“AH, friend K----, good-morning to you; I'm really happy to see you
looking so cheerful. Pray, to what unusual circumstance may we be
indebted for this happy, smiling face of yours, this morning?” (Our
friend K----had been, unfortunately, of a very desponding and somewhat
of a choleric turn of mind, previously.)
“Really, is the change so perceptible, then? Well, my dear sir, you
shall have the secret; for, happy as I appear--and be assured, my
appearances are by no means deceptive, for I never felt more happy in my
life--it will still give me pleasure to inform you, and won't take long,
either. It is simply this; I have made a whole family happy!”
“Indeed! Why, you have discovered a truly valuable: recipe for blues,
then, which may be used _ad libitum_, eh, K----?”
“You may well say that. But, really, my friend, I feel no little
mortification at not making so simple and valuable a discovery at an
earlier period of my life, Heaven knows,” continued K----, “I have
looked for contentment everywhere else. First, I sought for wealthy in
the gold mines of California, thinking that was the true source of
all earthly joys; but after obtaining it, I found myself with such a
multiplicity of cares and anxieties, that I was really more unhappy than
ever. I then sought for pleasure in travelling. This answered somewhat
the purpose of dissipating cares, &c., so long as it lasted; but, dear
me, it gave no permanent satisfaction. After seeing the whole world, I
was as badly off as Alexander the Great. He cried for another world to
_conquer_, and I cried for another world to _see_.”
The case of our friend, I imagine, differs not materially from that of
a host of other seekers of contentment in this productive world. Like
“blind leaders of the blind,” our invariable fate is to go astray in the
universal race for happiness. How common is it, after seeking for it
in every place but the right one, for the selfish man to lay the whole
blame upon this fine world--as if anybody was to blame but himself. Even
some professors of religion are too apt to libel the world. “Well, this
is a troublesome world, to make the best of it,” is not an uncommon
expression; neither is it a truthful one. “Troubles, disappointments,
losses, crosses, sickness, and death, make up the sum and substance of
our existence here,” add they, with tremendous emphasis, as if they had
no hand in producing the sad catalogue. The trouble is, we set too
high a value on our own merits; we imagine ourselves deserving of great
favours and privileges, while we are doing nothing to merit them. In
this respect, we are not altogether unlike the young man in the parable,
who, by-the-by, was also a professor--he professed very loudly of having
done all those good things “from his youth up.” But when the command
came, “go sell all thou hast, and give to the poor,” &c., it soon took
the conceit out of him.
In this connexion, there are two or three seemingly important
considerations, which I feel some delicacy in touching upon here.
However, in the kindest possible spirit, I would merely remark, that
there is a very large amount of wealth in the Church--by this I include
its wealthy members, of course; and refer to no particular denomination;
by Church, I mean all Christian denominations. Now, in connexion with
this fact, such a question as this arises in my mind--and I put it, not,
for the purpose of fault-finding, for I don't know that I have a right
view of the matter, but merely for the consideration of those who are
fond of hoarding up their earthly gains, viz.: Suppose the modern Church
was composed of such professors as the self-denying disciples of our
Saviour,--with their piety, simplicity, and this wealth; what, think
you, would be the consequence? Now I do not intend to throw out any
such flings as, “comparisons are odious”--“this is the modern Christian
age”--“the age of Christian privileges,” and all that sort of nonsense.
Still, I am rather inclined to the opinion, that if we were all--in
and out of the Church--disposed to live up to, or carry out what we
professedly know to be right, it would be almost as difficult to find
real trouble, as it is now to find real happiness.
The sources of contentment and discontentment are discoverable,
therefore, without going into a metaphysical examination of the subject.
Just in proportion as we happen to discharge, or neglect known duties,
are we, according to my view, happy or miserable on earth. Philosophy
tells us that our happiness and well-being depends upon a conformity to
certain unalterable laws--moral, physical, and organic--which act upon
the intellectual, moral, and material universe, of which man is a part,
and which determine, or regulate the growth, happiness, and well-being
of all organic beings. These views, when reduced to their simple
meaning, amount to the same thing, call it by what name we will. Duties,
of course, imply legal or moral obligations, which we are certainly
legally or morally bound to pay, perform, or discharge. And certain it
is, there is no getting over them--they are as irresistible as
Divine power, as universal as Divine presence, as permanent as Divine
existence, and no art nor cunning of man can disconnect unhappiness from
transgressing them. How necessary to our happiness, then, is it, not
only to know, but to perform our whole duty?
One of the great duties of man in this life, and, perhaps, the most
neglected, is that of doing good, or benefiting one another. That doing
good is clearly a duty devolving upon man, there can be no question. The
benevolent Creator, in placing man in the world, endowed him with mental
and physical energies, which clearly denote that he is to be active in
his day and generation.
Active in what? Certainly not in mischief, for that would not be
consistent with Divine goodness. Neither should we suppose that we are
here for our own sakes simply. Such an idea would be presumptuous. For
what purpose, then, was man endowed with all these facilities of mind
and body, but to do good and glorify his Maker? True philosophy teaches
that benevolence was not only the design of the Creator in all His
works, but the fruits to be expected from them. The whole infinite
contrivances of everything above, around, and within us, are directed
to certain benevolent issues, and all the laws of nature are in perfect
harmony with this idea.
That such is the design of man may also be inferred from the happiness
which attends every good action, and the misery of discontentment which
attends those who not only do wrong, but are useless to themselves and
to society. Friend K----'s case, above quoted, is a fair illustration of
this truth.
Now, then, if it is our duty to do all the good we can, and I think this
will be admitted, particularly by the Christian, and this be measured
by our means and opportunity, then there are many whom Providence has
blessed with the means and opportunity of doing a very great amount of
good. And if it be true, as it manifestly is, that “it is more blessed
to give than receive,” then has Providence also blessed them with very
great privileges. The privilege of giving liberally, and thus obtaining
for themselves the greater blessing, which is the result of every
benevolent action, the simple satisfaction with ourselves which follows
a good act, or consciousness of having done our duty in relieving
a fellow-creature, are blessings indeed, which none but the good or
benevolent can realize. Such kind spirits are never cast down. Their
hearts always light and cheerful--rendered so by their many kind
offices,--they can always enjoy their neighbours, rich or poor, high or
low, and love them too; and with a flow of spirits which bespeak a heart
all right within, they make all glad and happy around them.
Doing good is an infallible antidote for melancholy. When the heart
seems heavy, and our minds can light upon nothing but little naughty
perplexities, everything going wrong, no bright spot or relief anywhere
for our crazy thoughts, and we are finally wound up in a web of
melancholy, depend upon it there is nothing, nothing which can dispel
this angry, ponderous, and unnatural cloud from our _rheumatic minds_
and _consciences_ like a charity visit--to give liberally to those in
need of succour, the poor widow, the suffering, sick, and poor, the
aged invalid, the lame, the blind, &c., &c.; all have a claim upon your
bounty, and how they will bless you and love you for it--anyhow, they
will thank kind Providence for your mission of love. He that makes one
such visit will make another and another; he can't very well get weary
in such well-doing, for his is the greater blessing. It is a blessing
indeed: how the heart is lightened, the soul enlarged, the mind
improved, and even health; for the mind being liberated from
perplexities, the body is at rest, the nerves in repose, and the blood,
equalized, courses freely through the system, giving strength, vigour,
and equilibrium to the whole complicated machinery. Thus we can think
clearer, love better, enjoy life, and be thankful for it.
What a beautiful arrangement it is that we can, by doing good to others,
do so much good to ourselves! The wealthy classes, who “rise above
society like clouds above the earth, to diffuse an abundant dew,” should
not forget this fact. The season has now about arrived, when the good
people of all classes will be most busily engaged in these delightful
duties. The experiment is certainly worth trying by all. If all
those desponding individuals, whose chief comfort is to growl at this
“troublesome world,” will but take the hint, look trouble full in the
face, and relieve it, they will, like friend K----, feel much better.
It may be set down as a generally correct axiom, (with some few
exceptions, perhaps, such as accidents, and the deceptions and cruelties
of those whom we injudiciously select for friends and confidants, from
our want of discernment), that life is much what we make it, and so is
the world.