E-text prepared by John Campbell and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/artofbeinghappy00droz
Transcriber’s note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
There are about seventy Notes at the back of the book. These
are referenced in the text by a numeric anchor eg [1] or [15];
some anchors have an ‘a’ suffix eg [15a] or [21a].
There are two Footnotes in the main text, whose anchors are
[A] and [B]. There are six Footnotes in the Notes section,
whose anchors are [C] to [H]. All eight Footnotes have been
placed at the back of the book after the Notes section.
Numerous minor text changes are noted in the Transcriber’s Note
at the end of the book.
THE ART OF BEING HAPPY:
From the French of DROZ,
‘SUR L’ART D’ETRE HEUREUX;’
In a Series of Letters
from
a Father to His Children:
with
Observations and Comments.
by
TIMOTHY FLINT.
‘----sua si bonna nôrint.’--VIRGIL.
Boston,
Published By Carter And Hendee.
1832.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832,
BY CARTER AND HENDEE,
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
ADVERTISEMENT.
The text, upon which the following observations and comments
are based, does not assume to be a literal translation of the
celebrated work of Droz. The original is strongly idiomatic;
and the author has carried an uncommon talent of being laconic
sometimes to the point of obscurity. I have often found it
impossible to convey to the English reader a sentiment, perfectly
obvious in the original, in as few words as are there used. The
French, in its more numerous articles, more allowable and bold
personifications, and arbitrary use of gender, has, in the hand
of certain writers, this advantage over our language. When the
doctrines of the book are compared one with the other, and each
with the general bearing of the work, the inculcation, namely, of
the truth that _virtue is happiness_, there will be found nothing
immoral or reprehensible in it. The author, on the whole, leans to
the Epicurean philosophy. Unfavorable, though erroneous impressions
have been very generally entertained of that philosophy. In
deference to that opinion, I have altogether omitted the few
sentences, which seemed appropriate to some of the dogmas of the
Epicureans. Nothing can be more remote from their alleged impiety,
than the general tenor of this work. One of its most eloquent and
impressive chapters is that upon religion. There is a distinct
class in France, both numerous and important, the _literatures_.
Many of the remarks of the author, bearing chiefly upon that class,
seemed inapplicable, or unintelligible in our country, where there
is no such class to address. I have passed over many passages and
parts of chapters, which had an almost exclusive reference to
persons in that walk in life. I have added members of sentences,
and even whole sentences to the text, where such additions seemed
necessary to develope the doctrine to an English reader.
In a word, I do not offer the text, as an exact translation, but
as the only treatise within the compass of my reading, which has
discussed the pursuit of happiness, as a science or an art; and
as one which has advanced more eloquent and impressive sentiments
upon the subject, than I have elsewhere met. With the slight
alterations, which I have made, I have found this book to meet
my own thoughts; and I have laid out of the text all phrases and
passages, which spoke otherwise. I have availed myself of the words
of another, because they have expressed my own views better than
I could have hoped to express them myself. This explanation will
be my reply to all remarks, touching mistranslation, or liberties
taken with the author.
ERRATA.
Page 44, last line, dele the 5.
Page 111, 5th line from bottom, dele 29.
Page 121, end of second paragraph, dele 32.
Page 149, 2d line from top, dele 51.
Page 200, for Note 5, page 44, read 6, page 45.
CONTENTS.
Page.
LETTER I.
Introduction, 1
LETTER II.
The Physical, Organic and Moral Laws, 8
LETTER III.
The same subject continued, 25
LETTER IV.
General Views of the subject, 39
LETTER V.
Our Desires, 45
LETTER VI.
Tranquillity of Mind, 51
LETTER VII.
Of Misfortune, 58
LETTER VIII.
Of Independence, 67
LETTER IX.
Of Health, 73
LETTER X.
Of Competence, 83
LETTER XI.
Of Opinion, and the Affection of Men, 90
LETTER XII.
Of the Sentiment Men ought to Inspire, 95
LETTER XIII.
Of some of the Virtues, 100
LETTER XIV.
Of Marriage, 108
LETTER XV.
Of Children, 117
LETTER XVI.
Of Friendship, 124
LETTER XVII.
The Pleasures of the Senses, 129
LETTER XVIII.
The Pleasures of the Heart, 134
LETTER XIX.
The Pleasures of the Understanding, 139
LETTER XX.
The Pleasures of the Imagination, 144
LETTER XXI.
Melancholy, 148
LETTER XXII.
Religious Sentiments, 154
LETTER XXIII.
Of the Rapidity of Life, 163
LETTER XXIV.
On Death, 170
LETTER XXV.
Conclusion of Droz ‘_Sur l’Art d’Etre Heureux_,’ 176
LETTER XXVI.
The Choice of a Profession, 182
NOTES, 193-313
THE ART OF BEING HAPPY.
LETTER I.
The following thoughts, my dear children, are those of an
affectionate father going out of life, to those he most loves, who
are coming forward in it. I am perfectly aware, that nothing but
time can impart all the dear bought instruction of experience.
Upon innumerable questions, that relate to life, you will receive
efficient teaching only by reaping the fruit of your own errors.
But one who has preceded you on the journey, who has listened to
the impressive oracles of years, may impart some aid if you will
listen with docility, to enable you to anticipate the lessons of
experimental acquaintance with the world. In what I am about to
write, I trust I may bring you this aid. As you embark on the
uncertain voyage, I cannot but hope, that your filial piety will
incline you to a frequent recurrence to the parental chart. You
are aware, that circumstances have brought me into contact with
all conditions, and into a view of all the aspects of life. I
ought, therefore, to be qualified to impart useful lessons upon the
evils and dangers of inexperience. You, at least, will not see
assumption in such lessons, when they result from the remembrance
of my own errors. You may consider what follows, whether it be my
own remarks, or what I have adopted from others, as the gleanings
of experimental instruction, from what I have myself seen, felt,
suffered, or enjoyed; and as my comments upon the influence, which
my election of alternatives has had, upon the amount of my own
enjoyment or suffering.
You will find enough who are ready to inspire you with indifference
or disdain for such counsels. They will indolently, and yet
confidently, assure you, that the theoretical discussion of the
pursuit of happiness is, of all visionary investigations, the most
profitless and inapplicable; that lecture, write, preach as we
may, the future will be, perhaps ought to be, as the past; that
the world is always growing older, without ever growing wiser; and
that men are evidently no more successful in their search after
happiness now, than in the remotest periods of recorded history.
They will affirm that man has always been the sport of accident,
the slave of his passions, the creature of circumstances; that it
is useless to reason, vain to consult rules, imbecile to surrender
independence, to follow the guidance of those who assume to be
wise, or receive instruction from those who have been taught
by years. They will allege the utter inefficacy of the lights
of reason, philosophy, and religion, judging from the little
illumination, which they have hitherto shed upon the paths of
life. On the same ground, and from the same reasonings, they might
declaim against every attempt, in every form to render the world
wiser and happier. With equal propriety they might say, ‘close the
pulpit, silence the press, cease from parental discipline, moral
suasion, and the training of education. Do what you will, the world
will go on as before.’ Who does not see the absurdity of such
language? Because we cannot do everything, shall we do nothing?
Because the million float towards the invisible future without any
pole star, or guided only by the presumption of general opinion,
is it proof conclusive that none have been rendered happier
in consequence of having followed wiser guidance, and pursued
happiness by system?
Such is the practical creed of the great mass, with whom you will
be associated in life. I, on the contrary, think entirely with the
French philosopher, whose precepts you are about to read, that this
general persuasion is palpably false and fatal; that much suffering
may be avoided, and much enjoyment obtained by following rules,
and pursuing happiness by system; that I have had the fortune to
meet with numbers, who were visible proofs that men may learn
how to be happy. I am confident that the far greater portion of
human suffering is of our own procuring, the result of ignorance
and mistaken views, and that it is a superfluous and unnecessary
mixture of bitterness in the cup of human life. I firmly believe
that the greater number of deaths, instead of being the result of
specific diseases, to which they are attributed, are really caused
by a series of imperceptible malign influences, springing from
corroding cares, griefs, and disappointments. To say, that more
than half of the human race die of sorrow, and a broken heart, or
in some way fall victims to their passions, may seem like advancing
a revolting doctrine; but it is, nevertheless, in my mind, a simple
truth.
We do not _see_ the operations of grief upon some one or all the
countless frail and delicate constituents of human life. But if
physiology could look through the infinitely complicated web of
our structure with the power of the solar microscope, it would
behold every chagrin searing some nerve, paralyzing the action of
some organ, or closing some capillary; and that every sigh draws
its drop of life blood from the heart. Nature is slow in resenting
her injuries; but the memory of them is indelibly impressed, and
treasured up for a late, but certain revenge. Nervousness, lowness
of spirits, headache, and all the countless train of morbid and
deranged corporeal and mental action, are, at once, the cause and
the effect of sorrow and anxiety, increased by a constant series
of action and reaction. Thought and care become impressed upon
the brow. The bland essence of cheerfulness evaporates. The head
becomes shorn of its locks; and the frosts of winter gather on
the temples. These concurrent influences silently sap the stamina
of life; until, aided by some adventitious circumstance, which we
call cold, fever, epidemic, dyspepsia--death lays his hand upon the
frame that by the sorrows and cares of life was prepared for his
dread office. The bills of mortality assign a name to the mortal
disease different from the true one.
Cheerfulness and equanimity are about the only traits that have
invariably marked the life of those who have lived to extreme old
age. Nothing is more clearly settled by experience, than that
grief acts as a slow poison, not only in the immediate infliction
of pain, but in gradually impairing the powers of life, and in
subtracting from the sum of our days.
If, then, by any process of instruction, discipline and mental
force, we can influence our circumstances, banish grief and create
cheerfulness, we can, in the same degree, reduce rules, for the
pursuit of happiness, to a system; and make that system a matter
of science. Can we not do this? The very million who deride the
idea of seeking for enjoyment through the medium of instruction,
unconsciously exercise the power in question to a certain
extent--though not to the extent, of which they are capable. All
those wise individuals, who have travelled with equanimity and
cheerfulness through the diversified scenes of life, making the
most of its good, and the least of its evils, bear a general
testimony to the truth of this fact. We find in them a conviction
that they had such power, and a force of character that enabled
them to act according to their convictions.
No person deserves the name of a philosopher, who is not wise in
relation to the great purpose of life. In the same proportion,
then, as I convince you, that by our own voluntary, physical and
mental discipline, we can act upon circumstances, and influence our
temperament, and thus bear directly upon our happiness, I shall
be able to stir up your powers, and call forth your energy of
character, to apply that discipline in your own case. In the same
proportion I shall be instrumental in training you to the highest
exercise of your reason, and the attainment of true philosophy.
The elements upon which you are to operate, are your circumstances,
habits, and modes of thinking and acting. The _philosopher of
circumstances_[A] denies that you can act upon these. But, by his
unwearied efforts to propagate his system, he proves, that he does
not himself act upon his avowed convictions. The impulse of all
our actions from birth to death, the spring of all our movements
is a conviction, that we can alter and improve our condition. We
have a consciousness stronger than our reason, that we can control
our circumstances. We can change our regimen and habits; and by
patience and perseverance, even our temperament. Every one can cite
innumerable and most melancholy instances of those who have done it
for evil. The habit of indulging in opium, tobacco, ardent spirits,
or any of the pernicious narcotics, soon reduces the physical and
mental constitution to that temperament, in which these stimulants
are felt to be necessary. A corresponding change is produced in the
mind and disposition. The frequent and regular use of medicine,
though it may have been wholly necessary at first, finally becomes
an inveterate habit. No phenomenon of physiology is more striking,
than the facility with which the human constitution immediately
commences a conformity to whatsoever change of circumstances, as
of climate, habit, or aliment, we impose upon it. It is a most
impressive proof, that the Creator has formed man capable of
becoming the creature of all climates and conditions.
If we may change our temperament both of body and mind for evil,
as innumerable examples prove that we may, why not as easily for
good? Our habits certainly are under our control; and our modes
of thinking, however little the process may have been explained,
are, in some way, shaped by our voluntary discipline. We have high
powers of self-command, as every one who has made the effort to
exercise them, must be conscious. We have inexhaustible moral force
for self-direction, if we will only recognise and exert it. We owe
most of our disgusts and disappointments, our corroding passions
and unreasonable desires, our fretfulness, gloom and self-torment,
neither to nature nor fate; but to ourselves, and our reckless
indifference to those rules, that ought to guide our pursuit of
happiness. Let a higher education and a truer wisdom disenthral
us from our passions, and dispel the mists of opinion and silence
the authority of example. Let us commence the pursuit of happiness
on the right course, and seek it where alone it is to be found.
Equanimity and moderation will shed their mild radiance upon our
enjoyments; and in our reverses we shall summon resignation and
force of character; and, according to the sublime ancient maxim, we
shall become masters of events and of ourselves.
I am sensible that there will always be a sufficient number of
those, deemed philosophers, who, notwithstanding their rules, have
wandered far from their aim. Such there will always be, so long as
there are stirring passions within or hidden dangers around us; and
there will be shipwrecks, so long as human cupidity and ambition
tempt self-confident and unskilful mariners upon the fickle and
tumultuous bosom of the ocean. But is this proof that a disciplined
pilot would not be most likely to make the voyage in safety, or
that the study of navigation is useless?
My affectionate desire is, to draw your attention to those moral
resources which your Creator has placed at your command. How many
millions have floated down the current in the indolent supineness
of inactivity, who, had they been aware of their internal means
of active resistance, would have risen above the pressure of
their circumstances! Who can deny, that there is a manifest
difference, even as things now are, between the moral courage of
action and endurance, put forth by a disciplined and reflecting
mind, possessing force of character, and the stupid and passive
abandonment, with which a savage meets pain and death?
May you speed on your voyage under the influence of the _lucida
sidera_, or, in higher phrase, may Providence be your guide.
LETTER II.
THE PHYSICAL, ORGANIC AND MORAL LAWS.
In relation to this most important subject, read _Combe on the
Constitution of Man_, a book, which I consider admirable for its
broad, philosophic, and just views of the laws of the universe,
in their bearing upon the constitution of our physical and moral
nature. You are not unaware, that I had presented you similar
views, and inculcated the same master principles, long before
this excellent work was published. Thousands, in all ages, have
entertained the same extended conceptions of the divine plan,
and its bearing upon man and all beings, upon this and all other
worlds. But the honor belongs to this author, to have given form
and systematic arrangement to these views. I have given my
thoughts upon this subject at the commencement of my letters, and
have subjoined remarks upon the Christian religion at the close,
because I deem that M. Droz, in not recurring to these fundamental
principles at the beginning of his work, and in dwelling with so
little earnestness upon the hope of the gospel, as an element of
happiness, at the close, has left chasms in it which ought to be
supplied.
The sect, numerous in my day, in yours, I trust, will have
disappeared, who hold that religion and philosophy are militant and
irreconcilable principles. Such persons are accustomed to brand
these broad views of Providence and moral obligation with the odium
of impiety. You will hardly need my assurance, that, if I thought
with them, _my right hand should forget its cunning_, before I
would allow anything to escape my pen which might have the least
tendency to impair in your minds the future and eternal sanctions
of virtue. I shall hereafter enlarge upon my persuasion, that, so
far from being in opposition, religion and philosophy, when rightly
understood, will be found resting on the same immutable foundation.
It is because the misguided friends of religion have attempted to
sustain them, as separate and hostile interests, in my view, that
the former has made so little progress towards becoming universal.
It will one day be understood, that whatever wars with reason
and common sense, is equally hostile to religion. The simple and
unchangeable truths of Christianity will be found to violate none
of our most obvious convictions. Truth will reassume her legitimate
reign. Piety, religion and morals, our best interests for this
life, and our surest preparations for a future one, will be found
exactly conformable to the eternal order of things, and the system
of the gospel will become universal, according to its legitimate
claims. True piety, in my mind, is equally our duty, our wisdom and
happiness. To behold God everywhere in his works, to hold communion
with him in a contemplative and admiring spirit, to love, and trust
him, to find, in the deep and constantly present persuasion of
his being and attributes, a sentiment of exhaustless cheerfulness
and excitement to duty, I hold to be the source of the purest and
sublimest pleasure, that earth can afford.
True philosophy unfolds the design of final causes with a calm
and humble wisdom. It finds the Creator everywhere, and always
acting in wisdom and power. It traces the highest benevolence of
intention, where the first aspect showed no apparent purpose, or
one that seemed to tend to misery; offering new inducements to
learn the first and last lesson of religion, and the ultimate
attainment of human wisdom--resignation to the will of God. In
vindicating his ways to men, it declares that so long as we do
not understand the laws of our being and so long as we transgress
them, either ignorantly, or wilfully and unconsciously, misery to
ourselves must just as certainly follow as that we can neither
resist nor circumvent them; and that the Omnipotent has forged
every link of the chain, that connects our own unhappiness with
every transgression of the laws of our nature.
We find ourselves making a part of an existing universe which
neither ignorance, nor wisdom, doubting, nor confidence can alter.
If we know the order, of which we are the subjects, and conform
to it, we are happy. If we ignorantly, or wilfully transgress
it, the order is in no degree changed, or impeded. It moves
irresistibly on, and the opposition is crushed. How wisdom and
benevolence are reconcilable with the permission of this ignorance
and opposition, in other words, why partial evil exists in God’s
universe, it is not my object to inquire. The inquiry would not
only be fruitless, but would in no degree alter the fact, that what
we call evil does exist. It is enough for us to know, that, as far
as human research has reached, or can reach, the more profoundly
we investigate the subject, the more clearly are design, wisdom
and benevolence discoverable. Beyond our ken, right reason, guided
by humility, would infer, that, where we cannot trace the impress
of these attributes, it is not because they are not discoverable,
but because our powers are not equal to the discovery. If we had a
broader vision, and were more fully acquainted with the relations
of all parts of God’s universe, the one to the other, and all the
reasons of the permanent ordinances of his government, we should
be able to understand the necessity of partial evil to the general
good; we should understand, why it rains on the waste ocean, when
drought consigns whole countries to aridity and desolation; in a
word, why ignorance, transgression, misery and death have a place
in our system.
All that we now know is, that the natural laws of this system
are universal, invariable, unbending; that physical and moral
tendencies are the same all over our world; and we have every
reason to believe, over all other worlds. Wherever moral beings
keep in harmony with these laws, there is no instance, in which
happiness is not the result. Men never enjoy health, vigor, and
felicity in disobedience to them. The whole infinite contrivance
of everything above, around, and within us, appears directed to
certain benevolent issues; and all the laws of nature are in
perfect harmony with the whole constitution of man.
I shall not enter upon the subtle controversies of moral
philosophers, as to the fundamental principle of moral obligation,
whether it be expediency, the nature of things, or the will of God?
In my view these are rather questions about words, than things. The
nature of things is a part of the will of God; and expediency is
conformity to this unchanging order. An action derives its moral
complexion from being conformed to the will of God, and the nature
of things; and whatever is so conformed, is expedient; consequently
all the different foundations of morals, when examined, are found
to be precisely the same.
My notions of morality are, that it is conformity to the physical,
organic and moral laws of the universe. Some will choose to
call it expediency; others, the will of God; and others still,
the constitution of things. These views, when reduced to their
elements, are the same, call them by what names we may. We may
obviously divide these laws into three classes. The first series we
call physical laws, or those which act upon the material universe,
and upon ourselves as a part of that universe. The second we call
organic, or those which regulate the origin, growth, well-being
and dissolution of organized beings. The last, denominated moral,
act chiefly on the intellectual universe. They are founded on our
relations to the sentient universe and God.
We infer from analogy, that these laws always have been, are, and
always will be, invariably the same; and that they prevail alike
in every portion of God’s universe. We so judge, because we believe
the existing order of things to be the wisest and the best. We
know that the physical laws actually do prevail alike in every
part of our world, and as far beyond it, as the highest helps of
astronomy can aid our researches into the depths of immensity. Is
it not probable, that if we could investigate the system, as far as
the utmost stretch of thought, we should find no point, where the
laws of gravity, light, heat and motion do not prevail; where the
sentient beings are not restricted to the same moral relations, as
in our world? Wherever the empire of science has extended, we note
these laws equally prevalent, in a molecule and a world, and from
the lowest order of sentient beings up to man. The arrangement of
the great whole, it should seem, must be a single emanation from
the same wisdom and will, perfectly uniform throughout the whole
empire. What an impressive motive to study these laws, and conform
to them, is it, to know, that they are as irresistible, as the
divine power, as universal, as the divine presence, as permanent
as the divine existence;--that there is no evading them, that no
art can disconnect misery from transgressing them, that no change
of place or time, that not death, nor any transformation which
our conscious being can undergo, will, during the revolutions of
eternity, dispense any more with the necessity of observing these
laws, than during our present transitory existence in clay!
I need not dwell a moment upon the proofs of the absolute identity
of the physical laws. No one need be told, that a ship floats,
water descends, heat warms, and cold freezes, and that all physical
properties of matter are the same over the globe. We shall only
show by a few palpable examples, that our system is arranged in
conformity to the organic laws. Every discovery in the kingdom of
animated nature developes new instances.
In the tropical regions, the muscular energy is less, in proportion
as the natural fertility of the soil is greater. In colder
latitudes muscular energy is increased; and ruder elements, and a
more sterile nature, proportion their claims accordingly. In arctic
regions no farinaceous food ripens. Sojourners in that climate
find, that bread and vegetable diet do not furnish the requisite
nutriment; that pure animal food is the only sustenance that will
there maintain the tone of the system, imparting a delightful
vigor and buoyancy of mind. Strange as it may seem, to conform to
this necessity, these dreary countries abound in infinite numbers
and varieties of animals, fowls and fishes. The climate favors
the drying and preserving of animal food, which is thus prepared
to sustain the inhabitants, when nature imprisons the material
creation in chains of ice, and wraps herself up in her mantle of
snow. Thus, if we survey the whole globe, the food, climate and
other circumstances will be found accommodated to the inhabitants;
and they, as far as they conform to the organic laws, will be found
adapted to their climate and mode of subsistence.
In all positions man finds himself called upon, by the clear
indications of the organic laws, to take that free and cheerful
exercise, which is calculated to develope vigorous muscular,
nervous and mental action. The laborer digs, and the hunter
chases for subsistence; but finds at the same time health and
cheerfulness. The penalty of the violation of this organic law by
the indulgence of indolence is debility, enfeebled action, both
bodily and mental, dyspepsia with all its horrid train, and finally
death. On the other hand, the penalty of over exertion, debauchery,
intemperance, and excess of every species, comes in other forms
of disease and suffering. These laws, though not so obviously
and palpably so, are as invariable and inevitable, as those of
attraction, or magnetism; and yet the great mass of our species,
even in what we call enlightened and educated countries, do not
recognise, and obey them. It is in vain for them, that, from age
to age, the same consequences have ensued, as the eternal heralds
of the divinity, proclaiming to all people, in all languages,
that his laws carry their sanctions with them. One of our most
imperious duties, then, is to study these laws, to make ourselves
conversant with their bearing upon our pursuit of happiness, that
we may conform to them. When we have become acquainted with their
universality and resistless power, we shall indulge no puerile hope
that we may enjoy the present gratification of infringing them, and
then evade the ultimate consequences. We shall as soon calculate
to change condition with the tenants of the air and the waters, as
expect to divert any one of them from its onward course.
He then is wise, who looks round him with a searching eye to become
fully possessed, without the coloring of sophistical wishes and
self-deceiving expectation, of the actual conditions of his being;
and who, instead of imagining, that the unchangeable courses of
nature will conform to him, his ignorance, interests or passions,
shapes his course so as to conform to them. He will no more expect,
for example, that he can indulge his appetites, give scope to his
passions, and yield himself to the seductions of life, and escape
without a balance of misery in consequence, than he would calculate
to throw himself unhurt, from a mountain precipice.
So far as regards himself, he will study the organic laws, in
reference to their bearing upon his mind, his health, his morals,
his happiness. He will strive to be cheerful; for he knows that it
is a part of the constitution of things, that cheerfulness tends to
physical and mental health. He will accustom himself to exercise,
and will avoid indolence, because he understands that he was formed
to be an active being, and that he cannot yield to his slothful
propensities, without forfeiting the delightful feeling of energy,
and the power to operate upon events, instead of being passively
borne along by them. He will be active, that he may feel conscious
power. He will rise above the silent and invisible influence of
sloth, and will exult in a feeling of force and self-command, for
the same reasons that the eagle loves to soar aloft, and look upon
the sun; because a sensation of power, and a sublime liberty are
enjoyed in the flight. He will be temperate in the gratification
of his appetites and passions, because he is aware, that every
excessive indulgence strikes a balance of suffering against him,
which he must discharge soon, or late; and helps to forge a chain
of habit, that will render it more difficult for him to resist
the next temptation to indulgence. He will rise early from sleep,
because nature calls him to early rising, in all her cheerful
voices, in the matin song of birds, the balmy morning freshness
and elasticity of the air, and the renovated cry of joy from the
whole animal creation. He will do this, because he has early heard
complaints from all sides of the shortness of life, and because
he is sensible, that he who rises every day two hours before the
common period, will prolong the ordinary duration of life by adding
six years of the pleasantest part of existence. He will rise early,
because next after the intemperate, no human being offers a more
unworthy spectacle, than is presented by the man, who calls himself
rational and immortal, who sees before him a greater amount of
knowledge, duty and happiness, than he could hope to compass in
a thousand years; and who yet turns himself indolently from side
to side, during the hours of the awakening of nature, enjoying
only the luxury of a savage or a brute, in a state of dozing
existence little superior to the dreamless sleep of the grave. I
test the character of a youth of whom I wish to entertain hope,
by this criterion. If he can nobly resist his propensities, if he
can act from reason against his inclinations, if he can trample
indolence under foot, if he can always make the effort to show the
intellectual in the ascendant over the animal being, I note him as
one, who will be worthy of eminence, whether he attain it or not.
In a word, there is something of dignity and intellectual grandeur
in the aspect of the young, who live in obedience to the organic
and moral laws, which commands at once that undefined, and almost
unconscious estimation and respect, which all minds involuntarily
pay to true greatness. Such was the image of the poet, when he
delineated the angel _severe in youthful beauty_; and such that
of the Mantuan, when he compares Neptune rebuking and hushing the
winds, to a venerable man, allaying by his words of peace, the
uproar of an infuriated populace.
Were I to enter into details of your obligations to understand and
obey these laws, as they relate to the various periods, pursuits
and duties of life, I should offer you a volume, instead of an
outline, which, from the examples given, your own thoughts can
easily fill out. But that I may not leave these momentous duties
wholly untouched, I shall dwell a moment on their bearing upon a
most important epoch of life, one which, perhaps more than any
other, gives the color to future years either of happiness or
misery.
When the young reach that period, when nature invokes them to
assume the obligations of connubial life, this knowledge and
conformity will cause them to pause, and reflect on what is before
them, and will interdict them from following the inconsiderate
throng, in entering into that decisive condition, consulting no
other lights, than a morbid fancy, those impulses which are common
to all other animals, or sordid calculations of interest. They are
well apprized, that the declamations of satire, and the bitter
and common jest of all civilized people, upon wedded life, have
but too much foundation in truth. They perceive at a glance, that
those who with such views take on them the obligations of the
conjugal state have no right to hope anything better than satiety,
ill-humor, monotonous disgust, and the insupportable imprisonment
of two persons, in intimate and indissoluble partnership, who find
weariness and penance in being together, who are reminded, at once
by the void in their hearts, and their mutual inability to fill it,
that they must not only endure the pain of being chained together,
but feel, that they are thus barred from a happier union, partly
by shame, partly by public opinion, and, more than all, by the
obstacles, wisely thrown by all civilized nations in the way of
obtaining divorce. There can be no doubt, that the common views
of the universal unhappiness of the wedded state in all Christian
countries are the result of gross exaggeration. Making all
allowances for errors from this source, language is too feeble, to
delineate the countless and unutterable miseries, that, in all time
since the institution of marriage, as recognised by Christianity,
have resulted from these incompatible unions, for the simple
reason, that, in this transaction, of so much more moment than
almost any other, scarcely one of the parties in a thousand, it is
believed, takes the least note of it in relation to the organic
and moral laws. The young and the aged, the feeble and the strong,
the healthy and the diseased, the beautiful and the deformed,
the mild and the fierce, the intellectual and the purely animal,
the rich and the poor, bring their incompatibilities to a common
stock, add ruinous excesses of temperament together, unite under a
spell, reckless of the live-long consequences involved, and arouse
from a short trance to the conscious and sober sadness of waking
misery. To them the hackneyed declamations against marriage have
a terrible import. Weariness, discontent, ennui, relieved only by
the fierceness of domestic discord, and a wretchedness aggravated
by the consciousness that there is no escape from it, but by death,
is the issue of a union consummated under illusive expectations of
more than mortal happiness. How many millions have found this to be
the reality of their youthful dreams! Yet if this most important
union is contracted under animal impulses, without any regard to
moral and intellectual considerations, without any investigation of
the organic and social fitness of the case, without inquiry into
the compatibility, without a mutual understanding of temperament,
dispositions, and habits; who cannot foresee, that the propensities
will soon languish in satiety; that repentance and discord and
disgust and disaffection and loathing, in proportion to the
remembered raptures forever passed away, will rudely open the eyes
of the parties to their real and permanent condition, and that by
a law as certain and inevitable, as that which propels water down
a precipice! And this is not the darkest shade in the picture. By
the same laws children are born with the doubled excess of the
temperaments of their parents; or puny, undeveloped and feeble, or
racked by all the fiercer passions of our nature. Opening their
eyes in this scene, which the guilty thoughtlessness of successive
generations has rendered little better than a vast lazar house,
evil example, gloom, unregulated tempers, repining and misery are
their first and last spectacles. They advance into life to repeat
the errors of their parents, to make common stock of their misery
anew, to multiply the number of the unhappy, or perhaps worse, to
tenant hospitals, and the receptacles of human ignorance and misery.
Can any question be imagined in life, in regard to which you ought
so deliberately to pause, investigate and weigh all the bearings
of the case? And yet can any other important transaction be named,
upon which, in this view, so little thought is bestowed, and which
is entered into with such reckless blindness to consequences?
He, who determines to respect the laws of his being, will study
his own temperament, and that of the other party, and weigh the
excesses and defects, as one convinced by the general analogy
of animated nature, that the physical and mental character, the
constitutional and moral temperament of the offspring, in the
ordinary course of things, will be a compound of that of the
parents. If he find himself subject to any peculiar corporeal
infirmity, hereditary tendency to disease, overbearing propensities
towards indulgence, or excess, unbalanced passions, or morbid
mental obliquity, he will be studiously solicitous, that the other
party shall not be laboring under similar disqualifications. I may
not follow out the subordinate details. Your thoughts cannot but
suggest innumerable considerations, that I pass in silence. Will
any moral being, capable of conscientious views of the ultimate
bearing of his actions, dare to treat this subject, all momentous
as it is, with unphilosophic levity and ridicule? Will any one
say, that such discussions ought to be pretermitted by a parent? I
affirm, that such are not my notions of the obligations of decorum
and propriety. The world has been too long peopled with mere
animals bound by the laws, and doomed to the responsibilities of
rationality, and yet acting like the orders below them, without a
capacity for finding their happiness. If, being men, and inheriting
either the privileges, or the doom of men, we will choose to
consider ourselves merely as animals, shall we dare to arraign
Providence, or fill the world with murmurs, if we enjoy not the
peculiar pleasures of either race, and are subject to the miseries
of both? When you are aware that such considerations must affect
not only your own happiness, or misery, but that of your offspring,
a whole coming generation, and the hopes of the regeneration and
improvement of a world, you will be sensible, that silence in such
a discussion would be guilty pride. I perfectly coincide with the
conclusions of Combe upon this subject, and transcribe for your
benefit an admirable exposition of my views from the notes appended
to his book on the _Constitution of Man_.
‘It is a very common error, not only among philosophers, but among
practical men, to imagine that the _feelings_ of the mind are
communicated to it through the medium of the _intellect_; and,
in particular, that if no indelicate objects reach the eyes, or
expressions penetrate the ears, perfect purity will necessarily
reign within the soul; and, carrying this mistake into practice,
they are prone to object to all discussion of the subjects treated
of under the ‘Organic Laws,’ in works designed for general use.
But their principle of reasoning is fallacious, and the practical
result has been highly detrimental to society. The _feelings_
have existence and activity distinct from the _intellect_; they
spur it on to obtain their own gratification; and it may become
either their slave or guide, according as it is enlightened
concerning their constitution and objects, and the laws of nature
to which they are subjected. The most profound philosophers have
inculcated this doctrine; and, by phrenological observation, it is
demonstrably established. The organs of the feelings are distinct
from those of the intellectual faculties; they are larger; and, as
each faculty, _cæteris paribus_, acts with a power proportionate
to the size of its organ, the feelings are obviously the active
or impelling powers. The cerebellum, or organ of Amativeness, is
the largest of the whole mental organs; and, being endowed with
natural activity, it fills the mind spontaneously with emotions
and suggestions which may be directed, controlled and resisted, in
outward manifestation, by intellect and moral sentiment, but which
cannot be prevented from arising nor eradicated after they exist.
The whole question, therefore, resolves itself into this, Whether
it is most beneficial to enlighten and direct that feeling, or
(under the influence of an error in philosophy, and false delicacy
founded on it), to permit it to riot in all the fierceness of a
blind animal instinct, withdrawn from the eye of reason, but not
thereby deprived of its vehemence and importunity. The former
course appears to me to be the only one consistent with reason and
morality; and I have adopted it in reliance on the good sense of
my readers, that they will at once discriminate between practical
instruction concerning this feeling, addressed to the intellect,
and lascivious representations addressed to the mere propensity
itself; with the latter of which the enemies of all improvement
may attempt to confound my observations. Every function of the
mind and body is instituted by the Creator; all may be abused;
and it is impossible regularly to avoid abuse of them, except by
being instructed in their nature, objects, and relations. This
instruction ought to be addressed exclusively to the intellect; and
when it is so, it is science of the most beneficial description.
The propriety, nay, necessity, of acting on this principle, becomes
more and more apparent, when it is considered that the discussions
of the text suggest only intellectual ideas to individuals in
whom the feeling in question is naturally weak, and that such
minds perceive no indelicacy in knowledge which is calculated to
be useful; while, on the other hand, persons in whom the feeling
is naturally strong, are precisely those who stand in need of
direction, and to whom, of all others, instruction is the most
necessary.’
No art in these days is better understood, by those who have
found their interest in investigating the subject, than that of
improving the races of the lower animals. Every species, upon which
the effort has been made, has been found perfectly subservient
to the art. The desirable forms and qualities are selected, and
the proper means of improvement applied. The wished result is not
obtained to its full extent in the first generation; but a uniform
approximation commences; and every successive amelioration brings
the animal nearer to the requisite standard. The whole art is
founded on observation of the organic laws of the races, and the
general fact, that the instincts, qualities, temperament, form and
color of the animals are hereditary, and transmissible. These are
truths so well known, that the grazier, and the shepherd apply
them constantly in rearing their domestic animals. Shall they be
disregarded, when it becomes known, that they bear equally upon
the improvement of man, _next in dignity to angels_? Shall these
considerations rear a nobler race of animals, and, by overlooking
them, shall man alone be consigned to degradation?
LETTER III.
THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.
I proceed to examples and developments of the doctrine, chiefly
insisted upon in the former letter. I draw them chiefly from Mr
Combe, premising, that they exactly coincide with views which
you cannot but remember to have heard me advance, before I had
read his book on _the constitution of man_. It is a law of the
animal creation, that not only the natural but even the acquired
qualities are transmitted by parents to their offspring; and man,
as an organized being, is subject to laws similar to those which
govern the organization of the lower animals. ‘Children,’ says Dr
Pritchard, ‘resemble in feature and constitution both parents; but
I think more generally the father.’ Changes produced by external
causes in the constitution and appearance of the individual are
temporary; and, in general, acquired characters are transient,
terminating with the individual, and having no influence on the
progeny. The mental development of the Circassian race is known
to be of the highest order. The nobles of Persia are children of
Circassian mothers, and they are remarkable, in that country, for
their mental and corporeal superiority over the other classes.
Every one acquainted with the condition of our southern slaves,
well understands the obvious fact, that the mulattoes are much
superior, in quickness and capability of acquiring and retaining
knowledge, to the negroes. The Indian half-breeds are remarkable
for the immediate ascendency, which they acquire in their
tribes over the full-blooded Indians. In oriental India, the
intermarriages of the Hindoos with Europeans have produced an
intermediate race much superior to the natives, and destined, it
is already predicted, to be the future sovereigns of India. In
fact, physiology has deduced no conclusion more certain, than that,
in ordinary cases, the temperament and intellect of the children
are a compound of that of their parents. Of this I might produce
innumerable instances from history of the Alexanders, Cæsars, and
Antonines, the distinguished great and wise, of ancient and modern
times; and equally, in the opposite direction, in the Neros and
Caligulas, the depraved and abandoned of all ages and countries,
where observation has been able to trace their parentage.