comes in advance of old age, to destroy the tender affections. In
the slow and natural course of years, it is an event as simple, as
little to be deprecated, as the other occurrences of life. Alas!
during a short sojourn, we see those who were most dear continually
falling around us. We soon retain a less number with us than exist
already in another world. The family is divided. I am not surprised
that it becomes a matter of indifference to a wise man to remain
with his present friends, or go and rejoin those that are absent.
As long as our children have need of our support, we resemble a
traveller charged with business of extreme importance. As soon
as these cares become useless, we resemble him who travels at
leisure and by chance; and who takes up his lodging for the night
wherever the setting sun surprises him. For me, I see the second
epoch drawing near. If I reach it, I shall bless heaven for having
awarded me a sufficient number of years, and for having diffused
over them so few pains.
Let us not charge that man with weakness who, when on the eve
of departure for distant and untravelled countries, is perceived
to impart the intonation and tenderness of sorrow to his adieus.
Ought we to exact more of him whom death is about to conduct to
that ‘undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns?’
I would not seem to affect an austere and unnatural courage. But
whenever delivered from the only heart-rending agony, I will hope
and strive to preserve sufficient tranquillity of mind to impress
the sentiment on those I love, that we ought, with becoming
dignity, to submit ourselves to the immutable laws of nature; that
complaint is useless, and murmuring unjust; and that it becomes us,
with transient but subdued emotion, to say, as we receive the final
embrace, ‘may we meet again!’
LETTER XXV.
CONCLUSION OF ‘DROZ SUR L’ART D’ETRE HEUREUX.’
I shall have attained my purpose if these sketches should produce
any degree of conviction that man, in exercising his faculties, can
mitigate his pains and multiply his pleasures, and, consequently,
should serve as the outlines of a plan for reducing the pursuit of
happiness to an art. I am aware that no view could be offered more
contrary to the prevalent opinions in society. The morose and the
frivolous make common cause to attack it. To them the very idea
seems absurd; and the most indulgent among them question the good
faith of him who announces it.[62]
To such grave and learned authorities, and more, even to
the general suffrage against it, I might dare to oppose
counterbalancing authorities. From Socrates to Franklin, I see
philosophers who have been persuaded that man may be directed in
the art, and instructed in the science of happiness; and that his
faculties may be enlarged to pursue it. Who are the men that have
entertained this persuasion? The very _elite_ of the human race.
Was each individual of them surrounded by those happy circumstances
which would naturally inspire the same philosophy? They were
persons who had experienced all the conditions of life. As if
nature had studied to prove, by great examples, that our happiness
depends upon our reason more than upon our circumstances, Epictetus
lived in chains, and Marcus Aurelius on a throne.
We justly render homage to the Greek philosophers. Is their glory
founded on their physics, long since known to be full of errors,
or their metaphysics, often puerile? Upon neither; but they have
merited the veneration of ages by indicating principles, the
practice of which, would render us better and more happy.
Which of the sciences did the admirable Socrates chiefly esteem?
The single one which teaches us how to live as we ought. Let it
not be said that I substitute one science for another; and that
Socrates taught morals, and not my pretended science of happiness.
With the Greeks, morals had a perfectly definite end. Their
philosophers held all their teaching subservient to conducting
their disciples to happiness. Illustrious men! we disdain their
maxims, but still revere their names. What fruit have we obtained
from the boasted light and improvement of the age? We speak with
enthusiasm of those sciences which they judged frivolous; and we
treat as chimerical those studies which they judged alone worthy of
human nature.
Suppose it had been said to these philosophers, ‘you will never
reform the human race; and, instead of profitless dreams about
wisdom and happiness, you ought to desist from subjects so futile,
and consecrate your vigils to sciences more worthy to occupy your
thoughts.’ Would they not have smiled with pity upon such counsel?
Had they deigned to reply, would they not have said, ‘We are well
aware that we shall not purify the heart of the wicked of its
pride, envy, cupidity; but shall we derive no glory from having
confirmed some good men in their career? In the midst of storms
we felt our energies invigorated as we perceived that our spirits
were in accordance with theirs. However feeble may have been the
influence of our writings, affront not humanity by supposing that
ours, however partial may have been their circulation, will,
nowhere, find minds worthy to profit by them. Perhaps they will
kindle the holy love of virtue in some of those who may read them
in the youthful age of unsophisticated and generous resolutions.
Few, who read, will practise our doctrine in all its extent. Almost
every one will be indebted to it for some solitary principles. It
is possible we may never have numerous disciples. But we shall
have some in all countries and in all time. It is a truth that
ought to satisfy us, that such discussions are based neither upon
exaggeration nor revery. The science of happiness would indeed
be chimerical if we expected that it would impart the same charms
to all predicaments in which our lot might cast us. Instead of
indulging such visionary hopes, if these discussions dissipate
the errors which veil the true good from our eyes, if we learn to
bring together all the easy and innocent pleasures, and to render
the painful moments of life more rapid, we have been taught an art
which it is possible to demonstrate and improve to an indefinite
extent.’
Does this art appear difficult? Let any one be named which it
exacts no effort to acquire. Will it be thought that it cannot
become of general utility? Will professors, of the highest
reputation, cease to teach eloquence because they do not form
as many orators as they have pupils? The more maturely I have
reflected upon the art in question, the more clearly I am convinced
that it may be assimilated to the other arts. It differs from them
only in its superior importance. The interest and attention that
all the rest merit should be measured only by their relation, more
or less direct, to this first of all arts. To settle the utility of
any science, law, enterprise, or action, I know no better measure
than to note its influence on human happiness.
If moral lessons leave but a transient influence, it may be
attributed to two principal causes; the weakness of our nature, and
the contagion of example. A third belongs to those who teach us the
doctrine of morals, and is found in their exaggeration of their
doctrine. They elevate the altar of wisdom upon steep mountains;
and discourage our first steps, by proclaiming the painful efforts
necessary to scale them. From the sadness of the ministers of the
worship, it would not be inferred, that the divinity of the place
was liberal in dispensing pure pleasures, bright hopes, oblivion of
pain, and remembrances almost as pleasant as either.
It is a fatal error to imagine that it is useful to exaggerate
the doctrine of morals. To do this, fails not to excite disgust
towards the precepts inculcated. Men, that have been deceived
upon these points, as soon as they judge for themselves, in their
impatience to shake off the yoke of prejudices, are tempted to
reject principles the most wise with those errors by which they
have been misled. That we may be heard and followed, let us be
true. Let us present, with force, the evils which the abuse of our
faculties brings upon our short career.--Let us avow with equal
frankness, that we commit an egregious mistake, if we refuse, or
neglect to draw from our faculties all the advantages in our power,
to embellish life.
The doctrine of morals is a phrase that has been often employed
to designate the propagation of false and extravagant principles.
For this phrase, which is too worn out, and of equivocal import,
suppose we substitute a definition, which will clearly indicate
the end, towards which, morals ought to be directed. Morals is
that which teaches the art of happiness. If it be not so, the
foundation of ethics is a mere matter of convention, either useless
or dangerous.
Morals should be taught only as subservient to happiness. Austerity
should be banished equally from the manner of teaching and from
the matter that is taught.--They are the useful teachers, whose
tenderness of heart impels them rather to inspire virtue than to
enjoin it; and whose brilliant imagination enables them to offer
wise principles under such pleasant forms as charm the mind and
awaken curiosity. If I were to point to one of the best works on
morals, according to my judgment, I would name ‘_The Vicar of
Wakefield_.’ To present a family struggling with every form of
misfortune, and constantly opposing resignation or courage to each,
is to offer the sublimest painting that it is possible to execute.
The concurrence of genius and virtue could alone have conceived the
idea. All good men owe the tribute of gratitude and veneration to
the memory of the author.
The concurrent influence of public institutions and education would
be necessary to render the general habits conformable to happiness.
Books, the influence of which I certainly have not exaggerated, may
be useful to men, raised by the discipline of their reason above
the multitude. That man is happy, who knows how to add good books
to the number of his friends, who often retires from the world
to enjoy their peaceful and instructive conversation, and always
brings back serenity, courage and hope.
Were the doctrine true, that it is impossible to increase the
happiness or diminish the evils of life, it is not perceived that
it would not still be necessary to follow my principles. Preach
this discouraging doctrine to a good man, and you may afflict him,
but will obtain no influence over his conduct. He will always
strive to improve his condition, mitigate the sufferings that press
upon him, and render men more compassionate and happy. Such noble
efforts cannot be entirely lost. The pure intentions, the sincere
wishes, which he forms for the good of his kind, give to his mind
a pleasant serenity. It assures his own happiness to meditate the
means of increasing that of others.
LETTER XXVI.
THE CHOICE OF A PROFESSION.
The considerate Knight of La Mancha would not dismiss his follower
and friend to the government of Barataria, without a few more last
words, and without arming him for his high functions with a copious
homily of counsels and admonitions. Before I leave you to the
stern encounter of the painful emergencies of life, to unravel its
intricacies, and settle its innumerable perplexing and difficult
alternatives, I do not mean to oppress your memory with the
thousand and one particular directions, to meet every imaginable
occurrence with the right mode of conduct. Innumerable cases of
perplexity will be continually occurring, that can only be settled
by extempore judgment and prudence. I shall limit my counsels to a
single one among the many questions of universal application, each
one of which present a great variety of aspects and alternatives;
questions of difficult solution for the young; and yet on the right
disposal of which depend their character, success and happiness
in life. Among the subjects to which I refer, are, the choice of
a profession--decision in regard to our plans and projects--the
selection of our company--the dispositions with which we should
regard the place assigned us in society--the deportment appropriate
to gentlemen and ladies--the proper selection of books--the mode
and place of worship, and what are the best evidences of true
wisdom in character. The first of these is the only one upon which
I shall offer you my remarks.
In the choice of a profession, the first point to be consulted is
our physical and mental temperament and endowment, or aptitude.
That some are constituted for sedentary and inactive pursuits,
others to beat the anvil, follow the plough, or mount the reeling
mast with a firm step in the uproar of a tempest; some for the
bar, others for the pulpit, and still others to be musicians,
painters, poets or engineers, I consider a truth so universally and
obviously taught by observation and experience, that I shall not
deem it necessary to pause to prove it to such as would contest
it. I am sufficiently informed that there are those who contend
that all minds are formed equal and alike--and that all the after
differences result from education and circumstances. With them,
Virgil and Byron had no constitutional aptitudes to poetry, and
the same training that gave Handel and Gluck their preëminence in
music, would have imparted to any other mind equal skill. According
to their system, La Place and Zerah Colburn were no earlier or
more strongly inclined to mathematics, than other children. These
sapient physiologists in descending to the animal tribes, ought to
find, that web-footed animals had no natural aptitude for water,
the canine tribes for animal food, and the ruminating, to feed on
grass and vegetables. I shall leave those who hold this dogma to
retain it unquestioned so far as I am concerned; and they will
be obliged to leave me to mine, which is, that there are immense
differences in the physical and mental constitution, differences
which every enlightened parent discovers in his children from the
very dawn of their faculties--differences which every intelligent
instructer notes in his pupils, as soon as he becomes intimately
acquainted with them--differences which, to keen and close
observation, distinguish more or less each individual in the
immense mass of society. No matter how much alike these persons are
reared and trained; the most striking diversities of endowment are
often observed in members of the same family, reared and educated
with all possible uniformity. This is, no doubt, a beautiful trait
of that general impress of variety, which providence has marked
upon every portion of the animate and inanimate creation. Nature
has willed, that not only men should possess an untiring diversity
of form, countenance and mind, but that not two pebbles on the
shore, or insects in the air, should be found precisely alike. The
sign manual of the Creator on his works is a grand and infinite
variety.
The physiological inquiry whence these differences of temperament
and aptitude arise, is one, which belongs to another subject;
though I have no wish to conceal my belief, that the fundamental
positions of phrenology are as immovably founded in fact, and as
certainly follow from observation, as the leading axioms of any
physical science. It is enough for my present purpose, that the
order of every form of society calls for an infinite variety of
aptitude, talent and vocation, and that nature has furnished the
requisite variety of endowment, adequately to meet those calls.
The ancient system, still in use, goes on the supposition, that
all minds are originally alike; and that all children are equally
fit to be trained for each of the vocations. Hence we see tailors
at the anvil, and blacksmiths on the shopboard, innumerable
excellent ploughmen generating prose, and sleeping at the bar and
pulpit, and ingenious fiddlers ruined as engineers; in a word, all
that ludicrous disarrangement and seeming play at cross purposes,
in virtue of which, men, who would have been borne, by a strong
current, to the first place in the profession for which nature
designed them, become dull and useless in another. A great part
of the whole labor of instruction has thus been worse than thrown
away. It has been the hard effort of poetic fiction, laboring the
huge stone up an acclivity, to see it recoil and hear it thunder
back again; the effort to circumvent, and cross the purposes of
nature.
It seems to me to be among the most responsible inquiries of a
parent and a conscientious instructor, what pursuit or calling is
indicated for his child by his temperament and aptitude? The boy,
who, like Pope, even in childhood lisps in numbers, because the
numbers come, will probably be found to have not only an ear for
the peculiar harmony of rhythm, but an inventive mind, stored with
images, and a quick eye to catch the various phases of nature and
society. If placed under favorable circumstances, and judicious
training, this child will become a poet, while ninety-nine in a
hundred of those, who make verses, could by no forcing of nature
ever rise higher than rhymers. Thus may be detected the embryo
germs of temperament, endowment and character, which give the
undeveloped promise of the future orator, lawyer, mathematician,
naturalist, mechanician, in a word, of the mind fitted to attain
distinction in any walk in society. I am aware of the mistakes,
which fond and doting parents are likely to make, in interpreting
an equivocal, perhaps an accidental sally of the cherished child,
to be a sure proof of genius and endowment. No judicious and
intelligent parent will be in much danger of being led astray by
fondness so weak and misguided.--Wherever real endowment exists, it
never fails to put forth continual indications. It is the elastic
vigor of nature working at the root, to which no foolish partiality
will be blind.
It is true, that nature, equally beneficent in what she has
granted, and what she has withheld, forms the million for the
common duties and undistinguished employments; stamps them at once
with a characteristic uniformity and variety; and sends them forth
with specific adaptations, but not so strongly marked, as not to
be mistaken with comparative impunity. Hence the ordinary pursuits
and employments of life are conducted with general success,
notwithstanding these smaller mistakes in regard to endowment.
Not so in those rarer instances, where she has seen fit to stamp
the clear and strong impress of peculiar endowment and aptitude,
in which the embryo poet, painter, mathematician, naturalist, and
orator are indicated by such unequivocal signs, as cannot easily
be overlooked, or mistaken by any competent judge. Hence, in the
biography of most of those who have truly and greatly distinguished
themselves, we are informed that the most ordinary people about
them were perfectly aware of the harbingers of their future
greatness. I am confident, that to keen and faithful observation
these harbingers are as palpable in the germ, as in the
development. To mistake in such a case, and not only to withdraw
the youthful aspirant from the career to which nature beckons him,
but to force him into one, in which every effort must be rowing
against the stream, is to consign him to an Egyptian bondage, a
slavery of the soul, by which many a spirit of firmer mould has
been broken down, and lost to society, and others worse than lost,
rendered the scourge and curse of all with whom their lot was cast.
Such as have arrived at a maturity of reason and years, to have the
responsibility of the choice of a profession cast upon themselves,
will infer, what are my views in regard to the first element, by
which they ought to be directed. It involves a previous question,
for what pursuit or calling their temperament, faculties and
powers best fit them? By long and close observation, pursued
with a fidelity proportioned to its importance, by intent study
of themselves, as called out by the changes of their health and
prospects, the fluctuations of their spirits, their collisions
with society, in all the contingencies that befall them, they can
scarcely fail to form some conception of the peculiar cast of their
powers, and the walk in life, for which their capabilities are best
adapted. If they select wisely in this respect, habit and time will
certainly render it the profession of their inclinations.
As soon as the mind begins to survey the professions, in regard
to the honors, emolument and success, which they respectively
offer, there is great danger, lest imagination, taking the place
of reason, should look at the scene through a prism, and see
all the chances of an illusive brilliancy of promise, which
sober experience will be sure to disappoint. There are the
immense promises of the law, alluring a crowd of aspirants and
competitors, the greater portion of whom must fail to realize their
expectations. There are the honors of the physician, binding him,
by the strongest of all ties, to the confidence and affection of
the families that employ him. He exercises the only profession that
does not depend upon the caprice of fashion, or the vibrations of
transient feeling.--There is the ministry, with its time-honored
claims, its peculiar title to be admitted to the privacy of
affection, sickness and death, and its paramount capability of the
highest forms of that only eloquence that swells and softens the
heart, by coming home to men’s business and bosoms. There is the
varied range, and the rapidly acquired fortunes of merchandize and
commerce; the growing interest and importance of the new portico
to a new order of nobility, manufactures. There is agriculture,
always seen to be the most satisfactory and useful of employments,
and now rapidly coming to be viewed in the light of scientific
investigation and of a liberal pursuit. To adjust and settle the
respective views, which the judgment and imagination will take of
the chances of these various pursuits, and their contiguity to
love, marriage, wealth, and distinction, will be found to be no
easy task. Sometimes one view will predominate--sometimes another;
and the mind appears like a pendulum vibrating between them.
Reason presents one decisive view of the subject. All these
chances--all these balances of advantage and disadvantage have
long since settled to their actual and natural level. If the law
presents more tempting baits, and more rich and glittering prizes,
over-crowded competition, heart-wearing scramble, difficulty of
rising above the common level, into the sun and air of distinction,
are appended, as inevitable weights, in the opposing scale. The
advantages and disadvantages of all the professions are adjusted
by the level of society, exactly in the same way. He who is guided
in this inquiry by common sense, will comprehend at a glance, that
it is impossible, in the nature of things, to combine all the
advantages and evade all the disadvantages of any one pursuit. No
expectation more irrational and disappointing can be indulged, than
to unite incompatible circumstances of happiness. The inquirer
must reflect, that such a pursuit connects a series of fortunate
chances; but there are the counterbalancing evils. Such another
has a different series of both. It is folly to expect to form an
amalgam of these immiscible elements. Reason can expect no more
than that we unite in the calling, finally fixed upon, as many
fortunate circumstances as possible, and avoid, as far as may be,
its inconveniences and evils.
NOTES.
NOTES.
Note 1, page 39.