upon which has\nbeen thrown the shade of a sublime melancholy, are set forth, with\na power and pathos that leave little more, to succeeding writers in\nthat walk, than to study, combine, and reproduce their features.\nHow perfectly has this author given utterance to the groans of one\nin utter despondency and bereavement! Here the heart speaks its\nown language, with a simplicity and truth to make its way to every\nother heart. These features fix the date of this poem at a period\nantecedent to the settled art of writing, and plagiarizing the\nshadow of a shade, more conclusively than volumes of criticism.\nHe copied not; but drank at the fountain; feeling deeply, and\nexpressing what he felt.\n\n\nNote 53, page 150.\n\nWhen in my travels I pass through a town, or village, which I have\nnot seen, if I have sufficient leisure, the first place which\nI visit, is uniformly the church-yard. The feeling that I am a\nstranger, that I know not the scenery, and that it knows not me,\nnaturally induces a sort of pensive meditation, which disposes me\nfor that sojourn. I form certain estimates of the taste and moral\nfeeling of the people, from the forms and devices of the slabs\nand monuments; and the order in which the consecrated ground is\ninclosed, and kept. The inscriptions are ordinarily, in too bad a\ntaste to claim much interest, though there are few church-yards,\nthat cannot show some monuments, which, by their eccentric\nvariation from the rest, mark character. All this is a matter of\ntrifling interest, compared with the throng of remembrances and\nanticipations, that naturally crowd upon the spirit of a stranger\nin such a place. Youth with its rainbows, and its loves; mature\nage with its ambitious projects; old age in the midst of children,\ndeath in the natal spot, or the house of the stranger; eternity\nwith its dim and illimitable mysteriousness; these shadowy images,\nwith their associated thoughts, pass through the mind, and return,\nlike the guests at an inn. While I look up towards the rolling\nclouds, and the sun walking his unvarying path along the firmament,\nhow natural the reflection, that they will present the same aspect,\nand suggest the same reflections, that the trees will stand forth\nin their foliage and the hills in their verdure, to him who comes\nafter me, when I shall have taken my place with the unconscious\nsleepers about me! I never fail to recollect the charming\nreflections in a number of the Spectator, that treats upon a visit\nto Westminster Abbey, the most impressive writing of the kind, as\nit seems to me, in our language.\n\nHere is the place to reflect upon the folly, if not the guilt, of\nhuman hatred and revenge, ambition and avarice, and the million\npuerile projects and cares, that are incessantly over-clouding the\nsunshine of existence. What an eloquent lesson do these voiceless\npreachers read, upon the wisdom of most of those thoughts and\nsolicitudes, that disturb our course through life!\n\nThe heart cannot but be made better by occasional communion with\nthese tenants of the narrow house, where--\n\n      \u2018Each waits the other\u2019s license to disturb\n       The deep, unbroken silence.\u2019\n\n\nNote 53a, page 152.\n\nIt is questionable, how far they could lay claim to be the real\nfriends of humanity, who would reason away this last, best solace\nof human wretchedness, even were it proved an illusion. But man\nis just as certainly and necessarily a religious being, as he\nis a being constituted with appetites and passions. Grant, that\nthere are people, who seem wholly destitute of the religious\nsentiment. Such are the real Atheists from internal conviction; for\nobserve, there are many, who assume to be such, to pass for free\nand independent thinkers, and who are most likely, in their dying\nmoments, to require absolution and extreme unction. But if there\nare men thus monstrously constituted, so are there individuals\napparently as destitute of the common appetites and passions. We\ntake no account of such exceptions, in indicating a general rule;\nand say, that man is constituted a religious being, and possessed\nof certain appetites and passions; although there may be selected a\nfew individuals, who seem entirely without either.\n\nReligion is the key stone of the arch of the moral universe. It\nis the fountain of endearing friendship; and on it are founded\nthose sublime relations, which exist between the visible and the\ninvisible world; those, who still sojourn here, and those who\nhave become citizens of the country beyond us. It is the poesy of\nexistence, the basis of all high thought and virtuous feeling; of\ncharities and morals; and the very tie of social existence. Let no\nperson claim to be good, while laying an unhallowed hand upon this\nark of the covenant of the Eternal with the children of sorrow and\ndeath.\n\n\nNote 54, page 154.\n\nTreatises upon the evidences of religion may be useful for\ntheological students; and I have heard people affirm, that they\nhave been rescued by such works from the gloom of unbelief. But,\nbelieving, as I do, that we were constituted religious animals,\nif such a term may be admitted, and that the religious sentiment\nis a part of our organization, I have quite as much confidence in\nthe arguments of the heart, as of the head. I undertake not to\npronounce, whether M. de Chateaubriand were a good christian, or\nnot. But I affirm, that I have nowhere seen my own views of the\nprocess, by which the original endowment of the religious sentiment\nis called into action, so eloquently described, as in the following\nextract from that writer.\n\n\u2018My mother, after being thrown, at the age of seventy-two years,\ninto a dungeon, where she saw a part of her children perish,\nexpired at last upon a couch of straw, to which her miseries\nhad consigned her. The remembrance of my errors infused great\nbitterness into her last days. In death she charged one of my\nsisters to recall me to that religion, in which I had been reared.\nMy sister transmitted me the last wish of my mother. When this\nletter reached me beyond the seas, my sister herself was no more.\nShe had died from the consequences of her imprisonment. These two\nvoices, proceeding from the tomb, this death, which served as the\ninterpreter of the dead, deeply struck me. I did not yield, I\nadmit, to great supernatural lights. My conviction proceeded from\nthe heart. I wept, and I believed.\u2019\n\n\nNote 55, page 157.\n\nThe belief naturally originated by the sentiment of religion, or\nwhat may be called the faith of the heart, is presented in the last\nfruitless attempt of the old man, to cheer the despair of Paul in\nthe exquisite tale of Paul and Virginia. \u2018And why deplore the fate\nof Virginia? Virginia still exists. There is, be assured, a region,\nin which virtue receives its reward. Virginia now is happy. Oh! if\nfrom the abode of angels, she could tell you, as she did, when she\nbade you farewell, \u201cO Paul, life is but a trial. I was faithful to\nthe laws of nature, love and virtue. Heaven found I had fulfilled\nmy duties, and snatched me forever from all the miseries, I might\nhave endured myself; and all, I might have felt for the miseries\nof others. I am placed above the reach of all human evils, and you\npity me! I am become pure and unchangeable, as a particle of light,\nand you would recall me to the darkness of human life. O Paul! O\nmy beloved friend! Recollect those days of happiness, when in the\nmorning we felt the delightful sensations excited by the unfolding\nbeauties of nature; when we gazed upon the sun, gilding the peaks\nof those rocks; and then spreading his rays over the bosom of the\nforests. How exquisite were our emotions, while we enjoyed the\nglowing colors of the opening day, the odors of our shrubs, the\nconcerts of our birds! Now at the source of beauty, from which\nflows all that is delightful on earth, my soul intuitively sees,\ntastes, hears, touches, what before she could only be made sensible\nof through the medium of our weak organs. Oh! what language can\ndescribe, those shores of eternal bliss, which I inhabit forever!\nAll, that infinite power and celestial bounty can confer, that\nharmony, which results from friendship with numberless beings,\nexulting in the same felicity, we enjoy in unmixed perfection.\nSupport, then, the trial which is allotted you, that you may\nheighten the happiness of your Virginia, by love, which will know\nno termination, by hymeneals, which will be immortal. There I will\ncalm your regrets; I will wipe away your tears. Raise your thoughts\ntowards infinite duration, and bear the evils of a moment.\u201d\u2019\n\n\nNote 56, page 160.\n\nPhrenologists affirm, that along the centre of the crown is\nsituated the organ of veneration, or religious sentiment; that,\nwhere it is large, the subject is strongly endowed with religious\nfeeling, and the contrary, when it is otherwise; that, with some\nfew monstrous exceptions, all possess this organ in a larger\nor smaller degree; and that, as the sentiment springing from\nthe action of this organ is directed towards proper or improper\nobjects, enlightened by reason, rendered gloomy by fear, or\nsuperstitious by credulity, is the religious character of the\nperson. Neither my subject, nor my inclination calls upon me to\nagitate a system, which has generally been met only with unsparing\nridicule, instead of manly argument. With its doctrines or merits I\nintermeddle not in this place. But, as far as the system declares,\nthat those people, whom we call pious, whose tone of mind seems\nto dispose them to strong religious feeling, are so inclined\nfrom organization, rather than volition, or argument, I most\nconfidently believe. Morals, whatever is taught by the science of\nethics, dogmas, ceremonies, commonly phrased religion, make, in\nmy mind, no part of it. I consider religion to be simply love,\noriginating from instinctive impulses of veneration in the mind,\nfor whatever is powerful, beneficent, and worthy of love. Its\nnative tendency is to expend its affection, first upon the unknown\nand incomprehensible power, from whom we derived our being, whom\nthe heart, without argument, intuitively perceives to be good.\nIts next and associated tendency is philanthropy, or the love of\nwhat bears the impress and image of God. If we possess not this\noriginal organization, no argument will ever persuade us to be\nreligious. If we have it, we may be liberal, or bigoted, Christians\nor Mahometans, earnest or cold, according to our proportion of\nendowment, our training and circumstances. We may even adopt the\nflippant arguments of the unbelieving, and enlist ourselves under\ntheir banner. But the original principle is still within us,\nuneradicated, and uneradicable; and ready, if circumstances should\nfavor the change, to present us in the form of devotees, or, as\nthe phrase is, _converted_. The whole wisdom and excellence of\nreligious training consist in enlightening this noble sentiment,\nand giving it a right direction. I am the rather confirmed in these\nviews, by having remarked, that the chief, palpable and tangible\ninfluences of religion, which I have witnessed in all the sects,\nthat I have had occasion to observe, have seemed to me to result\nfrom the affectionate spirit of their worship, creating in them\nstrong dispositions to love one another.\n\nOpen the gospels and the epistles, and what is the first impression\nfrom perusing these unique and original writings, so wholly unlike\nany other recorded compositions, and bearing upon a theme of\nsuch astonishing import? The simplicity and fervor, with which\nthe spirit of love is impressed upon the pages. The strong and\nbefore unwitnessed manifestation of this spirit was the striking\naspect, which the first Christians presented to pagan beholders.\n\u2018See!\u2019 said they, \u2018how these Christians love one another.\u2019 Every\ntime, I peruse the writings of the New Testament, this peculiar\nbadge of discipleship seems more visibly impressed upon them. In\nwhat other institution, but that of Christianity, was it ever\npracticable to possess all things in common? Where has been the\ncommunity, in which no one felt want, when a disciple had wherewith\nto satisfy it? In what other chronicles do we meet with such\naffecting and sublime examples of devotion to each other, and a\nconstancy of affection, which showed itself proof against all other\nhuman passions, selfishness, hope, fear, earthly love, and the\nterror of death? What tenderness and singleness of heart in their\naffection for each other! How beautifully they demonstrate, that\nthe sentiment, which actuated them, had gained a complete triumph\nover all considerations, arising from objects below the sun? He on\nwhose bosom the loved disciple leaned must certainly be admitted to\nknow the peculiar and distinguishing feature of his religion. This\nfeature stands forth embodied in all his teachings. Philanthropy\nis the predominant trait in the life of him, _who went about doing\ngood_. Consider the basis of religion to be a sentiment implanted\nin our constitution, and this result would naturally be expected to\nflow from its development.\n\nTrue religion, consisting in an enlightened and affectionate\ndirection of the heart towards the divinity, and manifesting\nitself in love to the human family, and in consequent obedience to\nthe universal and unchangeable laws of the Creator, can only be\nexpected to result from the highest discipline of the mind, and the\nultimate exercise of the purest reason. But the sentiment, from\nwhich this religion springs, in some form or other, as naturally\nimpels the heart towards God, and its faith and aspirations towards\nimmortality, as fishes desire to find their home in the water,\nor birds in the air; and as everything, that has life, obeys the\npeculiar instincts and impulses impressed by the divine hand. Why\nelse, should every people under heaven, in all time, have been\nfound with a religion in some form, and hopes and fears beyond the\ngrave? Consider religion in this light, and its hopes are as sure,\nas those objects, towards which the instincts of all other animals\nprompt them.\n\nDo I undervalue morals, since I do not deem them a part, of\nwhat should be properly called religion? I trust, I cannot be\nso mistaken. Ethics may be taught, as a science, and, however\nimportant, seems to me no more a part of religion, than mathematics\nor natural philosophy. Love will create morals; and its perfection\nthe perfection of morals, that we ascribe to angels. All that has\nbeen urged from the pulpit, in regard to faith and works, as cause\nand effect, may, with still more justice, be applied to love and\nduty. Love is the faith of the heart, and its original impress,\nwhen rightly trained in the science of ethics, and enlightened\nby pure and simple reason, produces its results in the best\nexemplification of the christian character.\n\n\nNote 57, page 165.\n\nThat person has no right to complain of the shortness of life,\nwho lies in bed, either sleeping, or dozing, until nine; and\nthus voluntarily consigns to unconsciousness a twelfth part of\nhis existence. As little reason has he for indulging a querulous\nspirit on this score, if he spends without object a considerable\nportion of his time with people, about whom he knows nothing,\nexcept that they are incapable of furnishing a moment\u2019s pleasure,\nor instruction to any one. If each one noted down at night the\nincidents of the day, that had occupied his time, and how much of\nit he had appropriated to each, I fear all that portion, that we\ncall people of leisure would be able to show but a lean schedule\neither of utility or enjoyment, as the result.\n\nComplaints of the brevity of life are equally interdicted to all\nthose, who do not wisely improve every hour of the brief and\nuncertain present. He, who regretted his stinted fortune, would\nfind, and deserve little sympathy, if, in the very moments of\ncomplaining, he was seen inconsiderately squandering from that\nlimited fund. To form a resolution to mark every moment of life,\nthat we might, with a succession of pleasant ideas, would probably\ntriple the duration of most human lives. To sleep no more than\nnature requires, to rise early, to discipline ourselves to preserve\nan elastic and active spirit and a vigorous will, are parts of\nthis resolution. It is a much greater part, than is commonly\napprehended, to waste as little time as possible on those, who are\nincapable of understanding us, and whom we are as little capable of\nunderstanding. Reciprocal good feeling is much more likely to be\ncreated, and sustained by those who are determined to avoid this\ncourse, than those who, from mere unmeaning civility and common\netiquette, bring their incompatibilities together, to make common\nstock of a mutual weariness with each other, which soon ripens into\nconcealed, if not expressed ill feeling.\n\nThey, who are accustomed to think in this direction, will easily\nfill out the fine outline of the author\u2019s views touching the right\nmode to arrest the flight of time. To add to this sketch would\nrequire an extent of detail, for which I have here no place. The\ngeneral principle of this process seems to consist in meeting pain\nand adversity with a spirit so philosophic and firm that they will\nrecoil from it; and to dwell upon every innocent enjoyment, as\nthough it were our first, and would be our last; to prolong it by\ninvesting it with all possible moral relations; and to discipline\nthe mind never to become hackneyed, sated, wearied, and callous to\nthe sense of objects in which man is bound to feel an interest,\nalike by his duty and his nature.\n\nNever was a more stupid maxim, than that common one, that _nil\nadmirari_ is the proper motto of a philosopher. To preserve a\nfreshness, a juvenile sensibility of the heart for the admiration\nof whatever is new, beautiful and striking, for all the pleasures\nof taste and the understanding, seems to me the true secret of\nthe highest wisdom. Who can fail to be inspired with disgust at\nwitnessing the common spectacle of _cognoscenti_, men of _virtu_,\ntravelled fools, who have been everywhere, and seen everything; and\nby the contemptuous sneer, with which they effect to see, hear,\nfeel and speak of all, that passes under their present observation,\ninstruct you, that they are too wise, and of a taste too refined,\nto be pleased with what satisfies untravelled people. For my part,\nwhen I hear them boast of the music, paintings and architecture\nof continental Europe, and England, as though all the sources of\nbeauty were there, I can only say, that nature is always at hand,\nto mock at all the puny efforts of art; that she delights to mould\nliving faces and forms in remote country cottages, that no _beau\nid\u00e9al_ can reach; that the songs of the birds, that return from\nother climes to their forsaken groves with the first sunny days\nof spring constitute a music richer to the heart, than the most\nfashionable opera; and that a pure spring landscape is a pictured\nthousand times more splendid, than any that ever adorned the walls\nof the Louvre. He, who preserves, to his utmost age, his youthful\nsensibility of heart, and who is willing to be pleased with\nwhatever will impart innocent pleasure, will find innumerable and\nnever failing occasions to give his heart up to the full impulses\nof joy.\n\n\u2018I pity,\u2019 says Sterne, \u2018the man, who can travel from Dan to\nBeersheba, and cry \u2019tis all barren; and yet so it is; and so is\nall the world, to him who will not cultivate the fruits it offers.\nI declare said I, clapping my hands cheerly together, that were\nI in a desert, I would find in it the wherewith to call forth\nmy affections. If I could not do better, I would fasten them on\nsome sweet myrtle, or seek some melancholy cypress, to connect\nmyself to. I would court its shade, and greet it kindly for its\nprotection; I would cut my name upon it, and swear, it was the\nloveliest tree in the desert. If its leaves withered, I would teach\nmyself to mourn; and when they rejoiced, I would rejoice with them.\u2019\n\n\nNote 58, page 166.\n\nI consider it no unimportant part of the process of prolonging our\nearthly sojourn, to lay in, if I may so speak, as great a stock\nas possible, of pleasant remembrances. I appeal to the experience\nof every one, if the sudden recollection of a foolish thing that\nwe have said, or done, returning upon us after a lapse of years,\nhas not brought back with the convulsive shudder of shame, a long\ntrain of associated remembrances, which have carried us back whole\ndays upon the scene? How long seem the periods, in which these\nincidents occurred! Pleasant recollections are no less efficient,\nin prolonging the periods, in which they occurred, adding their\nduration to the sum of the fugitive existence that is stealing from\nus.\n\nFor myself I can confidently affirm, that I have long since learned\nto find my purest and most abiding satisfactions in the memory\nof the past. I repeat all its happier passages and incidents. I\nrecall the bright days, verdant landscapes, loved persons, and\njoyous sensations from their shadowy mansions. I renew my youthful\nsports; and watch for the trout along the flush spring brooks. I\nseat myself again on the sunny banks of the pleasant spots of my\ncareer. I would be glad to convey some idea of the vivid pleasure,\nI experience after a lapse of forty winters, from the deeply\nimpressed remembrance of one beautiful spring morning, after a\nlong and severe winter, when I was still a school-boy. The vast\nmasses of snow were beginning to melt. The birds of prey, shut up\nin their retreats during the bitter winter, sailed forth in the\nmild clear blue. The blue bird whistled; and my heart expanded with\njoy and delight unknown, in the same degree, before or since. The\nplace where these thoughts, comprising my youthful anticipations,\nhopes and visions occurred, will never be obliterated from my mind,\nwhile memory holds her seat. I have a thousand such treasured\nrecollections, with which I can at any time, and to a certain\nextent, cheer pain, sorrow and decay. These are enjoyments stored\nbeyond the reach of fortune, which we can prolong, and renew at\npleasure.\n\nIs there not practical wisdom, in commencing every day with the\nsteady effort, to make as much of it, as if it were to be our whole\nexistence. If we have duties to perform, in themselves severe and\nlaborious, we may inquire, if there be not some way, by which to\ninvest them with pleasant associations? A man may find amusement\nin his free thoughts, while following his plough upon the hill\nside; in digging up the words for a dictionary, or in copying out\na brief. He may train himself, by an inefficient and shrinking\nspirit, to recoil from these tasks, as insupportable burdens. How\nmany men find their pleasure, in what would be the positive horror\nand torment of the indolent! How weak the spirit, and how silly\nthe vanity which we display, in ever renewing narrations of our\nlittle personal troubles, pains and misfortunes! If we would have\nthe discretion to measure the sympathy, which we may expect from\nothers, in such discourses, by that, which we are conscious of\nfeeling for theirs of the same character, it would go far to teach\nus the folly of that querulous spirit, which doles forth the story\nof sufferings and sorrows, as though the narrator were the only\nsufferer, and were entitled to a monopoly of all the passing pity.\n\n\nNote 59, page 169.\n\nThis compendium of the moral acquirements, entering into the\ncharacter of an accomplished philosopher, I consider one of the\nhappiest, which any book of morals can show. Here is an ample\nvolume of ethics, on a page. How differently would a modern\nauto-biographer have announced the same facts! In what rounded\nperiods and circuitous expressions would he have striven to\nconvey the same ideas, to impress the reader, that his modesty\nforbade the frank personality of the Roman philosopher. The\nwhole spirit of this admirable summary would have evaporated in\nbarren generalities. What we admire in the ancients is their\nnoble simplicity and directness, which disdains the vanity of\ncircumlocution, that wishes to hide itself under the semblance of\nmodesty.\n\nIt seems to me, that it would not be amiss for the clergy of the\nday to seek the models of their homilies and sermons in such a\nmanner of declaring moral truth. Abstract ethical declamation,\nand all the scholastic acquirements and the _lim\u00e6 labor_ are but\npoor substitutes for that searching directness, which, avoiding\nabstractions and generalities, appeals at once to the personal\nconsciousness. I allow, that I should love to hear such sermons,\nas that of Dr Primrose to his fellow prisoners, in the Vicar of\nWakefield. There is no eloquence, there can be none, except in\nsimple and direct appeals to thought and conscience.\n\n\nNote 60, page 171.\n\nVarious writers of splendid genius have tasked their imagination,\nto present us with the results of endowing a person with\nimmortality on earth. Such a character has been delineated with\ngreat power by Godwin, in his St Leon; and by Croly in the story\nof _Salathiel, or the Wandering Jew_. It is an instructive labor,\nto record the wanderings, changes, weariness, abandonment, and\nfinal despair of a wretch cursed with immortality; and by the\ncircumstance rendered a monster, out of relation with human beings;\nand cut off from all real sympathy with his mortal kind. It is\nquestionable, whether these writers, or any others who have drawn\nsimilar pictures, have formed adequate conceptions, of what would\nbe the actual result of an earthly immortality. The view of the\nauthor before me seems just. I can easily imagine the immortal\ndelivered from earthly sorrows. But, when I contemplate him\ndivested of the hopes, fears, affections and sympathies, which\ntrace their origin to our common mortal nature, I cannot imagine\nthe affections, that are to replace these.\n\nI can conceive none other, than a being, who would become drowsy\nat sixty, and sleepy at a hundred. All beyond presents to me a\nlethargy of almost unconscious existence, from which my fancy can\ndevise no effort of sufficient energy to arouse him. In fact, it\nis sufficient, that nature has awarded, in her universal decree,\nthat man should not be out of analogy and relation with the rest\nof nature; to convince us, that the decision involves our best\ninterest. The more our views of nature enlarge, the more we become\nconscious, that she has arranged all her laws with such perfect\nwisdom, that if we could reverse any of them, we should do it at\nthe expense of our own happiness.\n\nOf all pictures of men, rendered immortal upon earth, the most\nforcible, brief and revolting, is that of Swift. \u2018After this\npreface, he gave me a particular account of the Struldbrugs among\nthem. He said, they commonly acted like mortals, till about\nthirty years old; after which they grew melancholy and dejected,\nincreasing in both till they came to fourscore. This he learned\nfrom their own confession; for otherwise, there not being more than\ntwo or three of that species born in an age, they were too few to\nform a general observation by. When they come to fourscore years,\nwhich is reckoned the extremity of living in this country, they\nhad not only all the follies and infirmities of other men, but\nmany more, which arose from the dreadful prospect of never dying.\nThey were not only opinionative, covetous, peevish, morose, vain,\ntalkative, but incapable of friendship, and dead to all natural\naffection, which never descended below their grandchildren. Envy\nand their impotent desires are their prevailing passions. But those\nobjects, against which their envy seems particularly directed,\nare the vices of the younger sort, and the death of the old. By\nreflecting on the former, they find themselves cut off from all\npossibility of pleasure; and whenever they see a funeral, they\nlament, and repine, that others have gone to a harbor of rest, at\nwhich they can never hope to arrive. They have no remembrance of\nanything, but what they learned, and observed in their youth and\nmiddle age, and even that is very imperfect; and for the truth or\nparticulars of any fact, it is safer to depend on common tradition,\nthan their best recollection. The least miserable among them, are\nthose, who turn to dotage, and entirely lose their memories. These\nmeet with more pity and assistance, because they want many bad\nqualities, which abound in others.\n\n\u2018If a Struldbrug happen to marry one of his kind, the marriage is\ndissolved of course, by the courtesy of the kingdom, as soon as the\nyounger of the two comes to be fourscore; for the law thinks it a\nreasonable indulgence, that those, who are condemned, without any\nfault of their own, to a perpetual continuance in the world, should\nnot have their misery doubled by the load of a wife. As soon as\nthey have completed the term of eighty years, they are considered\ndead in law. At ninety they lose their teeth and hair, and have\nno distinction of taste, but eat and drink whatever they can get,\nwithout relish or appetite. The diseases they were subject to,\nstill continue without increasing, or diminishing. In talking, they\nforget the common appellations of things, and the names of persons,\neven of those, who are their nearest friends and relations. For the\nsame reason, they can never amuse themselves with reading, because\ntheir memory will not serve to carry them from the beginning of a\nsentence to the end; and by this defect they are deprived of the\nonly entertainment whereof they might be capable.\n\n\u2018They were the most mortifying sight I ever beheld, and the\nwomen more horrible than the men. Besides the usual deformities\nin extreme old age, they acquired an additional ghastliness, in\nproportion to their number of years, which is not to be described;\nand among half a dozen, I soon distinguished who was the oldest,\nalthough there was not above a century or two between them.\n\n\u2018The reader will easily believe, from what I have heard and seen,\nthat my keen appetite for perpetuity and life was much abated. I\ngrew heartily ashamed of the pleasing visions I had formed, and\nthought no tyrant could invent a death into which I would not run\nwith pleasure, from such a life. The king heard all that had passed\nbetween me and my friends upon this occasion, and rallied me very\npleasantly, wishing I could send a couple of Struldbrugs to my own\ncountry, to arm our people against the fear of death.\u2019\n\n\nNote 61, page 171.\n\nFear, absolutely useless, gratuitous fear, probably constitutes\nmuch the largest proportion of the whole mass of human misery;\nand of this proportion the fear of death is the principal part.\nThere are but very few people who, in examining the feeling of\nrevulsion and horror, most constantly present to their minds, will\nnot find it to be the dread of death. The whole observation, which\nI have made upon human nature, has only enlightened me the more\nas to the universality and extent of the influence of this evil.\nI see it infusing bitterness into the bosoms of the young, before\nthey are as yet capable of reflection; and ceasing not to inspire\nits terrors into the heart, which has experienced the sorrows of\nfourscore winters. I see little difference in the alarm with which\nit darkens the mind of the heir, elate with youthful hope, and the\ngalley slave--those apparently the most happy, and the tenants of\npenitentiaries and lazar-houses. All cling alike convulsively to\nlife, and shudder at the thought of death.\n\nPart, and perhaps the greater part, of this fear is a sad\nheritage, which has been transmitted down to us, an accumulating\nfund of sorrow, for a hundred generations. I have stated my\nconviction in another place, that our education, religious\nceremonies, domestic manners, in short, all the influences of the\npresent institutions of society tend to increase this evil. I am\nwell aware, at the same time, that the number of those, who will\nadmit it to be an evil, is but small. Most view it as it has been\nconsidered in all Christian countries, from time immemorial, as\nan instrument in the hand of God and his servants, to awe, and\nrestrain the mind, recall it from illusions and vanities, and\nreduce it to the seriousness and obedience of religion. The broad\ndeclamation of the pulpit for effect, revolting representations of\nhell-torment and the vindictive justice of God, have passed with\na readier tolerance, under a kind of tacit allowance, that if the\nmeans were unworthy, the proposed end was such as would sanctify\nthem. It is almost unnecessary to remark, that all my hope of\nproducing any useful impression is with the small, but growing\nnumber, (in the next age, I trust, it will be a majority) who\nhold this whole doctrine in utter unbelief; who have no faith in\namendment and conversion, that grows out of the base and servile\nprinciple of fear; and least of all the fear of death; who believe\nthat a great reform, a thorough amelioration of our species, will\nnever be effected, until it is made a radical principle of our\nwhole discipline, and all our social institutions, to bring this\nservile passion completely under the control of our reason. With\nthese, it is a deep and fixed conviction, that every thing base,\ndegrading and destructive of intellect and improvement, readily\nassociates with fear; and that the basis of true religion, generous\nconception, high thoughts and really noble character, is firmly\nlaid in a young mind, when trained to become as destitute of fear,\nas if it were conscious of being a sinless angel, above the reach\nof pain or death.\n\nIt would be to no purpose for me to pause in this place, to obviate\nthe strictures of those who will denounce this doctrine, by quoting\nfrom the scriptures the frequent inculcations of the _fear of the\nLord_, and the Apostle\u2019s declaration, that by the _terrors of the\nLord we persuade men_. The true and religious fear, inculcated\nin the scriptures, not only has no relation to the passion I am\ndiscussing, but cannot exist, any more than the other requisite\ntraits of religious character, in a bosom swayed by the grovelling\nand selfish passion of servile fear.\n\nThat nature has implanted in our bosoms an instinctive dread of\ndeath, I readily admit. But fear, as a factitious and unnatural\naddition to the true instincts of human nature, has been so\naccumulated by rolling down through a hundred generations, that we\nare in no condition to know the degree, in which nature intended\nwe should possess it. We have innumerable base propensities,\nwhich we charge upon nature, that are, in fact, no more, than the\nguilty heritage, bequeathed us by our ancestors. Nature could have\nimplanted no higher degree of instinctive dread of death, than\njust what was requisite, to preserve the race from prodigal waste,\nor rash exposure of a gift, which, once lost, is irretrievable.\nIf nature has inwrought in any constitution one particle of fear,\nbeyond what was required for this result, she has, as in all other\nexcessive endowments, granted reason and judgment, to regulate, and\nreduce it to its due subordination.\n\nWill not religion achieve the great triumph of casting out the\nbase principle of fear? I would be the last to deny, or undervalue\nthe trophies of true religion. I have no doubt that religion has,\nin innumerable instances, extracted the pain and poison from the\nsting of death. More than this, it would unquestionably produce\nthis triumph in every case, if every individual were completely\nunder the influence of the true principle. It would attain this end\nby processes and discipline exactly concurrent, if not similar,\nwith those I am about to propose. But it is a lamentable fact,\nthat very few are under the influence of true religion. Of those,\nwhom charity deems most sincerely pious, under all professions and\nforms, the far greater number exhibit, on the bed of dangerous\nsickness, the same fear of death with the rest. We consider this\na generally conceded fact; for, among all but the most extravagant\nsects, death-bed terror, or triumph has ceased to be considered a\ntest of the personal religion of the deceased. Even in the cases\nof enthusiastic triumph in the last moments, which we have all\nwitnessed, and which are justly so soothing to the survivors, it\nwould often be difficult to determine the respective influence of\nlaudanum, and partial insanity doing its last work upon the nervous\nsystem.\n\nBe this as it may, the triumph over the fear of death, which I\nwould inculcate, should not be tested by the equivocal deportment\nof the patient, in the near view of death; but by his own joyous\nconsciousness of deliverance from this tormenting thraldom and\nbondage, during his whole life. Let fear and horror crowd what\nbitterness they may into the last few hours, it can bear but little\nproportion to the long agony of a whole life, passed in _bondage\nthrough fear of death_. To produce the desired triumph, the highest\ntraining of philosophy should concur with the paternal spirit and\nthe immortal hopes of the gospel; and a calm, reasoning, unboasting\nfearlessness of death should enable us to taste all the little of\npure and innocent joy, that may be found between the cradle and\nthe grave--as unmolested, as unsprinkled with this fear, as if the\ndestroyer were not among the works of God.\n\nHow may this result be obtained? How may a generation be so trained\nas to lose not a particle of enjoyment, nor be influenced to one\nunworthy act, by the fear of death? To answer these questions, in\nthe requisite detail of illustration, would require volumes. It\nmight, perhaps, best be done by selecting a single child as an\nexample; and by developing, at every advancing step, the process\nof his training; pointing out every instance, in which it would be\nnecessary to withdraw him from the influence of the present systems\nof discipline; in which, in a word, his whole education should\nbe conducted with a preponderant purpose, among other desirable\nresults, to render him perfectly fearless of death. It is hoped\nthat some one of those, who believe this a chief desideratum in the\nreformation and improvement of the present system of education,\nwill take this great point in hand; and in this way indicate to\nthe age the modes of discipline, through which this result may\nbe expected. It is obvious, that a much severer discipline would\nbe required for the first generation so trained, than for the\nsecond; who, with less transmitted cowardice than their parents,\nwould perpetuate a constantly improving moral constitution to the\ngenerations to come. My present plan admits only a brief summary of\nmotives and arguments, commonly adduced, as calculated to diminish,\nregulate, and subdue the fear of death. It is evident, that these\nmotives and arguments are predicated upon present opinions, and\nsuch as may be supposed capable of acting upon the existing\ngeneration, enduring the hereditary and inculcated bondage of this\npassion.\n\n1. The terrific and undefinable images of horror, that\nimagination affixes to the term _death_, are founded in an entire\nmisconception. The word is the sign of no positive idea whatever.\nIt conjures up a shadowy horror to the mind, finely delineated,\nas a poetic personage, by Milton; and implies some agony that is\nsupposed to lie between the limits of existence and non-existence,\nor existence in another form. This is simple illusion. So long\nas we feel, death is not--and when we cease to feel, or commence\nfeeling in a changed form, death has been:--_fuit mors_. So\nthat the term imports a mere phantom of the imagination. In the\nwords of Droz, \u2018it is not yet; or it is past.\u2019 If one can arrest\nthe _punctum stans_, and the actual sensation, where waking\nconsciousness terminates, and sleep commences, he can tell us, what\ndeath is. Every one is conscious of having passed through this\nchange; but no one can give any account, what were his sensations\nin the dividing moment of interval between wakefulness and sleep.\n\n2. Imagination is allowed to settle all the circumstances, and\nform all the associations belonging to the supposed agony of this\nevent. It is one of the few important incidents in life, upon which\nreason is never allowed to fix a calm and severe scrutiny. It has\nbeen seen in a light, too sacred and terrible, to permit such a\nlustration. \u2018It is dreadful,\u2019 says common apprehension, \u2018for it\nis the breaking up the long and tender partnership, and producing\na separation between the body and the soul--dreadful, because it\nis the wages of sin, and is appointed to be a perpetual memorial\nof the righteous displeasure of God in view of sin;\u2019 \u2018dreadful,\u2019\nsay others, who most unphilosophically believe that man was not\noriginally intended to be mortal, \u2018because a violence upon nature;\ndreadful, because a departure of the spirit from the regions\nof the living, and the light of the sun, into an unknown and\neternal condition. Suns will revolve, moons wax and wane, years,\nrevolutions, ages, counted by all the particles of mist in the\nsea, will elapse, but the place, whence the spirit is gone, will\nnever know it more.\u2019 \u2018It is terrible,\u2019 says common apprehension,\n\u2018for it is often preceded and accompanied by spasm, and convulsive\nstruggle.\u2019 The psalmody, which we sing in church, speaks of the\n_ghastly paleness_, the _chill sweat_, and the _mortal coldness_,\ncircumstances all, which, seen in other associations, would assume\nno aspect of peculiar terror.\n\nThen, too, the attendants in the sick room with a look of horror\ninspect the extremities of the patient, and petrify bystanders with\nthe terrible words, \u2018he is struck with death,\u2019 as though the grisly\nphantom king of the poet\u2019s song had invisibly glided in, and, with\nhis icy sceptre, given his victim the blow of mortal destiny. Who\nknows not that, though there are usually mortal symptoms, which\nenable an experienced eye to foresee approaching dissolution,\nthe term _death-struck_ imports nothing but the weakest vulgar\nprejudice, a prejudice under the influence of which millions have\nbeen suffered to expire, that might have been roused! Innumerable\npersons, pronounced to be in that situation, have actually\nrecovered; and no moment, in the ordinary forms of disease, can\nwith any certainty be pronounced beyond hope and the chances of\naid, but that which succeeds the last sigh. Thus every thought of\nthe living, and every aspect of the dying, by a wayward ingenuity,\nheightens the imagined horror of the event.\n\nThen there are conversations and hymns and funeral odes and\nNight Thoughts, which speak of the coldness, silence and eternal\ndesolation of the grave; as though the unconscious sleeper felt the\nchill of the superincumbent clay, the darkness of his narrow house\nor this terrible isolation from the living. The pale and peaceful\ncorpse is contemplated with a look of horror. Two, of stout heart\nand tried friendship, abide near the kneaded clod, until the living\nare relieved from their ghostly terrors, by its deposition out of\ntheir sight in the narrow house. The family, the children, the\nfriends alike showing the creeping horror, glide quick and silently\non tiptoe through the apartment, where the sleeper lies. The first\nnightfall after the disease is one of peculiar and unmitigated\nhorror. The family, however disinclined to union before, this\nevening unite, with that impress on their countenances, which words\nreach not. Now return to their thoughts the nursery tales, the\nthrilling narratives of haunted houses and wandering ghosts; and\nif the minister comes among them, it is probably to evoke before\ntheir imaginations condemned spirits doomed to eternal sufferings,\nquenchless flames, groans without respite, and all the ineffable\nand eternal torments, that the clerical vocabulary of centuries has\naccumulated.\n\nNeed we wonder, that in a christian country, and among families\nof the best training, such impressions have become so universal,\nthat they, who would be reputed brave, blazon their courage, by\naffirming their readiness to sleep in a cemetery, or the funeral\nvault of a church! It requires no extraordinary effort, and nothing\nmore than the simple triumph of reason among the faculties, to\nenable any man, to sleep alone in a charnel house with as little\ndread, as in the apartment of an inn, so that the places were alike\nin comfort and salubrity. It does not require us to be wise, or\ncourageous; but simply not cowards and fools, to feel as little\nhorror in the view of corpses, as statues of plaster or marble.\nOne of the most terrible ideas of death, after all, is, that we\nshall thus, immediately upon our decease, inflict this shrinking\nrevulsion of terror upon all, who look at our remains.\n\nThe view, which reason takes of the sick and dying bed is, that,\nin the far greater number of mortal cases, the transition from\nlife to death is as imperceptible, as the progress of the sun\nand the seasons. One faculty dies after another. The victim has\nreceived the three warnings unconsciously. Ordinarily, a person may\nbe said to have paid a third part of his tribute of mortality at\nforty-five; half at fifty-five; and the whole at three score and\nten.\n\nWhen acute and severe sickness assails the patient, he has passed\nthrough what may be called the agony of death at a very early\nperiod of his disease. His chief suffering is past, as soon the\nirritability and the vigorous powers of life have been broken down.\nWhen the disorder assumes the typhoid and insensible form, the\ndull sleep, that precedes the final rest of the tomb, is already\ncreeping upon him; and severe suffering is precluded. If there are\nconvulsions after this, as often happens, they are seldom more\nthan spasmodic movements, impressed by the nervous action upon\nthe tendons, more terrible to the beholder, than the sufferer;\ndiffering little from those starts and struggles, with which many\npersons in high health commence sleeping and waking. He who has\nexperienced the sensation of fainting, and, still more, of an\nepileptic fit, has suffered, I am ready to believe, all that there\nis in dying.\n\n3. Reason, calmly surveying the case of the dying person himself,\nsees many alleviations, of which imagination, sketching under\nthe influence of the dread of death, takes no account. He finds\nhimself, in this new predicament, the absorbing object of all\ninterests and all solicitude and affection. It is not in human\nnature, that this should not call up complacent emotions and\nslumbering affections from their secret cells. The subsequent\nprogress towards the last moment brings an imperceptibly increasing\ninsensibility, manifested by drowsiness and sleep. Of those, who\npreserve the exercise of their faculties entire to the last, many\ninstances are recorded of persons, who had shown the most unmanly\ndread of death in their health, that have met dissolution with the\ncalmness of perfect self-possession. Of the rest, the greater\nnumber die with little more apparent pain and struggle, than\naccompany the act of sleeping. The greater freshness, vigor and\nnervous irritability of young people and children cause that most\nof the exceptions are of this description. In a great number of\ncases, which I have witnessed, I have paused in doubt, whether the\nperson had yielded his last sigh, or not, after he had actually\ndeceased. To soften the last infliction, nature almost invariably\nveils it under a low delirium, or absolute unconsciousness.\n\n4. It is impossible to imagine a more obvious and unquestionable\nprinciple of philosophy, than that every reasoning faculty of our\nnature must declare to us, loudly and unequivocally, and with an\ninfluence as strong as reason can command, that it is wisdom, nay,\nthe dictate of the least portion of common sense, to dread, to\nresist, to repine, to groan, as little as possible, in view of an\nendurance absolutely inevitable. If it be hard to sustain when met\nwith a fearless, resigned and unmurmuring spirit, it must certainly\nbe still harder, when we are obliged to bend our necks to it with\nthe excruciating addition of shrinking fear, dreadful anticipation\nand ineffectual struggles to evade it, and with murmurs and groans,\nat finding the inutility of these efforts. Innumerable examples\nprove to us, that nature has kindly endowed us with reason and\nmental vigor to such an extent, that, under the influence of\nright motive and training, no possible form of suffering can be\npresented, over which this power may not manifest, and has not\nmanifested a complete triumph.\n\nOf these innumerable examples, it is only necessary to cite those\nof the martyrs, of all forms of religion. These prove farther,\nthat this undaunted self-possession, in every conceivable shape\nand degree of agony, was not the result of a rare and peculiar\ntemperament, a want of sensibility, or the possession of uncommon\nphysical courage; that it was not because there was no perception\nof danger, or susceptibility of pain; this magnanimity, this\nimpassibility to fear and pain and death has been exhibited in\nnearly equal degrees by people of every age, each sex and all\nconditions. Let the proper motive be supplied, let the martyr have\nhad the common influence of the training of his faith, and the\nconsequence failed not. All the shades and varieties of natural and\nmental difference of character were noted in the deportment of the\nsufferers. But they were alike in the stern proof of a courage,\nwhich defied death. The fact is proved by them, as strongly as\nmoral fact can be proved, that the mind of every individual might\nfind in itself native self-possession and vigor, to enable it to\ndisplay an entire ascendency over fear, pain and death.\n\nNor does this fact rest solely for support on the history of\nmartyrs, or sufferers at an _Auto da f\u00e9_, or by torture in any of\nits forms. We could find examples of it in every department of\nhistory, and every view of human character. The red men of our\nwilderness, as we have elsewhere seen, are still more astonishing\nillustrations of this fact--I say astonishing, because the timid\nand effeminate white man shivers, and scarcely credits his senses,\nas he sees the young Indian warrior smoking his pipe, singing\nhis songs, boasting of his victories and uttering his menaces,\nwhen enveloped in a slow fire, apparently as unmoved, as reckless\nand unconscious of pain, as if sitting at his ease in his own\ncabin. All, that has been found necessary, by this strange\npeople, to procure this heroism, is, that the children, from\nboyhood, should be constantly under a discipline, every part and\nevery step of which tends directly to shame and contempt at the\nleast manifestation of cowardice, in view of any danger, or of a\nshrinking consciousness of pain in the endurance of any suffering.\nThe males, so trained, never fail to evidence the fruit of their\ndiscipline. Sentenced to death, they almost invariably scorn to fly\nfrom their sentence, when escape is in their power. If in debt,\nthey desire a reprieve, that they may hunt, until their debts\nare paid. They then voluntarily return, and surrender themselves\nto the executioner. Nothing is more common than for a friend to\npropose to suffer for his friend, a parent for a child, or a child\nfor a parent. When the sufferer receives the blow, there is an\nunblenching look, which manifests the presence of the same spirit,\nthat smokes with apparent unconcern amidst the crackling flames.\n\nA proof, that this is the fruit of training, and not of native\ninsensibility, as others have thought, and as I formerly thought\nmyself, is that this contempt of pain and death is considered a\ndesirable trait only in the males. To fly, like a woman, like her\nto laugh, and weep, and groan, are expressions of contempt, which\nthey apply to their enemies with ineffable scorn. The females,\nalmost excluded from witnessing the process of Spartan discipline,\nby which the males acquire their mental hardihood, partake not of\nthe fruits of it, and with some few exceptions, are shrinking and\ntimid, like the children of civilization.\n\nI know, that there will not be wanting those, who will condemn\nalike the training and the heroism, as harsh, savage, unfeeling,\nstoical and unworthy to be admitted, as an adjunct to civilization.\nBut no one will offer to deny, that the primitive Christian, put in\nconflict with a hungry lion, that Rogers at the Smithfield stake,\nthat the young captive warrior, exulting, and chanting his songs\nwhile enduring the bitterest agonies that man can inflict, in the\nserene and sublime triumph of mind over matter, and spirit over the\nbody, is the most imposing spectacle we can witness, the clearest\nproof we can contemplate, that we have that within us which is not\nall of clay, nor all mortal; or doubt, that these persons endure\ninfinitely less physical pain, in consequence of their heroic\nself-possession, than they would have suffered, had they met their\ntorture in paroxysms of terror, shrinking and self-abandonment.\n\nHowever we may reason, however we may decry these views, as\nsavage, impracticable, unnatural and undesirable, the fact is,\nthat we all feel alike upon this subject. The thousands in a Roman\namphitheatre only evinced a trait, that belongs to our common\nnature, when they instantly, and without consulting each other,\ngave the signal to save that gladiator, who most clearly manifested\ncool self-possession and contempt of death. After witnessing the\nexecution of a criminal, who shows courage, the spectators go away\ndescribing, with animated gesture, and in terms of admiration, the\nfearlessness of the fellow the moment before his death. We all\nspeak with unmingled satisfaction of the circumstance, in the death\nof our friends, that they departed in the conscious dignity of\nself-possession and hope. All readers are moved with one sensation,\nas they read the record of the noble trait in the character of\nC\u00e6sar, gracefully folding himself in his mantle, after he had\nreceived so many mortal thrusts. Few of us hear unmoved of the old\nEnglish patriot, who requested the executioner to support him up\nthe steps to the scaffold, adding that he would shift for himself\nto get down; or of the other, who cried, as he stooped his head to\nthe block, _dulce et decorum est pro patria mori_! If I recollect,\nit is Silliman, who gives the affecting notice of the last hours of\nthe duke of Richmond, the late governor general of Canada. Invested\nwith all conceivable circumstances to render life desirable, he\nwas bitten by a favorite dog in a rabid state; and died, in the\nmost excruciating tortures, of the terrible hydrophobia. When\nthe horrible paroxysm was felt by him to be approaching, he was\naccustomed to nerve his sinking courage by these words; \u2018Henry,\nremember, that none of your ancestors were cowards.\u2019 I give the\ntrait from recollection, but have heard substantially the same\naccount from other sources. This is the secret of the perverse\ngeneral admiration of warriors, and heroes, and great generals. It\nis this principle in its blindness, which finds a niche of favor\nin so many hearts for duellists. In a word, intrepidity, deny it\nwho may, is the trait which finds more universal favor with human\nnature in general than any other. Why? Because we are weak and\nfrail beings, exposed to innumerable pains and dangers; and the\nquality we most frequently need, is courage. Without it life is\na living death, a long agony of fear. With it, we die but once,\nenduring at the most but a momentary pang, never anticipated, never\nembittering a moment in advance with imaginary suffering.\n\nWe have no hesitation in affirming, that it would be no more\ndifficult to educate the coming generation of civilized people to\nthis spirit, than it is to impart it to the whole race of males\namong the red men. However inferior we may count these people, in\ncomparison with ourselves in other respects, they have at least one\nmanifest advantage over us; they never torment themselves, because\nthey know they must die.\n\nBut we are told that the actual possession of this spirit would\nproduce such a recklessness of life, that the great ends of\nProvidence would be defeated; and people would expose themselves\nto death with so little concern, that the race would waste away\nand become extinct. We never need combat a theory, an abstract\nopinion, when the case can be settled by a fact. Is it so with the\nwarriors of the red men? On the contrary, can another people be\nfound so wary, so adroit to evade, or resist danger, so fertile\nin expedients to save life? The coward of their number meets the\ndeath he would fly; and the intrepid warrior puts forth all the\nresources of his instinctive sagacity, all his keen and practised\ndiscernment, to discover the best means of evasion. If he must meet\nthat death, which his skill cannot evade, nor his powers resist, he\ninstantly settles down upon the resource of his invincible heroism\nof endurance.\n\nIn fact, one of the direct fruits of the intrepidity we would\nwish to see universal, is, that it will give its possessor all\npossible chances for preserving health and life. It saves him from\nthe influence of fear, a passion among the most debilitating, and\nadverse to life, of any to which our nature is subject. Braced by\nhis courage, he passes untouched amidst a contagious epidemic, to\nwhich the timid and apprehensive nature falls a victim. In danger\nit gives him coolness and self-command, to discover, and avail\nhimself of all his chances of wise resistance, or probable escape.\nIn sickness, he has all the aids to recover, which nature allows,\nin being delivered from the most dangerous symptom in innumerable\nmaladies, the debilitating persuasion of the patient, that he shall\nnot rise from his sickness. In a word, the direct reverse of the\ncharge is the fact. The wise and enlightened fearlessness, which\nI consider it so important to acquire, is in every way as much\nthe preserver of life, as it is indispensable to happiness; as\ncowardice proverbially runs in the face of the hideous monster that\nit creates.\n\n5. The fact, that an evil is felt to be alleviated, which is shared\nin common with all around us, has been generally recognised, though\nthis perverted sympathy has been traced to the basest selfishness,\nby a humiliating analysis of our nature, which I have neither space\nnor inclination to develope. We all know, that the same person, who\nis most beneficent, most active in his benevolence, and large in\nhis wishes to do good, would shrink from a great calamity, which\nhe saw himself destined to encounter, for the first and the last\namong his whole race. But inform him, that by an impartial award\nhe shares it in common with all his kind, and you reconcile him at\nonce to his lot. Whether the spirit of his resignation in this case\nbe pure, or polluted in its origin, it is not my present purpose\nto inquire. It is sufficient to be assured, that there is such a\nfeeling deeply inherent in human nature. The suffering patient, as\nhe lays himself down to part from all friends, to be severed from\nall ties, to see the green earth, the bright sun, and the visible\nheavens no more, and to be conscious, that the everlasting circle\nof ages will continue its revolutions without ever bringing him\nback to the forsaken scene, cannot repine, that he has been put\nupon this bitter trial alone. He must be deeply conscious, view\nit in what aspect he may, that it presents no new harshness nor\nhorror to him. Of all the countless millions, that have passed\naway, and been replaced by others, like the vernal leaves, death\nhas stood before every solitary individual of the mighty mass,\nthe same phantom king of terrors. Each has contemplated the same\ninexorable, irreversible award, been held in the same suspense\nof hopes, and fears, and compelled to endure the same struggles.\nLooking upon the immense mortal drama of ages, the actors seem\nslowly and imperceptibly to enter, and depart from the scene. But\nin the lapse of one short age, the hopes, fears, loves and hatreds\nof all the countless millions have vanished, to be replaced by\nthose of another generation. The heart swells at the recollection\nhow much each of these mortals must have endured, in this stern and\ninevitable encounter, as measured by our own suffering in the same\ncase. It is only necessary for the patient to extend his vision\na few years in advance of his own decease; and his friends, his\nchildren, his visitants, all that surround him, will in their turn\nrecline on the same bed. Who cannot feel the palpable folly of\nrepining at an evil shared with all, that have been, are, or will\nbe!\n\n                  \u2018Not to thy eternal resting place,\n      Shalt thou retire alone:    *    *\n          *    *  Thou shalt lie down\n      With patriarchs of the infant world, with kings,\n      The powerful of the earth, the wise, the good,\n      Fair forms and hoary seers of ages past,\n      All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills,\n      Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales\n      Stretching in pensive quietness between;\n      The venerable woods, rivers, that move\n      In majesty, and the complaining brooks,\n      That make the meadows green, and, poured round all,\n      Old ocean\u2019s gray and melancholy waste,\n      Are but the solemn decorations all\n      Of the great tomb of man.\u2019\n\n6. Philosophers and moralists will readily admit, that the only\neasy and adequate remedy for the fear of death is the hope of\nimmortality. On the other hand, they, whose vocation it is to\nquestion and decry the aids, which reason and philosophy offer\nin the case, as sullen, cold, stoical, will not deny, that\n\u2018innumerable\u2019 examples have been offered in all countries, and\nin all time, of men, who, in virtue of no higher discipline\nthan that of reason and philosophy, have met death with such\nunshrinking and invincible firmness, as could hardly have been\nrendered more illustrious by any additional motives. They have\nshown, beyond all question, that nature has furnished us with a\npower of resistance, which, when rightly called forth, enables\nus to triumph over fear and death. The pagans of ancient story,\nthe unbelieving of christian lands, the red men of our forests,\noffer us demonstrations to any extent. I am aware, in what places\nthis simplest of all truths is weakly denied. Those, for whom I\nwrite, are of the number who exact the truth; and I have no fear to\ndeclare it; nor would I contend for a moment with such as deny this\nfact.\n\nBut I am not the less sensible, that the triumph, in these cases,\nis bitter and painful. It can only be obtained by a violence done\nto instinctive nature, connected with innumerable revulsions\nand horrors, and to all those ineffable clingings to earth, and\nshrinkings from the first step into the unknown land, that are\npartly the heritage of nature, and partly the result of the\nconcurrent influence of all our institutions. It is a violence\nto all the passions, affections, hopes and fears fostered by the\nearth. But the victory has been wrought, and can be wrought, even\nthough the bosom, in which it is wrought become as of iron.\n\nBut the same triumph is won by the hope of immortality, by a\nprocess, simple, easy, natural, in entire consonance with the most\ntender affections and lively sympathies of flesh and blood. We lie\ndown in pain and agony, with a spirit of easy endurance, if we have\na confident persuasion that, during the night, we shall have shaken\noff the cause of our sufferings, and shall rise to renewed health\nand freshness in the morning. Death can bring little terror to him,\nwho believes that its darkness will instantly be replaced by the\nlight of another scene: and that the separation from friends in the\nvisible land, is only rejoining the more numerous group, who have\nalready become citizens of the invisible country.\n\nTo what extent am I the subject of this hope myself; and whence\ndo I derive my belief? These are questions which affection will\nask; and the answers, if devoid of interest _now_, will not be so\nwhen the _memory of things that were shall come over the mind of\nthe reader like a cloud_, and when read as the thoughts of one,\nwho, during his whole sojourn, felt and reflected intensely upon\nthose subjects; and who will then himself have passed away to the\nexperience of all that which is here matter of discussion. Those\nmost dear to me will know what relations I sustained to these\nsubjects, during the best part of my life; and will not be without\nsolicitude to know my final thoughts upon them; thoughts, purified\nat least from all stain of party interest and _esprit du corps_,\nand put forth in the simple consciousness of my own convictions,\nhowever they may be powerless to produce belief in the mind of\nany other. With the fierce war cry of sects in religion, in their\nacrimonious and never ending contests about abstract terms without\na meaning, their combats about the vague and technical phrases of\nformulas of faith, I have long since had nothing to do. For many\nyears they have rung on my ear like the distant thunder of clouds\nthat have passed by. To the denunciations of those, who assume\nto hold all truth imprisoned in their articles of confession, if\nI might hope the distinction of receiving them, I am perfectly\ncallous. Neither would I desire to add another book to the millions\nof volumes of polemic theology which already exist, and which have\nas little bearing upon the knowledge, virtue and happiness of the\nage, as the last year\u2019s snow.\n\nWe are, after all, unconsciously influenced, and that in no slight\ndegree, by authority, however humble may be its claims, as a test\nof truth. How did such a person believe on such a point? Many a\nyoung aspirant suspends his opinion, until he hears; and settles\ninto fixed persuasion afterwards. How many are there, in christian\nlands especially, who have never had a wandering or unbelieving\ndoubt of the soul\u2019s immortality float over their minds? How many,\nwho have had no terrene and gross ideas, influenced by seeing the\ntenement of flesh, by which all that was called the mind and the\nsoul stood visible to the eye, and tangible to the thought, yielded\nup to consumption and decay? This is a question which no one can\nanswer for another. For myself, I believe unhesitatingly, and with\nno stain of doubt, that I shall, in some way, exactly provided for\nby Him who made me, exist after death, as simply conscious, that\nI am the same person, as I am now in the morning, that I slept\nat night. Do I derive this conviction from books and reasonings?\nI am by no means sure that I do; though the gospel assuredly\nspeaks directly to my heart. I do ready homage to the talents and\nlearning of Clarke, Locke, Paley, Channing and a cloud of reasoning\nwitnesses, of whom every Christian may well be proud; and, most of\nall, to the profound and admirable Butler.\n\nI hear the author of our faith directly declaring a resurrection\nand immortality. A single assertation from such a source were\nenough. But I find him reasoning, and insisting less upon the\nfact, than I should have expected, had he intended to implant it\nin the mind, as it were a truth, chiefly to be apprehended by the\nunderstanding. It seems to me that he so discusses it, as one who\nwas aware that it was already inwoven in the sentiments and hearts\nof his hearers, vague, dark, without moral consequence, it may be;\nbut an existing sentiment, taken for granted, upon which he might\npredicate his doctrines, as upon a thousand other facts, which we\ncan clearly perceive, he considers already admitted by his hearers.\n\nLet a man walk in the fields on a June morning after night showers.\nLet him seat himself for meditation on the hill-side, under the\ngrateful canopy of foliage. Let him ask himself to embody his\nconceptions of the divinity, and to give form and place to the\nAuthor of the glorious scene outstretched before him. He may have\njust risen from reading the admirable demonstrations of Clarke,\nand the astronomical sermons of Chalmers. He may concentrate his\nconceptions by a fixedness of study, that may amount to pain. He\nmay bewilder his faculties, in attempting to embody something,\nthat his thoughts and reasonings can grasp. I know not what the\npowers of others can achieve in this case. But I know, by painful\nexperiment, what mine cannot. I ask my understanding and reasoning\npowers about this glorious Being. They inform me that it is a\nsubject that comes not within their purview. They can follow\nthe chain of reasoning, see that every link is complete, and the\ndemonstration irresistible. But when they wish to avail themselves\nof their new truth, they have no distinct idea either of premises\nor conclusion. It has evaporated in the analysis.\n\nI ask my heart, or the source of my moral sentiment, be it what it\nmay, the same question. The grateful verdure, the matin freshness,\nthe glad voices, the aroma of flowers, the earth, the rolling\nclouds, the sun, all the lamps, that will burn in the firmament by\nnight, my own happy consciousness in witnessing this impressive\nscene, cry out _a God_. To my heart, it is the first, the simplest,\nmost obvious thought, presenting itself, it seems to me, as soon\nas the consciousness of my own existence; certainly susceptible of\nas little doubt. I have no need to define, analyze, embody. The\nmoment I attempt to do it, my thoughts are vague and unsettled. I\nyield myself to the conviction. My heart swells with gratitude,\nconfidence, love. So good, so beneficent a Being can do nothing but\ngood, in this or any other world, to him who loves and trusts him,\nand strives to obey his laws.\n\nMy most treasured hopes of immortality are from the same source.\nWill this conscious being, capable of such remote excursions into\nthe two eternities between which its existence is suspended, live\nbeyond the present life? Not a particle of matter, for ought\nthat appears, can be annihilated. Will the nobler thoughts, the\nwarmer affections perish, as though they had not been? We ask\nour senses, and they can give us no hope. The body lives, and we\nspeak of it as including the conscious being. We see it die, pass\nunder the empire of corruption, molder, and incorporate with its\nkindred elements. The sensible evidence, that the person exists,\nis entirely destroyed. The most insatiate appetite of our natures,\nhowever, craves continued existence, and ceases not to seek for\nit. The inquirer after immortality cannot but be in earnest in\nthis pursuit. The arguments of the venerable sages of old are\nspread before him. From the soul\u2019s nature, from the unity of\nconsciousness, the incorruptibility of thought, the everlasting\nprogress, of which our faculties are capable, the strong and\nunquenchable desire of posthumous fame, the sacredness of earthly\nfriendships, and similar arguments, they strove to establish, on\nthe basis of reasoning, the conviction of immortality.\n\nFrom these reasonings he repairs to the Scriptures. A strange book,\nutterly unlike any writings that had appeared before, declares\nthat we shall exist forever. The religion which has arisen from\nthis book, in its whole structure and dispensation, is predicated\non the assumed fact, that we shall exist forever in another life,\nhappy or miserable, according to our deeds on earth. Jesus,\n_the author and finisher of this faith_, announces himself _the\nresurrection and the life_; with a voice of power calls his dead\nfriend from the tomb; declares, that death has no power over\nhimself; that, after suffering a violent death, on the third day\nfrom that event, he shall arise from the dead. He arises, according\nto his promise; and, in the midst of his awe-struck friends he\nvisibly ascends to his own celestial sphere. Millions, as by one\nimpulse, catch the spirit of this wonderful book--love each other\nwith anew and single-hearted affection, as unlike the spirit of\nall former ties of kindness and love, as the doctrines of this\nreligion are different from those of paganism. The new sect look\nwith a careless eye upon whatever is transitory; and will submit\nto privation, derision and torture, of whatever form, rather than\nwaver, or equivocate, in declaring themselves subjects of this\nhope of immortality. This Christian hope, in every period from the\ntime of its author, has made its way to the heart of millions, who\nhave laid themselves down on their last bed, and felt the approach\nof their last sleep, expecting, as confidently to open their eyes\non an eternal morning, as the weary laborer, at his evening rest,\ntrusts that he shall see the brightness of the morrow\u2019s dawn.\n\nI recur, with new and unsated satisfaction, to these arguments for\nthe soul\u2019s immortality. I love to evoke the venerable shades of\nSocrates and Plato and Cicero, and hear them, each in his own way,\npersuade himself, that the thoughts and affections, of which he\nwas conscious, could only belong to an immortal spirit. I listen to\nthe eloquent and impressive apostrophe of Tacitus, to the conscious\nspirit of him, whose life he had so charmingly delineated, with\nfeelings which I cannot well describe.\n\n\u2018Si quis piorum manibus locus; si, ut sapientibus placet, non\ncum corpore extinguontur magn\u00e6 anim\u00e6, placide quiescas; nosque,\ndomum tuam, ab infirmo desiderio, et muliebribus lamentis, ad\ncontemplationem virtutum tuarum voces, quas neque lugeri, neque\nplangi fas est: admiratione te potius temporalibus laudibus, et, si\nnatura suppeditet, similitudine decoremus.\u2019[H]\n\nI repair with new confidence and hope to the gospel, and strive to\nimbibe the cheering conviction, as I hear Paul sublimely declare,\n_that this corruptible shall put on incorruption, and this mortal\nimmortality, and that death shall be swallowed up in victory_.\n\nI have no disposition to deny that these arguments would be, in\nthemselves, insufficient to turn the balance against the evidence\nof the senses, and produce the conviction of immortality from the\ndeductions of simple reason, if religion were an impression to be\nraised and sustained by argument. But, if we are religious, in\nsome form, from our very constitution, if immortality be felt as\na sentiment, with more or less clearness and force, I deem that\nthese arguments have their appropriate effect, in giving form and\ndirection to this interior sentiment; that believers have been\nsuch, because these doctrines have found a concurrent sympathy\nin their spirit, a suitableness to the wants of their heart, a\ndevelopment of the germ of their hopes. It seems to me, that\nwhoever has a heart, cannot look upon the earth and the firmament,\nwithout exclaiming \u2018there is a God,\u2019 nor within himself, without a\nconviction, that his soul is immortal.\n\nI see in the enthusiasm,--the embraces, cries, tears, swoonings and\nthe revolting extravagances of various sects under the influence\nof high religious excitement, nothing more than the morbid\ndevelopment of this latent religious sentiment. Instead of being,\nas scoffers affirm, subjects of a mere factitious intoxication,\nthese people, who seem only to demand wings, to soar aloft, are\nonly manifesting the unregulated action of nature working at the\nbottom of their hearts.\n\nFor myself I feel that I am immortal, and that those fellow\nsojourners, to whom I have been attached by the affection of long\nintimacy, and the reception of many and great kindnesses, will\nexist with me hereafter. I pretend to conceive nothing, I wish\nto inquire nothing, about the mode, the place and circumstances.\nI should as soon think of disturbing myself, by endeavoring to\nconceive the ideas that might be imparted by a sixth sense. It is\nsufficient that my heart declares, that a being who has seen this\nglorious world, cherished these warm affections, entertained these\nillimitable aspirations, felt these longings after immortality,\nindulged \u2018_these thoughts, that wander through eternity_,\u2019 _cannot_\nhave been doomed by Him, who gave them, to have them quenched\nforever in annihilation. Even an illusion so glorious would be\nworth purchasing at the price of a world. I would affirm, even to\nrepetition, that there is given us that high and stern power, which\nimplies a courage superior to any conflict, and which gives the\nmind a complete ascendency over any danger, pain or torture, which\nbelongs to life or death. But we would not be so extravagant, as\nfor a moment, to question that death, as the present generation\nhave been trained, and as we are accustomed, by all we see, and\nhear to view it, is a formidable evil, fitly characterized by its\ndread name, _the king of terrors_. Many a debilitating interior\nmisgiving will assail the stoutest mind, in certain moments, in\nview of it. There are dark intervals by night, in the midnight\nhours of pain, periods between the empire of sleep and active\nreason, when the terrific and formless image rushes in its terror\nand indefiniteness upon the mind. As age steals upon us, and the\nvivid perceptions, and the bright dreams of youth disappear, many a\ndark shadow will cloud the sunshine of the soul. The conflict, in\nwhich all these terrors are overcome by unaided nature and reason\nis, as has been seen, a cruel one. The tender sensibilities, the\nkeen affections, the dear and delusive hopes of our nature must all\nbe crushed, before we can be unmoved in the endurance of the pain\nand torture that precede, and the death that follows.\n\nIt is only to a firm and unhesitating faith, that it becomes as\neasy and natural to die, as to sleep. Glorious and blessed hope,\nthe hope of meeting our friends, in the eternal land of those who\ntruly and greatly live forever! There we shall renew our youth, and\n_mount as on the wings of eagles_.\n\n      \u2018But we shall meet, but we shall meet,\n       Where parting tears shall cease to flow:\n       And, when I think thereon, almost I long to go!\u2019\n\n\nNote 62, page 177.\n\nThat is an unworthy opponent, who assails what assumes to be\nimportant truth, by no better argument than ridicule and sarcasm.\nThat is a despicable one, unworthy of exciting any feelings but\nthose of pity and contempt, who attempts to bring to bear upon\nit the blind and fierce prejudices of the multitude. This last\nis the prevalent mode of modern attack. By those, who deem that\nwisdom will die with them, and that they can learn nothing more,\nwho dogmatize without examining, and measure the views of others\nby their own preconceived and settled opinions, all the foregoing\ndoctrines, which militate with the established prejudices and\nhabits of the age, will be denounced, I am aware, as heretical,\nimaginary, false.\n\n\u2018He would teach people how to be happy,\u2019 say they with a sneer,\n\u2018as though they were not compelled to pursue happiness by a law\nof their natures.\u2019 My business is not with such opponents, and I\nshould consider their opposition an honor and a distinction.\n\nThe fact will remain true, be it welcomed, be it ridiculed, as it\nmay, that a few, in all time, have found the means of being more\ncomfortable and happy, than others in the same circumstances. They\nhad a method of their own in creating this difference. That method\nmight be so indicated, as to be reduced to general, and settled\nrules. This is the amount of the foregoing doctrines. The object\nhas been to discuss and fix some of those rules. No moralist was\never so stupid, as to expect, that the world would not pursue\nits headlong course, inculcate what he might. Every one, who\nunderstands the analogy of the present to the past, will expect\nthat no form of virtuous effort will be screened from question and\nridicule; and that no purity of purpose will conquer the blind and\nfierce hate of the multitude.\n\nBut there will still be a few quiet, reflecting and philosophic\npeople. What is better, the number will be always increasing. For\nsuch, are these my labors, and those, which I have adopted from\nanother, chiefly designed. Their suffrage is an ample reward. Their\nplaudit is true fame. If they say, \u2018we and those about us may be\nbetter and happier; let us make the effort to become so,\u2019 my object\nis attained.\n\nTo encourage us to shake off the superincumbent load of\nindifference, ridicule, and opposition, and to make efforts to\nextend virtue and happiness, it is a sublime reflection, that\na thought may outlive an empire. Babylon and Thebes are, now,\nnowhere to be found; but the moral lessons of the cotemporary wise\nand good, despised and disregarded, perhaps, in their day, have\ndescended to us and are to be found everywhere. As the seminal\nprinciples of plants, borne through the wide spaces of the air by\ntheir downy wings, find at length a congenial spot, in which to\nsettle down, and vegetate, these seeds of virtue and happiness,\nfloating down the current of time, are still arrested, from age to\nage, by some kindred mind, in which they germinate, and produce\ntheir golden fruit. No intellect can conjecture, in how many\ninstances, and to what degree, every fit moral precept may have\ncome between the reason and passions of some one, balancing between\nthe course of happiness and ruin, and may have inclined the scale\nin his favor. The consciousness of even an effort to achieve one\nsuch triumph is a sufficient satisfaction to a virtuous mind.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[A] E.g. Robert Owen and others of the atheistical school.\n\n[B] These _Notes_ will be found at the end of the volume. The small\nnumerals, in the text, refer to them.\n\n[C] Leonidas.\n\n[D] Themistocles.\n\n[E] Pelopidas and Epaminondas.\n\n[F] Marcus Junius Brutus.\n\n[G] Regulus.\n\n[H] Tacit. Vit. Agricol\u00e6, _ad fin._\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s note:\n\n  The ERRATA (page vi) directs that the anchors for Notes [5] [29]\n  [32] and [51] be deleted, since actual Notes for these references\n  do not exist. However Note [51] does exist, it is Note [49] that\n  is missing. Therefore, anchors for [5] [29] [32] and [49] have\n  been deleted in this etext.  The ERRATA change for page 200,\n  (replace \u201cNote 5, page 44.\u201d with \u201cNote 6, page 45.\u201d) has also\n  been made.\n\n  In addition to these four missing references, several anchors\n  had the same number, but referenced two separate Notes. For clarity\n  the duplicate anchor number has been amended with an \u2018a\u2019 suffix.\n  The etext now has [15] and [15a]; [21] and [21a]; [24] and [24a];\n  [27] and [27a]; [28] and [28a]; and [39] and [39a].\n\n  There was a single anchor [53], but two separate Notes for this\n  one anchor. A second anchor [53a] has been added on page 152, and\n  the second Note heading \u201cNote 53, page 150.\u201d has been changed to\n  \u201cNote 53a, page 152.\u201d\n\n  Obvious punctuation errors have been corrected after careful\n  comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation\n  of external sources.\n\n  There are numerous typographical errors in the original text which\n  have been corrected in the etext. These are noted below.\n\n  Except for those specific changes also noted below, all misspellings\n  in the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.\n\n\n  =Typographical errors=\n  Page 20: =digust= changed into =disgust=\n  Page 20: =nto= changed into =into=\n  Page 23: =consisten twith= changed into =consistent with=\n  Page 50: =commencment= changed into =commencement=\n  Page 56: =associa ion= changed into =association=\n  Page 56: =feeleness= changed into =feebleness=\n  Page 61: =badethem= changed into =bade them=\n  Page 96: =amy= changed into =may=\n  Page 99: =pu= changed into =put=\n  Page 101: =whe= changed into =when=\n  Page 101: =exac= changed into =exact=\n  Page 156: =Themore= changed into =The more=\n  Page 158: =orms= changed into =forms=\n  Page 161: =concsious= changed into =conscious=\n  Page 172: =done upon upon earth= changed into =done upon earth=\n  Page 174: =call us= changed into =calls us=\n  Page 197: =corse= changed into =corpse=\n  Page 198: =al= changed into =all=\n  Page 208: =paticular= changed into =particular=\n  Page 211: =controling= changed into =controlling=\n  Page 219: =Hohenloe= changed into =Hohenlohe=\n  Page 225: =resolved= changed into =resolve=\n  Page 231: =e lfish= changed into =selfish=\n  Page 241: =contemptiole= changed into =contemptible=\n  Page 250: =permament= changed into =permanent=\n  Page 253: =there= changed into =their=\n  Page 255: =aquainted= changed into =acquainted=\n  Page 256: =Home, sickness= changed into =Homesickness=\n  Page 263: =Serviu= changed into =Servius=\n  Page 264: =kind cf heart,= changed into =kind of heart=\n  Page 267: =and and moral creation= changed into =and moral creation=\n  Page 273: =some times= changed into =sometimes=\n  Page 274: =conspicious= changed into =conspicuous=\n  Page 296: =corse= changed into =corpse=\n  Page 296: =corses= changed into =corpses=\n  Page 305: =weekly= changed into =weakly=\n\n\n  =Other changes=\n  Page viii: =l\u2019Art d\u2019Etre Heureuse= changed into =l\u2019Art d\u2019Etre Heureux=\n  Page 6: =wholly unnecessary= changed into =wholly necessary=\n  Page 176: =L\u2019ART D\u2019ETRE HEUREUSE= changed into =L\u2019ART D\u2019ETRE HEUREUX=\n  Page 185: =conscientious instructer= changed into =conscientious\n             instructor=\n  Page 193: =l\u2019 art d\u2019 \u00e9tre heureuse= changed into =l\u2019 art d\u2019 \u00e9tre\n             heureux=\n  Page 199: =different instructers= changed into =different instructors=\n  Page 213: =Bastile after= changed into =Bastille after=\n  Page 220: =Why drew Marseilles\u2019s= changed into =Why drew Marseilles\u2019=\n  Page 240: =eclaircissemens= changed into =\u00e9claircissements=\n  Page 307: =A single asservation= changed into =A single assertation=","title":"The Art of Being Happy: In a Series of Letters from a Father to His Children: with Observations and Comments","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":96414}