From the impassioned feelings of the mother, to him who stands joyless
on the verge of apathy, the tide of affection flows in a long and
devious course. Clear, full and vehement, it descends into the vale of
life, where, after a short time, becoming tranquil and serene, it
separates into many branches; and these, again dividing, wander in a
thousand streams, dispensing, as they move along, the sweets of health
and happiness. That no felicity exists independent of a susceptibility
for these emotions is a certain fact; for to the heart of him who hath
been cold to filial or fraternal duty, the soothing charm of friendship
and of love will ever be unknown. It is therefore evident, that to be
happy, man must invariably consult the well being of others; to his
fellow-creatures he must attribute the bliss which he enjoys; it is a
reward proportional to the exertion of his philanthropy. Abstract the
man of virtue and benevolence from society, and you cut off the prime
source of his happiness; he has no proper object on which to place his
affection, or exercise his humanity; the sudden rapture of the grateful
heart, the tender tones of friendship, and the melting sweetness of
expressive love, no longer thrill upon his ear, or swell his softened
soul; all is an aching void, a cheerless and almost unproductive waste:
yet even in this situation, barren as it is, where none are found to
pour the balm of pity, or listen to the plaint of sorrow, even here some
enjoyment is derived from letting loose our affections upon inanimate
nature. “Where in a desert (says Sterne) I could not do better, I would
fasten them on some sweet myrtle, or seek some melancholy cypress to
connect myself to. I would court their shade, and greet them kindly for
their protection. I would cut my name upon them, and swear they were the
loveliest trees throughout the desert. If their leaves withered, I would
teach myself to mourn, and when they rejoiced, I would rejoice with
them.”
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