No. 163 Thursday, Sept. 6, 1711 Addison

'... Si quid ego adjuero, curamve levasso,

Quæ nunc te coquit, et versat sub pectore fixa,

Ecquid erit pretii?'

Enn. ap. Tullium.

Enquiries after Happiness, and Rules for attaining it, are not so

necessary and useful to Mankind as the Arts of Consolation, and

supporting [ones [1]] self under Affliction. The utmost we can hope for

in this World is Contentment; if we aim at any thing higher, we shall

meet with nothing but Grief and Disappointments. A Man should direct all

his Studies and Endeavours at making himself easie now, and happy

hereafter.

The Truth of it is, if all the Happiness that is dispersed through the

whole Race of Mankind in this World were drawn together, and put into

the Possession of any single Man, it would not make a very happy Being.

Though on the contrary, if the Miseries of the whole Species were fixed

in a single Person, they would make a very miserable one.

I am engaged in this Subject by the following Letter, which, though

subscribed by a fictitious Name, I have reason to believe is not

Imaginary.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR, [2]

'I am one of your Disciples, and endeavour to live up to your Rules,

which I hope will incline you to pity my Condition: I shall open it to

you in a very few Words. About three Years since a Gentleman, whom, I

am sure, you yourself would have approved, made his Addresses to me.

He had every thing to recommend him but an Estate, so that my Friends,

who all of them applauded his Person, would not for the sake of both

of us favour his Passion. For my own part, I resigned my self up

entirely to the Direction of those who knew the World much better than

my self, but still lived in hopes that some Juncture or other would

make me happy in the Man, whom, in my Heart, I preferred to all the

World; being determined if I could not have him, to have no Body else.

About three Months ago I received a Letter from him, acquainting me,

that by the Death of an Uncle he had a considerable Estate left him,

which he said was welcome to him upon no other Account, but as he

hoped it would remove all Difficulties that lay in the Way to our

mutual Happiness. You may well suppose, Sir, with how much Joy I

received this Letter, which was followed by several others filled with

those Expressions of Love and Joy, which I verily believe no Body felt

more sincerely, nor knew better how to describe than the Gentleman I

am speaking of. But Sir, how shall I be able to tell it you! by the

last Week's Post I received a letter from an intimate Friend of this

unhappy Gentleman, acquainting me, that as he had just settled his

Affairs, and was preparing for his Journey, he fell sick of a Fever

and died. It is impossible to express to you the Distress I am in upon

this Occasion. I can only have Recourse to my Devotions; and to the

reading of good Books for my Consolation; and as I always take a

particular Delight in those frequent Advices and Admonitions which you

give to the Publick, it would be a very great piece of Charity in you

to lend me your Assistance in this Conjuncture. If after the reading

of this Letter you find your self in a Humour, rather to Rally and

Ridicule, than to Comfort me, I desire you would throw it into the

Fire, and think no more of it; but if you are touched with my

Misfortune, which is greater than I know how to bear, your Counsels

may very much Support, and will infinitely Oblige the afflicted

_LEONORA_.'

A Disappointment in Love is more hard to get over than any other; the

Passion itself so softens and subdues the Heart, that it disables it

from struggling or bearing up against the Woes and Distresses which

befal it. The Mind meets with other Misfortunes in her whole Strength;

she stands collected within her self, and sustains the Shock with all

the Force [which [3]] is natural to her; but a Heart in Love has its

Foundations sapped, and immediately sinks under the Weight of Accidents

that are disagreeable to its Favourite Passion.

In Afflictions Men generally draw their Consolations out of Books of

Morality, which indeed are of great use to fortifie and strengthen the

Mind against the Impressions of Sorrow. Monsieur St. _Evremont_, who

does not approve of this Method, recommends Authors [who [4]] are apt to

stir up Mirth in the Mind of the Readers, and fancies _Don Quixote_ can

give more Relief to an heavy Heart than _Plutarch_ or _Seneca_, as it is

much easier to divert Grief than to conquer it. This doubtless may have

its Effects on some Tempers. I should rather have recourse to Authors of

a quite contrary kind, that give us Instances of Calamities and

Misfortunes, and shew Human Nature in its greatest Distresses.

If the Affliction we groan under be very heavy, we shall find some

Consolation in the Society of as great Sufferers as our selves,

especially when we find our Companions Men of Virtue and Merit. If our

Afflictions are light, we shall be comforted by the Comparison we make

between our selves and our Fellow Sufferers. A Loss at Sea, a Fit of

Sickness, or the Death of a Friend, are such Trifles when we consider

whole Kingdoms laid in Ashes, Families put to the Sword, Wretches shut

up in Dungeons, and the like Calamities of Mankind, that we are out of

Countenance for our own Weakness, if we sink under such little Stroaks

of Fortune.

Let the Disconsolate _Leonora_ consider, that at the very time in which

she languishes for the Loss of her deceased Lover, there are Persons in

several Parts of the World just perishing in a Shipwreck; others crying

out for Mercy in the Terrors of a Death-bed Repentance; others lying

under the Tortures of an Infamous Execution, or the like dreadful

Calamities; and she will find her Sorrows vanish at the Appearance of

those which are so much greater and more astonishing.

I would further propose to the Consideration of my afflicted Disciple,

that possibly what she now looks upon as the greatest Misfortune, is not

really such in it self. For my own part, I question not but our Souls in

a separate State will look back on their Lives in quite another View,

than what they had of them in the Body; and that what they now consider

as Misfortunes and Disappointments, will very often appear to have been

Escapes and Blessings.

The Mind that hath any Cast towards Devotion, naturally flies to it in

its Afflictions.

Whon I was in _France_ I heard a very remarkable Story of two Lovers,

which I shall relate at length in my to-Morrow's Paper, not only because

the Circumstances of it are extraordinary, but because it may serve as

an Illustration to all that can be said on this last Head, and shew the

Power of Religion in abating that particular Anguish which seems to lie

so heavy on _Leonora_. The Story was told me by a Priest, as I travelled

with him in a Stage-Coach. I shall give it my Reader as well as I can

remember, in his own Words, after having premised, that if Consolations

may be drawn from a wrong Religion and a misguided Devotion, they cannot

but flow much more naturally from those which are founded upon Reason,

and established in good Sense.

The Spectator, Volume 1 Eighteenth-Century Periodical Essays · 第 295 / 351 题