,illustration                           
,,solitude3                             
,,by                             ,,john 
,g4 ,,zimmerman4                        
,with the ,life of the ,author4         
,illustration                           
,,in ,,two ,,parts4                     
,,new-,,york3--,c4 ,,wells4             
#ef1 ,gold-street4                      
#ahdj4          ,,contents4             
,,chap4                                 
,,page4                                 
,,part ,i4              ,life of the    
author                                  
#i           ,i4 ,introduction1         
#ae          ,,ii4 ,influence of        
solitude upon the mind1                 
#ai         ,,iii4 ,influence of        
solitude upon the heart1                
#fj          ,,iv4 ,general advantages  
of retirement1                          
#aji           ,v4 ,advantages of       
solitude in exile1                      
#acd          ,,vi4 ,advantages of      
solitude in old age and on the bed of   

death1   #ach                           
,,part ,,ii4           ,i4              
,introduction1                          
#adi          ,,ii4 ,of the motives to  
solitude1                               
#aeg         ,,iii4 ,disadvantages of   
solitude1                               
#ahe          ,,iv4 ,influence of       
solitude on the imagination1            
#bjj           ,v4 ,effects of solitude 
on a melancholy mind1                   
#baf          ,,vi4 ,influence of       
solitude on the passions1               
#bce         ,,vii4 ,of the danger of   
idleness in solitude1                   
#bgd        ,,viii4 ,conclusion1        
#bgi          ,,preface4      ,weak and 
delicate minds may1 perhaps1 be alarmed 
by the title of this  work4 ,the word   
solitude1 may possibly engender         
melancholy ideas2 but  they have only to
 read a few pages to be undeceived4 ,the
 author is not  one of those extravagant
 misanthropists who expect that men1    
formed by  nature for the enjoyments of 

society1 and impelled continually       
towards  it by a multitude of powerful  
and invincible propensities1 should seek
  refuge in forests1 and inhabit the    
dreary cave or lonely cell2 he is a     
friend to the species1 a rational       
philosopher1 and the virtuous citizen1  
who1 encouraged by the esteem of his    
sovereign1 endeavors to enlighten  the  
minds of his fellow creatures upon a    
subject of infinite importance  to them1
 the attainment of true felicity4    ,no
 writer appears more completely         
convinced than ,m4 ,zimmerman1 that man 
is born for society1 or feels its duties
 with more refined sensibility4    ,it  
is the nature of human society1 and its 
correspondent duties1 which he  here    
undertakes to examine4 ,the important   
characters of father1 husband1  son1 and
 citizen1 impose on man a variety of    
obligations1 which are  always dear to  
virtuous minds1 and establish between   
him1 his country1  his family1 and his  
friends1 relations too necessary and    

attractive to be  disregarded4          
8,what wonder1 therefore1 since th'     
endearing ties      ,of passion link the
 universal kind      ,of man so close2  
what wonder if to search      ,this     
common nature through the various change
      ,of sex1 of age1 and fortune1 and 
the frame      ,of each peculiar1 draw  
the busy mind      ,with unresisted     
charms8 ,the spacious west1      ,and   
all the teeming regions of the south1   
,hold not a quarry to the curious       
flight1      ,of knowledge half so      
tempting or so fair1      ,as man to    
man40    ,but it is not amidst          
tumultuous joys and noisy pleasures2 in 
the chimeras  of ambition1 or the       
illusions of self-love2 in the          
indulgence of feeling1  or the          
gratification of desire1 that men must  
expect to feel the charms  of those     
mutual ties which link them so firmly to
 society4 ,it is not  in such enjoyments
 that men can feel the dignity of those 
duties1 the  performance of which nature

 has rendered productive of so many     
pleasures1  or hope to taste that true  
felicity which results from an          
independent  mind and a contented heart3
 a felicity seldom sought after1 only   
because  it is so little known1 but     
which every individual may find within  
his  own bosom4 ,who1 alas6 does not    
constantly experience the necessity of  
entering into that sacred asylum to     
search for consolation under the real   
or imaginary misfortunes of life1 or to 
alleviate indeed more frequently  the   
fatigue of its painful pleasures8 ,yes1 
all men1 from the mercenary  trader1 who
 sinks under the anxiety of his daily   
task1 to the proud  statesman1          
intoxicated by the incense of popular   
applause1 experience the  desire of     
terminating their arduous career4 ,every
 bosom feels an anxiety  for repose1 and
 fondly wishes to steal from the vortex 
of a busy and  perturbed life1 to enjoy 
the tranquillity of solitude4           
8,hackney'd in business1 wearied at that

 oar      ,which thousands1 once chain'd
 fast to1 quit no more1      ,but which1
 when life at ebb1 runs weak and low1   
,all wish1 or seem to wish1 they could  
forego2      ,the statesman1 lawyer1    
merchant1 man of trade1      ,pant for  
the refuge of a peaceful shade          
,where all his long anxieties forgot1   
,amidst the charms of a sequester'd     
spot1      ,or recollected only to gild 
o'er      ,and add a smile to what was  
sweet before1      ,he may possess the  
joys he thinks he sees1      ,lay his   
old age upon the lap of ease1           
,improve the remnant of his wasted span1
      ,and having liv'd a trifler1 die a
 man40    ,it is under the peaceful     
shades of solitude that the mind        
regenerates  and acquires fresh force2  
it is there alone that the happy can    
enjoy the  fulness of felicity1 or the  
miserable forget their wo2 it is there  
that  the bosom of sensibility          
experiences its most delicious emotions2
 it is  there that creative genius frees

 itself from the thraldom of society1   
and surrenders itself to the impetuous  
rays of an ardent imagination4 ,to  this
 desired goal all our ideas and desires 
perpetually tend4 8,there  is10 says    
,dr4 ,johnson1 8scarcely any writer1 who
 has not celebrated the  happiness of   
rural privacy1 and delighted himself and
 his readers with  the melody of birds1 
the whisper of groves1 and the murmurs  
of rivulets2  nor any man eminent for   
extent of capacity1 or greatness of     
exploits1  that has not left behind him 
some memorials of lonely wisdom and     
silent  dignity40    ,the original work 
from which the following pages are      
selected1 consists  of four large       
volumes1 which have acquired the        
universal approbation of  the ,german   
empire1 and obtained the suffrages of an
 empress celebrated  for the superior   
brilliancy of her mind1 and who has     
signified her  approbation in the most  
flattering manner4    ,on the #bfth of  
,january1 #aghe1 a courier1 dispatched  

by the ,russian envoy  at ,hamburg1     
presented ,m4 ,zimmerman with a small   
casket1 in the name of  her majesty the 
empress of ,russia4 ,the casket         
contained a ring set round  with        
diamonds of an extraordinary size and   
lustre2 and a gold medal  bearing on one
 side the portrait of the empress1 and  
on the other the  date of the happy     
reformation of the ,russian empire4     
,this present the  empress accompanied  
with a letter1 written with her own     
hand1 containing  these remarkable      
words3--8,to ,m4 ,zimmerman1 counsellor 
of state1 and  physician to his         
,britannic majesty1 to thank him for the
 excellent  precepts he has given to    
mankind in his treatise upon solitude40 
,,life ,,of ,,zimmerman4      ,john     
,george ,zimmerman was born on the #hth 
day of ,december1 #agbh1 at  ,brugg1 a  
small town in the canton of ,berne4     
,his father1 ,john ,zimmerman1 was      
eminently distinguished as an able and  
eloquent member of the provincial       

council4 ,his mother1 who was equally   
respected and beloved for her good      
sense1 easy manners1 and modest         
virtues1 was the daughter of the        
celebrated ,pache1 whose extraordinary  
learning and great abilities1 had       
contributed to advance him to a seat in 
the parliament of ,paris4    ,the father
 of ,zimmerman undertook the arduous    
task of superintending his  education1  
and1 by the assistance of able          
preceptors1 instructed him in  the      
rudiments of all the useful and         
ornamental sciences1 until he had       
attained the age of fourteen years1 when
 he sent him to the university of       
,berne1 where1 under ,kirchberger1 the  
historian and professor of rhetoric1    
and ,altman1 the celebrated ,greek      
professor1 he studied1 for three  years1
 philology and the belles lettres1 with 
unremitting assiduity and  attention4   
,having passed nearly five years at the 
university1 he began to think  of       
applying the stores of information he   

had acquired to the purposes  of active 
life2 and after mentioning the subject  
cursorily to a few  relations1 he       
immediately resolved to follow the      
practice of physic4 ,the  extraordinary 
fame of ,haller1 who had recently been  
promoted by king  ,george ,,ii4 to a    
professorship in the university of      
,gottingen1 resounded  at this time     
throughout ,europe3 and ,zimmerman      
determined to prosecute  his studies in 
physic under the auspices of this great 
and celebrated  master4 ,he was admitted
 into the university on the #abth of    
,september1  #agdg1 and obtained his    
degree on the #adth of ,august1 #agea4  
,to relax his  mind from severer        
studies1 he cultivated a complete       
knowledge of the  ,english language1 and
 became so great a proficient in the    
polite and  elegant literature of this  
country1 that the ,british poets1       
particularly  ,shakspeare1 ,pope1 and   
,thomson1 were as familiar to him as his
 favorite  authors1 ,homer and ,virgil4 

,every moment1 in short1 of the four    
years he  passed at ,gottingen1 was     
employed in the improvement of his mind2
 and so  early as the year #agea1 he    
produced a work in which he discovered  
the  dawnings of that extraordinary     
genius which afterwards spread abroad   
with  so much effulgence4#a    ,during  
the early part of his residence at      
,berne1 he published many  excellent    
essays on various subjects in the       
,helvetic ,journal2  particularly a work
 on the talents and erudition of        
,haller4 ,this grateful  tribute1 to the
 just merits of his friend and          
benefactor1 he afterwards  enlarged into
 a complete history of his life and     
writings1 as a scholar1  a philosopher1 
a physician1 and a man4    ,the health  
of ,haller1 which had suffered greatly  
by the severity of  study1 seemed to    
decline in proportion as his fame       
increased2 and1  obtaining permission to
 leave ,gottingen1 he repaired to       
,berne1 to try1  by the advice and      

assistance of ,zimmerman1 to restore1 if
 possible1 his  decayed constitution4   
,the benefits he experienced in a short 
time were so  great1 that he determined 
to relinquish his professorship1 and to 
pass  the remainder of his days in that 
city4 ,in the family of ,haller1 lived  
a young lady1 nearly related to him1    
whose maiden name was ,mely1 and  whose 
husband1 ,m4 ,stek1 had been sometime   
dead4 ,zimmerman became deeply  enamored
 of her charms3 he offered her his hand 
in marriage2 and they  were united at   
the altar in the bands of mutual        
affection4    ,soon after his union with
 this amiable woman1 the situation of   
physician  to the town of ,brugg became 
vacant1 which he was invited by the     
inhabitants to fill2 and he accordingly 
relinquished the pleasures and          
advantages he enjoyed at ,berne and     
returned to the place of his nativity1  
with a view to settle himself there for 
life4 ,his time1 however1 was not  so   
entirely engrossed by the duties of his 

profession1 as to prevent him  from     
indulging his mind in the pursuits of   
literature2 and he read almost  every   
work of reputed merit1 whether of       
physic1 or moral philosophy1  belles    
lettres1 history1 voyages1 or even      
novels and romances1 which the  various 
presses of ,europe from time to time    
produced4 ,the novels and  romances of  
,england1 in particular1 gave him great 
delight4    ,but the amusements which   
,brugg afforded were extremely confined3
 and he  fell into a state of nervous   
langor1 or rather into a peevish        
dejection  of spirits1 neglecting       
society1 and devoting himself almost    
entirely to a  retired and sedentary    
life4    ,under these circumstances1    
this excellent and able man passed      
fourteen  years of an uneasy life2 but  
neither his increasing practice1 the    
success of his literary pursuits1#b the 
exhortations of his friends1  nor the   
endeavors of his family1 were able to   
remove the melancholy and  discontent   

that preyed continually on his mind4    
,after some fruitless  efforts to please
 him1 he was in the beginning of ,april1
 #agfh1 appointed  by the interest of   
,dr4 ,tissot1 and baron ,hockstettin1 to
 the post of  principal physician to the
 king of ,great ,britain1 at ,hanover2  
and he  departed from ,brugg1 to take   
possession of his new office1 on the    
#dth of  ,july1 in the same year4 ,here 
he was plunged into the deepest         
affliction  by the loss of his amiable  
wife1 who after many years of lingering 
sufferance1 and pious resignation1      
expired in his arms1 on the #bc;d of    
,june1 #aggj2 an event which he has     
described in the following work1  with  
eloquent tenderness and sensibility4    
,his children too1 were to  him         
additional causes of the keenest anguish
 and the deepest distress4  ,his        
daughter had from her earliest infancy1 
discovered symptoms of  consumption1 so 
strong and inveterate as to defy all the
 powers of  medicine1 and which1 in the 

summer of #agha1 destroyed her life4    
,the  character of this amiable girl1   
and the feelings of her afflicted father
  on this melancholy event1 his own pen 
has very affectingly described in  the  
following work4    ,but the state and   
condition of his son was still more     
distressing to his  feelings than even  
the death of his beloved daughter4 ,this
 unhappy youth1  who1 while he was at   
the university1 discovered the finest   
fancy and the  soundest understanding1  
either from a malignant and inveterate  
species of  scrofula1 with which he had 
been periodically tortured from his     
earliest  infancy1 or from too close an 
application to study1 fell very early in
  life into a state of bodily infirmity 
and mental langor1 which terminated  in 
the month of ,december1 #aggg1 in a     
total derangement of his faculties2  and
 he has now continued1 in spite of every
 endeavor to restore him1 a  perfect    
idiot for more than twenty years4       
,the domestic comforts of ,zimmerman    

were now almost entirely destroyed2     
till at length1 he fixed upon the       
daughter of ,m4 ,berger1 the king's     
physician at ,lunenbourg1 and niece to  
baron de ,berger1 as a person in  every 
respect qualified to make him happy1 and
 they were united to each  other in     
marriage about the beginning of         
,october1 #aghb4 ,zimmerman was  nearly 
thirty years older than his bride3 but  
genius and good sense are  always young3
 and the similarity of their characters 
obliterated all  recollection of        
disparity of age4    ,it was at this    
period that he composed his great and   
favorite work on  solitude1 thirty years
 after the publication of his first     
essay on the  subject4 ,it consists of  
four volumes in quarto3 the two first of
 which  were published in #aghd2 and the
 remaining volumes in #aghf4 8,a work10 
says ,tissot1 8which will always be read
 with as much profit as pleasure1  as it
 contains the most sublime conceptions1 
the greatest sagacity of  observation1  

and extreme propriety of application1   
much ability in the  choice of examples1
 and 7what ,i cannot commend too highly1
 because ,i can  say nothing that does  
him so much honor1 nor give him any     
praise that  would be more gratifying to
 his own heart7 a constant anxiety for  
the  interest of religion1 with the     
sacred and solemn truths of which his   
mind  was most devoutly impressed40     
,the king of ,prussia1 while he was     
reviewing his troops in ,silesia1 in the
  autumn of the year #aghe1 caught a    
severe cold1 which settled on his lungs 
and in the course of nine months brought
 on symptoms of an approaching  dropsy4 
,zimmerman1 by two very flattering      
letters of the #fth and #afth of  ,june1
 #aghf1 was solicited by his majesty to 
attend him1 and he arrived at  ,potzdam 
on the #bc;d of the same month2 but he  
immediately discovered that  his royal  
patient had but little hopes of         
recovery2 and1 after trying  the effect 
of such medicines as he thought most    

likely to afford relief1  he returned to
 ,hanover on the #aath of ,july         
following4#c ,but it was not  ,frederick
 alone who discovered his abilities4    
,when in the year #aghh1 the  melancholy
 state of the king of ,england's health 
alarmed the affection of  his subjects1 
and produced an anxiety throughout      
,europe for his recovery1  the          
government of ,hanover dispatched       
,zimmerman to ,holland1 that he might   
be nearer ,london1 in case his presence 
there became necessary2 and he          
continued at the ,hague until all danger
 was over4    ,zimmerman was the first  
who had the courage to unveil the       
dangerous  principles of the new        
philosophers1 and to exhibit to the eyes
 of the  ,german princes the risk they  
ran in neglecting to oppose the progress
 of  so formidable a league4 ,he        
convinced many of them1 and particularly
 the  emperor ,leopold ,,ii4 that the   
views of these illuminated conspirators 
were the destruction of ,christianity1  

and the subversion of all regular       
government4 ,these exertions1 while they
 contributed to lessen the danger  which
 threatened his adopted country1 greatly
 impaired his health4    ,in the month  
of ,november1 #agid1 he was obliged to  
have recourse to  strong opiates to     
procure even a short repose3 his        
appetite decreased2  his strength failed
 him2 and he became so weak and         
emaciated1 that1  in ,january #agie1 he 
was induced to visit a few particular   
patients in  his carriage1 it was       
painful to him to write a prescription1 
and he  frequently fainted while        
ascending to the room4 ,these symptoms  
were  followed by a dizziness in his    
head1 which obliged him to relinquish   
all business4 ,at length the axis of his
 brain gave way1 and reduced him  to    
such a state of mental imbecility1 that 
he was haunted continually  by an idea  
that the enemy was plundering his house1
 and that he and  his family were       
reduced to a state of misery and want4  

,his medical  friends1 particularly ,dr4
 ,wichman1 by whom he was constantly    
attended1  contributed their advice and 
assistance to restore him to health2 and
  conceiving that a journey and a change
 of air were the best remedies  that    
could be applied1 they sent him to      
,eutin1 in the duchy of ,holstein1      
where he continued three months1 and    
about the month of ,june1 #agie1        
returned to ,hanover greatly recovered4 
,but the fatal dart had infixed  itself 
too deeply to be entirely removed2 he   
soon afterwards relapsed  into his      
former imbecility1 and barely existed in
 lingering sufferance  for many months1 
refusing to take any medicines1 and     
scarcely any food2  continually harassed
 and distressed by the cruel allusion of
 poverty1  which again haunted his      
imagination4 ,at certain intervals his  
mind  seemed to recover only for the    
purpose of rendering him sensible of his
  approaching dissolution2 for he       
frequently said to his physicians1 8,my 

death ,i perceive will be slow and      
painful20 and1 about fourteen hours     
before he died1 he exclaimed1 8,leave me
 to myself2 ,i am dying40 ,at  length   
his emaciated body and exhausted mind   
sunk beneath the burden of  mortality1  
and he expired without a groan1 on the  
#gth ,october1 #agie1 aged  #ff years   
and ten months4          ,,solitude2    
,,or ,,the ,,influence ,,of ,,occasional
 ,,retirement ,,upon ,,the ,,mind ,,and 
,,heart4          ,,chapter ,i4         
,introduction4      ,solitude is that   
intellectual state in which the mind    
voluntarily  surrenders itself to its   
own reflections4 ,the philosopher1      
therefore1 who  withdraws his attention 
from every external object to the       
contemplation  of his own ideas1 is not 
less solitary than he who abandons      
society1 and  resigns himself entirely  
to the calm enjoyments of lonely life4  
,the word 8solitude0 does not           
necessarily import a total retreat from 
the  world and its concerns3 the dome of

 domestic society1 a rural village1  or 
the library of a learned friend1 may    
respectively become the seat  of        
solitude1 as well as the silent shade of
 some sequestered spot far  removed from
 all connection with mankind4    ,a     
person may be frequently solitary       
without being alone4 ,the haughty       
baron1 proud of his illustrious descent1
 is solitary unless he is  surrounded by
 his equals3 a profound reasoner is     
solitary at the tables  of the witty and
 the gay4 ,the mind may be as abstracted
 amidst a numerous  assembly2 as much   
withdrawn from every surrounding object2
 as retired  and concentrated in itself2
 as solitary1 in short1 as a monk in his
  cloister1 or a hermit in his cave4    
,solitude1 indeed1 may exist amidst the 
tumultuous intercourse of an agitated   
city as well as in the peaceful  shades 
of rural retirement2 at ,london and at  
,paris1 as well as on the  plains of    
,thebes and the deserts of ,nitria4     
,the mind1 when withdrawn from external 

objects1 adopts1 freely and             
extensively1 the dictates of its own    
ideas1 and implicitly follows  the      
taste1 the temperament1 the inclination1
 and the genius1 of its  possessor4     
,sauntering through the cloisters of the
 ,magdalen convent at  ,hidelshiem1 ,i  
could not observe1 without a smile1 an  
aviary of canary  birds1 which had been 
bred in the cell of a female devotee4 ,a
 gentleman  of ,brabant1 lived          
five-and-twenty years without ever going
 out of his  house1 entertaining himself
 during that long period with forming a 
magnificent cabinet of pictures and     
paintings4 ,even unfortunate captives1  
who are doomed to perpetual             
imprisonment1 may soften the rigors of  
their  fate1 by resigning themselves1 as
 far as their situation will permit1 to 
the ruling passion of their souls4      
,michael ,ducret1 the ,swiss            
philosopher1  while he was confined in  
the castle of ,aarburg1 in the canton of
 ,berne1  in ,swisserland1 measured the 

height of the ,alps3 and while the mind 
of  baron ,trenck1 during his           
imprisonment at ,magdebourg1 was with   
incessant  anxiety1 fabricating projects
 to effect his escape1 general ,walrave1
  the companion of his captivity1       
contentedly passed his time in feeding  
chickens4    ,the human mind1 in        
proportion as it is deprived of external
 resources1  sedulously labors to find  
within itself the means of happiness1   
learns  to rely with confidence on its  
own exertions1 and gains with greater   
certainty the power of being happy4     
,a work1 therefore1 on the subject of   
solitude1 appeared to me likely to      
facilitate man in his search after true 
felicity4    ,unworthy1 however1 as the 
dissipation and pleasures of the world  
appear  to me to be1 of the avidity with
 which they are pursued1 ,i equally     
disapprove of the extravagant system    
which inculcates a total dereliction  of
 society2 which will be found1 when     
seriously examined1 to be equally       

romantic and impracticable4 ,to be able 
to live independent of all  assistance1 
except from our own power1 is1 ,i       
acknowledge1 a noble effort  of the     
human mind2 but it is equally great and 
dignified to learn the art  of enjoying 
the comforts of society with happiness  
to ourselves1 and with  utility to      
others4    ,while1 therefore1 ,i exhort 
my readers to listen to the advantages  
of  occasional retirement1 ,i warn them 
against that dangerous excess into      
which some of the disciples of this     
philosophy have fallen2 an excess       
equally repugnant to reason and         
religion4 ,may ,i happily steer through 
all the dangers with which my subject is
 surrounded2 sacrifice nothing  to      
prejudice2 offer no violation to truth2 
and gain the approbation  of the        
judicious and reflecting6 ,if affliction
 shall feel one ray of  comfort1 or     
melancholy1 released from a portion of  
its horrors1 raise its  down cast head2 
if ,i shall convince the lover of rural 

life1 that all  the finer springs of    
pleasure dry up and decay in the intense
 joys of  crowded cities1 and that the  
warmest emotions of the heart become    
there  cold and torpid2 if ,i shall     
evince the superior pleasures of the    
country2  how many resources rural life 
affords against the langors of          
indolence2  what purity of sentiment1   
what peaceful repose1 what exalted      
happiness1  is inspired by verdant      
meads1 and the view of lively flocks    
quitting  their rich pastures to seek1  
with the declining sun1 their evening   
folds3 how highly the romantic scenery  
of a wild and striking country1         
interspersed with cottages1 the         
habitations of a happy1 free1 contented 
race of men1 elevates the soul2 how far 
more interesting to the heart are  the  
joyful occupations of rural industry1   
than the dull and tasteless             
entertainments of a dissipated city2 how
 much more easily1 in short1 the  most  
excruciating sorrows are pleasingly     

subdued on the fragrant border  of a    
peaceful stream1 than in the midst of   
those treacherous delights  which occupy
 the courts of kings--all my wishes will
 be accomplished1 and  my happiness     
complete4    ,retirement from the world 
may prove peculiarly beneficial at two  
periods  of life3 in youth1 to acquire  
the rudiments of useful information1 to 
lay  the foundation of the character    
intended to be pursued1 and to obtain   
that train of thought which is to guide 
us through life2 in age1 to  cast a     
retrospective view on the course we have
 run2 to reflect on the  events we have 
observed1 the vicissitudes we have      
experienced3 to enjoy  the flowers we   
have gathered on the way1 and to        
congratulate ourselves  upon the        
tempests we have survived4 ,lord        
,bolingbroke1 in his 8,idea of a        
,patriot ,king10 says1 there is not a   
more profound nor a finer observation   
in all lord ,bacon's works1 than the    
following3 8,we must choose betimes     

such virtuous objects as are            
proportioned to the means we have of    
pursuing them1 and belong particularly  
to the stations we are in1 and the      
duties of those stations4 ,we must      
determine and fix our minds in such     
manner upon them1 that the pursuit of   
them may become the business1 and  the  
attainment of them the end of our whole 
lives4 ,thus we shall imitate  the great
 operations of nature1 and not the      
feeble1 slow1 and imperfect  operations 
of art4 ,we must not proceed in forming 
the moral character1 as  a statuary     
proceeds in forming a statue1 who works 
sometimes on the face1  sometimes on one
 part1 and sometimes on an other2 but we
 must proceed1  and it is in our power  
to proceed1 as nature does in forming a 
flower1 or  any other of her            
productions2 rudimenta partium omnium   
simul parit et  producit3 she throws out
 altogether1 and at once1 the whole     
system of  every being1 and the         
rudiments of all the parts40    ,it is1 

therefore1 more especially to those     
youthful minds1 who still  remain       
susceptible of virtuous impressions1    
that ,i here pretend to point  out the  
path which leads to true felicity4 ,and 
if you acknowledge that  ,i have        
enlightened your mind1 corrected your   
manners1 and tranquillized  your heart1 
,i shall congratulate myself on the     
success of my design1 and  think my     
labors richly rewarded4    ,believe me1 
all ye amiable youths1 from whose minds 
the artifices  and gayeties of the world
 have not yet obliterated the precepts  
of a  virtuous education2 who are yet   
uninfected with its inglorious vanities2
  who1 still ignorant of the tricks and 
blandishments of seduction1 have        
preserved the desire to perform some    
glorious action1 and retained the  power
 to accomplish it2 who1 in the midst of 
feasting1 dancing1 and  assemblies1 feel
 an inclination to escape from their    
unsatisfactory  delights2 solitude will 
afford you a safe asylum4 ,let the voice

 of  experience recommend you to        
cultivate a fondness for domestic       
pleasures1  to incite and fortify your  
souls to noble deeds1 to acquire that   
cool  judgment and intrepid spirit which
 enables you to form correct estimates  
of the characters of mankind1 and of the
 pleasures of society4 ,but to          
accomplish this high end1 you must turn 
your eyes from those trifling and       
insignificant examples which a          
degenerated race of men affords1 and    
study  the illustrious characters of the
 ancient ,greeks1 the ,romans1 and the  
,modern ,english4 ,in what nation will  
you find more celebrated instances of   
human greatness8 ,what people possesses 
more valor1 courage1 firmness1 and      
knowledge2 where do the arts and        
sciences shine with greater splendor1 or
  with more useful effect8 ,but do not  
deceive yourselves by a belief that  you
 will acquire the character of an       
,englishman by wearing a cropped head   
of hair2 no1 you must pluck the roots of

 vice from your mind1 destroy  the seeds
 of weakness in your bosoms1 and imitate
 the great examples of  heroic virtue   
which that nation so frequently affords4
 ,it is an ardent  love of liberty1     
undaunted courage1 deep penetration1    
elevated sentiment1  and well cultivated
 understanding1 that constitute the     
,british character2  and not their      
cropped heads1 half-boots1 and round    
hats4 ,it is virtue  alone1 and not     
dress or titles1 that can ennoble or    
adorn the human  character4 ,dress is an
 object too minute and trifling wholly  
to occupy  a rational mind2 and an      
illustrious descent is only advantageous
 as it  renders the real merits of its  
immediate possessor more conspicuous4   
,never1 however1 lose sight of this     
important truth1 that no one can be     
truly great until he has gained a       
knowledge of himself3 a knowledge  which
 can only be acquired by occasional     
retirement4          ,,chapter ,,ii4    
,the influence of solitude upon the     

mind4      ,the true value of liberty   
can only be conceived by minds that are 
free3  slaves remain indolently         
contented in captivity4 ,men who have   
been long  tossed upon the troubled     
ocean of life1 and have learned by      
severe  experience to entertain just    
notions of the world and its concerns1  
to  examine every object with unclouded 
and impartial eyes1 to walk erect in    
the strict and thorny paths of virtue1  
and to find their happiness in the      
reflections of an honest mind1 alone are
 free4    ,the path of virtue1 indeed1  
is devious1 dark and dreary2 but though 
it  leads the traveller over hills of   
difficulty1 it at length brings him     
into the delightful and extensive plains
 of permanent happiness and  secure     
repose4    ,the love of solitude1 when  
cultivated in the morn of life1 elevates
  the mind to a noble independence2 but 
to acquire the advantage which  solitude
 is capable of affording1 the mind must 
not be impelled to it by  melancholy and

 discontent1 but by a real distaste to  
the idle pleasures  of the world1 a     
rational contempt for the deceitful joys
 of life1 and  just apprehensions of    
being corrupted and seduced by its      
insinuating and  destructive gayeties4  
,many men have acquired and exercised in
 solitude that transcendent  greatness  
of mind which defies events2 and1 like  
the majestic cedar1  which braves the   
fury of the most violent tempest1 have  
resisted1 with  heroic courage1 the     
severest storms of fate4    ,solitude1  
indeed1 sometimes renders the mind in a 
slight degree arrogant  and conceited2  
but these effects are easily removed by 
a judicious  intercourse with mankind4  
,misanthropy1 contempt of folly1 and    
pride of  spirit1 are1 in noble minds1  
changed by the maturity of age into     
dignity  of character2 and that fear of 
the opinion of the world which awed the 
weakness and inexperience of youth1 is  
succeeded by firmness1 and a high       
disdain of those false notions by which 

it was dismayed3 the observations  once 
so dreadful lose all their stings2 the  
mind views objects not as  they are1 but
 as they ought to be2 and1 feeling a    
contempt for vice1  rises into a noble  
enthusiasm for virtue1 gaining from the 
conflict a  rational experience and a   
compassionate feeling which never decay4
    ,the science of the heart1 indeed1  
with which youth should be familiarized 
as early as possible1 is too frequently 
neglected4 ,it removes the  asperities  
and polishes the rough surfaces of the  
mind4 ,this science  is founded on that 
noble philosophy which regulates the    
characters of  men2 and operating more  
by love than by rigid precept1 corrects 
the cold  dictates of reason by the warm
 feelings of the heart2 opens to view   
the  dangers to which they are exposed2 
animates the dormant faculties of the   
mind1 and prompts them to the practice  
of all the virtues4    ,dion was        
educated in all the turpitude and       
servility of courts1  accustomed to a   

life of softness and effeminacy1 and1   
what is still  worse1 tainted by        
ostentation1 luxury1 and every species  
of vicious  pleasure2 but no sooner did 
he listen to the divine ,plato1 and     
acquire  thereby a taste for that       
sublime philosophy which inculcates the 
practice  of virtue1 than his whole soul
 became deeply enamored of its charms4  
,the  same love of virtue with which    
,plato inspired the mind of ,dion1 may  
be  silently1 and almost imperceptibly  
infused by every tender mother into  the
 mind of her child4 ,philosophy1 from   
the lips of a wise and sensible  woman1 
glides quietly1 but with strong effect1 
into the mind through the  feelings of  
the heart4 ,who is not fond of walking1 
even through the most  rough and        
difficult paths1 when conducted by the  
hand of love8 ,what  species of         
instruction can be more successful than 
soft lessons from a  female tongue1     
dictated by a mind profound in          
understanding1 and elevated  in         

sentiment1 where the heart feels all the
 affection that her precepts  inspire8  
,oh6 may every mother1 so endowed1 be   
blessed with a child who  delights to   
listen in private to her edifying       
observations2 who1 with a  book in his  
hand1 loves to seek among the rocks some
 sequestered spot  favorable to study2  
who when walking with his dogs and gun1 
frequently  reclines under the friendly 
shade of some majestic tree1 and        
contemplates  the great and glorious    
characters which the pages of ,plutarch 
present  to his view1 instead of toiling
 through the thickest of the surrounding
  woods hunting for game4    ,the wishes
 of a mother are accomplished when the  
silence and solitude of  the forests    
seize and animate the mind of her loved 
child2 when he begins  to feel that he  
has seen sufficiently the pleasures of  
the world2 when  he begins to perceive  
that there are greater and more valued  
characters  than noblemen or esquires1  
than ministers or kings2 characters who 

enjoy  a more elevated sense of pleasure
 than gaming tables and assemblies are  
capable of affording2 who seek1 at every
 interval of leisure1 the shades  of    
solitude with rapturous delight2 whose  
minds have been inspired with  a love of
 literature and philosophy from their   
earliest infancy2 whose  bosoms have    
glowed with a love of science through   
every subsequent period  of their lives2
 and who1 amidst the greatest           
calamities1 are capable of  banishing1  
by a secret charm1 the deepest          
melancholy and most profound  dejection4
    ,the advantages of solitude to a    
mind that feels a real disgust at the   
tiresome intercourses of society1 are   
inconceivable4 ,freed from the  world1  
the veil which obscured the intellect   
suddenly falls1 the clouds  which dimmed
 the light of reason disappear1 the     
painful burden which  oppressed the soul
 is alleviated2 we no longer wrestle    
with surrounding  perils2 the           
apprehension of danger vanishes2 the    

sense of misfortune  becomes softened2  
the dispensations of ,providence no     
longer excite the  murmur of discontent2
 and we enjoy the delightful pleasures  
of a calm1  serene and happy mind4      
,patience and resignation follow and    
reside with a  contented heart2 every   
corroding care flies away on the wings  
of gayety2  and on every side agreeable 
and interesting scenes present          
themselves  to our view2 the brilliant  
sun sinking behind the lofty mountains  
tinging their snow-crowned turrets with 
golden rays2 the feathered  choir       
hastening to seek within their mossy    
cells a soft1 a silent1 and  secure     
repose2 the shrill crowing of the       
amorous cock2 the solemn and  stately   
march of oxen returning from their daily
 toil1 and the graceful  paces of the   
generous steed4 ,but1 amidst the vicious
 pleasures of a  great metropolis1 where
 sense and truth are constantly         
despised1 and  integrity and conscience 
thrown aside as inconvenient and        

oppressive1 the  fairest forms of fancy 
are obscured1 and the purest virtues of 
the heart  corrupted4    ,but the first 
and most incontestable advantage of     
solitude is1 that  it accustoms the mind
 to think2 the imagination becomes more 
vivid1  and the memory more faithful1   
while the sense remains undisturbed1 and
  no external object agitates the soul4 
,removed far from the tiresome  tumults 
of public society1 where a multitude of 
heterogeneous objects  dance before our 
eyes and fill the mind with incoherent  
notions1 we  learn to fix our attention 
to a single subject1 and to contemplate 
that  alone4 ,an author1 whose works ,i 
could read with pleasure every hour of  
my life1 says1 8,it is the power of     
attention which1 in a great measure     
distinguishes the wise and great from   
the vulgar and trifling herd of  men4   
,the latter are accustomed to think1 or 
rather to dream1 without  knowing the   
subject of their thoughts4 ,in their    
unconnected rovings  they pursue no end1

 they follow no track4 ,every thing     
floats loose and  disjointed on the     
surface of their minds1 like leaves     
scattered and blown  about on the face  
of the waters40    ,the habit of        
thinking with steadiness and attention  
can only be acquired  by avoiding the   
distraction which a multiplicity of     
objects always  create2 by turning our  
observation from external things1 and   
seeking a  situation in which our daily 
occupations are not perpetually shifting
  their course1 and changing their      
direction4    ,idleness and inattention 
soon destroy all the advantages of      
retirement2  for the most dangerous     
passions1 when the mind is not properly 
employed1  rise into fermentation1 and  
produce a variety of eccentric ideas and
  irregular desires4 ,it is necessary1  
also1 to elevate our thoughts  above the
 mean consideration of sensual objects2 
the unincumbered mind  then recalls all 
that it has read2 all that has pleased  
the eye or  delighted the ear2 and      

reflecting on every idea which either   
observation1  experience1 or discourse1 
has produced1 gains new information by  
every  reflection1 and conveys the      
purest pleasures to the soul4 ,the      
intellect  contemplates all the former  
scenes of life2 views by anticipation   
those  that are yet to come1 and blends 
all ideas of past and future in the     
actual enjoyment of the present moment4 
,to keep1 however1 the mental  powers in
 proper tone1 it is necessary to direct 
our attention invariably  toward some   
noble and interesting study4    ,it may1
 perhaps1 excite a smile1 when ,i       
assert1 that solitude is the only       
school in which the characters of men   
can be properly developed2 but it  must 
be recollected1 that1 although the      
materials of this study must be  amassed
 in society1 it is in solitude alone    
that we can apply them to  their proper 
use4 ,the world is the great scene of   
our observations2 but  to apply them    
with propriety to their respective      

objects is exclusively  the work of     
solitude4 ,it is admitted that a        
knowledge of the nature of  man is      
necessary to our happiness2 and         
therefore ,i cannot conceive how  it is 
possible to call those characters       
malignant and misanthropic1 who  while  
they continue in the world1 endeavor to 
discover even the faults1  foibles and  
imperfections of human kind4 ,the       
pursuit of this species of  knowledge1  
which can only be gained by observation1
 is surely laudable1  and not deserving 
the obloquy that has been cast on it4   
,do ,i1 in my  medical character1 feel  
any malignity or hatred to the species1 
when  ,i study the nature1 and explore  
the secret causes of those weaknesses   
and disorders which are incidental to   
the human frame8 ,when ,i examine  the  
subject with the closest inspection1 and
 point out for the general  benefit1 ,i 
hope1 of mankind1 as well as for my own 
satisfaction1 all the  frail and        
imperfect parts in the anatomy of the   

human body8    ,but a difference is     
supposed to exist between the           
observations which  we are permitted to 
make upon the anatomy of the human body1
 and those  which we assume respecting  
the philosophy of the mind4 ,the        
physician1  it is said1 studies the     
maladies which are incidental to the    
human  frame1 to apply such remedies as 
particular occasion may require3 but  it
 is contended1 that the moralist has a  
different end in view4 ,this            
distinction1 however1 is certainly      
without foundation4 ,a sensible and     
feeling philosopher views both the moral
 and physical defects of his  fellow    
creatures with an equal degree of       
regret4 ,why do moralists shun  mankind1
 by retiring into solitude1 if it be not
 to avoid the contagion  of those vices 
which they perceive so prevalent in the 
world1 and which  are not observed by   
those who are in the habit of seeing    
them daily  indulged without censure or 
restraint8 ,the mind1 without doubt     

feels a  considerable degree of pleasure
 in detecting the imperfections of human
  nature2 and where that detection may  
prove beneficial to mankind1 without    
doing an injury to any individual1 to   
publish them to the world1 to point  out
 their qualities1 to place them1 by a   
luminous description before the  eyes of
 men1 is in my idea1 a pleasure so far  
from being mischievous1  that ,i rather 
think1 and ,i trust ,i shall continue to
 think so even in the  hour of death1 it
 is the only real mode of discovering   
the machinations  of the devil1 and     
destroying the effects of his work4     
,solitude1  therefore1 as it tends to   
excite a disposition to think with      
effect1 to  direct the attention to     
proper objects1 to strengthen           
observation1 and to  increase the       
natural sagacity of the mind1 is the    
school in which a true  knowledge of the
 human character is most likely to be   
acquired4    ,bonnet1 in an affecting   
passage of the preface to his celebrated

 work on  the ,nature of the ,soul1     
relates the manner in which solitude    
rendered  even his defect of sight      
advantageous to him4 8,solitude10 says  
he1  8necessarily leads the mind to     
meditation4 ,the circumstances in which 
,i  have hitherto lived1 joined to the  
sorrows which have attended me for  many
 years1 and from which ,i am not yet    
released1 induced me to seek in         
reflection those comforts which my      
unhappy condition rendered necessary2   
and my mind is now become my constant   
retreat3 from the enjoyments it  affords
 ,i derive pleasures which1 like potent 
charms1 dispel all my  afflictions40 ,at
 this period the virtuous ,bonnet was   
almost blind4  ,another excellent       
character1 of a different kind1 who     
devotes his time to  the education of   
youth1 ,pfeffel1 at ,colmar1 supports   
himself under the  affliction of total  
blindness in a manner equally noble and 
affecting1  by a lifeless solitary      
indeed1 but by the opportunities of     

frequent  leisure which he employs in   
the study of philosophy1 the recreations
  of poetry1 and the exercises of       
humanity4 ,there was formerly in ,japan 
a college of blind persons1 who1 in all 
probability1 were endued with  quicker  
discernment than many members of more   
enlightened colleges4  ,these sightless 
academicians devoted their time to the  
study of history1  poetry1 and music4   
,the most celebrated traits in the      
annals of their  country became the     
subject of their muse2 and the harmony  
of their verses  could only be excelled 
by the melody of their music4 ,in       
reflecting upon  the idleness and       
dissipation in which a number of        
solitary persons pass  their time1 we   
contemplate the conduct of these blind  
,japanese with  the highest pleasure4   
,the mind's eye opened and afforded them
 ample  compensation for the loss of the
 corporeal organ4 ,light1 life1 and joy1
  flowed into their minds through       
surrounding darkness1 and blessed them  

with high enjoyment of tranquil thought 
and innocent occupation4    ,solitude   
teaches us to think1 and thoughts become
 the principal spring  of human actions2
 for the actions of men1 it is truly    
said1 are1  nothing more than their     
thoughts embodied1 and brought into     
substantial  existence4 ,the mind1      
therefore1 has only to examine with     
candor and  impartiality the idea which 
it feels the greatest inclination to    
pursue1  in order to penetrate and      
expound the mystery of the human        
character2  and he who has not been     
accustomed to self-examination1 will    
upon such  a scrutiny1 frequently       
discover truths of extreme importance to
 his  happiness1 which the mists of     
worldly delusion had concealed totally  
from  his view4    ,liberty and leisure 
are all that an active mind requires in 
solitude4  ,the moment such a character 
finds itself alone1 all the energies of 
his soul put themselves into motion1 and
 rise to a height incomparably  greater 

than they could have reached under the  
impulse of a mind clogged  and oppressed
 by the encumbrances of society4 ,even  
plodding authors1  who only endeavor to 
improve the thoughts of others1 and aim 
not at  originality for themselves1     
derive such advantages from solitude1 as
 to  render them contented with their   
humble labors2 but to superior minds1   
how exquisite are the pleasures they    
feel when solitude inspires the idea    
and facilitates the execution of works  
of virtue and public benefit6  works    
which constantly irritate the passions  
of the foolish1 and confound  the guilty
 consciences of the wicked4 ,the        
exuberance of a fine fertile            
imagination is chastened by the         
surrounding tranquility of solitude3 all
  its diverging rays are concentrated to
 one certain point2 and the mind        
exalted to such powerful energy1 that   
whenever it is inclined to strike1  the 
blow becomes tremendous and             
irresistible4 ,conscious of the extent  

and force of his powers1 a character    
thus collected cannot be dismayed  by   
legions of adversaries2 and he waits1   
with judicious circumspection1  to      
render sooner or later1 complete justice
 to the enemies of virtue4  ,the        
profligacy of the world1 where vice     
usurps the seat of greatness1  hypocrisy
 assumes the face of candor1 and        
prejudice overpowers the voice  of      
truth1 must1 indeed1 sting his bosom    
with the keenest sensations  of         
mortification and regret2 but cast his  
philosophic eye over the  disordered    
scene1 he will separate what ought to be
 indulged from what  ought not to be    
endured2 and by a happy1 well-timed     
stroke of satire  from his pen1 will    
destroy the bloom of vice1 disappoint   
machinations of  hipocrisy1 and expose  
the fallacies on which prejudice is     
founded4    ,truth unfolds her charms in
 solitude with superior splendor4 ,a    
great and  good man2 ,dr4 ,blair1 of    
,edinburgh1 says1 8,the great and the   

worthy1 the  pious and the virtuous1    
have ever been addicted to serious      
retirement4  ,it is the characteristic  
of little and frivolous minds to be     
wholly  occupied with the vulgar objects
 of life4 ,these fill up their desires1 
and supply all the entertainment which  
their coarse apprehensions can  relish4 
,but a more refined and enlarged mind   
leaves the world behind it1  feels a    
call for higher pleasures1 and seeks    
them in retreat4 ,the man of  public    
spirit has recourse to it in order to   
reform plans for general  good2 the man 
of genius in order to dwell on his      
favorite themes2 the  philosopher to    
pursue his discoveries2 and the saint to
 improve himself  in grace40    ,numa1  
the legislator of ,rome1 while he was   
only a private individual1  retired on  
the death of ,tatia1 his beloved wife1  
into the deep forests  of ,aricia and   
wandered in solitary musings through the
 thickest groves  and most sequestered  
shades4 ,superstition imputed his lonely

 propensity1  not to disappointment1    
discontent1 or hatred to mankind1 but to
 a higher  cause3 a wish silently to    
communicate with some protecting deity4 
,a rumor  was circulated that the       
goddess ,egeria1 captivated by his      
virtues1 had  united herself to him in  
the sacred bonds of love1 and by        
enlightening  his mind1 and storing it  
with superior wisdom1 had led him to    
divine  felicity4 ,the ,druids also1 who
 dwelt among the rocks1 in the woods1   
and in the most solitary places1 are    
supposed to have instructed the  infant 
nobility of their respective nations in 
wisdom and in eloquence1  in the        
phenomena of nature1 in astronomy1 in   
the precepts of religion1  and the      
mysteries of eternity4 ,the profound    
wisdom thus bestowed on the  characters 
of the ,druids1 although it was1 like   
the story of ,numa1 the  mere effects of
 imagination1 discovers with what       
enthusiasm every age and  country have  
revered those venerable characters who  

in the silence of the  groves1 and in   
the tranquillity of solitude1 have      
devoted their time and  talents to the  
improvement of the human mind1 and the  
reformation of the  species4    ,genius 
frequently brings forth its finest fruit
 in solitude1 merely by  the exertion of
 its own intrinsic powers1 unaided by   
the patronage of the  great1 the        
adulation of the multitude1 or the hope 
of mercenary reward4  ,flanders1 amidst 
all the horrors of civil discord1       
produced painters as  rich in fame as   
they were poor in circumstances4 ,the   
celebrated ,correggio  had so seldom    
been rewarded during his life1 that the 
paltry payment of  ten pistoles of      
,german coin1 and which he was obliged  
to travel as far  as ,parma1 to receive1
 created in his mind a joy so excessive1
 that it  caused his death4 ,the        
self-approbation of conscious merit was 
the only  recompense these great artists
 received2 they painted with the hope of
  immortal fame2 and posterity has done 

them justice4    ,profound meditation in
 solitude and silence frequently exalts 
the mind  above its natural tone1 fires 
the imagination1 and produces the most  
refined and sublime conceptions4 ,the   
soul then tastes the purest and  most   
refined delight1 and almost loses the   
idea of existence in the  intellectual  
pleasure it receives4 ,the mind on every
 motion darts through  space into       
eternity2 and raised1 in his free       
enjoyment of its powers by  its own     
enthusiasm1 strengthens itself in the   
habitude of contemplating  the noblest  
subjects1 and of adopting the most      
heroic pursuits4 ,it was in  a solitary 
retreat1 amidst the shades of a lofty   
mountain near ,byrmont1  that the       
foundation of one of the most           
extraordinary achievements of  the      
present age was laid4 ,the king of      
,prussia1 while on a visit to ,spa1     
withdrew himself from the company1 and  
walked in silent solitude amongst  the  
most sequestered groves of this         

beautiful mountain1 then adorned in  all
 the rude luxuriance of nature1 and to  
this day distinguished by the           
appellation of 8,the ,royal             
,mountain04#d ,on this uninhabited spot1
 since  become the seat of dissipation1 
the youthful monarch1 it is said first  
formed the plan of conquering ,silesia4 
,solitude teaches with the happiest     
effect the important value of time1  of 
which the indolent1 having no           
conception1 can form no estimate4 ,a man
  who is ardently bent on employment1   
who is anxious not to live entirely  in 
vain1 never observes the rapid movements
 of a stop watch1 the true  image of    
transitory life1 and most striking      
emblem of the flight of time1  without  
alarm and apprehension4 ,social         
intercourse1 when it tends to  keep the 
mind and heart in a proper tone1 when it
 contributes to enlarge  the sphere of  
knowledge1 or to banish corroding care1 
cannot1 indeed1  be considered a        
sacrifice of time4 ,but where social    

intercourse1 even  when attended with   
these happy effects engages all our     
attention1 turns  the calmness of       
friendship into violence of love1       
transforms hours into  minutes1 and     
drives away all ideas1 except those     
which the object of  our affection      
inspires1 year after year will roll     
unimproved away4 ,time  properly        
employed never appears tedious2 on the  
contrary1 to him who is  engaged in     
usefully discharging the duties of his  
station1 according to  the best of his  
ability1 it is light1 and pleasantly    
transitory4    ,a certain young prince1 
by the assistance of a number of        
domestics1  seldom employs above five or
 six minutes in dressing4 ,of his       
carriage  it would be incorrect to say  
he goes in it2 for it flies4 ,his table 
is superb and hospitable1 but the       
pleasures of it are short and frugal4   
,princes1 indeed1 seem disposed to do   
every thing with rapidity4 ,this  royal 
youth who possesses extraordinary       

talents1 and uncommon dignity of        
character1 attends in his own person to 
every application1 and affords          
satisfaction and delight in every       
interview4 ,his domestic establishment  
engages his most scrupulous attention2  
and he employs seven hours every  day   
without exception1 throughout the year1 
in reading the best ,english1  ,italian1
 ,french1 and ,german authors4 ,it may  
therefore be truly said1 that  this     
prince is well acquainted with the value
 of time4    ,the hours which a man of  
the world throws idly away1 are in      
solitude  disposed of with profitable   
pleasure2 and no pleasure can be more   
profitable than that which results from 
the judicious use of time4 ,men  have   
many duties to perform3 he1 therefore1  
who wishes to discharge them  honorably1
 will vigilantly seize the earliest     
opportunity1 if he does not  wish that  
any part of the passing moments should  
be torn like a useless  page from the   
book of life4 ,useful employment stops  

the career of time1  and prolongs our   
existence4 ,to think and to work1 is to 
live4 ,our ideas  never flow with more  
rapidity and abundance1 or with greater 
gayety1 than  in those hours which      
useful labor steals from idleness and   
dissipation4  ,to employ our time with  
economy1 we should frequently reflect   
how many  hours escape from us against  
our inclination4 ,a celebrated ,english 
author  says1 8,when we have deducted   
all that is absorbed in sleep1 all that 
is inevitably appropriated to the       
demands of nature1 or irresistably      
engrossed by the tyranny of custom2 all 
that is passed in regulating the        
superficial decorations of life1 or is  
given up in the reciprocation  of       
civility to the disposal of others2 all 
that is torn from us by the  violence of
 disease1 or stolen imperceptibility    
away by lassitude and  langor2 we shall 
find that part of our duration very     
small of which we  can truly call       
ourselves masters1 or which we can spend

 wholly at our own  choice4 ,many of our
 hours are lost in a rotation of petty  
cares1 in a  constant recurrence of the 
same employments1 many of our provisions
 for  ease or happiness are always      
exhausted by the present day1 and a     
great  part of our existence serves no  
other purpose than that of enabling us  
to  enjoy the rest40    ,time is never  
more misspent than while we declaim     
against the want of it2  all our actions
 are then tinctured with peevishness4   
,the yoke of life is  certainly the     
least oppressive when we carry it with  
good humor2 and in  the shades of rural 
retirement1 when we have once acquired a
 resolution  to pass our hours with     
economy1 sorrowful lamentations on the  
subject of  time misspent1 and business 
neglected1 never torture the mind4      
,solitude1 indeed1 may prove more       
dangerous than all the dissipation of   
the world1 if the mind be not properly  
employed4 ,every man1 from the  monarch 
on the throne to the peasant in the     

cottage1 should have a daily  task1     
which he should feel it his duty to     
perform without delay4 8,carpe  diem10  
says ,horace2 and this recommendation   
will extend with equal  propriety to    
every hour of our lives4    ,the        
voluptuous of every description1 the    
votaries of ,bacchus and the sons  of   
,anacreon1 exhort us to drive away      
corroding care1 to promote incessant    
gaiety1 and to enjoy the fleeting hours 
as they pass2 and these precepts1  when 
rightly understood1 and properly        
applied1 are founded in strong  sense   
and sound reason2 but they must not be  
understood or applied in the  way these 
sensualists advise2 they must not be    
consumed in drinking and  debauchery2   
but employed in steadily advancing      
toward the accomplishment  of the task  
which our respective duties require us  
to perform4 8,if10  says ,petrarch1 8you
 feel any inclination to serve ,god1 in 
which consists  the highest felicities  
of our nature2 if you are disposed to   

elevate the  mind by the study of       
letters1 which1 next to religion1       
procures us the  truest pleasures2 if by
 your sentiments and writings1 you are  
anxious to  leave behind you something  
that will memorize your name with       
posterity2  stop the rapid progress of  
time1 and prolong the course of this    
uncertain  life--fly1 ah2 fly1 ,i       
beseech you1 from the enjoyment of the  
world1 and  pass the few remaining days 
you have to live in ''' ,solitude40     
,solitude refines the taste1 by         
affording the mind greater opportunities
  to call and select the beauties of    
those objects which engage its          
attention4 ,there it depends entirely   
upon ourselves to make choice of  those 
employments which afford the highest    
pleasure2 to read those  writings1 and  
to encourage those reflections which    
tend mostly to purify  the mind1 and    
store it with the richest variety of    
images4 ,the false  notions which we so 
easily acquire in the world1 by relying 

upon the  sentiments of others1 instead 
of consulting our own1 are in solitude  
easily avoided4 ,to be obliged          
constantly to say1 8,i dare not think   
otherwise10 is insupportable4 ,why1     
alas6 will not men strive to form       
opinions of their own1 rather than      
submit to be guided by the arbitrary    
dictates of others8 ,if a work please   
me1 of what importance is it to me      
whether the beau monde approve of it or 
not8--,what information do ,i  receive  
from you1 ye cold and miserable         
critics8--,does your approbation  make  
me feel whatever is truly noble1 great  
and good1 with higher relish  or more   
refined delight8--,how can ,i submit to 
the judgment of men who  always examine 
hastily1 and generally determine wrong8 
,men of enlightened minds1 who are      
capable of correctly distinguishing     
beauties from defects1 whose bosoms feel
 the highest pleasure from the  works of
 genius1 and the severest pain from     
dullness and depravity1 while  they     

admire with enthusiasm1 condemn with    
judgment and deliberation2 and1         
retiring from the vulgar herd1 either   
alone or in the society of selected     
friends1 resign themselves to the       
delights of a tranquil intercourse  with
 the illustrious sages of antiquity1 and
 with those writers who have            
distinguished and adorned succeeding    
times4    ,solitude1 by enlarging the   
sphere of its information1 by awakening 
a more  lively curiosity1 by relieving  
fatigue1 and by promoting application1  
renders the mind more active1 and       
multiplies the number of its ideas4 ,a  
man who is well acquainted with all     
these advantages1 has said1 that1 8by   
silent1 solitary reflection1 we exercise
 and strengthen all the powers  of the  
mind4 ,the many obstacles which render  
it difficult to pursue our  path        
disperse and retire1 and we return to a 
busy1 social life1 with  more           
cheerfulness and content4 ,the sphere of
 our understanding becomes  enlarged by 

reflection2 we have learned to survey   
more objects1 and to  behold them more  
intellectually together2 we carry a     
clearer sight1 a  juster judgment1 and  
firmer principles with us into the world
 in which  we are to live and act2 and  
are then more able1 even in the midst of
 all  its distractions1 to preserve our 
attention1 to think with accuracy1 to   
determine with judgment1 in a degree    
proportioned to the preparations we     
have made in the hours of retirement40  
,alas6 in the ordinary commerce  of the 
world1 the curiosity of a rational mind 
soon decays1 whilst in  solitude it     
hourly augments4 ,the researches of a   
finite being necessarily  proceed by    
slow degrees4 ,the mind links one       
proposition to another1  joins          
experience with observation1 and from   
the discovery of one truth  proceeds in 
search of others4 ,the astronomers who  
first observed the  course of the       
planets1 little imagined how important  
their discoveries  would prove to the   

future interests and happiness of       
mankind4 ,attached  by the spangled     
splendor of the firmament1 and observing
 that the stars  nightly changed their  
course1 curiosity induced them to       
explore the  cause of this phenomenon1  
and led them to pursue the road of      
science4  ,it is thus that the soul1 by 
silent activity1 augments its powers2   
and a contemplative mind advances in    
knowledge in proportion as it           
investigates the various causes1 the    
immediate effects1 and the remote       
consequences of an established truth4   
,reason1 indeed1 by impeding the  wings 
of the imagination1 renders her flight  
less rapid1 but it makes  the object of 
attainment more sure4 ,drawn aside by   
the charms of fancy1  the mind may      
construct new worlds2 but they          
immediately burst1 like airy  bubbles   
formed of soap and water2 while reason  
examines the materials of  its projected
 fabric1 and uses those only which are  
durable and good4    8,the great art to 

learn much10 says ,locke1 8is to        
undertake a little at  a time40 ,dr4    
,johnson1 the celebrated ,english       
writer1 has very forcibly  observed1    
that 8all the performances of human art1
 at which we look with  praise or       
wonder1 are instances of the resistless 
force of perseverance3  it is by this   
that the quarry becomes a pyramid1 and  
that distant  countries are united by   
canals4 ,if a man was to compare the    
effect of a  single stroke with the     
pick-axe1 or of one impression of a     
spade1 with  the general design and last
 result1 he would be overwhelmed with   
the  sense of their disproportion2 yet  
those petty operations1 incessantly     
continued1 in time surmount the greatest
 difficulties2 and mountains are        
levelled1 and oceans bounded by the     
slender force of human beings4 ,it  is  
therefore of the utmost importance that 
those who have any intention  of        
deviating from the beaten roads of life1
 and acquiring a reputation  superior to

 names hourly swept away by time among  
the refuse of fame1  should add to their
 reason and their spirit the power of   
persisting in  their purposes2 acquire  
the art of sapping what they cannot     
batter2 and  the habit of vanquishing   
obstinate resistance by obstinate       
attacks40    ,it is activity of mind    
that gives life to the most dreary      
desert1  converts the solitary cell into
 a social world1 gives immortal fame  to
 genius1 and produces master-pieces of  
ingenuity to the artist4 ,the  mind     
feels a pleasure in the exercise of its 
powers proportioned to the  difficulties
 it meets with1 and the obstacles it has
 to surmount4 ,when  ,apelles was       
reproached for having painted so few    
pictures1 and for the  incessant anxiety
 with which he retouched his works1 he  
contented himself  with this            
observation1 8,i paint for posterity40  
,the inactivity of monastic solitude1   
the sterile tranquillity of the         
cloister1 are ill suited to those who1  

after a serious preparation in          
retirement1 and an assiduous examination
 of their own powers1 feel a  capacity  
and inclination to perform great and    
good actions for the  benefit of        
mankind4 ,princes cannot live the lives 
of monks2 statesmen  are no longer      
sought for in monasteries and convents2 
generals are no  longer chosen from the 
members of the church4 ,petrarch1       
therefore1  very pertinently observes1  
8that solitude must not be inactive1 nor
  leisure uselessly employed4 ,a        
character indolent1 slothful1 languid1  
and  detached from the affairs of life1 
must infallibly become melancholy and   
miserable4 ,from such a being no good   
can be expected2 he cannot pursue  any  
useful science1 or possess the faculties
 of a great man40    ,the rich and      
luxurious may claim an exclusive right  
to those pleasures  which are capable of
 being purchased by pelf1 in which the  
mind has  no enjoyment1 and which only  
afford a temporary relief to langor1 by 

steeping the senses in forgetfulness2   
but in the precious pleasures  of       
intellect1 so easily accessible by all  
mankind1 the great have no  exclusive   
privilege2 for such enjoyments are only 
to be procured by our  own industry1 by 
serious reflection1 profound thought1   
and deep research2  exertions which open
 hidden qualities to the mind1 and lead 
it to the  knowledge of truth1 and to   
the contemplation of our physical and   
moral  nature4    ,a ,swiss preacher has
 in a ,german pulpit said1 8,the streams
 of mental  pleasures1 of which all men 
may equally partake1 flow from one to   
the  other2 and that of which we have   
most frequently tasted1 loses neither   
its flavor nor its virtues1 but         
frequently acquires new charms1 and     
conveys additional pleasure the oftener 
it is tasted4 ,the subjects of  these   
pleasures are as unbounded as the reign 
of truth1 as extensive as  the world1 as
 unlimited as the divine perfections4   
,incorporeal pleasures1  therefore1 are 

much more durable than all others2 they 
neither disappear  with the light of the
 day1 change with the external form of  
things1 nor  descend with our bodies to 
the tomb2 but continue with us while we 
exist2  accompany us under all the      
vicissitudes not only of our natural    
life1 but  of that which is to come2    
secure us in the darkness of the night1 
and  compensate for all the miseries we 
are doomed to suffer40    ,great and    
exalted minds1 therefore1 have always1  
even in the bustle of  gaiety1 or amidst
 the more agitated career of high       
ambition1 preserved  a taste for        
intellectual pleasures4 ,engaged in     
affairs of the most  important          
consequence1 notwithstanding the variety
 of objects by which  their attention   
was distracted1 they were still faithful
 to the muses1  and fondly devoted their
 minds to works of genius4 ,they        
disregarded the  false notion1 that     
reading and knowledge are useless to    
great men2 and  frequently condescended1

 without a blush1 to become writers     
themselves4    ,philip of ,macedon1     
having invited ,dionysius the younger to
 dine with him  at ,corinth1 attempted  
to deride the father of his royal guest1
 because  he had blended the characters 
of prince and poet1 and had employed his
  leisure in writing odes and tragedies4
 8,how could the king find leisure10    
said ,philip1 8to write those trifles80 
8,in those hours10 answered  ,dionysius1
 8which you and ,i spend in drunkenness 
and debauchery40    ,alexander who was  
passionately fond of reading and whilst 
the world  resounded with his victories1
 whilst blood and carnage marked his    
progress1 whilst he dragged captive     
monarchs at his chariot wheels1 and     
marched with increasing ardor over      
smoking towns and desolated provinces   
in search of new objects of victory1    
felt during certain intervals1  the     
langors of unemployed time2 and         
lamenting that ,asia afforded no  books 
to amuse his leisure1 he wrote to       

,harpalus to send him the works  of     
,philistus1 the tragedies of ,euripides1
 ,sophocles1 schylus1 and the           
dithyrambics of ,thalestes4    ,brutus1 
the avenger of the violated liberties of
 ,rome1 while serving in  the army under
 ,pompey1 employed among books all the  
moments he could  spare from the duties 
of his station2 and was even thus       
employed during  the awful night which  
preceded the celebrated battle of       
,pharsalia1 by  which the fate of the   
empire was decided4 ,oppressed by the   
excessive  heat of the day1 and by the  
preparatory arrangement of the army1    
which  was encamped in the middle of    
summer on a marshy plain1 he sought     
relief  from the bath1 and retired to   
his tent1 where1 whilst others were     
locked  in the arms of sleep1 or        
contemplating the event of the ensuing  
day1 he  employed himself until the     
morning dawned1 in drawing a plan from  
the  ,history of ,polybius4    ,cicero1 
who was more sensible of mental         

pleasures than any other  character1    
says1 in his oration for the poet       
,archias1 8,why should ,i be  ashamed to
 acknowledge pleasures like these1 since
 for so many years the  enjoyment of    
them has never prevented me from        
relieving the wants of  others1 or      
deprived me of the courage to attack    
vice and defend virtue8  ,who can justly
 blame1 who can censure me1 if1 while   
others are pursuing  the views of       
interest1 gazing at festal shows and    
idle ceremonies1  exploring new         
pleasures1 engaged in midnight revels1  
in the distraction  of gaming1 the      
madness of intemperance1 neither        
reposing the body1 nor  recreating the  
mind1 ,i spend the recollective hours in
 a pleasing review  of my past life1 in 
dedicating my time to learning and the  
muses80    ,pliny the elder1 full of the
 same spirit devoted every moment of his
  life to learning4 ,a person read to   
him during his meals2 and he never      
travelled without a book and a portable 

writing-desk by his side4 ,he made      
extracts from every work he read2 and   
scarcely conceiving himself alive  while
 his faculties were absorbed in sleep1  
endeavored by his diligence1  to double 
the duration of his existence4    ,pliny
 the younger1 read upon all occasions1  
whether riding1 walking1 or  sitting1   
whenever a moment's leisure afforded him
 the opportunity2 but  he made it an    
invariable rule to prefer the discharge 
of the duties of  his station to those  
occupations which he followed only as   
amusement4  ,it was this disposition    
which so strongly inclined him to       
solitude and  retirement4 8,shall ,i    
never10 exclaimed he in moments of      
vexation1 8break  the fetters by which  
,i am restrained8 ,are they             
indissoluble8 ,alas6 ,i have  no hope of
 being gratified--every day brings new  
torments4 ,no sooner is  one duty       
performed than another succeeds4 ,the   
chains of business become  every hour   
more weighty and extensive40    ,the    

mind of ,petrarch was always gloomy and 
dejected1 except when he was  reading1  
writing1 or resigned to the agreeable   
illusions of poetry1  upon the banks of 
some inspiring stream1 among the        
romantic rocks and  mountains1 or the   
flower-enamelled vallies of the ,alps4  
,to avoid the  loss of time during his  
travels1 he constantly wrote at every   
inn where  he stopped for refreshment4  
,one of his friends1 the bishop of      
,cavaillon1  being alarmed lest the     
intense application with which he       
studied at  ,vaucluse might totally ruin
 a constitution already much impaired1  
requested of him one day the key of his 
library4 ,petrarch immediately  gave it 
him without asking the reason of his    
request2 when the good  bishop1         
instantly locking up his books and      
writing-desk1 said1 8,petrarch1  ,i     
hereby interdict you from the use of    
pen1 ink1 and paper1 for the space  of  
ten days40 ,the sentence was severe2 but
 the offender suppressed his  feelings1 

and submitted to his fate4 ,the first   
day of his exile from his  favorite     
pursuits was tedious1 the second        
accompanied with incessant  headache1   
and the third brought on symptoms of an 
approaching fever4 ,the  bishop1        
observing his indisposition1 kindly     
returned him the key1 and  restored him 
to his health4    ,the late earl of     
,chatham1 on his entering into the      
world1 was a cornet in  a troop of horse
 dragoons4 ,the regiment was quartered  
in a small village  in ,england4 ,the   
duties of his station were the first    
objects of his  attention2 but the      
moment these were discharged1 he retired
 into solitude  during the remainder of 
the day1 and devoted his mind to the    
study of  history4 ,subject from his    
infancy to an hereditary gout1 he       
endeavored  to eradicate it by          
regularity and abstinence2 and perhaps  
it was the  feeble state of his health  
which first led him into retirement2    
but1  however that may be1 it was       

certainly in retirement that he had laid
 the  foundation of that glory which he 
afterwards acquired4 ,characters of this
  description1 it may be said1 are no   
longer to be found2 but in my opinion   
both the idea and assertion would be    
erroneous4 ,was the earl of ,chatham    
inferior in greatness to a ,roman8 ,and 
will his son1 who already1 in the       
earliest stage of manhood1 thunders     
forth his eloquence in the senate1  like
 ,demosthenes1 and captivates like      
,pericles the hearts of all who hear    
him3 who is now1 even in the            
five-and-twentieth year of his age1     
dreaded  abroad1 and beloved at home1 as
 prime minister of the ,british empire2 
ever think1 or act under any            
circumstances with less greatness1 than 
his illustrious father8 ,what men have  
been1 man may always be4 ,europe  now   
produces characters as great as ever    
adorned a throne or commanded  a field4 
,wisdom and virtue may exist1 by proper 
cultivation1 as well in  public as in   

private life2 and become as perfect in a
 crowded palace as  in a solitary       
cottage4    ,solitude will ultimately   
render the mind superior to all the     
vicissitudes  and miseries of life4 ,the
 man whose bosom neither riches1 nor    
luxury1  nor grandeur can render happy1 
may1 with a book in his hand1 forget all
  his torments under the friendly shade 
of every tree1 and experience  pleasures
 as infinite as they are varied1 as pure
 as they are lasting1  as lively as they
 are unfading1 and as compatible with   
every public  duty as they are          
contributary to private happiness4 ,the 
highest public  duty1 indeed1 is that of
 employing our faculties for the benefit
 of  mankind1 and can no where be so    
advantageously discharged as in         
solitude4  ,to acquire a true notion of 
men and things1 and boldly to announce  
our opinions to the world1 is an        
indispensible obligation on every       
individual4 ,the press is the channel   
through which writers diffuse  the light

 of truth among the people1 and display 
its radiance to the  eyes of the great4 
,good writers inspire the mind with     
courage to think  for itself2 and the   
free communication of sentiments        
contributes to the  improvement and     
imperfection of human reason4 ,it is    
this love of liberty  that leads men    
into solitude1 where they may throw off 
the chains by  which they are fettered  
in the world4 ,it is this disposition to
 be free1  that makes the man who thinks
 in solitude1 boldly speak a language   
which1  in the corrupted intercourse of 
society1 he would not have dared openly 
to hazard4 ,courage is the companion of 
solitude4 ,the man who does not  fear to
 seek his comforts in the peaceful      
shades of retirement1 looks  with       
firmness on the pride and insolence of  
the great1 and tears from  the face of  
despotism the mask by which it is       
concealed4    ,his mind1 enriched by    
knowledge1 may defy the frowns of       
fortune1 and see  unmoved the various   

vicissitudes of life4 ,when ,demetrius  
had captured the  city of ,megara1 and  
the property of the inhabitants had been
 entirely  pillaged by the soldiers1 he 
recollected that ,stilpo1 a philosopher 
of  great reputation1 who sought only   
the retirement and tranquility of a     
studious life1 was among the number4    
,having sent for him1 ,demetrius  asked 
him if he had lost any thing during the 
pillage8 8,no10 replied the             
philosopher1 8my property is safe1 for  
it exists only in my mind40    ,solitude
 encourages the disclosure of those     
sentiments and feelings which  the      
manners of the world compel us to       
conceal4 ,the mind there unburthens     
itself with ease and freedom4 ,the pen1 
indeed1 is not always taken up  because 
we are alone2 but if we are inclined to 
write1 we ought to be  alone4 ,to       
cultivate philosophy1 or court the muse 
with effect1 the mind  must be free from
 all embarrassment4 ,the incessant cries
 of children1 or  the frequent intrusion

 of servants with messages of ceremony  
and cards  of compliment1 distract      
attention4 ,an author1 whether walking  
in the  open air1 seated in his closet1 
reclined under the shade of a spreading 
tree1 or stretched upon a sofa1 must be 
free to follow all the impulses  of his 
mind1 and indulge every bent and turn of
 his genius4 ,to compose  with success1 
he must feel an irresistible            
inclination1 and be able to  indulge his
 sentiments and emotions without        
obstacle or restraint4 ,there  are1     
indeed1 minds possessed of a divine     
inspiration1 which is capable  of       
subduing every difficulty1 and bearing  
down all opposition3 and an  author     
should suspend his work until he feels  
this secret call within his  bosom1 and 
watch for those propitious moments when 
the mind pours forth  its ideas with    
energy1 and the heart feels the subject 
with increasing  warmth2 for            
8''' ,nature's kindling breath          
,must fire the chosen genius2 ,nature's 

hand      ,must string his nerves and   
imp his eagle wings      ,impatient of  
the painful steep1 to soar      ,high as
 the summit2 there to breath at large   
,ethereal air1 with bards and sages old1
      ,immortal sons of praise4'''0     
,petrarch felt this sacred impulse when 
he tore himself from ,avignon1  the most
 vicious and corrupted city of the age1 
to which the pope had  recently         
transferred the papal chair2 and        
although still young1 noble1  ardent1   
honored by his holiness1 respected by   
princes1 courted by  cardinals1 he      
voluntarily quitted the splendid tumults
 of this brilliant  court1 and retired  
to the celebrated solitude of ,vaucluse1
 at the  distance of six leagues from   
,avignon1 with only one servant to      
attend  him1 and no other possession    
than an humble cottage and its          
surrounding  garden4 ,charmed with the  
natural beauties of this rural retreat1 
he  adorned it with an excellent        
library1 and dwelt1 for many years1 in  

wise  tranquillity and rational repose1 
employing his leisure in completing  and
 polishing his works3 and producing more
 original compositions during  this     
period than at any other of his life4   
,but1 although he here devoted  much    
time and attention to his writings1 it  
was long before he could be  persuaded  
to make them public4 ,virgil calls the  
leisure he enjoyed at  ,naples1 ignoble 
and obscure2 but it was during this     
leisure that he wrote  the ,georgics1   
the most perfect of all his works1 and  
which evince1 in  almost every line1    
that he wrote for immortality4    ,the  
suffrage of posterity1 indeed1 is a     
noble expectation1 which every          
excellent and great writer cherishes    
with enthusiasm4 ,an inferior mind      
contents itself with a more humble      
recompense1 and sometimes obtains  its  
due reward4 ,but writers both great and 
good1 must withdraw from the            
interruptions of society1 and seeking   
the silence of the groves1 and  the     

shades1 retire into their own minds3 for
 every thing they perform1  all that    
they produce1 is the effect of solitude4
 ,to accomplish a work  capable of      
existing through future ages1 or        
deserving the approbation  of           
contemporary sages1 the love of solitude
 must entirely occupy their  souls2 for 
there the mind reviews and arranges1    
with the happiest effect1  all the ideas
 and impressions it has gained in its   
observations in the  world3 it is there 
alone that the dart of satire can be    
truly sharpened  against inveterate     
prejudices and infatuated opinions2 it  
is there alone  that the vices and      
follies of mankind present themselves   
accurately to  the view of the moralist1
 and excite his ardent endeavors to     
correct and  reform them4 ,the hope of  
immortality is certainly the highest    
with which  a great writer can possibly 
flatter his mind2 but he must possess   
the  comprehensive genius of a ,bacon3  
think with the acuteness of ,voltaire3  

compose with the ease and elegance of   
,rousseau2 and1 like them1 produce      
master-pieces worthy of posterity in    
order to obtain it4    ,the love of     
fame1 as well in the cottage as on the  
throne1 or in the  camp1 stimulates the 
mind to the performance of those actions
 which are  most likely to survive      
mortality and live beyond the grave1 and
 which  when achieved1 render the       
evening of life as brilliant as its     
morning4  8,the praises 7says           
,plutarch17 bestowed upon great and     
exalted minds1 only  spur on and rouse  
their emulation3 like a rapid torrent1  
the glory which  they have already      
acquired1 hurries them irresistibly on  
to every thing  that is great and       
noble4--,they never consider themselves 
sufficiently  rewarded4 ,their present  
actions are only pledges of what may be 
expected  from them2 and they would     
blush not to live faithful to their     
glory1 and  to render it still more     
illustrious by the noblest actions40    

,the ear which would be deaf to servile 
adulation and insipid compliment1  will 
listen with pleasure to the enthusiasm  
with which ,cicero exclaims1  8,why     
should we dissemble what it is          
impossible for us to conceal8 ,why      
should we not be proud of confessing    
candidly that we all aspire to  fame8   
,the love of praise influences all      
mankind1 and the greatest  minds are the
 most susceptible of it4 ,the           
philosophers who most preach  up a      
contempt for fame1 prefix their names to
 their works3 and the very  performances
 in which they deny ostentation1 are    
evident proofs of their  vanity and love
 of praise4 ,virtue requires no other   
reward for all the  toils and dangers to
 which she exposes herself than that of 
fame and  glory4 ,take away this        
flattering reward1 and what would remain
 in the  narrow career of life to prompt
 her exertions8 ,if the mind could not  
launch into the prospect of futurity1 or
 the operations of the soul were  to be 

limited to the space that bounds those  
of the body1 she would not  weaken      
herself by constant fatigues1 nor weary 
herself with continual  watchings and   
anxieties2 she would not think even life
 itself worthy of  a struggle3 but there
 lives in the breast of every good man a
 principle  which unceasingly prompts   
and inspirits him to the pursuit of a   
fame  beyond the present hour2 a fame   
not commensurate to our mortal          
existence1  but co-extensive with the   
latest posterity4 ,can we1 who every day
 expose  ourselves to dangers for our   
country1 and have never passed one      
moment of  our lives without anxiety or 
trouble1 meanly think that all          
consciousness  shall be buried with us  
in the grave8 ,if the greatest men have 
been  careful to preserve their busts   
and their statues1 those images1 not  of
 their minds1 but of their bodies1 ought
 we not rather to transmit  to posterity
 the resemblance of our wisdom and      
virtue8 ,for my part1 at  least1 ,i     

acknowledge1 that in all my actions ,i  
conceived that ,i was  disseminating and
 transmitting my fame to the remotest   
corners and the  latest ages of the     
world4 ,whether1 therefore1 my          
consciousness of this  shall cease in   
the grave1 or1 as some have thought1    
shall survive as a  property of the     
soul1 is of little importance4 ,of one  
thing ,i am certain1  that at this      
instant ,i feel from the reflection a   
flattering hope and a  delightful       
sensation40    ,this is the true        
enthusiasm with which preceptors should 
inspire the  bosoms of their young      
pupils4 ,whoever shall be happy enough  
to light up  this generous flame1 and   
increase it by constant application1    
will see  the object of his care        
voluntarily relinquish the pernicious   
pleasures of  youth1 enter with virtuous
 dignity on the stage of life1 and add1 
by the  performance of the noblest      
actions1 new lustre to science1 and     
brighter  rays to glory4 ,the desire of 

extending our fame by noble deeds1 and  
of  increasing the good opinion of      
mankind by a dignified conduct and real 
greatness of soul1 confers advantages   
which neither illustrious birth1        
elevated rank1 nor great fortune can    
bestow2 and which1 even on the  throne1 
are only to be acquired by a life of    
exemplary virtue1 and an  anxious       
attention to the suffrages of posterity4
    ,there is no character1 indeed1 more
 likely to acquire future fame than  the
 satirist1 who dares to point out and   
condemn the follies1 the  prejudices1   
and the growing vices of the age1 in    
strong and nervous  language4 ,works of 
this description1 however they may fail 
to reform the  prevailing manners of the
 times1 will operate on succeeding      
generations1  and extend their influence
 and reputation to the latest posterity4
 ,true  greatness operates long after   
envy and malice have pursued the modest 
merit which produced it to the grave4   
,o1 ,lavater6 those base corrupted      

souls who only shine a moment1 and are  
forever extinguished1 will be           
forgotten1 while the memory of thy name 
is carefully cherished1 and thy  virtues
 fondly beloved3 thy foibles will be no 
longer remembered2 and the  qualities   
which distinguished and adorned thy     
character will alone be  reviewed4 ,the 
rich variety of thy language1 the       
judgment with which thou  hast boldly   
intended and created new expressions1   
the nervous brevity of  thy style1 and  
thy striking picture of human manners1  
will1 as the author  of 8,the           
,characters of ,german ,poets and ,prose
 writers0 has predicted1  extend the    
fame of thy 8,fragments upon            
,physiognomy0 to the remotest           
posterity4 ,the accusation that         
,lavater1 who was capable of developing 
such sublime truths1 and of creating    
almost a new language1 gave credit  to  
the juggles of ,gesner1 will then be    
forgot2 and he will enjoy the life      
after death1 which ,cicero seemed to    

hope for with so much enthusiasm4       
,solitude1 indeed1 affords a pleasure to
 an author of which no one can  deprive 
him1 and which far exceeds all the      
honors of the world4 ,he not  only      
anticipates the effect his work will    
produce1 but while it advances  towards 
completion1 feels the delicious         
enjoyment of those hours of  serenity   
and composure which his labors procure4 
,what continued and  tranquil delight   
flows from this successive composition6 
,sorrows fly  from this elegant         
occupation4 ,o6 ,i would not exchange   
one single hour  of such tranquillity   
and content1 for all those flattering   
illusions of  public fame with which the
 mind of ,tully was so incessantly      
intoxicated4  ,a difficulty surmounted1 
a happy moment seized1 a proposition    
elucidated1  a sentence neatly and      
elegantly turned1 or a thought happily  
expressed1  are salutary and healing    
balms1 counter-poisons to melancholy1   
and belong  exclusively to a wise and   

well-formed solitude4    ,to enjoy      
himself without being dependant on the  
aid of others1 to devote  to employments
 not perhaps entirely useless1 those    
hours which sorrow and  chagrin would   
otherwise steal from the sum of life is 
the great advantage  of an author2 and  
with this advantage alone ,i am         
perfectly contented4    ,solitude not   
only elevates the mind1 but adds new    
strength to its powers4  ,the man who   
has not courage to conquer the          
prejudices and despise  the manners of  
the world1 whose greatest dread is the  
imputation of  singularity1 who forms   
his opinion and regulates his conduct   
upon the  judgment and actions of       
others1 will certainly never possess    
sufficient  strength of mind to devote  
himself to voluntary solitude2 which1 it
 has  been well observed1 is as         
necessary to give a just1 solid1 firm1  
and  forcible tone to our thoughts1 as  
an intercourse with the world is to     
give them richness1 brilliancy1 and just

 appropriation4    ,the mind1 employed  
on noble and interesting subjects1      
disdains  the indolence that stains the 
vacant breast4 ,enjoying freedom and    
tranquillity1 the soul feels the extent 
of its energies with greater            
sensibility1 and displays powers which  
it was before unconscious of            
possessing3 the faculties sharpen2 the  
mind becomes more clear1 luminous1  and 
extensive2 the perception more distinct2
 the whole intellectual  system1 in     
short1 exacts more from itself in the   
leisure of solitude  than in the bustle 
of the world4 ,but to produce these     
happy effects1  solitude must not be    
reduced to a state of tranquil idleness 
and inactive  ease1 of mental numbness1 
or sensual stupor2 it is not sufficient 
to  be continually gazing out of a      
window with a vacant mind1 or gravely   
walking up and down the study in a      
ragged robe-de-chambre and worn-out     
slippers2 for the mere exterior of      
tranquillity cannot elevate or  increase

 the activity of the soul1 which must   
feel an eager desire to  roam at large1 
before it can gain that delightful      
liberty and leisure1  which at the same 
instant improves the understanding and  
corrects the  imagination4 ,the mind1   
indeed1 is enabled1 by the strength it  
acquires  under the shades of           
retirement1 to attack prejudices1 and   
combat  errors1 with the unfailing      
prowess of the most athletic champion2  
for  the more it examines into the      
nature of things1 the closer it brings  
them to its view1 and exposes1 with     
unerring clearness1 all the latent      
properties they possess4 ,an intrepid   
and reflecting mind1 when retired       
within itself1 seizes with rapture on   
truth the moment it is discovered2      
looks round with a smile of pity and    
contempt on those who despise its       
charms2 hears without dismay the        
invectives which envy and malice let    
loose against him2 and nobly disdains   
the hue and cry which the ignorant      

multitude raise against him1 the moment 
he elevates his hand to dart  against   
them one of the strongest and invincible
 truths he has discovered  in his       
retreat4    ,solitude diminishes the    
variety of those troublesome passions   
which disturb the tranquillity of the   
human mind1 by combining and  forming a 
number of them into one great desire2   
for although it may  certainly become   
dangerous to the passions1 it may also1 
thanks to  the dispensations of         
,providence6 produce very salutary      
effects4 ,if it  disorder the mind1 it  
is capable of effecting its cure4 ,it   
extracts  the various propensities of   
the human heart1 and unites them into   
one4  ,by this process we feel and learn
 not only the nature1 but the extent1   
of all the passions which rise up       
against us like the angry waves of a    
disordered ocean1 to overwhelm us in the
 abyss2 but philosophy flies  to our    
aid1 divides their force1 and1 if we do 
not yield to them an  easy victory1 by  

neglecting all opposition to their      
attacks1 virtue and  self-denial bring  
gigantic reinforcements to our          
assistance1 and ensure  success4 ,virtue
 and resolution1 in short1 are equal to 
every conflict1  the instant we learn   
that one passion is to be conquered by  
another4    ,the mind1 exalted by the   
high and dignified sentiments it        
acquires by  lonely meditation1 becomes 
proud of its superiority1 withdraws     
itself  from every base and ignoble     
object1 and avoids1 with heroic virtue1 
the effect of dangerous society4 ,a     
noble mind observes the sons of  worldly
 pleasure mingling in scenes of riot and
 debauchery without being  seduced2     
hears it in vain echoed from every side1
 that incontinence is  among the first  
propensities of the human heart1 and    
that every young  man of fashion and    
spirit must as necessarily indulge his  
appetite for  the fair sex1 as the calls
 of hunger or of sleep4 ,such a mind    
perceives  that libertinism and         

dissipation not only enervate youth1 and
 render the  feelings callous to the    
charms of virtue1 and principles of     
honesty1  but that it destroys every    
manly resolution1 renders the heart     
timid1  decreases exertion1 damps the   
generous warmth and fine enthusiasm of  
the  soul1 and in the end1 totally      
annihilates all its powers4 ,the youth1 
therefore1 who seriously wishes to      
sustain an honorable character on  the  
theatre of life1 must forever renounce  
the habits of indolence and  luxury2 and
 when he no longer impairs his          
intellectual faculties by  debauchery1  
or renders it necessary to attempt the  
renovation of his  languid and          
debilitated constitution by excess of   
wine and luxurious  living1 he will soon
 be relieved from the necessity of      
consuming whole  mornings on horseback  
in a vain search of that health from    
change of  scene which temperance and   
exercise would immediately bestow4      
,all men without exception1 have        

something to learn2 whatever may be the 
distinguished rank which they hold in   
society1 they can never be truly  great 
but by their personal merit4 ,the more  
the faculties of the mind  are exercised
 in the tranquillity of retirement1 the 
more conspicuous  they appear2 and      
should the pleasures of debauchery be   
the ruling  passion1 learn1 ,o young    
man6 that nothing will so easily subdue 
it as an  increasing emulation in great 
and virtuous actions1 a hatred of       
idleness  and frivolity1 the study of   
the sciences1 a frequent communication  
with  your own heart1 and that high and 
dignified spirit which views with       
disdain every thing that is vile and    
contemptible4 ,this generous and  high  
disdain of vice1 this fond and ardent   
love of virtue1 discloses  itself in    
retirement with dignity and greatness1  
where the passion of  high achievement  
operates with greater force than in any 
other situation4  ,the same passion     
which carried ,alexander into ,asia1    

confined ,diogenes to  his tub4         
,heraclius descended from his throne to 
devote his mind to the  search of truth4
 ,he who wishes to render his knowledge 
useful to mankind1  must first study the
 world2 not too intensely1 or for any   
long duration1  or with any fondness for
 its follies2 for the follies of the    
world  enervate and destroy the vigor of
 the mind4 ,cesar tore himself from the 
embraces of ,cleopatra1 and became the  
master of the world2 while ,antony  took
 her as a mistress to his bosom1 sunk   
indolently into her arms1 and  by his   
effeminacy lost not only his life1 but  
the government of the ,roman  empire4   
,solitude1 indeed1 inspires the mind    
with notions too refined and exalted    
for the level of common life4 ,but a    
fondness for high conceptions1 and a    
lively1 ardent disposition1 discovers to
 the votaries of solitude1 the          
possibility of supporting themselves on 
heights which would derange the         
intellects of ordinary men4 ,every      

object that surrounds the solitary  man 
enlarges the faculties of his mind1     
improves the feelings of his  heart1    
elevates him above the condition of the 
species1 and inspires his  soul with    
views of immortality4 ,every day in the 
life of a man of the  world seems as if 
he expected it would be the last of his 
existence4  ,solitude amply compensates 
for every privation1 while the devotee  
of  worldly pleasures conceives himself 
lost if he is deprived of visiting a    
fashionable assembly1 of attending a    
favorite club1 of seeing a new play1  of
 patronizing a celebrated boxer1 or of  
admiring some foreign novelty  which the
 hand-bills of the day have announced4  
,i could never read without feeling the 
warmest emotions1 the following  passage
 of ,plutarch2 8,i live10 says he1      
8entirely upon history2 and  while ,i   
contemplate the pictures it presents to 
my view1 my mind enjoys  a rich repast  
from the representation of great and    
virtuous characters4  ,if the actions of

 men produce some instances of vice1    
corruption1 and  dishonesty2 ,i         
endeavor1 nevertheless1 to remove the   
impression1 or to  defeat its effect4   
,my mind withdraws itself from the      
scene1 and free from  every ignoble     
passion1 ,i attach myself to those high 
examples of virtue  which are so        
agreeable and satisfactory1 and which   
accord so completely  with the genuine  
feelings of our nature40    ,the soul1  
winged by these sublime images1 flies   
from the earth1 mounts  as it proceeds1 
and casts an eye of disdain on those    
surrounding clouds  which1 as they      
gravitate to the earth1 would impede its
 flight4 ,at a  certain height the      
faculties of the mind expand1 and the   
fibres of the  heart dilate4 ,it is1    
indeed1 in the power of every man to    
perform more  than he undertakes2 and   
therefore it is both wise and           
praiseworthy to  attempt every thing    
that is morally within our reach4 ,how  
many dormant  ideas may be awakened by  

exertion6 and then1 what a variety of   
early  impressions1 which were seemingly
 forgot1 revive1 and present themselves 
to our pens6 ,we may always accomplish  
more than we conceive1 provided  passion
 fans the flame which the imagination   
has lighted2 for life is  insupportable 
when unanimated by the soft affections  
of the heart4    ,solitude leads the    
mind to those sources from whence the   
grandest  conceptions are most likely to
 flow4 ,but alas6 it is not in the power
 of  every person to seize the          
advantages solitude bestows4 ,were every
 noble  mind sensible of the extensive  
information1 of the lofty and sublime   
ideas1 of the exquisitely fine feelings 
which result from occasional            
retirement1 they would frequently quit  
the world1 even in the earliest  periods
 of youth1 to taste the sweets of       
solitude1 and lay the foundation  for a 
wise old age4    ,in conducting the low 
and petty affairs of life1 common sense 
is  certainly a more useful quality than

 even genius itself4 ,genius1 indeed1   
or that fine enthusiasm which carries   
the mind into its highest sphere1  is   
clogged and impeded in its ascent by the
 ordinary occupations of the  world1 and
 seldom regains its natural liberty and 
pristine vigor except  in solitude4     
,minds anxious to reach the regions of  
philosophy and science  have1 indeed1 no
 other means of rescuing themselves from
 the burden and  thraldom of worldly    
affairs4 ,sickened and disgusted with   
the ridicule  and obloquy they          
experience from an ignorant and         
presumptuous multitude1  their faculties
 become1 as it were1 extinct1 and mental
 exertion dies  away2 for the desire of 
fame1 that great incentive to           
intellectual  achievement1 cannot long  
exist where merit is no longer rewarded 
by  praise4 ,but1 remove such minds from
 the oppression of ignorance1 of envy1  
of hatred1 of malice2 let them enjoy    
liberty and leisure2 and with the       
assistance of pen1 ink1 and paper1 they 

will soon take an ample revenge1  and   
their productions excite the admiration 
of the world4 ,how many  excellent      
understandings remain in obscurity1     
merely on account of the  possessor     
being condemned to follow worldly       
employments1 in which little  or no use 
of the mind is required1 and which1 for 
that reason1 ought to  be exclusively   
bestowed on the ignorant and illiterate 
vulgar6 ,but this  circumstance can     
seldom happen in solitude1 where the    
mental faculties1  enjoying their       
natural freedom1 and roaming unconfined 
through all parts  and properties of    
nature1 fix on those pursuits most      
congenial to their  powers1 and most    
likely to carry them into their proper  
sphere4    ,the unwelcome reception     
which solitary men frequently meet with 
in the  world1 becomes1 when properly   
considered1 a source of enviable        
happiness2  for to be universally       
beloved1 would prove a great misfortune 
to him who  is meditating in            

tranquillity the performance of some    
great and important  work3 every one    
would then be anxious to visit him1 to  
solicit his visits  in return1 and to   
press for his attendance on all parties4
 ,but though  philosophers are          
fortunately not in general the most     
favored guests in  fashionable          
societies1 they have the satisfaction to
 recollect1 that  it is not ordinary or 
common characters against whom the      
public hatred  and disgust are excited4 
,there is always something great in that
 man  against whom the world exclaims1  
at whom every one throws a stone1 and   
on whose character all attempt to fix a 
thousand crimes1 without being  able to 
prove one4 ,the fate of a man of genius1
 who lives retired and  unknown1 is     
certainly more enviable3 for he will    
then enjoy the pleasure  of undisturbed 
retirement2 and naturally imagining the 
multitude to  be ignorant of his        
character1 will not be surprised that   
they should  continually misinterpret   

and pervert both his words and actions2 
or that  the efforts of his friends to  
undeceive the public with respect to his
  merit should prove abortive4    ,such 
was1 in the mistaken view of the world1 
the fate of the celebrated  count       
,schaumbourg ,lippe1 better known by the
 appellation of count de  ,buckebourg4  
,no character1 throughout ,germany1 was 
ever more traduced1  or so little       
understood2 and yet he was worthy of    
being enrolled among  the highest names 
his age or country ever produced4 ,when 
,i first became  acquainted with him1 he
 lived in almost total privacy1 quite   
retired  from the world1 on a small     
paternal farm1 in the management of     
which  consisted all his pleasure and   
employment4 ,his exterior appearance was
  ,i confess1 rather forbidding1 and    
prevented superficial observers from    
perceiving the extraordinary endowments 
of his brilliant and capacious  mind4   
,the count de ,lacy1 formerly ambassador
 from the court of ,madrid to           

,petersburgh1 related to me during his  
residence at ,hanover1 that he led  the 
,spanish army against the ,portuguese at
 the time they were commanded  by the   
count de ,buckebourg2 and that when the 
officers discovered him as  they were   
reconnoitering the enemy with their     
glasses1 the singularity of  his        
appearance struck them so forcibly1 that
 they immediately exclaimed1  8,are the 
,portuguese commanded by ,don ,quixote80
 ,the ambassador1 however1  who         
possessed a liberal mind1 did justice in
 the highest terms1 to the  merit and   
good conduct of ,buckebourg in          
,portugal2 and praised1 with            
enthusiastic admiration1 the goodness of
 his mind1 and the greatness  of his    
character4 ,viewed at a distance1 his   
appearance was certainly  romantic2 and 
his heroic countenance1 his flowing     
hair1 his tall and  meagre figure1 and  
particularly the extraordinary length of
 his visage1  might1 in truth1 recall   
some idea of the celebrated knight of   

,la ,mancha3  but1 on a closer view1    
both his person and his manners         
dispelled the  idea2 for his features1  
full of fire and animation1 announced   
the  elevation1 sagacity1 penetration1  
kindness1 virtue1 and serenity of his   
soul2 and the most sublime and heroic   
sentiments were as familiar and  natural
 to his mind1 as they were to the       
noblest characters of ,greece and       
,rome4    ,the count was born in        
,london1 and possessed a disposition as 
whimsical as  it was extraordinary4 ,the
 anecdotes concerning him1 which ,i     
heard from  his relation1 a ,german     
prince1 are perhaps not generally known4
 ,fond of  contending with the ,english 
in every thing1 he laid a wager that he 
would  ride a horse from ,london to     
,edinburg backwards1 that is1 with the  
horse's  head toward ,edinburg1 and the 
count's face toward ,london2 and in this
  manner he actually rode through       
several counties in ,england1 he        
travelled  through the greater part of  

that kingdom on foot in the disguise of 
a  common beggar4 ,being informed that  
part of the current of the ,danube1     
above ,regensberg1 was so strong and    
rapid1 that no one dared to swim  across
 it2 he made the attempt1 and ventured  
so far that he nearly lost  his life4 ,a
 great statesman and profound           
philosopher at ,hanover related  to me1 
that during the war in which the count  
commanded the artillery  in the army of 
prince ,ferdinand of ,brunswick against 
the ,french1 he one  day invited a      
number of ,hanoverian officers to dine  
with him in his  tent4 ,while the       
company were in the highest state of    
festive mirth and  gayety1 a succession 
of cannon balls passed directly over the
 head of  the tent4 8,the ,french cannot
 be far off60 exclaimed the officers4   
8,oh6 ,i  assure you10 replied the      
count1 8they are not near us20 and he   
begged the  gentlemen would make        
themselves perfectly easy1 resume their 
seats1 and  finish their dinner4 ,soon  

afterwards a cannon ball carried away   
the top  of the tent1 when the officers 
again rose precipitately from their     
seats1  exclaiming1 8,the enemy are     
here60 8,no1 no10 replied the count1    
8the enemy  are not here2 therefore ,i  
must request1 gentlemen1 that you will  
place  yourselves at the table1 and sit 
still1 for you may rely on my word40    
,the  firing recommenced and the balls  
flew about in the same direction3 the   
officers1 however1 remained fixed to    
their seats2 and while they ate and     
drank in seeming tranquillity1 whispered
 to each other their surmises  and      
conjectures on this singular            
entertainment4 ,at length the count1    
rising from his seat addressed the      
company in these words3 8gentlemen1  ,i 
was willing to convince you how well ,i 
can rely upon the officers of  my       
artillery4 ,i ordered them to fire1     
during the time we continued at  dinner1
 at the pinnacle of the tent2 and you   
have observed with what  punctuality    

they obeyed my orders40                 
,characteristic traits of a man anxious 
to inure himself and those  about him to
 arduous and difficult exploits will not
 be useless or  unentertaining to       
curious and speculative minds4 ,being   
one day in  company with the count at   
fort ,wilhelmstein1 by the side of a    
magazine  of gunpowder1 which he had    
placed in the room immediately under    
that in  which he slept1 ,i observed to 
him1 that ,i should not be able to sleep
  very contentedly there during some of 
the hot nights of summer4 ,the  count1  
however1 convinced me1 though ,i do not 
now recollect by what  means1 that the  
greatest danger and no danger1 are one  
and the same  thing4 ,when ,i first saw 
this extraordinary man1 which was in the
 company  of two officers1 the one      
,english the other ,portuguese1 he      
entertained  me for two hours upon the  
physiology of ,haller1 whose works he   
knew by  heart4 ,the ensuing morning he 
insisted on my accompanying him in a    

little  boat1 which he rowed himself1 to
 fort ,wilhelmstein1 built under his    
direction in the middle of the water1   
from plans1 which he showed me of  his  
own drawing4 ,one ,sunday1 on the great 
parade at ,pyrmont1 surrounded  by a    
vast concourse of men and women occupied
 in music1 dancing1 and  gallantries1 he
 entertained me during the course of two
 hours on the  same spot1 and with as   
much serenity if we had been alone1 by  
detailing  the various controversies    
respecting the existence of ,god1       
pointing out  their defective parts and 
convincing me that he surpassed every   
writer in  his knowledge of the subject4
 ,to prevent my escaping from this      
lecture1  he held me fast the whole time
 by one of the buttons of my coat4 ,at  
his  country seat at ,buckebourg1 he    
showed me a large folio volume1 in his  
own  hand-writing1 upon 8,the ,art of   
defending a small town against a great  
force40 ,the work was completely        
finished and intended as a present to   

the  king of ,portugal4 ,there were many
 passages in it1 which the count did me 
the favor to read relating to           
,swisserland1 a country and people which
 he  considered as invincible2 pointing 
out to me not only all the important    
places they might occupy against an     
enemy1 but discovering passes before    
unknown1 and through which even a cat   
would scarce be able to crawl4 ,i  do   
not believe that any thing was ever     
written of higher importance to  the    
interests of my country than this work2 
for it contains satisfactory  answers to
 every objection that ever has or can be
 made4 ,my friend ,m4  ,moyse           
,mendelsohm1 to whom the cont read the  
preface to this work while  he resided  
at ,pyrmont1 considered it as a         
master-piece of fine style  and sound   
reasoning2 for the count1 when he       
pleased1 wrote the ,french  language    
with nearly as much elegance and purity 
as ,voltaire3 while in  the ,german he  
was labored1 perplexed1 and diffuse4 ,i 

must1 however1  add this in his praise1 
that1 on his return from ,portugal1 he  
studied  for many years under two of the
 most acute masters in ,germany3 first1 
,abbt2 and afterwards ,herder4 ,many    
persons who1 from a closer intimacy  and
 deeper penetration1 have had greater   
opportunities of observing the  conduct 
and character of this truly great and   
extraordinary man1 relate  of him a     
variety of anecdotes equally instructive
 and entertaining4 ,i  shall only add   
one observation more respecting his     
character1 availing  myself of the words
 of ,shakspeare2 the count ,guilaume de 
,schaumbourg  ,lippe                    
8''' carries no dagger4      ,he has a  
lean and hungry look2                   
''' but he's not dangerous3             
''' he reads much3      ,he is a great  
observer3 and he looks      ,quite thro'
 the deeds of men4 ,he loves no plays   
''' he hears no music2      ,seldom he  
smiles1 and smiles in such a sort1      
,as if he mock'd himself1 and scorn'd   

his spirit1      ,that could be mov'd to
 smile at any thing40    ,such was the  
character1 always misunderstood1 of this
 solitary man2 and  such a character    
might fairly indulge a contemptuous     
smile1 on perceiving  the mistaken      
sneers of an ignorant multitude4 ,but   
what must be the shame  and confusion of
 the partial judges of mankind1 when    
they behold the  monument which the     
great ,mendelsohm has raised to his     
memory2 and the  faithful history of his
 life and manners which a young author  
is about  to publish at ,hanover2 the   
profound sentiments1 the elegant style1 
the  truth1 and the sincerity of which  
will be discovered and acknowledged by  
impartial posterity8    ,the men who1 as
 ,i have frequently observed1 are       
disposed to ridicule this  illustrious  
character on account of his long visage1
 his flowing hair1  his enormous hat1 or
 his little sword1 might be pardoned1   
if1 like him1  they were philosophers or
 heroes4 ,the mind of the count1        

however1 was  too exalted to be moved by
 their insulting taunts1 and he never   
smiled  upon the world1 or upon men1    
either with spleen or with contempt4    
,feeling  no hatred1 indulging no       
misanthropy1 his looks beamed kindness  
on all  around him2 and he enjoyed with 
dignified composure the tranquillity  of
 his rural retreat in the middle of a   
thick forest1 either alone or  in the   
company of a fond and virtuous wife1    
whose death so sensibly  afflicted even 
his firm and constant mind1 that it     
brought him almost  to an untimely      
grave4 ,the people of ,athens laughed at
 ,themistocles1 and  openly reviled him 
even in the streets1 because he was     
ignorant of the  manners of the world1  
the ton of good company1 and that       
accomplishment  which is called good    
breeding4 ,he retorted1 however1 upon   
these ignorant  railers with the keenest
 asperity3 8,it is true10 said he1 8,i  
never play  upon the lute2 but ,i know  
how to raise a small and inconsiderable 

city to  greatness and to glory40       
,solitude and philosophy may inspire    
sentiments which appear ludicrous  to   
the eye of worldly folly1 but they      
banish all light and insignificant      
ideas1 and prepare the mind for the     
grandest and most sublime  conceptions4 
,those who are in the habit of studying 
great and exalted  characters1 of       
cultivating refined and elevated        
sentiments1 unavoidably  contract a     
singularity of manners which may furnish
 ample materials for  ridicule4         
,romantic characters always view things 
differently from what  they really are  
or can be2 and the habit of invariably  
contemplating the  sublime and          
beautiful1 renders them1 in the eyes of 
the weak and wicked1  insipid and       
unsupportable4 ,men of this disposition 
always acquire a high  and dignified    
demeanor1 which shocks the feelings of  
the vulgar2 but it  is not on that      
account the less meritorious4 ,certain  
,indian philosophers  annually quitted  

their solitude to visit the palace of   
their sovereign1  where each of them1 in
 his turn1 delivered his advice upon the
 government  of the state1 and upon the 
changes and limitations which might be  
made  in the laws2 but he who three     
successive times communicated false or  
unimportant observations1 lost for one  
year1 the privilege of appearing  in the
 presence-chamber4 ,this practice is    
well calculated to prevent  the mind    
from growing romantic3 but there are    
many philosophers of a  different       
description1 who if they had the same   
opportunity1 would not  meet with better
 success4    ,plotinus requested the    
emperor ,gallienus to confer on him a   
small city  in ,campania1 and the       
territory appendant to it1 promising to 
retire to  it with his friends and      
followers1 and to realise in the        
government of  it the ,republic of      
,plato4 ,it happened then1 however1 as  
it frequently  happens now in many      
courts1 to philosophers much less       

chimerical than  ,plotinus2 the         
statesmen laughed at the proposal1 and  
told the emperor  that the philosopher  
was a fool1 in whose mind even          
experience had  produced no effect4     
,the history of the greatness and       
virtues of the ancients operate in      
solitude with the happiest effect4      
,sparks of that bright flame which      
warmed the bosoms of the great and good1
 frequently kindled unexpected  fires4  
,a lady in the country1 whose health was
 impaired by nervous  affections1 was   
advised to read with attention the      
history of the ,greek  and ,roman       
empires4 ,at the expiration of three    
months she wrote to me in  the following
 terms3 8,you have inspired my mind with
 a veneration for  the virtues of the   
ancients4 ,what are the buzzing race of 
the present  day1 when compared with    
those noble characters8 ,history        
heretofore was  not my favorite study3  
but now ,i live only in its pages4      
,while ,i read of  the transactions of  

,greece and ,rome1 ,i wish to become an 
actor in the  scenes4 ,it has not only  
opened to me an inexhaustible source of 
pleasure1  but it has restored me to    
health4 ,i could not have believed that 
my  library contained so inestimable a  
treasure3 my books will now prove  more 
valuable to me than all the fortune ,i  
possess2 in the course of six  months   
you will no longer be troubled with my  
complaints4 ,plutarch is  more          
delightful to me than the charms of     
dress1 the triumphs of coquetry1  or the
 sentimental effusions which lovers     
address to those mistresses  who are    
inclined to be all heart2 and with whom 
satan plays tricks of  love with the    
same address as a dilettante plays      
tricks of music on the  violin40 ,this  
lady1 who is really learned1 no longer  
fills her letters  with the transactions
 of her kitchen and poultry yard2 she   
has recovered  her health2 and will     
experience hereafter1 ,i conjecture1 as 
much pleasure  among her hens and       

chickens1 as she did before from the    
pages of ,plutarch4    ,but although the
 immediate effects of such writings     
cannot be constantly  perceived1 except 
in solitude1 or in the society of select
 friends1  yet they may remotely be     
productive of the happiest consequences4
 ,the  mind of a man of genius1 during  
his solitary walks1 is crowded with a   
variety of ideas1 which1 on being       
disclosed1 would appear ridiculous  to  
the common herd of mankind3 a period1   
however1 arrives1 at which  they lead   
men to the performance of actions worthy
 of immortality4 ,the  national songs   
composed by that ardent genius ,lavater1
 appeared at a  moment when the republic
 was in a declining state1 and the      
temper of  the times unfavorable to     
their reception4 ,the ,schintzuach      
society1 by  whose persuasion they had  
been written1 had given some offence to 
the  ,french ambassador2 and from that  
time all the measures which the members 
adopted were decried with the most      

factious virulence in every quarter4    
,even the great ,haller1 who had been   
refused admission1 considering them  as 
disciples of ,rousseau1 whom he hated2  
and as enemies to orthodoxy1  which he  
loved2 pointed his epigrams against them
 in every letter ,i  received from him2 
and the committee for the reformation of
 literature  at ,zurich expressly       
prohibited the publication of these     
excellent lyric  compositions1 on the   
curious pretence1 that it was dangerous 
and improper  to stir up a dunghill4 ,no
 poet of ,greece1 however1 ever wrote   
with more  fire and force in favor of   
his country than ,lavater did in favor  
of  the liberties of ,swisserland4 ,i   
have heard children chaunt these songs  
with patriotic enthusiasm2 and seen the 
finest eyes filled with tears  of       
rapture while their ears listened to the
 singers4 ,joy glowed in the  breasts of
 the ,swiss peasants to whom they were  
sung3 their muscles  swelled1 and the   
blood inflamed their cheeks4 ,fathers   

have1 within my own  knowledge1 carried 
their infant children to the chapel of  
the celebrated  ,william ,tell1 to join 
in full chorus the song which ,lavater  
composed  upon the merits of that great 
man4 ,i have myself made the rocks      
re-echo  to my voice1 by singing these  
songs to the music which the feelings of
  my heart composed for them while      
wandering over the fields1 and climbing 
among the famous mountains where those  
heroes1 the ancestors of our  race1     
signalized themselves by their immortal 
valor4 ,i fancied that ,i  saw them     
still armed with their knotted clubs1   
breaking to pieces the  crowned helmets 
of ,germany2 and although inferior in   
numbers1 forcing  the proud nobility to 
seek their safety by a precipitate and  
ignominious  flight4 ,these1 it may be  
said1 are romantic notions1 and can only
 please  solitary and recluse men1 who  
see things differently from the rest of 
the world4 ,but great ideas sometimes   
now make their way in spite of the  most

 obstinate opposition1 and operating1   
particularly in republics1 by           
insensible degrees1 sow the seeds of    
those principles and true opinions1     
which1 as they arrive to maturity1 prove
 so efficacious in times of  political  
contest and public commotion4           
,solitude1 therefore1 by instilling high
 sentiments of human nature1  and heroic
 resolutions in defence of its just     
privileges1 unites all  the qualities   
which are necessary to raise the soul   
and fortify the  character1 and forms an
 ample shield against the shafts of     
envy1  hatred or malice4 ,resolved to   
think and to act1 upon every occasion in
  opposition to the sentiments of narrow
 minds1 the solitary man attends  to all
 the various opinions he meets with1 but
 is astonished at none4  ,without being 
ungrateful for the just and rational    
esteem his intimate  friends bestow upon
 him2 remembering1 too1 that friends1   
always partial1  and inclined to judge  
too favorably1 frequently1 like enemies1

 suffer  their feelings to carry them   
too far2 he boldly calls upon the public
  voice to announce his character to the
 world at large3 displays his just      
pretensions before this impartial       
tribunal1 and demands that justice      
which is due4    ,but solitude1 although
 it exalts the sentiments1 is generally 
conceived  to render the mind unfit for 
business3 this1 however1 is1 in my      
opinion1  a great mistake4 ,to avoid    
tottering through the walks of public   
duty1  it must be of great utility to   
have acquired a firm step1 by exercising
  the mind in solitude on those subjects
 which are likely to occur in  public   
life4 ,the love of truth is best        
preserved in solitude1 and virtue  there
 acquires greater consistency3 but ,i   
confess truth is not always  convenient 
in business nor the rigid exercise of   
virtue propitious to  worldly success4  
,the great and the good however1 of     
every clime1 revere the simplicity  of  
manners1 and the singleness of heart1   

which solitude produces4 ,it was  these 
inestimable qualities which during the  
fury of the war between  ,england and   
,france1 obtained the philosophic ,jean 
,andre de ,luc the  reception he met    
with at the court of ,versailles2 and   
inspired the breast  of the virtuous1   
the immortal de ,vergennes with the     
desire to reclaim1 by  the mild precepts
 of a philosopher1 the refractory       
citizens of ,geneva1  which all his     
remonstrances1 as prime minister of     
,france1 had been unable  to effect4 ,de
 ,luc1 at the request of ,vergennes made
 the attempt1 but  failed of success2   
and ,france1 as it is well known1 was   
obliged to send  an army to subdue the  
,genevese4 ,it was upon his favorite    
mountains that  this amiable philosopher
 acquired that simplicity of manners1   
which he  still preserves amidst all the
 luxuries and seductions of ,london2    
where  he endures with firmness all the 
wants1 refuses all the indulgences1 and 
subdues all the desires of social life4 

,while he resided at ,hanover1 ,i  only 
remarked one single instance of luxury  
in which he indulged himself2  when any 
thing vexed his mind1 he chewed a small 
morsel of sugar1 of  which he always    
carried a small supply in his pocket4   
,solitude not only creates simplicity of
 manners1 but prepares and  strengthens 
the faculties for the toils of busy     
life4 ,fostered in the  bosom of        
retirement1 the mind becomes more active
 in the world and its  concerns1 and    
retires again into tranquillity to      
repose itself1 and  prepare for new     
conflicts4 ,pericles1 ,phocion1 and     
,epaminondas1 laid  the foundation of   
all their greatness in solitude1 and    
acquired there  rudiments1 which all the
 language of the schools cannot         
teach--the  rudiments of their future   
lives and actions4 ,pericles1 while     
preparing  his mind for any important   
object1 never appeared in public1 but   
immediately refrained from feasting1    
assemblies1 and every species of        

entertainment2 and during the whole time
 that he administered the affairs  of   
the republic1 he only went once to sup  
with a friend1 and left him  at an early
 hour4 ,phocion immediately resigned    
himself to the study of  philosophy3 not
 from the ostentatious motive of being  
called a wise  man1 but to enable       
himself to conduct the business of the  
state with  greater resolution and      
effect4 ,epaminondas1 who had passed his
 whole  life in the delights of         
literature1 and in the improvement of   
his mind1  astonished the ,thebans by   
the military skill and dexterity which  
he all  at once displayed at the battles
 of ,mantinea and ,leuctra1 in the first
 of  which he rescued his friend        
,pelopidas3 but it was owing to the     
frugal use  he made of his time1 to the 
attention with which he devoted his mind
 to  every pursuit he adopted1 and to   
that solitude which his relinquishment  
of every public employment afforded him4
 ,his countrymen1 however1 forced  him  

to abandon his retreat1 gave him the    
absolute command of the army2  and by   
his military skill1 he saved the        
republic4    ,petrarch1 also a character
 ,i never contemplate but with          
increasing  sensibility1 formed his     
mind1 and rendered it capable of        
transacting  the most complicated       
political affairs1 by the habit he      
acquired in  solitude4 ,he was1 indeed1 
what persons frequently become in       
solitude1  choleric1 satirical1 and     
petulant3 and has been severely         
reproached  with having drawn the       
manners of his age with too harsh and   
sombrous a  pencil1 particularly the    
scenes of infamy which were transacted  
at the  court of ,avignon1 under the    
pontificate of ,clement ,,vi42 but he   
was a  perfect master of the human      
heart1 knew how to manage the passions  
with  uncommon dexterity1 and to turn   
them directly to his purposes4 ,the abbe
  de ,sades1 the best historian of his  
life1 says1 8he is scarcely known1      

except as a tender and elegant poet1 who
 loved with ardor1 and sung1 in  all the
 harmony of verse1 the charms of his    
mistress40 ,but was this in  reality the
 whole of his character8--,certainly    
not4 ,literature1 long  buried in the   
ruins of barbarity1 owes the highest    
obligations to his  pen2 he rescued some
 of the finest works of antiquity from  
dust and  rottenness2 and many of those 
precious treasures of learning1 which   
have  since contributed to delight and  
instruct mankind1 were discovered by    
his industry1 corrected by his learning 
and sagacity1 and multiplied in         
accurate copies at his expense4 ,he was 
the great restorer of elegant  writing  
and true taste2 and by his own          
compositions1 equal to any that  ancient
 ,rome1 previous to its subjugation1    
produced1 purified the public  mind1    
reformed the manners of the age1 and    
extirpated the prejudices  of the times4
 ,pursuing his studies with unremitting 
firmness to the  hour of his death1 his 

last work surpassed all that had        
preceded it4  ,but he was not only a    
tender lover1 an elegant poet1 and a    
correct  and classical historian1 but an
 able statesman also1 to whom the most  
celebrated sovereigns of his age        
confided every difficult negotiation1   
and consulted in their most important   
concerns4 ,he possessed1 in the         
fourteenth century1 a degree of fame1   
credit1 and influence1 which  no man of 
the present day1 however learned1 has   
ever acquired4 ,three  popes1 an        
emperor1 a sovereign of ,france1 a king 
of ,naples1 a crowd of  cardinals1 the  
greatest princes1 and the most          
illustrious nobility of  ,italy1        
cultivated his friendship1 and solicited
 his correspondence4 ,in  the several   
capacities of statesman1 minister1 and  
ambassador1 he was  employed in         
transacting the greatest affairs1 and by
 that means was  enabled to acquire and 
disclose the most useful and important  
truths4  ,these high advantages he owed 

entirely to solitude1 with the nature of
  which as he was better acquainted than
 any other person1 so he cherished  it  
with greater fondness1 and resounded its
 praise with higher energy2  and at     
length preferred his leisure and liberty
 to all the enjoyments of  the world4   
,love1 to which he had consecrated the  
prime of life1 appeared1  indeed1 for a 
long time1 to enervate his mind2 but    
suddenly abandoning  the soft and       
effeminate style in which he breathed   
his sighs at ,laura's  feet1 he         
addressed kings1 emperors1 and popes1   
with manly boldness1  and with that     
confidence which splendid talents and a 
high reputation  always inspires4 ,in an
 elegant oration1 worthy of ,demosthenes
 and ,cicero1  he endeavored to compose 
the jarring interests of ,italy2 and    
exhorted  the contending powers to      
destroy with their confederated arms1   
the  barbarians1 those common enemies of
 their country1 who were ravaging its   
very bosom1 and preying on its vitals4  

,the enterprises of ,rienzi1 who  seemed
 like an agent sent from heaven to      
restore the decayed metropolis  of the  
,roman empire to its former splendor1   
were suggested1 encouraged1  directed1  
and supported by his abilities4 ,a timid
 emperor was roused by  his eloquence to
 invade ,italy1 and induced to seize    
upon the reins of  government1 as       
successor to the ,cesars4 ,the pope1 by 
his advice1 removed  the holy chair1    
which had been transported to the       
borders of the ,rhine1  and replaced it 
on the banks of the ,tiber2 and at a    
moment even when  he confessed1 in one  
of his letters1 that his mind was       
distracted with  vexation1 his heart    
torn with love1 and his whole soul      
disgusted with  men and measures4 ,pope 
,clement ,,vi1 confided to his          
negotiation an affair  of great         
difficulty at the court of ,naples1 in  
which he succeeded to the  highest      
satisfaction of his employer4 ,his      
residence at courts1 indeed1  had       

rendered him ambitious1 busy1 and       
enterprising2 and he candidly           
acknowledged1 that he felt a pleasure on
 perceiving a hermit1 accustomed  to    
dwell only in woods1 and to saunter over
 plains1 running through the            
magnificent palaces of cardinals with a 
crowd of courtiers in his suite4  ,when 
,john ,visconti1 archbishop and prince  
of ,milan1 and sovereign of  ,lombardy1 
who united the finest talents with      
ambition so insatiable1  that it        
threatened to swallow up all ,italy1 had
 the happiness to fix  ,petrarch in his 
interests1 by inducing him to accept of 
a seat in his  council1 the friends of  
the philosopher whispered one among     
another1  8,this stern republican who   
breathed no sentiments but those of     
liberty  and independence2 this untamed 
bull1 who roared so loud at the         
slightest  shadow of the yoke2 who could
 endure no fetters but those of love1   
and  who even felt those too heavy3 who 
has refused the first offices at  the   

court of ,rome1 because he disdained to 
wear golden chains2 has at  length      
submitted to be shackled by the tyrant  
of ,italy2 and this great  apostle of   
solitude1 who could no longer live      
except in the tranquillity  of the      
groves1 now contentedly resides amidst  
the tumults of ,milan40  8,my friends10 
replied ,petrarch1 8have reason to      
arraign my conduct4  ,man has not a     
greater enemy than himself4 ,i acted    
against my taste and  inclination4      
,alas6 through the whole course of our  
lives1 we do those  things which we     
ought not to have done1 and leave undone
 what most we  wish to do40 ,but        
,petrarch might have told his friends1  
8,i was willing to  convince you how    
much a mind1 long exercised in solitude1
 can perform  when engaged in the       
business of the world2 how much a       
previous retirement  enables a man to   
transact the affairs of public life with
 ease1 firmness1  dignity and effect40  
,the courage which is necessary to      

combat the prejudices of the multitude1 
is only to be acquired by a contempt of 
the frivolous transactions  of the      
world1 and1 of course is seldom         
possessed1 except by solitary  men4     
,worldly pursuits1 so far from adding   
strength to the mind1 only  weaken it2  
in like manner as any particular        
enjoyment too frequently  repeated1     
dulls the edge of the appetite for every
 pleasure4 ,how often  do the best      
contrived and most excellent schemes    
fail1 merely for want  of sufficient    
courage to surmount the difficulty which
 attend their  execution6--,how many    
happy thoughts have been stifled in     
their birth1  from an apprehension that 
they were too bold to be indulged6      
,an idea has prevailed1 that truth can  
only be freely and boldly spoken  under 
a republican form of government2 but    
this idea is certainly  without         
foundation4 ,it is true1 that in        
aristocracies1 as well as under  a more 
open form of government1 where a single 

demagogue unfortunately  possesses the  
sovereign power1 common sense is too    
frequently construed  into public       
offence4 ,where this absurdity exists1  
the mind must be timid1  and the people 
in consequence deprived of their        
liberty4 ,in a monarchy  every offence  
is punished by the sword of justice2 but
 in a republic1  punishments are        
inflicted by prejudices1 passions1 and  
state necessity4  ,the first maxim      
which1 under a republican form of       
government1 parents  endeavor to instil 
into the minds of their children1 is1   
not to make  enemies2 and ,i remember1  
when ,i was very young1 replying to this
 sage  counsel1 8,my dear mother1 do you
 not know that he who has no enemies  is
 a poor man80 ,in a republic the        
citizens are under the authority and    
jealous observation of a multitude of   
sovereigns2 while in a monarchy the     
reigning prince is the only man whom his
 subjects are bound to obey4 ,the  idea 
of living under the control of a number 

of masters intimidates the  mind2       
whereas love and confidence in one      
alone1 raises the spirits and  renders  
the people happy4    ,but in all        
countries1 and under every form of      
government1 the rational  man1 who      
renounces the useless conversation of   
the world1 who lives a  retired life1   
and who1 independently of all that he   
sees1 of all that  he hears1 forms his  
notions in tranquillity1 by an          
intercourse with  the heroes of ,greece1
 of ,rome1 and of ,great ,britain1 will 
acquire a  steady and uniform character1
 obtain a noble style of thinking1 and  
rise  superior to every vulgar          
prejudice4    ,these are the            
observations ,i had to make respecting  
the influence of  occasional solitude   
upon the mind4 ,they disclose my real   
sentiments on  this subject3 many of    
them1 perhaps1 undigested1 and many more
 certainly  not well expressed4 ,but ,i 
shall console myself for these defects1 
if  this chapter affords only a glimpse 

of those advantages1 which1 ,i am       
persuaded1 a rational solitude is       
capable of affording to the minds and   
manners of men2 and if that which       
follows shall excite a lively sensation 
of the true1 noble1 and elevated        
pleasures retirement is capable of      
producing by a tranquil and feeling     
contemplation of nature1 and by an      
exquisite sensibility for every thing   
that is good and fair4                  
,,chapter ,,iii4    ,influence of       
,solitude upon the ,heart4      ,the    
highest happiness which is capable of   
being enjoyed in this world1  consists  
in peace of mind4 ,the wise mortal who  
renounces the tumults  of the world1    
restrains his desires and inclinations1 
resigns himself to  the dispensations of
 his ,creator1 and looks with an eye of 
pity on the  frailties of his fellow    
creatures2 whose greatest pleasure is to
 listen  among the rocks to the soft    
murmurs of a cascade2 to inhale1 as he  
walks  along the plains1 the refreshing 

breezes of the zephyrs2 and to dwell in 
the surrounding woods1 on the melodious 
accents of the aerial choristers2  may1 
by the simple feelings of his heart1    
obtain this invaluable blessing4    ,to 
taste the charms of retirement1 it is   
not necessary to divest the  heart of   
its emotions4 ,the world may be         
renounced without renouncing  the       
enjoyment which the tear of sensibility 
is capable of affording4  ,but to render
 the heart susceptible of this felicity1
 the mind must be  able to admire with  
equal pleasure nature in her sublimest  
beauties1  and in the modest flower that
 decks the vallies2 to enjoy at the same
  time that harmonious combination of   
parts which expands the soul1 and  those
 detached portions of the whole which   
present the softest and most  agreeable 
images to the mind4 ,nor are these      
enjoyments exclusively  reserved for    
those strong and energetic bosoms whose 
sensations are as  lively as they are   
delicate1 and in which1 for that reason1

 the good  and the bad make the same    
impression3 the purest happiness1 the   
most  enchanting tranquillity1 are also 
granted to men of colder feelings1 and  
whose imaginations are less bold and    
lively2 but to such characters the      
portraits must not be so highly colored1
 nor the tints so sharp2 for as  the bad
 strikes them less1 so also they are    
less susceptible of livelier            
impressions4    ,the high enjoyments    
which the heart feels in solitude are   
derived from  the imagination4 ,the     
touching aspect of delightful nature1   
the variegated  verdure of the forests1 
the resounding echoes of an impetuous   
torrent1  the soft agitation of the     
foliage1 the warblings of the tenants of
 the  groves1 the beautiful scenery of a
 rich and extensive country1 and all    
those objects which compose an agreeable
 landscape1 take such complete          
possession of the soul1 and so entirely 
absorb our faculties1 that the          
sentiments of the mind are by the charms

 of the imagination instantly  converted
 into sensations of the heart1 and the  
softest emotions give  birth to the most
 virtuous and worthy sentiments4 ,but to
 enable the  imagination thus to render 
every object fascinating and delightful1
 it  must act with freedom1 and dwell   
amidst surrounding tranquillity4 ,oh6   
how  easy is it to renounce noisy       
pleasures and tumultuous assemblies for 
the  enjoyment of that philosophic      
melancholy which solitude inspires6     
,religious awe and rapturous delight are
 alternately excited by the  deep gloom 
of forests1 by the tremendous height of 
broken rocks1 and  by the multiplicity  
of majestic and sublime objects which   
are combined  within the site of a      
delightful and extensive prospect4 ,the 
most painful  sensations immediately    
yield to the serious1 soft1 and solitary
 reveries  to which the surrounding     
tranquillity invites the mind2 while the
  vast and awful silence of nature      
exhibits the happy contrast between     

simplicity and grandeur2 and as our     
feelings become more exquisite1 so  our 
admiration becomes more intense1 and our
 pleasures more complete4    ,i had been
 for many years familiar with all that  
nature is capable  of producing in her  
sublimest works1 when ,i first saw a    
garden in  the vicinity of ,hanover1 and
 another upon a much larger scale at    
,marienwerder1 about three miles        
distant1 cultivated in the ,english     
style of rural ornament4 ,i was not then
 apprized of the extent of that  art    
which sports with the most ungrateful   
soil1 and1 by a new species  of         
creation1 converts barren mountains into
 fertile fields and smiling  landscapes4
 ,this magic art makes an astonishing   
impression on the mind1  and captivates 
every heart1 not insensible to the      
delightful charms of  cultivated nature4
 ,i cannot recollect without shedding   
tears of gratitude  and joy1 a single   
day of this early part of my residence  
in ,hanover1  when1 torn from the bosom 

of my country1 from the embraces of my  
family1  and from every thing that ,i   
held dear in life1 my mind1 on entering 
the little garden of my deceased friend1
 ,m4 de ,hinuber1 near ,hanover1        
immediately revived1 and ,i forgot1 for 
the moment1 both my country and my      
grief4 ,the charm was new to me4 ,i had 
no conception that it was possible1     
upon so small a plot of ground1 to      
introduce at once the enchanting        
variety and the noble simplicity of     
nature4 ,but ,i was then convinced1     
that her aspect alone is sufficient1 at 
first view1 to heal the wounded         
feelings of the heart1 to fill the bosom
 with the highest luxury1 and to  create
 those sentiments in the mind1 which    
can1 of all others1 render  life        
desirable4    ,this new re-union of art 
and nature1 which was not invented in   
,china1 but  in ,england1 is founded    
upon a rational and refined taste for   
the beauties  of nature1 confirmed by   
experience1 and by the sentiments which 

a chaste  fancy reflects on a feeling   
heart4    ,but in the gardens ,i have   
before mentioned1 every point of view   
raises  the soul to heaven1 and affords 
the mind sublime delight2 every bank    
presents a new and varied scene1 which  
fills the heart with joy3 nor1  while ,i
 feel the sensation which such scenes   
inspire1 will ,i suffer my  delight to  
be diminished by discussing whether the 
arrangement might have  been made in a  
better way1 or permit the dull rules of 
cold and senseless  masters to destroy  
my pleasure4 ,scenes of serenity1       
whether created by  tasteful art1 or by 
the cunning hand of nature1 always      
bestow1 as a gift  from the imagination1
 tranquillity to the heart4 ,while a    
soft silence  breathes around me1 every 
object is pleasant to my view2 rural    
scenery  fixes my attention1 and        
dissipates the grief that lies heavy at 
my heart2  the loveliness of solitude   
enchants me1 and1 subduing every        
vexation1  inspires my soul with        

benevolence1 gratitude1 and content4 ,i 
return  thanks to my ,creator for       
endowing me with an imagination1 which1 
though  it has frequently caused the    
trouble of my life1 occasionally leads  
me1  in the hour of my retirement1 to   
some friendly rock1 on which ,i can     
climb1 and contemplate with greater     
composure the tempests ,i have escaped4 
,there are1 indeed1 many ,anglicised    
gardens in ,germany1 laid out so        
whimsically absurd1 as to excite no     
other emotions than those of laughter   
or disgust4 ,how extremely ridiculous is
 it to see a forest of poplars1         
scarcely sufficient to supply a chamber 
stove with fuel for a week2 mere        
molehills dignified with the name of    
mountains2 caves and aviaries1  in which
 tame and savage animals1 birds and     
amphibious creatures1 are  attempted to 
be represented in their native grandeur2
 bridges1 of various  kinds1 thrown     
across rivers1 which a couple of ducks  
would drink dry2 and  wooden fishes     

swimming in canals1 which the pump every
 morning supplies  with water6 ,these   
unnatural beauties are incapable of     
affording any  pleasure to the          
imagination4    ,a celebrated ,english  
writer has said1 that 8solitude1 on the 
first view  of it1 inspires the mind    
with terror1 because every thing that   
brings  with it the idea of privation is
 terrific1 and therefore sublime like   
space1 darkness1 and silence40    ,the  
species of greatness which results from 
the idea of infinity1 can  only be      
rendered delightful by being viewed at a
 proper distance4 ,the  ,alps1 in       
,swisserland1 and particularly near the 
canton of ,berne1 appear  inconceivably 
majestic2 but on a near approach1 they  
excite ideas  certainly sublime1 yet    
mingled with a degree of terror4 ,the   
eye1 on  beholding those immense and    
enormous masses piled one upon the      
other1  forming one vast and            
uninterrupted chain of mountains1 and   
rearing their  lofty summits to the     

skies1 conveys to the heart the most    
rapturous  delight1 while the succession
 of soft and lively shades which they   
throw around the scene1 tempers the     
impression1 and renders the view as     
agreeable as it is sublime4 ,on the     
contrary1 no feeling heart can on a     
close view1 behold this prodigious wall 
of rocks without experiencing           
involuntary trembling4 ,the mind        
contemplates with affright their        
eternal snows1 their steep ascents1     
their dark caverns1 the torrents  which 
precipitate themselves with deafening   
clamor from their summits1  the black   
forests of firs that overhang their     
sides1 and the enormous  fragments of   
rocks which time and tempests have torn 
away4 ,how my heart  thrilled when ,i   
first climbed through a steep and narrow
 track upon these  sublime deserts1     
discovering every step ,i made1 new     
mountains rising over  my head1 while   
upon the least stumble1 death menaced me
 in a thousand  shapes below6 ,but the  

imagination immediately kindles when you
 perceive  yourself in the midst of this
 grand scene of nature1 and reflect from
  these heights on the weakness of human
 power1 and the imbecility of the       
greatest monarchs6    ,the history of   
,swisserland evinces1 that the natives  
of these mountains  are not a degenerate
 race of men1 and that their sentiments 
are as  generous as their feelings are  
warm4 ,bold and spirited by nature1 the 
liberty they enjoy gives wings to their 
souls1 and they trample tyrants  and    
tyranny under their feet4 ,some of the  
inhabitants of ,swisserland1  indeed1   
are not perfectly free2 though they all 
possess notions of  liberty1 love their 
country1 and return thanks to the       
,almighty for that  happy tranquillity  
which permits each individual to live   
quietly under  his vine1 and enjoy the  
shade of his fig-tree2 but the most pure
 and  genuine liberty is always to be   
found among the inhabitants of these    
stupendous mountains4    ,the ,alps in  

,swisserland are inhabited by a race of 
men sometimes  unsocial1 but always good
 and generous4 ,the hardy and robust    
characters  given to them by the        
severity of their climate1 is softened  
by pastoral  life4 ,it is said by an    
,english writer1 that he who has never  
heard a  storm in the ,alps1 can form no
 idea of the continuity of the          
lightning1  the rolling and the burst of
 the thunder which roars round the      
horizon of  these immense mountains2 and
 the people never enjoying better       
habitations  than their own cabins1 nor 
seeing any other country than their own 
rocks1 believe the universe to be an    
unfinished work1 and a scene of         
unceasing tempest4 ,but the skies do not
 always lower2 the thunder does  not    
incessantly roll1 nor the lightnings    
continually flash2 immediately  after   
the most dreadful tempests1 the         
hemisphere clears itself by slow        
degrees1 and becomes serene4 ,the       
dispositions of the ,swiss follow the   

nature of their climate2 kindness       
succeeds to violence1 and generosity  to
 the most brutal fury3 this may be      
easily proved1 not only from the        
records of history1 but from recent     
facts4    ,general ,redin1 an inhabitant
 of the ,alps1 and a native of the      
canton of  ,schwitz1 enlisted very early
 in life into the ,swiss ,guards1 and   
attained  the rank of lieutenant-general
 in that corps4 ,his long residence at  
,paris  and ,versailles1 however1 had   
not been able to change his character2  
he  still continued a true ,swiss4 ,the 
new regulation made by the king of      
,france1 in the year #agfd1 relating to 
this corps1 gave great discontent  to   
the canton of ,schwitz4 ,the citizens1  
considering it as an innovation         
extremely prejudicial to their ancient  
privileges1 threw all the odium  of the 
measures on the lieutenant-general1     
whose wife1 at this period1  resided on 
his estate in the canton1 where she     
endeavored to raise a  number of young  

recruits2 but the sound of the ,french  
drum had become  so disgusting to the   
ears of the citizens1 that they beheld  
with  indignation the white cockade     
placed in the hats of the deluded       
peasants4  ,the magistrate apprehensive 
that this ferment might ultimately cause
  an insurrection among the people1 felt
 it his duty to forbid madame de  ,redin
 to continue her levies4 ,the lady      
requested he would certify his          
prohibition in writing2 but the         
magistrate not being disposed to carry  
matters to this extremity against the   
court of ,france1 she continued to  beat
 up for the requested number of         
recruits4 ,the inhabitants of the       
canton1 irritated by this bold defiance 
of the prohibition1 summoned a  ,general
 ,diet1 and madame de ,redin appeared   
before the ,assembly of ,four           
,thousand4 8,the drum10 said she1 8shall
 never cease to sound1 until you  give  
me such a certificate as may justify my 
husband to the ,french court  for not   

completing the number of his men40 ,the 
,assembly accordingly  granted her the  
required certificate1 and enjoining her 
to procure the  interest and            
interposition of her husband with the   
court in favor of her  injured country1 
waited in anxious expectation that his  
negotiation would  produce a favorable  
issue4 ,unhappily the court of          
,versailles rejected  all solicitation  
on the subject1 and by this means drove 
the irritated  and impatient inhabitants
 beyond the bounds of restraint4 ,the   
leading  men of the canton pretended    
that the new regulation endangered not  
only  their civil liberties1 but1 what  
was dearer to them1 their religion4 ,the
  general discontent was at length      
fomented into popular fury4 ,a ,general 
,diet was again assembled1 and it was   
publicly resolved not to furnish  the   
,king of ,france in future with any     
troops4 ,the treaty of alliance         
concluded in the year #agac was torn    
from the public register1 and general   

de ,redin ordered instantly to return   
from ,france with the soldiers under    
his command1 upon pain1 if he refused1  
of being irrevocably banished  from the 
republic4 ,the obedient general obtained
 permission from the  king to depart    
with his regiment from ,france1 and     
entering ,schwitz1  the metropolis of   
the canton1 at the head of his troops1  
with drums  beating and colors flying1  
marched immediately to the church1 where
 he  deposited his standards upon the   
great altar1 and falling on his knees1  
offered up his thanks to ,god4 ,rising  
from the ground1 and turning to his     
affectionate soldiers1 who were         
dissolved in tears1 he discharged their 
arrears of pay1 gave them their uniforms
 and accoutrements1 and bid  them       
forever farewell4 ,the fury of the      
populace1 on perceiving within  their   
power the man whom the whole country    
considered as the perfidious  abettor1  
and traitorous adviser1 of the new      
regulation1 by which the  court of      

,versailles had given such a mortal blow
 to the liberties of  the country1      
greatly increased2 and he was ordered to
 disclose before  the ,general ,assembly
 the origin of that measure1 and the    
means by which  it had been carried on1 
in order that they might learn their    
relative  situation with ,france1 and   
ascertain the degree of punishment that 
was due to the offender4 ,redin1        
conscious that1 under the existing      
circumstances1 eloquence would make no  
impression on minds so prejudiced       
against him1 contented himself with     
coolly declaring1 in a few words1  that 
the cause of framing a new regulation   
was publicly known1 and that  he was as 
innocent upon the subject as he was     
ignorant of the cause of  his           
dismission4 8,the traitor then will not 
confess60 exclaimed one of the  most    
furious members3 8,hang him on the next 
tree--cut him to pieces40  ,these       
menaces were instantly repeated         
throughout the ,assembly2 and while  the

 injured soldier continued perfectly    
tranquil and undismayed1 a party  of the
 people1 more daring than the rest1     
jumped upon the tribune1 where  he stood
 surrounded by the judges4 ,a young man1
 his godson1 was holding  a parapluie   
over his head1 to shelter him from the  
rain1 which at  this moment poured down 
in incessant torrents1 when one of the  
enraged  multitude immediately broke the
 parapluie in pieces with his stick1    
exclaiming1 8,let the traitor be        
uncovered60 ,this exclamation conveyed  
a correspondent indignation into the    
bosom of the youth1 who instantly       
replied1 8,my god-father a betrayer of  
his country6 ,oh6 ,i was ignorant1  ,i  
assure you1 of the crime alleged against
 him2 but since it is so1  let him      
perish6 ,where is the rope8 ,i will be  
first to put it round the  traitor's    
neck60 ,the magistrates instantly formed
 a circle round the  general1 and with  
uplifted hands exhorted him to avert the
 impending  danger1 by confessing that  

he had not opposed the measures of      
,france  with sufficient zeal1 and to   
offer to the offended people his whole  
fortune as an atonement for his neglect2
 representing to him that these  were   
the only means of redeeming his liberty1
 and perhaps his life4  ,the undaunted  
soldier1 with perfect tranquillity and  
composure1 walked  through the          
surrounding circle to the side of the   
tribune1 and while the  whole ,assembly 
anxiously expected to hear an ample     
confession of his  guilt1 made a sign of
 silence with his hand3                 
8,fellow-citizens10 said  he1 8you are  
not ignorant that ,i have been          
two-and-forty years in the  ,french     
establishment4 ,you know1 and many among
 you1 who were with me in  the service1 
can testify its truth1 how often ,i have
 faced the enemy1  and the manner in    
which ,i conducted myself in battle4 ,i 
considered every  engagement as the last
 day of my life4 ,but here ,i protest to
 you1 in the  presence of that ,almighty

 ,being who knows all our hearts1 who   
listens  to all our words1 and who will 
hereafter judge all our actions1 that ,i
  never appeared before an enemy with a 
mind more pure1 a conscience more       
tranquil1 a heart more innocent1 than at
 present ,i possess2 and if it  is your 
pleasure to condemn me because ,i refuse
 to confess a treachery  of which ,i    
have not been guilty1 ,i am now ready to
 resign my life into  your hands40 ,the 
dignified demeanor with which the       
general made this  declaration1 and the 
air of truth which accompanied his      
words1 calmed the  fury of the          
,assembly1 and saved his life4 ,both he 
and his wife1 however1  immediately     
quitted the canton2 she entering into a 
convent at ,uri1 and  he retiring to a  
cavern among the rocks1 where he lived  
two years in  solitude4 ,time1 at       
length1 subdued the anger of the people1
 and softened  the general's sense of   
their injustice4 ,he returned to the    
bosom of  his country1 rewarded its     

ingratitude by the most signal services1
 and  made every individual recollect   
and acknowledge the integrity of their  
magnanimous countryman4 ,to recompense  
him for the injuries and injustice  he  
had suffered1 they elected him bailli1  
or chief officer of the canton2  and    
afforded him an almost singular instance
 of their constancy and  affection1 by  
successively conferring on him three    
times this high and  important dignity4 
,this is the characteristic disposition 
of the ,swiss  who inhabit the ,alps2   
alternately violent and mild3 and       
experiencing1 as  the extremes of a     
delighted or vexed imagination happen to
 prevail1 the  same vicissitudes as     
their climate4 ,the rude scenes of      
greatness which  these stupendous       
mountains and vast deserts afford1      
render the ,swiss  violent in sentiment1
 and rough in manners2 while the        
tranquillity of  their fields1 and the  
smiling beauties of their vallies1      
soften their  minds1 and render their   

hearts kind and benevolent4    ,english 
artists confess that the aspect of      
nature in ,swisserland is too  sublime  
and majestic for the pencil of art      
faithfully to reach2 but how  exquisite 
must be the enjoyments they feel upon   
those romantic hills1  in those         
delightful vallies1 upon the charming   
borders of those still  and transparent 
lakes1 where nature unfolds her various 
charms1 and  appears in the highest pomp
 and splendor2 where the majestic oaks1 
the  deep embowering elms1 and dark     
green firs1 which cover and adorn these 
immense forests1 are pleasingly         
interspersed with myrtles1 almond trees1
  jasmines1 pomegranates1 and vines1    
which offer their humbler beauties to   
the view1 and variegate the scene6      
,nature is in no country of the globe   
more rich and various than in           
,swisserland4 ,it was the scenery around
  ,zurich1 and the beauties of its      
adjoining lake1 that first inspired the 
,idylls of the immortal ,gessner4       

,these sublime beauties1 while they     
elevate and inflame the heart1 give     
greater action and life to the          
imagination than softer scenes2 in like 
manner as a fine night affords a more   
august and solemn spectacle than  the   
mildest day4    ,in coming from         
,frescati1 by the borders of the small  
lake of ,nemi1 which  lies in a deep    
valley1 so closely sheltered by         
mountains and forest1  that the winds   
are scarcely permitted to disturb its   
surface1 it is  impossible not to       
exclaim with an ,english poet1 that     
here--        8,black melancholy sits1  
and round her throws      ,a death-like 
silence1 and a dread repose3      ,her  
gloomy presence saddens all the scene1  
,shades every flower1 and darkens every 
green2      ,deepens the murmurs of the 
falling floods1      ,and breathes a    
browner horror on the woods40    ,but   
how the soul expands1 and every thought 
becomes serene and free1  when1 from the
 garden of the ,capuchins1 near ,albano1

 the eye suddenly  discovers the little 
melancholy lake1 with ,frescati and all 
its rural  vallies on one side3 on the  
other1 the handsome city of ,albano1 the
  village and castle of ,riccia and     
,gensano1 with their hills beautifully  
adorned with clusters of the richest    
vines3 below1 the extensive plains  of  
,campania1 in the middle of which ,rome1
 formerly the mistress of the  world1   
raises its majestic head2 and lastly1   
beyond all these objects1  the hills of 
,tivoli1 the ,appenines1 and the        
,mediterranean sea6    ,how often1 on   
the approach of spring1 has the         
magnificent valley1 where  the ruins of 
the residence of ,rodolpho de ,hapsburg 
rise upon the side  of a hill1 crowned  
with woods of variegated verdure1       
afforded me the  purest and most        
ineffable delight6 ,there the rapid ,aar
 descends in  torrents from the lofty   
mountains2 sometimes forming a vast     
basin in the  vale2 at others1          
precipitating through the narrow        

passages across the  rocks1 winding its 
course majestically through the middle  
of the vast  and fertile plains3 on the 
other side the ,ruffs1 and1 lower down1 
the  ,limmat1 bring their tributary     
streams1 and peaceably unite them with  
the waters of the ,aar4 ,in the middle  
of this rich and verdant scene1 ,i      
beheld the ,royal ,solitude1 where the  
remains of the emperor ,albert ,i4      
repose in silence1 with those of many   
princes of the house of ,austria1       
counts1 knights1 and gentlemen1 killed  
in battle by the gallant ,swiss4 ,at  a 
distance ,i discovered the valley where 
lie the ruins of the celebrated  city of
 ,vindonissa1 upon which ,i have        
frequently sat1 and reflected upon  the 
vanity of human greatness4 ,beyond this 
magnificent country1 ancient  castles   
raise their lofty heads upon the hills6 
and the far distant  horizon is         
terminated by the sublime summits of the
 ,alps4 ,in the midst of  all this grand
 scenery1 my eyes were instinctively    

cast down into the  deep valley         
immediately below me1 and continually   
fixed upon the little  village where ,i 
first drew my breath4 ,it is thus that  
the sublime or  beautiful operates      
differently on the heart6 the one       
exciting fear and  terror1 the other    
creating only soft and agreeable        
sensations2 but both  tending to enlarge
 the sphere of the imagination1 and     
enabling us more  completely to seek    
enjoyment within ourselves4             
,pleasures of this description may1     
indeed be enjoyed1 without visiting  the
 romantic solitudes of either           
,swisserland or ,italy4 ,there is no    
person who may not1 while he is quietly 
traversing the hills and dales1  learn  
to feel how much the aspect of nature   
may1 by the assistance of  the          
imagination1 affect the heart4 ,a fine  
view1 the freshness of the  air1 an     
unclouded sky1 and the joys of the      
chase1 give sensations of  health1 and  
make every step seem too short4 ,the    

privation of all ideas  of dependance1  
accompanied by domestic comfort1 useful 
employments1 and  innocent recreations1 
produce a strength of thought1 and      
fertility of  imagination1 which present
 to the mind the most agreeable images1 
and  touch the heart with the most      
delightful sensations4 ,it is certainly 
true1 that a person possessed of a fine 
imagination may be much happier  in     
prison1 than he could possibly be       
without imagination amidst the  most    
magnificent scenery4 ,but even to a mind
 deprived of this happy  faculty1 the   
lowest enjoyments of rural life1 even   
the common scenery of  harvest time1 is 
capable of performing miracles on his   
heart4 ,alas6 who  has not experienced1 
in the hours of langor and disgust1 the 
powerful  effects which a contemplation 
of the pleasures that surround the      
poorest  peasant's cot is capable of    
affording6 ,how fondly the heart        
participates  in all his homely joys6   
,with what freedom1 cordiality1 and     

kindness1 we  take him by the hand1 and 
listen to his innocent and artless      
tales6--,how  suddenly do we feel an    
interest in all his little concerns2 an 
interest  which1 while it unveils1      
refines and meliorates the latent       
inclinations  of our hearts6    ,the    
tranquillity of retired life1 and the   
view of rural scenes1  frequently       
produce a quietude of disposition1      
which1 while it renders  the noisy      
pleasures of the world insipid1 enables 
the heart to seek the  charms of        
solitude with increased delight4    ,the
 happy indolence peculiar to ,italians1 
who1 under the pleasures of  a clear1   
unclouded sky1 are always poor but never
 miserable1 greatly  augments the       
feelings of the heart3 the mildness of  
the climate1 the  fertility of their    
soil1 their peaceful religion1 and their
 contented  nature1 compensate for every
 thing4 ,dr4 ,moore1 an ,english        
traveller1  whose works afford me great 
delight1 says1 that 8the ,italians are  

the  greatest loungers in the world2 and
 while walking in the fields1 or        
stretched in the shade1 seem to enjoy   
the serenity and genial warmth  of their
 climate with a degree of luxurious     
indulgence peculiar to  themselves4     
,without ever running into the daring   
excesses of the ,english1  or displaying
 the frisky vivacity of the ,french1 or 
the stubborn phlegm  of the ,germans1   
the ,italian populace discover a species
 of sedate  sensibility to every source 
of enjoyment1 from which1 perhaps1 they 
derive a greater degree of happiness    
than any of the others40    ,relieved   
from every afflicting and tormenting    
object1 it is1 perhaps1  impossible for 
the mind not to resign itself to        
agreeable chimeras  and romantic        
sentiments3 but this situation          
notwithstanding these  disadvantages1   
has its fair side4 ,romantic            
speculations may lead the mind  into    
certain extravagancies and errors from  
whence base and contemptible  passions  

may be engendered2 may habituate it to a
 light and frivolous  style of thinking2
 and1 by preventing it from directing   
its faculties  to rational ends1 may    
obscure the prospect of true happiness2 
for the  soul cannot easily quit the    
illusion on which it dwells with such   
fond  delight2 the ordinary duties of   
life1 with its more noble and           
substantial  pleasures1 are perhaps     
thereby obstructed3 but it is very      
certain that  romantic sentiments do not
 always render the mind that possesses  
them  unhappy4 ,who1 alas6 is so        
completely happy in reality as he       
frequently  has been in imagination6    
,rousseau1 who1 in the early part of his
 life1 was extremely fond of  romances1 
feeling his mind hurried away by the    
love of those imaginary  objects with   
which that species of composition       
abounds1 and perceiving  the facility   
with which they may be enjoyed1 withdrew
 his attention from  every thing about  
him1 and by this circumstance laid the  

foundation of  that taste for solitude  
which he preserved to an advanced period
 of  his life2 a taste in appearance    
dictated by depression and disgust1  and
 attributed by him to the irresistible  
impulse of an affectionate1  fond1 and  
tender heart1 which1 not being able to  
find in the regions of  philosophy and  
truth sentiments sufficiently warm and  
animated1 was  constrained to seek its  
enjoyments in the sphere of fiction4    
,but the imagination1 may1 in           
retirement1 indulge its wanderings to a 
certain degree without the risk of      
injuring either the sentiments of the   
mind or the sensations of the heart4    
,oh6 if the friends of my youth in      
,swisserland knew how frequently1 during
 the silence of the night1 ,i pass  with
 them those hours which are allotted to 
sleep2 if they were apprized  that      
neither time nor absence can efface the 
remembrance of their former  kindness   
from my mind1 and that this pleasing    
recollection tends to  dissipate my     

grief1 and to cast the veil of oblivion 
over my woes2 they  would1 perhaps1 also
 rejoice to find that ,i still live     
among them in  imagination1 though ,i   
may be dead to them in reality4    ,the 
solitary man1 whose heart is warmed with
 refined and noble  sentiments1 cannot  
be unhappy4--,while the stupid and      
vulgar bewail his  fate1 and conceive   
him to be the victim of corroding care  
and loathed  melancholy1 he frequently  
tastes the most delightful pleasure4    
,the ,french  entertained a notion that 
,rousseau was a man of a gloomy and     
dejected  disposition2 but he was       
certainly not so for many years of his  
life1  particularly when he wrote to ,m4
 de ,malesherbes1 the chancellor's son1 
in the following terms3 8,i cannot      
express to you1 ,sir1 how sensibly ,i am
  affected by perceiving that you think 
me the most unhappy of mankind2  for as 
the public will1 no doubt1 entertain the
 same sentiment of me as  you do1 it is 
to me a source of real affliction6--,oh6

 if my sentiments  were really known1   
every individual would endeavor to      
follow my example4  ,peace would then   
reign throughout the world2 men would no
 longer seek to  destroy each other2 and
 wickedness1 by removing the great      
incentives to  it1 no longer exist4 ,but
 it may be asked1 how ,i could find     
employment  in solitude8--,i answer1 in 
my own mind2 in the whole universe2 in  
every  thing that dies1 in every thing  
that can exist2 in all that the eye     
finds  beautiful in the real1 or the    
imagination in the intellectual world4  
,i assembled about me every thing that  
is flattering to the heart1 and         
regulated my pleasures by the moderation
 of my desires4 ,no6 ,the most          
voluptuous have never experienced such  
refined delights2 and ,i have  always   
enjoyed my chimeras much more than if   
they had been realized40    ,this is    
certainly the language of enthusiasm2   
but1 ye stupid vulgar6  who would not   
prefer the warm fancy of this amiable   

philosopher to your  cold and creeping  
understandings8--,who would not         
willingly renounce your  vague          
conversation1 your deceitful felicities1
 your boasted urbanity1  your noisy     
assemblies1 puerile pastimes1 and       
inveterate prejudices1 for a  quiet and 
contented life in the bosom of a happy  
family8--,who would not  rather seek in 
the silence of the woods1 or upon the   
daisied borders of a  peaceful lake1    
those pure and simple pleasures of      
nature1 so delicious in  recollection1  
and productive of joys so pure1 so      
affecting1 so different  from your own8 
,eclogues1 which are representatives of 
rural happiness in its highest          
perfection1 are also fictions2 but they 
are fictions of the most pleasing  and  
agreeable kind4 ,true felicity must be  
sought in retirement1 where  the soul1  
disengaged from the torments of the     
world1 no longer feels  those artificial
 desires which render it unhappy both in
 prospect and  fruition4 ,content with  

little1 satisfied with all1 surrounded  
by love  and innocence1 we perceive in  
retirement1 the golden age1 as described
  by the poets1 revived2 while in the   
world every one regrets its loss4  ,the 
regret however1 is unjust2 for those    
enjoyments were not peculiar to  that   
happy period2 and each individual may1  
whenever he pleases1 form his  own      
,arcadia4 ,the beauties of a crystal    
spring1 a silent grove1 a daisied       
meadow1 chasten the feelings of the     
heart1 and afford at all times1 to      
those who have a taste for nature1 a    
permanent and pure delight4    8,the    
origin of poetry10 says ,pope1 8is      
ascribed to that age which  succeeded   
the creation of the world3 as the       
keeping of flocks seems to  have been   
the first employment of mankind1 the    
most ancient sort of  poetry was        
pastoral4 ,it is natural to imagine1    
that the leisure of these  ancient      
shepherds admitting and inviting some   
diversion1 none was so  proper to that  

solitary and sedentary life as singing1 
and that in their  songs they took      
occasion to celebrate their own         
felicity4 ,from hence a  poem was       
invented1 and afterward improved to a   
perfect image of that  happy time1      
which1 by giving us an esteem for the   
virtues of a former  age1 might         
recommend them to the present40         
,these agreeable though fictitious      
descriptions of the age of innocence    
and virtue1 communicate joy and gladness
 to our hearts2 and we bless  the poet1 
who1 in the ecstacy of his felicity     
contributes to render  others as happy  
as himself4 ,sicily and ,zurich have    
produced two of these  benefactors to   
mankind4 ,the aspect of nature never    
appears more charming1  the bosom never 
heaves with such sweet delight1 the     
heart never beats  more pleasantly1 the 
soul never feels more perfect happiness 
than is  produced by reading the ,idylls
 of ,theocritus and ,gessner4    ,by    
these easy simple modes the beauties of 

nature are made1 by the  assistance of  
the imagination1 to operate forcibly on 
the heart4 ,the  mind1 indeed1 drawn    
away by these agreeable images1 often   
resigns itself  too easily to the       
illusions of romance2 but the ideas they
 create  generally amend the heart      
without injuring the understanding1 and 
spread  some of the sweetest flowers    
along the most thorny paths of human    
life4    ,leisure1 the highest happiness
 upon earth1 is seldom enjoyed with     
perfect  satisfaction1 except in        
solitude4 ,indolence and indifference do
 not  always afford leisure3 for true   
leisure is frequently found in that     
interval of relaxation which divides a  
painful duty from the agreeable         
occupations of literature and           
philosophy4 ,p4 ,scipio was of this     
opinion  when he said1 that he was never
 less idle when he had most leisure1 and
  that he was never less alone than when
 he was alone4 ,leisure is not  to be   
considered a state of intellectual      

torpidity1 but a new incentive  to      
further activity2 it is sought by strong
 and energetic minds1 not  as an end1   
but as a means of restoring lost        
activity2 for whoever  seeks happiness  
in a situation merely quiescent1 seeks  
for a phantom  that will elude his      
grasp4 ,leisure will never be found in  
mere rest2 but  will follow those who   
seize the first impulse to activity2 in 
which1  however1 such employments as    
best suit the extent and nature of      
different  capacities1 must be preferred
 to those which promise compensation    
without  labor1 and enjoyment without   
pain4    ,thus rural retirement dries up
 those streams of discontent which flow 
so  plentifully through public life2    
changes most frequently the bitterest   
feeling into the sweetest pleasures2 and
 inspires an ecstacy and content        
unknown to the votaries of the world4   
,the tranquillity of nature buries  in  
oblivion the criminal inclinations of   
the heart2 renders it blithe1  tender1  

open1 and confident2 and1 by wisely     
managing the passions1 and  preventing  
an overheated imagination from          
fabricating fancied woes1  strengthens  
in it every virtuous sensation4    ,in  
towns1 the solitude which is necessary  
to produce this advantage  cannot be    
conveniently practised4 ,it seems       
indeed1 no very difficult task  for a   
man to retire into his chamber1 and by  
silent contemplation1 to  raise his mind
 above the mean consideration of sensual
 objects2 but few  men have sufficient  
resolution to perform it2 for1 within   
doors1 matters  of business every moment
 occur1 and interrupt the chain of      
reflection2  and without1 whether alone 
or in company1 a variety of accidents   
may  occasionally happen1 which will    
confound our vain wisdom1 aggravate the 
painful feelings of the heart1 and      
weaken the finer powers of the mind4    
,rousseau was always miserable during   
his residence at ,paris4 ,this          
extraordinary genius1 it is true1 wrote 

his immortal works in that  agitated    
metropolis2 but the moment he quitted   
his study1 and  wandered through the    
streets1 his mind was bewildered by a   
variety of  heterogeneous sentiments1   
his recollection vanished2 and this     
brilliant  writer and profound          
philosopher1 who was so intimately      
acquainted with  the most intricate     
labyrinths of the human heart1 was      
reduced to the  condition of a child4   
,but in the country we issue from the   
house in  perfect safety1 and feel      
increasing cheerfulness and             
satisfaction4 ,tired  with meditation1  
the rural recluse has only to open the  
doors of his  study1 and enjoy his walk1
 while tranquillity attends his steps1  
and new  pleasures present themselves to
 his view on every turn4 ,beloved by all
  around him1 he extends his hand with  
cordial affection to every man he       
meets4 ,nothing occurs to vex and       
irritate his mind4 ,he runs no risk of  
being tortured by the supercilious      

behavior of some haughty female proud   
of her descent1 or of enduring the      
arrogant egotism of an upstart peer3  is
 in no danger of being crushed beneath  
the rolling carriages of ,indian        
nabobs3 nor dares frontless vice1 on the
 authority of mouldy parchments1  attack
 his property1 or presumptuous ignorance
 offer the least indignity  to his      
modest virtue4    ,a man1 indeed1 by    
avoiding the tumultuous intercourse of  
society1 and  deriving his comforts from
 his own breast1 may1 even in ,paris1 or
 any  other metropolis1 avoid these     
unpleasant apprehensions1 if his nerves 
be  firm1 and his constitution strong3  
for to a frame disjointed by nervous    
affections every object is irritating1  
and every passion tremblingly  alive4   
,the passions are the gales by which man
 must steer his course  through the     
troubled ocean of life2 they fill the   
sails which give motion  to the soul2   
and when they become turbulent and      
impetuous1 the vessel  is always in     

danger1 and generally runs aground4 ,the
 petty cares and  trifling vexations of 
life1 however1 give but shortlived      
disturbance  to a heart free from       
remorse4 ,philosophy teaches us to      
forget past  uneasiness1 to forbear idle
 speculations of approaching felicity1  
and to  rest contented with present     
comforts1 without refining away our     
existing  happiness by wishing that     
which is really good to be still better4
  ,every thing is much better than we   
imagine4 ,a mind too anxious in the     
expectation of happiness is seldom      
satisfied1 and generally mixes with  its
 highest fruition a certain portion of  
discontent4 ,the stream of  content must
 flow from a deliberate disposition in  
our minds to learn  what is good1 and a 
determined resolution to seek for and   
enjoy it1  however small the portion may
 be4    ,the content1 however1 which men
 in general so confidently expect to    
find  in rural retirement1 is not to be 
acquired by viewing objects either with 

indiscriminate admiration or supine     
indifference4 ,he who without labor1    
and without a system of conduct         
previously digested and arranged1 hopes 
for happiness in solitude1 will yawn    
with equal fatigue at his cottage  in   
the country and his mansion in town2    
while he who keeps himself  continually 
employed1 may in the deepest solitude1  
by the mere dint of  labor1 attain true 
tranquillity and happiness4             
,petrarch1 in his solitude at ,vaucluse1
 would have experienced this            
tranquillity1 if his bosom had not been 
disturbed by love2 for he  perfectly    
understood the art of managing his time4
 8,i rise10 said he1  8before the sun1  
and on the approach of day wander       
contemplatively  along the fields1 or   
retire to study4 ,i read1 ,i write1 ,i  
think1 ,i  vanquish indolence1 banish   
sleep1 avoid luxury1 and forget         
sensuality4  ,from morning till night ,i
 climb the barren mountains1 traverse   
the  humid vallies1 seek the deepest    

caves1 or walk1 accompanied only by my  
thoughts1 along the banks of my river4  
,i have no society to distract my  mind2
 and men daily become less annoying to  
me2 for ,i place them either  far before
 or far behind me4 ,i recollect what is 
past1 and contemplate  on what is to    
come4 ,i have found an excellent        
expedient to detach my mind  from the   
world4 ,i cultivate a fondness for my   
place of residence1 and ,i  am persuaded
 that ,i could be happy any where except
 at ,avignon4 ,in my  retreat at        
,vaucluse1 where ,i am at present1 ,i   
occasionally find ,athens1  ,rome1 or   
,florence1 as the one or the other of   
those places happens  to please the     
prevailing disposition of my mind4 ,here
 ,i enjoy all my  friends1 as well as   
those who have long since entered the   
vale of death1  and of whom ,i have no  
knowledge1 but what their works afford40
    ,what character1 however luxurious1 
ever felt the same content at any       
splendid entertainment1 as ,rousseau    

experienced in his humble meal6 8,i     
return home10 says he1 8with tired feet1
 but with a contented mind1 and         
experience the calmest repose in        
resigning myself to the impression of   
objects1 without exercising thought1    
indulging imagination1 or doing any     
thing to interrupt the peaceful felicity
 of my station4 ,the table is  ready    
spread on my lawn1 and furnished with   
refreshments4 ,surrounded by  my small  
and happy family1 ,i eat my supper with 
healthy appetite1 and  without any      
appearance of servitude or dependance to
 annoy the love and  kindness by which  
we are united4 ,my faithful dog is not a
 subservient  slave1 but a firm friend1 
from whom1 as we always feel the same   
inclination1 ,i never exact obedience4  
,the gaiety of the mind throughout  the 
evening testifies that ,i live alone    
throughout the day2 for1 being  seldom  
pleased with others1 and never1 when    
visiters have disturbed me1  with       
myself1 ,i sit1 during the whole evening

 of the day when company  has           
interrupted me1 either grumbling or in  
silence3 so at least my good            
housekeeper has remarked2 and since she 
mentioned it1 ,i have from my  own      
observation found it universally true4  
,having thus made my humble  and        
cheerful meal1 ,i take a few turns round
 my little garden1 or play  some        
favorite air upon my spinette1 and      
experience upon my pillow a soft        
content1 more sweet1 if possible1 than  
even undisturbed repose40    ,at the    
village of ,richterswyl1 situated a few 
leagues from ,zurich1 and  surrounded by
 every object the most smiling1         
beautiful1 and romantic  that           
,swisserland presents1 dwells a         
celebrated physician4 ,his soul1 like   
the scenery of nature which surrounds   
him1 is tranquil and sublime4  ,his     
habitation is the temple of health1 of  
friendship1 and of every  peaceful      
virtue4 ,the village rises on the       
borders of the lake1 at a place  where  

two projecting points form a fine bay of
 nearly half a league4 ,on  the opposite
 shores1 the lake1 which is not quite a 
league in extent1  is enclosed from the 
north to the east by pleasant hills     
covered with  vineyards1 intermixed with
 fertile meadows1 orchards1 fields1     
groves1 and  thickets1 with little      
hamlets1 churches1 villas1 and cottages 
scattered  up and down the scene4 ,a    
wide and magnificent amphitheatre1 which
 no  artist has yet attempted to paint1 
except in detached scenes1 opens  itself
 from the east to the south4 ,the view  
towards the higher part of  the lake1   
which on this side is four leagues long1
 presents to the eye  jutting points of 
land1 detached aytes1 the little town of
 ,rapperschwyl1  built on the side of a 
hill1 and a bridge which reaches from   
one side  of the lake to the other4     
,beyond the town the inexhaustible      
valley  extends itself in a half circle 
to the sight2 and upon the foreground   
rises a peak of land which swells as it 

extends into beautiful hills4  ,behind  
them1 at the distance of about half a   
league1 is a range of  mountains covered
 with trees and verdure1 and            
interspersed with villages  and detached
 houses2 beyond which1 at a still       
greater distance1 are  discovered the   
fertile and majestic ,alps1 twisted one 
among the other1  and exhibiting1       
alternately1 shades of the lightest and 
darkest azure3  and in the back ground  
high rocks1 covered with eternal snows1 
lift  their towering heads1 and touch   
the skies4 ,on the south side of this   
rich1 enchanting1 and incomparable      
scene1 the amphitheatre is extended  by 
another range of mountains reaching     
toward the west2 and at the  feet of    
these mountains1 on the borders of the  
lake1 lies the village  of ,richterswyl1
 surrounded by rich fallows and fertile 
pastures1 and  overhung by forests of   
firs4 ,the streets of the village1 which
 in itself  is extremely clean1 are     
nearly paved2 and the houses1 which are 

mostly  built of stone1 are painted on  
the outside4 ,pleasant walks are formed 
along the banks of the lake1 and lead   
quite round the town1 through  groves of
 fruit-trees and shady forests1 up to   
the very summit of the  hills4 ,the     
traveller1 struck with the sublime and  
beautiful scenery that  every where     
surrounds him1 stops to contemplate with
 eager curiosity  the increasing        
beauties which ravish his sight2 and    
while his bosom  swells with excess of  
pleasure1 his suspended breath bespeaks 
his fear  of interrupting the fulness of
 his delight4 ,every acre of this       
charming  country is in the highest     
state of cultivation and improvement4   
,every  hand is at work2 and men1 women1
 and children1 of every age and of every
  description1 are all usefully         
employed4    ,the two houses of the     
physician are each of them surrounded by
 a garden2  and although situated in the
 centre of the village1 are as rurally  
sequestered as if they had been built in

 the bosom of the country4  ,through the
 gardens1 and close beneath the chamber 
of my valued friend1  runs a pure and   
limpid stream1 on the opposite of which1
 at an agreeable  distance1 is the high 
road2 where1 almost daily1 numbers of   
pilgrims  successively pass in their way
 to the hermitage4 ,from the windows of 
these houses1 and from every part of the
 gardens1 you behold1 toward the  south1
 at the distance of about a league1 the 
majestic ,ezelberg rear its  lofty head1
 which is concealed in forests of deep  
green firs2 while on  its declivity     
hangs a neat little village1 with a     
handsome church1 upon  the steeple of   
which the sun suspends his departing    
rays1 and shows its  career is nearly   
finished4 ,in the front is the lake of  
,zurich1 whose  peaceful water is       
secured from the violence of tempests1  
and whose  transparent surface reflects 
the beauties of its delightful banks4   
,during the silence of the night1 if you
 repair to the chamber windows  of this 

enchanting mansion1 or walk through its 
gardens1 to taste the  exhaling         
fragrance of the shrubs and flowers1    
while the moon1 rising  in unclouded    
majesty over the summit of the          
mountains1 reflects on the  smooth      
surface of the water a broad beam of    
light1 you hear1 during this  awful     
sleep of nature1 the sound of the       
village clocks1 echoing from the        
opposite shores2 and1 on the            
,richterswyl side1 the shrill           
proclamation  of the watchmen1 blended  
occasionally with the barkings of the   
faithful  house-dog4 ,at a distance you 
hear the boats gliding gently along the 
stream1 dividing the water with their   
oars1 and perceive them1 as they  cross 
the moon's translucent beam1 playing    
among the sparkling waves4    ,riches   
and luxury are no where to be seen in   
the happy habitation of this  wise      
philanthropist4 ,his chairs are made of 
straw2 his tables are worked  from the  
wood of the country2 and the plates and 

dishes on which he  entertains his      
friends are all of earthen-ware4        
,neatness and convenience  reign        
throughout4 ,drawings1 paintings1 and   
engravings1 of which he has a  large    
well-chosen collection1 are his sole    
expense4 ,the earliest beams  of ,aurora
 light the humble apartment where this  
philosophic sage sleeps  in undisturbed 
repose1 and awake him to new enjoyments 
every day4 ,as he  rises from his bed1  
the cooing of the turtle-doves1 and the 
morning songs  of various kinds of      
birds1 who make their nightly nests in  
an adjoining  aviary1 salute his ears1  
and welcome his approach4 ,the first    
hour of the  morning1 and the last at   
night1 are sacred to himself2 but he    
devotes all  the intermediate hours of  
every day to a sick and afflicted       
multitude1  who daily attend him for    
advice and assistance4 ,the benevolent  
exercise  of his professional skill1    
indeed1 engrosses almost every moment of
 his  life1 but it constitutes his      

highest happiness and joy4 ,the         
inhabitants  of the mountains of        
,swisserland1 and of the vallies of the 
,alps1 flock to  his house1 and endeavor
 in vain to find language capable of    
expressing  to him the grateful feelings
 of their hearts for the favors they    
receive  from him4 ,convinced of his    
affection1 satisfied of his medical     
skill1  and believing that the good     
doctor is equally well acquainted with  
every  subject1 they listen with the    
deepest attention to his words1 answer  
all his inquiries without the least     
hesitation or reserve1 treasure up  his 
advice and counsel with more solicitude 
than if they were grains  of gold1 and  
depart from his presence with more      
regret1 comfort1 hope1  resignation1 and
 virtuous feelings1 than if they had    
quitted their  confessor at the         
hermitage4 ,it may perhaps be conceived1
 that after a day  spent in this manner1
 the happiness which this friend to     
mankind must  feel cannot in any degree 

be increased4 ,but1 when a simple1      
innocent1  and ingenuous country girl1  
whose mind has been almost distracted by
 the  fear of losing her beloved        
husband1 enters his study1 and seizing  
him  with transport by the hand1        
joyfully exclaims1 8,oh6 ,sir1 my dear  
husband1  ill as he was only two days   
since1 is now quite recovered6 ,oh6 my  
dear  ,sir1 how1 how shall ,i thank     
you60 this philanthropic character feels
 that  transcending felicity1 which     
ought to fill the bosom of a monarch in 
rendering happiness to his people4      
,of this description is the country of  
,swisserland1 where doctor ,hotze1  the 
ablest physician of the present age1    
resides2 a physician and  philosopher1  
whose variety of knowledge1 profound    
judgment1 and great  experience1 have   
raised him to an equal eminence with    
,trissot and  ,hirtzel1 the dearest     
friends of my heart4 ,it is in this     
manner that he  passes the hours of his 
life1 with uniformity and happiness4    

,surrounded1  except during the two     
hours ,i have already mentioned1 by a   
crowd of  unfortunate fellow-creatures1 
who look up to him for relief1 his mind1
  active and full of vigor1 never knows 
repose2 but his labors are richly       
rewarded by the high and refined        
felicity which fills his heart4         
,palaces1  alas6 seldom contain such    
characters4 ,individuals1 however1 of   
every  description may cultivate and    
enjoy an equal degree of felicity1      
although  they do not reside among      
scenes so delightful as those which     
surround my  beloved ,hotze at          
,richterswyl1 as those of the convent of
 ,capuchins near  ,albano1 or as those  
which surround the rural retreat of my  
sovereign  ,george ,,iii4 at ,windsor4  
,content can only be found in the       
tranquillity of the heart2 and in       
solitude the bosom gladly opens to      
receive the wished-for inmate1 and to   
welcome its attendant virtues4 ,while   
nature smiles around us1 decorated  in  

all its beauties1 the heart expands to  
the cheering scene2 every  object       
appears in the most favorable and       
pleasing point of view2 our  souls      
overflow with kind affections2 the      
antipathies created by the  ingratitude 
of the world instantly vanish2 we even  
forget the vain1 the  wicked1 the       
profligate characters with whom we were 
mixed2 and being  perfectly at peace    
with ourselves1 we feel ourselves at    
peace with all  mankind4 ,but in society
 the rancorous contention which jarring 
interests  daily create1 the heavy yoke 
which subordination is continually      
imposing1  8the oppressor's wrong1 the  
proud man's contumely10 and the shocks  
which  reason and good sense hourly     
receive from fools in power1 and        
insolent  superiors1 spread torrents of 
misery over human life1 embitter the    
happiness of their more worthy though   
inferior fellow-creatures1 poison  all  
pleasure1 break through social order1   
spread thorns in the paths of  virtue1  

and render the world a vale of tears4   
,blockheads in power are of all other   
characters1 the most baneful and        
injurious2 they confound all just       
distinctions1 mistake one quality  for  
another2 degrade every person and thing 
to their own level2 and  in short1      
change white into black1 and black into 
white4 ,to escape  from the persecution 
of such characters1 men even of fine    
talents and  ingenious dispositions must
 act like the fox of ,saadi1 of the     
,persian  poet4 ,a person one day       
observing a fox running with uncommon   
speed to  earth1 called out to him1     
8,reynard1 where are you running in so  
great a  hurry6 ,have you been doing any
 mischief1 for which you are            
apprehensive  of punishment80--8,no1    
,sir10 replied the fox1 8my conscience  
is perfectly  clear1 and does not       
reproach me with any thing2 but ,i have 
just overheard  the hunters wish that   
they had a camel to hunt this           
morning40--8,well1  but how does that   

concern you8 you are not a              
camel40--8,oh1 my good  ,sir10 replied  
the fox1 8are you not aware that        
sagacious heads have  always enemies at 
their heels8 and if any one should point
 me out to  those sportsmen1 and cry1   
there runs a camel1 they would          
immediately  seize me without examining 
whether ,i was really the kind of animal
 the  informer had described me to be40 
,reynard was certainly right in his     
conclusion2 for men are in general      
wicked in proportion as they are        
ignorant or envious1 and the only means 
of eluding their mischievous  intentions
 is to keep out of their way4    ,the   
simplicity1 regularity1 and serenity    
which accompany retirement1  moderate   
the warmest tempers1 guard the heart    
against the intrusion of  inordinate    
desires1 and at length render it        
invulnerable to the shafts of  malice   
and detraction2 while the               
self-examination it necessarily imposes1
  teaches us1 by exhibiting to our view 

our own defects1 to do justice  to the  
superior merit of others4 ,the          
delightful solitudes of ,lausanne       
exhibit every where captivating examples
 of domestic felicity4 ,the  industrious
 citizen1 after having faithfully       
performed his daily task1 is  sure of   
experiencing1 on his return at evening  
to his wife and children1  real comfort 
and unalloyed content4 ,the voice of    
slander1 the neglect  of ingratitude1   
the contempt of superiors1 and all the  
mortifications  attendant upon worldly  
intercourse1 are forgot the moment he   
beholds his  happy family ready with    
open arms to receive him1 and to bestow 
upon  their friend and benefactor the   
fond caresses he so justly merits4 ,with
  what exquisite delight his beating    
bosom feels their rapturous affection4  
,if his mind has been vexed by the      
crosses of life1 the ostentation of     
courts1 the insolence of riches1 the    
arrogance of power1 or his temper       
irritated and soured by the base        

practices of fraud1 falsehood1 or       
hypocrisy1 he no sooner mixes with those
 whom he cherishes and supports1  than a
 genial warmth reanimates his dejected  
heart1 the tenderest  sentiments inspire
 his soul1 and the truth1 the freedom1  
the probity1  and the innocence by which
 he is surrounded1 tranquillize his     
mind1 and  reconcile him to his humble  
lot4 ,oh6 observe him1 all ye who are   
placed  in more elevated stations1      
whether ye enjoy the confidence of      
statesmen1  are the beloved companions  
of the great1 the admired favorites of  
the  fair1 the envied leaders of the    
public taste1 of high birth1 or of ample
  fortunes2 for if your rich and        
splendid homes be the seats of jealousy 
and discord1 and the bosoms of your     
families strangers to that content      
which the wise and virtuous feel within 
walls of clay1 and under roofs of       
humble thatch1 you are1 in comparison1  
poor indeed4    ,characters enervated by
 prosperity feel the smallest           

inconvenience as  a serious calamity1   
and1 unable to bear the touch of rude   
and violent  hands1 require to be       
treated1 like young and tender flowers1 
with  delicacy1 and attention2 while    
those who have been educated in the     
rough school of adversity1 walk over the
 thorns of life with a firm  and        
intrepid step1 and kick them from the   
path with indifference and  contempt4   
,superior to the false opinions and     
prejudices of the world1  they bear with
 patient fortitude the blow of          
misfortune1 disregard all  trifling     
injuries1 and look down with proud      
contempt on the malice of  their        
enemies1 and the infidelity of their    
friends4    ,the lofty zephyr1 the      
transparent spring1 the well-stored     
river1  the umbrageous forest1 the      
cooling grotto1 and the daisied field1  
however1 are not always necessary to    
enable us to despise or forget the      
consequences of adversity4 ,the man who 
firmly keeps his course1 and has        

courage to live according to his own    
taste and inclinations1 cannot be       
affected by the little crosses of life1 
or by the obloquy or injustice  of      
mankind4 ,what we do voluntarily always 
affords us more pleasure than  that     
which we do by compulsion4 ,the         
restraints of the world and the         
obligations of society1 disgust liberal 
minds1 and deprive them1 even in  the   
midst of all their splendor and fortune1
 of that content they seek so  anxiously
 to obtain4    ,solitude1 indeed1 not   
only tranquillizes the heart1 renders it
 kind and  virtuous1 and raises it above
 the malevolence of envy1 wickedness1   
and conceited ignorance1 but affords    
advantages still more valuable4         
,liberty1 true liberty1 flies from the  
tumultuous crowd1 and the forced        
connexions of the world4 ,it has been   
truly observed1 that in solitude man    
recovers from the distraction which had 
torn him from himself2 feels a  clear   
conception of what he once was1 and may 

yet become2 explores the  nature1 and   
discovers the extent1 of his freeborn   
character3 rejects  every thing         
artificial2 is guided by his own        
sentiments2 no longer dreads  a severe  
master or imperious tyrant2 and neither 
suffers the constraints  of business or 
the blandishments of pleasure1 to       
disturb his repose2  but1 breaking      
boldly through the shackles of servile  
habit and arbitrary  custom1 thinks for 
himself with confidence and courage1 and
 improves the  sensibility of his heart 
by the sentiments of his mind4          
,madame de ,stael considered it a great 
error1 to imagine that freedom and      
liberty could be indulged at court1     
where the mind1 even on the most        
trifling occasions1 is obliged to       
observe a multitude of ceremonies1      
where it is impossible to speak one's   
thoughts1 where our sentiments must  be 
adapted to those around us1 where every 
person assumes a control over  us1 and  
where we never have the smallest        

enjoyment of ourselves4 8,to  enjoy     
ourselves10 says she1 8we must seek     
solitude4 ,it was in the ,bastile  that 
,i first became acquainted with myself40
    ,a courtier1 fearful of every person
 around him1 is continually upon the    
watch1 and tormented incessantly by     
suspicion2 but while his heart is  thus 
a prey to corroding anxiety1 he is      
obliged to appear contented and  serene1
 and1 like the old lady1 is always      
lighting one taper to ,michael  the     
archangel1 and another to the devil1    
because he does not know for  which of  
them he may have most occasion4 ,a man  
of a liberal1 enlightened  mind1 is as  
little calculated to perform the office 
of master of the  ceremonies1 or to     
conduct the etiquette of a court1 as a  
woman is to be  a religieuse4           
,liberty and leisure render a rational  
and active mind indifferent to  every   
other kind of happiness4 ,it was the    
love of liberty and solitude  which     
rendered the riches and honors of the   

world so odious to ,petrarch4           
,solicited at an advanced period of his 
life1 to act as secretary to  several   
popes1 under the tempting offer of great
 emolument1 he replied1  8,riches when  
acquired at the expense of liberty1     
become the source of  real misery4 ,a   
yoke formed of gold and silver is not   
less galling and  restrictive than one  
made of wood or iron40 ,and he frankly  
told his  friends and patrons1 that to  
him there was no quantity of wealth     
equal in  value to his ease and liberty3
 that1 as he had despised riches at a   
time  when he was most in need of them1 
it would be shameful in him to seek     
them now1 when he could more            
conveniently live without them3 that    
every  man ought to apportion the       
provision for his journey according to  
the  distance he had to travel2 and     
that1 having almost reached the end of  
his  course1 he ought to think more of  
his reception at the inn1 than of his   
expenses on the road4    ,petrarch1     

disgusted by the vicious manners which  
surrounded the papal  chair1 retired    
into solitude when he was only          
three-and-twenty years of  age1 and in  
possession of that exterior1 both with  
respect to person  and dress1 which     
forms so essential a part in the        
character of an  accomplished courtier4 
,nature had decorated him with every    
pleasing  attribute4 ,his fine form     
struck observers so forcibly1 that they 
stopped  as he passed along to admire   
and point out his symmetry4 ,his eyes   
were  bright and full of fire2 his      
lively countenance proclaimed the       
vivacity  of the mind2 the freshest     
color glowed on his cheeks2 his features
 were  uncommonly expressive2 and his   
whole appearance was manly1 elegant1    
and noble4 ,the natural disposition of  
his heart1 increased by the warm        
climate of ,italy1 the fire of youth1   
the seductive charms of the various     
beauties who resorted to the papal      
court1 from every nation of ,europe1    

and especially the prevailing           
dissipation of the age1 attached him1   
very early in life1 to the society of   
women4 ,the decoration of dress  deeply 
engaged his attention2 and the least    
spot or improper fold on  his garments1 
which were always of the lightest color1
 seemed to give  him real uneasiness4   
,every form which appeared inelegant was
 carefully  avoided1 even in the fashion
 of his shoes2 which were so extremely  
tight1  and cramped him to such a       
degree1 that he would soon have been    
deprived  of the use of his feet1 if he 
had not wisely recollected1 that it was 
much better to displease the eyes of the
 ladies than to make himself a  cripple4
 ,to prevent the dress of his hair from 
being discomposed1 he  protected it with
 anxiety from the rudeness of the winds 
as he passed  along the streets4        
,devoted1 however1 as he was to the     
service of the  sex1 he maintained a    
rival fondness for literature1 and an   
inviolable  attachment to moral         

sentiment2 and while he celebrated the  
charms of  his fair favorites in choice 
,italian1 he reserved his knowledge of  
the  learned languages for subjects more
 serious and important4 ,nor did  he    
permit the warmth of his constitution1  
or the sensibility of his  heart1 great 
and exquisite as they were1 to debauch  
his mind1 or betray  him into the most  
trifling indiscretion1 without feeling  
the keenest  compunction and repentance4
 8,i wish10 said he1 8that ,i had a     
heart as  hard as adamant1 rather than  
be so continually tormented by such     
seducing  passions40 ,the heart of this 
amiable young man1 was1 indeed1         
continually  assailed by the crowd of   
beauties that adorned the papal court2  
and the  power of their charms1 and the 
facility with which his situation       
enabled  them to enjoy his company1     
rendered him in some degree their       
captive2  but1 alarmed by the           
approaching torments and disquietudes of
 love1 he  cautiously avoided their     

pleasing snares1 and continued1 previous
 to the  sight of his beloved ,laura1 to
 roam 8free and unconquered through the 
wilds of love40    ,the practice of the 
civil law was at this period the only   
road to  eminence at ,avignon2 but      
,petrarch detested the venality of the  
profession2 and though he practised at  
the bar1 and gained many causes  by his 
eloquence1 he afterwards reproached     
himself with it4 8,in my  youth10 says  
he1 8,i devoted myself to the trade of  
selling words1 or  rather fabricating   
falsehoods2 but that which we do against
 our own  inclinations1 is seldom       
attended with success2 my fondness was  
for  solitude1 and therefore ,i attended
 the practice of the bar with aversion  
and disgust40 ,the secret consciousness 
however1 which he entertained  of his   
own merit1 gave him all the confidence  
natural to youth2 and1  filling his mind
 with that lofty spirit which begets the
 presumption  of being equal to the     
highest achievements1 he relinquished   

the bar  for the church2 but his        
inveterate hatred of the manners of the 
,episcopal court prevented his          
exertions1 and retarded his promotion4  
8,i  have no hope10 said he1 in the     
thirty-fifth year of his age1 8of making
  my fortune in the court of the vicar  
of ,jesus ,christ2 to accomplish  that1 
,i must assiduously attend the palaces  
of the great1 and practise  flattery1   
falsehood1 and deceit40 ,a task of this 
kind was too painful  to his feelings to
 perform2 not because he either hated   
the society of  men1 or disliked        
advancement1 but because he detested the
 means he must  necessarily have used to
 gratify his ambition4 ,glory was his   
warmest  wish1 and he ardently          
endeavored to obtain it2 not1 indeed1 by
 the ways  in which it is usually       
obtained1 but by delighting to walk in  
the most  unfrequented paths1 and of    
course1 by retiring from the world4 ,the
  sacrifices he made to solitude were   
great and important2 but his mind and   

his heart were formed to enjoy the      
advantages it affords with a superior   
degree of delight2 a happiness which    
resulted to him from his hatred of a    
profligate court1 and from his love of  
liberty4    ,the love of liberty was the
 secret cause which gave the mind of    
,rousseau  so inveterate a disgust to   
society1 and became in solitude the     
spring  of all his pleasures4 ,his      
,letters to ,malesherbes are as         
remarkable for  the discovery they make 
of his real disposition1 as his         
,confessions1  which have been as much  
misunderstood as his character4 8,i     
mistook  for a great length of time10   
says he1 in one of these letters1 8the  
cause of that invincible disgust which  
,i always felt in my intercourse  with  
the world4 ,i attributed it to the      
mortification of not possessing  that   
quick and ready talent necessary to     
display in conversation the  little     
knowledge ,i possessed2 and this        
reflected an idea1 that ,i did  not hold

 that reputation in the opinion of      
mankind which ,i conceived  ,i merited4 
,but although1 after scribbling many    
ridiculous things1 and  perceiving      
myself sought after by all the world1   
and honored with much  more             
consideration than even my own          
ridiculous vanity would have led me  to 
expect1 ,i found that ,i was in no      
danger of being taken for a fool2  yet1 
still feeling the same disgust rather   
augmented than diminished1 ,i  concluded
 that it must arise from some other     
cause1 and that these were  not the kind
 of enjoyments which ,i must look for4  
,what then1 in fact1  was the cause of  
it8 ,it was no other than that          
invincible spirit of  liberty which     
nothing can overcome1 and in competition
 with which1 honor1  fortune1 and even  
fame itself1 are to me as nothing4 ,it  
is certain that  this spirit of liberty 
is engendered less by pride than by     
indolence2 but  this indolence is       
incredible2 it is alarmed at every      

thing2 it renders  the most trifling    
duties of civil life insupportable4 ,to 
be obliged to  speak a word1 to write a 
letter1 or to pay a visit1 are to me1   
from  the moment the obligation arises1 
the severest punishments4 ,this is the  
reason why1 although the ordinary       
commerce of men is odious to me1 the    
pleasures of private friendship are so  
dear to my heart2 for in the  indulgence
 of private friendships there are no    
duties to perform2 we have  only to     
follow the feelings of the heart1 and   
all is done4 ,this is the  reason also  
why ,i have so much dreaded to accept of
 favors2 for every  act of kindness     
demands an acknowledgment1 and ,i feel  
that my heart is  ungrateful only       
because gratitude becomes a duty4 ,the  
kind of happiness1  in short1 which     
pleases me best1 does not consist so    
much in doing what  ,i wish1 as in      
avoiding that which is disagreeable to  
me4 ,active life  affords no temptations
 to me4 ,i would much rather do nothing 

at all than  that which ,i dislike2 and 
,i have frequently thought that ,i      
should not  have lived very unhappily   
even in the ,bastile1 provided ,i was   
free from  any other constraint than    
that of merely residing within the      
walls40    ,an ,english author asks1    
8,why are the inhabitants of the rich   
plains of  ,lombardy1 where nature pours
 her gifts in such profusion1 less      
opulent  than those of the mountains of 
,swisserland8--,because freedom1 whose  
influence is more benign than sunshine  
and zephyrs2 who covers the rugged  rock
 with soil1 drains the sickly swamp1 and
 clothes the brown heath  in verdure2   
who dresses the laborer's face with     
smiles1 and makes him  behold his       
increasing family with delight and      
exultation--,freedom has  abandoned the 
fertile fields of ,lombardy1 and dwells 
among the mountains  of ,swisserland40  
,this observation1 though dressed in    
such enthusiastic  expressions1 is      
literally true at ,uri1 ,schwitz1       

,underwalde1 ,zug1 ,glaris1  and        
,appenzel2 for those who have more than 
their wants require are  rich2 and those
 who are enabled to think1 to speak1 and
 to act as  inclination may dictate1 are
 free4    ,competency and liberty1      
therefore1 are the true sweeteners of   
life4 ,that  state of mind1 so rarely   
possessed1 in which a man can sincerely 
say1 ,i  have enough1 is the highest    
attainment of philosophy4 ,happiness    
does  not consist in having much1 but in
 having sufficient4 ,this is the reason 
why kings and princes are seldom happy2 
for they always desire more than  they  
possess1 and are urged incessantly to   
attempt more than it is in  their power 
to achieve4 ,he who wants little has    
always enough4 8,i am  contented10 says 
,petrarch1 in a letter to his friends1  
the cardinals  ,talleyrand and ,bologna3
 8,i desire nothing more2 ,i enjoy every
 thing that  is necessary to life4      
,cincinnatus1 ,curtius1 ,fabricius1 and 
,regulus1 after  having conquered       

nations1 and led kings in triumph1 were 
not so rich as ,i  am4 ,but ,i should   
always be poor if ,i were to open a door
 to my passions4  ,luxury1 ambition1    
avarice know no bounds1 and desire is an
 unfathomable  abyss4 ,i have clothes to
 cover me2 victuals to support me2      
horses to  carry me2 lands to lie down  
or walk upon while ,i live1 and to      
receive my  remains when ,i die4 ,what  
more was any ,roman emperor possessed   
of8--,my  body is healthy2 and being    
engaged in toil1 is less rebellious     
against my  mind4 ,i have books of every
 kind1 which are to me inestimable      
treasures2  they fill my soul with a    
voluptuous delight1 untinctured with    
remorse4  ,i have friends whom ,i       
consider more precious than any thing ,i
 possess1  provided their counsels do   
not tend to abridge my liberty3 and ,i  
know of  no other enemies than those    
which envy has raised against me40      
,solitude not only restrains inordinate 
desires1 but discovers to mankind  their

 real wants2 and where a simplicity of  
manners prevails1 the real  wants of men
 are not only few1 but easily satisfied2
 for being ignorant  of those desires   
which luxury creates1 they can have no  
idea of indulging  them4 ,an old country
 curate1 who had all his life resided   
upon a lofty  mountain near the lake of 
,thun1 in the canton of ,berne1 was one 
day  presented with a moor-cock4 ,the   
good old man1 ignorant that such a bird 
existed1 consulted with his cook-maid in
 what manner this rarity was to  be     
disposed of1 and they both agreed to    
bury it in the garden4 ,if we were  all1
 alas6 as ignorant of the delicious     
flavor of moor-cocks1 we might be  all  
as happy and contented as the simple    
pastor of the mountain near the  lake of
 ,thun4    ,the man who confines his    
desires to his real wants1 is more wise1
 more  rich1 and more contented1 than   
any other mortal existing4 ,the system  
upon which he acts is1 like his soul1   
replete with simplicity and true        

greatness2 and seeking his felicity in  
innocent obscurity and peaceful         
retirement1 he devotes his mind to the  
love of truth1 and finds his  highest   
happiness in a contented heart4    ,a   
calm and tranquil life renders the      
indulgence of sensual pleasures  less   
dangerous4 ,the theatre of sensuality   
exhibits scenes of waste and  brutality1
 of noisy mirth and tumultuous riot2    
presents to observation  pernicious     
goblets1 overloaded tables1 lascivious  
dancing1 receptacles  for disease1 tombs
 with faded roses1 and all the dismal   
haunts of pain4  ,but to him who retires
 in detestation from such gross         
delights1 the joys  of sense are of a   
more elevated kind2 soft1 sublime1 pure1
 permanent1 and  tranquil4    ,petrarch 
one day inviting his friend1 the        
cardinal ,colonna1 to visit his         
retirement at ,vaucluse1 wrote to him1  
8,if you prefer the tranquillity  of the
 country to the noise of the town1 come 
here and enjoy yourself4  ,do not be    

alarmed by the simplicity of my table1  
or the hardness of my  beds4 ,kings     
themselves are frequently disgusted by  
the luxury in which  they live1 and sigh
 for comforts of a more homely kind4    
,change of scene  is always pleasing2   
and pleasures1 by occasional            
interruption1 frequently  become more   
lively4 ,if1 however1 you should not    
accord with these  sentiments you may   
bring with you the most exquisite       
viands1 the wines of  ,vesuvius1 silver 
dishes1 and every thing else that the   
indulgence of your  senses requires4    
,leave the rest to me4 ,i promise to    
provide you with a  bed of the finest   
turf1 a cooling shade1 the music of the 
nightingales1  figs1 raisins1 water     
drawn from the freshest springs2 and1 in
 short1  every thing that the hand of   
,nature prepares for the lap of genuine 
pleasure40    ,ah6 who would not        
willingly renounce those things which   
only produce  disquietude in the mind1  
for those which render it contented6    

,the art of  occasionally diverting the 
imagination1 taste1 and passions1       
affords new  and unknown enjoyments to  
the mind and confers pleasure without   
pain1  and luxury without repentance4   
,the senses deadened by satiety1 revive 
to new enjoyments4 ,the lively twitter  
of the groves1 and the murmur of  the   
brooks1 yield a more delicious pleasure 
to the ear than the music of  the opera1
 or the compositions of the ablest      
masters4 ,the eye reposes  more         
agreeably on the concave firmament1 on  
an expanse of waters1 on  mountains     
covered with rocks1 than it does on all 
the glare of balls and  assemblies4 ,in 
short1 the mind enjoys in solitude      
objects which were  before              
insupportable1 and reclining on the     
bosom of simplicity1 easily  renounces  
every vain delight4 ,petrarch wrote from
 ,vaucluse to one of  his friends1 8,i  
have made war against my corporeal      
powers1 for ,i find  they are my        
enemies4 ,my eyes1 which have rendered  

me guilty of so many  follies1 are now  
confined to the view of a single woman1 
old1 black1 and  sunburnt4 ,if ,helen1  
or ,lucretia had possessed such a face1 
,troy would  never have been reduced to 
ashes1 nor ,tarquin driven from the     
empire of  the world4 ,but1 to          
compensate these defects1 she is        
faithful1 submissive1  and industrious4 
,she passes whole days in the fields1   
her shrivelled  skin defying the hottest
 rays of the sun4 ,my wardrobe still    
contains  fine clothes1 but ,i never    
wear them2 and you would take me for a  
common  laborer or a simple shepherd2   
,i1 who formerly was so anxious about my
  dress4 ,but the reasons which then    
prevailed1 no longer exist3 the fetters 
by which ,i was enslaved are broken3 the
 eyes which ,i was anxious to  please   
are shut2 and if they were still open1  
they would not perhaps1 now  be able to 
maintain the same empire over my heart40
    ,solitude1 by stripping worldly     
objects of the false splendor in which  

fancy arrays them1 dispels all vain     
ambition from the mind4 ,accustomed to  
rural delights and indifferent to every 
other kind of pleasure1 a wise  man no  
longer thinks high offices and worldly  
advancement worthy of his  desires4 ,a  
noble ,roman was overwhelmed with tears 
on being obliged to  accept of the      
consulship1 because it would deprive him
 for one year of  the opportunity of    
cultivating his fields4 ,cincinnatus1   
who was called  from the plough to the  
supreme command of the ,roman legions1  
defeated the  enemies of his country1   
added to it new provinces1 made his     
triumphal  entry into ,rome1 and at the 
expiration of sixteen days returned to  
his  plough4 ,it is true1 that the      
inmate of an humble cottage1 who is     
forced  to earn his daily bread by      
labor1 and the owner of a spacious      
mansion1  for whom every luxury is      
provided1 are not held in equal         
estimation by  mankind4 ,but let the man
 who has experienced both these         

situations1  be asked under which of    
them he felt the most content4 ,the     
cares and  inquietudes of the palace are
 innumerably greater than those of the  
cottage4 ,in the former1 discontent     
poisons every enjoyment2 and its        
superfluity is only misery in disguise4 
,the princes of ,germany do not  digest 
all the palatable poison which their    
cooks prepare1 so well as a  peasant    
upon the heaths of ,limbourg digests his
 buck-wheat pie4 ,and those  who may    
differ from me in this opinion1 will be 
forced to acknowledge1  that there is   
great truth in the reply which a pretty 
,french country  girl1 made to a young  
nobleman1 who solicited her to abandon  
her rustic  taste1 and retire with him  
to ,paris3 8,ah6 my lord1 the further we
 remove  from ourselves1 the greater is 
our distance from happiness40           
,solitude1 by moderating the selfish    
desires of the heart1 and expelling     
ambition from the breast1 becomes a real
 asylum to the disappointed  statesman  

or discarded minister2 for it is not    
every public minister who  can retire1  
like ,neckar1 through the portals of    
everlasting fame4 ,every  person1       
indeed1 without distinction1 ought to   
raise his grateful hands to  heaven1 on 
being dismissed from the troubles of    
public life1 to the calm  repose which  
the cultivation of his native fields1   
and the care of his  flocks and herds1  
afford4 ,in ,france1 however1 when a    
minister1 who has  incurred the         
displeasure of his sovereign1 is ordered
 to retire1 and  thereby enabled to     
visit an estate which he has decorated  
in the highest  style of rural elegance1
 this delightful retreat1 alas6 being   
considered  a place of exile1 becomes   
intolerable to his mind3 he no longer   
fancies himself its master2 is incapable
 of relishing its enchanting  beauties2 
repose flies from his pillow2 and       
turning with aversion from  every       
object1 he dies at length1 the victim of
 spleen1 petulance1 and  dejection4 ,but

 in ,england it is just the reverse4    
,there a minister is  congratulated on  
retiring1 like a man who has happily    
escaped from a  dangerous malady4 ,he   
feels himself still surrounded by many  
friends much  more worthy than his      
adherents while in power2 for while     
those were  bound to him by temporary   
considerations of interest1 these are   
attached  to him by real and permanent  
esteem4 ,thanks1 generous ,britons6 for 
the  examples you have given to us of   
men sufficiently bold and independent   
to weigh events in the scales of reason1
 and to guide themselves by the         
intrinsic and real merits of each case3 
for notwithstanding the freedom  with   
which many ,englishmen have arraigned   
the dispensations of the  ,supreme      
,being2 notwithstanding the mockery and 
ridicule with which they  have so       
frequently insulted virtue1 good        
manners1 and decorum2 there are  many   
more among them1 who1 especially at an  
advanced period of their  lives1        

perfectly understand the art of living  
by themselves2 and in their  tranquil   
and delightful villas think with more   
dignity1 and live with  more real       
happiness1 than the haughtiest noble in 
the zenith of his power4    ,of the     
ministers who retire from the           
administration of public affairs1  the  
majority finish their days in           
cultivating their gardens1 in improving 
their estates1 and1 like the excellent  
de la ,roche1 at ,spire1 certainly      
possess more content with the shovel and
 the rake1 than they enjoyed in  the    
most prosperous hours in their          
administration4    ,it has1 indeed1 been
 said1 that observations like these are 
common to  persons who1 ignorant of the 
manners of the world1 and the characters
 of  men1 love to moralize on1 and      
recommend a contempt of1 human          
greatness2  but that rural innocence1   
the pure and simple pleasures of nature1
 and  an uninterrupted repose1 are very 
seldom the companions of this boasted   

solitude4 ,those who maintain this      
opinion1 assert1 that man1 though       
surrounded with difficulties1 and       
obliged to employ every art and cunning 
to attain his ends1 feels with his      
success the pleasing power which        
attaches to the character of master1 and
 fondly indulges in the exercise  of    
sovereignty4 ,enabled to create and to  
destroy1 to plant and to root  up1 to   
make alterations when and where he      
pleases1 he may grub up a  vineyard1 and
 plant an ,english grove on its site2   
erect hills where hills  never were     
seen2 level eminences to the ground2    
compel the stream to flow  as his       
inclination shall direct2 force woods   
and shrubberies to grow  where he       
pleases2 graft or lop as it shall strike
 his fancy2 open views  and shut out    
boundaries2 construct ruins where       
buildings never existed2  erect temples 
of which he alone is the high priest2   
and build hermitages  in which he may   
seclude himself at pleasure4 ,it is     

said1 however1 that  this is not a      
reward for the restraints he formerly   
experienced1 but a  natural inclination2
 for that a minister must be1 from the  
habits of his  life1 fond of command and
 sovereignty1 whether he continues at   
the head  of an extensive empire1 or    
directs the management of a poultry     
yard4    ,it would most undoubtedly     
discover a great ignorance of the world1
 and  of the nature of man1 to contend  
that it is necessary to renounce all    
the inclinations of the human heart1 in 
order to enjoy the advantages of        
solitude4 ,that which nature has        
implanted in the human breast must there
  remain4 ,if1 therefore a minister1 in 
his retirement1 is not satiated  with   
the exercise of power and authority1 but
 still fondly wishes for  command1 let  
him require obedience from his chickens1
 provided such a  gratification is      
essential to his happiness and tends to 
suppress the  desire of again exposing  
himself to those tempests and shipwrecks

 which  he can only avoid in the safe   
harbor of rural life4 ,an ex-minister   
must  sooner or later1 learn to despise 
the appearances of human greatness1     
when he discovers that true greatness   
frequently begins at that period of     
life which statesmen are apt to consider
 a dreary void2 that the regret  of     
being no longer able to do more good1 is
 only ambition in disguise2  and that   
the inhabitants of the country1 in      
cultivating their cabbages  and         
potatoes1 are a hundred times happier   
than the greatest minister4    ,nothing 
contributes more to the advancement of  
earthly felicity1 than a  reliance on   
those maxims which teach us to do as    
much good as possible1  and to take     
things just as we find them2 for it is  
certainly true  that no characters are  
so unhappy as those who are continually 
finding  fault with every thing they    
see4 ,my barber at ,hanover1 while he   
was  preparing to shave me1 exclaimed1  
with a deep sigh1 8,it is terribly hot  

to day10 8,you place heaven10 said ,i to
 him1 8in great difficulties4  ,for     
these nine months last past1 you have   
regularly told me every other  day1 ,it 
is terribly cold to day40 ,cannot the   
,almighty1 then any longer  govern the  
universe1 without these gentlemen       
barbers finding something  to be        
discontented with8 8,is it not10 ,i     
asked him1 8much better to take  the    
seasons as they change1 and to receive  
with equal gratitude1 from  the hand of 
,god1 the winter's cold1 and the        
summer's warmth80 8,oh6  certainly10    
replied the barber4    ,competency1 and 
content1 therefore1 may in general1 be  
considered as the  basis of earthly     
happiness2 and solitude1 in many        
instances1 favors both  the one and the 
other4    ,solitude not only refines the
 enjoyments of friendship1 but enables  
us to  acquire friends from whom nothing
 can alienate our souls1 and to whose   
arms we never fly in vain4    ,the      
friends of ,petrarch sometimes          

apologized to him for their long        
absence4 8,it is impossible for us10    
said they1 8to follow your example2  the
 life you lead at ,vaucluse is contrary 
to human nature4 ,in winter  you sit    
like an owl in the chimney corner4 ,in  
summer you are running  incessantly     
about the fields40 ,petrarch smiled at  
these observations4  8,these people10   
said he1 8consider the pleasures of the 
world as the  supreme good2 and cannot  
bear the idea of renouncing them4 ,i    
have friends  whose society is extremely
 agreeable to me3 they are of all ages1 
and of  every country4 ,they have       
distinguished themselves both in the    
cabinet  and in the field1 and obtained 
high honors for their knowledge of the  
sciences4 ,it is easy to gain access to 
them1 for they are always at  my        
service2 and ,i admit them to my        
company1 and dismiss them from it       
whenever ,i please4 ,they are never     
troublesome1 but immediately answer     
every question ,i ask them4 ,some relate

 to me the events of past ages1  while  
others reveal to me the secrets of      
nature4 ,some teach me how to  live1 and
 others how to die4 ,some1 by their     
vivacity1 drive away my  cares1 and     
exhilarate my spirits2 while others give
 fortitude to my  mind1 and teach me the
 important lesson how to restrain my    
desires1 and  to depend on myself4 ,they
 open to me1 in short1 the various      
avenues of  all the arts and sciences2  
and upon their information ,i safely    
rely in  all emergencies4 ,in return for
 all these services1 they only ask me to
  accommodate them with a convenient    
chamber in some corner of my humble     
habitation1 where they may repose in    
peace3 for these friends are more       
delighted with the tranquillity of      
retirement1 than with the tumults of    
society40    ,love6 the most precious   
gift of heaven1        8,the cordial    
drop ,heav'n in our cup has thrown1     
,to make the bitter load of life go     
down10    appears to merit a            

distinguished rank among the advantages 
of solitude4    ,love voluntarily unites
 itself with the aspect of beautiful    
nature4 ,the  view of a pleasing        
landscape makes the heart beat with the 
tenderest  emotions4 ,the lonely        
mountain and the silent grove increase  
the  susceptibility of the female bosom1
 inspire the mind with rapturous        
enthusiasm1 and1 sooner or later1 draw  
aside and subjugate the heart4    ,women
 feel the pure and tranquil pleasures of
 rural life with a higher  sensibility  
than men4 ,they enjoy more exquisitely  
the beauties of a  lonely walk1 the     
freshness of a shady forest1 and admire 
with higher  ecstacy the charms of      
nature4 ,solitude is to them the school 
of true  philosophy4 ,in ,england1 at   
least1 where the face of the country is 
so  beautiful1 and where the taste of   
its inhabitants is hourly adding to it  
new embellishments1 the love of rural   
solitude is certainly stronger in  the  
women than the men4 ,a nobleman who     

employs the day in riding over  his     
estates or in following the hounds1 does
 not enjoy the pleasures  of rural life 
with the same delight as his lady1 who  
devotes her time1  in her romantic      
pleasure grounds1 to needle work1 or to 
the reading of  some instructive1       
interesting work4 ,in this happy        
country1 indeed1 where  the people1 in  
general1 love the enjoyments of the     
mind1 the calm of  rural retirement is  
doubly valuable1 and its delights more  
exquisite4  ,the learning which has of  
late years so considerably increased    
among  the ladies of ,germany1 is       
certainly to be attributed to their love
 of  retirement3 for1 among those who   
pass their time in the country1 we find 
much more true wit and rational         
sentiment1 than among the beaux esprits 
of the metropolis4    ,minds1 indeed1   
apparently insensible in the atmosphere 
of a metropolis1  unfold themselves with
 rapture in the country4 ,this is the   
reason why  the return of spring fills  

every tender breast with love4 8,what   
can more  resemble love10 says a        
celebrated ,german philosopher1 8than   
the feeling  with which my soul is      
inspired at the sight of this           
magnificent valley1  thus illuminated by
 the setting sun60 ,rousseau felt an    
inexpressible  delight on viewing the   
first appearances of spring3 the        
earliest blossoms  of that charming     
season gave new life and vigor to his   
mind2 the  tenderest dispositions of his
 heart were awakened and augmented by   
the  soft verdure it presented to his   
eyes2 and the charms of his mistress    
were assimilated with the beauties that 
surrounded him on every side4 ,the  view
 of an extensive and pleasing prospect  
softened his sorrows2 and he  breathed  
his sighs with exquisite delight amidst 
the rising flowers of  his garden1 and  
the rich fruits of his orchard4         
,lovers constantly seek the rural grove 
to indulge1 in the tranquillity  of     
retirement1 the uninterrupted           

contemplation of the beloved object     
which forms the sole happiness of their 
lives4 ,of what importance to them  are 
all the transactions of the world1 or1  
indeed1 any thing that does  not tend to
 indulge the passion that fills their   
hearts8 ,silent groves1  embowering     
glades1 or the lonely borders of        
murmuring streams1 where they  may      
freely resign themselves to their fond  
reflections1 are the only  confidants of
 their souls4 ,a lovely shepherdess1    
offering her fostering  bosom to the    
infant she is nursing1 while at her side
 her well-beloved  partner sits dividing
 with her his morsel of hard black      
bread1 is an  hundred times more happy  
than all the fops of the town3 for love 
inspires  his mind1 in the highest      
degree1 with all that is elevated1      
delightful  and affecting in nature2 and
 warms the coldest bosoms with the      
greatest  sensibility and the highest   
rapture4    ,love's softest images      
spring up anew in solitude4 ,the        

remembrance of  these emotions which the
 first blush of conscious tenderness1   
the first  gentle pressure of the hand1 
the first dread of interruption1 create1
  recurs incessantly6 ,time1 it is said1
 extinguishes the flame of love2  but   
solitude renews the fire1 and calls     
forth those agents which lie  long      
concealed1 and only wait a favorable    
moment to display their  powers4 ,the   
whole course of youthful feeling again  
beams forth2 and the  mind--delicious   
recollection6--fondly retracing the     
first affection  of the heart1 fills the
 bosom with an indelible sense of those 
high  ecstacies which a connoisseur has 
said1 with as much truth as energy1     
proclaim1 for the first time1 that happy
 discovery1 that fortunate  moment1 when
 two lovers first perceive their mutual 
fondness4    ,herder mentions a certain 
cast of people in ,asia1 whose mythology
 thus  divided the felicities of        
eternity4 8,that men1 after death1 were1
 in the  celestial regions1 immediately 

the objects of female love during the   
course of a thousand years2 first by    
tender looks1 then by a balmy kiss1  and
 afterwards1 by immediate alliance40    
,it was this noble and sublime species  
of affection that ,wieland1 in the      
warmest moments of impassioned youth    
felt for an amiable1 sensible1 and      
beautiful lady of ,zurich2 for that     
extraordinary genius was perfectly      
satisfied1 that the metaphysical effects
 of love1 begin with the first  sigh1   
and expire1 to a certain degree1 with   
the first kiss4 ,i one day  asked this  
young lady when it was that ,wieland had
 saluted her for the  first time8       
8,wieland10 replied the amiable girl1   
8did not kiss my hand  for the first    
time until four years after our         
acquaintance commenced40    ,young      
persons1 in general1 however1 do not1   
like ,wieland1 adopt the  mystic        
refinements of love4 ,yielding to the   
sentiments which the passion  inspires1 
and less acquainted with its            

metaphysical nature1 they feel  at an   
earlier age1 in the tranquillity of     
solitude1 that irresistible  impulse to 
the union of the sexes which the ,god of
 nature has so strongly  implanted in   
the human breast4    ,a lady who resided
 in great retirement1 at a romantic     
cottage upon the  banks of the lake of  
,geneva1 had three innocent and lovely  
daughters4  ,the eldest was about       
fourteen years of age1 the youngest was 
about nine1  when they were presented   
with a tame bird1 which hopped and flew 
about  the chamber the whole day1 and   
formed the sole amusement and pleasure  
of their lives4 ,placing themselves on  
their knees1 they offered1 with         
unwearied delight1 their little         
favorite1 pieces of biscuit from their  
fingers1 and endeavored1 by every means1
 to induce him to fly to1 and  nestle   
in1 their bosoms2 but the bird1 the     
moment he had got the biscuit1  with    
cunning coyness eluded their hopes1 and 
hopped away4 ,the little  favorite at   

length died4 ,a year after this event1  
the youngest of the  three sisters said 
to her mother1 8,oh1 ,i remember that   
dear little bird6  ,i wish1 mamma1 you  
could procure me such a one to play     
with40 8,oh6 no10  replied her elder    
sister1 8,i should like to have a little
 dog to play  with better than any      
thing4 ,i could catch a little dog1 take
 him on my  knee1 hug him in my arms4 ,a
 bird affords me no pleasure2 he perches
 a  little while on my finger1 then     
flies away1 and there is no catching him
  again3 but a little dog1 oh6 what     
pleasure4'''0    ,i shall never forget  
the poor religieuse in whose apartment  
,i found  a breeding cage of canary     
birds1 nor forgive myself for having    
burst  into a fit of laughter at the    
discovery4 ,it was1 alas6 the suggestion
 of  nature2 and who can resist what    
nature suggests8 ,this mystic wandering 
of  religious minds1 this celestial     
epilepsy of love1 this premature effect 
of solitude1 is only the fond           

application of natural inclination      
raised  superior to all others4         
,absence and tranquillity appear so     
favorable to the indulgence of this     
pleasing passion1 that lovers frequently
 quit the beloved object1 to  reflect in
 solitude on her charms4 ,who does not  
recollect to have read1  in the         
,confessions of ,rousseau1 the story    
related by ,madame de ,luxemberg1  of a 
lover who quitted the presence of his   
mistress1 only that he might  have the  
pleasure of writing to her4 ,rousseau   
replied to ,madame de  ,luxemberg1 that 
he wished he had been that man2 and his 
wish was founded  on a perfect knowledge
 of the passion3 for who has ever been  
in love1  and does not know that there  
are moments when the pen is capable of  
expressing the fine feelings of the     
heart with much greater effect than  the
 voice1 with its miserable organ of     
speech8 ,the tongue1 even in its        
happiest elocution1 is never so         
persuasive as the speaking eyes1 when   

lovers gaze with silent ecstacy on each 
other's charms4    ,lovers not only     
express1 but feel their passion with    
higher ecstacy and  happiness in        
solitude than in any other situation4   
,what fashionable  lover ever painted   
his passion for a lovely mistress with  
such laconic  tenderness and effect1 as 
the village chorister of ,hanover did on
 the  death of a young and beautiful    
country girl with whom he was enamored1 
when1 after erecting in the cemetery of 
the cathedral1 a sepulchral stone  to   
her memory1 he carved1 in an artless    
manner1 the figure of a blooming  rose  
on its front1 and inscribed beneath it  
these words3 ,c'est ainsi  qu'elle fut4 
,it was at the feet of those rocks which
 overhung the celebrated retreat  at    
,vaucluse1 that ,petrarch composed his  
finest sonnets to deplore the  absence1 
or to complain of the cruelty of his    
beloved ,laura4 ,the ,italians  are of  
opinion1 that when love inspired his    
muse1 his poetry soared far  beyond that

 of any poet who ever wrote before or   
since his time1 either  in the ,greek1  
the ,latin1 or the ,tuscan languages4   
8,ah6 how soft and  tender is this      
language of the heart60 they exclaim4   
8,petrarch alone was  acquainted with   
its power3 he has added to the three    
graces a fourth--the  grace of          
delicacy40    ,love1 however1 when      
indulged in rural solitude or amidst the
 romantic  scenery of an ancient castle1
 and1 assisted by the ardent imagination
 of  impetuous youth1 frequently assumes
 a more bold and violent character4     
,religious enthusiasm1 blended with a   
saturnine disposition1 forms1 in        
effervescent minds1 a sublime and       
extraordinary compound of the feelings  
of the heart4 ,a youthful lover of this 
description1 when deprived of the       
smiles of his mistress1 takes his first 
declaration of love from the text  of   
the apocalypse and thinks his passion an
 eternal melancholy2 but when  he is    
inclined to sharpen the dart within his 

breast1 his inspired mind  views in the 
beloved object the fairest model of     
divine perfection4    ,the lovers of    
this romantic cast1 placed in some      
ancient solitary  castle1 soar far      
beyond the common tribe1 and1 as their  
ideas refine1  their passions become    
proportionably sublime4 ,surrounded by  
stupendous  rocks1 and impressed by the 
awful stilness of the scene1 the beloved
  youth is considered not merely as an  
amiable and virtuous man1 but as a  god4
 ,the inspired mind of the fond female  
fancies her bosom to be the  sanctuary  
of love1 and conceives her affection for
 the youthful idol of  her heart to be  
an emanation from heaven3 a ray of the  
,divine ,presence4  ,ordinary lovers1   
without doubt1 in spite of absence1     
unite their souls1  write by every post1
 seize all occasions to converse with1  
or hear from1  each other2 but our more 
sublime and exalted female introduces   
into her  romance of passion every      
butterfly she meets with1 and all the   

feathered  songsters of the groves2 and1
 except in the object of her love1 no   
longer  sees any thing as it really is4 
,reason and sense no longer guide3 the  
refinements of love direct all her      
movements2 she tears the world from  its
 poles1 and the sun from its axis2 and  
to prove that all she does is  right1   
establishes for herself and her lover a 
new gospel1 and a new  system of        
morality4    ,a lover1 separated1       
perhaps1 forever1 from a mistress who   
has made the  most important sacrifices 
to his happiness2 who was his only      
consolation  in affliction1 his only    
comfort in calamity2 whose kindness     
supported  his sinking fortitude2 who   
remained his faithful and his only      
friend  in dire adversity and domestic  
sorrow2 seeks1 as his sole resource1 a  
slothful solitude4 ,nights passed in    
sleepless agonies2 a distaste of  life1 
a desire of death1 an abhorrence of all 
society1 and a love of  dreary          
seclusion1 drive him1 day1 after day1   

wandering1 as chance may  direct1 though
 the most solitary retirements far from 
the hated traces  of mankind4 ,were he1 
however1 to wander from the ,elbe to the
 lake of  ,geneva2 were he to seek      
relief in the frozen confines of the    
north1 or  the burning regions of the   
west1 to the utmost extremities of the  
earth  or seas1 he would still be like  
the hind described by ,virgil3          
8,stung with the stroke and madding with
 the pain      ,she wildly flies from   
wood to wood in vain2      ,shoots o'er 
the ,cretan lawn with many a bound1     
,the cleaving dart still rankling in the
 wound40    ,petrarch1 on returning to  
,vaucluse1 felt with new and increasing 
stings  the passion which perturbed his 
breast4 ,immediately on his arrival at  
this sequestered spot1 the image of his 
beloved ,laura incessantly haunted  his 
imagination4 ,he beheld her at all      
times1 in every place1 and under a      
thousand different forms4 8,three times 
in the middle of the night when  every  

door was closed1 she appeared to me10   
says he1 8at the feet of my  bed1 with a
 steadfast look1 as if confident of the 
power of her charms4  ,fear spread a    
chilling dew over all my limbs4 ,my     
blood thrilled through  my veins towards
 my heart4 ,if any one had then entered 
my apartment with  a candle1 they would 
have beheld me as pale as death1 with   
every mark of  terror on my face4       
,rising before the break of day1 with   
trembling limbs1  from my disordered    
bed1 and hastily leaving my house1 where
 every thing  created alarm1 ,i climbed 
to the summit of the rocks1 and ran     
wildly  through the woods1 casting my   
eyes incessantly on every side1 to see  
if  the form which had haunted my       
repose1 still pursued me4 ,alas6 ,i     
could  find no asylum4 ,places the most 
sequestered1 where ,i fondly flattered  
myself that ,i should be alone1         
presented her continually to my mind2   
and  ,i beheld her sometimes issuing    
from the hollow trunk of a tree1 from   

the  concealed source of a spring1 or   
from the dark cavity of a broken rock4  
,fear rendered me insensible1 and ,i    
neither know what ,i did1 or where ,i   
went40    ,the heart of ,petrarch was   
frequently stimulated by ideas of       
voluptuous  pleasure1 even among the    
rocks of ,vaucluse1 where he sought an  
asylum  from love and ,laura4 ,he soon1 
however1 banished sensuality from his   
mind1  and1 by refining his passion1    
acquired that vivacity and heavenly     
purity  which breathes in every line of 
those immortal lyrics he composed among 
the rocks4 ,but the city of ,avignon1 in
 which the object thus tenderly  beloved
 resided1 was not sufficiently distant  
from the place of his  retreat1 and he  
visited it too frequently4 ,a passion   
indeed1 like that  which ,petrarch felt1
 leaves the bosom1 even when            
uncorrupted1 totally  incapable of      
tranquillity4 ,it is a violent fever of 
the soul1 which  inflicts upon the body 
a complication of painful disorders4    

,let lovers1  therefore1 while they     
possess some control over the passion   
which fills  their breasts1 seat        
themselves on the borders of a river1   
and reflect  that love1 like the stream1
 sometimes precipitates itself with     
violence  down the rocks2 and sometimes 
flowing with soft tranquillity along the
  plain1 meanders through meadows1 and  
loses itself beneath the peaceful       
shades of solitary bowers4    ,the      
tranquillity of solitude1 however1 may1 
to a mind disposed to  resign itself    
with humility to all the dispensations  
of heaven1 be  found not disadvantageous
 to the perturbations of love4 ,a lover 
whom  death has bereaved of the dear    
object of his affection1 seeks only     
those places which his favorite         
inhabited2 considers every other as     
desert and forlorn2 and expects that    
death alone is able to stop the  torrent
 of his tears4 ,such an indulgence of   
sorrow1 however1 cannot be  called a    
resignation to the will of ,god4 ,a     

lover of this description is  attached  
solely to the irrecoverable object of   
his increasing sorrows4  ,his distracted
 mind fondly hopes that she may still   
return2 he thinks  he hears her soft    
enchanting voice in every breeze2 he    
sees her lovely  form approaching1 and  
opens his expecting arms to clasp her   
once again  to his still throbbing      
breast4 ,but he finds1 alas6 his hopes  
are vain3  the fancy-breathing form     
eludes his grasp1 and convinces him that
 the  delightful vision was only the    
light and love-formed phantom of his    
sorrow-sickened mind4 ,a sad remembrance
 of her departed spirit is the  only    
comfort of his lingering life3 he flies 
to the tomb where her mortal  remains   
were deposited1 plants roses round her  
shrine1 waters them with  his tears1    
cultivates them with the tenderest care1
 kisses them as  emblems of her blushing
 cheeks1 and tastes1 with sighing       
transports1  their balmy fragrance as   
the fancied odor of her ruby lips4      

,it must afford infinite pleasure to    
every philosophic mind1 to reflect  on  
the victory which the virtuous ,petrarch
 gained over the passion that  assailed 
his heart4 ,during his retreat into     
,italy from love and ,laura1  his       
friends in ,france used every endeavor  
to induce him to return4 ,one  of them  
wrote to him3--8,what demon possesses   
you2--,how could you quit  a country in 
which you indulged all the propensities 
of youth1 and  where the graceful figure
 which you formerly adorned with so much
 care1  procured you such unbounded     
admiration8--,how can you live thus     
exiled  from ,laura1 whom you love with 
so much tenderness1 and whose heart is  
so  deeply afflicted by your absence80  
,petrarch replied3 8,your anxiety is    
vain3 ,i am resolved to continue where  
,i am4 ,i ride here safely at anchor2   
and all the hurricanes of eloquence     
shall never drive me from it4 ,how then 
can you expect to persuade me to  change
 this resolution1 merely by placing     

before my eyes the deviations  of my    
youth which ,i ought to forget2 by      
describing an illicit passion  which    
left me no other resource than a        
precipitate flight2 and by  extolling   
the meretricious advantages of a        
handsome person1 which too  long        
occupied my attention4 ,these are       
follies ,i must no longer think  of4 ,i 
am now rapidly approaching toward the   
last goal on the course  of life4       
,objects more serious and important now 
occupy my thoughts4  ,god forbid1 that1 
listening to your flattering            
observations1 ,i should  again throw    
myself into the snares of love1 again   
put on a yoke which  so severely galled 
me6--,the natural levity of youth       
apologizes1 in some  degree1 for the    
indiscretions it creates2 but ,i should 
despise myself1  if ,i could now be     
tempted to revisit either the bower of  
love1 or the  theatre of ambition4 ,your
 suggestions1 however1 have produced a  
proper  effect2 for ,i consider them as 

the oblique censures of a friend upon my
  past misconduct4 ,the solicitudes of  
the gay and busy world no longer        
disturb my mind2 for my heart has       
tenaciously rooted all its fibres in    
this delightful solitude1 where ,i rove 
at large1 free and unconstrained1       
without inquietude or care4 ,in summer  
,i repose upon the verdant turf  beneath
 the shade of some embowering tree1 or  
saunter along the enamelled  boarders of
 a cool1 refreshing stream4 ,at the     
approach of autumn ,i  seek the woods1  
and join the muses' train4 ,this mode of
 life is surely  preferable to a life at
 court1 where nothing but disgusting    
jealousies  and corroding cares exist4  
,i have now1 in short1 no wish1 except  
that1  when death relieves me both from 
pleasure and from pain1 ,i may recline  
my head upon the bosom of a friend1     
whose eyes1 while he performs the  last 
office of closing mine1 will drop a     
deploring tear upon my departing        
spirit1 and convey my remains1 with     

friendly care1 to a decent tomb in my   
native country40    ,these were the     
sentiments of the philosopher3 but1     
after a short  interval the man returned
 once again to the city of ,avignon1 and
 only  visited his retreat at ,vaucluse 
occasionally4    ,petrarch1 however1 by 
these continued endeavors to subdue the 
violence  of his passion1 acquired a    
sublimity and richness of imagination1  
which  distinguished his character1 and 
gave him an ascendency over the age in  
which he lived1 greater than any of the 
literati have since attained4  ,to use  
the expression of the poet1 he was      
capable of passing1 with the  happiest  
facility1        8,from grave to gay1   
from lively to severe30    and was      
enabled1 as occasion required1 to       
conceive the boldest  enterprises1 and  
to execute them with the most heroic    
courage4 ,he who  languished1 sighed1   
and even wept with unmanly softness1 at 
the feet  of his mistress1 breathing    
only the tender and affectionate        

language  of gentle love1 no sooner     
turned his thoughts toward the          
transactions  of ,rome1 than he assumed 
a higher tone1 and not only wrote1 but  
acted  with all the strength and spirit 
of the ,augustan age4 ,monarchs have    
relinquished the calls of hunger1 and   
the charms of rest1 to indulge  the     
tender luxuries his love-lorn muse      
afforded4 ,but at a more advanced  age  
he was no longer a sighing minstrel1    
chaunting amorous verses to a           
relentless fair2 he was no longer an    
effeminate slave1 that kissed the       
chains of an imperious mistress1 who    
treated him with disdain3 he became  a  
zealous republican1 who spread by his   
writings the spirit of liberty          
throughout ,italy1 and sounded a loud   
alarm against tyranny and tyrants4      
,great as a statesman1 profound and     
judicious as a public minister1 he  was 
consulted in the most important         
political transactions of ,europe1  and 
frequently employed in the most arduous 

and difficult negotiations4  ,zealously 
active in the cause of humanity1 he     
anxiously endeavored1 on  occasions1 to 
extinguish the torch of discord4 ,the   
greatest princes1  conscious of his     
extraordinary genius1 solicited his     
company1 and  endeavored1 by listening  
to his precepts1 to learn the noble art 
of  rendering their countries           
respectable1 and their people happy4    
,these traits of ,petrarch's character  
clearly evince that1 oppressed as he    
was by the passion of love1 he derived  
great advantages from solitude4  ,the   
retirement at ,vaucluse was not1 as is  
commonly imagined1 a pretence  to be    
nearer the person of ,laura1 for ,laura 
resided altogether at  ,avignon2 but a  
means of avoiding the frown of his      
mistress1 and of flying  from the       
contagion of a corrupt court4 ,seated in
 his little garden1  which was situated 
at the foot of a lofty mountain1 and    
surrounded by  a rapid stream1 his soul 
rose superior to the adversities of his 

fate4  ,his disposition1 indeed1 was    
naturally restless and unquiet2 but in  
his  tranquil moments1 a sound judgment1
 joined to an exquisite sensibility1    
enabled him to enjoy the delights of    
solitude with singular advantage2  and  
to find in his retreat at ,vaucluse1 the
 temple of peace1 the  residence of calm
 repose1 and a safe harbor against all  
the tempests of  the soul4    ,the flame
 of love1 therefore1 although it cannot 
be entirely  extinguished1 may be       
greatly purified and refined by         
solitude4 ,man  indeed1 ought not to    
extirpate the passions which the ,god of
 nature has  planted in the human heart1
 but to direct them to their proper     
ends4    ,to avoid such miseries as     
,petrarch endured1 the pleasures of     
retirement  should be shared with some  
amiable female1 who1 better than the    
cold  precepts of philosophy1 will      
beguile or banish1 by the charms of     
conversation1 all the cares and torments
 of life4    ,it has been said by a very

 sensible author1 that 8the presence of 
one  thinking being like ourselves1     
whose bosom glows with sympathy1 and    
whose  affection we possess1 so far from
 destroying the advantages of solitude1 
renders them more favorable4 ,if1 like  
me you owe your happiness to the  fond  
attention of a wife1 you will soon be   
induced1 by her kindness1 by  her tender
 and unreserved communication of every  
sentiment of her mind1  every feeling of
 her heart1 to forget the society of the
 world2 and your  happiness will be as  
pleasingly diversified1 as the          
employments and  vicissitudes of your   
lives40    ,the orator who speaks so    
eloquently must have felt with exquisite
  sensibility the pleasures he          
describes2 8,here10 says he1 8every kind
  expression is remembered2 the emotions
 of one heart correspond with  those of 
the other2 every thought is treasured   
up2 every testimony of  affection is    
returned2 the happy pair enjoy in each  
other's company  all the pleasures of   

the mind2 and there is no felicity which
 does  not communicate itself to their  
hearts4 ,to beings thus united by the   
sincerest affection1 and the closest    
friendship1 every thing that is  said or
 done1 every wish1 and every event1     
becomes mutually important4  ,no jealous
 fears1 no envious stings1 disturb their
 happiness2 faults are  pointed out with
 cautious tenderness and good nature2   
looks bespeak the  inclinations of the  
soul2 every wish and every desire is    
anticipated2  every view and intention  
assimilated2 and1 the sentiments of one1
  conforming to those of the other1 each
 rejoices with cordiality at the        
smallest advantage which the other      
acquires40    ,thus it is that the      
solitude which we share with an amiable 
object  produces tranquillity1          
satisfaction1 and heartfelt joy2 and    
makes the  humblest cottage a dwelling  
place of the purest pleasure4    ,love1 
in the shades of retirement1 while the  
mind and the heart are in  harmony with 

each other1 inspires the noblest        
sentiments2 raises the  understanding to
 the highest sphere of intellect3 fills 
the bosom with  increased benevolence2  
destroys all the seeds of vice1 and     
meliorates  and extends all the virtues4
 ,by its delightful influence the attack
  of ill-humor is resisted2 the violence
 of our passions abated2 the  bitter cup
 of human affliction sweetened2 all the 
injuries of the world  alleviated2 and  
the sweetest flowers plentifully strewed
 along the  thorny paths of life4 ,every
 unhappy sufferer1 whether the malady be
 of  the body or the mind1 derives from 
this source extraordinary comfort  and  
consolation4 ,at a time1 alas6 when     
every thing displeased me1 when  every  
object was disgusting1 when my          
sufferings had destroyed all the  energy
 and vigor of my soul1 when grief had   
shut from my streaming eyes  the        
beauties of nature1 and rendered the    
whole universe a dreary tomb1  the kind 
attentions of a wife were capable of    

conveying a secret charm1  a silent     
consolation to my mind4 ,oh6 nothing can
 render the bowers of  retirement so    
serene and comfortable1 or can so       
sweetly soften all our  woes1 as a      
conviction that woman is not indifferent
 to our fate4    ,solitude1 it is true1 
will not completely heal every wound    
which this  imperious passion is capable
 of inflicting on the human heart2 but  
it  teaches us to endure our pains      
without wishing for relief1 and enables 
us  to convert them into soft sorrow and
 plaintive grief4    ,both sexes in     
early youth1 but particularly females   
from fifteen to  eighteen years of age1 
who possess high sensibilities1 and     
lively  imaginations1 generally feel    
during the solitude of rural retirement1
  a soft and pleasing melancholy1 when  
their bosoms begin to heave with  the   
first propensities of love4 ,they wander
 every where in search of a  beloved    
object1 and sigh for one alone1 long    
before the heart is fixed in  its       

affection1 or the mind conscious of its 
latent inclination4 ,i have  frequently 
observed this disposition unaccompanied 
by any symptom of ill  health4 ,it is an
 original malady4 ,rousseau felt its    
influence at ,vevay1  upon the borders  
of the lake of ,geneva4 8,my heart10    
says he1 8rushed  with ardor from my    
bosom into a thousand innocent          
felicities2 and melting  into           
tenderness1 ,i sighed and wept like a   
child4 ,how frequently1 stopping  to    
indulge my feelings1 and seating myself 
on a piece of broken rock1 did  ,i amuse
 myself with seeing my tears drop into  
the stream60    ,retirement1 however1 is
 not equally favorable to every species 
of  affliction4 ,some bosoms are so     
exquisitely alive to the sense of       
misfortune1 that the indelible          
remembrance of the object of their      
affection preys upon their minds3 the   
reading of a single line written  by the
 hand they loved1 freezes their blood2  
the very sight of the tomb  which has   

swallowed up the remains of all their   
soul held dear1 is  intolerable to their
 eyes4 ,on such beings1 alas6 the       
heavens smile in  vain3 to them the     
new-born flowers and the twittering     
groves1 proclaiming  the approach of    
spring and the regeneration of vegetable
 nature1 bring  no charms2 the garden's 
variegated hues irritate their feelings2
 and the  silent retreats1 from which   
they once expected consolation1 only    
increase  their pains4 ,such refined and
 exquisite feelings1 the offspring of   
warm  and generous passion1 are real    
misfortunes2 and the malady they        
engender  requires to be treated with   
the mildest attention and the tenderest 
care4    ,but to minds of softer temper 
solitude possesses many powerful charms1
  although the losses they deplore are  
equally great4 ,such characters feel1   
indeed1 a sense of their misfortune in  
its utmost possible extent1 but  they   
soften its acuteness by yielding to the 
natural mildness of their  dispositions3

 they plant upon the fatal tomb the     
weeping willow and the  ephemeral rose2 
they erect mausolea2 compose funeral    
dirges2 and render  the very emblems of 
death1 the means of consolation4 ,their 
hearts are  continually occupied by the 
idea of those whom their eyes deplore2  
and  they exist under the sensations of 
the truest and most sincere sorrow1 in  
a kind of middle state between earth and
 heaven4 ,this species of sorrow  is of 
the happiest kind4 ,far be it from me to
 suppose it in the least  degree        
affected4 ,but ,i call such characters  
happy mourners2 because1 from  the very 
frame and texture of their              
constitutions1 grief does not destroy   
the energy of their minds1 but permits  
them to find consolation in those       
things which1 to minds differently      
constructed1 would create aversion4     
,they feel a heavenly joy in pursuing   
employments which preserve the  memory  
of those who are the subjects of their  
sorrow4    ,solitude will enable the    

heart to vanquish the most painful sense
 of  adversity1 provided the mind will  
generously lend its aid1 and fix its    
attention to a different object4 ,if men
 think there is any misfortune  from    
which they have no other resource than  
despair or death they deceive           
themselves2 for despair is no resource4 
,let such men retire to their  studies1 
and there seriously trace out a series  
of important and settled  truths1 and   
their tears will no longer fall2 but the
 weight of their  misfortunes will grow 
light1 and sorrow fly from their        
breasts4    ,solitude1 by encouraging   
the enjoyments of the heart1 by         
promoting  domestic felicity1 and by    
creating a taste for rural scenery1     
subdues  impatience1 and drives away    
ill-humor4 ,impatience is a stifled     
anger1  which men silently manifest by  
looks and gestures1 and weak minds      
ordinarily reveal by a shower of        
complaints4 ,a grumbler is never further
  from his proper sphere than when he is

 in company2 solitude is his  only      
asylum4 ,ill-humor is an uneasy and     
insupportable condition1 which  the soul
 frequently falls into when soured by a 
number of those petty  vexations which  
we daily experience in every step of our
 progress through  life2 but we need    
only to shut the door against improper  
and disagreeable  intrusions1 to avoid  
this scourge of happiness4              
,vexations1 indeed1 of every kind1 are  
much sooner quieted in the silence  of  
retirement than in the noise of the     
world4 ,a cheerful disposition1  a      
placid temper1 and well-regulated       
passions1 will prevent worldly          
vexations from interrupting our         
happiness4 ,by these attainments1 the   
deepest melancholy1 and most settled    
uneasiness of life1 have been           
frequently banished from the heart4 ,it 
is true1 that the progress in this  case
 is much more rapid in women than in    
men4 ,the mind of a lively female  flies
 immediately to happiness1 while that of

 a melancholy man still  creeps on with 
pain3 the yielding bosoms of the fair   
are easily elevated  or depressed4      
,these effects1 it is true1 may be      
produced by means less  abstracted than 
solitude2 by any thing that strikes the 
senses1 and  penetrates the heart4 ,men1
 on the contrary1 augment the disease1  
and fix  it more firmly in the bosom1 by
 brooding over its cause and            
consequences1  and are obliged to apply 
the most efficacious remedies1 with     
unshaken  constancy1 to effect a cure2  
for feeble prescriptions are1 in such   
cases1 of no avail4 ,the only chance1   
indeed1 of success1 is by exerting      
every endeavor to place the body under  
the regimen of the mind4 ,vigorous      
minds frequently banish the most        
inveterate evils1 or form a powerful    
shield against all the darts of fate1   
and1 by braving every danger1 drive     
away those feelings by which others are 
irritated and destroyed2 they  boldly   
turn their eyes from what things are1 to

 what they ought to be2  and with       
determined resolution support the bodies
 they are designed to  animate2 while   
weak minds surrender every thing        
committed to their care4    ,the soul1  
however1 always follows what is most    
agreeable to its  ruling passion4       
,worldly men generally delight in       
gaming1 feasting1  and debauchery2 while
 those who are fond of solitude feel1   
from a  consciousness of its advantages1
 no enjoyments equal to those its       
peaceful shades afford4    ,i now       
conclude my reflections upon the        
advantages of ,solitude to  the ,heart4 
,may they give greater currency to      
useful sentiments1  to consolatory      
truths1 and contribute in some degree to
 diffuse the  enjoyment of a happiness  
which is so much within our reach6      
,,chapter ,,iv4    ,the ,general        
,advantages of ,retirement4             
,retirement engages the affections of   
men whenever it holds up a picture  of  
tranquillity to their view4    ,the     

doleful and monotonous sound of the     
clock of a sequestered monastery1  the  
silence of nature in a still night1 the 
pure air on the summit of  a high       
mountain1 the thick darkness of an aged 
forest1 the sight of a  temple fallen   
into ruins1 inspire the soul with a soft
 melancholy1 and  banish all            
recollection of the world and its       
concerns4    ,the man who cannot hold a 
friendly correspondence with his own    
heart2 who  derives no comfort from the 
reflections of his mind2 who dreads the 
idea  of meditation1 and is fearful of  
passing a single moment with himself1   
looks with equal dread on solitude and  
on death4 ,he endeavors to enjoy  all   
the voluptuousness which the world      
affords2 drains the pernicious  cup of  
pleasure to its dregs2 and1 until the   
dreadful moment approaches  when he     
beholds his nerves shattered1 and all   
the powers of his soul  destroyed1 has  
not the courage to make the delayed     
confession1 8,i am  tired of the world  

and all its idle follies60    ,the      
legions of fantastic fashions to which a
 man of pleasure is obliged  to         
sacrifice his time1 impair the rational 
faculties of his mind1 and  destroy the 
native energies of his soul4 ,forced    
continually to lend  himself to the     
performance of a thousand little        
trifles1 a thousand mean  absurdities1  
he becomes by habit frivolous and       
absurd4 ,the face of things  no longer  
wears its true and genuine aspect2 and  
his depraved taste  loses all relish for
 rational entertainment or substantial  
pleasure4 ,the  infatuation seizes on   
his brain1 and his corrupted heart teems
 with idle  fancies and vain            
imaginations4    ,the inevitable        
consequences of this ardent pursuit of  
entertainments and  diversions are      
langor and dissatisfaction4 ,he has     
drained the cup of  pleasure to the last
 drop1 who is at length obliged to      
confess that all  his hopes are fled2   
who finds disappointment and disgust    

mingled with  every enjoyment2 who feels
 astonished at his own insensibility1   
and who  no longer possesses the magic  
of the enchantress1 imagination1 to gild
  and decorate the scene1 calls in vain 
to his assistance the daughters of      
sensuality and intemperance3 their      
caresses can no longer delight his  dark
 and melancholy mind3 the soft and syren
 song of luxury no longer can  dispel   
the cloud of discontent that hovers     
round his head4    ,behold that         
debilitated weak old man running after  
pleasures he can no  longer enjoy4 ,the 
airs of gayety which he affects render  
him ridiculous2  his attempts to shine  
expose him to derision2 his endeavors to
 display  the wit and eloquence of youth
 betray him into the garrulity of old   
age4 ,his conversation1 filled with     
repetition and tiresome narrative1      
creates disgust1 and only forces the    
smile of pity from the lips of his      
youthful rivals4 ,to the eye of wisdom1 
however1 who observed him through  all  

the former periods of his life1         
sparkling in the noisy circles of       
extravagance and vice1 his character    
always appeared the same4    ,the wise  
man1 in the midst of the most tumultuous
 pleasures1 frequently  retires within  
himself1 and silently compares what he  
might do with what  he is doing4        
,surrounded by1 and even when           
accidentally engaged in1 the  excesses  
of intoxication1 he associates only with
 those warm and generous  souls whose   
highly elevated minds are drawn toward  
each other by the most  virtuous        
inclinations and sublime sentiments4    
,the silent retreat of the  mind within 
itself1 has more than once given birth  
to enterprizes of the  greatest         
importance and utility2 and it is not   
difficult to imagine1 that  some of the 
most celebrated actions of mankind were 
first inspired among  the sounds of     
music1 or conceived amidst the mazes of 
the dance4 ,sensible  and elevated minds
 never commune more closely with        

themselves than in  those places of     
public resort in which the low and      
vulgar1 surrendering  themselves to     
illusion and caprice1 become incapable  
of reflection1 and  blindly suffer      
themselves to be overwhelmed by the     
surrounding torrent of  folly and       
distraction4    ,the unceasing pursuit  
of sensual enjoyment is merely a mean   
used by  the votaries of worldly        
pleasure1 of flying from themselves2    
they  seize with avidity upon any object
 that promises to occupy the present    
hour agreeably1 and provide             
entertainment for the day that is       
passing  over their heads4 ,to such     
characters the man who can invent hour  
after  hour new schemes of pleasure and 
open day after day fresh sources of     
amusement1 is a valuable companion      
indeed2 he is their best1 their only    
friend4 ,are then these lazy and        
luxurious votaries of sensual pleasures 
destitute of those abilities which might
 prevent this sacrifice of time1  and1  

if properly exerted1 afford them relief8
 ,certainly not4 ,but1 having  been     
continually led from object to object in
 the pursuit of pleasure1  the          
assistance of others has habitually     
become the first want and  greatest     
necessity of their lives3 they have     
insensibly lost all power of  acting for
 themselves1 and depend1 for every      
object they see1 for every  sensation   
they feel1 for every sentiment they     
entertain1 on those by  whom they are   
attended4 ,this is the reason why the   
rich1 who are seldom  acquainted with   
any other pleasures than those of sense1
 are1 in general1  the most miserable of
 mankind4    ,the nobility and courtiers
 of ,france think their enjoyments      
appear vain  and ridiculous only to     
those who have not the opportunity of   
partaking in  them2 but ,i am of a      
different opinion4 ,returning one       
,sunday from ,trianon  to ,versailles1  
,i perceived at a distance a number of  
people assembled  upon the terrace of   

the castle2 and on a nearer approach1 ,i
 beheld ,louis  ,,xv4 surrounded by his 
court1 at the windows of his palace4 ,a 
man very  richly dressed1 with a large  
pair of branching antlers fastened upon 
his  head1 whom they called the stag1   
was pursued by about a dozen others who 
composed the pack4 ,the pursued and the 
pursuers leaped into the great  canal1  
scrambled out again1 and ran wildly     
round and round1 amidst the             
acclamations of the assembly1 who loudly
 clapped their hands to testify  their  
delight1 and to encourage the diversion4
 8,what can all this mean80  said ,i to 
a ,french gentleman who stood near me4  
8,sir10 he replied1 with  a very serious
 countenance1 8it is for the            
entertainment of the court40  ,the most 
obscure and indigent individuals may    
certainly be much happier  than these   
masters of mankind with their melancholy
 slaves and miserable  entertainments4  
,direful condition6 ,is there then no   
occupation whatsoever1 no useful        

employment1 no rational recreation      
sufficiently high and dignified for     
such characters8--,are they reduced to  
the melancholy condition of not  being  
able to perform one good and virtuous   
action during the intervals  of         
suspended pleasure8 ,can they render no 
services to friendship1 to  their       
country1 to themselves8 ,are there no   
poor and miserable beings to  whose     
bosom they might afford charitable      
comfort and relief8 ,is it1 in  short1  
impossible for such characters in any   
way to improve themselves in  wisdom or 
in virtue8    ,the powers of the human  
mind are of greater extent than is      
generally  imagined4 ,he who1 either    
from taste or necessity1 exercises them 
frequently1 soon finds that the highest 
felicities of which our nature is       
capable1 reside entirely within         
ourselves4 ,the wants of life are1 for  
the  greater part1 merely artificial2   
and although sensual objects contribute 
most efficaciously to our happiness and 

delight1 it is not because they  are    
indispensably necessary for this        
purpose1 but because they have been     
rendered desirable by habit2 and1 from  
the pleasures they produce1 we  flatter 
ourselves that they are absolutely      
necessary to our felicity4 ,if1         
however1 we had fortitude to resist     
their charms1 and courage to seek our   
happiness in ourselves1 we should       
frequently find in our own bosoms a     
greater variety of resources than all   
the objects of sense are capable of     
affording4    ,amusements1 indeed1 may  
sometimes be found in those places to   
which the  sexes resort merely to see   
and to be seen4 ,the eye may be         
occasionally  gratified by the sight of 
objects really agreeable2 the ear may   
listen  to observations truly           
flattering4 ,lively thoughts and        
sensible remarks  now and then prevail4 
,characters equally amiable and         
interesting  occasionally mix among the 
group4 ,we may form acquaintance with   

men of  distinguished merit1 whom we    
should not otherwise have had an        
opportunity  of knowing2 and meet with  
women of amiable qualities1 and         
irreproachable  conduct1 whose refined  
conversation ravishes the ear with a    
delight  equal to that with which their 
exquisite beauty captivates the heart4  
,but by what a number of painful        
sensations must the chance of receiving 
these pleasures be purchased6 ,those    
whom reason or disgust restrain from    
mixing in the idle dissipations of life1
 cannot see without a sigh1 the  gay    
conceit1 the airy confidence1 the blind 
arrogance1 and the bold  loquacity1 with
 which these votaries of worldly        
pleasure proclaim a  felicity which is  
almost invariably deceitful2 nor observe
 without a  sigh1 the extravagant joy of
 so many great men1 and the absurd airs 
of so  many gray-headed children4       
,honor1 fame1 and pleasure are conceived
 to accompany an invitation to  the     
board of luxury2 although disease1 with 

leaden sceptre1 is known to  preside2   
and reproach and calumny are            
indiscriminately cast upon the  purest  
characters4 ,but he who feels the least 
energy of mind1 turns  with aversion    
from all society which tends to weaken  
its effect2 and  finds the simplest     
fare1 enjoyed with freedom and content  
amidst a happy  and affectionate family1
 ten thousand times more agreeable than 
the  rarest dainty1 and the richest     
wine1 with a society where he must sit  
ceremoniously silent in compliment to   
some reputed wit1 from whose lips       
nothing but absurdities and nonsense    
proceed4    ,the spiritless and crowded 
societies of the world1 where a round of
 low  and trifling amusements fills the 
hour of entertainment1 and where to     
display a pomp of dress and levity of   
manners is the only ambition1 may       
afford some pleasure to those light and 
empty minds who are impatient of  the   
weight of idleness2 but the wise man1   
who occasionally resorts to  them in    

search of rational conversation or      
temporary amusement1 and only  finds a  
dull unvaried jargon1 and a tiresome    
round of compliments1 will  turn with   
aversion from these temples of false    
delight1 and exclaim1 in  the language  
of the poet1        8,i envy none their 
pageantry and show1      ,i envy none   
the gilding of their wo4      ,give me1 
indulgent gods6 with mind serene1       
,and guiltless heart1 to range the      
sylvan scene2      ,no splendid poverty1
 no smiling care1      ,no well-bred    
hate or servile grandeur there3         
,the pleasing objects useful thoughts   
suggest2      ,the sense is ravish'd and
 the soul is blest3      ,on every      
thorn1 delightful wisdom glows1      ,in
 every rill a sweet instruction flows40 
,true social pleasure is founded on     
unlimited confidence1 on an             
affectionate and reciprocal interchange 
of sentiment and opinions4 ,a  tender1  
faithful1 refined1 and rational         
friendship1 renders the pleasures  of   

the world spiritless and disgusting4    
,how joyfully do we disencumber         
ourselves from the shackles of society1 
for that close and sublime  intercourse 
in which our inclinations are free1 our 
feelings generous1  our sentiments      
unbiassed2 where a mutuality of thought 
and action1 of  pleasure and of pains   
uninterruptedly prevail2 where the      
gentle hand  of love conducts us along  
the paths of truth and virtue2 where    
every  thought is anticipated before it 
escapes from the lips2 where advice1    
consolation1 and succor1 are            
reciprocally given and received in all  
the accidents and in all the misfortunes
 of life6 ,the soul1 touched  by the    
charms of friendship1 springs from its  
apathy and dejection1  and views the    
enlivening beam of hope awakening it to 
activity4 ,the  happy pair1 casting a   
retrospective glance on the time passed1
 mutually  exclaim with the tenderest   
emotions1 8,oh the delights that we have
  already experienced6--,oh the joys    

that we have already felt60 ,if the     
tear of affliction steal down the cheek 
of the one1 the other with  affection   
wipes it tenderly away4 ,the sorrows of 
one are felt with equal  sensibility by 
the other3 and what sorrow will not an  
intercourse of  hearts so closely and   
affectionately united1 entirely         
subdue6--,day after  day they           
communicate to each other all they have 
seen1 all they have  heard1 all that    
they feel1 and every thing that they    
know4 ,time flies  before them on his   
swiftest pinions4 ,they are never tired 
of each other's  company and            
conversation4 ,the only misfortune they 
fear1 the greatest  indeed they can     
possibly experience1 is the misfortune  
of being separated  by occasional       
absence or untimely death4    ,but human
 happiness is continually exposed to    
interruption4 ,at the very  moment alas2
 when we vainly think ourselves the most
 secure1 fate1 by  a sudden blow1       
strikes its unhappy victim even in our  

arms4 ,all the  pleasure of life then   
seems forever extinguished1 every object
 alarms  our mind1 and every place seems
 desert and forlorn4 ,in vain are our   
arms extended to embrace our loved1     
though lost companion2 in vain do  we   
invoke her return4 ,her well known step 
still seems to beat upon the  listening 
ear1 and promise her approach2 but      
suspended sense returns1  and the       
delusive sounds are heard no more4 ,a   
death-like silence reigns  around1 and  
involves us in the shades of dreary     
solitude1 unconscious of  every thing   
but our bleeding hearts4 ,wearied and   
dejected1 we imagine  ourselves no      
longer capable of loving or of being    
beloved2 and life  without love1 to the 
heart that has once felt its pleasures1 
is more  terrible than death4 ,so sudden
 a transition from the highest happiness
  to the deepest misery overpowers the  
mind4 ,no kind friend appears to        
assuage our sufferings1 or seems capable
 of forming an adequate idea  of our    

distress4 ,the pangs1 indeed1 which such
 a loss inflicts1 cannot  be conceived1 
unless they have been felt4 ,the only   
consolation of the  unhappy sufferer is 
to live in solitude1 and his only wish  
to die  alone4 ,but it is under         
circumstances like these that solitude  
enjoys  its greatest triumph1 and the   
afflicted sufferer receives the greatest
  benefits2 for there is no sorrow1     
however great1 no pang1 however         
powerful1 that it will not1 when wisely 
indulged1 at first soften1 and  at      
length subdue4 ,the remedy which        
solitude 8administers to a mind         
diseased10 is slow and gradual2 for the 
art of living alone requires much       
experience1 is subject to so many       
casualties1 and depends so materially   
upon the temperament of the patient1    
that it is necessary we should  attain a
 complete maturity before any great     
advantages can be derived  from it4 ,but
 he who is able to throw off the galling
 yoke of prejudice1  and possesses a    

natural esteem and fondness for         
retirement1 will not be  embarrassed as 
to the choice he ought to make under    
such circumstances4  ,indifferent to    
external objects1 and averse from the   
dissipations of the  world1 he will rely
 on the powers of his mind1 and will    
never be less  alone than when he is in 
the company of himself4    ,men of      
genius are frequently condemned to      
employments as disagreeable  to the turn
 and temper of their minds1 as the most 
nauseous medicine  must be to an empty  
stomach4 ,confined to toil on a dry and 
disgusting  subject1 fixed to a         
particular spot1 and harassed by        
subordinate duties1  they relinquish all
 expectation of tranquillity on this    
side the grave4  ,deprived of enjoying  
the common pleasures of nature1 every   
object  increases their disgust4 8,it is
 not for us10 they exclaim1 8that the   
youthful zephyrs call forth the budding 
foliage with their caressing  breath2   
that the feathered choir chant in       

enlivening strains their rural  songs2  
that the verdant meadows are decked with
 fragrant flowers40 ,but  set these     
complainers free1 give them liberty and 
leisure to think for  themselves1 and   
the enthusiasm of their minds will soon 
regenerate1 and  soar into the highest  
regions of intellectual happiness1 with 
the bold  wing and penetrating eye of   
the bird of ,jove4    ,if solitude be   
capable of dissipating the afflictions  
of persons thus  circumstanced1 what may
 not be expected from its influence on  
those who  are enabled to retire1 at    
pleasure1 to its friendly shades1 and   
who  have no other wish than to enjoy   
pure air and domestic felicity6 ,when   
,antisthenes was asked what advantages  
philosophy had afforded him1 he         
answered1 8,it has taught me to subdue  
myself40 ,pope says1 he never laid  his 
head upon his pillow1 without           
acknowledging that the most important   
lesson of life is to learn the art of   
being happy within ourselves4 ,and  it  

seems to me that we shall all find what 
,pope looked for1 when home  is our     
content1 and every thing about us1 even 
to the dog and the cat1  partakes of our
 affection4    ,health is certainly     
essential to happiness1 and yet there   
are  circumstances and situations1 under
 which the privation of it may be       
attended with tranquillity4    ,how     
frequently have ,i returned thanks to   
,god1 when indisposition has  prevented 
me from going abroad1 and enabled me to 
recruit my weakened  powers in solitude 
and silence6 ,obliged to drag through   
the streets  of the metropolis day after
 day during a number of years1 feeble in
  constitution1 weak in limbs2          
susceptible1 on feeling the smallest    
cold1  to the same sensation as if      
knives were separating the flesh from   
the  bone2 continually surrounded1 in   
the course of my profession1 with the   
most afflicting sorrows2 it is not      
surprising that ,i should thank the     
,almighty with tears of gratitude1 on   

experiencing even the relief which  a   
confinement by indisposition procured4  
,a physician1 if he possesses           
sensibility1 must1 in his anxiety to    
relieve the sufferings of others1       
frequently forget his own4 ,but1 alas6  
how frequently must he feel all the     
horrors of his situation1 when he is    
summoned to attend patients whose       
maladies are beyond the reach of        
medicine6 ,under such circumstances1 the
  indisposition which excuses my        
attendance1 and leaves me the powers of 
thought1 affords me comparatively a     
sweet repose2 and1 provided ,i am not   
disturbed by the polite interruptions of
 ceremonious visiters1 ,i enjoy a       
pleasing solitude4 ,one single day      
passed undisturbed at home in literary  
leisure1 affords to the mind more real  
pleasure than all the circles of        
fashionable entertainment are able to   
bestow4    ,the fear of being alone is  
no longer felt either by the young or   
old1  whenever the mind has acquired the

 power of employing itself in some      
useful or agreeable study4 ,ill humor   
may be banished by adopting a  regular  
course of reading4 ,books1 indeed1      
cannot be inspected without  producing a
 beneficial effect1 provided we always  
read with a pen or  pencil in our hand1 
and note down the new ideas that may    
occur1 or the  observations which       
confirm the knowledge we before         
possessed2 for reading  becomes not only
 useless1 but fatiguing1 unless we apply
 the information  it affords either to  
our own characters1 or to those of other
 men4 ,this  habit1 however1 may be     
easily acquired2 and then books become  
one of  the most safe and certain       
antidotes to lassitude and discontent4  
,by  this means a man becomes his own   
companion1 and finds his best and most  
cheerful friend in his own heart4       
,pleasures of this kind certainly       
surpass in a great degree all those     
which result merely from the indulgence 
of the senses4 ,the pleasures of  the   

mind1 generally speaking1 signify       
sublime meditation1 the profound        
deductions of reason1 and the brilliant 
effusions of the imagination2  but there
 are also others1 for the perfect       
enjoyment of which1 neither  extensive  
knowledge nor extraordinary talents are 
necessary4 ,such are  the pleasures     
which result from active labor2         
pleasures equally within  the reach of  
the ignorant and learned1 and not less  
exquisite than  those which result from 
the mind4 ,manual exertions1 therefore1 
ought  never to be despised4 ,i am      
acquainted with gentlemen who understand
 the  mechanism of their watches1 who   
are able to work as painters1           
locksmiths1  carpenters1 and who are not
 only possessed of the tools and        
implements  of every trade1 but know how
 to use them4 ,such men never feel the  
least  disquietude from the want of     
society1 and are in general the happiest
  characters in existence4    ,mental   
pleasures are within the reach of all   

persons who1 free1  tranquil1 and       
affectionate1 are contented with        
themselves1 and at peace  with their    
fellow-creatures4 ,the mind contemplates
 the pranks of school1  the sprightly   
aberrations of our boyish days1 the     
wanton stories of  early youth1 our     
plays and pastimes1 and all the little  
hopes and fears  of infancy1 with fond  
delight4 ,oh6 with what approving smiles
 and soft  regret1 the aged cast their  
eyes upon those happy times when        
youthful  inclination prompted all their
 actions1 when every enterprise was     
undertaken with lively vigor1 and       
executed with undaunted courage2 when   
difficulties were sought merely for the 
purpose of surmounting them6 ,let  us   
compare what we were formerly with what 
we are at present2 or rather1  by giving
 our thoughts a freer range1 reflect on 
the various events we  have experienced 
or observed2 upon the means that the    
,almighty employs  to raise or sink the 
prosperity of empires2 upon the rapid   

progress  made1 even in our time1 in    
every art and science2 upon the         
diffusion of  useful knowledge1 and the 
destruction of dangerous prejudices2    
upon the  empire which barbarism and    
superstition have gained1               
notwithstanding the  exertions of genius
 and reason to prevent them2 upon the   
sublime power  of the human mind and its
 inefficient productions2 and languor   
will  instantly disappear1 and          
tranquillity1 peace1 and good humor     
prevail4    ,thus advantage may in      
solitude be attained and relished at    
every period  of our lives2 at the most 
advanced age1 as well as during the     
vigor of  youth4 ,he who to an unbroken 
constitution joins a free and contented 
mind1 and assiduously cultivates the    
powers of his understanding1  will1 if  
his heart be innocent1 at all times     
enjoy the purest and most  unalterable  
pleasures4 ,employment animates all the 
functions of the soul1  and calls forth 
their highest energies4 ,it is the      

secret consciousness  which every person
 of a lively imagination possesses1 of  
the powers of  the mind1 and the dignity
 they are capable of attaining1 that    
creates the  noble anxiety and ardor1   
which carries their efforts to the      
sublimest  heights4 ,but if1 either by  
duty or situation1 we maintain too close
 an  intercourse with society1 if we are
 obliged1 in spite of inclination1 to   
submit to frivolous and fatiguing       
dissipations1 it is only by quitting    
the tumult1 and entering into silent    
meditation1 that we feel that           
effervescence1 that desire to break from
 bondage1 to fly from past  errors1 and 
avoid in future every noisy and         
tumultuous pleasure4    ,the mind never 
feels with more energy and satisfaction 
that it lives1  that it is rational1    
great1 active1 free1 and immortal1 than 
during those  moments in which it       
excludes idle and impertinent intruders4
    ,of all the vexations of life1 there
 are none so insupportable1 as those    

insipid visits1 those annoying          
partialities1 which occupy the time of  
frivolous and fashionable characters4   
8,my thoughts10 says ,rousseau1 8will   
only come when they please1 and not when
 ,i choose30 and therefore the          
intrusions of strangers1 or of mere     
acquaintances1 were always extremely    
odious to him4 ,it was for this reason  
alone that this extraordinary           
character1 who seldom experienced an    
hour of tranquillity1 felt such         
indignation against the importunate     
civilities and empty compliments  of    
common conversation1 whilst he enjoyed  
the rational intercourse of  sensible   
and well-informed minds with the highest
 delight4 ,how frequently  are the      
brightest beams of intellect obscured by
 associating with low  and little minds6
 ,how frequently do the soundest        
understandings become  frivolous1 by    
keeping frivolous company6 ,for1        
although these bright beams  are        
immediate emanations from the ,deity on 

the mind of man1 they must be  matured  
by meditation and reflection1 before    
they can give elevation to  genius1 and 
consistency to character4    ,virtues to
 which the mind cannot rise even when   
assisted by the most  advantageous      
intercourse1 are frequently the fruits  
of solitude4 ,deprived  for ever of the 
company and conversation of those whom  
we love and  esteem1 we endeavor to     
charm the uneasy void by every effort in
 our  power2 but while love and         
friendship lead us by the hand1 and     
cherish us  by their care1 we lean      
incessantly on their bosoms1 and remain 
inert4  ,solitude1 were it for this     
reason alone1 is indispensably necessary
 to  the human character2 for when men  
are enabled to depend on themselves     
alone1 the soul1 tossed about by the    
tempest of life1 acquires new vigor2    
learns to bear with constancy1 or avoid 
with address1 those dangerous  rocks on 
which vulgar minds are inevitably       
wrecked2 and discovers  continually new 

resources1 by which the mind resists1   
with stoic courage1  the rigors of its  
fate4    ,weak minds always conceive it 
most safe to adopt the sentiments of the
  multitude4 ,they never venture to     
express an opinion upon any subject     
until the majority have decided2 and    
blindly follow the sentiments of  the   
many1 whether upon men or things1       
without troubling themselves to  inquire
 who are right1 or on which side truth  
preponderates4 ,a love of  equity and   
truth1 indeed1 is seldom found1 except  
in those who have no  dread of solitude4
 ,men of dissipation never protect the  
weak1 or avenge  the oppressed4 ,if the 
various and powerful hosts of knaves and
 fools are  your enemies2 if you have   
been injured in your property by        
injustice1 or  traduced in your fame by 
calumny1 you must not fly for protection
 and  redress to men of light and       
dissipated characters2 for they are     
merely  the organs of error1 and the    
conduit pipes of prejudice4    ,the     

knowledge of ourselves is in solitude   
more easily and effectually  acquired   
than in any other situation2 for we     
there live in habits of  the strictest  
intimacy with our own bosoms4 ,it is    
certainly possible  for men to be       
deliberate and wise1 even amidst all the
 tumultuous folly  of the world1        
especially if their principles be well  
fixed before they  enter on the stage of
 life2 but integrity is undoubtedly more
 easily  preserved in the innocent      
simplicity of solitude1 than in the     
corrupted  intercourses of society4 ,in 
the world how many men please only by   
their  vices6 ,how many profligate      
villains1 and unprincipled adventurers  
of  insinuating manners1 are well       
received only because they have learnt  
the  art of administering to the        
follies1 the weaknesses1 and the vices  
of  others6 ,the mind1 intoxicated with 
the fumes of that incense which artful  
flattery is continually offering to it1 
is rendered incapable of justly         

appreciating the characters of men4 ,on 
the contrary1 we truly discover in  the 
silence of solitude1 the inward         
complexion of the heart2 and learn  not 
only what the characters of men are1 but
 what in truth and nature  they ought to
 be4    ,how many new and useful        
discoveries may be made by occasionally 
forcing  ourselves from the vortex of   
the world1 and retiring to the calm     
enjoyments of study and reflection6 ,to 
accomplish this end1 it is only         
necessary to commence seriously with our
 hearts1 and to examine our  actions    
with impartiality4 ,the worldly-minded  
man1 indeed1 has reason  to avoid this  
self-examination1 for the result would  
in all probability  be painful to his   
feelings2 as he who only judges of      
himself by the  flattering opinions     
which others may have expressed of his  
character1  will1 in such a scrutiny1   
behold with surprise that he is the     
miserable  slave of habit and public    
opinion2 submitting himself with        

scrupulous  exactness1 and the best     
possible grace1 to the tyranny of       
fashion and  established ceremony2 never
 venturing to oppose their influence1   
however  ridiculous and absurd it may   
be2 and obsequiously following the      
example  of others1 without daring to   
resist pursuits which every one seems so
  highly to approve4 ,he will perceive1 
that almost all his thoughts and        
actions are engendered by a base fear of
 himself1 or arise from a servile       
complaisance to others2 that he only    
seeks to flatter the vanities1 and      
indulge the caprices of his superiors1  
and becomes the contemptible  minister  
of these men1 without daring to offer   
them the smallest  contradiction1 or    
hazard an opinion that is likely to give
 them the least  displeasure4 ,whoever1 
with calm consideration1 views this     
terrifying  picture1 will feel1 in the  
silent emotions of his heart1 the       
necessity  of occasionally retiring into
 solitude1 and seeking society with men 

of  nobler sentiments and purer         
principles4    ,let every one1          
therefore1 who wishes to think with     
dignity1 or live  with ease1 seek the   
retreats of solitude1 and enter into a  
friendly  intercourse with his own      
heart4 ,how small a portion of true     
philosophy1  with an enlightened        
understanding1 will render it humble and
 compliant6  ,but in the mists of       
prejudice1 dazzled by the intellectual  
glimmer of  false lights1 every one     
mistakes the true path1 and seeks for   
happiness  in the shades of darkness1   
and in the labyrinths of obscurity4 ,the
  habits of retirement and tranquillity 
can alone enable us to make  a just     
estimate of men and things1 and it is by
 renouncing all the  prepossessions     
which the corruptions of society have   
implanted in the  mind1 that we make the
 first advances toward the restoration  
of reason1  and the attainment of       
felicity4    ,we have hitherto only     
pointed out one class of the general    

advantages  which may be derived from   
rational solitude1 but there are many   
others  which apply still more closely  
to men's business and bosoms4 ,who1     
alas6  is there that has not experienced
 its comforting influence in the        
keenest adversities of life8 ,who is    
there that does not seek relief from    
its friendly shades in the langors of   
convalescence1 in the pangs of          
affliction1 and even in that distressful
 moment when death deprives us of  those
 whose company was the charm and solace 
of our lives8 ,happy are they  who know 
the advantages of a religious           
retirement1 of that holy rest in  which 
the virtues rivet themselves more       
closely to the soul1 and in which  every
 man1 when he is on the bed of death1   
devoutly wishes he had lived4    ,but   
these advantages become more            
conspicuous1 when we compare the manner 
of thinking which employs the mind of a 
solitary philosopher with that of  a    
worldly sensualist2 the tiresome        

tumultuous life of the one1 with the    
ease and tranquillity of the other2 the 
horrors which disturb the death  bed of 
vice1 with the calm sigh which          
accompanies the expiring soul of        
virtue4 ,this is the awful moment in    
which we feel how important it is  to   
commune morally with ourselves1 and     
religiously with our ,creator2 to       
enable us to bear the sufferings of life
 with dignity1 and the pains of  death  
with ease4    ,the sick1 the sorrowful1 
and the discontented1 may find equal    
relief  in solitude2 it administers a   
balm to their tortured souls1 heals the 
deep and painful wounds they have       
received1 and in time restores them  to 
their pristine health and vigor4 ,the   
deceitful shrine in which the           
intoxication of sensuality involved     
health and happiness disappears1  and   
they behold1 in the place of imaginary  
joys1 those objects only  which afford  
real pleasure4 ,prosperity arrays every 
object in the most  glowing and         

delightful colors2 but to adversity     
every thing appears black  and dismal4  
,nor are the errors of these contrary   
extremes discovered  until the moment   
when the curtain drops1 and dissipates  
the illusion3  the deceitful dream      
continues until the imagination is      
silenced4 ,the  unhappy then perceive   
that the ,almighty was watching over    
them1 even when  they conceived         
themselves entirely abandoned3 the happy
 then discover  the vanity of those     
pleasures and amusements to which they  
surrendered  themselves so implicitly   
during the intoxication of the world1   
and  reflect seriously upon their       
misconduct2 upon their present state and
  future destiny2 and upon the modes    
most likely to conduct them to true     
felicity4 ,how miserable should we be1  
were the ,divine ,providence to grant   
us every thing we desire6 ,at the very  
instant when we conceive all the        
happiness of our lives annihilated1     
,god1 perhaps1 is performing something  

extraordinary in our favor4 ,certain it 
is1 that patience and perseverance      
will1 in solitude1 convert the deepest  
sorrow into tranquillity and joy4       
,those objects which1 at a distance1    
appear menacing1 lose1 on a nearer      
approach1 their disagreeable aspect1    
and1 in the event1 frequently  produce  
the most agreeable pleasures4 ,he who   
tries every expedient1 who  boldly      
opposes himself to every difficulty1 who
 steadily resists every  obstacle1 who  
neglects no exertion within his power1  
and relies with  confidence on the      
assistance of ,god1 extracts from       
affliction both its  poison and its     
sting1 and deprives misfortune of its   
victory4    ,sorrow1 misfortune1 and    
sickness1 soon render solitude easy and 
familiar  to our minds4 ,how willingly  
do we renounce the world1 and become    
indifferent to all its pleasures1 when  
the insidious eloquence of the  passions
 is silenced1 and our powers are        
debilitated by vexation or ill  health6 

,it is then we perceive the weakness of 
those succors which the  world affords4 
,how many useful truths1 alas6 has the  
bed of sickness  and sorrow instilled   
even into the minds of kings and        
princes6 truths  which1 in the hour of  
health1 they would have been unable to  
learn amidst  the deceitful counsels of 
their pretended friends4 ,the time1     
indeed1 in  which a valetudinarian is   
capable of employing his powers with    
facility  and success1 in a manner      
conformable to his designs1 is short1   
and runs  rapidly away4 ,those only who 
enjoy robust health can exclaim1 8,time 
is  my own20 for he who labors under    
continual sickness and suffering1 and   
whose avocations depend on the public   
necessity or caprice1 can never  say    
that he has one moment to himself4 ,he  
must watch the fleeting hours  as they  
pass1 and seize an interval of leisure  
when and where he can4  ,necessity1 as  
well as reason1 convinces him that he   
must1 in spite of his  daily sufferings1

 his wearied body1 or his harassed mind1
 firmly resist  his accumulating        
troubles2 and1 if he would save himself 
from becoming  the victim of dejection1 
he must manfully combat the difficulties
 by  which he is attacked4 ,the more we 
enervate ourselves1 the more we become  
the prey of ill health2 but determined  
courage1 and obstinate resistance1      
frequently renovate our powers2 and he  
who1 in the calm of solitude1           
vigorously wrestles with misfortune1 is1
 in the event1 sure of gaining  the     
victory4    ,the influence of the mind  
upon the body is a consolatory truth to 
those who are subject to constitutional 
complaints4 ,supported by this          
reflection1 the efforts of reason       
continue unsubdued2 the influence of    
religion maintains its empire2 and the  
lamentable truth1 that men of  the      
finest sensibility1 and most cultivated 
understanding1 frequently  possess less 
fortitude under affliction than the most
 vulgar of mankind1  remains unknown4   

,campanella1 incredible as it may seem1 
suffered by the  indulgence of          
melancholy reflections1 a species of    
mental torture more  painful than any   
bodily torture could have produced4 ,i  
can1 however1  from my own experience1  
assert1 that1 even in the extremity of  
distress1  every object which diverts   
the attention1 softens the evils we     
endure1  and frequently drives them     
entirely away4 ,by diverting the        
attention1  many celebrated philosophers
 have been able not only to preserve a  
tranquil mind in the midst of the most  
poignant sufferings1 but have  even     
increased the strength of their         
intellectual faculties1 in spite of     
their corporeal pains4 ,rousseau        
composed the greater part of his        
immortal  works under the continual     
pressure of sickness and sorrow4        
,gellert1  who1 by his mild1 agreeable1 
and instructive writings1 has become the
  preceptor of ,germany1 certainly      
found1 in this interesting occupation1  

the secret remedy against melancholy4   
,mendelsohm1 at an age far advanced  in 
life1 and not1 in general1 subject to   
dejection1 was for a long time          
oppressed by an almost inconceivable    
derangement of the nervous system2  but1
 by submitting with patience and        
docility to his sufferings1 he still    
maintains all the noble and high        
advantages of youth4 ,garve1 who was    
for several years unable to read1 to    
write1 or even to think1 has since      
produced his treatise upon ,cicero1 in  
which this profound writer1 so          
circumspect in all his expressions that 
he appears hurt if any improper  word   
escapes his pen1 thanks the ,almighty1  
with a sort of rapture1  for the        
weakness of his constitution1 because it
 had taught him the  extraordinary      
influence which the powers of the mind  
have over those of  the body4           
,solitude is not merely desirable1 but  
absolutely necessary1 to those          
characters who possess sensibilities too

 quick1 and imaginations too  ardent1 to
 live quietly in the world1 and who are 
incessantly inveighing  against men and 
things4 ,those who suffer their minds to
 be subdued by  circumstances which     
would scarcely produce an emotion in    
other bosoms2  who complain of the      
severity of their misfortunes on        
occasions which  others would not feel2 
who are dispirited by every occurrence  
which does  not produce immediate       
satisfaction and pleasure2 who are      
incessantly  tormented by the illusion  
of fancy2 who are unhinged and dejected 
the  moment prosperity is out of their  
view2 who repine at what they possess1  
from an ignorance of what they really   
want2 whose minds are for ever  veering 
from one vain wish to another2 who are  
alarmed at every thing1  and enjoy      
nothing2 are not formed for society1    
and1 if solitude have no  power to heal 
their wounded spirits1 are certainly    
incurable4    ,men who in other respects
 possess rational minds and pious       

dispositions1  frequently fall into low 
spirits and despair2 but it is in       
general almost  entirely their own      
fault4 ,if it proceed1 as is generally  
the case1 from  unfounded fears2 if they
 love to torment themselves and others  
on every  trivial disappointment or     
slight indisposition2 if they constantly
 resort  to medicine for that relief    
which reason alone can bestow2 if they  
fondly  indulge1 instead of repressing1 
these idle fancies2 if1 after having    
endured the most excruciating pains with
 patience1 and supported the  greatest  
misfortunes with fortitude1 they neither
 can nor will learn to  bear the        
puncture of the smallest pin1 or those  
trifling adversities to  which human    
life is unavoidably subject2 they can   
only attribute their  unhappy condition 
to their own misconduct2 and1 although  
they might1  by no very irksome effort  
of their understandings1 look with an   
eye of  composure and tranquillity on   
the multiplied and fatal fires issuing  

from  the dreadful cannon's mouth1 will 
continue shamefully subdued by the idle 
apprehensions of being fired at by      
pop-guns4    ,all these qualities of the
 soul1 fortitude1 firmness1 and stoic   
inflexibility1 are much sooner acquired 
by silent meditation than  amidst the   
noisy intercourse of mankind1 where     
innumerable difficulties  continually   
oppose us2 where ceremony1 servility1   
flattery1 and fear1  contaminate our    
dispositions2 where every occurrence    
opposes our  endeavors2 and where1 for  
this reason1 men of the weakest minds1  
and  the most contracted notions1 become
 more active and popular1 gain more     
attention1 and are better received1 than
 men of feeling hearts and  liberal     
understandings4    ,the mind1 in short1 
fortifies itself with impregnable       
strength in the  bowers of solitary     
retirement against every species of     
suffering and  affliction4 ,the         
frivolous attachments which1 in the     
world1 divert the  soul from its proper 

objects1 and drive it wandering1 as     
chance may  direct1 into an eccentric   
void1 die away4 ,contented1 from        
experience1  with the little which      
nature requires1 rejecting every        
superfluous  desire1 and having acquired
 a complete knowledge of ourselves1 the 
visitations of the ,almighty1 when he   
chastises us with affliction1  humbles  
our presumptuous pride1 disappoints our 
vain conceits1 restrains  the violence  
of our passions1 and makes us sensible  
of our inanity and  weakness1 are       
received with composure and felt without
 surprise4 ,how  many important truths  
do we here learn1 of which the worldly  
minded man  has no idea6 ,casting the   
eye of calm reflection on ourselves1 and
 on  the objects around us1 how resigned
 we become to the lot of humanity6  ,how
 different every object appears6 ,the   
heart expands to every noble  sentiment2
 the bloom of conscious virtue brightens
 on the cheek2 the mind  teems with     
sublime conceptions2 and1 boldly taking 

the right path1 we at  length reach the 
bowers of innocence1 and the plains of  
peace4    ,on the death of a beloved    
friend1 we constantly feel a strong     
desire to  withdraw from society2 but   
our worldly acquaintances unite in      
general to  destroy this laudable       
inclination4 ,conceiving it improper to 
mention the  subject of our grief1 our  
companions1 cold and indifferent to the 
event1  surround us1 and think their    
duties sufficiently discharged by paying
 the  tributary visit1 and amusing us   
with the current topics of the town4    
,such  idle pleasantries cannot convey a
 balm of comfort into the wounded heart4
    ,when ,i1 alas6 within two years    
after my arrival in ,germany1 lost the  
lovely idol of my heart1 the amiable    
companion of my former days1 ,i         
exclaimed a thousand times to my        
surrounding friends1 ,oh6 leave me  to  
myself6 ,her departed spirit still      
hovers round me3 the tender             
recollection of her society1 the        

afflicting remembrance of her sufferings
  on my account1 are always present to  
my mind4 ,what mildness and  affability6
 ,her death was as calm and resigned as 
her life was pure and  virtuous4 ,during
 five long months1 the lingering pangs  
of dissolution  hung continually around 
her4 ,one day1 as she reclined upon her 
pillow1  while ,i read to her 8,the     
,death of ,christ10 by ,rammler1 she    
cast her  eyes over the page1 and       
silently pointed out to me the following
 passage2  8,my breath grows weak1 my   
days are shortened1 my heart is full of 
affliction1 and my soul prepares to take
 its flight40 ,alas6 when ,i recall  all
 those circumstances to my mind1 and    
recollect how impossible it was  for me 
to abandon the world at that moment of  
anguish and distress1  when ,i carried  
the seeds of death within my bosom2 when
 ,i had neither  fortitude to bear my   
afflictions1 nor courage to resist them1
 while ,i was  yet pursued by malice1   
and traduced by calumny2 ,i can easily  

conceive1  in such a situation1 that my 
exclamation might be1 leave me to       
myself4  ,to a heart thus torn by too   
rigorous a destiny from the bosom that  
was  opened for its reception2 from a   
bosom in which it fondly dwelt2 from an 
object that it dearly loved1 detached   
from every object1 at a loss where  to  
fix its affections or communicate its   
feelings1 solitude alone can  administer
 comfort4    ,solitude1 when it has     
ripened and preserved the tender and    
humane  feelings of the heart1 and      
created in the mind a salutary distrust 
of  our vain reason and boasted         
abilities1 may be considered to have    
brought  us nearer to ,god4 ,humility is
 the first lesson we learn from         
reflection1  and self distrust the first
 proof we give of having obtained a     
knowledge  of ourselves4 ,when1 in      
attending the duties of my profession1  
,i behold1  on the bed of sickness1 the 
efforts of the soul to oppose its       
impending  dissolution1 and discover1 by

 the increasing torments of the patient1
 the  rapid advances of death2 when ,i  
see the unhappy sufferer extend his cold
  and trembling hands to thank the      
,almighty for the smallest mitigation of
  his pains2 when ,i hear his utterance 
choked by intermingled groans1 and  view
 the tender looks1 the silent anguish of
 his attending friends2 all  my         
fortitude abandons me2 my heart bleeds2 
and ,i tear myself from the  sorrowful  
scene1 only to pour my tears more freely
 over the lamentable  lot of humanity1  
to regret the inefficacy of those       
medical powers which  ,i am supposed    
only to have sought with so much anxiety
 as a mean of  prolonging my own        
miserable existence1        8,when in   
this vale of years ,i backward look1    
,and miss such numbers1 numbers too of  
such1      ,firmer in health1 and       
greener in their age1      ,and stricter
 on their guard1 and fitter far      ,to
 play life's subtle game1 ,i scarce     
believe      ,i still survive3 and am ,i

 fond of life      ,who scarce can think
 it possible ,i live8      ,alive by    
miracle6 ,if ,i am still alive1         
,who long have buried what gives life to
 live40    ,the wisdom that teaches us  
to avoid the snares of the world1 is not
 to be  acquired by the incessant       
pursuit of entertainments2 by flying1   
without  reflection1 from one party to  
another2 by continual conversation on   
low  and trifling subjects2 by          
undertaking every thing and doing       
nothing4 8,he  who would acquire true   
wisdom10 says a celebrated philosopher1 
8must  learn to live in solitude40 ,an  
uninterrupted course of dissipation     
stifles every virtuous sentiment4 ,the  
dominion of reason is lost amidst  the  
intoxications of pleasure2 its voice is 
no longer heard2 its  authority is no   
longer obeyed2 the mind no longer       
strives to surmount  temptations2 but   
instead of shunning the perils which the
 passions  scatter in our way1 we run   
eagerly to find them4 ,the idea of ,god1

 and the  precepts of his holy religion1
 are never so little remembered as in   
the  ordinary intercourses of society4  
,engaged in a multiplicity of absurd    
pursuits1 entranced in the delirium of  
gayety1 inflamed by the continual       
ebriety which raises the passions and   
stimulates the desires1 every  connexion
 between ,god and man is dissolved2 the 
bright and noble faculty  of reason     
obscured2 and even the great and        
important duties of religion1  the only 
source of true felicity1 totally        
obliterated from the mind1  or          
remembered only with levity and         
indifference4 ,on the contrary1 he  who1
 entering into a serious                
self-examination1 elevates his thoughts 
in  silence toward his ,god2 who        
consults the theatre of nature1 the     
spangled  firmament of heaven1 the      
meadows enamelled with flowers1 the     
stupendous  mountains1 and the silent   
groves1 as the temples of the ,divinity2
 who  directs the emotions of his heart 

to the great ,author and ,conductor of  
every thing2 who has his enlightened    
providence continually before his  eyes1
 must1 most assuredly1 have already     
lived in pious solitude and  religious  
retirement4    ,the pious disposition   
which a zealous devotion to ,god        
engenders in  solitude1 may1 it is true1
 in certain characters1 and under       
particular  circumstances1 degenerate   
into the gloom of superstition1 or rise 
into the phrenzy of fanaticism2 but     
these excesses soon abate2 and1         
compared with that fatal supineness     
which extinguishes every virtue1  are   
really advantageous4 ,the sophistry of  
the passions is silent during  the      
serious hours of self-examination1 and  
the perturbations we feel on  the       
discovery of our errors and defects1 is 
converted by the light of a  pure and   
rational faith1 into happy ease and     
perfect tranquillity4 ,the  fanatic     
enthusiast presents himself before the  
,almighty much oftener  than the        

supercilious wit who derides an holy    
religion1 and calls piety  a weakness4  
,philosophy and morality become in      
solitude the handmaids of  religion1 and
 join their powers to conduct us into   
the bowers of eternal  peace4 ,they     
teach us to examine our hearts1 and     
exhort us to guard  against the dangers 
of fanaticism4 ,but if virtue cannot be 
instilled  into the soul without        
convulsive efforts1 they also admonish  
us not to  be intimidated by the        
apprehension of danger4 ,it is not in   
the moment of  joy1 when we turn our    
eyes from ,god and our thoughts from    
eternity1 that  we experience those     
salutary fervors of the soul1 which even
 religion1  with all her powers1 cannot 
produce so soon as a mental affliction  
or a corporeal malady4 ,the celebrated  
,m4 ,grave1 one of the greatest         
philosophers of ,germany1 exclaimed to  
,dr4 ,spalding and myself1 8,i am       
indebted to my malady for having led me 
to make a closer scrutiny and  more     

accurate observation on my own          
character40    ,in the last moments of  
life1 it is certain that we all wish we 
had passed  our days in greater privacy 
and solitude1 in stricter intimacy with 
ourselves1 and in closer communion with 
,god4 ,pressed by the recollection  of  
our errors1 we then clearly perceive    
that they were occasioned by  not having
 shunned the snares of the world1 and by
 not having watched  with sufficient    
care over the inclinations of our       
hearts4 ,oppose the  sentiments of a    
solitary man1 who has passed his life in
 pious conference  with ,god1 to those  
which occupy a worldly mind1 forgetful  
of its  ,creator1 and sacrificing its   
dearest interests to the enjoyment of   
the  moment3 compare the character of a 
wise man1 who reflects in silence  on   
the importance of eternity1 with that of
 a fashionable being1 who  consumes all 
his time at ridottos1 balls1 and        
assemblies2 and we shall  then perceive 
that solitude1 dignified retirement1    

select friendships1  and rational       
society1 can alone afford true pleasure1
 and give us what  all the vain         
enjoyments of the world will never      
bestow1 consolation in  death1 and hope 
of everlasting life4 ,but the bed of    
death discovers most  clearly the       
difference between the just man1 who has
 quietly passed his  days in religious  
contemplation1 and the man of the world1
 whose thoughts  have only been employed
 to feed his passions and gratify his   
desires4 ,a  life passed amidst the     
tumultuous dissipations of the world1   
even when  unsullied by the commission  
of any positive crime1 concludes1 alas6 
very  differently from that which has   
been spent in the bowers of solitude1   
adorned by innocence1 and rewarded by   
virtue4    ,but1 as example teaches more
 effectually than precept1 and curiosity
 is  more alive to recent facts than    
remote illustrations1 ,i shall here     
relate  the history of a man of family  
and fashion1 who a few years since shot 

himself in ,london2 from which it will  
appear1 that men possessed even of  the 
best feelings of the heart1 may be      
rendered extremely miserable1 by        
suffering their principles to be        
corrupted by the practice of the world4 
,the honorable ,mr4 ,damer1 the eldest  
son of ,lord ,milton1 was five and      
thirty years of age when he put a period
 to his existence by means  perfectly   
correspondent to the principles in which
 he had lived4 ,he was  married to a    
rich lady1 the daughter-in-law of       
,general ,conway4 ,nature had  endowed  
him with extraordinary talents2 but a   
most infatuated fondness  for excessive 
dissipation obscured the brightest      
faculties of his mind1  and perverted   
many of the excellent qualities of the  
heart4 ,his houses1  his carriages1 his 
horses1 and his liveries1 surpassed in  
splendor  and magnificence every thing  
sumptuous and costly even in the superb 
and extravagant metropolis of ,great    
,britain4 ,the fortune he possessed  was

 great2 but the variety of lavish       
expenditures in which he engaged        
exceeded his income1 and he was reduced 
at length to the necessity of  borrowing
 money4 ,he raised1 in different ways1  
near forty thousand  pounds1 the greater
 part of which he employed with         
improvident generosity  in relieving the
 distresses of his less opulent         
companions2 for his  heart overflowed   
with tenderness and compassion2 but this
 exquisite  sensibility1 which was ever 
alive to the misfortunes of others1 was 
at  length awakened to his own          
embarrassed situation2 and his mind     
driven by  the seeming irretrievable    
condition of his affairs1 to the utmost 
verge  of despair4 ,retiring to a common
 brothel1 he sent for four women of  the
 town1 and passed several hours in their
 company with apparent good  spirits and
 unencumbered gayety2 but1 when the dead
 of night arrived1 he  requested of     
them1 with visible dejection1 to retire2
 and immediately  afterward drawing from

 his pocket a pistol1 which he had      
carried about  him the whole afternoon1 
blew out his brains4 ,it appeared that  
he had  passed the evening with these   
women in the same manner as he had been 
used to pass many others with different 
women of the same description1  without 
demanding favours which they would most 
willingly have granted1  and only       
desiring1 in return for the money he    
lavished on them1 the  dissipation of   
their discourse1 or at most1 the        
ceremony of a salute1 to  divert the    
sorrow that preyed upon his tortured    
mind4 ,but the gratitude  he felt for   
the temporary oblivion which these      
intercourses afforded1  sometimes       
ripened into feelings of the warmest    
friendship4 ,a celebrated  actress of   
the ,london theatre1 whose conversations
 had already drained  him of            
considerable sums of money1 requested of
 him1 only three days  before his death1
 to send her five and twenty guineas4   
,at that moment he  had only ten guineas

 about him2 but he sent her1 with an    
apology for his  inability to comply    
immediately with her request1 all he    
had1 and soon  afterward borrowed the   
remainder of the money1 and sent it to  
her without  delay4 ,this unhappy young 
man1 shortly before the fatal           
catastrophe1 had  written to his father1
 and disclosed to him the distressed    
situation he  was in2 and the very night
 on which he terminated his existence1  
his  affectionate parent1 the good ,lord
 ,milton1 arrived in ,london1 for the   
purpose of discharging all the debts1   
and arranging the affairs of his        
unhappy son4 ,thus lived and died this  
destitute and dissipated man6 ,how      
different from that life which the      
innocent live1 or that death which the  
virtuous die6    ,i hope ,i may be      
permitted in this place to relate the   
story of a young  lady whose memory ,i  
am extremely anxious to preserve2 for ,i
 can with  great truth say of her1 as   
,petrarch said of his beloved ,laura1   

8the world  was unacquainted with the   
excellence of her character3 for she was
 only  known to those whom she has left 
behind to bewail her loss40 ,solitude   
was all the world she knew2 for her only
 pleasures were those which a  retired  
and virtuous life affords4 ,submitting  
with pious resignation  to the          
dispensations of heaven1 her weak frame 
sustained1 with steady  fortitude1 every
 affliction of mortality4 ,mild1 good1  
and tender1 she  endured her sufferings 
without a murmur or sigh2 and although  
naturally  timid and reserved1 disclosed
 the feelings of her soul with all the  
warmth of filial enthusiasm4 ,of this   
description was the superior  character 
of whom ,i now write2 a character who   
convinced me1 by her  fortitude under   
the severest misfortunes1 how much      
strength solitude is  capable of        
conveying to the mind even of the       
feeblest being4 ,diffident  of her own  
powers1 she listened to the precepts of 
a fond parent1 and  relied with perfect 

confidence on the goodness of ,god4     
,taught by my  experience1 submitting to
 my judgment1 she entertained for me the
 most  ardent affection2 and convinced  
me1 not by professions1 but by actions1 
of her sincerity4 ,willingly would ,i   
have sacrificed my life to have  saved  
her2 and ,i am satisfied that she would 
as willingly have given up  her own for 
me4 ,i had no pleasure but in pleasing  
her1 and my endeavors  for that purpose 
were most gratefully returned4 ,a rose  
was my favorite  flower1 and she        
presented one to me almost daily during 
the season4 ,i  received it from her    
hand with the highest delight1 and      
cherished it as  the richest treasure4  
,a malady of almost a singular kind1 a  
hmorrhage  in the lungs1 suddenly       
deprived me of the comfort of this      
beloved child1  and tore her from my    
protecting arms4 ,from the knowledge ,i 
had of her  constitution1 ,i immediately
 perceived that the disorder was mortal4
 ,how  frequently during that fatal day 

did my wounded1 bleeding heart1 bend me 
on my knees before ,god to supplicate   
for her recovery4 ,but ,i concealed my  
feelings from her observation4 ,although
 sensible of her danger1 she never      
discovered the least apprehension of its
 approach4 ,smiles played around  her   
pallid cheeks whenever ,i entered or    
quitted the room2 and when worn  down by
 the fatal distemper1 a prey to the most
 corroding grief1 a victim  to the      
sharpest and most intolerable pains1 she
 made no complaint2 but  mildly answered
 all my questions by some short         
sentence1 without entering  into any    
detail4 ,her decay and impending        
dissolution became obvious to  the eye2 
but to the last moment of her life1 her 
countenance preserved a  serenity       
correspondent to the purity of her mind1
 and the affectionate  tenderness of her
 heart4 ,thus ,i beheld my dear and only
 daughter1 at  the age of five and      
twenty1 after a lingering suffering of  
nine long1  long months1 expire in my   

arms4 ,so long and so severe an attack  
was not  necessary to the conquest3 she 
had been the submissive victim of ill   
health from her earliest infancy2 her   
appetite was almost gone when we  left  
,swisserland3 a residence which she     
quitted with her usual sweetness  of    
temper1 and without discovering the     
smallest regret3 although a young  man1 
as handsome in his person as he was     
amiable in the qualities of his  mind1  
the object of her first1 her only       
affection1 a few weeks afterward  put a 
period to his existence4 ,during the few
 happy days we passed at  ,hanover1     
where she rendered herself universally  
respected and beloved1  she amused      
herself by composing religious prayers1 
which were afterward  found among her   
papers1 and in which she implores death 
to afford her a  speedy relief from her 
pains4 ,during the same period she wrote
 also many  letters1 always affecting1  
and frequently sublime4 ,they were      
couched  in expressions of the same     

desire speedily to reunite her soul with
  the ,author of her days4 ,the last    
words that my dear1 my beloved child    
uttered1 amidst the most painful        
agonies1 were these--8,to-day ,i shall  
taste the joys of heaven60    ,how      
unworthy of this bright example should  
we be1 if1 after having seen  the       
severest sufferings sustained by a      
female in the earliest period  of life1 
and of the weakest constitution1 we     
permitted our minds to be  dejected by  
misfortunes which courage might enable  
us to surmount6 ,a  female who under the
 anguish of inexpressible torments1     
never permitted  a sigh or complaint to 
escape from her lips1 but submitted with
 silent  resignation to the will of     
heaven1 in hope of meeting with reward  
hereafter4 ,she was ever active1        
invariably mild1 and always             
compassionate  to the miseries of       
others4 ,but we1 who have before our    
eyes the sublime  instructions which a  
character thus virtuous and noble has   

here given us2  we1 who like her1 aspire
 to a seat in the mansions of the       
blessed1 refuse  the smallest sacrifice1
 make no endeavor to stem with courage  
the torrent  of adversity1 or to acquire
 that degree of patience and            
resignation1  which a strict examination
 of our own hearts1 and silent communion
 with  ,god1 would certainly afford4    
,sensible and unfortunate beings6 ,the  
slight misfortunes by which you  are now
 oppressed1 and driven to despair 7for  
slight1 indeed1 they  are1 when compared
 with mine17 will ultimately raise your 
minds above  the low considerations of  
the world1 and give a strength to your  
power  which you now conceive to be     
impossible4 ,you now think yourselves   
sunk  into the deepest abyss of         
suffering and sorrow2 but the time will 
soon  arrive when you will perceive     
yourselves in that happy state in which 
the mind verges from earth and fixes its
 attention on heaven4 ,you will  then   
enjoy a calm repose1 be susceptible of  

pleasures equally substantial  and      
sublime1 and possess in lieu of         
tumultuous anxieties for life1 the      
serene and comfortable hope of          
immortality4 ,blessed1 supremely        
blessed1  is he who knows the value of  
retirement and tranquillity1 who is     
capable  of enjoying the silence of the 
groves1 and all the pleasures of rural  
solitude4 ,the soul then tastes         
celestial delight even under the deepest
  impressions of sorrow and dejection2  
regains its strength1 collects new      
courage1 and acts with perfect freedom4 
,the eye then looks with fortitude  on  
the transient sufferings of disease2 the
 mind no longer feels the  dread of     
being alone2 and we learn to cultivate1 
during the remainder of  our lives1 a   
bed of roses round even the tomb of     
death4          ,,chapter ,v4           
,advantages of solitude in exile4       
,the advantages of solitude are not     
confined to rank1 or fortune1 or to     
circumstances4 ,fragrant breezes1       

magnificent forests1 richly tinted      
meadows1 and that endless variety of    
beautiful objects which the birth of    
spring spreads over the face of nature1 
enchant not only philosophers1  kings1  
and heroes1 but ravish the mind of the  
meanest spectator with  exquisite       
delight4 ,an ,english author has very   
justly observed1 that  8it is not       
necessary that he who looks with        
pleasure on the color of a  flower1     
should study the principles of          
vegetation2 or that the ,ptolemaic  and 
,copernican systems should be compared1 
before the light of the sun  can        
gladden1 or its warmth invigorate4      
,novelty in itself is a source  of      
gratification2 and ,milton justly       
observes1 that to him who has been  long
 pent up in cities1 no rural object can 
be presented which will not  delight or 
refresh some of his senses40    ,exiles 
themselves frequently experience the    
advantages and enjoyments of  solitude4 
,instead of the world from which they   

are banished1 they form1  in the        
tranquillity of retirement1 a new world 
for themselves2 forget the  false joys  
and fictitious pleasures which they     
followed in the zenith  of greatness1   
habituate their minds to others of a    
nobler kind1 more  worthy the attention 
of rational beings2 and to pass their   
days with  tranquillity1 invent a       
variety of innocent felicities1 which   
are only  thought of at a distance from 
society1 far removed from all           
consolation1  far from their country1   
their families1 and their friends4      
,but exiles1 if they wish to insure     
happiness in retirement1 must1 like     
other men1 fix their minds upon some one
 object1 and adopt the pursuit  of it in
 such a way as to revive their buried   
hopes1 or to excite the  prospect of    
approaching pleasure4    ,maurice1      
prince of ,isenbourg1 distinguished     
himself by his courage  during a service
 of twenty years under ,ferdinand1 duke 
of ,brunswick1  and ,marshal ,broglio1  

and in the war between the ,russians and
 the ,turks4  ,health and repose were   
sacrificed to the gratification of his  
ambition  and love of glory4 ,during his
 service in the ,russian army1 he fell  
under  the displeasure of the empress1  
and was sent into exile4 ,the calamitous
  condition to which persons exiled by  
this government are reduced is well     
known2 but this philosophic prince      
contrived to render even a ,russian     
banishment agreeable4 ,while oppressed  
both in body and mind by the  painful   
reflections which his situation at first
 created1 and reduced by  his anxieties 
to a mere skeleton1 he accidentally met 
with the little  essay written by ,lord 
,bolingbroke on the subject of ,exile4  
,he read it  several times1 and1 8in    
proportion to the number of times ,i    
read10 said  the prince1 in the preface 
to the elegant and nervous translation  
he made  of this work1 8,i felt all my  
sorrows and disquietudes vanish40       
,this essay by ,lord ,bolingbroke upon  

exile1 is a master-piece of stoic       
philosophy and fine writing4 ,he there  
boldly examines all the adversities  of 
life4 8,let us10 says he1 8set all our  
past and present afflictions at  once   
before our eyes3 let us resolve to      
overcome them instead of flying  from   
them1 or wearing out the sense of them  
with long and ignominious  patience4    
,instead of palliating remedies1 let us 
use the incision knife  and the caustic1
 search the wound to the bottom1 and    
work an immediate  and radical cure40   
,perpetual banishment1 like             
uninterrupted solitude1 certainly       
strengthens  the powers of the mind1 and
 enables the sufferer to collect        
sufficient  force to support his        
misfortunes4 ,solitude1 indeed1 becomes 
an easy  situation to those exiles who  
are inclined to indulge the pleasing    
sympathies of the heart2 for they then  
experience pleasures that were  before  
unknown1 and from that moment forget    
those they tasted in the more           

flourishing and prosperous conditions of
 life4    ,brutus1 when he visited the  
banished ,marcellus in his retreat at   
,mitylene1 found him enjoying the       
highest felicities of which human       
nature is susceptible1 and devoting his 
time1 as before his banishment1  to the 
study of every useful science4 ,deeply  
impressed by the example  this          
unexpected scene afforded1 he felt1 on  
his return1 that it was  ,brutus who was
 exiled1 and not ,marcellus whom he left
 behind4 ,quintus  ,metellus ,numidicus 
had experienced the like fate a few     
years before4  ,while the ,roman people1
 under the guidance of ,marius were     
laying the  foundation of that tyranny  
which ,cesar afterward completed1       
,metellus1  singly1 in the midst of an  
alarmed senate1 and surrounded by an    
enraged  populace1 refused to take the  
oath imposed by the pernicious laws of  
the tribune ,saturnius2 and his intrepid
 conduct was converted1 by the  voice of
 faction1 into a high crime against the 

state2 for which he  was dragged from   
his senatorial seat by the licentious   
rabble1 exposed  to the indignity of a  
public impeachment1 and sentenced to    
perpetual  exile4 ,the more virtuous    
citizens1 however1 took arms in his     
defence1 and  generously resolved rather
 to perish than behold their country    
unjustly  deprived of so much merit3 but
 this magnanimous ,roman1 whom no       
persuasion  could induce to do wrong1   
declined to increase the confusion of   
the  commonwealth by encouraging        
resistance1 conceiving it a duty he owed
  to the laws1 not to suffer any        
sedition to take place on his account4  
,contenting himself with protesting his 
innocence1 and sincerely lamenting  the 
public phrenzy1 he exclaimed1 as ,plato 
had done before during the  distractions
 of the ,athenian commonwealth1 8,if the
 times should mend1  ,i shall recover my
 station2 if not1 it is a happiness to  
be absent  from ,rome20 and departed    
without regret into exile1 fully        

convinced of  its advantages to a mind  
incapable of finding repose except on   
foreign  shores1 and which at ,rome must
 have been incessantly tortured by the  
hourly sight of a sickly state and an   
expiring republic4    ,rutilius also1   
feeling the same contempt for the       
sentiments and manners  of the age1     
voluntarily withdrew himself from the   
corrupted metropolis of  the republic4  
,asia had been defended by his integrity
 and courage against  the ruinous and   
oppressive extortion of the publicans4  
,these noble and  spirited exertions1   
which he was prompted to make not only  
from his high  sense of justice1 but in 
the honourable discharge of the         
particular  duties of his office1 drew  
on him the indignation of the equestrian
  order1 and excited the animosity of   
the faction which supported the         
interests of ,marius4 ,they induced the 
vile and infamous ,apicius to become    
the instrument of his destruction4 ,he  
was accused of corruption2 and as  the  

authors and abettors of this false      
accusation sat as judges on his  trial1 
,rutilius1 the most innocent and        
virtuous citizen of the republic1  was  
of course condemned3 for1 indeed1 he    
scarcely condescended to  defend the    
cause4 ,seeking an asylum in the east1  
this truly respectable  ,roman1 whose   
merits were not only overlooked1 but    
traduced1 by his  ungrateful country1   
was every where received with profound  
veneration  and unqualified applause4   
,he had however1 before the term of his 
exile  expired1 an opportunity of       
exhibiting the just contempt he felt for
  the treatment he had received2 for    
when ,sylla earnestly solicited him  to 
return to ,rome1 he not only refused to 
comply with his request1 but  removed   
his residence to a greater distance from
 his infatuated country4    ,cicero1    
however1 who possessed in an eminent    
degree all the resources  and sentiments
 which are necessary to render solitude 
pleasant and  advantageous1 is a        

memorable exception to these instances  
of happy  and contented exiles4 ,this   
eloquent patriot1 who had been publicly 
proclaimed1 8the saviour of his         
country10 who had pursued his measures  
with undaunted perseverance1 in defiance
 of the open menaces of a  desperate    
faction1 and the concealed daggers of   
hired assassins1 sunk  into dejection   
and dismay under a sentence of exile4   
,the strength of his  constitution had  
long been impaired by incessant anxiety 
and fatigue2  and the terrors of        
banishment so oppressed his mind1 that  
he lost all  his powers1 and became1    
from the deep melancholy into which it  
plunged  him1 totally incapable of      
adopting just sentiments1 or pursuing   
spirited  measures4 ,by this weak and   
unmanly conduct he disgraced an event by
 which  ,providence intended to render  
his glory complete4 ,undetermined where 
to go1 or what to do1 he lamented1 with 
effeminate sighs and childish  tears1   
that he could now no longer enjoy the   

luxuries of his fortune1  the splendor  
of his rank1 or the charms of his       
popularity4 ,weeping over  the ruins of 
his magnificent mansion1 which ,clodius 
levelled with the  ground1 and groaning 
for the absence of his wife1 ,terentia1 
whom he soon  afterward repudiated1 he  
suffered the deepest melancholy to seize
 upon  his mind3 became a prey to the   
most inveterate grief2 complained with  
bitter anguish of wants1 which1 if      
supplied1 would have afforded him no    
enjoyment2 and acted1 in short1 so      
ridiculously1 that both his friends  and
 his enemies concluded that adversity   
had deranged his mind4 ,cesar  beheld   
with secret and malignant pleasure1 the 
man who had refused to act  as his      
lieutenant1 suffering under the scourge 
of ,clodius4 ,pompey hoped  that all    
sense of his ingratitude would be       
effaced by the contempt and  derision to
 which a benefactor1 whom he had        
shamefully abandoned1 thus  meanly      
exposed his character4 ,atticus himself1

 whose mind was bent on  magnificence   
and money1 and who1 by his temporizing  
talents1 endeavored  to preserve the    
friendship of all parties1 without      
enlisting in any1  blushed for the      
unmanly conduct of ,cicero2 and in the  
censorial style of  ,cato1 instead of   
his own plausible dialect1 severely     
reproached him for  continuing so meanly
 attached to his former fortunes4       
,solitude had no  influence over a mind 
so weak and depressed as to turn the    
worst side of  every subject to its     
view4 ,he died1 however1 with greater   
heroism than he  lived2 8approach1 old  
soldier60 cried he1 from his litter1 to 
,popilius  ,lnas1 his former client and 
present murderer1 8and1 if you have the 
courage1 take my life40    8,these      
instances10 says ,lord ,bolingbroke1    
8show that as change of place1  simply  
considered1 can render no man unhappy2  
so the other evils which  are objected  
to exile1 either cannot happen to wise  
and virtuous men1 or1  if they do happen

 to them1 cannot render them miserable4 
,stones are hard1  and cakes of ice are 
cold1 and all who feel them feel alike2 
but the good  or the bad events which   
fortune brings upon us1 are felt        
according to the  qualities that we1 not
 they1 possess4 ,they are in themselves 
indifferent  and common accidents1 and  
they acquire strength by nothing but our
 vice  or our weakness4 ,fortune can    
dispense neither felicity nor           
infelicity1  unless we co-operate with  
her4 ,few men who are unhappy under the 
loss of  an estate1 would be happy in   
the possession of it2 and those who     
deserve  to enjoy the advantages which  
exile takes away1 will not be unhappy   
when  they are deprived of them40    ,an
 exile1 however1 cannot hope to see his 
days glide quietly away in  rural       
delights and philosophic repose1 except 
he has conscientiously  discharged those
 duties which he owed to the world1 and 
given that  example of rectitude to     
future ages which every character       

exhibits who  is as great after his fall
 as he was at the most brilliant period 
of his  prosperity4          ,,chapter  
,,vi4    ,advantages of solitude in old 
age2 and on the bed of death4      ,the 
decline of life1 and particularly the   
condition of old age1 derive  from      
solitude the purest sources of          
uninterrupted enjoyment4 ,old age  when 
considered as a period of comparative   
quietude and repose1 as a  serious and  
contemplative interval between a        
transitory existence and an  approaching
 immortality1 is1 perhaps1 the most     
agreeable condition of  human life3 a   
condition to which solitude affords a   
secure harbor against  those shattering 
tempests to which the frail bark of man 
is continually  exposed in the short but
 dangerous voyage of the world2 a harbor
 from  whence he may securely view the  
rocks and quicksands which threatened   
his  destruction1 and which he has      
happily escaped4    ,men are by nature  
disposed to investigate the various     

properties of  distant objects before   
they think of contemplating their own   
characters2  like modern travellers who 
visit foreign countries before they are 
acquainted with their own4 ,but prudence
 will exhort the young1 and  experience 
teach the aged1 to conduct themselves on
 very different  principles2 and both   
the one and the other will find that    
solitude and  self-examination are the  
beginning and the end of true wisdom4   
,oh6 lost to virtue1 lost to manly      
thought1      ,lost to the noble sallies
 of the soul6      ,who think in        
solitude to be alone4      ,communion   
sweet2 communion large and high4        
,our reason1 guardian angel1 and our    
,god3      ,the nearest these when      
others most remote2      ,and all1 ere  
long1 shall be remote but these4    ,the
 levity of youth1 by this communion     
large and high1 will be repressed1  and 
the depression which sometimes          
accompanies old age entirely removed4   
,an unceasing succession of gay hopes1  

fond desires1 ardent wishes1 high       
delights1 and unfounded fancies1 form   
the character of our early years2  but  
those which follow are marked with      
melancholy and increasing sorrows4  ,a  
mind1 however that is invigorated by    
observation and experience1  remains    
dauntless and unmoved1 amidst both the  
prosperities and  adversities of life4  
,he who is no longer forced to exert his
 powers1 and  who at an early period of 
his life has well studied the manners of
 men1  will complain very little of the 
ingratitude with which his favors and   
anxieties have been requited4 ,all he   
asks is1 that the world will let him    
alone3 and having a thorough knowledge  
not only of his own character1 but  of  
mankind1 he is enabled to enjoy the     
comforts of repose4    ,it is finely    
remarked by a celebrated ,german1 that  
there are political  as well as         
religious ,carthusians1 and that both   
orders are sometimes  composed of most  
excellent and pious characters4 8,it    

is10 says this  admirable writer1 8in   
the deepest and most sequestered        
recesses of  forests that we meet with  
the peaceful sage1 the calm observer1   
the  friend of truth1 and the lover of  
his country1 who renders himself        
beloved by his wisdom1 revered for his  
knowledge1 respected for his  veracity1 
and adored for his benevolence2 whose   
confidence and friendship  every one is 
anxious to gain2 and who excites        
admiration by the eloquence  of his     
conversation1 and esteem by the virtue  
of his actions1 while  he raises wonder 
by the obscurity of his name1 and the   
mode of his  existence4 ,the giddy      
multitude solicit him to relinquish his 
solitude1  and seat himself on the      
throne3 but they perceive inscribed on  
his  forehead1 beaming with sacred fire1
 odi profanum vulgus et arceo2 and      
instead of being his seducers1 become   
his disciples40 ,but1 alas6 this        
extraordinary character1 whom ,i saw    
some years ago in ,weteravia1 who       

inspired me with filial reverence and   
affection1 and whose animated           
countenance announced the superior      
wisdom and happy tranquillity of his    
mind1 is now no more4 ,there did not    
perhaps at that time exist in any  court
 a more profound statesman3 he was      
intimately acquainted with all1  and    
corresponded personally with some of the
 most celebrated sovereigns  of ,europe4
 ,i never met with an observer who      
penetrated with such quick  and accurate
 sagacity into the minds and characters 
of men1 who formed  such true opinions  
of the world1 or criticised with such   
discerning  accuracy the actions of     
those who were playing important parts  
on its  various theatres4 ,there never  
was a mind more free1 more enlarged1    
more  powerful1 or more engaging2 or an 
eye more lively and inquisitive4 ,he    
was the man1 of all others1 in whose    
company ,i could have lived with  the   
highest pleasure1 and died with the     
greatest comfort4 ,the rural  habitation

 in which he lived1 was simple in its   
structure1 and modest in  its attire2   
the surrounding grounds and gardens laid
 out in the happy  simplicity of nature2
 and his fare healthy and frugal4 ,i    
never felt a  charm more powerful than  
that which filled my bosom while ,i     
contemplated  the happy solitude of the 
venerable ,baron de ,schautenbach at    
,weteravia4    ,rousseau1 feeling his   
end approach1 also passed the few       
remaining years  of an uneasy life in   
solitude4 ,it was during old age that he
 composed  the best and greater part of 
his admirable works2 but1 although he   
employed his time with judicious        
activity1 his feelings had been too     
deeply wounded by the persecutions of   
the world1 to enable him to find        
complete tranquillity in the bowers of  
retirement4 ,unhappily he continued     
ignorant of the danger of his situation1
 until the vexations of his mind1  the  
disorders of his body1 and his          
unpardonable neglect of health1 had     

rendered his recovery impossible4 ,it   
was not until he had been many years    
tormented by physicians1 and racked by a
 painful malady1 that he took up  his   
pen2 and his years increased only to    
increase the visible effect of  his     
mental and corporeal afflictions1 which 
at length became so acute1  that he     
frequently raved wildly or fainted away 
under the excess of his  pains4    ,it  
is observed by one of our refined       
critics1 that 8all ,rousseau wrote      
during his old age is the effect of     
madness40 8,yes10 replied his fair      
friend1 with greater truth1 8but he     
raved so pleasantly1 that we are        
delighted to run mad with him40    ,the 
mind becomes more disposed to seek its  
8guardian angel and its ,god10  the     
nearer it approaches the confines of    
mortality4 ,when the ardent  fire of    
youth is extinguished1 and the meridian 
heat of life's short  day subsides into 
the soft tranquillity and refreshing    
quietude of its  evening1 we feel the   

important necessity of devoting some few
 hours to  pious meditation before we   
close our eyes in endless night2 and the
 very  idea of being able to possess    
this interval of holy leisure1 and to   
hold  this sacred communion with ,god1  
recreates the mind1 like the approach of
  spring after a dull1 a dreary1 and a  
distressing winter4    ,petrarch        
scarcely perceived the approaches of old
 age4 ,by constant  activity he         
contrived to render retirement always   
happy1 and year after  year rolled      
unperceived away in pleasures and       
tranquillity4 ,seated in  a verdant     
arbor in the vicinity of a ,carthusian  
monastery1 about three  miles from      
,milan1 he wrote to his friend ,settimo 
with a simplicity of  heart unknown in  
modern times4 8,like a wearied          
traveller1 ,i increase  my pace in      
proportion as ,i approach the end of my 
journey1 ,i pass my  days and nights in 
reading and writing2 these agreeable    
occupations  alternately relieve each   

other1 and are the only sources from    
whence ,i  derive my pleasures4 ,i lie  
awake and think1 and divert my mind by  
every  means in my power2 and my ardor  
increases as new difficulties arise4    
,novelties incite1 and obstacles        
sharpen1 my resistance4 ,the labors ,i  
endure are certain1 for my hand is tired
 of holding my pen3 but whether  ,i     
shall reap the harvest of my toils ,i   
cannot tell4 ,i am anxious to  transmit 
my name to posterity3 but if ,i am      
disappointed in this wish ,i  am        
satisfied the age in which ,i live1 or  
at least my friends1 will know  me1 and 
this fame will satisfy me4 ,my health is
 so good1 my constitution  so robust1   
and my temperament so warm1 that neither
 the advance of years  nor the most     
serious occupation1 have power to       
conquer the rebellious  enemy by which  
,i am incessantly attacked4 ,i should   
certainly become its  victim1 as ,i have
 frequently been1 if ,providence did not
 protect me4 ,on  the approach of       

spring1 ,i take up arms against the     
flesh1 and am even at  this moment      
struggling for my liberty against this  
dangerous enemy40    ,a rural retreat1  
however lonely or obscure1 contributes  
to increase the  fame of those great and
 noble characters who relinquish the    
world at an  advanced period of their   
lives1 and pass the remainder of their  
days in  solitude3 their lustre beams   
from their retirement with brighter rays
  than those which shone around them in 
their earliest days1 and on the  theatre
 of their glory4 8,it is in solitude1 in
 exile1 and on the bed of  death10 says 
,pope1 8that the noblest characters of  
antiquity shone with  the greatest      
splendor2 it was then they performed the
 greatest services2  for it was during  
those periods that they became useful   
examples40 ,and  ,rousseau appears to   
have entertained the same opinion3 8,it 
is noble10  says he1 8to exhibit to the 
eyes of men an example of the life they 
ought to lead4 ,the man who1 when age or

 ill health has deprived him of         
activity1 dares to resound from his     
retreat the voice of truth1 and  to     
announce to mankind the folly of those  
opinions which render them  miserable1  
is a public benefactor4 ,i should be of 
much less use to my  countrymen1 were ,i
 to live among them1 than ,i can        
possibly be in my  retreat4 ,of what    
importance can it be1 whether ,i live in
 one place or in  another1 provided ,i  
discharge my duties properly80    ,a    
certain young lady of ,germany1 however1
 was of opinion that ,rousseau  was not 
entitled to praise4 ,she maintained that
 he was a dangerous  corrupter of the   
youthful mind1 and that he had very     
improperly  discharged his duties1 by   
discovering in his ,confessions the     
moral  defects and vicious inclinations 
of his heart4 8,such a work written by  
a man of virtue10 said she1 8would      
render him an object of abhorrence3  but
 ,rousseau1 whose writings are          
circulated to captivate the wicked1     

proves1 by his story of the ,ruban      
,vole1 that he possesses a heart of the 
blackest dye4 ,it is evident1 from many 
passages in that publication1 that  it  
was vanity alone which guided his pen2  
and from many others1 that he  felt     
himself conscious he was disclosing     
falsehoods4 ,there is nothing1  in      
short1 throughout the work that bears   
the stamp of truth2 and all  it informs 
us of is1 that ,madame de ,warens was   
the original from which  he drew the    
character of ,julia4 ,these unjustly    
celebrated ,confessions  contain1       
generally speaking1 a great many fine   
words1 and but very few  good thoughts4 
,if1 instead of rejecting every         
opportunity of advancing  himself in    
life1 he had engaged in some industrious
 profession1 he might  have been more   
useful to the world than he has been by 
the publication of  his dangerous       
writings40    ,this incomparable        
criticism upon ,rousseau merits         
preservation2 for1 in my  opinion1 it is

 the only one of its kind4 ,the         
,confessions of ,rousseau is a  work    
certainly not proper for the eye of     
youth2 but to me it appears one  of the 
most remarkable philosophic publications
 that the present age has  produced4    
,the fine style and enchanting colors in
 which it is written are  its least     
merits4 ,the most distant posterity will
 read it with rapture1  without         
inquiring what age the venerable author 
had attained when he gave  to the world 
this last proof of his sincerity4       
,age1 however advanced1 is capable of   
enjoying real pleasure4 ,a virtuous  old
 man passes his days with serene gayety1
 and receives1 in the  happiness he     
feels from the benedictions of all      
around him1 a rich reward  for the      
rectitude and integrity of his past     
life2 for the mind reviews  with joyful 
satisfaction its honorable and          
self-approving transactions3  nor does  
the near prospect of the tomb give      
fearful emotion to his  undismayed and  

steady soul4    ,the empress ,maria     
,theresa has caused her own mausoleum to
 be erected1  and frequently1           
accompanied by her family1 visits with  
serenity and  composure1 a monumental   
depository1 the idea of which conveys   
such  painful apprehension to almost    
every mind4 ,pointing it out to the     
observation of her children1 8,ought we 
to be proud or arrogant10 says  she1    
8when we here behold the tomb in which1 
after a few years1 the poor  remains of 
royalty must quietly repose80    ,there 
are few men capable of thinking with so 
much sublimity4 ,every  one1 however1 is
 capable of retiring1 at least          
occasionally1 from the  corruptions of  
the world2 and if1 during this calm     
retreat1 they shall  happily learn to   
estimate their past days with propriety1
 and to live the  remainder in private  
virtue and public utility1 the tomb will
 lose its  menacing aspect1 and death   
appear like the calm evening of a fine  
and  well spent day4        8,blest be  

that hand divine1 which gently laid     
,my heart at rest beneath this humble   
shed4      ,the world's a stately bark  
on dang'rous seas1      ,with pleasure  
seen1 but boarded at our peril2         
,here1 on a single plank1 thrown safe   
ashore1      ,i hear the tumult of the  
distant throng1      ,as that of seas   
remote1 or dying storms2      ,and      
meditate on scenes more silent still2   
,pursue my theme1 and fight the fear of 
death4      ,here1 like a shepherd      
gazing from his hut1      ,touching his 
reed1 or leaning on his staff1          
,eager ambition's fiery chase ,i see2   
,i see the circling hunt of noisy men   
,burst law's enclosure1 leap the mounds 
of right1      ,pursuing and pursued1   
each other's prey1      ,as wolves for  
rapine2 as the fox for wiles2      ,till
 death1 that mighty hunter1 earths them 
all40    ,when ,addison perceived that  
he was given over by his physicians1 and
  felt his end approaching1 he sent for 
,lord ,warwick1 a young man of very     

irregular life and loose opinions1 whom 
he had diligently1 but vainly           
endeavored to reclaim1 but who by no    
means wanted respect for the  person of 
his preceptor1 and was sensible of the  
loss he was about to  sustain4 ,when he 
entered the chamber of his dying friend1
 ,addison1 who  was extremely feeble1   
and whose life at that moment hung      
quivering on  his lips1 observed a      
profound silence4 ,the youth1 after a   
long and awful  pause1 at length said1  
in low and trembling accents1 8,sir1 you
 desired to  see me3 signify your       
commands1 and be assured ,i will execute
 them with  religious fidelity40        
,addison took him by the hand1 and with 
his expiring  breath replied1 8observe  
with what tranquillity a ,christian can 
die40  ,such is the consolation which   
springs from a due sense of the         
principles1  and a proper practice of   
the precepts of our holy religion3 such 
is the  high reward a life of simplicity
 and innocence bestows4    ,he who      

during the retirement of the day        
seriously studies1 and during  the      
silence of the night piously            
contemplates the august doctrines of    
revelation1 will be convinced of their  
power by experiencing their  effect4 ,he
 will review with composure his past    
errors in society1  perceive with       
satisfaction his present comfort in     
solitude1 and aspire  with hope to      
future happiness in heaven4 ,he will    
think with the freedom  of a            
philosopher1 live with the piety of a   
,christian1 and renounce with  ease the 
poisonous pleasures of society from a   
conviction that they  weaken the        
energies of his mind1 and prevent his   
heart from raising  itself toward his   
,god4 ,disgusted with the vanities and  
follies of public  life1 he will retire 
into privacy1 and contemplate the       
importance  of eternity4 ,even if he be 
still obliged occasionally to venture on
  the stormy sea of busy life1 he will  
avoid with greater skill and  prudence  

the rocks and sands by which he is      
surrounded1 and steer with  greater     
certainty and effect from the tempests  
which most threaten his  destruction2   
rejoicing less at the pleasant course   
which a favorable wind  and clear sky   
may afford him1 than at his having      
happily eluded such a  multitude of     
dangers4    ,the hours consecrated to   
,god in solitude1 are not only the most 
important1 but when we are habituated to
 this holy communion1 the  happiest of  
our lives4 ,every time we silently      
elevate our thoughts toward  the great  
,author of our being1 we recur to a     
contemplation of ourselves3  and being  
rendered sensible of our nearer         
approach1 not only in idea1 but  in     
reality1 to the seat of eternal         
felicity1 we retire1 without regret1    
from the noisy multitude of the world4  
,a philosophic view and complete        
knowledge of the nature of the species  
creep by degrees upon the mind3  we     
scrutinize our characters with greater  

severity2 feel with redoubled  force the
 necessity of a reformation2 and reflect
 with substantial effect  on the        
glorious end for which we were created4 
,conscious that human  actions are      
acceptable to the ,almighty mind only in
 proportion as they  are prompted by    
motives of the purest virtue1 men ought 
benevolently  to suppose that every good
 work springs from an untainted source  
and  is performed merely for the benefit
 of mankind2 but human actions are      
exposed to the influence of a variety of
 secondary causes1 and cannot  always be
 the pure production of an unbiassed    
heart4 ,good works1 however1  from      
whatever motive they arise1 always      
convey a certain satisfaction and       
complacency to the mind4 ,but when the  
real merit of the performer is to  be   
actually investigated1 the inquiry must 
always be1 whether the mind  was not    
actuated by sinister views1 by the hope 
of gratifying a momentary  passion1 by  
the feelings of self love1 rather than  

by the sympathies  of brotherly         
affection3 and these subtle and         
important questions are  certainly      
discussed with closer scrutiny1 and the 
motives of the heart  explored and      
developed with greater sincerity1 during
 those hours when we  are alone before  
,god than in any other situation4       
,firm and untainted virtue1 indeed1     
cannot be so easily and efficaciously   
acquired1 as by practising the precepts 
of ,christianity in the bowers of       
solitude4 ,religion refines our moral   
sentiments1 disengages the heart  from  
every vain desire1 renders it tranquil  
under misfortunes1 humble  in the       
presence of ,god1 and steady in the     
society of men4 ,a life passed  in the  
practice of every virtue1 affords us a  
rich reward for all the  hours we have  
consecrated to its duties1 and enables  
us in the silence of  solitude to raise 
our pure hands and chaste hearts in     
pious adoration to  our ,almighty       
,father6    ,how 8low1 flat1 stale1 and 

unprofitable1 seem all the uses of this 
world10 when the mind1 boldly soaring   
beyond this lower sphere1 indulges  the 
idea that the pleasures which result    
from a life of innocence and  virtue may
 be faintly analogous to the felicities 
of heaven6 ,at least1  ,i trust we may  
be permitted unoffendingly to conceive1 
according to our  worldly apprehensions1
 that a free and unbounded liberty of   
thought  and action1 a high admiration  
of the universal system of nature1 a    
participation of the divine essence1 a  
perfect communion of friendship1  and a 
pure interchange of love1 may be a      
portion of the enjoyments we  hope to   
experience in those regions of peace and
 happiness where no  impure or improper 
sentiment can taint the mind4 ,but      
notions like these1  although they      
agreeably flatter our imaginations1 shed
 at present but  a glimmering light upon
 this awful subject1 and must continue1 
like  dreams and visions of the mind1   
until the clouds and thick darkness     

which  surrounded the tomb of mortality 
no longer obscure the bright glories of 
everlasting life2 until the veil shall  
be rent asunder1 and the ,eternal  shall
 reveal those things which no eye hath  
seen1 no ear has heard1 and1  which     
passeth all understanding4 ,for ,i      
acknowledge1 with awful reverence  and  
silent submission1 that the knowledge of
 eternity is to the human  intellect    
like that which the color of crimson    
appeared to be in the mind  of a blind  
man1 who compared it to the sound of a  
trumpet4 ,i cannot1  however1 conceive1 
that a notion more comfortable can be   
entertained1  than that eternity        
promises a constant and uninterrupted   
tranquillity2  although ,i am perfectly 
conscious that it is impossible to form 
an  adequate idea of the nature of that 
enjoyment which is produced by          
happiness without end4 ,an everlasting  
tranquillity is1 in my imagination1  the
 highest possible felicity1 because ,i  
know of no felicity upon earth  higher  

than that which a peaceful mind and     
contented heart afford4    ,since1      
therefore1 internal and external        
tranquillity is1 upon earth1  an        
incontestable commencement of beatitude1
 it may be extremely useful  to believe1
 that a rational and qualified seclusion
 from the tumults  of the world1 may so 
highly rectify the faculties of the     
human soul1  as to enable us to acquire 
in 8blissful solitude0 the elements of  
that  happiness we expect to enjoy in   
the world to come4        ,he is the    
happy man1 whose life e'en now1         
,shows somewhat of that happier life to 
come3      ,who1 doom'd to an obscure   
but tranquil state1      ,is pleas'd    
with it1 and1 were he free to choose    
,would make his fate his choice3 whom   
peace1 the fruit      ,of virtue1 and   
whom virtue1 fruit of faith1            
,prepare for happiness2 bespeak him one 
,content1 indeed1 to sojourn while he   
must      ,below the skies1 but having  
there his home1      ,the world         

o'erlooks him in her busy search        
,of objects more illustrious in her     
view2      ,and occupied as earnestly as
 she2      ,though more sublimely1 he   
o'erlooks the world4      ,she scorns   
his pleasures1 for she knows them not2  
,he seeks not hers1 for he has proved   
them vain4      ,he cannot skim the     
ground like such rare birds             
,pursuing gilded flies1 and such he     
deems      ,her honors1 her emoluments1 
her joys4      ,therefore in            
contemplation is his bliss1      ,whose 
power is such1 that whom she lifts from 
earth      ,she makes familiar with a   
heaven unseen1      ,and shows him      
glories yet to be reveal'd4    ,,end    
,,of ,,part ,i4          ,,solitude4    
,,part ,,ii4    ,,the ,,pernicious      
,,influence ,,of ,a ,,total ,,seclusion 
,,from ,,society ,,upon ,,the ,,mind    
,,and ,,the ,,heart4          ,,chapter 
,i4    ,introduction4      ,solitude1 in
 its strict and literal acceptation1 is 
equally unfriendly  to the happiness1   

and foreign to the nature of mankind4   
,an inclination  to exercise the faculty
 of speech1 to interchange the          
sentiments of the  mind1 to indulge the 
affections of the heart1 and to receive 
themselves1  while they bestow on       
others1 a kind assistance and support1  
drives  men1 by an ever active1 and     
almost irresistible impulse1 from       
solitude  to society3 and teaches them  
that the highest temporal felicity they 
are capable of enjoying1 must be sought 
for in a suitable union of  the sexes1  
and in a friendly intercourse with their
 fellow creatures4  ,the profoundest    
deductions of reason1 the highest       
flights of fancy1  the finest           
sensibilities of the heart1 the happiest
 discoveries of  science1 and the most  
valuable productions of art1 are feebly 
felt1 and  imperfectly enjoyed1 in the  
cold and cheerless regions of solitude4 
,it is not to the senseless rock1 or to 
the passing gale1 that we can           
satisfactorily communicate our pleasures

 and our pains4 ,the heavy sighs  which 
incessantly transpire from the vacant   
bosoms of the solitary  hermit and the  
surly misanthropist1 indicate the       
absence of those high  delights which   
ever accompany congenial sentiment and  
mutual affection4  ,the soul sinks under
 a situation in which there are no      
kindred bosoms to  participate its joys1
 and sympathise in its sorrows2 and     
feels1 strongly  feels1 that the        
beneficent ,creator has so framed and   
moulded the temper  of our minds1 that  
society is the earliest impulse and the 
most powerful  inclination of our       
hearts4    ,society1 however1 although  
it is thus pointed out to us1 as it were
  by the finger of the ,almighty1 as the
 means of reaching our highest  possible
 state of earthly felicity1 is so       
pregnant with dangers1 that it  depends 
entirely on ourselves1 whether the      
indulgence of this instinctive          
propensity shall be productive of       
happiness or misery4    ,the pleasures  

of society1 like pleasures of every     
other kind1 must1 to be  pure and       
permanent1 be temperate and discreet4   
,while passion animates1  and           
sensibility cherishes1 reason must      
direct1 and virtue be the object  of our
 course4 ,those who search for happiness
 in a vague1 desultory1 and             
indiscriminate intercourse with the     
world2 who imagine the palace of        
pleasure to be surrounded by the gay1   
unthinking1 and volatile part of  the   
species2 who conceive that the rays of  
all human delight beam from  places of  
public festivity and resort2            
8,who all their joys in mean profusion  
waste1      ,without reflection1        
management1 or taste2      ,careless of 
all that virtue gives to please2        
,for thought too active1 and too mad for
 ease2      ,who give each appetite too 
loose a rein1      ,push all enjoyment  
to the verge of pain2      ,impetuous   
follow where the passions call1         
,and live in rapture or not live at     

all20    will1 instead of lasting and   
satisfactory fruition1 meet only with   
sorrowful disappointment4 ,this mode of 
seeking society is not a rational       
indulgence of that natural passion which
 heaven1 in its benevolence to  man1 has
 planted in the human heart2 but merely 
a factitious desire1  an habitual       
pruriency1 produced by restless leisure1
 and encouraged  by vanity and          
dissipation4 ,social happiness1 true and
 essential  social happiness1 resides   
only in the bosom of love and in the    
arms  of friendship1 and can only be    
really enjoyed by congenial hearts  and 
kindred minds1 in the domestic bowers of
 privacy and retirement4  ,affectionate 
intercourse produces an inexhaustible   
fund of delight4 ,it  is the perennial  
sunshine of the mind4 ,with what extreme
 anxiety do we  all endeavor to find an 
amiable being with whom we may form a   
tender  tie and close attachment1 who   
may inspire us with unfading bliss1 and 
receive increase of happiness from our  

endearments and attention6 ,how  greatly
 do such connexions increase the kind   
and benevolent dispositions  of the     
heart6 and how greatly do such          
dispositions1 while they lead the  mind 
to the enjoyment of domestic happiness1 
awaken all the virtues1 and  call forth 
the best and strongest energies of the  
soul6 ,deprived of the  chaste and      
endearing sympathies of love and        
friendship1 the species sink  into gross
 sensuality or mute indifference1       
neglect the improvement of  their       
faculties1 and renounce all anxiety to  
please2 but incited by these            
propensities1 the sexes mutually exert  
their powers1 cultivate their  talents1 
call every intellectual energy into     
action2 and1 by endeavoring  to promote 
each other's happiness1 mutually secure 
their own4    ,adverse circumstances1   
however1 frequently prevent well        
disposed  characters1 not only from     
making the election which their hearts  
would  prompt1 and their understandings 

approve1 but force them into alliances  
which both reason and sensibility       
reject4 ,it is from the disappointments 
of love or of ambition that the sexes   
are generally repelled from society  to 
solitude4 ,the affection1 the           
tenderness1 the sensibility of the      
heart1  are but too often torn and      
outraged by the cruelty and malevolence 
of an  unfeeling world1 in which vice   
bears on its audacious front the mask of
  virtue1 and betrays innocence into the
 snares of unsuspected guilt4 ,the      
victims1 however1 whether of love or of 
ambition1 who retire from society  to   
recruit their depressed spirits1 and    
repair their disordered minds1  cannot1 
without injustice1 be stigmatized as    
misanthropists1 or arraigned  as        
anti-social characters4 ,all relish for 
scenes of social happiness may  be lost 
by an extreme and over ardent passion   
for the enjoyments of them2  but it is  
only those who seek retirement from an  
aversion to the company  of their fellow

 creatures1 that can be said to have    
renounced1 or be  destitute of1 the     
common sympathies of nature4    ,the    
present age1 however1 is not likely to  
produce many such unnatural  characters1
 for the manners of the whole world1 and
 particularly of  ,europe1 were never1  
perhaps1 more disposed to company4 ,the 
rage for  public entertainments seems to
 have infected all the classes of       
society4  ,the pleasures of private life
 seem to be held in universal           
detestation  and contempt2 opprobrious  
epithets1 defame the humble enjoyments  
of  domestic love1 and those whose hours
 are not consumed in unmeaning  visits1 
or unsocial parties1 are regarded as    
censors of the common  conduct of the   
world1 or as enemies to their fellow    
creatures2 but  although mankind appear 
so extremely social1 they certainly were
 never  less friendly and affectionate4 
,neither rank1 nor sex1 nor age1 is free
  from this pernicious habit4 ,infants1 
before they can well lisp the  rudiments

 of speech1 are initiated into the idle 
ceremonies and parade of  company3 and  
can scarcely meet their parents or their
 playmates without  being obliged to    
perform a punctilious salutation4       
,formal card parties1  and petty treats1
 engross the time that should be devoted
 to healthful  exercise and manly       
recreation4 ,the manners of the         
metropolis are imitated  with inferior  
splendor1 but with greater absurdity1 in
 the country2 every  village has its    
routs and its assemblies1 in which the  
curled darlings  of the place blaze     
forth in feathered lustre and awkward   
magnificence2  and while the charming   
simplicity of one sex is destroyed by   
affectation1  the honest virtues of the 
other by dissolute gallantry1 and the   
passions  of both inflamed by vicious   
and indecent mirth1 the grave elders of 
the  districts are trying their tempers 
and impoverishing their purses at       
sixpenny whist and cassino4    ,the     
spirit of dissipation has reached even  

the vagrant tribe4 ,the  ,gypsies of    
,germany suspend their predatory        
excursions1 and on one                  
previously-appointed evening in every   
week1 assemble to enjoy their  guilty   
spoils in the fumes of strong waters and
 tobacco4 ,the place of  rendezvous is  
generally the vicinity of a mill1 the   
proprietor of which1  by affording to   
these wandering tribes an undisturbed   
asylum1 not only  secures his property  
from their depredations1 but1 by the    
idle tales  with which they contrive to 
amuse his ear1 respecting the characters
  and conduct of his neighbors1         
furnishes himself with new subjects of  
conversation for his next evening       
coterie4    ,minds that derive all their
 pleasure from the levity and mirth of  
promiscuous company1 are seldom able to 
contribute1 in any high degree1  to     
their own amusement4 ,characters like   
these search every place  for           
entertainment1 except their own bosoms  
and the bosoms of their  surrounding    

families1 where by proper cultivation1  
real happiness1 the  happiness arising  
from love and friendship1 is alone      
capable of being  found4    ,the wearied
 pleasurist1 sinking under the weight   
that preys upon his  spirits1 flies to  
scenes of public gayety or private      
splendor1 in fond  but vain expectation 
that they will dispel his discontent1   
and recreate  his mind2 but he finds1   
alas6 that the fancied asylum affords   
him no  rest4 ,the ever-craving appetite
 for pastime grows by what it feeds  on2
 and the worm1 which devoured his       
delight amidst his sylvan scenery  of   
solitude1 still accompanies him to      
crowded halls of elegance and           
festivity4 ,while he eagerly embraces   
every object that promises to supply    
the dreadful vacancy of his mind1 he    
exhausts his remaining strength2        
enlarges the wound he is so anxiously   
endeavoring to heal2 and by too  eagerly
 grasping at the phantom pleasure1      
loses1 perhaps for ever1 the            

substantial power of being happy4       
,men whose minds are capable of higher  
enjoyments always feel these  perturbed 
sensations1 when deluded into a         
fashionable party1 they find  nothing to
 excite curiosity1 or interest their    
feelings6 and where they  are pestered  
by the frivolous importunities of those 
for whom they cannot  entertain either  
friendship or esteem4 ,how1 indeed1 is  
it possible for a  sensible mind to feel
 the slightest approbation1 when a      
coxcomb enamored  of his own eloquence1 
and swoln with the pride of             
self-conceited merit1  tires by his     
loquacious nonsense1 all around him8    
,the great ,leibnitz was observed by his
 servant frequently to take notes  while
 he sat at church2 and the domestic very
 rationally conceived that  he was      
making observations on the subject of   
the sermon3 but it is more  consistent  
with the character of this philosopher  
to conclude1 that he  was indulging the 
powers of his own capacious and         

excursive mind1 when  those of the      
preacher ceased to interest him4 ,thus  
it happens1 that  while the multitude   
are driven from solitude to society1 by 
being tired  of themselves1 there are   
some1 and those not a few1 who seek     
refuge in  rational retirement from the 
frivolous dissipation of company4    ,an
 indolent mind is as irksome to itself  
as it is intolerable to others2  but an 
active mind feels inexhaustible         
resources in its own power4  ,the first 
is forced to fly from itself for        
enjoyment1 while the other  calmly      
resigns itself to its own suggestions1  
and always meets with the  happiness it 
has vainly sought for in its communion  
with the world4    ,to rouse the soul   
from that lethargy into which its powers
 are so apt to  drop from the           
tediousness of life1 it is necessary to 
apply a stimulus  both to the head and  
to the heart4 ,something must be        
contrived to strike  the senses and     
interest the mind4 ,but it is much more 

difficult to convey  pleasure to others1
 than to receive it ourselves2 and while
 the many wait  in anxious hope of being
 entertained1 they find but few who are 
capable  of entertaining4               
,disappointment increases the eagerness 
of desire2 and  the uneasy multitude    
rush to places of public resort1        
endeavoring1  by noise and bustle1      
festive gratification1 elegant          
decoration1 rich  dresses1 splendid     
illuminations1 sportive dances1 and     
sprightly music1  to awaken the dormant 
faculties1 and agitate the stagnant     
sensibilities  of the soul4 ,these      
scenes may be considered the machineries
 of pleasure2  they produce a temporary 
effect1 without requiring much effort or
  co-operation to obtain it2 while those
 higher delights1 of which  retirement  
is capable1 cannot be truly enjoyed     
without a certain degree  of            
intellectual exertion4 ,there are1      
indeed1 many minds so totally  corrupted
 by the unceasing pursuits of these vain

 and empty pleasures1  that they are    
utterly incapable of relishing          
intellectual delight2 which1  as it     
affords an enjoyment totally unconnected
 with1 and independent of1  common      
society1 requires a disposition and     
capacity which common company  can never
 bestow4 ,retirement1 therefore1 and its
 attendant enjoyments1  are of a nature 
too refined for the gross and vulgar    
capacities of the  multitude1 who are   
more disposed to gratify their          
intellectual indolence1  by receiving a 
species of entertainment which does not 
require from  them the exertion of      
thought1 than to enjoy pleasures of a   
nobler kind1  which can only be procured
 by a rational restraint of the         
passions1 and  a proper exercise of the 
powers of the mind4 ,violent and        
tumultuous  impressions can alone       
gratify such characters1 whose pleasures
 like  those of the slothful ,sybarites1
 only indicate the pain they undergo in 
striving to be happy4    ,men1 eager for

 the enjoyment of worldly pleasures1    
seldom attain the  object they pursue4  
,dissatisfied with the enjoyments of the
 moment1  they long for absent delight1 
which seems to promise a more poignant  
gratification4 ,their joys are like     
those of ,tantalus1 always in view1 but 
never within reach4 ,the activity of    
such characters lead to no beneficial   
end2 they are perpetually in motion1    
without making any progress3 they  spur 
on 8the lazy foot of time10 and then    
complain of the rapidity of its  flight1
 only because they have made no good use
 of its presence3 they  8take no note of
 time but by its loss20 and year follows
 year1 only to  increase their          
uneasiness4 ,if the bright beam of      
,aurora wake them from  their perturbed 
repose1 it is only to create new anxiety
 how they are to  drag through the      
passing day4 ,the change of season      
produces no change in  their wearied    
dispositions2 and every hour comes and  
goes with equal  indifference and       

discontent4    ,the pleasures of        
society1 however1 although they are     
attended with such  unhappy effects1 and
 pernicious consequences1 to men of weak
 heads and  corrupted hearts1 who only  
follow them for the purpose of indulging
  the follies1 and gratifying the vices1
 to which they have given birth1  are   
yet capable of affording to the wise and
 the virtuous1 a high1  rational1       
sublime1 and satisfactory enjoyment4    
,the world is the only  theatre upon    
which great and noble actions can be    
performed1 or the  heights of moral and 
intellectual excellence usefully        
attained4 ,the  society of the wise and 
good1 exclusive of the pleasing         
relaxation it  affords from the         
anxieties of business1 and the cares of 
life1 conveys  valuable information to  
the mind1 and virtuous feelings to the  
breast4  ,there experience imparts its  
wisdom in a manner equally engaging and 
impressive2 the faculties are improved1 
and knowledge increased4 ,youth  and age

 reciprocally contribute to the         
happiness of each other4 ,such a        
society1 while it adds firmness to the  
character1 gives fashion to the         
manners2 and opens immediately to the   
view the delightful models of  wisdom   
and integrity4 ,it is only in such      
society that man can rationally  hope to
 exercise1 with any prospect of success1
 the latent principle1  which           
continually prompts him to pursue the   
high felicity of which he  feels his    
nature capable1 and of which the        
,creator has permitted him to  form a   
faint idea4        8,in every human     
heart there lies reclined      ,some    
atom pregnant with ethereal mind2       
,some plastic power1 some intellectual  
ray1      ,some genial sunbeam from the 
source of day2      ,something that     
warms1 and restless to aspire1          
,wakes the young heart1 and sets the    
soul on fire2      ,and bids us all our 
inborn powers employ      ,to catch the 
phantom of ideal joy40    ,sorrow       

frequently drives its unhappy victims   
from solitude into the  vortex of       
society as a means of relief2 for       
solitude is terrible to those  whose    
minds are torn with anguish for the loss
 of some dear friend1  whom death has1  
perhaps1 taken untimely from their arms2
 and who would  willingly renounce all  
worldly joys to hear one accent of that 
beloved  voice1 which used1 in calm     
retirement1 to fill his ear with        
harmony1 and  his heart with rapture4   
,solitude also is terrible to those     
whose felicity is founded on popular    
applause2 who have acquired a degree of 
fame by intrigue1 and actions of        
counterfeited virtue2 and who suffer the
 most excruciating anxiety to  preserve 
their spurious fame4 ,conscious of the  
fraudulent means by which  they acquire 
possession of it1 and of the weak       
foundation on which it is  built1 it    
appears continually to totter1 and      
always ready to overwhelm  them in its  
ruins4 ,their attention is sedulously   

called to every quarter2  and1 in order 
to prop up the unsubstantial fabric1    
they bend with mean  submission to the  
pride of power2 flatter the vanity1 and 
accommodate  themselves to the vices of 
the great2 censure the genius that      
provokes  their jealousy2 ridicule the  
virtue that shames the conduct of their 
patrons2 submit to all the follies of   
the age2 take advantage of its  errors2 
cherish its prejudices2 applaud its     
superstition1 and defend its  vices4    
,the fashionable circles may1 perhaps1  
welcome such characters as  their best  
supporters and highest ornaments2 but to
 them the calm and  tranquil pleasures  
of retirement are dreary and disgusting4
    ,to all those1 indeed1 whom vice has
 betrayed into guilt1 and whose bosoms  
are stung by the adders of remorse1     
solitude is doubly terrible2 and they   
fly from its shades to scenes of worldly
 pleasure1 in the hope of being  able to
 silence the keen reproaches of violated
 conscience in the tumults  of society4 

,vain attempt6    ,solitude1 indeed1 as 
well as religion1 has been represented  
in such  dismal1 disagreeable colors1 by
 those who were incapable of tasting    
its sweets1 and enjoying its advantages1
 that many dismiss it totally  from all 
their schemes of happiness1 and fly to  
it only to alleviate  the bitterness of 
some momentary passion1 or temporary    
adversity1 or to  hide the blushes of   
approaching shame4 ,but there are       
advantages to be  derived from solitude1
 even under such circumstances1 by those
 who are  otherwise incapable of        
enjoying them4 ,those who know the most 
delightful  comforts1 and satisfactory  
enjoyments1 of which a well regulated   
solitude  is productive1 like those who 
are acquainted with the solid benefits  
to be derived from religion1 will seek  
retirement1 in the hours of  prosperity 
and content1 as the only means by which 
they can be enjoyed  in true perfection4
 ,the tranquillity of its shades will   
give richness  to their joys2 its       

uninterrupted quietude will enable them 
to expatiate  on the fullness of their  
felicity2 and they will turn their eyes 
with  soft compassion on the miseries of
 the world1 when compared with the      
blessings they enjoy4    ,strongly1     
therefore1 as the social principle      
operates in our breast2 and  necessary  
as it is1 when properly regulated1 to   
the improvement of our  minds1 the      
refinement of our manners1 and the      
melioration of our hearts2  yet some    
portion of our time ought to be devoted 
to rational retirement3  and we must not
 conclude that those who occasionally   
abstain from the  tumultuous pleasures1 
and promiscuous enjoyments of the world1
 are morose  characters1 or of peevish  
dispositions2 nor stigmatize those who  
appear  to prefer the calm delights of  
solitude to the tumultuous pleasures of 
the world1 as unnatural and anti-social4
        8,whoever thinks1 must see that 
man was made      ,to face the storm1   
not languish in the shade3              

,action's his sphere1 and for that      
sphere design'd1      ,eternal pleasures
 open on his mind4      ,for this fair  
hope leads on th' impassion'd soul      
,through life's wild lab'rinths to her  
distant goal1      ,paints in each      
dream1 to fan the genial flame1         
,the pomp of riches1 and the pride of   
fame2      ,or fondly gives reflection's
 cooler eye      ,in solitude1 an image 
of a future sky40          ,,chapter    
,,ii4    ,of the motives to solitude4   
,the motives which induce men to        
exchange the tumultuous joys of society1
  for the calm and temperate pleasures  
of solitude1 are various and            
accidental2 but whatever may be the     
final cause of such an exchange1 it  is 
generally founded on an inclination to  
escape from some present or  impending  
constraint2 to shake off the shackles of
 the world2 to taste  the sweets of soft
 repose2 to enjoy the free and          
undisturbed exertion of  the            
intellectual faculties2 or to perform1  

beyond the reach of ridicule1  the      
important duties of religion4 ,but the  
busy pursuits of worldly minded  men    
prevent the greater part of the species 
from feeling these motives1  and1 of    
course1 from tasting the sweets of      
unmolested existence4 ,their  pleasures 
are pursued in paths which lead to very 
different goals3 and  the real1         
constant1 and unaffected lover of       
retirement is a character  so rarely    
found1 that it seems to prove the truth 
of lord ,verulam's  observation1 that he
 who is really attached to solitude1    
must be either  more or less than man2  
and certain it is1 that while the wise  
and  virtuous discover in retirement an 
uncommon and transcending brightness  of
 character1 the vicious and the ignorant
 are buried under its weight1  and sink 
even beneath their ordinary level4      
,retirement gives additional  firmness  
to the principles of those who seek it  
from a noble love of  independence1 but 
loosens the feeble consistency of those 

who only seek  it from novelty and      
caprice4    ,to render solitude         
serviceable1 the powers of the mind1 and
 the  sensibilities of the heart1 must  
be co-equal1 and reciprocally regulate  
each other2 weakness of intellect1 when 
joined with quick feelings1  hurries its
 possessor into all the tumult of       
worldly pleasure2 and when  mingled with
 torpid insensibility1 impels him to the
 cloister4 ,extremes1  both in solitude 
and in society1 are equally baneful4    
,a strong sense of shame1 the keen      
compunctions of conscience1 a deep      
regret for past follies1 the            
mortification arising from disappointed 
hopes1 and the dejection which          
accompanies disordered health1 sometimes
  so affect the spirits1 and destroy the
 energies of the mind1 that the  soul   
shrinks back upon itself at the very    
approach of company1 and  withdraws to  
the shades of solitude1 only to brood   
and languish in  obscurity4 ,the        
inclination to retire1 in cases of this 

description1  arises from a fear of     
meeting the reproaches or disregard of  
an unpitying  and unreflecting world1   
and not from that erect spirit which    
disposes the  mind to self enjoyment4   
,the disgust arising from satiety of    
worldly pleasures1 frequently induces  a
 temporary desire for solitude4 ,the    
dark and gloomy nature1 indeed1 of  this
 disposition1 is such as neither the    
splendors of a throne1 nor the  light of
 philosophy1 are able to irradiate and  
dispel4 ,the austere and  petulant      
,heraclitus abandoned all the pleasures 
and comforts of society1  in the vain   
hope of being able to gratify his       
discontented mind1 by  indulging an     
antipathy against his fellow creatures2 
flying from their  presence he retired1 
like his predecessor ,timon1 to a high  
mountain1  where he lived for many years
 among the beasts of the desert1 on the 
rude produce of the earth1 regardless of
 all the comforts a civilized  society  
is capable of bestowing4 ,such a temper 

of mind proceeds from a  sickened       
intellect and disordered sensibility1   
and indicates the loss  of that fine1   
but firm sense of pleasure1 from which  
alone all real  enjoyment must spring4  
,he who having tasted all that can      
delight the  senses1 warm the heart1 and
 satisfy the mind1 secretly sighs over  
the  vanity of his enjoyments1 and      
beholds all the cheering objects of life
  with indifference1 is1 indeed1 a      
melancholy example of the sad effects   
which result from an intemperate pursuit
 of worldly pleasures4 ,such a man  may1
 perhaps1 abandon society1 for it is no 
longer capable of affording  him        
delight2 but he will be debarred from   
all rational solitude1 because  he is   
incapable of enjoying it1 and a refuge  
to the brute creation seems  his only   
resource4 ,i have1 indeed1 observed even
 noblemen and princes  in the midst of  
abundance1 and surrounded by all the    
splendor that  successful ambition1 high
 state1 vast riches1 and varying        

pleasures can  confer1 sinking the sad  
victims of satiety2 disgusted with their
 glories2  and dissatisfied with all    
those enjoyments which are supposed to  
give  a higher relish to the soul2 but  
they had happily enriched their minds   
with notions far superior to all those  
which flow from the corrupted  scenes of
 vitiated pleasures2 and they found1 in 
solitude1 a soft and  tranquil pillow1  
which invited their perturbed minds1 and
 at length  lulled their feelings into  
calm repose4 ,these characters were     
betrayed  for a time by the             
circumstances which surrounded their    
exalted stations  into an excess of     
enjoyment2 but they were able to relish 
the simple  occupations1 and to enjoy   
the tranquil amusements of retirement1  
with as  much satisfaction as they had  
formerly pursued the political intrigues
 of  the cabinet1 the hostile glories of
 the field1 or the softer indulgences   
of peaceful luxury2 and were thereby    
rendered capable of deriving comfort    

and consolation from that source which  
seems only to heighten and  exasperate  
the miseries of those whose minds are   
totally absorbed in the  dissipations of
 life4    ,the motives1 indeed1 which   
lead men either to temporary retirement1
 or  absolute solitude1 are innumerably 
various4 ,minds delicately susceptible  
to the impressions of virtue1 frequently
 avoid society1 only to avoid  the pain 
they feel in observing the vices and    
follies of the world4  ,minds active and
 vigorous1 frequently retire to avoid   
the clogs and  incumbrances by which the
 tumults and engagements of society     
distract and  impede the free and full  
enjoyment of their faculties4 ,the      
basis1 indeed1  of every inclination to 
solitude is the love of liberty1 either 
mental  or corporeal2 a freedom from all
 constraint and interruption3 but the   
form in which the inclination displays  
itself1 varies according to the         
character and circumstances of the      
individual4    ,men who are engaged in  

pursuits foreign to the natural         
inclination of  their minds1 sigh       
continually for retirement1 as the only 
means of  recruiting their fatigued     
spirits1 and procuring a comfortable    
repose4  ,scenes of tranquillity can    
alone afford them any idea of enjoyment4
  ,a refined sense of duty1 indeed1     
frequently induces noble minds to       
sacrifice all personal pleasures to the 
great interests of the public1  or the  
private benefits of their fellow        
creatures2 and they resist  every       
opposing obstacle with courage1 and bear
 every adversity with  fortitude1 under 
those cheering sentiments1 and proud    
delights1 which  result from the        
pursuits of active charity and          
benevolence1 even  though their career  
be thwarted by those whose advantages   
they design  to promote4 ,the           
exhilarating idea of being instrumental 
in affording  relief to suffering       
humanity1 reconciles every difficulty1  
however  great3 prompts to new          

exertions1 however fruitless2 and       
sustains them  in those arduous         
conflicts1 in which all who aspire to   
promote the  interest1 and improve the  
happiness of mankind1 must occasionally 
engage1  especially when opposed by the 
pride and profligacy of the rich and    
great1 and the obstinacy and caprice of 
the ignorant and unfeeling4 ,but  the   
most virtuous and steady minds cannot   
always bear up against 8a sea  of       
troubles1 or by opposing1 end them30    
and1 depressed by temporary             
adversities1 will arraign the cruelty of
 their condition1 and sigh for  the     
shades of peace and tranquillity4 ,how  
transcendent must be the  enjoyment of a
 great and good minister who1 after     
having anxiously  attended to the       
important business of the state1 and    
disengaged himself  from the necessary  
but irksome occupation of official      
detail1 refreshes  his mind in the calm 
of some delightful retreat1 with works  
of taste1 and  thoughts of fancy and    

imagination6 ,a change1 indeed1 both of 
scene and  sentiment1 is absolutely     
necessary1 not only in the serious and  
important  employments1 but even in the 
common occupations and idle amusements  
of  life4 ,pleasure springs from        
contrast4 ,the most charming object     
loses a  portion of its power to        
delight1 by being continually beheld4   
,alternate  society and solitude are    
necessary to the full enjoyment of both 
the  pleasures of the world and the     
delights of retirement4 ,it is1 however1
  asserted that the celebrated ,pascal1 
whose life was far from being  inactive1
 that quietude is a beam of the original
 purity of our nature1  and that the    
height of human happiness is in solitude
 and tranquillity4  ,tranquillity1      
indeed1 is the wish of all3 the good1   
while pursuing the  track of virtue2 the
 great while following the star of      
glory2 and the  little1 while creeping  
in the styes of dissipation1 sigh for   
tranquillity  and make it the great     

object which they ultimately hope to    
attain4 ,how  anxiously does the sailor1
 on the high and giddy mast1 when       
rolling  through tempestuous seas1 cast 
his eyes over the foaming billows1 and  
anticipate the calm security he hopes to
 enjoy when he reaches the wished  for  
shore6 ,even kings grow weary of their  
splendid slavery1 and nobles  sicken    
under increasing dignities4 ,all1 in    
short1 feel less delight in  the actual 
enjoyment of worldly pursuits1 however  
great and honorable  they may be1 than  
in the idea of their being able to      
relinquish them and  retire to          
8''' some calm sequestered spot2        
,the world forgetting1 by the world     
forgot40    ,the restless and ambitious 
,pyrrhus hoped that ease and            
tranquillity  would be the ultimate     
reward of his enterprising conquests4   
,frederic the  great1 discovered1       
perhaps unintentionally1 how pleasing   
and satisfactory  the idea of           
tranquillity was to his mind1 when      

immediately after he  had gained a      
glorious and important victory1 he      
exclaimed on the field  of battle1 8,oh 
that my anxieties may now be ended60    
,the emperor ,joseph  also displayed the
 predominancy of his passion for        
tranquillity and  retirement1 when on   
asking the famous ,german pedestrian1   
,baron ,grothaus1  what countries he    
next intended to traverse1 was told a   
long number in  rapid succession4 8,and 
what then80 continued the emperor4 8,why
 then10  replied the baron1 8,i intend  
to retire to the place of my nativity1  
and  enjoy myself in rural quietude1 and
 the cultivation of my patrimonial      
farm40 8,ah1 my good friend10 exclaimed 
the emperor1 8if you will trust  the    
voice of sad experience1 you had better 
neglect the walk1 and retire  before it 
is too late1 to the quietude and        
tranquillity you propose40    ,publius  
,scipio1 surnamed ,africanus1 during the
 time that he was invested  with the    
highest offices of ,rome1 and           

immediately engaged in the most         
important concerns of the empire1       
withdrew whenever an opportunity        
occurred1 from public observation1 to   
peaceful privacy2 and though  not       
devoted1 like ,tully1 to the elegant    
occupations of literature and           
philosophy1 declared that 8he was never 
less alone than when alone40 ,he  was1  
says ,plutarch1 incomparably the first  
both in virtue and power1  of the       
,romans of his time2 but in his highest 
tide of fortune1 he  voluntarily        
abandoned the scene of his glory1 and   
calmly retired to his  beautiful villa  
in the midst of a romantic forest1 near 
,liturnum1 where  he closed1 in         
philosophic tranquillity1 the last years
 of a long and  splendid life4          
,cicero1 in the plenitude of his power1 
at a time when his influence over  the  
minds of his fellow citizens was at its 
height1 retired1 with the  retiring     
liberties of his country1 to his        
,tusculum villa1 to deplore the         

approaching fate of his beloved city1   
and to ease1 in soothing solitude1  the 
anguish of his heart4    ,horace1 also1 
the gay and elegant favorite of the     
great ,augustus1 even in  the meridian  
rays of royal favor1 renounced the      
smiles of greatness1 and  all the       
seductive blandishments of an imperial  
court1 to enjoy his happy  muse among   
the romantic wilds of his sequestered   
villa of ,tibur1 near the  lake         
,albunea4    ,but there are few         
characters who have passed the          
concluding scenes  of life with more    
real dignity than the emperor           
,dioclesian4 ,in the  twenty-first year 
of his reign1 though he had never       
practised the lessons  of philosophy    
either in the attainment or the use of  
supreme power1 and  although his reign  
had flowed with a tide of uninterrupted 
success1 he  executed his memorable     
resolution of abdicating the empire1 and
 gave  the world the first example of a 
resignation which has not been very     

frequently imitated by succeeding       
monarchs4 ,dioclesian was at this       
period only fifty-nine years of age1 and
 in the full possession of his  mental  
faculties2 but he had vanquished all his
 enemies1 and executed  all his designs2
 and his active life1 his wars1 his     
journeys1 the  cares of royalty1 and his
 application to business having impaired
 his  constitution1 and brought on the  
infirmities of a premature old age1 he  
resolved to pass the remainder of his   
days in honorable repose2 to place  his 
glory beyond the reach of fortune1 and  
to relinquish the theatre  of the world 
to his younger and more active          
associates4 ,the ceremony  of his       
abdication was performed in a spacious  
plain1 about three miles  from          
,nicomedia4 ,the emperor ascended a     
lofty throne1 and1 in a speech  full of 
reason and dignity1 declared his        
intention both to the people  and to the
 soldiers1 who were assembled on this   
extraordinary occasion4  ,as soon as he 

had divested himself of the purple1 he  
withdrew from the  gazing multitude2 and
 traversing the city in a covered       
chariot1 proceeded  without delay to the
 favorite retirement which he had chosen
 in his  native country of ,dalmatia4   
,the emperor1 who1 from a servile       
origin1 had  raised himself to the      
throne1 passed the last nine years of   
his life in  a private condition at     
,salona4 ,reason had dictated1 and      
content seems to  have accompanied1 his 
retreat1 in which he enjoyed for a long 
time the  respect of those princes to   
whom he had resigned the possession of  
the  world4 ,it is seldom that minds    
long exercised in business have formed  
any habits of conversing with           
themselves1 and in the loss of power1   
they  principally regret the want of    
occupation4 ,the amusements of letters  
and  of devotion1 which afford so many  
resources in solitude1 were incapable   
of fixing the attention of ,dioclesian3 
but he had preserved1 or1 at  least1 he 

soon recovered1 a taste for the most    
innocent as well as  natural pleasures2 
and his leisure hours were sufficiently 
employed in  building1 planting1 and    
gardening4 ,his answer to ,maximian is  
deservedly  celebrated4 ,he was         
solicited by that restless old man to   
resume the  reins of government and the 
imperial purple4 ,he rejected the       
temptation  with a smile of pity1 calmly
 observing1 that if he could show       
,maximian  the cabbages he had planted  
at ,salona1 he should be no longer urged
  to relinquish the enjoyment of        
happiness for the pursuit of power4 ,in 
his conversations with his friends he   
frequently acknowledged1 that of  all   
the arts the most difficult was that of 
reigning2 and he expressed  himself on  
that favorite topic with a degree of    
warmth which could be  the result only  
of experience4 8,how often10 was he     
accustomed to say1  8is it the interest 
of four or five ministers to combine    
together to  deceive the sovereign6     

,secluded from mankind by his exalted   
dignity1  the truth is concealed from   
his knowledge3 he can only see with     
their  eyes2 he hears nothing but their 
misrepresentations4 ,he confers the most
  important offices upon vice and       
weakness1 and disgraces the most        
virtuous  and deserving among his       
subjects2 and by such infamous acts the 
best and  wisest princes are sold to the
 venal corruption of their courtiers40  
,a  just estimate of greatness1 and the 
assurance of immortal fame1 improve  our
 relish for the pleasures of retirement4
    ,zenobia1 the celebrated queen of   
,palmyra and the east2 a female whose   
superior genius broke through the       
servile indolence imposed on her sex  by
 the climate and manners of ,asia1 the  
most lovely as well as the  most heroic 
of her sex1 who spread the terror of her
 arms over ,arabia1  ,armenia1 and      
,persia1 and kept even the legions of   
the ,roman empire in  awe1 was1 after   
the two great battles of ,antioch and   

,emesa1 at length  subdued1 and made the
 illustrious captive of the emperor     
,aurelian2 but  the conqueror1          
respecting the sex1 the beauty1 the     
courage and endowments  of the ,syrian  
queen1 not only preserved her life1 but 
presented her  with an elegant villa at 
,tibur or ,tivoli1 about twenty miles   
from ,rome2  where1 in happy            
tranquillity1 she fed the greatness of  
her soul with the  noble images of      
,homer1 and the exalted precepts of     
,plato2 supported the  adversity of her 
fortunes with fortitude and resignation2
 and learnt  that the anxieties         
attendant on ambition are happily       
exchanged for the  enjoyments of ease   
and the comforts of philosophy4         
,charles ,v4 resigned the government of 
the empire to his brother the king  of  
the ,romans2 and transferred all claims 
of obedience and allegiance  to him from
 the ,germanic body1 in order that he   
might no longer be  detained from that  
retreat for which he long had           

languished4 ,in passing1  some years    
before1 from ,valladolid to ,placentia1 
in the ,province of  ,estremadura1 he   
was struck with the delightful situation
 of the monastery  of ,st4 ,justus1     
belonging to the order of ,st4 ,jerome1 
not many miles  distant from the town2  
and observed to some of his attendants1 
that  this was a spot to which          
,dioclesian might have retired with     
pleasure4  ,the impression remained upon
 his mind1 and he determined to make it 
the  place of his own retreat4 ,it was  
seated in a vale of no great extent1    
watered by a small brook1 and surrounded
 by rising grounds covered with  lofty  
trees2 and from the nature of the soil1 
as well as the temperature  of the      
climate1 was esteemed the most healthful
 and delicious situation  in ,spain4    
,some months before his resignation1 he 
had sent an architect  thither to add a 
new apartment to the monastery for his  
accommodation2  but he gave strict      
orders that the style of the building   

should be  such as suited his present   
station rather than his former dignity4 
,it  consisted only of six rooms2 four  
of them in the form of friar's cells1   
with naked walls2 the other two1 each   
twenty feet square1 were hung with      
brown cloth1 and furnished in the most  
simple manner2 they were all  on a level
 with the ground1 with a door on one    
side into a garden of  which ,charles   
himself had given the plan1 and had     
filled it with various  plants1 which he
 intended to cultivate with his own     
hands4 ,on the other  side they         
communicated with the chapel of the     
monastery1 in which he  was to perform  
his devotions4 ,in this humble retreat1 
hardly sufficient  for the comfortable  
accommodation of a private gentleman1   
did ,charles  enter with twelve         
domestics only1 and buried in solitude  
and silence his  grandeur1 his ambition1
 and all those vast projects which1     
during almost  half a century1 had      
alarmed and agitated ,europe2 filling   

every kingdom in  it by turns with the  
terror of his arms1 and the dread of    
being subdued  by his power4    ,these  
instances of resignation and retirement1
 to which many others  might have been  
added1 sufficiently prove that a desire 
to live in free  leisure1 independent of
 the restraints of society1 is one of   
the most  powerful affections of the    
human mind2 and that solitude1          
judiciously and  rationally employed1   
amply compensates all that is sacrificed
 for the  purpose of enjoying it4       
,but there are many other resources from
 whence an anti-social disposition  may 
arise1 which merits consideration4 ,that
 terrible malady1 the  hypocondria1     
frequently renders the unhappy sufferer 
not only averse  to society in general1 
but even fearful of meeting a human     
being2 and  the still more dreadful     
malady a wounded heart1 increases our   
antipathy  to mankind4 ,the fear of     
unfounded calumny also sometimes drives 
weak  and dejected minds into the       

imaginary shelter of obscurity2 and even
  strong and honest characters1 prone to
 disclose their real sentiments1  are   
disgusted at the world from a           
consciousness of its being unable  to   
listen temperately to the voice of      
truth4 ,the obstinacy with which        
mankind persist in habitual errors1 and 
the violence with which they  indulge   
inveterate passions1 a deep regret for  
their follies1 and  the horror which    
their vices create1 drives us frequently
 from their  presence4 ,the love of     
science1 a fondness for the arts1 and an
 attachment  to the immortal works of   
genius1 induce1 ,i trust1 not a few to  
neglect  all anxiety to learn the common
 news of the day1 and keep them in some 
calm1 sequestered retreat far from the  
unmeaning manners of the noisy  world1  
improving the genuine feelings of their 
hearts1 and storing their  minds with   
the principles of true philosophy4      
,there are others1 though  ,i fear they 
are few1 who1 impressed by a strong     

sense of the duties of  religion1 and   
feeling how incompatible with their     
practice are most1 if  not all1 the     
factitious joys of social life1 retire  
from the corrupted  scene1 to           
contemplate1 in sacred privacy1 the     
attributes of a ,being  unalterably     
pure1 and infinitely good2 to impress   
upon their minds so  strong a sense of  
the importance of obedience to the      
divine will1 of the  value of the reward
 promised to virtue1 and the terrors of 
the punishment  denounced against       
crimes1 as may overbear all temptations 
which temporal  hope or fear can bring  
in their way1 and enable them to bid    
equal  defiance to joy and sorrow2 to   
turn away at one time from the          
allurements  of ambition1 and press     
forward at another against the threats  
of calamity4    ,the dejection          
occasioned by the hypochondria renders  
the mind not  only averse from1 but     
wholly incapable of1 any pleasure1 and  
induces  the unhappy sufferer to seek a 

solitude by which it is increased4 ,the 
influence of this dreadful malady is so 
powerful1 that it destroys all  hope of 
remedy1 and prevents those exertions1 by
 which alone1 we are told  it can be    
cured4        ,to cure the mind's wrong 
bias--spleen1      ,some recommend the  
bowling-green2      ,some1 hilly walks2 
all1 exercise2      ,fling but a stone1 
the giant dies2      ,laugh1 and be     
well4 ,monkies have been      ,extreme  
good doctors for the spleen2      ,and  
kittens1 if the humor hit1      ,have   
harlequined away the fit4    ,but1 alas6
 the heart shuts itself against every   
pleasing sensation1 and  the mind       
dismisses every cheering sentiment4 ,joy
 opens in vain its festal  arms to      
receive him2 and he shuns embraces1     
whose light and mirthful  air would only
 serve to increase the melancholy of his
 dreary and  distempered mind4 ,even the
 tender1 affectionate offices of        
friendship1  in endeavoring to sooth and
 divert his mind by lively conversation 

and  social intercourse1 appear         
officious and ill-timed4 ,his spirits   
are  quite dejected2 his faculties      
become torpid2 and his sense of         
enjoyment  is annihilated4 ,the charming
 air which breathes to us the sweetest  
fragrance1 and most invigorating        
delights1 feels to him like a pestilent 
congregation of vapors4        ,his     
pensive spirit takes the lonely grove   
,nightly he visits all the sylvan       
scenes1      ,where1 far remote1 a      
melancholy moon      ,raising her head1 
serene and shorn of beams1      ,throws 
here and there the glimmerings through  
the trees1      ,to make more awful     
darkness4    ,conscious that his frame  
is totally unstrung1 and that his pulse 
is  incapable of beating in any pleasant
 unison with the feelings of his        
healthful friends1 he withers into      
sorrowful decay4 ,every object around   
him appears to be at enmity with his    
feelings1 and comes shapeless and       
discolored to his disordered eyes4 ,the 

gentle voice of pity grates  his ears   
with harsh and hollow sounds1 and seems 
to reproach him with  insulting tones4  
,stricken by his dreadful malady1 the   
lamentable effects  of which a cruel and
 unfeeling world so often ridicule and  
despise1 and  constantly tearing open   
the wound it has occasioned1 the        
afflicted spirit  flies from every scene
 of social joy and animating pleasure1  
seeks as a  sole resource1 to hide its  
sorrows in solitary seclusion1 and      
awaits1 in  lingering sufferance1 the   
stroke of death4    ,the erroneous      
opinions1 perverse dispositions1 and    
inveterate prejudices  of the world1 are
 sometimes the causes which induce men  
to retire from  society1 and seek in    
solitude the enjoyments of innocence and
 truth4  ,careless of a commerce with   
those for whom they can entertain no    
esteem1  their minds naturally incline  
toward those scenes in which their      
fancy paints the fairest form of        
felicity4 ,he1 indeed1 whose free and   

independent spirit is resolved to permit
 his mind to think for itself2  who     
disdains to form his feelings1 and to   
fashion his opinions1 upon  the         
capricious notions of the world2 who is 
too candid to expect that  others should
 be guided by his notions1 and          
sufficiently firm not to  obey          
implicitly the hasty notions of others2 
who seeks to cultivate the  just and    
manly feelings of the heart1 and to     
pursue truth in the paths  of science1  
must detach himself from the degenerate 
crowd1 and seek his  enjoyments in      
retirement4 ,for to those who love to   
consult their own  ideas1 to form       
opinions upon their own reasonings and  
discernment1 and  to express only such  
sentiments as they really feel1 a       
society whose  judgments are borrowed1  
whose literature is only specious1 and  
whose  principles are unfounded1 must   
not only be irksomely insipid1 but      
morally  dangerous4 ,the firm and noble 
minded disdain to bow their necks to    

the slavish yoke of vulgar prejudice1   
and appeal1 in support of their         
opinions1 to the higher tribunal of     
sense and reason1 from the partial  and 
ill-formed sentences of conceited       
critics1 who1 destitute themselves  of  
any sterling merit1 endeavor to         
depreciate the value of that coin  whose
 weight and purity render it current1   
and to substitute their own  base and   
varnished compositions in its stead4    
,those self-created who  proudly place  
themselves in the professor's chair1    
look with an envious  and malignant eye 
on all the works of genius1 taste1 and  
sense2 and as  their interests are      
intimately blended with the destruction 
of every  sublime and elegant           
production1 their cries are raised      
against them the  moment they appear4   
,to blast the fame of merit is their    
chief object and  their highest joy3 and
 their lives are industriously employed 
to stifle  the discoveries1 to impede   
the advancement1 to condemn the         

excellency1  and to pervert the meaning 
of their more ingenious contemporaries4 
,like  loathsome toads1 they grovel on  
the ground1 and1 as they move along1    
emit a nasty slime1 or frothy venom1 on 
the sweetest shrubs and fairest  flowers
 of the fields4    ,from the society of 
such characters1 who seem to consider   
the noble  productions of superior      
intellect1 the fine and vigorous flights
 of  fancy1 the brilliant effusions of a
 sublime imagination1 and the refined   
feelings of the heart1 as fancied       
conceits or wild deliriums1 those who   
examine them by a better standard than  
that of fashion or common taste1  fly   
with delight4    ,the reign of envy1    
however1 although it is perpetual as to 
the existence  of the passion1 is only  
transitory as to the objects of its     
tyranny2 and  the merit which has fallen
 the victim of its rage1 is frequently  
raised  by the hand of truth1 and placed
 on the throne of public applause4 ,a   
production of genius1 however the ears  

of its author were deafened1  during his
 life1 by the clamors of calumny1 and   
hisses of ignorance1 is  reviewed with  
impartiality when he dies1 and revived  
by the acclamations  of ingenuous       
applause4 ,the reproach which the life  
of a great and good  man is continually 
casting on his mean and degenerate      
contemporaries1  is silenced by his     
death4 ,he is remembered only in the    
character of his  works2 and his fame   
increases with the successive           
generations1 which his  sentiments and  
opinions contribute to enlighten and    
adorn4    ,the history of the celebrated
 ,english philosopher1 ,david ,hume1    
affords1  perhaps1 a stronger instance  
of the dangers to which wit and learning
 are  exposed from the malicious shafts 
of envy1 ignorance1 and intolerance1    
than that of any other author4 ,the tax 
indeed1 is common to authors of  every  
description1 but it frequently falls the
 heaviest on the highest  heads4 ,this  
profound philosopher and elegant        

historian1 possessed a  mild temper2 a  
lively1 social disposition2 a high sense
 of friendship1  and incorruptible      
integrity4 ,his manners1 indeed1        
appeared1 at first  sight1 cold and     
repulsive2 for he had sacrificed little 
to the graces3  but his mind was        
invariably cheerful1 and his affections 
uncommonly warm  and generous3 and      
neither his ardent desire of fame1 nor  
the gross and  unfounded calumnies of   
his enemies1 were capable of disturbing 
the happy  tranquillity of his heart4   
,his life was passed in the constant    
exercise  of humanity and benevolence2  
and even those who had been seduced1 by 
the  jealous and vindictive artifices of
 others1 wantonly to attack his fame    
and character with obloquy and reproach1
 experienced his kindness1 and          
acknowledged his virtues4 ,he would     
never indeed confess that his friends   
had ever had occasion to vindicate any  
one circumstance of his character  or   
conduct1 or that he had ever been       

attacked either by the baleful  tooth of
 envy1 or the rage of civil or religious
 faction4 ,his company1  indeed1 was    
equally agreeable to all classes of     
society2 and young and  old1 rich and   
poor1 listened with pleasure to his     
conversation1 and  quitted his company  
with regret2 for although he was deeply 
learned1 and  his discourses replete    
with sagacity and science1 he had the   
happy art  of delivering his sentiments 
upon all subjects without the appearance
 of  ostentation1 or in any way         
offending the feelings of his hearers4  
,the interests of religion are said to  
have suffered by the abuse of his       
talents2 but the precepts of            
,christianity were never more powerfully
  recommended1 than by the integrity of 
his morals1 and the purity of his  life4
 ,his benign and gentle spirit1 attached
 to virtue1 and averse from  every      
species of vice1 essentially promoted   
the practice of piety1 and  the duties  
of a religious mind2 and did not1 as is 

always the case with  the zeal of       
persecution and martyrdom1 tear away the
 very foundation of  that fabric which  
it pretends to support4 ,the excellency1
 indeed1 both  of the head and the heart
 of this great and good man1 enabled him
 not  only to enjoy himself with perfect
 felicity1 but to contribute to the     
improvement1 and increase the happiness 
of mankind4 ,this is the opinion  now   
generally entertained of the character  
of ,hume2 but far different  were the   
sentiments of his contemporaries upon   
this subject4 ,it was  neither in a     
barbarous country1 or in an             
unenlightened age1 that he  lived2 but  
although the land was free1 the people  
philosophical1 and the  spirit of the   
times provoked the minds of learned men 
to metaphysical  inquiry1 the fame of   
,hume was wrecked upon his moral and    
religious  writings4 ,he was charged    
with being a sceptic2 but from the      
propagation  of certain doctrines1 and  
the freedom of inquiry which had then   

gone  forth1 it is impossible to        
attribute his disappointments to this   
cause4  ,a kind of natural prejudice1   
indeed1 prevailed in ,england at this   
period  against the ,scots2 but as he   
did not experience much favor from his  
own  countrymen1 no conclusion can be   
fairly drawn from this circumstance2    
and the extraordinary ,history of his   
,literary ,transactions1 a work  written
 by himself1 cannot be perused without  
an equal degree of surprise  and        
concern4 ,the contemptuous repulses     
which his several compositions  received
 from the public1 appear incredible2 but
 the facts he relates  are undoubtedly  
authentic2 and while they raise a       
sorrowful regret for  the fate of ,hume 
in particular1 they most unhappily tend 
to diminish the  ardor of the student1  
who contemplates the various dangers to 
which his  desire of fame may be        
exposed1 and may1 perhaps1 induce him to
 quit the  pursuit of an object 8so hard
 to gain1 so easy to be lost40    ,the  

melancholy history of the literary      
career of the celebrated ,hume1  as     
appears from the short sketch he made of
 his own life1 while he  calmly waited1 
under an incurable disorder1 the moment 
of approaching  dissolution2 a work     
which proclaims the mildness1 the       
modesty1 and the  resignation of his    
temper1 as clearly as his other works   
demonstrate  the power and extent of his
 mind4 ,the history1 indeed1 of every   
man who  attempts to destroy the        
reigning prejudices1 or correct the     
prevailing  errors1 of his age and      
country1 is nearly the same4 ,he who has
 the  happiness to see objects of any   
description with greater perspicuity    
than  his contemporaries1 and presumes  
to disseminate his superior knowledge1  
by the unreserved publication of his    
opinions1 sets himself up as a  common  
mark for the shafts of envy and         
resentment to pierce1 and seldom        
escapes from being charged with wicked  
designs against the interests of        

mankind4 ,a writer1 whatever his        
character1 station1 or talents may be1  
will find that he has a host of         
malevolent inferiors ready to seize     
every  opportunity of gratifying their  
humbled pride1 by attempting to level   
his superior merits1 and subdue his     
rising fame4 ,even the compassionate    
few1 who are ever ready to furnish food 
to the hungry1 clothing to the  naked1  
and consolation to the afflicted1 seldom
 feel any other sensation  than that of 
jealousy on beholding the wreath of     
merit placed on the  brow of a deserving
 rival4 ,the ,ephesians1 with republican
 pride1 being  unable to endure the     
reproach which they felt from the       
pre-eminency of  any individual1        
banished to some other state1 the       
citizen who presumed  to excel the      
generality of his countrymen4 ,it would 
be1 in some measure1  adopting this     
egregious and tyrannical folly1 were ,i 
to exhort the man  whose merits         
transcend those who are his equals in   

rank1 or station1  to break off all     
intercourse and connexion with them2 but
 ,i am certain  that he might1 by an    
occasional retirement1 elude the effects
 of their  envy1 and avoid those        
provocations to which1 by his           
superiority1 he will  otherwise be      
continually exposed4    ,to treat the   
frailties of our fellow creatures with  
tenderness1 to  correct their errors    
with kindness1 to view even their vices 
with pity1  and to induce1 by every     
friendly attention1 a mutual complacency
 and good  will1 is not only an         
important moral duty1 but a means of    
increasing the  sum of earthly          
happiness4 ,it is1 indeed1 difficult to 
prevent an honest  mind from bursting   
forth with generous indignation against 
those artful  hypocrites who1 by        
specious and plausible practices1 obtain
 the false  character of being wise and 
good1 and obtrude their flimsy and      
heterodox  opinions upon the unthinking 
world1 as the fair and genuine          

sentiments  of truth and virtue4 ,the   
anger which arises in a generous and    
ardent  mind1 on hearing a noble action 
calumniated1 or a useful work           
illiberally  attacked1 is not easily    
restrained2 but such feelings should be 
checked  and regulated with a greater   
degree of caution than even if they were
  less virtuous and praiseworthy2 for1  
if they are indulged with frequency1    
their natural violence may weaken the   
common charities of the mind1 and       
convert its very goodness and love of   
virtue into a mournful misanthropy1  or 
virulent detestation of mankind4    ,let
 not the man1 whose exalted mind1       
improved by study and observation1      
surveys with a discriminating eye the   
moral depravities and mental  weaknesses
 of human nature1 submit to treat his   
envious inferiors with  inveterate      
anger1 and undistinguishing revenge4    
,their envy as a tribute  of approbation
 to his greatness4 ,let him look with   
the gentle eye of  pity upon those who  

err rather from the wicked suggestions  
of others1  than from the malevolence of
 their own hearts3 let him not confound 
the weak and innocent reptile with the  
scorpion and the viper2 let him  listen1
 without emotion1 to the malignant      
barking and envious hissings  that      
everywhere attend the footsteps of      
transcendent merit2 let him  disregard1 
with philosophic dignity1 the senseless 
clamors of those noisy  adversaries who 
are blinded by prejudice1 and deaf to   
the arguments  of sense and reason3 let 
him rather1 by a mild and forbearing    
temper1  endeavor to make some          
impression on their hearts2 and if he   
should find  their bosoms susceptible1  
he may hope in time to convince them of 
their  errors1 and1 without violence or 
compulsion1 bring back their deluded    
understandings to a sense of truth1 and 
the practice of virtue2 but1 if         
experience convince him that every      
endeavor to reform them is fruitless    
and vain1 let him--        ,neglect the 

grumblers of an envious age1      ,vapid
 in spleen1 or brisk in frothy rage2    
,critics1 who1 ere they understand1     
defame2      ,and seeming friends who   
only do not blame1      ,and puppet     
prattlers1 whose unconscious throat     
,transmits what the pert witling prompts
 by rote3      ,let him neglect this    
blind and babbling crowd1      ,to enjoy
 the favor of the wise and good4        
,slander1 however1 by fixing her talons 
on the most virtuous characters1        
generally defeats her own malice1 and   
proclaims their merit4 ,it may1  indeed1
 tend to diminish their inclination for 
general society1 and to  render them1 in
 some degree1 apprehensive of the danger
 of even well  deserved fame4 8,durable 
fame10 says ,petrarch1 8is only to be   
derived from  the practice of virtue1   
and from such works as are worthy of    
descending  from generation to          
generation4 ,as to praters1 gowned      
gentlemen1 that  walk in their silks1   
glitter in their jewels1 and are pointed

 at by the  people1 all their bravery   
and pomp1 their show of knowledge1 and  
their  thundering speeches1 last only   
with their lungs1 and then vanish into  
thin smoke2 for the acquisition of      
wealth1 and the desires of ambition1    
are no witnesses of true desert4 ,i     
think ,i shall have fame after my       
death2 and that is a fame from which no 
profit is derived2 but1 on the          
contrary1 frequently injures1 while     
alive1 the person who is to enjoy it    
when dead4 ,what procured the           
destruction of ,cicero1 ,demosthenes1   
and  ,zeno1 but foul and haggard envy of
 their fame8 ,what brought the chosen   
men of the great ship ,argos to         
,colchis1 but the fame of that king's   
riches8 ,for what else was signified by 
the ,golden ,fleece1 but the riches     
seized by these marauders1 destitute of 
true riches1 and who were clad  with    
fleeces not their own80 ,many1 indeed1  
whose merits have cast a  radiance      
around their characters1 have hidden its

 splendors with the  shades of          
retirement to avoid giving uneasiness to
 envy2 and1 by being  deprived of that  
warm and aspiring tribute of applause   
which they had  gloriously and justly   
earned1 have1 in some instances at      
least1 indulged  too keen a sense of the
 depravity of mankind4 ,solon1 after    
having in vain  exhorted the ,athenians 
to resist the tyranny of ,pisistratus1  
and save the  liberties of that country1
 on which he had conferred such         
distinguished  services1 returned to his
 own house1 and placing his weapons at  
the  street door1 exclaimed1 as a last  
effort1 8,i have done all in my power   
to save my country and defend its laws60
 and then retired from the  tumults of  
public life1 to weep in silence over the
 servility of the  ,athenians1 and the  
fate of ,athens4 ,history affords many  
illustrious  instances1 both ancient and
 modern1 of the like kind3 for there    
never  was a statesman1 who possessed a 
great mind and manly feelings1 that did 

not1 even during the plentitude of his  
power1 occasionally wish to escape  from
 the incorrigible vices which prevail in
 courts1 to the enjoyment  of the more  
innocent pleasures and humble virtues   
which surround the  cottage4 ,such      
exalted characters cannot observe1      
without the highest  disgust1 and       
keenest indignation1 the virtues of the 
best1 and the  services of the bravest  
men of the nation1 blasted by the       
envious breath  of brainless placemen1  
or the insidious insinuations of female 
favorites1  whose whole time is employed
 in caressing their monkies and         
paroquets1  or in aspersing the merits  
of those who boldly seek their fortune  
by  the open and manly road of true     
desert1 and not by the deep1 dark1 and  
crooked paths of flattery and intrigue4 
,can such a man behold the double       
dealing and deceitful artifices by which
 the excellency of princes is           
corrupted1 their imaginations dazzled1  
their discernment blinded1 and  their   

minds led astray without feeling        
uncommon indignation8 ,certainly  not4  
,but however acutely his bosom may feel1
 or tongue express his  sense of such   
prevailing practices1 he must still be  
forced to see1  with even a more        
contemptuous and painful sensation1 that
 envious rage  and jealous asperity1    
which burst from the cringing crowd of  
mean and  abject courtiers1 on hearing  
the monarch1 in the grateful feelings of
  his heart1 applaud the eminent and    
faithful services of some gallant       
officer4 ,dion was the principal        
statesman at the court of ,dionysius1   
and  the deliverer of ,sicily4 ,when the
 younger ,dionysius succeeded to the    
throne of his father1 ,dion1 in the     
first council that he held1 spoke  with 
so much propriety on the existing state 
of affairs1 and on the  measures which  
ought to be taken1 that the surrounding 
courtiers appeared  to be mere children 
in comparison4 ,by the freedom of his   
counsels he  exposed1 in a strong light1

 the slavish principles of those who1   
through  a timorous disingenuity1       
advised such measures as they thought   
would  please their prince1 rather than 
such as might advance his interest4 ,but
  what alarmed them most1 were the steps
 he proposed to take with regard to  the
 impending war with ,carthage2 for he   
offered either to go in person  to      
,carthage1 and settle an honorable peace
 with the ,carthagenians1 or1  if war   
should be inevitable1 to fit out and    
maintain fifty gallies at  his own      
expense4 ,dionysius was pleased with the
 magnificence of his  spirit2 but his   
courtiers felt that it made them appear 
little2 and  agreeing that1 at all      
events1 ,dion was to be crushed1 they   
spared for  that purpose no calumny that
 malice could suggest4 ,they represented
 to  the king that this favorite        
certainly meant to make himself master  
by  sea1 and by that means to obtain the
 kingdom for his sister's children4     
,there was1 moreover1 another and       

obvious cause of their hatred to him1 in
  the reserve of his manners1 and the   
sobriety of his life4 ,they led the     
young and ill-educated king through     
every species of debauchery1 and were   
the shameless panders of his wrong      
directed passions4 ,their enmity to     
,dion1 who had no taste for luxurious   
enjoyments1 was a thing of course2  and 
as he refused to partake with them in   
their vices1 they resolved  to strip him
 of his virtues2 to which they gave the 
name of such vices  as are supposed to  
resemble them4 ,his gravity of manners  
they called  pride2 his freedom of      
speech1 insolence2 his declining to join
 in their  licentiousness1 contempt4 ,it
 is true1 there was a natural           
haughtiness  in his deportment and an   
asperity that was unsociable1 and       
difficult  of access2 so that it was not
 to be wondered at if he found no ready 
admission to the ears of a young king1  
already spoiled by flattery4  ,willing  
to impute the irregularities of         

,dionysius to ignorance and bad         
education1 ,dion endeavored to engage   
him in a course of liberal studies1  and
 to give him a taste for those sciences 
which have a tendency to moral          
improvement4 ,but in this wise and      
virtuous resolution he was opposed by   
all the artifices of court intrigue4    
,men1 in proportion as their minds are  
dignified with noble sentiments1  and   
their hearts susceptible of refined     
sensibility1 feel a justifiable         
aversion to the society of such         
characters1 and shrink from the scenes  
they frequent2 but they should          
cautiously guard against the intrusions 
of that austerity and moroseness with   
which such a conduct is but too  apt to 
inspire the most benevolent minds4      
,disgusted by the vices and  follies of 
the age1 the mind becomes insensibly    
impressed with a hatred  toward the     
species1 and loses1 by degrees1 that    
mild and humane temper  which is so     
indispensably necessary to the enjoyment

 of social happiness4  ,even he who     
merely observes the weak or vicious     
frailties of his fellow  creatures with 
an intention to study philosophically   
the nature and  disposition of man1     
cannot avoid remembering their defects  
with severity1  and viewing the         
character he contemplates with contempt1
 especially if  he happens to be the    
object of their artifices1 and the dupe 
of their  villanies4 ,contempt is       
closely allied with hatred2 and hatred  
of mankind  will corrupt1 in time1 the  
fairest mind3 it tinges1 by degrees1    
every  object with the bile of          
misanthropy2 perverts the judgment2 and 
at length  looks indiscriminately with  
an evil eye on the good and bad1        
engenders  suspicion1 fear1 jealousy1   
revenge1 and all the black catalogue of 
unworthy and malignant passions3 and    
when these dreadful enemies have        
extirpated every generous sentiment from
 the breast1 the unhappy victim  abhors 
society1 disclaims his species1 sighs1  

like ,st4 ,hyacinth1 for  some distant  
and secluded island1 and with savage    
barbarity1 defends the  inviolability of
 its boundaries by the cruel repulsion1 
and1 perhaps1 the  death of those       
unhappy mortals whom misfortune may     
drive1 hapless and  unpitied1 to its    
inhospitable shores4    ,but if         
misanthropy be capable of producing such
 direful effects on well  disposed      
minds1 how shocking must be the         
character whose disposition1  naturally 
rancorous1 is heightened and inflamed by
 an habitual hatred and  malignancy     
toward his fellow creatures6 ,in        
,swisserland1 ,i once beheld  a monster 
of this description2 ,i was compelled to
 visit him by the  duties of my         
profession2 but ,i shudder while ,i     
recollect the enormity of  his          
character4 ,his body was almost as      
deformed as his mind4 ,enmity was       
seated on his distorted brow4 ,scales of
 livid incrustation1 the joint  produce 
of his corrupted body and distempered   

mind1 covered his face4 ,his  horrid    
figure made me fancy that ,i saw        
,medusa's serpents wreathing their      
baleful folds among the black and matted
 locks of his dishevelled hair2  while  
his red and fiery eyes glared like      
malignant meteors through the  obscurity
 of his impending eyebrows4 ,mischief   
was his sole delight1 his  greatest     
luxury1 and his highest joy4 ,to sow    
discord among his neighbors1  and to    
tear open the closing wounds of misery1 
was his only occupation4  ,his residence
 was the resort of the disorderly1 the  
receptacle of  the vicious1 and the     
asylum of the guilty4 ,collecting around
 him the  turbulent and discontented of 
every description1 he became the patron 
of injustice1 the protector of villany1 
the perpetrator of malice1 the  inventer
 of fraud1 the propagator of calumny1   
and the zealous champion  of cruelty and
 revenge2 directing1 with malignant aim1
 the barbed shafts  of his adherents    
equally against the comforts of private 

peace and the  blessings of public      
tranquillity4 ,the bent and inclination 
of his nature  had been so aggravated   
and confirmed by the 8multiplying       
villanies of  his life10 that it was    
impossible for him to refrain one moment
 from the  practice of them1 without    
feeling uneasiness and discontent2 and  
he never  appeared perfectly happy1 but 
when new opportunities occurred to glut 
his  infernal soul with the spectacle of
 human miseries4    ,the ,timon of      
,lucian was in some measure excusable   
for his excessive  hatred to mankind1 by
 the unparallelled wrongs they had      
heaped upon  him4 ,the inexorable       
antipathy he entertained against the    
species had  been provoked by injuries  
almost too great for the common         
fortitude of  humanity to endure4 ,his  
probity humanity1 and charity to the    
poor1 had  been the ruin of him2 or     
rather his own folly1 easiness of       
disposition1  and want of judgment in   
his choice of friends4 ,he never        

discovered that  he was giving away his 
all to wolves and ravens4 ,whilst these 
vultures  were preying on his liver1 he 
thought them his best friends1 and that 
they fed upon him out of pure love and  
affection4 ,after they had gnawed  him  
all round1 ate his bones bare1 and      
whilst there was any marrow in  them1   
sucked it carefully out1 they left him  
cut down to the roots  and withered2 and
 so far from relieving him1 or assisting
 him in their  turns1 would not so much 
as know or look upon him4 ,this made him
 turn a  common laborer2 and1 dressed in
 his skin garment1 he tilled the earth  
for hire2 ashamed to show himself in the
 city1 and venting his rage  against the
 ingratitude of those who1 enriched1 as 
they had been by  him now proudly passed
 along without noticing him4 ,but       
although such a  character is not to be 
despised or neglected1 no provocation1  
however  great can justify the violent  
and excessive invectives which he       
profanely  bellowed forth from the      

bottom of ,hymettus2 8this spot of earth
 shall  be my only habitation while ,i  
live2 and when ,i am dead1 my sepulchre4
  ,from this time forth1 it is my fixed 
resolution to have no commerce or       
connexion with mankind2 but to despise  
them1 and avoid it4 ,i will pay  no     
regard to acquaintance1 friendship1 pity
 or compassion4 ,to pity the            
distressed1 or to relieve the indigent1 
,i shall consider as a weakness1  nay1  
as a crime2 my life1 like that of the   
beasts of the field1 shall  be spent in 
solitude2 and ,timon alone shall be     
,timon's friend4 ,i will  treat all     
beside as enemies and betrayers4 ,to    
converse with them were  profanation6 to
 herd with them impiety4 ,accursed be   
the day that brings  them to my sight6  
,i will look upon men1 in short1 as no  
more than so  many statues of brass or  
stone2 will make no truce1 have no      
connexion  with them4 ,my retreat shall 
be the boundary to separate us for ever4
  ,relations1 friends1 and country1 are 

empty names1 respected by fools  alone4 
,let ,timon only be rich and despise all
 the world beside4 ,abhorring  idle     
praise1 and odious flattery1 he shall be
 delighted with himself  alone4 ,alone  
shall he sacrifice to the gods1 feast   
alone1 be his own  neighbor1 and his own
 companion4 ,i am determined to be alone
 for life2  and when ,i die1 to place   
the crown upon my own head4 ,the fairest
 name ,i  would be distinguished by is  
that of a misanthrope4 ,i would be known
 and  marked out by my asperity of      
manners2 by moroseness1 cruelty1 anger1 
and  inhumanity4 ,were ,i to see a man  
perishing in the flames1 and imploring  
me to extinguish them1 ,i would throw   
pitch or oil into the fire to  increase 
it2 or1 if the winter flood should      
overwhelm another1 who1 with            
out-stretched hands should beg me to    
assist him1 ,i would plunge him still   
deeper in the stream1 that he might     
never rise again4 ,thus shall ,i be     
revenged of mankind4 ,this is ,timon's  

law1 and this hath ,timon ratified4  ,i 
should be glad1 however1 that all might 
know how ,i abound in riches1  because  
that ,i know will make them miserable40 
,the moral to be drawn from this        
dialogue of the celebrated ,grecian     
philosopher1 is the extreme danger to   
which the best and most benevolent      
characters may be exposed1 by an        
indiscreet and unchecked indulgence  of 
those painful feelings with which the   
baseness and ingratitude of  the world  
are apt to wound the heart4 ,there are1 
however1 those who1  without having     
received ill treatment from the world1  
foster in their  bosoms a splenetic     
animosity against society1 and secretly 
exult in the  miseries and misfortunes  
of their fellow creatures4 ,indulging   
themselves  in the indolent habits of   
vice and vanity1 and feeling a          
mortification  in being disappointed of 
those rewards which virtuous industry   
can alone  bestow1 they seek a gloomy   
solitude to hide them from those lights 

which  equally discover the errors of   
vice and the rectitude of virtue4       
,unable  to attain glory for themselves1
 and incapable of enduring the lustre of
  it in others1 they creep into         
discontented retirement1 from which they
  only emerge to envy the satisfaction  
which accompanies real merit1 to        
calumniate the character to which it    
belongs2 and1 like satan1 on the  view  
of paradise1 to 8see undelighted all    
delight40    ,there are1 however1 a     
class of a very different description1  
who1  unoppressed by moody melancholy1  
untinctured by petulance or spleen1     
free from resentment1 and replete with  
every generous thought and  manly       
sentiment1 calmly and contentedly retire
 from society1 to enjoy1                
uninterruptedly1 a happy communion with 
those high and enlightened minds1  who  
have adorned by their actions the page  
of history1 enlarged by their  talents  
the powers of the human mind1 and       
increased by their virtues the          

happiness of mankind4    ,retirement1   
however solitary it may be1 when entered
 into with such a  temper of mind1      
instead of creating or encouraging any  
hatred toward  the species1 raises our  
ideas of the possible dignity of human  
nature2  disposes our hearts to feel1   
and our hands to relieve1 the           
misfortunes  and necessities of our     
fellow creatures2 calls to our minds    
what high  capacious powers lie folded  
up in man2 and giving to every part of  
creation its finest forms1 and richest  
colors1 exhibits to our admiration  its 
brightest glories and highest           
perfections1 and induces us to          
transplant the charm which exists in our
 own bosoms into the bosoms of  others4 
''' ,the spacious west1      ,and all   
the teeming regions of the south1       
,hold not a quarry1 to the curious      
flight      ,of knowledge1 half so      
tempting1 or so fair1      ,as man to   
man3 nor only where the smiles      ,of 
love invite2 nor only where the applause

      ,of cordial honor turns the       
attentive eye      ,on virtue's graceful
 deeds2 for since the course      ,of   
things external acts in different ways  
,on human apprehension1 as the hand     
,of nature tempered to a different frame
      ,peculiar minds1 so haply where   
the powers      ,of fancy neither lessen
 nor enlarge      ,the images of things1
 but paint1 in all      ,their genuine  
hues1 the features which they wear      
,in nature1 there opinions will be true1
      ,and action right4'''    ,a       
rational solitude1 while it corrects the
 passions1 improves the  benevolent     
dispositions of the heart1 increases the
 energies of the mind1  and draws forth 
its latent powers4 ,the ,athenian       
orator1 ,callistratus1  was to plead in 
the cause which the city of ,oropus had 
depending2 and  the expectation of the  
public was greatly raised1 both by the  
powers of  the orator1 which were then  
in the highest repute1 and the          
importance  of the trial4 ,demosthenes1 

hearing the governors and tutors agree  
among  themselves to attend the trial1  
with much importunity prevailed on  his 
master to take him to hear the pleaders4
 ,the master having some  acquaintance  
with the officer who opened the court1  
got his young pupil a  seat where he    
could hear the orators without being    
seen4 ,callistratus had  great success1 
and his abilities were extremely        
admired4 ,demosthenes was  fired with   
the spirit of emulation4 ,when he saw   
with what distinction the  orator was   
conducted home1 and complimented by the 
people1 he was struck  still more with  
the power of that commanding eloquence  
which would carry  all before it4 ,from 
this time1 therefore1 he bade adieu to  
the other  studies and exercises in     
which boys are engaged1 and applied     
himself  with great assiduity to        
declaiming1 in hope of being one day    
numbered  among the orators4 ,satyrus1  
the player who was an acquaintance of   
his1  and to whom he lamented1 after    

having been for some time called to the 
bar1 8that though he had almost         
sacrificed his health to his studies1 he
  could gain no favor with the people10 
promised to provide him with a  remedy1 
if he would repeat some speech in       
,euripides or ,sophocles4 ,when         
,demosthenes had finished his           
recitation1 ,satyrus pronounced the same
  speech2 and he did it with such       
propriety of action1 and so much in     
character1 that it appeared to the      
orator quite a different passage2 and   
,demosthenes now understanding how much 
grace and dignity of action adds  to the
 best oration1 quitted the practice of  
composition1 and1 building a            
subterraneous study repaired thither1   
for two or three months together1  to   
form his action1 and exercise his voice2
 and1 by this means formed  that strong1
 impassioned1 and irresistible          
eloquence1 which rendered  him the glory
 of ,athens1 and the admiration of the  
world4 ,most of the  exalted heroes1    

both of ,greece and ,rome1 who devoted  
their attention to  arts and to arms1   
acquired their chief excellency in their
 respective  pursuits1 by retiring from 
public observation1 and cultivating     
their  talents in the silence of        
solitude4 ,st4 ,jerome1 the most learned
 of all  the ,latin fathers1 and son of 
the celebrated ,eusebius1 retired from  
the  persecution of religious fury into 
an obscure and dreary desert in ,syria1 
where he attained that rich1 animated1  
and sublime style of eloquence1  which  
afterward so essentially contributed to 
support the rising church1  and to      
enlighten while it dazzled the          
,christian world4 ,the ,druids1 or      
ministers of religion among the ancient 
,gauls1 ,britons1 and ,germans1         
retired1 in the intervals of their      
sacred functions1 into awful forests    
and consecrated groves1 where they      
passed their time in useful study and   
pious prayers2 and while they acquired a
 complete knowledge of astrology1       

geometry1 natural philosophy1 politics1 
geography1 morals1 and religion1        
rendered themselves happy and revered1  
and produced1 by the wise  instruction  
they were capable of affording to       
others1 but particularly  to youth1     
whose education they superintended1 a   
bright succession of  priests1          
legislators1 counsellors1 judges1       
physicians1 philosophers1 and  tutors1  
to the respective nations in which they 
resided4    ,the modern ,julian1 the    
justly celebrated ,frederic1 king of    
,prussia1  derives the highest          
advantages from his disguised retirement
 at ,sans  ,souci1 where he contrives   
the means of hurling inevitable         
destruction  against the enemies of his 
country2 listens to and relieves with   
all the  anxiety of a tender parent1 the
 complaints and injuries of his meanest 
subjects2 and recreates his excursive   
mind1 by revising and correcting  his   
immortal works for the admiration of    
posterity4 ,philosophy1 poetry1  and    

politics1 are the successive objects of 
his attention2 and while he  extends his
 views1 and strengthens his             
understanding1 by the study of  ancient 
wisdom1 he meliorates his heart by the  
delightful offerings of  the muses1 and 
increases the public strength by the    
wise and economical  management of his  
resources4 ,an awful silence1           
interrupted only by gentle  airs with   
which it is refreshed1 pervades this    
delightful retreat4 ,it  was during the 
twilight of an autumnal evening that ,i 
visited this  solemn scene4 ,as ,i      
approached the apartment of this        
philosophic hero1  ,i discovered him    
sitting1 8nobly pensive10 near a small  
table1 from  which shone the feeble rays
 of a common taper4 ,no jealous         
sentinels1 or  ceremonious chamberlain1 
impeded my progress by scrutinizing     
inquiries  of suspicion and mistrust2   
and ,i walked free and unchecked1 except
 by  respect and veneration1 through the
 humble unostentatious retreat of this  

extraordinary man4 ,all characters1     
however high and illustrious they may   
be1 who wish to attain a comprehensive  
view of things1 and to shine in  the    
highest spheres of virtue1 must learn   
the rudiments of glory under  the       
discipline of occasional retirement4    
,solitude is frequently sought from an  
inclination to extend the knowledge  of 
our talents and characters to those with
 whom we have no opportunity  of being  
immediately acquainted2 by preparing    
with greater care1 and  closer          
application1 for the inspection of our  
contemporaries1 works  worthy of the    
fame we are so anxious to acquire3 but  
it seldom happens1  alas6 that those    
whose labors are most pregnant with     
instruction and  delight1 have received1
 from the age or country in which they  
lived1  or even from the companions with
 whom they associated1 the tribute of   
kindness or applause that is justly due 
to their merits4 ,the work which  is    
stigmatized and traduced by the envy1   

ignorance1 or local prejudices  of a    
country1 for whose delight and          
instruction it was particularly         
intended1 frequently receives from the  
generous suffrages of impartial  and    
unprejudiced strangers1 the highest     
tribute of applause4 ,even those        
pretended friends1 under whose auspices 
it was at first undertaken1 upon  whose 
advice it proceeded1 and upon whose     
judgment it was at length  published1 no
 sooner hear its praises resounded from 
distant quarters1  than they permit the 
poisoned shafts of calumny to fly       
unaverted around  the unsuspecting      
author1 and warrant1 by their silence1  
or assist1 by  their sneers1 every      
insidious insinuation against his       
motives or his  principles4 ,this       
species of malevolence has been         
feelingly painted by  the celebrated    
,petrarch4 8,no sooner had my fame10    
says he1 8risen above  the level of that
 which my contemporaries had acquired1  
than every  tongue babbled1 and every   

pen was brandished against me3 those who
 had  before appeared to be my dearest  
friends1 instantly became my deadliest  
enemies3 the shafts of envy were        
industriously directed against me from  
every quarter3 the critics1 to whom my  
poetry had before been much more        
familiar than their psalms or their     
prayers1 seized1 with malignant         
delight1 every opportunity of traducing 
my morals2 and those with whom  ,i had  
been most intimate1 were the most eager 
to injure my character1  and destroy my 
fame40 ,the student1 however1 ought not 
to be discouraged  by this instance of  
envy and ingratitude4 ,he who1 conscious
 of his  merit1 learns to depend only on
 himself for support1 will forget the   
injustice of the world1 and draw his    
comfort and satisfaction from more      
infallible sources3 like the truly      
benevolent and great1 he will confer    
his favors on the public without the    
expectation of a return2 and look  with 
perfect indifference upon all the       

efforts his treacherous friends1  or    
open enemies1 are capable of using4 ,he 
will1 like ,petrarch1 appeal to         
posterity for his reward2 and the       
justice and generosity of future ages   
will preserve his fame to succeeding    
generations1 heightened and adorned  in 
proportion as it has been               
contemporaneously mutilated and         
depressed4    ,the genius of many noble 
minded authors1 particularly in         
,germany1  are obscured and blighted by 
the thick and baneful fogs with which   
ignorance and envy overwhelm their      
works4 ,unable to withstand the         
incessant opposition they meet with1 the
 powers of the mind grow feeble  and    
relaxed2 and many a fair design and     
virtuous pursuit is quitted  in despair4
 ,how frequently does the desponding    
mind exclaim1 8,i feel  my powers       
influenced by the affections of the     
heart4 ,i am certainly  incapable of    
doing to any individual an intentional  
injury1 and ,i seek  with anxiety every 

opportunity of doing good2 but1 alas6 my
 motives are  perverted1 my designs     
misrepresented1 my endeavors            
counteracted1 my very  person ridiculed1
 and my character defamed40 ,there are1 
indeed1 those  whose courage and        
fortitude no opposition can damp1 and no
 adversity  subdue2 whose firm and      
steady minds proceed with determined    
resolution  to accomplish their designs 
in defiance of all resistance2 and whose
  bright talents drive away the clouds  
of surrounding dulness1 like  fogs      
before the sun4 ,wieland1 the happy     
,wieland1 the adopted child of  every   
muse1 the favorite pupil of the graces1 
formed the powers of his  extraordinary 
mind in a lonely and obscure retreat1   
the little village of  ,biberach1 in the
 circle of ,suabia1 and thereby laid the
 foundation for  that indisputable glory
 he has since attained4 ,in solitude and
 silence  he enriched his mind with all 
the stores that art and science could   
produce1 and enabled himself to delight 

and instruct mankind1 by adorning  the  
sober mien of philosophy1 and the lively
 smiles of wit1 with the  true spirit   
and irresistible charms of poetry4      
,retirement is the true  parent of the  
great and good1 and the kind nurse of   
nature's powers4 ,it  is to occasional  
retirement that politics owe the ablest 
statesmen1 and  philosophy the most     
celebrated sages4 ,did ,aristotle1 the  
peripatetic  chief1 compose his profound
 systems in the tumultuous court of     
,philip1 or  were the sublime theories  
of his master conceived among the noisy 
feasts  of the tyrant ,dionysius8 ,no4  
,the celebrated groves of the ,academy1 
and  the shades of ,atarnya1 bear       
witness of the important advantages     
which1  in the opinion of both ,plato   
and ,aristotle1 learning may derive from
 a  rational retirement4 ,these great   
men1 like all others who preceded or    
have followed them1 found in the ease   
and quietude of retirement the  best    
means of forming their minds and        

extending their discoveries4 ,the       
celebrated ,leibnitz1 to whom the world 
is deeply indebted1 passed a great  part
 of every year at an humble1 quiet1     
retired1 and beautiful villa  which he  
possessed in the vicinity of ,hanover4  
,to this catalogue of causes1 conducing 
to a love of solitude1 or hatred  of    
society1 we may add religion and        
fanaticism4 ,the benign genius  of      
religion leads the mind to a love of    
retirement from motives the  highest1   
the most noble1 and most really         
interesting1 that can possibly  be      
conceived1 and produces the most perfect
 state of human happiness1  by          
instilling into the heart the most      
virtuous propensities1 and  inspiring   
the mind with its finest energies3 but  
fanaticism must ever be  unhappy3 for it
 proceeds from a subversion of nature   
itself1 is formed  on a perversion of   
reason1 and a violation of truth2 it is 
the vice of  low and little             
understandings1 is produced by an       

ignorance of human  nature1 a           
misapprehension of the ,deity1 and      
cannot be practised without             
renunciation of real virtue4 ,the       
passion of retirement1 which a sense  of
 religion enforces1 rises in proportion 
as the heart is pure1 and the  mind     
correct2 but the disposition to         
solitude1 which fanaticism creates1     
arises from a wild enthusiastic notion  
of inspiration1 and increases in        
proportion as the heart is corrupt1 and 
the mind deranged4 ,religion is  the    
offspring of truth and love1 and the    
parent of benevolence1 hope1  and joy3  
but the monster fanaticism is the child 
of discontent1 and  her followers are   
fear and sorrow4 ,religion is not       
confined to cells  and closets1 nor     
restrained to sullen retirement2 these  
are the gloomy  retreats of fanaticism1 
by which she endeavors to break those   
chains  of benevolence and social       
affection that link the welfare of every
  individual with that of the whole4    

,the greatest honor we can pay to the   
,author of our being1 is such a cheerful
 behavior as discovers a mind  satisfied
 with his dispensations4 ,but this      
temper of mind is most likely  to be    
attained by a rational retirement from  
the cares and pleasures of  the world4  
,the disposition to solitude1 however1  
of whatever kind or complexion it  may  
be1 is greatly influenced by the temper 
and constitution of the body1  as well  
as by the frame and turn of the mind4   
,the action of those causes  proceeds1  
perhaps1 by slow and insensible degrees1
 and varies in its  form and manner in  
each individual2 but though gradual or  
multiform1 it  at length reaches its    
point1 and confirms the subject of it in
 habits of  rational retreat1 or        
unnatural solitude4    ,the motives     
which conduce to a love of solitude     
might1 without doubt1  be assigned to   
other causes2 but a discussion of all   
the refined  operations to which the    
mind may be exposed1 and its bent and   

inclination  determined1 by the two     
great powers of sensation and           
reflection1 would  be more curious than 
useful4 ,relinquishing all inquiry into 
the primary  or remote causes of human  
action1 to those who are fond of the    
useless  subtilties of metaphysics1 and 
confining our researches to those final 
or  immediate causes which produce this 
disposition to enjoy the benefits of    
rational retirement1 or encounter the   
mischiefs of irrational solitude1  we   
shall proceed to show the mischiefs     
which may result from the one1 in  order
 that they may be contrasted with the   
advantages which1 in the first  part1 we
 have already shown may be derived from 
the other4          ,,chapter ,,iii4    
,the disadvantages of solitude4         
,the retirement which is not the result 
of cool and deliberate reason1  so far  
from improving the feelings of the      
heart1 or strengthening the  powers of  
the mind1 generally renders men less    
able to discharge the  duties and endure

 the burdens of life4 ,the wisest and   
best formed system  of retirement is1   
indeed1 surrounded with a variety of    
dangers1 which  are not1 without the    
greatest care and caution1 easily       
avoided4 ,but in  every species of total
 solitude1 the perils are not only      
innumerable1 but  almost irresistible4  
,it would1 however1 be erroneous to     
impute all the  defects which may       
characterize such a recluse merely to   
the loneliness  of his situation4 ,there
 are original defects implanted by the  
hand  of nature in every constitution1  
which no species of retirement and      
discipline can totally eradicate3 there 
are certain vices1 the seeds of  which  
are so inherent1 that no care1 however  
great1 can totally destroy4  ,the       
advantages or disadvantages arising from
 retirement1 will always be             
proportionate to the degrees of virtue  
and vice which prevail in the  character
 of the recluse4 ,it is certain that an 
occasional retreat from  the business of

 the world will greatly improve the     
virtues1 and increase  the happiness1 of
 him on whom nature has bestowed a sound
 understanding  and a sensible heart2   
but when the heart is corrupt1 the      
understanding  weak1 the imagination    
flighty1 and the disposition depraved1  
solitude  only tends to increase the    
evil and to render the character more   
rank  and vicious2 for whatever be the  
culture1 the produce will unavoidably   
partake of the quality of the seeds and 
the nature of the soil2 and  solitude1  
by allowing a weak and wicked mind      
leisure to brood over its  own          
suggestions1 recreates and rears the    
mischief it was intended to  prevent4   
8''' ,where solitude1 sad nurse of care1
      ,to sickly musing gives the       
pensive mind1      ,there madness       
enters3 and the dim-eyed fiend1         
,lorn melancholy1 night and day provokes
      ,her own eternal wound4 ,the sun  
grows pale2      ,a mournful visionary  
light o'erspreads      ,the cheerful    

face of nature2 earth becomes      ,a   
dreary desert2 and the heavens frown    
above4      ,the various shapes of      
cursed illusion rise2      ,whate'er the
 wretched fear1 creating fear           
,forms out of nothing2 and with monsters
 teems      ,unknown in hell4 ,the      
prostrate soul beneath      ,a load of  
huge imagination heaves3      ,and all  
the horrors that the guilty feel1       
,with anxious flutterings wake the      
guilty breast4      ,from other cares   
absolved1 the busy mind      ,finds in  
itself a theme to pore upon2      ,and  
finds it miserable1 or makes it so40    
,to enable the mind1 however1 to form an
 accurate judgment of the  probable     
consequences of solitude1 it is1        
perhaps1 necessary to have  seen        
instances both of its advantageous and  
detrimental effects4 ,the  consequences 
vary with the subject on which it       
operates2 and the same  species of      
solitude which to one character would be
 injurious1 will  prove to another of   

the highest benefit and advantage4 ,the 
same person1  indeed1 may at different  
periods1 as his disposition changes1    
experience1  under similar circumstances
 of retirement1 very different effects4 
,certain1 however1 it is1 that an       
occasional retreat from the tumultuous  
intercourses of society1 or a judicious 
and well arranged retirement1  cannot be
 prejudicial4 ,to have pointed out the  
train of virtues it is  capable of      
producing1 and to have been silent upon 
the black catalogue of  vices that may  
result from extreme seclusion1 would    
have been the more  pleasing task2 but  
,i have undertaken to draw the character
 of solitude  impartially1 and must     
therefore point out its possible        
defects4    ,man in a sate of solitary  
indolence and inactivity1 sinks by      
degrees  like stagnant water into       
impurity and corruption4 ,the body      
suffers with  the mind's decay4 ,it is  
more fatal than excess of action4 ,it is
 a malady  that renders every hope of   

recovery vain and visionary4 ,to sink   
from  action into rest1 is only         
indulging the common course of nature2  
but to  rise from long continued        
indolence to voluntary activity1 is     
extremely  difficult1 and almost        
impracticable4 ,a celebrated poet has   
finely  described this class of unhappy 
beings in the following lines3          
8,then look'd1 and saw a lazy lolling   
sort1      ,unseen at church1 at senate1
 or at court1      ,of ever listless    
loiterers1 that attend      ,no cause1  
no trust1 no duty1 and no friend4       
,thee1 too1 my ,paridel6 she mark'd thee
 there1      ,stretch'd on the rack of a
 too easy chair1      ,and heard the    
everlasting yawn confess      ,the pains
 and penalties of idleness40    ,to     
preserve the proper strength1 both of   
the body and the mind1 labor  must be   
regularly and seasonably mingled with   
rest4 ,each of them require  their      
suited exercise and relaxations4        
,philosophers1 who aim at the           

attainment of every superior excellency1
 do not indulge themselves in  ease1 and
 securely and indolently wait for the   
cruelties of fortune  to attack them in 
their retirement2 but1 for fear she     
should surprise  them in the state of   
inexperienced and raw soldiers1         
undisciplined for  the battle they sally
 out to meet her1 and put themselves    
into regular  training1 and even upon   
the proof of hardships4 ,those only who 
observe a  proper interchange of        
exercise and rest1 can expect to enjoy  
health of  body1 or cheerfulness of     
mind4 ,it is the only means by which the
 economy  of the human frame can be     
regularly preserved4    ,he1 therefore1 
who does not possess sufficient activity
 to keep the body  and mind in proper   
exercise2 he who is unacquainted with   
the art of  varying his amusements1 of  
changing the subjects of his            
contemplation1  and of finding within   
himself all the materials of enjoyment1 
will  soon feel solitude not only       

burdensome1 but insupportable4 ,to such 
a character1 solitude will not only be  
disagreeable1 but dangerous2  for the   
moment the temporary passion which draws
 him from society has  subsided1 he will
 sink into languor and indifference2 and
 this temper is  always unfavorable to  
moral sentiment4 ,the world1 perhaps1   
with all its  disadvantages1 is less    
likely to be injurious to such a man1   
than the  calm and silent shades of     
unenjoyed retirement4    ,solitude also1
 particularly when carried to an        
extreme1 is apt to render  the character
 of the recluse rigid1 austere1 and     
inflexible1 and of  course1 unsuited to 
the enjoyments of society4 ,the notions 
he contracts  are as singular and       
abstracted as his situation3 he adheres 
to them  with inflexible pertinacity3   
his mind moves only in the accustomed   
track3 he cherishes his preconceived    
errors and prejudices with fond         
attachment1 and despises those whose    
sentiments are contrary to his  own4 ,a 

promiscuous intercourse with society has
 the effect of rendering  the mind      
docile1 and his judgment of men and     
things correct3 for in  the world every 
subject is closely examined1 every      
question critically  discussed2 and1    
while the spirit of controversy and     
opposition elicits  truth1 the mind is  
led into a train of rational            
investigation1 and its  powers          
strengthened and enlarged2 but the mind 
of the recluse being  uninterruptedly   
confined to its own course of reasoning1
 and to the habit  of viewing objects on
 one side1 it is unable to appreciate   
the respective  weights which different 
arguments may deserve1 or to judge in   
doubtful  cases1 on which side1 truth is
 most likely to be found4 ,a commixture 
of different opinions1 on any particular
 subject1 provokes a free and  liberal  
discussion of it1 an advantage which the
 prepossession engendered  by solitude  
uniformly prevents4    ,solitude1 while 
it establishes a dangerous confidence in

 the powers  and opinions of its        
votaries1 not only fastens on the       
characters the  errors and imperfections
 it has produced and fostered1 but      
recommends  them strongly to their      
esteem4 ,how frequently do we observe1  
even in  persons of rank and fortune1   
who reside continually on their own     
estates1  a haughty manner and arbitrary
 disposition1 totally incompatible with 
that candid conduct1 that open minded   
behavior1 that condescending  urbanity1 
that free spirit1 which mark the        
character of the polite and  liberal    
minded gentleman1 and render him the    
veneration and delight of  all around   
him6 8,obstinacy and pride10 says       
,plato1 8are the inevitable             
consequences of a solitary life20 and   
the frequency of the fact certainly     
justifies the observation4 ,retired1    
secluded characters1 having no          
opportunity of encountering the opinions
 of others1 or of listening to  any     
other judgment than their own1 establish

 a species of tyranny over  their       
understandings1 and check that free     
excursion of the intellect  which the   
discovery of truth requires4 ,they      
reject1 with disdain1 the  close        
investigations of logic1 and repel all  
attempts to examine their  arguments1   
and expose their fallacies4 ,their      
preconceived opinions1 which  they      
dignify with the appellation of settled 
truths1 and mistake for  indisputable   
axioms1 have infixed themselves so      
deeply in their minds  that they cannot 
endure the idea of their being rooted   
out or removed3  and they are fearful of
 submitting them to the test of         
controversy1 only  because they were    
originally received without due         
examination1 and have  been confirmed by
 the implicit consent and approbation of
 their inferiors  and dependants4       
,solitude also1 even the solitude which 
poets and philosophers have so          
feelingly described as blissful and     
beneficial1 has frequently proved       

injurious to its delighted votaries4    
,men of letters are1 in general1 too    
inattentive to those easy and           
captivating manners which give such high
  spirit to the address1 and splendid   
decoration to the characters1 of well   
bred men4 ,they seldom qualify the      
awkwardness of scholastic habits by a   
free and intimate intercourse either    
with the world or with each other2  but 
being secluded from society1 and engaged
 in abstracted pursuits1  adopt a       
pedantic phraseology1 an unaccommodating
 address1 formal notions1  and a partial
 attachment to their recondite pursuits4
 ,the common topics  of conversation1   
and usual entertainment of company1 they
 treat with  high1 but unjustifiable    
disdain2 and1 blinded by fogs of pride1 
and ideal  superiority1 are rendered    
incapable of discerning their errors4   
,the correction of this disposition in  
authors has been thought of so  much    
importance to the interests of morals1  
and to the manners of the  rising       

generation1 that scholars in general    
have been exhorted1 in the  highest     
strains of eloquence1 by one of the most
 powerful preachers of  ,germany1 from  
the pulpit of the politest city in the  
empire1 to guard  with unceasing        
vigilance against those defects which   
are so apt to mingle  with the habits of
 the profession1 and which tend to sully
 the brightness  of their characters4   
,the orator invokes them to shake off   
that distant  demeanor1 that unsocial   
reserve1 that supercilious behavior and 
almost  express contempt1 from which few
 of them are free1 and which most of    
them  practise when in unlettered       
company2 and to treat their fellow      
citizens1  however inferior they may be 
in erudition and scholastic knowledge1  
with affability and attention2 to listen
 to their conversation with  politeness2
 to regard their errors with lenity2 to 
view their failings  with compassion1   
and their defects with liberality2 to   
lead them into the  paths of truth and  

science by mild persuasion1 to lure them
 to knowledge  by gentle means1 and1 by 
reducing their conversation and subjects
  of discourse to a level with the      
unlettered understandings of their      
auditors1 to please the heart while they
 instruct the mind4        ,good sense  
and learning may esteem obtain1         
,humor and wit a laugh1 if rightly      
ta'en3      ,fair virtue admiration may 
impart2      ,but 'tis good nature only 
wins the heart3      ,it moulds the body
 to an easy grace1      ,and brightens  
every feature of the face3      ,it     
smooths th' unpolish'd tongue with      
eloquence1      ,and adds persuasion to 
the finest sense4    ,learning and good 
sense1 indeed1 to whatever degree they  
may be  possessed1 can only render the  
possessor happy in proportion as he     
employs them to increase the happiness  
of others4 ,to effect this1 he must     
occasionally endure the jokes of        
dullness without petulance1 and listen  
with complacency to the observations of 

ignorance1 but1 above all1 he  must     
carefully avoid all inclination to      
exhibit his own superiority1 and  to    
shine at the expense of others4         
,learning and wisdom1 indeed1 however   
they may be confounded by arrogant  and 
self-conceited scholars1 are in no      
respects synonymous terms2 but1  on the 
contrary1 are not unfrequently quite at 
variance with each other4  ,the high    
admiration which scholars are too apt to
 entertain of the  excellency of their  
own talents1 and the vast importance    
they generally  ascribe to their own    
characters and merit1 instead of        
producing that  sound judgment upon men 
and things which constitutes true       
wisdom1 only  engenders an effervescence
 in the imagination1 the effect of which
  is in general1 the most frothy folly4 
,many of those who thus pride           
themselves on the pursuits of           
literature1 having nothing to boast of  
but an indefatigable attention to some  
idle and unprofitable study2 a  study   

which1 perhaps only tends to contract   
the feelings of the heart1  and         
impoverish the powers of the mind4 ,true
 wisdom and genuine virtue  are the     
produce of those enlarged views which   
arise from a general  and comprehensive 
knowledge both of books and men3 but    
scholars1 who  confine their attention  
entirely to books1 and feel no interest 
or  concern for the world1 despise every
 object that does not lie within the    
range of their respective studies4 ,by  
poring over obsolete works1 they        
acquire sentiments quite foreign to the 
manners of the age in which we  live2   
form opinions as ridiculous as they are 
unfashionable2 fabricate  systems       
incomprehensible to the rest of mankind2
 and maintain arguments  so offensive   
and absurd1 that whenever they venture  
to display their  acquirements in       
society1 they are1 like the bird of     
night1 hooted back  with derision into  
their daily obscurity4 ,many studious   
characters are  so puffed up by         

arrogance1 presumption1 self-conceit1   
and vanity1 that  they can scarcely     
speak upon any subject without hurting  
the feelings  of their friends and      
giving cause of triumph to their        
enemies4 ,the  counsel and instruction  
they affect to give is so mixed with    
ostentatious  pedantry1 that they       
destroy the very end they wish to       
promote3 and1  instead of acquiring     
honorable approbation1 cover themselves 
with merited  disgrace4 ,plato1 the     
illustrious chief of the academic set of
 ,athenian  philosophers was so totally 
free from this vice of inferior minds1  
that  it was impossible to discover in  
him by ordinary and casual conversation1
  that sublime imagination and almost   
divine intellect1 which rendered him    
the idol of his age1 and the admiration 
of succeeding generations4 ,on his      
return from ,syracuse1 to which place he
 had been invited by ,dionysius  the    
younger1 he visited ,olympia1 to be     
present at the performance of the       

,olympic games2 and he was placed on the
 seat appropriated to foreigners  of the
 highest distinction1 but to whom he was
 not personally known4 ,some  of them   
were so pleased with the ease1          
politeness1 wisdom1 and vivacity  of his
 conversation1 that they accompanied him
 to ,athens1 and1 on their  arrival in  
that city1 requested him to procure them
 an interview with  ,plato4 ,but how    
pleasing and satisfactory was their     
surprise1 when1 on his  replying with a 
smile1 8,i am the person whom you wish  
to see10 they  discovered that this     
affable and entertaining companion1 with
 whom they  had travelled without       
discerning his excellency1 was the most 
learned and  profound philosopher at    
that time existing in the world6 ,the   
studious  and retired life of this      
extraordinary character had not         
decreased his  urbanity and politeness1 
nor deprived him of the exercise of     
those easy  and seducing manners which  
so entirely engage the affection and win

 the  heart4 ,he wisely prevented       
seclusion from robbing him of that      
amenity and  unassuming ease so         
necessary to the enjoyment of society4  
,like those two  eminent philosophers of
 the present day1 the wise ,mendelsohm1 
and the  amiable ,garve1 he derived from
 solitude all the benefits it is capable
  of conferring1 without suffering any  
of those injuries which it too          
frequently inflicts on less powerful    
minds4    ,culpable1 however1 as        
studious characters in general are1 by  
neglecting  to cultivate that social    
address1 and to observe that civility of
  manners1 and urbane attention1 which  
an intercourse not only with  the world1
 but even with private society1 so      
indispensably requires1  certain it is1 
that men of fashion expect from them a  
more refined good  breeding1 and a nicer
 attention to the forms of politeness1  
than all  their endeavors can produce4  
,the fashionable world1 indeed1 are     
blamable  for their constant attempts to

 deride the awkwardness of their more   
erudite and abstracted companions4 ,the 
severity with which they treat the      
defective manners of a scholastic       
visitor1 is a violation of the first    
rules of true politeness1 which consists
 entirely of a happy combination  of    
good sense and good nature1 both of     
which dictate a different conduct1  and 
induce rather a friendly concealment    
than a triumphant exposure  of such     
venial failings4 ,the inexperienced     
scholastic is entitled to  indulgence1  
for he cannot be expected nicely to     
practice customs which  he has had no   
opportunity to learn4 ,to the eye of    
polished life1 his  austerity1 his      
reserve1 his mistakes1 his indecorums1  
may1 perhaps1  appear ridiculous2 but to
 expose him to derision on this subject 
is  destructive to the general interests
 of society1 inasmuch as it tends to    
repress and damp endeavors to please4   
,how is it possible that men who  devote
 the greater portion of their time to   

the solitary and abstracted  pursuits of
 literature1 can possess that           
promptitude of thought1 that  variety of
 expression1 those easy manners1 and    
that varying humor1 which  prevail so   
agreeably in mixed society1 and which   
can only be acquired  by a constant     
intercourse with the world8 ,it was not 
only cruel1 but  unjust1 of the ,swedish
 courtiers to divert themselves with the
 confusion  and embarrassments into     
which ,miebom and ,naude1 two celebrated
 writers  on the music and dances of the
 ancients were thrown1 when the         
celebrated  ,christina desired the one  
to sing and the other to dance in       
public1 for  the entertainment of the   
court4 ,still less excusable were those 
imps of  fashion in ,france1 who exposed
 the celebrated mathematician1 ,nicole1 
to the derision of a large company1 for 
the misapplication of a word4  ,a       
fashionable female at ,paris1 having    
heard that ,nicole1 who had then  lately
 written a profound and highly approved 

treatise on the doctrine  of curves1 was
 greatly celebrated in all the circles  
of science1 and  affecting to be thought
 the patroness and intimate of all      
persons of  distinguished merit1 sent   
him such an invitation to one of her    
parties  that he could not refuse to    
accept of4 ,the abstracted geometrician1
 who  had never before been present at  
an assembly of the kind1 received the   
civilities of his fair hostess1 and her 
illustrious friends1 with all the       
awkwardness and confusion which such a  
scene must naturally create4 ,after     
passing an uncomfortable evening1 in    
answering the observations of those  who
 addressed him1 in which he experienced 
much greater difficulties than  he would
 have found in solving the most         
intricate problem1 he prepared  to take 
his leave1 and pouring out a profusion  
of declarations to the  lady of the     
house1 of the grateful sense he         
entertained of the high honor  she had  
conferred on him1 by her generous       

invitation1 distinguishing  attention1  
polite regard1 and extraordinary        
civility1 rose to the climax  of his    
compliments1 by assuring her1 that the  
lovely little eyes of  his fair         
entertainer had made an impression which
 never could be erased  from his breast1
 and immediately departed4 ,but a kind  
friend1 who was  accompanying him home1 
whispering in his ear1 as they were     
passing the  stairs1 that he had paid   
the lady a very ill compliment1 by      
telling  her that her eyes were little1 
for that little eyes were universally   
understood by the whole sex to be a     
great defect4 ,nicole1 mortified to  an 
extreme by the mistake he had thus      
innocently made1 and resolving  to      
apologize to the lady whom he conceived 
he had offended1 returned  abruptly to  
the company1 and entreated her with     
great humility1 to pardon  the error    
into which his confusion had betrayed   
him of imputing any thing  like         
littleness to so high1 so elegant1 so   

distinguished a character1  declaring   
that he had never beheld such fine large
 eyes1 such fine large  lips1 such fine 
large hands1 or so fine and large a     
person altogether1  in the whole course 
of his life6    ,the professional       
pursuits of students confine them1      
during the early  periods of life1 to   
retirement and seclusion1 and prevent   
them in  general1 from attempting to mix
 in the society of the world until age1 
or  professional habits1 have rendered  
them unfit for this scene4 ,discouraged 
by the neglect they experience1 and by  
the ridicule to which they are  exposed1
 on their first introduction into active
 life1 from persevering  in their       
attempts to shake off the uncouth manner
 they have acquired1  they immediately  
shrink from the displeasing prospect    
into their original  obscurity1 in      
despair of ever attaining the talents   
necessary to render  them agreeable to  
the elegant and gay4 ,there are1 indeed1
 some men1 who1  on attempting to change

 the calm and rational enjoyments of a  
retired and  studious life1 for the more
 lively and loquacious pleasures of     
public  society1 perceive the manners   
and maxims of the world so repugnant to 
their principles1 and so disagreeable to
 their taste and inclinations1  that    
they instantly abandon society1 and1    
renouncing all future attempts  to enter
 into its vortex1 calmly and contentedly
 return to their beloved  retreat under 
an idea that it is wrong for persons of 
such different  dispositions to intermix
 or invade the provinces of each other4 
,there  are also many studious          
characters who avoid society1 under an  
idea that  they have transferred their  
whole minds into their own compositions2
  that they have exhausted all that they
 possessed of either instruction  or    
entertainment2 and that they would1 like
 empty bottles1 or squeezed  oranges1 be
 thrown aside with disregard1 and1      
perhaps1 with contempt1 as  persons no  
longer capable of contributing to       

companionable pleasures4  ,but there are
 others of sounder sense and better     
judgment1 who gladly  relinquish the    
noisy assemblies of public life1 and    
joyfully retire to  the sweet and       
tranquil scenes of rural solitude1      
because they seldom meet  among the     
candidates for public approbation1 a    
single individual capable  of enjoying a
 just thought1 or making a rational     
reflection2 but1 on the  contrary1 have 
to encounter a host of vain1 frivolous  
pretenders to wit  and learning1 who    
herd together1 like the anarchs of      
insurrection1 to  oppose with noise and 
violence1 the progress of truth and the 
exertions  of reason4    ,sentiments    
like these too frequently banish from   
the circles of society  characters of   
useful knowledge and of distinguished   
genius1 and from  whose endowments      
mankind might receive both instruction  
and delight4  ,the loss1 in such a case1
 to the individual is1 perhaps1         
trifling2 his  comforts may possibly be 

increased by his seclusion2 but the     
interests of  truth and good sense are  
thereby considerably injured3 for the   
mind of  man1 however powerful and      
informed it may be in itself1 cannot    
employ its  energies and acquisitions   
with the same advantage and effect1 as  
when it  is whetted by a collision with 
other minds1 and polished by the manners
  of the world4 ,an acquaintance with   
the living characters and manners of    
the world1 teaches the mind to direct   
its powers to their proper and  most    
useful points3 exhibits the means and   
furnishes the instruments1  by which the
 best exertions of virtue can attain her
 ends2 gives morals  their brightest    
color1 taste its highest refinement1 and
 truth its  fairest objects4 ,the wisest
 and best philosophers have acknowledged
  the obligations they were under to    
society for the knowledge they  acquired
 in its extensive1 though dangerous     
school1 and have strongly  recommended  
the study of mankind1 by viewing all the

 various classes with  a discriminating 
eye1 as the best means of becoming      
acquainted with the  beauties of virtue1
 and the deformities of vice1 and1 of   
course1 as  the best means of           
discovering the true road to earthly    
happiness2 for--        ,virtue1        
immortal virtue6 born to please1        
,the child of nature and the source of  
ease1      ,bids every bliss on human   
life attend2      ,to every rank a kind 
and faithful friend2      ,inspirits    
nature 'midst the scenes of toil1       
,smooths languor's cheek1 and bids fell 
want recoil3      ,shines from the mitre
 with unsullied rays1      ,glares on   
the crest1 and gives the star to blaze2 
,supports distinction1 spreads          
ambition's wings1      ,forms saints of 
queens1 and demi-gods of kings2         
,o'er grief1 oppression1 envy1 scorn1   
prevails1      ,and makes a cottage     
greater than ,versailles4    ,a free1   
open1 unconstrained intercourse with    
mankind1 has also the  advantage of     

reconciling us to the peculiarities of  
others1 and of  teaching us the         
important lesson how to accommodate our 
minds and  manners to such principles1  
opinions1 and dispositions1 as may      
differ  from our own4 ,the learned and  
enlightened cannot maintain an          
intercourse  with the illiterate1       
without exercising an extraordinary     
degree of  patience1 conceding many     
points which appear unnatural1 and      
forbearing  to feel those little        
vexations so adherent to characters who 
have  lived in retirement4 ,the         
philosopher1 in order to teach virtue to
 the  world with any hope of success1   
must humor its vices to a certain       
degree1 and sometimes even adopt the    
follies he intends to destroy4 ,to      
inculcate wisdom1 it is necessary to    
follow the examples of ,socrates and    
,wieland1 and1 separating from morals   
all that is harsh1 repulsive1 and       
anti-social1 adopt only the kind and    
complacent tenets of the science4 ,a    

,german author of the present day1 whom 
,i glory to call both my countryman  and
 my friend1 observes1 with the sagacity 
and discrimination of a  critic1 in his 
8,remarks on the ,writings and ,genius  
of ,franklin10 that  the compositions of
 that great and extraordinary character 
are totally  free from that pomp of     
style and parade of erudition1 which so 
frequently  disfigure the writings of   
other authors1 and defeat their intended
  effect4 ,the pen of ,franklin renders 
the most abstract principles easy  and  
familiar4 ,he conveys his instructions  
in pleasing narrations1 lively          
adventures1 or humorous observations2   
and while his manner wins upon  the     
heart1 by the friendly interest he      
appears to take in the concerns  of     
mankind1 his matter instils into the    
mind the soundest principles  of morals 
and good policy4 ,he makes fancy the    
handmaid to reason in  her researches   
into science1 and penetrates the        
understanding through  the medium of the

 affections4 ,a secret charm pervades   
every part of his  works4 ,he rivets the
 attention by the strength of his       
observations1 and  relieves it by the   
variety of pleasing images with which he
 embellishes  his subject4 ,the         
perspicuity of his style1 and the       
equally easy and  eloquent turn of his  
periods1 give life and energy to his    
thoughts2 and1  while the reader feels  
his heart bounding with delight1 he     
finds his mind  impregnated with        
instruction4 ,these high advantages     
resulted entirely  from his having      
studied the world1 and gained an        
accurate knowledge  of mankind4 ,an     
author1 indeed1 may acquire an          
extraordinary fund of  knowledge in     
solitude2 but it is in society alone    
that he can learn how  to render it     
useful4 ,before he can instruct the     
world1 he must be enabled  to view its  
fooleries and vices with calm           
inspection2 to contemplate  them without
 anger1 as the unavoidable consequences 

of human infirmity2  to treat them with 
tenderness2 and to avoid exasperating   
the feelings of  those whose depravity  
he is attempting to correct4 ,a moral   
censor whose  disposition is kind and   
benevolent1 never suffers his superior  
virtue1  knowledge1 or talents1 however 
great they may be1 to offend the        
feelings  of others2 but1 like          
,socrates1 he will appear as if he were 
receiving  himself the instruction he is
 imparting4 ,it is a fine observation of
 the  celebrated ,goethe1 that kindness 
is the golden chain by which society  is
 bound together3 those who have had the 
happiness to converse with  that        
extraordinary man1 must have perceived  
the anxiety with which he  endeavors to 
temper the strength of his genius by the
 mildness and  amenity of his           
conversation4    ,men of letters1       
however awkward the habits of seclusion 
may have rendered  them1 would1 ,i am   
convinced1 be1 in general1 if not       
always1 treated with  great politeness  

and attention1 if they would be careful 
to treat others  with the common candor 
which humanity requires1 and with that  
indulgence  and affability which true   
liberality of sentiment will ever       
dictate2 but  how few1 alas6 are there  
who1 by complacency and condescension1  
entitle  themselves to the kindness and 
civility of which they stand so much in 
need1 and so arrogantly expect6 ,how is 
it possible for those who are           
vigilantly anxious to depress the rising
 merit of others1 ever to gain  their   
friendship or esteem8 ,friendship can   
only be acquired by an open1  sincere1  
liberal1 and manly conduct2 but he whose
 breast is filled with  envy and        
jealousy1 who cautiously examines1      
before he speaks1 every  sentiment and  
feeling1 lest his tongue should betray  
the meanness of his  heart1 and the     
poverty of his mind2 who seizes every   
light indiscretion1  or trifling error1 
that many inadvertently escape from his 
companions2  who silently repines at    

every excellency1 both moral and        
intellectual1  which they may discover2 
who1 even when surrounded by those who  
wish him  well1 continues with guarded  
circumspection1 and suspicious caution1 
to weigh the motives of their actions   
and conversation1 as if he were         
surrounded by the bitterest enemies1    
must be utterly incapable of  esteeming 
others1 or being esteemed himself2 and  
to suppose that the  generous flame of  
friendship1 that holy fire which1 under 
the deepest  adversity1 so comfortably  
warms and cheers the heart1 can ever    
spring  up from such cold materials1 and
 ashy embers1 would be extravagant and  
ridiculous4    ,the delight which the   
heart experiences in pouring forth the  
fulness  of its feelings1 with honest   
confidence1 into the bosom of a faithful
  friend1 is permanent and unbounded4   
,the pleasures which spring from  the   
acquisition of fame1 whether resulting  
from the generous voice of  an approving
 public1 or extorted from the reluctant 

tongues of envious  rivals and          
contemporaries1 will bear no comparison 
with those which  thrill through the    
exulting bosom of him who can justly    
exclaim1 8,to the  heart of this unhappy
 man ,i have given returning hopes1 and 
made him  look forward with confidence  
to the enjoyment of peace2 to his       
wounded  spirit ,i have imparted the    
balm of comfort and tranquillity2 and   
from  the bleeding bosom of my friend   
have driven despair60 ,but to perform   
such offices as these1 it is            
indispensably necessary that we should  
have  recommended ourselves to the      
confidence1 and have gained the         
affections  of those we intend to serve4
 ,this great and necessary property1    
however1  those who live secluded lives 
very seldom possess3 but1 much as they  
may  in general disdain to practise this
 high virtue1 it is necessary that  they
 should know that it tends more to      
ennoble the sentiments of the  mind1 and
 to raise the feelings of the heart1    

than their most successful  researches  
to discover something before unheard of 
in the regions of  science1 and which   
they pursue with as much avidity as if  
truth were  liable to decay1 unless     
sustained by the aid of novelty4    ,it 
is justly and beautifully said by one of
 the apocryphal writers1 that  a        
faithful friend is the medicine of life4
 ,a variety of occasions  happen1 when  
to pour forth the heart to one whom we  
love and trust1 is  the chief comfort1  
perhaps the only relief we can enjoy4   
,miserable is  he who1 shut up within   
the narrow inclosure of selfish         
interest1 has  no person to whom he can 
at all times1 with full confidence1     
expand  his soul4 ,but he who can only  
feel an affection for such as listen    
continually to the suggestions of       
vanity1 as applaud indiscriminately  the
 imaginary prodigies of his wit1 or     
never contradict the egotism of  his    
opinions1 is totally unfit for          
friendship1 and utterly unworthy  of    

respect4 ,it is men of learning and of  
retired habits1 who are most  likely to 
adopt this disengaging disposition4     
,there are1 ,i am sorry to  say it1 many
 men1 distinguished in the paths of     
science1 who affect to  possess the most
 refined sensibility1 and whose tongues 
are continually  proclaiming the virtues
 of benevolence1 but who1 when they are 
called  upon to practise those virtues  
in behalf of some distressed companion1 
turn a deaf ear to the appeal1 form some
 poor excuse for not interfering1  and1 
if pressed to come forward with some    
promised assistance1 deny to  afford it1
 because the unhappy sufferer has       
neglected to approve of  some           
extravagant conjecture1 or to adopt all 
the visionary notions and  ,utopian     
systems they may have framed4 ,he who   
neglects to perform the  common         
charities of life1 because his idle     
vanity may have been offended  by the   
neglect or indifference of his          
companions1 will never find1 and  cannot

 become1 a real friend4 ,there is also  
an inferior order of fops  in           
literature1 7if any order can be        
inferior to that which ,i have last     
described17 who carry with them1        
wherever they go1 a collection of their 
latest compositions1 and by             
importunately reading them to every one 
they  meet1 and expecting an unreserved 
approbation of their merits1 render     
themselves so unpleasantly troublesome  
on all occasions that1 instead of       
conciliating the least regard or esteem1
 their very approach is dreaded  as much
 as a pestilence or a famine4 ,every man
 of real genius will shun  this false   
ambition of gratifying vanity by forced 
applause2 because he  will immediately  
perceive1 that instead of gaining the   
hearts of his  auditors1 he only exposes
 himself to the ridicule1 and loses all 
chance  of their esteem4    ,the        
disadvantages1 however1 which studious  
characters have been described  to      
experience from habits of solitary      

seclusion1 and by neglecting the        
manners of society1 must not be         
indiscriminately applied4 ,it is the    
morose and surly pedant1 who sits       
silently in his solitary study1 and     
endeavors to enforce a character for    
genius in opposition to nature1 who     
adopts the mean and unworthy arts of    
jealousy1 suspicion1 and dishonest      
praise4 ,far different the calm1 happy1 
and honorable life of him who1  devoted 
to the cultivation of a strong          
understanding1 and the improvement  of a
 feeling heart1 is enabled1 by his      
application and genius1 to  direct the  
taste of the age by his liberality of   
spirit1 to look on his  equals without  
jealousy1 and his superiors with        
admiration2 and1 by his  benevolence1 to
 feel for the multitude he instructs1   
indulgence and  affection2 who1 relying 
on the real greatness of his temper1    
makes no  attempt to increase his       
importance by low raillery or unfounded 
satire2  whose firm temper never sinks  

into supine indolence1 or grovelling    
melancholy2 who only considers his      
profession as the means of meliorating  
mankind2 who perseveres in the cause of 
truth with cheerful rectitude1  and     
virtuous dignity2 whose intellectual    
resources satisfactorily supply  the    
absence of society2 whose capacious mind
 enables him to increase  his stores of 
useful knowledge2 whose discriminating  
powers enable him  to elucidate the     
subject he explores2 who feels as great 
a delight in  promoting the beneficial  
discoveries of others1 as in executing  
his own2  and who regards his           
professional contemporaries1 not as     
jealous rivals1  but as generous        
friends1 striving to emulate each other 
in the noble  pursuits of science1 and  
in the laudable task of endeavoring to  
improve  the morals of mankind4         
,characters of this description1 equally
 venerable and happy1 are numerous  in  
,europe1 both within and without the    
shades of academic bowers1  and afford  

examples which1 notwithstanding the     
tribe of errors and  absurdities        
solitude occasionally engenders1 should 
induce men of worldly  pleasures to     
repress the antipathies they are in     
general inclined to feel  against       
persons of studious and retired lives4  
,,chapter ,,iv4    ,the influence of    
solitude on the imagination4      ,the  
powers of imagination are great2 and the
 effects produced by them1  under       
certain circumstances1 upon the minds of
 men of warm and sensible  tempers1     
extraordinary and surprising4           
,multitudes have been induced by        
perturbed imaginations1 to abandon the  
gay and cheerful haunts of men1  and to 
seek1 in dreary desolation1 comfort and 
repose4 ,to such extremes  has this     
faculty1 when distorted1 hurried its    
unhappy subjects1 that they  have       
endured the severest mortification1     
denied themselves the common  benefits  
of nature1 exposed themselves to the    
keenest edge of winter's  cold1 and the 

most scorching rays of summer's heat1   
and indulged their  distempered fancies 
in the wildest chimeras4 ,these dreadful
 effects  appear1 on a first view1 to be
 owing to some supernatural cause1 and  
they  agitate our senses1 and confuse   
the understanding1 as phenomena beyond  
the comprehension of reason2 but the    
wonder vanishes when the cause is       
coolly and carefully explored2 and the  
extravagances are traced up to  their   
real source1 and natural organization of
 man4 ,the wild ideas of  the hermit    
,anthony1 who1 in his gloomy retreat1   
fancied that ,beelzebub  appeared to him
 in the form of a beautiful female to   
torture his  senses1 and disturb his    
repose1 originated in his natural       
character and  disposition4 ,his        
distempered fancy conjured up a fiend1  
which1 in fact1  existed in his         
unsubdued passions and incontinent      
desires4                  ''' ,from the 
enchanting cup      ,which fancy holds  
to all1 the unwary thirst      ,of youth

 oft swallows a ,circan draught1        
,that sheds a baleful tincture o'er the 
eye      ,of reason1 till no longer he  
discerns1      ,and only lives to err3  
then revel forth      ,a furious band1  
that spurn him from the throne1         
,and all is uproar4 ,hence the fevered  
heart      ,pants with delirious hope   
for tinsel charms4    ,solitude excites 
and strengthens the powers of the       
imagination to an  uncommon degree1 and 
thereby enfeebles the effect of the     
controlling  powers of reason4 ,the     
office of the latter faculty of the mind
 is1 to  examine with nice discernment  
and scrupulous attention1 to compare the
  several properties of thoughts and    
things with each other1 and to  acquire1
 by cool and deliberate investigation1  
correct ideas of their  combinations and
 effects4 ,the exercise of their power  
suspends the  vehemence of action1 and  
abates the ardor of desire2 but fancy   
performs  her airy excursions upon light
 and vagrant wings1 and flying around   

her objects without examination1        
embraces every pleasing image with      
increasing delight4 ,judgment separates 
and associates the ideas the  mind has  
gained by sensation and reflection1 and 
by determining their  agreement or      
disagreement1 searches after truth      
through the medium of  probability2 but 
the imagination employs itself in       
raising unsubstantial  images1 and      
portraying the form of things unknown in
 nature1 and foreign  to truth4 ,it has1
 indeed1 like memory1 the power of      
reviving in the mind  the ideas which1  
after having been imprinted there1 have 
disappeared2 but  it differs from that  
faculty by altering1 enlarging1         
diversifying1 and  frequently           
distorting1 the subjects of its power4  
,it bodies forth the form of things     
unknown1      ,and gives to airy        
nothings      ,a local habitation and a 
name4    ,but the irregular and wild    
desires which seize upon the mind       
through  the avenues of an untamed fancy

 and disordered imagination1 are not    
exclusively the produce of solitude4    
,the choice of wisdom or folly is       
offered to us in all places1 and under  
every circumstance2 but the  mind of man
 is unhappily prone to that which is    
least worthy of it4 ,i  shall therefore 
endeavor to show1 by some general       
observations1 in what  instances        
solitude is most likely to create those 
flights of imagination  which mislead   
the mind1 and corrupt the heart4        
,imagination is said to be the simple   
apprehension of corporeal objects  when 
they are absent2 which absence of the   
object it contemplates1  distinguishes  
this faculty from sensation1 and has    
occasioned some  metaphysicians to call 
it recorded sensation4 ,upon the due    
regulation1  and proper management1 of  
this great and extraordinary power of   
the mind1  depends1 in a great measure1 
the happiness or misery of life4 ,it    
ought  to consist of a happy combination
 of those ideas we receive through the  

organs of bodily sense1 and those which 
we derive from the faculties  of moral  
perception2 but it too frequently       
consists of a capricious  and ill-formed
 mixture of heterogeneous images1 which 
though true in  themselves1 are false in
 the way they are applied4 ,thus a      
person1 the  circulation of whose blood 
in any particular member is suddenly    
stopped1  imagines that needles are     
pricking the disordered part4 ,the      
sensation  in this case is real1 but the
 conclusion from it is fallacious4 ,so  
in  every mental illusion1 imagination1 
when she first begins to exercise  her  
powers1 seizes on some fact1 of the real
 nature of which the mind  has but an   
obscure idea1 and1 for want of tracing  
it through all its  connexions and      
dependences1 misleads reason into the   
darkest paths of  error4 ,the wild      
conjectures1 and extravagant opinions   
which have issued  from this source are 
innumerable4 ,the imagination receives  
every impulse  with eagerness1 while the

 passions crowd around her splendid     
throne1  obedient to her dictates4 ,they
 act1 indeed1 reciprocally on each      
other4  ,the imagination pours a        
concourse of contrary ideas into the    
mind1 and  easily disregards1 or        
reconciles their incongruities4 ,the    
voice of the  calm inquirer1 reason1 is 
incapable of being heard amidst the     
tumult2 and  the favorite image is      
animated and enlarged by the glowing    
fire of the  passions4 ,no power remains
 to control or regulate1 much less to   
subdue1  this mental ray1 which inflames
 the whole soul1 and exalts it into the 
fervor of enthusiasm1 hurries it into   
the extravagance of superstition3  or   
precipitates it into the furious        
frenzies of fanaticism4        ,the     
powerful tumult reigns in every part1   
,pants in the breast1 and swells the    
rising heart4    ,enthusiasm is that    
ecstacy of the mind1 that lively        
transport of the  soul1 which is excited
 by the pursuit or contemplation of some

 great  and noble object1 the novelty of
 which awakens attention1 the truth of  
which fixes the understanding1 and the  
grandeur of which1 by firing the  fancy1
 engages the aid of every passion1 and  
prompts the mind to the  highest        
undertakings4 ,a just and rightly formed
 enthusiasm is founded in  reason1 and  
supported by nature1 and carries the    
mind above its ordinary  level1 into the
 unexplored regions of art and science4 
,the rational  enthusiast1 indeed1 rises
 to an elevation so far above the       
distinct view  of vulgar eyes1 that     
common understandings are apt to treat  
him either  with blind admiration1 or   
cool contempt1 only because they are    
incapable  of comprehending his real    
character2 and while some bow to him as 
an  extraordinary genius1 others rail at
 him as an unhappy lunatic4 ,the  powers
 of enthusiasm1 however1 when founded   
upon proper principles1 so  strengthen  
and invigorate the faculties of the     
mind1 as to enable it  to resist danger 

undismayed1 and to surmount difficulties
 that appear  irresistible4 ,those1     
indeed1 who have possessed themselves of
 this power  to any extraordinary       
degree1 have been considered as         
inspired1 and  their great achievements 
conceived to have been directed by      
councils1  and sustained by energies of 
a divine or super-mundane nature4       
,certain  it is1 that we owe to the     
spirit of enthusiasm whatever is great  
in art1  sublime in science1 or noble in
 the human character3 and the elegant   
and  philosophic ,lord ,shaftsbury1     
while he ridicules the absurdities of   
this  wonderfully powerful and extensive
 quality1 admits that it is impossible  
to forbear ascribing to it whatever is  
greatly performed by heroes1  statesmen1
 poets1 orators1 and even philosophers  
themselves3 and who  that is not        
contented to wallow in the mire of gross
 sensuality1 would  not quit the noisy  
scenes of tumultuous dissipation1 and   
repair with  joy and gladness to        

solitary shades1 to the bower of        
tranquillity1 and  the fountain of      
peace1 to majestic forests1 and to      
verdant groves1 to  acquire this        
necessary ingredient to perfect         
excellence8 ,who would not  willingly   
pierce the pensive gloom1 or dwell among
 the brighter glories  of the golden    
age1 to acquire by a warm and glowing1  
but correct and  chaste contemplation of
 the beautiful and sublime works of     
nature1 these  ravishing sensations1 and
 gain this noble fervor of the          
imagination8 ,a  proper study of the    
works of nature amidst the romantic     
scenery of sylvan  solitude1 is         
certainly the most likely means of      
inspiring the mind with  true           
enthusiasm1 and leading genius to her   
most exalted heights2 but  the attempt  
is dangerous4 ,there are few men in     
whose minds airy notions  do not        
sometimes tyrannize4 8,to indulge the   
power of fiction10 says a  celebrated   
writer1 8and send imagination out upon  

the wing1 is often the  sport of those  
who delight too much in silent          
speculation4 ,when we are  alone1 we are
 not always busy2 the labor of          
excogitation is too violent  to last    
long2 the ardor of inquiry will         
sometimes give way to idleness  or      
satiety4 ,he who has nothing external   
that can divert him1 must find  pleasure
 in his own thoughts1 and must conceive 
himself what he is not2  for who is     
pleased with what he is8 ,he then       
expatiates in boundless  futurity1 and  
culls from all imaginable conditions    
that which for the  present moment he   
should most desire1 amuses his desires  
with impossible  enjoyments1 and confers
 upon his pride unattainable dominion4  
,the mind  dances from scene to scene1  
unites all pleasures in all             
combinations1  riots in delights which  
nature and fortune1 with all their      
bounty1 cannot  bestow4 ,in time some   
particular train of ideas fixes the     
attention2 all  other intellectual      

gratifications are rejected2 the mind in
 weariness or  leisure1 recurs          
constantly to the favorite conception1  
and feasts on the  luscious falsehood   
whenever she is offended with the       
bitterness of truth4  ,by degrees the   
reign of fancy is confirmed2 she grows  
first imperious1  and in time despotic3 
then fictions begin to operate as       
realities1 false  opinions fasten on the
 mind1 and life passes in dreams of     
rapture or of  anguish4 ,this is one of 
the dangers of solitude40    ,these     
observations lead us to consider the    
character of the fanatical  visionary1  
who feels1 like the happy enthusiast1   
the same agitation of  passion1 and the 
same inflammation of mind2 but as the   
feelings of one  are founded upon       
knowledge1 truth1 and nature1 so the    
feelings of the  other are the result of
 ignorance and error1 and all the       
glittering  meteors of his brain the    
effects of imposture and deception4 ,of 
this  species of enthusiasm ,mr4 ,locke 

gives the following description3 8,in   
all  ages men in whom melancholy has    
mixed with devotion1 or whose conceit   
of themselves has raised them into an   
opinion of a greater familiarity  with  
,god1 and a nearer admittance to his    
favors1 than is afforded to  others1    
have often flattered themselves with a  
persuasion of an immediate  intercourse 
with the ,deity1 and frequent           
communication with his divine  spirit4  
,their minds being thus prepared1       
whatever groundless opinion  comes to   
settle itself strongly upon their       
fancies1 is an illumination  from the   
,spirit of ,god1 and whatever odd action
 they find in themselves  a strong      
inclination to do1 that impulse is      
concluded to be a call or  direction    
from heaven1 and must be obeyed2 it is a
 commission from above1  and they cannot
 err in executing it4 ,this species of  
enthusiasm1 though  arising from the    
conceit of a warm and overweening brain1
 works1 when it  once gets footing1 more

 powerfully on the persuasions and      
actions of men  than either reason1     
revelation1 or both together2 men being 
forwardly  obedient to all the impulses 
they receive from themselves40 ,the     
fantastic  images1 indeed1 which the    
wildness of his imagination creates1    
subdues  his reason1 and destroys the   
best affections of his heart1 while his 
passions take the part of their furious 
assailants1 and render him the  victim  
of his visionary conceptions4 ,it is    
not1 however1 from sources of  fanatical
 devotion1 or irrational solitude1 that 
this vicious species of  enthusiasm     
alone arises4 ,the follies of faquiers1 
the extravagance of  orgaists1 the      
absurdities of hermits1 and the mummery 
of monks1 are not  more enthusiastically
 injurious to the true interests of     
mankind1 or more  pregnant with all the 
calamitous effects of this baleful vice1
 than those  unprincipled systems of    
politics and morals which have been of  
late years  obtruded on the world1 and  

in which good sense is sacrificed1 and  
true  science disgraced4    ,the growth 
of fanaticism1 whether moral1 political1
 religious1 or  scientific1 is not      
confined exclusively to any age or      
country2 the seeds  of it have been but 
too plentifully sown in all the regions 
of the earth2  and it is almost equally 
baneful and injurious in whatever soil  
they  spring4 ,every bold1 turbulent1   
and intriguing spirit1 who has          
sufficient  artifice to inflame the     
passions of the inconstant multitude1   
the moment  he calls the demon of       
fanatacism to his aid1 becomes          
troublesome1 and  frequently dangerous1 
to the government under which he lives4 
,even the  affectation of this powerful 
but pernicious quality1 is able to      
produce  fermentations1 highly          
detrimental to the peace of society4 ,in
 the very  metropolis of ,great         
,britain1 and among the enlightened     
inhabitants of  that kingdom1 ,lord     
,george ,gordon1 in the present age1 was

 enabled1 by  assuming the hypocritical 
appearance of piety1 and standing forth 
as  a champion of a religious sect1 to  
convulse the nation1 and endanger  its  
safety4 ,in the twenty-first year of the
 reign of his ,britannic  ,majesty1 the 
present powerful and illustrious ,king  
,george ,,iii4 an act  of parliament was
 passed to relieve the ,roman ,catholics
 residing in  ,england from the         
penalties and disabilities which had    
been imposed on  them at the revolution4
 ,an extension of the same relief to the
 ,catholics  of ,scotland was also said 
to be intended by parliament4 ,the      
report  spread an immediate alarm       
throughout the country2 societies were  
formed  for the defence of the          
,protestant faith2 committees appointed1
 books  dispersed1 and1 in short1 every 
method taken to inflame the zeal of the 
people4 ,these attempts being totally   
neglected by government1 and but  feebly
 resisted by the more liberal minded in 
the country1 produced all  their        

effects4 ,a furious spirit of bigotry   
and persecution soon showed  itself1 and
 broke out into the most outrageous acts
 of violence against  the ,papists at   
,edinburgh1 ,glasgow1 and elsewhere2 but
 as government did  not think it        
advisable to repress this spirit by     
force1 the just and  benevolent         
intentions of the legislature were laid 
aside4 ,the successful  resistance of   
the zealots in ,scotland to any         
relaxation of the penal  laws against   
the ,papists1 seems to have given the   
first rise to the  ,protestant          
,association in ,england2 for about the 
same time bills were  dispersed1 and    
advertisements inserted in the          
newspapers1 inviting those  who wished  
well to the cause to unite under that   
title2 and ,lord ,george  ,gordon1 who  
had been active at the head of the      
malcontents in ,scotland1  was chosen   
their ,president4 ,the ferment was      
suffered to increase during  a course of
 several years4 ,his lordship was a     

member of the senate1 and  his          
extraordinary conduct in the house1 and 
frequent interruption he gave  to the   
business of parliament1 as well as the  
unaccountable manner in  which he       
continually brought in and treated      
matters relative to religion  and the   
danger of popery1 and the caprice with  
which he divided the house  upon        
questions wherein he stood nearly or    
entirely alone1 were passed  over1 along
 with other singularities in his dress  
and manners1 rather as  subjects of     
pleasantry than of serious notice or    
reprehension4 ,on ,monday1  the #bith of
 ,may1 #aghj1 a meeting was held at     
,coachmaker's ,hall1 pursuant  to a     
public advertisement1 in order to       
consider of the mode of presenting  a   
petition to the ,house of ,commons4     
,lord ,george ,gordon took the chair2   
and1 after a long inflammatory harangue1
 in which he endeavoured to  persuade   
his hearers of the rapid and alarming   
progress that popery was  making in the 

kingdom1 he proceeded to observe1 that  
the only way to  stop it1 was going in a
 firm1 manly1 and resolute manner to the
 house  and showing their               
representatives that they were          
determined to preserve  their religious 
freedom with their lives2 that1 for his 
part1 he would  run all hazards with the
 people2 and if the people were too     
lukewarm to  run all hazards with him1  
when their conscience and their country 
called  them forth1 they might get      
another president1 for that he would    
tell them  candidly1 he was not a       
lukewarm man himself2 and that1 if they 
meant to  spend their time in mock      
debate1 and idle opposition1 they might 
get  another leader4 ,this speech was   
received with the loudest applause1 and 
his lordship then moved the following   
resolution3 8,that the whole body  of   
the ,protestant ,association do attend  
in ,st4 ,george's ,fields1 on ,friday   
next1 at ten o'clock in the morning1 to 
accompany their president to the  ,house

 of ,commons at the delivery of the     
,protestant petition20 which was        
carried unanimously4 ,his ,lordship then
 informed them1 that if less than       
twenty thousand of his fellow citizens  
attended him on that day1 he would  not 
present their petition4 ,accordingly1 on
 ,friday1 the #b;d day of ,june1  #aghj1
 at ten in the forenoon1 several        
thousands assembled at the place        
appointed1 marshalling themselves in    
ranks1 and waiting for their leader1    
who arrived about an hour afterward1 and
 they all proceeded to the houses  of   
parliament4 ,here they began to exercise
 the most arbitrary power over  both    
lords and commons1 by obliging almost   
all the members to put blue  cockades on
 their hats1 and call out 8no popery60  
,some they compelled  to take oaths to  
vote for the repeal of this obnoxious   
act2 others they  insulted in the most  
indecent and insolent manner4 ,they took
 possession  of all the avenues up to   
the very door of both houses of         

parliament1  which they twice attempted 
to force open1 and committed many       
outrages on  the persons of the members4
 ,nor were they dispersed1 or the       
remaining  members able to leave their  
seats1 until a military force arrived4  
,the  houses were adjourned to the #aith
 of ,june4 ,but so dreadful a spectacle 
of calamity and horror was never known  
in any age or country1 as that  which   
the metropolis of ,england exhibited on 
the evening and the day  which succeeded
 this seditious congregation4 ,these    
astonishing effects  produced by the    
real or pretended fanaticism of a simple
 individual1  sufficiently display the  
power of this dangerous quality1 when   
artfully  employed to inflame the       
passions of the unthinking multitude4   
,but it is  worthy of observation1 that 
while this incendiary sustained among   
his  followers the character of a pious 
patriot1 of a man without the smallest  
spot or blemish1 of being1 in short1 the
 most virtuous guardian of the          

established religion of the country1 he 
regularly indulged his holy  fervors1   
and sanctified appearances1 every       
evening1 in the company of  common      
prostitutes1 or professed wantons4      
,the fire of fanaticism is1 indeed1 so  
subtilely powerful1 that it is  capable 
of inflaming the coldest mind4 ,the     
mildest and the most rational           
dispositions have been occasionally     
injured by its heat4 ,the rapidity of   
its progress certainly depends1 in a    
great degree1 on the nature of the      
materials on which it acts2 but1 like   
every dangerous conflagration1 its      
first appearances should be watched1 and
 every means taken to extinguish  its   
flames4 ,the extinction is1 perhaps1    
most happily and readily effected  by   
those counteractions which the common   
occupations1 and daily duties  of life  
produce on the mind1 when judiciously   
opposed to this flagrant  evil4 ,of the 
advantages1 at least1 of this resource1 
a circumstance in  the history of the   

late ,dr4 ,fothergill affords a         
remarkable example4 ,this  celebrated   
physician possessed the greatest        
tranquillity of mind1 and  had obtained 
so complete a dominion over his         
passions1 that he declared  to a friend1
 recently before his death1 that he     
could not recollect a  single instance1 
during the whole course of his life1 in 
which they had  been improperly         
disturbed4 ,this temper1 which perfectly
 suited to the  character of the        
religion he professed1 the tenets of    
which he strictly  practised1 he        
maintained on all occasions2 nor was    
there any thing in his  general conduct 
or manner that betrayed to his most     
familiar friends the  least propensity  
toward enthusiasm2 and yet1 distant as  
the suspicion  must be1 under these     
circumstances1 that he should ever be   
under the  influence of superstition1 it
 is well known1 that while he was a     
student  at ,edinburgh1 where he was    
distinguished for the mildness of his   

manners  and the regularity of his      
conduct1 he one day1 in an eccentric    
sally  of fanaticism ran1 almost        
entirely naked through the streets of   
that  city1 warning all its inhabitants 
of the impending wrath of heaven2  and  
exhorting them in the most solemn       
manner1 to avert the approaching        
danger1 by humbly imploring the mercy of
 the offended ,deity2 but this          
religious paroxysm was of short         
duration4 ,he was at this time in habits
  of intimacy with the great characters 
who then filled the professional  chairs
 of the university1 and ardently engaged
 in the pursuits of study2  and the     
exercises which his daily tasks         
required1 together with the  company and
 conversation of these rational1        
well-informed1 and thinking  men1       
preserved his reason1 and soon restored 
him to the full and free  enjoyment of  
those faculties1 from which both science
 and humanity  afterward derived so many
 benefits4    ,the conduct of ,st4      

,francis1 commonly called the holy      
,francis of ,assisi1  was in some degree
 similar2 excepting that the madness of 
this fanatic  continued throughout his  
life1 while the delirium of ,fothergill 
lasted but a day4 ,this saint was born  
at ,assisi1 in the province of  ,umbria1
 in the year #aahb4 ,his real name of   
baptism was ,john2 but1 on  account of  
the facility with which he acquired the 
,french language1 so  necessary at that 
time in ,italy1 especially for the      
business for which  he was intended1 he 
was called ,francis4 ,he is said to have
 been born  with the figure of a cross  
on his right shoulder1 and to have      
dreamt  that he was designed by heaven  
to promote the interests of that holy   
sign4 ,his disposition was naturally    
mild1 his comprehension quick1  his     
feelings acute1 his manners easy1 his   
imagination vivid1 and his  passions    
inordinately warm4 ,a careless and      
unrestrained indulgence of the          
propensities of youth had led him into a

 variety of vicious habits and          
libertine extravagances1 until the      
solitude to which a fit of sickness     
confined him1 brought him to a          
recollection1 and forced him to reflect 
upon the dangerous tendency of his past 
misconduct4 ,his mind started with      
horror at the dreadful scene his        
retrospection presented to his view2    
and he resolved to quit the company of  
his former associates1 to reform  the   
profligacy of his life1 to restore his  
character1 and to save1 by  penitence   
and prayer1 his guilty soul4 ,these     
serious reflections wrought  so         
powerfully on his dejected mind1 that he
 fell into an extravagant  kind of      
devotion1 more resembling madness than  
religion4 ,fixing on a  passage in ,st4 
,matthew1 in which our ,saviour desires 
his apostles to  provide neither gold   
nor silver1 nor brass in their purses2  
nor scrip  for their journey2 neither   
two coats1 neither shoes1 nor yet       
staves1  he was led to consider a       

voluntary and absolute poverty as the   
essence  of the gospel1 and to prescribe
 this poverty as a sacred rule1 both to 
himself and to the few who followed him4
 ,he accordingly wandered through  the  
streets of ,assisi1 in garments that    
scarcely concealed his nakedness1  in   
order1 as he said1 to inure himself to  
the taunts and ridicule of  his former  
companions1 whom he now called the      
children of sin1 and  followers of      
satan4 ,the father of the young saint1  
supposing1 from these  extravagances1   
that the sickness under which he had so 
long labored had  disordered his        
intellects1 prepared to provide him with
 some proper  place of confinement1     
until time or medical regimen should    
restore him  to his right senses2 but   
the saint1 having been informed of his  
father's  friendly intention1 declined  
his parental care1 and quitting his     
house1  sought a sanctuary in the palace
 of the bishop of ,assisi4 ,the diocesan
  immediately sent to the father of the 

fugitive1 and1 after hearing him  upon  
the subject of his right to provide for 
the safety of his son1 he  turned calmly
 to the son and desired him to reply4   
,the son immediately  tore off the      
tattered garments which he then wore1   
and casting them with  scorn and        
indignation at the feet of his          
astonished parent exclaimed1  8there1   
take back all your property4 ,you were1 
indeed1 my earthly  father2 but         
henceforth ,i disclaim you2 for ,i own  
no father but him who  is in heaven40   
,the bishop1 either really or affectedly
 delighted with  this unnatural rant of 
the young enthusiast1 threw his own     
mantle over  the saint1 and exhorted him
 to persevere in his holy resolution1   
and  to cherish with increasing ardor1  
the divine inspiration of his pious     
mind4 ,the frantic youth1 animated by   
the warm approbation of the bishop      
proceeded in his religious course1 and  
abandoning the city1 retired  into the  
deepest gloom of an adjacent forest1 to 

indulge the fervors of  that false      
enthusiasm which had overpowered his    
brain4 ,in this retreat  a second vision
 confirmed him in his holy office2 and  
being encouraged  by pope ,innocent     
,,iii1 and ,honorius1 he established1 in
 the year #abji1  the ,order of ,saint  
,francis4 ,if this ridiculous enthusiast
 had corrected  the extravagances of his
 overheated imagination1 by a cool and  
temperate  exercise of his reason1 by   
studying1 like the celebrated physician 
we  have just mentioned1 some liberal   
science1 he might1 with the talents he  
possessed1 have become a really useful  
member of society4 ,but these wild      
shoots1 if suffered to grow to any      
height1 cannot afterward be easily      
eradicated3 and even ,fothergill1 if he 
had lived like ,francis1 in an age  of  
superstitious delusion1 and had been    
encouraged to believe the truth  of his 
fanatic conceptions1 his temporary      
frenzy might have continued  through    
life2 and his character1 instead of     

being revered as a promoter  of an      
useful science1 have been held up by an 
ignorant multitude to the  contempt and 
ridicule of posterity4    ,the vacancy  
of solitude1 by leaving the mind to its 
own ideas1 encourages  to a great excess
 these wild and eccentric sallies of the
 imagination4  ,he who has an           
opportunity to indulge1 without         
interruption or restraint  the          
delightful musings of an excursive      
fancy1 will soon lose all relish  for   
every other pleasure1 and neglect every 
employment which tends to  interrupt the
 gratification of such an enchanting    
though dangerous  propensity4 ,during   
the quietude of a sequestered life1     
imagination  usurps the throne of       
reason1 and all the feeble faculties of 
the mind  obey her dictates1 until her  
voice becomes despotic4 ,if the high    
powers  be exercised on the agreeable   
appearances of nature1 and the various  
entertainments1 poetry1 painting1 music1
 or any of the elegant arts1 are        

capable of affording1                '''
 ,then the inexpressive strain          
,diffuses its enchantment2 fancy dreams 
,of sacred fountains1 and elysian       
groves1      ,and vales of bliss2 the   
intellectual ,power      ,bends from his
 awful throne a wandering ear1      ,and
 smiles2 the passions1 gently smoothed  
away1      ,sink to divine repose1 and  
love and joy      ,alone are waking4    
,but if the mind1 as in the solitude of 
monastic seclusion1 fixes its  attention
 on ascetic subjects1 and fires the     
fancy with unnatural  legends1 the soul1
 instead of sinking to divine repose1   
feels a morbid  melancholy and          
discontented torpor1 which extinguishes 
all rational  reflection1 and engenders 
the most fantastic visions4    ,men even
 of strong natural understandings1      
highly improved by education1  have1 in 
some instances1 not been able to resist 
the fatal effects of  intense           
application1 and long continued         
solitude4 ,the learned ,molanus1        

having1 during a course of many years1  
detached his mind from all objects  of  
sense1 neglected all seasonable and     
salutary devotion1 and giving  an       
uncontrolled license to his imagination 
fancied1 in the latter part  of his     
life1 that he was a barley corn2 and    
although he received his  friends with  
great courtesy and politeness1 and      
conversed upon subjects  both of science
 and devotion with great ease and       
ingenuity1 he could  never afterward be 
persuaded to stir from home1 lest1 as he
 expressed his  apprehension1 he should 
be picked up in the street1 and         
swallowed by a  fowl4    ,the female    
mind is still more subject to these     
delusions of disordered  fancy2 for1 as 
their feelings are more exquisite1 their
 passions warmer1  and their            
imaginations more active than those of  
the other sex1 solitude1  when carried  
to excess1 affects them in a much       
greater degree4 ,their  bosoms are much 
more susceptible to the injurious       

influence of seclusion1  to the         
contagion of example1 and to the dangers
 of illusion4 ,this may1  perhaps1 in   
some degree1 account for the similarity 
of disposition which  prevails in       
cloisters1 and other institutions which 
confine women  entirely to the company  
of each other4 ,the force of example and
 habit is1  indeed1 in such retreats1   
surprisingly powerful4 ,a ,french       
medical writer1  of great merit1 and    
undoubted veracity1 relates1 that in a  
convent of  nuns1 where the sisterhood  
was unusually numerous1 one of those    
secluded  fair ones was seized with a   
strange impulse to mew like a cat2 that 
several others of the nuns in a short   
time followed her example2 and  that at 
length this unaccountable propensity    
became general throughout  the convent2 
the whole sisterhood joined1 at stated  
periods1 in the  practice of mewing1 and
 continued it for several hours4 ,but of
 all the  extraordinary fancies recorded
 of the sex1 none can exceed that which 

,cardan relates to have happened in one 
of the convents of ,germany1 during  the
 fifteenth century4 ,one of the nuns1   
who had long been secluded from  the    
sight of man1 was seized with the       
strange propensity to bite all her      
companions2 and extraordinary as it may 
seem1 this disposition spread  until the
 whole house was infected with the same 
fury4 ,the account1  indeed1 states1    
that this mania extended even beyond the
 walls of the  convent1 and that the    
disease was conveyed to such a degree   
from cloister  to cloister1 throughout  
,germany1 ,holland1 and ,italy1 that the
 practice at  length prevailed in every 
female convent in ,europe4    ,the      
instances of the pernicious influence of
 a total dereliction of  society1 may   
possibly appear to the understandings of
 the present  generation extravagant and
 incredible2 but they are certainly     
true2 and  many others of a similar     
nature might be adduced from the most   
authentic  histories of the times4 ,the 

species1 when prevented from enjoying a 
free  intercourse and rational society  
with each other1 almost change their    
nature2 and the mind1 feeding           
continually on the melancholy musings   
of the imagination1 in the cold and     
cheerless regions of solitude1          
engenders humors of the most eccentric  
cast4 ,excluded from those social       
communications which nature enjoins1    
with the means of gratifying the        
understanding1 amusing the senses1 or   
interesting the affections1 fancy  roves
 at large into unknown spheres1 and     
endeavors to find in ideal forms        
entertainment and delight4 ,angelic     
visions1 infernal phantoms1 amazing     
prodigies1 the delusions of alchemy1 the
 frenzies of philosophy1 and the        
madness of metaphysics1 fill the        
disordered brain4 ,the intellect fastens
  upon some absurd idea1 and fosters it 
with the fondest affection1  until its  
increasing magnitude subdues the        
remaining powers of sense  and reason4  

,the slightest retrospect into the      
conduct of the solitary  professors of  
every religious system1 proves the      
lamentable dangers to  which they expose
 their mental faculties1 by excluding   
themselves from  the intercourse of     
rational society4 ,from the prolific    
womb of solitude  sprung all the        
mysterious ravings and senseless        
doctrines of the ,new  ,platonists4 ,the
 same cause devoted the monks and       
anchorites of the  ,christian church to 
folly and fanaticism4 ,fakirs1 ,bramins1
 and every  other tribe of religious    
enthusiasts1 originated from the same   
source4  ,by abandoning the pleasures of
 society1 and renouncing the feelings   
of nature1 they sacrificed reason upon  
the altar of superstition1 and  supplied
 its place with ecstatic fancies1 and   
melancholy musings4 ,there  is nothing  
more evident1 than that our holy        
religion1 in its original  constitution1
 was set so far apart from all refined  
speculations1 that it  seemed in a      

manner diametrically opposite to them4  
,the great founder of  ,christianity    
gave one simple rule of life to all men2
 but his disciples1  anxious to indulge 
the natural vanity of the human mind1   
and misled1 in  some degree1 by the     
false philosophy which at that period   
overspread the  heathen world1          
introduced various doctrines of         
salvation1 and new schemes  of faith4   
,bigotry1 a species of superstition     
never known before1 took  place in men's
 affections1 and armed them with new    
jealousies against  each other3         
barbarous terms and idioms were every   
day invented2 monstrous  definitions    
imposed1 and hostilities1 the fiercest  
imaginable1 exercised  on each other by 
the contending parties4 ,fanaticism1    
with all the  train of visions1         
prophecies1 dreams1 charms1 miracles1   
and exorcises1  succeeded2 and spiritual
 feats1 of the most absurd and          
ridiculous nature1  were performed in   
monasteries1 or up and down1 by their   

mendicant or  itinerant priests and     
ghostly missionaries4 ,solitude         
impressed the  principles upon which    
these extravagances were founded1 with  
uncommon  force on the imagination2 and 
the mind1 working itself into holy      
fervors  and inspirations1 give birth to
 new extravagances4 ,the causes which   
operated on the minds of men to produce 
such ridiculous effects1 acted  with    
double force on the ardent temper1 warm 
imagination1 and excessive  sensibility 
of the female world4 ,that which was    
mere fantasy with the  one sex1 became  
frenzy with the other4 ,women1 indeed1  
are1 according  to the opinion of       
,plato1 the nurses of fanaticism2 and   
their favorite  theme is that which has 
been dignified by the appellation of a  
sublime  passion for poetry3 an ardent1 
refined love of heaven2 but which1 in   
fact1 is only the natural effects of the
 heart1 swollen intumescently  by an    
unreined1 prolific1 and too ardent      
imagination4 ,instances of this  kind   

are discoverable in all the accounts    
that have been published of the  holy   
fervors of these penitents1 particularly
 in those of ,catherine of  ,sienna1 of 
,joan of ,cambray1 of ,angelina of      
,foligny1 of ,matilda of ,saxony1  of   
,maria of the ,incarnation1 of ,mary    
,magdalen of ,pazzio1 of ,gertrude of   
,saxony1 and many others4 ,the          
celebrated ,armelle1 who was born in the
 year  #afjf1 at ,campenac1 in the      
diocese of ,st4 ,malo1 and who died at  
,vannes in  the year #afga1 possessed   
great personal beauty1 a quick and      
lively mind1  and an uncommon tenderness
 of heart4 ,her parents1 who were honest
 and  industrious villagers1 placed her 
as a menial servant in the house of  a  
neighboring gentleman1 with whom she    
lived for five and thirty years  in the 
practice of the most exemplary piety and
 extraordinary virtue1  at least1       
according to the accounts which he gave 
from time to time of  her conduct4      
,during the time she resided with this  

gentleman1 his groom1  finding the      
kitchen door fastened1 had the curiosity
 to peep through the  key-hole1 where he
 discovered the pious maid1 in a        
paroxysm of divine  ecstacy1 performing 
the humble office of spitting a capon4  
,the agitation  of this holy spirit so  
affected the mind of the astonished     
youth1 that1  it is said by the         
,ursuline sister who has written the    
life of this great  luminary of ,french 
sanctity1 under the title of ,the school
 for the love  of ,god1 he became       
immediately enamored with the beauties  
of religion1  and renouncing the pomps  
and vanities of the world1 entered into 
a  monastery1 at the same time that his 
holy companion thought proper to        
withdraw from future observation into   
the convent of ,vannes1 where she       
devoted the remainder of her life1 and  
died1 as it is reported1 in an  excess  
of divine love4 ,the youthful days of   
,armelle had been passed in  almost     
total solitude2 for her occupation at   

the house in which she was  placed by   
her parents1 was confined entirely to   
the kitchen1 and she  had scarcely any  
other intercourse than with its         
furniture4 ,it appears1  however1 from  
the history of her life1 that she was   
from her childhood  excessively fond of 
reciting an ave or paternoster2 and     
while  occupied in tending the flocks1  
her original employment1 amused herself 
in telling her rosary2 8by which means10
 says the ,ursuline sister1 8she  made1 
even in her pastoral state of simplicity
 and ignorance1 such great  advances in 
divine love that1 the first moment she  
was allowed to pay her  adoration to the
 crucifix the fervency of her pious     
passion burst forth  with such ecstacy1 
that she eagerly snatched the holy      
object to her arms1  and embraced it    
with a transport so warmly affectionate1
 that streams of  tenderness rushed from
 her eyes40    ,it is truly said by a   
celebrated ,english writer1 to be 8of   
the utmost  importance to guard against 

extremes of every kind in religion4 ,we 
must  beware lest by seeking to avoid   
one rock we split upon another4 ,it has 
been long the subject of remark1 that   
superstition and enthusiasm are two     
capital sources of delusion3            
superstition1 on the one hand1 attaching
  men with immoderate zeal to the ritual
 and external points of religion2  and  
enthusiasm1 on the other1 directing     
their whole attention to  internal      
emotions and mystical communications    
with the spiritual world2  while neither
 the one nor the other had paid         
sufficient regard to the  great moral   
duties of the ,christian life4 ,but     
running with intemperate  eagerness from
 these two great abuses of religion1 men
 have neglected  to observe that there  
are extremes opposite to each of them1  
into which  they are in hazard of       
precipitating themselves4 ,thus the     
horror of  superstition has sometimes   
reached so far as to produce contempt   
for all  external institutions2 as if it

 were possible for religion to subsist  
in  the world without forms of worship1 
or public acknowledgment of ,god4 ,it   
has also happened1 that some1 who1 in   
the main are well affected to the  cause
 of goodness1 observing that persons of 
a devout turn have at times  been       
carried away by warm affections into    
unjustifiable excesses1 have  thence    
hastily concluded that all devotion was 
akin to enthusiasm2 and  separating     
religion totally from the heart and     
affections1 have reduced  it to a frigid
 observance of what they call the rules 
of virtue40 ,these  extremes are to be  
carefully avoided4 ,true devotion is    
rational and well  founded2 and consists
 in the lively exercise of that         
affection which we  owe to the ,supreme 
,being1 comprehending several emotions  
of the heart1  which all terminate in   
the same great object4    ,these are    
among the evils which an irrational     
solitude is capable of  producing upon  
an unrestrained and misdirected         

imagination2 but ,i do  not mean to     
contend indiscriminately1 that solitude 
is generally to be  considered as       
dangerous to the free indulgence of this
 delightful faculty  of the mind4       
,solitude1 well chosen1 and rationally  
pursued1 is so far  from being either   
the open enemy1 or the treacherous      
friend of a firm  and fine imagination1 
that it ripens its earliest shoots1     
strengthens  their growth1 and          
contributes to the production of its    
richest and most  valuable fruits4 ,to  
him who has acquired the happy art of   
enjoying in  solitude the charms of     
nature1 and of indulging the powers of  
fancy  without impairing the faculty of 
reason              ''' ,whate'er adorns
      ,the princely dome1 the column1   
and the arch1      ,the breathing       
marble1 and the sculptured gold1        
,beyond the proud possessor's narrow    
claim1      ,his happy breast enjoys4   
,for him the spring      ,distils her   
dews1 and from the silken gem      ,its 

lucid leaves unfolds3 for him the hand  
,of autumn tinges every fertile branch  
,with blooming gold1 and blushes like   
the morn4      ,each passing hour sheds 
tribute from her wings2      ,and still 
new beauties meet his lonely walk1      
,and loves unfelt attract him4 ,not a   
breeze      ,flies o'er the meadow2 not 
a cloud imbibes      ,the setting sun's 
effulgence2 not a strain      ,from all 
the tenants of the warbling shade       
,ascends1 but whence his bosom can      
partake      ,fresh pleasure1           
unreproved4 ,nor thence partake         
,fresh pleasure only3 for the attentive 
mind1      ,by this harmonious action on
 her powers1      ,becomes herself      
harmonious4          ,,chapter ,v4      
,the effects of solitude on a melancholy
 mind4      ,a disposition to enjoy the 
silence of sequestered solitude1 and a  
glowing  distaste of the noisy tumults  
of public life1 are the earliest and    
most  general symptoms of approaching   
melancholy4 ,the heart1 on which        

felicity  was used to sit enthroned1    
becomes senseless to the touch of       
pleasure2  the airy wing of high delight
 sinks prostrate to the earth on broken 
pinions3 and care and anxiety1 chagrin1 
and regret1 load the mind with          
distempering ideas1 and render it       
cheerless and forlorn4 ,the dawning sun1
  and heaven lighted day1 give no       
pleasure to the sickened senses of the  
unhappy sufferer4 ,his only pleasure is 
to 8commune with his own griefs20  and  
for this purpose he seeks some gloomy   
glen1        8,where bitter boding      
melancholy reigns      ,o'er heavy sighs
 and care disordered thoughts40    ,but 
a mind thus disposed1 however it may for
 a time console its sorrows1  by        
retiring from the world1 thereby becomes
 more weak and helpless4  ,solitude in  
such cases1 increases the disorder1     
while it softens its  effects4 ,to      
eradicate the seeds of this dreadful    
malady1 the imagination  should be      
impressed with some new1 contrary1 and  

more powerful bias than  that which     
sways the mind1 which can only be turned
 from its course of  thought by shifting
 the object of its reflection1 and      
giving entrance to  new desires4 ,a     
melancholy mind therefore1 should be    
weaned by degrees  from its disposition 
to solitude1 should be agreeably        
interrupted in its  musings1 and be     
induced to relish the varying pleasures 
of the world4  ,but1 above all1 those   
scenes and subjects which have any      
connexion1  however remotely1 with the  
cause of the complaint1 must be         
cautiously  avoided4 ,the seeds of this 
dreadful malady are1 in general1 very   
deeply  planted in the constitution of  
the patient1 however accidental the     
circumstances may be when relieved from 
its oppression1 is1 if left  to itself1 
always in danger of relapsing into its  
former habit4 ,this  circumstance alone 
is sufficient to show how unfriendly    
solitude must be  to the cure of this   
complaint4 ,if1 indeed1 the patient be  

so far gone  as to leave no hope of     
recovery2 if his desponding heart be    
incapable  of any new impression2 if his
 mind forgoes all custom of mirth2 if he
  refuse to partake of any healthful    
exercise or agreeable recreation3  and  
the soul sinks day after day into deeper
 dejection1 and threatens  nature with  
madness or with death1 solitude is the  
only resource4 ,when  melancholy seizes1
 to a certain degree1 the mind of an    
,englishman1 it  almost uniformly leads 
him to put a period to his existence2   
while  the worst effect it produces on a
 ,frenchman1 is to induce him to turn   
,carthusian4 ,such dissimilar effects1  
proceeding from the operation of  the   
same cause1 in different persons1 can   
only be accounted for from the  greater 
opportunities which there is in ,france 
than in ,england to hide  the sorrows of
 the mind from the inspection of the    
world4 ,an ,english  hypochondriac      
would1 perhaps1 seldom destroy himself1 
if there were in  ,england any monastic 

institution to which he could fly from  
the eye of  public observation4    ,the 
mind1 in proportion as it loses its     
proper tone1 and natural  elasticity1   
decreases in its attachments to society1
 and wishes to recede  from the world   
and its concerns4 ,there is no disorder 
of the mind1 among  all the various     
causes by which it may be affected1 that
 destroys its  force and activity so    
entirely as melancholy4 ,it unties1 as  
it were1  all the relations1 both       
physical and moral1 of which society1 in
 its  most perfect state1 consists1 and 
sets the soul free from all sense of    
obligation4 ,the private link which     
unites the species is destroyed2  all   
inclination to the common intercourse of
 life is lost2 and the  only remaining  
disposition is for solitude4 ,it is for 
this reason that  melancholy persons are
 continually advised to frequent the    
theatres1  masquerades1 operas1 balls1  
and other places of public diversion2 to
  amuse themselves at home with cards1  

dice1 or other games2 or to infuse  from
 the eyes of female beauty new life into
 their drooping souls4  ,certain it is1 
that great advantages may be derived by 
detaching the  mind from those objects  
by which it is tortured and consumed2   
but to run  indiscriminately1 and with  
injudicious eagerness1 into the pursuit 
of  pleasures1 without any              
predisposition to enjoy them1 may rather
 tend to  augment than diminish the     
disease4    ,the eye of melancholy views
 every object on its darkest and most   
unfavorable side1 and apprehends        
disastrous consequences from every      
occurrence4 ,these gloomy perceptions1  
which increase as the feelings  become  
more indolent1 and the constitution more
 morbid1 bring on habitual  uneasiness  
and chagrin upon the mind1 and render   
every injury1 however  small and        
trifling it may be1 irksome and         
insupportable4 ,a settled  dejection    
ensues2 and the miserable patient avoids
 every scene in which  his musings may  

be liable to interruption2 the few      
enjoyments he is yet  capable of feeling
 in any degree impeded2 or which may    
call upon him to  make the slightest    
exertion2 and by withdrawing himself    
from society  into solitude1 neglects   
the exercises and recreations by which  
his  disease might be relieved4 ,instead
 of endeavoring to enlighten the dark   
gloom which involves his mind1 and      
subdues his soul1 by regarding with  a  
favorable eye all that gives a true     
value and high relish to men of  sound  
minds and lively dispositions1 he fondly
 follows the phantom which  misleads    
him1 and thereby sinks himself more     
deeply into the moody fanes  of         
irremediable melancholy3 and if the     
bright rays of life and happiness       
penetrate by chance into the obscurity  
of his retreat instead of feeling  any  
satisfaction from the perception of     
cheerfulness and content1 he  quarrels  
with the possessor of them1 and converts
 their enjoyments into  subjects of     

grievance1 in order to torment himself4 
,unfavorable1 however1 as a dreary and  
disconsolate solitude certainly  is to  
the recovery of a mind labouring under  
this grievous affliction1  it is far    
preferable to the society of licentious 
companions1 and to  wild scenes of      
inebriating dissipation4 ,worldly       
pleasures1 and sensual  gratifications  
of every description1 when intemperately
 pursued1 only  drive a melancholy mind 
into a more abject state of dejection4  
,it is from  rational recreation1 and   
temperate pleasures alone1 that an      
afflicted  mind can receive amusement   
and delight4 ,the only scenes by which  
the  mudded current of his mind can be  
cleared1 or his stagnated system of     
pleasure refreshed1 must be calm1       
cheerful1 and temperate1 not gay4       
,melancholy is of a sedate and pensive  
character1 and flies from whatever  is  
hurrying and tumultuous4 ,how frequently
 do men of contemplative  dispositions  
conceive a distaste for the world1 only 

because they have  unthinkingly engaged 
so ardently in the pursuits of pleasure1
 or of  business1 that they have been   
prevented for a length of time1 from    
collecting their scattered ideas1 and   
indulging their natural habits of       
reflection6 ,but in striving to reclaim 
a melancholy mind1 it is necessary  to  
attend to the feelings of the heart1 as 
well as the peculiar temper  of the     
mind4 ,a gloomy1 disturbed1 unquiet     
mind1 is highly irritated1 and  its     
disease of course increased1 by the     
company and conversation of those  whose
 senseless bosoms are incapable of      
feeling the griefs it endures1  or the  
complaints it utters4 ,this1 indeed1 is 
another cause which drives  melancholy  
persons from society into solitude2 for 
how few are there  whose tenderness     
leads them to sympathize with a brother 
in distress1  or to contribute a kind   
aid to eradicate the thorns which rankle
 in  his heart6 ,robust characters1 in  
whose bosoms nature has planted the     

impenetrable shield of unvarying health1
 as well as those whose minds are       
engrossed by the charms of uninterrupted
 prosperity1 can form no idea  of the   
secret but severe agonies which shake   
the system of valetudinary  men3 nor    
feel any compassion for the tortures    
which accompany a  wounded and afflicted
 spirit1 until the convulsive frame     
proclaims the  dreadful malady1 or      
increasing melancholy sacrifices its    
victim on the  altar of                 
self-destruction4 ,the gay associates of
 the unfeeling world  view a companion  
suffering under the worst of nature's   
evils1 with  cold indifference1 or      
affected concern2 or1 in the career of  
pleasure1  overlook the miseries he     
feels until they hear that exhausted wo 
has  induced him to brave the anger of  
the ,almighty1 and to rush from mortal  
misery1 uncalled1 into the awful        
presence of his ,creator4 ,dreadful     
state6  ,the secrecy and silence1       
indeed1 with which persons of this      

description  conceal the pangs that     
torture their minds1 is among the most  
dangerous  symptoms of the disease4 ,it 
is not1 indeed1 easy to hide from the   
anxious  and attentive eye of real      
friendship the feelings of the heart2   
but to  the careless and indifferent    
multitude of common acquaintances1 the  
countenance may wear the appearance not 
only of composure1 but even of  gayety1 
while the soul is inwardly suffering the
 keenest anguish of  unutterable wo4    
,the celebrated ,carlini1 a ,french     
actor of great merit1  and in high      
reputation with the public1 for the     
life1 whim1 frolic1  and vivacity with  
which he nightly entertained the        
,parisian audiences1  applied to a      
physician to whom he was not personally 
known1 for advice1  and represented to  
him that he was subject to attacks of   
the deepest  melancholy4 ,the physician 
advised him to amuse his mind by scenes 
of  pleasure1 and particularly directed 
him to frequent the ,italian ,comedy2   

8for10 continued he1 8your distemper    
must be rooted1 indeed1 if the  acting  
of the lively ,carlini does not remove  
it40 8,alas60 exclaimed the  unhappy    
patient1 8,i am the very ,carlini whom  
you recommend me to see2 and  while ,i  
am capable of filling ,paris with mirth 
and laughter1 ,i am myself  the dejected
 victim of melancholy and chagrin40     
,painful as it may be to a person who is
 laboring under the oppression of       
melancholy1 to associate with those who 
are incapable of sympathizing  with his 
feelings1 or who neglect to             
compassionate his sufferings1 yet  he   
should not fly from the presence of men 
into solitude2 for solitude  will       
unavoidably aggravate and augment his   
distress inasmuch as it tends  to       
encourage that musing and soliloquy to  
which melancholy is invariably  prone4  
,it is the most dangerous resource to   
which he can fly2 for1 while  it seems  
to promise the fairest hope of relief1  
it betrays the confidence  reposed in   

it2 and instead of shielding its votary 
from that conflict  which disturbs his  
repose1 it renders him defenceless1 and 
delivers him  unarmed to his bitterest  
enemy4    ,the boldest spirits and      
firmest nerves cannot withstand the     
inroads of  melancholy merely by their  
own strength4 ,it damps the courage of  
the  most enterprising mind1 and makes  
him who was before upon all occasions1  
fearless and unawed1 shrink even from   
the presence of his fellow  creatures4  
,company of every description becomes   
displeasing to him2 he  dreads the idea 
of visiting2 and if he is induced to    
quit the domestic  solitude into which  
he retires1 it is only when the         
glorious1 but to him  offensive1 light  
of heaven is concealed in congenial     
darkness2 and the  shades of night hide 
him from the observation of man4 ,an    
invitation to  social entertainment     
alarms his mind2 the visit even of a    
friend becomes  painful to his feelings2
 and he detests every thing which       

lightens the  gloom in which he wishes  
to live1 or which tends to disturb his  
privacy1  or remove him from his        
retreat4    ,rousseau1 toward the latter
 part of his life1 abandoned all        
intercourse  with society under a       
notion1 which was the effect of his     
melancholy  disposition1 that the world 
had conceived an unconquerable antipathy
  against him2 and that his former      
friends1 particularly ,hume1 and some   
philosophers in ,france1 not only had   
entered into confederacy to  destroy his
 glory and repose1 but to take away his 
life4 ,on departing  from ,england1 he  
passed through ,amiens1 where he met    
with ,gresset1  who interrogated him    
about his misfortunes1 and the          
controversies in  which he had been     
engaged2 but ,rousseau only answered1   
8,you have got  the art of making a     
parrot speak1 but you are not yet       
possessed of the  secret of giving      
language to a bear30 and when the       
magistrates of the  city wished to      

confer on him some marks of their       
esteem1 he refused  all their offers1   
and considered these flattering         
civilities like the  insults which were 
lavished in the same form on the        
celebrated ,sancho  in the island of    
,barataria4 ,to such extent1 indeed1 did
 his disordered  imagination carry him1 
that he thought one part of the people  
looked upon  him like ,lazarillo de     
,tormes1 who being fixed to the bottom  
of a tub1  with only his head out of    
water1 was carried from one town to     
another to  amuse the vulgar4 ,his bad  
health1 a strong and melancholy         
imagination1  a too nice sensibility1 a 
jealous disposition1 joined with        
philosophic  vanity1 and his uncommon   
devotion to solitude1 tended to         
prepossess  him with those wrong and    
whimsical ideas4 ,but it must be        
confessed that  the opposition he met   
with from different ranks of persons1 at
 several  periods of his life1 was      
extremely severe4 ,he was driven at one 

time  from ,france1 in which he had     
before been distinguished by his        
writings1  and highly honored4 ,at      
another time he was chased from ,geneva1
 the  place of his nativity1 and of his 
warmest affection4 ,he was exiled from  
,berne with disgrace2 expelled1 with    
some appearance of injustice1 from      
,neufchatel2 and even banished from his 
tranquil solitude on the borders  of the
 lake of ,bienne4 ,his disposition      
therefore to avoid society1 must  not be
 entirely attributed to his melancholy  
disposition2 nor his love  of solitude  
to a misanthropic mind4 ,every acute and
 scientific observer  of the life and   
character of this extraordinary man will
 immediately  perceive that the seeds of
 that melancholy disposition1 and       
fretful  temper1 which through life     
destroyed his repose1 were sown by      
nature in  his constitution4 ,he        
confesses indeed1 to use his own words1 
that 8a  proud misanthropy1 and peculiar
 contempt for the riches and pleasures  

of  the world1 constituted the chief    
traits of his character40 ,this proud   
spirit and contemptuous mind were mixed 
with an extreme sensibility of  heart1  
and an excessive indolence of           
disposition2 and his body1 which  was   
naturally feeble1 suffered1 from ill    
health1 the keenest agonies1  and most  
excruciating disorders1 to which the    
human frame is incident4  ,persecution  
also had levelled the most pointed and  
severely barbed shafts  against him2 and
 he was forced to endure1 amidst the    
pangs of poverty1  and the sorrows of   
sickness1 all that envy1 hatred1 and    
malice1 could  inflict4 ,it has been    
said1 that the persecutions he          
experienced were not  so much excited by
 the new dogmas1 or eccentric paradoxes1
 which1 both  on politics and religion1 
pervade all his writings1 as by the     
refinement  of his extraordinary        
talents1 the wonderful splendor of his  
eloquence1  and the increasing extent of
 his fame4 ,his adversaries certainly   

pursued  him1 not only with bigotry and 
intolerance1 but with an inconsistency  
which revealed1 in a great degree1 the  
secret motives by which they were       
actuated2 for they condemned1 with the  
sharpest virulence1 the freedom  of his 
religious tenets1 even in places where  
the religious creed of  ,voltaire was   
held in the highest admiration1 and     
where atheism had  collected the most   
learned advocates1 and displayed the    
very standard  of infidelity and        
disbelief4 ,harassed by the frowns of   
fortune1 and  pursued with unrelenting  
enmity by men whose sympathy and        
kindness he  had anxiously endeavored to
 obtain1 it is scarcely surprising that 
the  cheerfulness of his disposition1   
and the kindness of his heart1 should be
  subdued by those sentiments of        
aversion and antipathy which he fancied 
most of his intimates entertained       
against him3 and the invectives  from   
the pen of his former friend and        
confidant1 ,voltaire1 together  with    

many others that might be adduced1      
particularly the letter which  was      
fabricated in the name of the king of   
,prussia1 for the purpose of  exposing  
him to ridicule1 prove that his         
suspicions on the subject were  not     
unfounded4 ,the voice1 indeed of        
mankind1 seems ready to exclaim that    
this eccentric philosopher was not only 
a misanthrope1 but a madman2  but those 
who are charitably disposed1 will       
recollect that he was a  martyr to ill  
health2 that nature had bestowed upon   
him a discontented  mind2 that his      
nerves were in a continued state of     
irritation2 and that  to preserve       
equanimity of temper when goaded by the 
shafts of calumny  and malice1 requires 
such an extraordinary degree of         
fortitude and  passive courage as few   
individuals are found to possess4 ,his  
faults are  remembered1 while the       
wonderful bloom and uncommon vigor of   
his genius1  are forgotten or concealed4
 ,the production from which his merits  

are in  general estimated1 is that which
 is called 8,the ,confessions30 a work  
written under the pressure of calamity1 
in sickness and in sorrow2 amidst       
fears1 distresses1 and sufferings2 when 
the infirmities which accompany  old    
age1 and the debility which attends     
continued ill health1 had injured  the  
tone of his mind1 overpowered his       
reason1 and perverted his feelings  to  
such a degree1 as to create an almost   
total transformation of the  character  
of the man1 and deprive him of his      
identity3 but this degrading  work      
ought1 in candor1 to be considered as a 
deplorable instance of the  weakness of 
human nature1 and how unable it is to   
support its own dignity  when attacked  
by the adversities of fortune1 and the  
malice of mankind4  ,the greatness of   
,rousseau ought to be erected on a      
different basis3 for  his earliest works
 are certainly sufficient to support the
 extent of his  fame as an author1      
however they may1 on particular         

subjects1 expose his  integrity as a    
man4    ,the anxieties which a vehemence
 of imagination1 and a tender texture of
  the nervous system at all times       
produce1 are highly injurious to the    
faculties of the mind2 and1 when        
accompanied by sickness or by sorrow1   
wear out the intellect in proportion to 
its vigor and activity4 ,to use  the    
popular metaphor upon this subject1     
8,the sword becomes too sharp for  the  
scabbard20 and the body and the mind are
 thereby exposed to mutual  destruction4
    ,religious melancholy is1 of all    
other descriptions of this dreadful     
disease1 most heightened and aggravated 
by solitude4 ,the dreadful idea  of     
having irretrievably lost the divine    
favor1 and of being an object  unworthy 
of the intercession of our ,saviour1    
incessantly haunts the mind1  laboring  
under religious despondency2 and the    
imagination being left1 in  solitude1   
entirely to its own workings1 increases 
the horrors which such  thoughts must   

unavoidably inspire4        ,her lash   
,tisiphone that moment shakes1      ,the
 mind she scourges with a thousand      
snakes1      ,and to her aid1 with many 
a thundering yell2      ,calls her dire 
sisters from the gulf of hell6    ,these
 mutual tortures1 even when heightened  
by the gloominess of  solitude1 are     
frequently still further increased by   
the mischievous  doctrines of bigoted   
priests1 who by mistaking the effects of
 nervous  derangement1 or theological   
errors1 for the compunctious visitings  
of  a guilty mind1 establish and mature1
 by the injudicious application of      
scriptural texts1 and precepts of       
casuistry1 the very disease which they  
thus ignorantly and presumptuously      
endeavor to remove4 ,the wound1 thus    
tainted by the most virulent and        
corrosive of the intellectual poisons1  
becomes extremely difficult to cure4    
,the pure and uncontaminated tenets  of 
the ,christian faith furnishes1 perhaps1
 the surest antidotes2 and  when these  

balms of true comfort are infused by    
such enlightened and  discerning minds  
as ,luther1 ,tillotson1 and ,clark1 the 
most rational hope  may be entertained  
of a speedy recovery4 ,the writings of  
those holy  teachers confirm the truth  
of the observation1 that the deleterious
 gloom  of superstition assumes a darker
 aspect in the shades of retirement1 and
  they uniformly exhort the unhappy     
victims of this religious error to      
avoid solitude as the most certain enemy
 of this dreadful infirmity4            
,solitude1 however1 is not the only soil
 in which this noxious weed  springs up1
 spreading around its baleful glooms2 it
 sometimes appears  with deeply rooted  
violence in minds unused to retirement  
of every  kind4 ,in the course of my    
practice as a physician1 ,i was called  
upon  to attend a young lady1 whose     
natural disposition had been extremely  
cheerful1 until a severe fit of sickness
 damped her spirits1 and rendered  her  
averse to all those lively pleasures    

which fascinate the youthful  mind4 ,the
 debility of her frame1 and the change  
of her temper were not  sufficiently    
attended to in the early stages of her  
convalescence4 ,the  anxiety of her mind
 was visible in the altered features of 
her face2 and  she was frequently heard 
to express a melancholy regret that she 
had  consumed so many hours in the      
frivolous1 though innocent1 amusements  
of the age4 ,time increased1 by almost  
imperceptible degrees1 these  symptoms  
of approaching melancholy2 and at length
 exhibited themselves  by penitential   
lamentations of the sin she had         
committed with respect to  the most     
trifling actions of her life1 and in    
which no shadow of offence  could       
possibly be found4 ,at the time ,i was  
called in1 this superstitious           
melancholy was attended with certain    
indications of mental derangement4  ,the
 distemper clearly originated in the    
indisposition of the body1 and  the     
gloomy apprehensions which disease and  

pain1 had introduced into the  mind1    
during a period of many months4 ,this   
once lively1 handsome1 but now  almost  
insane female1 was daily attacked with  
such violent paroxysms of  her          
complaint1 that she lost all sense of   
her situation1 and exclaimed1  in horrid
 distraction and deep despair1 that her 
perdition was already  accomplished1 and
 that the fiends were waiting to receive
 her soul1  and plunge it into the      
bitterest torments of hell4 ,her        
constitution1  however1 still           
fortunately retained sufficient strength
 to enable me1 by  the power of         
medicine1 gradually to change its       
temperament1 and to reduce  the violence
 of the fever which had been long       
preying upon her life4  ,her mind became
 more calm in proportion as her nerves  
recovered their  former tone2 and when  
her intellectual powers were in a       
condition to be  acted on with effect1  
,i successfully counteracted the baleful
 effects of  superstition by the        

wholesome infusion of real religion1 and
 restored by  degrees1 a lovely1 young1 
and virtuous woman1 to her family and   
herself4    ,another instance of a      
similar nature occurred very recently1  
in which  the patient experienced all   
those symptoms1 which prognosticate the 
approach of religious melancholy1 and   
the completion of whose sorrow and      
despondency would quickly have been     
effected1 if good fortune had not       
deprived her of the advice of an        
ignorant and bigoted priest1 to whom    
her friends1 when ,i was called in1 had 
resolved to apply4 ,this young  lady1   
whose mind remained pure and uncorrupted
 amidst all the luxuries  and           
dissipations which usually accompany    
illustrious birth and elevated  station1
 possessed by nature great tranquillity 
of disposition1 and lived  with quietude
 and content1 far retired from the      
pleasures of the world4  ,i had been    
long acquainted with her family1 and    
entertained for them  the warmest       

esteem4 ,the dangerous condition of her 
health gave me great  anxiety and       
concern2 for whenever she was left one  
moment to herself1  and even in company1
 whenever she closed her eyes1 a        
thousand horrid  spectres presented     
themselves to her disordered mind1 and  
seemed ready  to devour her from every  
corner of the apartment4 ,i inquired    
whether  these imaginary spectres made  
any impression upon the affections of   
her  heart3 but she answered in the     
negative1 and described the horrors     
which  she felt from the supposed       
fierceness of their eyes1 and the       
threatening  gesticulations of their    
bodies4 ,i endeavored to compose her by 
assuring  her that they were the        
creatures of fancy1 the wild chimeras of
 a  weakened brain2 that her long course
 of ill health had affected her mind2   
and that when a proper course of        
medicine1 dietic regimen1 and gentle    
exercise1 had restored her strength1    
these dreadful appearances would  give  

way to the most delightful visions4 ,the
 course ,i pursued succeeded  in a short
 time beyond my most sanguinary         
expectations1 and ,i raised  her languid
 powers to health and happiness4 ,but if
 she had confided  the anxieties of her 
mind to her confessor1 instead of her   
physician1  the holy father would1 in   
all probability1 have ascribed her      
gloomy  apprehensions to the            
machinations of the devil1 and have used
 nothing  but pure spiritual antidotes  
to destroy them1 which would have       
increased  the melancholy1 and possibly 
have thrown her into the darkest abyss  
of  madness and despair4    ,this       
grievous malady1 indeed1 is not the     
exclusive offspring of mistaken  piety  
and religious zeal2 for it frequently   
invades minds powerful by  nature1      
improved by science1 and assisted by    
rational society4 ,health1  learning1   
conversation1 highly advantageous as    
they unquestionably are to  the powers  
both of the body and the mind1 have1 in 

particular instances1  been found       
incapable of resisting the influence of 
intense speculation1  an atrabilarius   
constitution1 and a superstitious habit4
 ,i have already  mentioned the thick   
cloud of melancholy which obscured the  
latter days  of the great and justly    
celebrated ,haller1 which were passed   
under the  oppression of a religious    
despondency1 that robbed him not only of
 all  enjoyment1 but almost of life     
itself4 ,during the long period of four 
years1 immediately antecedent to his    
death1 he lived 7if such a state  could 
be called existence7 in continual       
misery2 except1 indeed1 at those  short 
intervals when the returning powers of  
his mind enabled him1 by  the employment
 of his pen1 to experience a temporary  
relief4 ,a long  course of ill health   
had forced him into an excessive use of 
opium1 and  by taking gradually         
increased quantities of that inspissated
 juice1 he  kept himself continually    
fluctuating between a state of mind     

naturally  elevated and deeply dejected2
 for the first effects of this powerful 
drug are like those of a strong         
stimulating cordial1 but they are soon  
succeeded by universal langour1 or      
irresistable propensity to sleep1       
attended with dreams of the most        
agitated and enthusiastic nature4 ,i    
was myself an eyewitness of the dreary  
melancholy into which this great  and   
good man was plunged about two years    
before the kind1 but cold1 and  though  
friendly1 yet unwelcome hand of death1  
released him from his  pains4 ,the      
society1 which1 during that time1 he was
 most solicitous to  obtain1 was that of
 priests and ecclesiastics of every     
description3  he was uneasy when they   
were not with him3 nor was he always    
happy in  his choice of these spiritual 
comforters2 for though1 at times1 he was
  attended by some of the most          
enlightened and orthodox divines of the 
age and country in which he lived1 he   
was at others surrounded by those  whom 

nothing but the reduced and abject state
 of his faculties would  have suffered  
him to endure4 ,but during even this    
terrible subversion  of his intellectual
 powers1 his love of glory still        
survived in its  original radiance1 and 
defied all the terrors both of hell and 
earth  to destroy or diminish their     
force4 ,haller had embraced very deep   
and  serious notions of the importance  
of ,christianity to the salvation of    
the soul1 and the redemption of mankind1
 which1 by the ardency of his  temper1  
and the saturnine disposition of his    
mind1 were carried into a  mistaken zeal
 and apprehension2 and1 instead of      
affording the comfort  and consolation  
its tenets and principles are so        
eminently calculated to  inspire1       
aggravated his feelings and destroyed   
his repose4 ,in a letter  which he wrote
 a few days before his death1 to his    
great and good friend1  the celebrated  
,heyne1 of ,gottingen1 in which he      
announces the deep sense  he entertained

 from his great age and multiplied      
infirmities1 of his  impending          
dissolution1 he expressed his firm      
belief of revelation1 and  his faith in 
the mercy of ,god1 and the intercession 
of ,jesus ,christ2  but hints his fears 
lest the manifold sins1 and the various 
errors and  transgressions which the    
natural frailty of man must have        
accumulated  during a course of seventy 
years1 should have rendered his soul too
  guilty to expect the promised mercy to
 repentant sinners1 and earnestly       
requests of him to inquire of his       
acquaintance ,less1 the virtuous  divine
 of that place1 whether he could not    
furnish him with some pious  work that  
might tend to decrease the terrors he   
felt from the idea of  approaching      
death1 and relieve his tortured spirit  
from the apprehension  of eternal       
punishment4 ,the sentiments which       
occupied the mind of this  pious        
philosopher when the dreaded hour       
actually arrived1 whether it was        

comforted by the bright rays of hope1 or
 dismayed into total eclipse by  the    
dark clouds of despair1 those who       
surrounded his dying couch have not     
communicated to the world4 ,death1 while
 it released both his body and  his mind
 from the painful infirmities and       
delusions under which they had  so long 
and so severely suffered1 left his fame1
 which1 while living1  he had valued    
much dearer than his life1 exposed to   
the cruel shafts of  slander and        
malevolence4 ,a young nobleman of the   
canton of ,berne1 either  moved by his  
own malice1 or made an instrument of the
 malice of others1  asserted in a       
letter1 which was for a long time       
publicly exhibited in  the university of
 ,gottingen1 that ,haller had in his    
last moments denied  his belief of the  
truth of ,christianity4 ,but those by   
whom he was then  surrounded1 betray1 by
 the propagation of this falsehood1 the 
fears they  entertain of the firm       
support which his approbation would have

 given to  that pure and pious system of
 religion1 which they1 it is well known1
  are so disposed to destroy4 ,for      
certain it is1 that ,haller never       
doubted  any of the attributes of the   
,deity1 except his mercy2 and this doubt
 was  not the offspring of infidelity1  
but a crude abortion of that morbid     
melancholy which1 during his latter     
days1 settled so severely on his        
distempered mind4 ,the same dread which 
he entertained of death1 has been  felt 
with equal if not greater horror1 by    
minds as powerful and less              
superstitious4 ,he candidly confessed   
the important and abstruse point  upon  
which he had not been able to satisfy   
himself4 ,his high sense of  virtue made
 even his own almost exemplary and      
unblemished life appear1  in his too    
refined speculations1 grossly vicious4  
,mercy1 he knew1 must  unavoidably1 be  
correlative with justice2 and he        
unfortunately conceived  that no        
repentance1 however sincere1 could so   

purify the sinful1 and1 as  he imagined1
 deplorable corruption of his soul1 as  
to render it worthy  of divine grace4   
,so utterly had the melancholy dejection
 of his mind  deprived him of a just    
sense of his character1 and perfect     
knowledge of  the nature of the         
,almighty4 ,the mournful propensity of  
this great man  must1 if he had passed  
his days either in pious abstinence1 or 
irrational  solitude1 have hurried him  
rapidly into irrecoverable frenzy2 but  
,haller  enjoyed the patronage of the   
great1 the conversation of the learned1 
the company of the polite2 and he not   
only suspended the effects of his       
malady1 and of the medicines by which he
 attempted to relieve it1 by  these     
advantages1 but by the sciences1 which  
he so dearly loved and so  successfully 
cultivated4 ,the horrible evil1 however1
 bowed him down in  spite of all his    
efforts1 and particularly oppressed him 
whenever he  relaxed from his literary  
pursuits1 or consulted his ghostly      

comforters  on the lost condition of his
 soul4    ,solitude1 to a mind laboring 
under these erroneous notions of        
religion1  operates like a rack1 by     
which the imagination inflicts the      
severest  tortures on the soul4 ,a      
native of ,geneva1 a young man of very  
elegant  manners1 and a highly          
cultivated mind1 some time since        
consulted me  upon the subject of a     
nervous complaint1 which ,i immediately 
discovered  to be the consequence of a  
mistaken zeal for religion1 a           
disposition  naturally sedentary1 and a 
habit which is too frequently indulged  
in  solitude by unthinking youth4 ,these
 circumstances had already made the     
most dreadful inroads both on his body  
and his mind4 ,his emaciated  frame was 
daily enfeebled by his paralyzed        
intellects1 and he at length  fell into 
a settled melancholy1 which continued   
four years to defy the  power of        
medicine1 and finally destroyed his     
nervous system4 ,a strong  conviction of

 the heinous sin into which the         
blindness of his passion  and evil      
example1 had led him1 at length flashed 
suddenly on his mind1  and he felt1 with
 the keenest compunctions of a wounded  
conscience1 how  impious he must appear 
to the all-seeing eye of the great      
,creator4  ,consternation and dismay    
seized his guilty mind2 and the sense of
 virtue  and religion1 which he was     
naturally disposed to entertain1 served 
only  to increase his horror and        
distraction4 ,he would have sought a    
refuge  from the arrows of remorse under
 the protecting shields of penitence    
and prayer1 but a scrupulous            
apprehension interposed the idea that it
  would be profanation in so guilty a   
sinner to exercise the offices of a     
pure and holy religion4 ,he at length1  
however1 proceeded to confession2  but  
recollecting1 after every disclosure1   
that he had still omitted  many of his  
transgressions1 additional horror seized
 upon his mind and  tortured his        

feelings on the irrecoverable condition 
of his guilty soul4  ,at intervals1     
indeed1 he was able to perceive that the
 perturbations  of his mind were the    
produce of his disorganized frame and   
disordered  spirit2 and he endeavored to
 recruit the one by air and exercise1   
and to  dissipate the other by scenes of
 festivity and mirth3 but his disorder  
had fixed his fibres too deeply in his  
constitution to be eradicated by  such  
slight and temporary remedies4 ,from the
 inefficacious antidotes  of social     
pleasure and worldly dissipation1 he was
 induced to try the  calm and sedentary 
effects of solitary study2 but his      
faculties were  incapable of tasting the
 refined and elegant occupations of     
learning and  the muse2 his powers of   
reasoning were destroyed2 his           
sensibilities1  excepting on the subject
 of his complaint1 were dried up2 and   
neither the  sober investigations of    
science1 nor the more lively charms of  
poetry1  were capable of affording him  

the least consolation4 ,into so abject a
  state1 indeed1 did his intellectual   
faculties at length fall1 that he  had  
not1 during one period1 sufficient      
ability to compute the change  due to   
him from any piece of coin in the common
 transactions of life2  and he confessed
 that he had been frequently tempted1 by
 the deepness  of his distress1 to      
release both his body and his mind from 
their cruel  sufferings1 and 8to shake  
impatiently his great affliction off0 by
 self  destruction2 but the idea of     
heaping new punishment on his soul1 by  
the  perpetration of this additional    
crime1 continually interposed1 and saved
  him from the guilty deed4 ,during this
 state of mental derangement1 he        
fortunately met with a liberal minded   
and rational divine1 who1 free  from the
 errors of priestcraft1 and possessed of
 a profound knowledge of  the virtues of
 religion and the structure of the human
 mind1 undertook  the arduous but humane
 and truly philosophic task1 of         

endeavoring to  bring back his mind to a
 rational sense of its guilt1 and to a  
firm  hope of pardon through the        
intercession of our ,saviour4 ,religion1
 that  sweet and certain comforter of   
human woes1 at length effected a partial
  recovery1 and restored him to a degree
 of tranquillity and repose2 but  he    
still continued to suffer1 for years    
afterward1 so great a misery  from the  
shattered condition of his nerves1 that 
he could not even  compose a letter upon
 the most trifling and indifferent      
subject without  the greatest labor and 
pain4 ,as his feelings had never been   
hurt by any  sense of injury received   
from mankind1 he entertained no         
antipathy to  his species2 but as he was
 conscious that his reduced state of    
health  prevented him from keeping up   
any rational or pleasing intercourse    
with them1 he felt a sort of abhorrence 
to society1 and refused1 even  when     
advised by his physicians and intimate  
friends1 to mingle in its  pleasures1 or

 engage in its concerns4 ,the proposal1 
indeed1 appeared  as extravagant and    
absurd to his feelings1 as if a man1    
almost choking  under the convulsion of 
a confirmed asthma1 had been told that  
it was  only necessary for him to       
breathe freely in order to acquire      
perfect  ease4 ,this deplorable state of
 health induced him to consult several  
,italian and ,english physicians2 and   
being advised to try the effects of  a  
sea voyage1 he set sail for ,riga1 where
 he safely arrived2 but1 after  a       
residence of six months1 found himself  
unaltered1 and precisely in the  same   
dreadful condition in which he had set  
sail4 ,on his return1 ,i was  called in 
to his assistance4 ,there were at this  
period but very few of  those gloomy and
 noxious vapors of superstition which   
had so tormented  his mind1 remaining2  
but his body1 and particularly his      
nervous system1  was still racked with  
agonizing pains4 ,i had the good fortune
 to afford  him great relief2 and when  

at times his sufferings were suspended1 
and  his spirits enlivened by pleasing  
conversation1 he was certainly one  of  
the most entertaining men1 both as to   
the vivacity of his wit1 the  shrewdness
 of his observations1 the powers of his 
reasoning1 and the  solidity of his     
judgment1 that ,i had ever known4       
,these instances clearly evince how     
dangerous solitude may prove to  minds  
predisposed1 by accident or nature1 to  
indulge a misdirected  imagination1     
either upon the common subjects of life1
 or upon the more  important and        
affecting topic of religion2 but it must
 not be concluded  from the observations
 ,i have already made1 that a rational  
retirement  from the vices1 the         
vanities1 and the vexations of the      
world1 is equally  unfriendly1 under all
 circumstances1 to a sickly mind4 ,the  
cool and quiet  repose which seclusion  
affords1 is frequently the most         
advantageous  remedy which can be       
adopted for the recovery of a disturbed 

imagination4  ,it would indeed be the   
height of absurdity to recommend to a   
person  suffering under a derangement of
 the nervous system1 the diversions and 
dissipations of public life1 when it is 
known1 by sad experience1 as well  as by
 daily observation1 that the least hurry
 disorders their frame1  and the        
gentlest intercourse palpitates their   
hearts1 and shakes their  brains1 almost
 to distraction4 ,the healthy and robust
 can have no idea  how violent the      
slightest touch vibrates through the    
trembling nerves  of the dejected       
valetudinarian4 ,the gay and healthy1   
therefore1 seldom  sympathize with the  
sorrowful and the sick4 ,this1 indeed1  
is one reason  why those who1 having    
lost the firm and vigorous tone of mind 
which is  so essentially necessary in   
the intercourses of the world1 generally
  abandon society1 and seek in the      
softness of solitude a solace for their 
cares and anxieties2 for there they     
frequently find a kind asylum1  where   

the soul rests free from disturbance1   
and in time appeases the  violence of   
its emotions3 for 8the foster nurse of  
nature is repose40  ,experience1 alas6  
sad experience1 has but too well        
qualified me to treat  of this subject4 
,in the fond expectation of being able  
to re-establish  my nervous system1 and 
to regain that health which ,i had      
broken down1  and almost destroyed by   
intense application1 ,i repaired to the 
,circle of  ,westphalia1 in order to    
taste the waters of ,pyrmont1 and to    
divert the  melancholy of my mind by the
 company which resorts to that          
celebrated  spring3 but1 alas6 ,i was   
unable to enjoy the lively scene2 and ,i
 walked  through multitudes of the      
great1 the elegant1 and the gay1 in     
painful  stupor1 scarcely recognizing   
the features of my friends1 and fearful 
of  being noticed by those who knew me4 
,the charms of wit1 and the splendors   
of youthful beauty1 were to me as       
unalluring as age and ugliness1 when    

joined to the deformities of vice1 and  
the fatiguing prate of senseless  folly4
 ,during this miserable impotence of    
soul1 and while ,i vainly sought  a     
temporary relief of my own calamity1 ,i 
was hourly assailed by a crowd  of      
wretched souls1 who implored me to      
afford them my professional aid1 to     
alleviate those pains which time1 alas6 
had fixed in their constitutions  and   
which depended more on the management   
and reformation of their own  minds1    
than on the powers of medicine to cure4 
,for--        ,i could not minister to a
 mind diseased1      ,pluck from the    
memory a rooted sorrow1      ,raze out  
the written troubles of the brain1      
,and1 with a sweet oblivious antidote1  
,cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that      
perilous stuff      ,which weighed upon 
the heart4    ,to avoid these painful   
importunities1 ,i flew from the         
tasteless scenes  with abrupt and angry 
violence2 and confining myself to the   
solitude of  my apartments1 passed the  

lingering day in dreary dejection1      
musing on  the melancholy group from    
which ,i had just escaped4 ,but my home 
did not  long afford me an asylum4 ,i   
was on the ensuing day assailed by a    
host of  hypochondriacs1 attended by    
their respective advisers1 who1 while my
 own  nervous malady was raging at its  
full height1 stunned me with the various
  details of their imaginary woes1 and  
excruciated me the whole day with  their
 unfounded ails and tormenting          
lamentations4 ,the friendly approach  of
 night at length relieved me from their 
importunities2 but my spirits  had been 
exhausted1 my feelings so vexed1 my     
patience so tried1 and the              
sensibilities of my mind so aggravated1 
by the persecution ,i had endured1      
that--        8,tir'd nature's sweet    
restorer1 balmly sleep10    fled from my
 eyes2 and ,i lay restless upon my      
couch1 alive only to my  miseries1 in a 
state of anguish more insupportable than
 my bitterest  enemies would1 ,i hope1  

have inflicted on me4 ,about noon1 on   
the ensuing  day1 while ,i was          
endeavoring to procure on the sofa a    
short repose1  the princess ,orlow1     
accompanied by two other very agreeable 
,russian  ladies1 whose company and     
conversation it was both my pride and my
  pleasure frequently to enjoy1 suddenly
 entered my apartment1 to inquire  after
 my health1 of the state of which they  
had received an account  only a few     
hours before2 but such was the petulance
 of temper into  which my disordered    
mind had betrayed me1 that ,i           
immediately rose1 and  with uncivil     
vehemence1 requested they would not     
disturb me4 ,the fair  intruders        
instantly left the room4 ,about an hour 
afterward1 and while  ,i was reflecting 
on the impropriety of my conduct1 the   
prince himself  honored me with a visit4
 ,he placed himself on a chair close by 
the couch  on which ,i lay1 and1 with   
that kind affection which belongs to his
  character1 inquired1 with the         

tenderest and most sympathizing concern1
  into the cause of my disorder4 ,there 
was a charm in his kindness and         
attention that softened1 in some degree1
 the violence of my pains4 ,he          
continued his visit for some time2 and  
when he was about to leave me1  after   
premising that ,i knew him too well to  
suspect that superstition had  any      
influence in his mind1 said1 8,let me   
advise you1 whenever you find  yourself 
in so waspish and petulant a mood1 as   
you must have been in when  you turned  
the princess and her companions out of  
the room1 to endeavor  to check the     
violence of your temper2 and ,i think   
you will find it an  excellent expedient
 for this purpose1 if1 while any friend 
is kindly  inquiring after your health1 
however averse you may be at the moment 
to  such an inquiry1 instead of driving 
him so uncivilly away1 you would  employ
 yourself in a silent mental repetition 
of the ,lord's prayer3 it  might prove  
very salutary1 and would certainly be   

much more satisfactory  to your mind40  
,no advice could be better imagined than
 this was to  divert the emotions of    
impatience1 by creating in the mind new 
objects  of attention1 and turning the  
raging current of distempered thought   
into  a more pure and peaceful channel4 
,experience1 indeed1 has enabled me to  
announce the efficacy and virtue of this
 expedient4 ,i have frequently1  by the 
practice of it1 defeated the fury of    
petulant passions1 and  completely      
subdued many of those absurdities which 
vex and tease us in  the hours of grief 
and during the sorrows of sickness4     
,others also to  whom ,i have           
recommended it1 have experienced from it
 similar effects4  ,the prince1 8my     
guide1 philosopher1 and friend10 a few  
weeks after he  had given me this wise  
and salutary advice1 consulted me       
respecting the  difficulty he frequently
 labored under in suppressing the       
violence of  those transports of        
affection which he bore toward his young

 and amiable  consort1 and which1 in a  
previous conversation on philosophic    
subjects1  ,i had seriously exhorted him
 to check1 under a conviction1 that a   
steady  flame is more permanent and pure
 than a raging fire4 ,he asked me with  
some concern what expedient ,i could    
recommend to him as most likely to      
control those emotions which happy      
lovers are so anxious to indulge4 8,my  
dear friend10 ,i replied1 8there is no  
expedient can surpass your own2  and    
whenever the intemperance of passion is 
in danger of subverting the  dictates of
 reason1 repeat the ,lord's prayer1 and 
,i have no doubt you  will foil its     
fury40    ,when the mind is thus enabled
 to check and regulate the effects of   
the  passions1 and bring back the temper
 to its proper tone and rational  basis1
 the serenity and calmness of solitude  
assists the achievement1  and completes 
the victory4 ,it is then so far from    
infusing into the mind  the virulent    
passions we have before described1 that 

it affords a soft  and pleasing balm to 
the soul2 and instead of being its      
greatest enemy1  becomes its highest    
blessing and its warmest friend4        
,solitude1 indeed1 as ,i have already   
observed1 is far from betraying         
well-regulated minds either into the    
miseries of melancholy1 or the  danger  
of eccentricism4 ,it raises a healthy   
and vigorous imagination  to its noblest
 production1 elevates it when dejected1 
calms it when  disturbed1 and restores  
it1 when partially disordered1 to its   
natural  tone4 ,it is as in every other 
matter1 whether physical or moral1 the  
abuse of solitude which renders it      
dangerous2 like every powerful          
medicine1 it is attended1 when          
misapplied1 with most mischievous       
consequences3 but when properly         
administered1 is pleasant in its taste1 
and highly salutary in its effects4 ,he 
who knows how to enjoy it can           
''' truly tell      ,to live in solitude
 is with truth to dwell2      ,where gay

 content with healthy temperance meets1 
,and learning intermixes all its sweets2
      ,where friendship1 elegance1 and  
arts unite      ,to make the hours glide
 social1 easy1 bright3      ,he tastes  
the converse of the purest mind3        
,though mild1 yet manly3 and though     
plain1 refined2      ,and through the   
moral world expatiates wide      ,truth 
as his end1 and virtue as his guide4    
,,chapter ,,vi4    ,the influence of    
solitude on the passions4      ,the     
passions lose in solitude a certain     
portion of that regulating weight  by   
which in society they are guided and    
controlled2 the counteracting  effects  
produced by variety1 the restraints     
imposed by the obligations  of civility1
 and the checks which arise from the    
calls of humanity1  occur much less     
frequently in retirement than amidst the
 multifarious  transactions of a busy   
world4 ,the desires and sensibilities of
 the  heart having no real objects on   
which their vibrations can pendulate1   

are stimulated and increased by the     
powers of imagination4 ,all the         
propensities of the soul1 indeed1       
experience a degree of restlessness and 
vehemence greater than they ever feel   
while diverted by the pleasures1        
subdued by the surrounding distresses1  
and engaged by the business of  active  
and social life4    ,the calm which     
seems to accompany the mind in its      
retreat is deceitful2  the passions are 
secretly at work within the heart2 the  
imagination is  continually heaping fuel
 on the latent fire1 and at length the  
laboring  desire bursts forth1 and glows
 with volcanic heat and fury4 ,the      
temporary  inactivity and inertness     
which retirement seems to impose1 may   
check1  but cannot subdue the energies  
of spirit4 ,the high pride and lofty    
ideas of great and independent minds may
 be1 for a while1 lulled into  repose2  
but the moment the feelings of such a   
character are awakened by  indignity or 
outrage1 its anger springs like an      

elastic body drawn from  its centre1 and
 pierces with vigorous severity the     
object that provoked  it4 ,the perils of
 solitude1 indeed1 always increase in   
proportion as  the sensibilities1       
imaginations1 and passions of its       
votaries are  quick1 excursive1 and     
violent4 ,the man may be the inmate of a
 cottage1  but the same passions and    
inclinations still lodge within his     
heart3  his mansion may be changed1 but 
their residence is the same2 and  though
 they appear to be silent and           
undisturbed1 they are secretly          
influencing all the propensities of his 
heart4 ,whatever be the cause  of his   
retirement1 whether it be a sense of    
undeserved misfortune1 the  ingratitude 
of supposed friends1 the pangs of       
despised love1 or the  disappointment of
 ambition1 memory prevents the wound    
from healing1 and  stings the soul with 
indignation and resentment4 ,the image  
of departed  pleasures haunts the mind1 
and robs it of its wished tranquillity4 

,the  ruling passion still subsists2 it 
fixes itself more strongly on the       
fancy2 moves with greater agitation2 and
 becomes1 in retirement1 in  proportion 
as it is inclined to vice or virtue1    
either a horrid and  tormenting spectre1
 inflicting apprehension and dismay1 or 
a delightful  and supporting angel1     
irradiating the countenance with smiles 
of joy1 and  filling the heart with     
peace and gladness4        ,blest is the
 man1 as far as earth can bless1        
,whose measur'd passions reach no wild  
excess2      ,who1 urged by nature's    
voice1 her gifts enjoys1      ,nor other
 means than nature's force employs4     
,while warm with youth the sprightly    
current flows1      ,each vivid sense   
with vigorous rapture glows2      ,and  
when he droops beneath the hand of age1 
,no vicious habit stings with fruitless 
rage2      ,gradual his strength and gay
 sensations cease1      ,while joys     
tumultuous sink in silent peace4    ,the
 extraordinary power which the passions 

assume1 and the improper  channel in    
which they are apt to flow in retired   
situations1 is  conspicuous from the    
greater acrimony with which they are in 
general  tainted in small villages than 
in large towns4 ,it is true1 indeed1    
that  they do not always explode in such
 situations with the open and daring    
violence which they exhibit in the      
metropolis2 but lie buried as it  were1 
and mouldering in the bosom with a more 
malignant flame4 ,to those  who only    
observe the listlessness and languor    
which distinguish the  characters of    
those who reside in small provincial    
towns1 the slow and  uniform rotation of
 amusements which fills up the leisure  
of their lives2  the confused wildness  
of their cares2 the poor subterfuges to 
which they  are continually resorting1  
in order to avoid the clouds of         
discontent  that impend in angry        
darkness1 over their heads2 the lagging 
current  of their drooping spirits2 the 
miserable poverty of their intellectual 

powers2 the eagerness with which they   
strive to raise a card party2 the       
transports they enjoy on the prospect of
 any new diversion or occasional        
exhibition2 the haste with which they   
run toward any sudden1 unexpected  noise
 that interrupts the deep silence of    
their situation2 and the  patient       
industry with which1 from day to day1   
they watch each other's  conduct1 and   
circulate reports of every action of    
each other's lives1  will scarcely      
imagine that any virulence of passion   
can disturb the  bosoms of persons who  
live in so quiet and seemingly composed 
a state4  ,but the unoccupied time and  
barren minds of such characters cause   
the  faintest emotions1 and most common 
desires1 to act with all the violence   
of high and untamed passions4 ,the      
lowest diversions1 a cock fighting1 or  
a pony race1 make the bosom of a country
 'squire beat with the highest  rapture2
 while the inability to attend the      
monthly ball fills the minds  of his    

wife and daughter with the keenest      
anguish4 ,circumstances1 which  scarcely
 make any impression on those who reside
 in the metropolis1  plunge every       
description of residents in a country   
village into all  the extravagances of  
joy1 or the dejection of sorrow2 from   
the peer to  the peasant1 from the      
duchess to the dairy maid1 all is       
rapture and  convulsion4 ,competition is
 carried on for the humble honors and   
petty  interests of a sequestered town1 
or miserable hamlet1 with as much heat  
and rancor1 as it is for the highest    
dignities and greatest emoluments  of   
the state4 ,upon many occasions1 indeed1
 ambition1 envy1 revenge1 and  all the  
disorderly and malignant passions1 are  
felt and exercised with a  greater      
degree of violence and obstinacy amidst 
the little contentions of  claybuilt    
cottages1 than ever prevailed amidst the
 highest commotions of  courts4         
,plutarch relates that when ,csar1 after
 his appointment to the  government of  

,spain1 came to a little town1 as he was
 passing the ,alps1  his friends1 by way
 of mirth1 took occasion to say1 8,can  
there here be  any disputes for offices1
 any contentions for precedency1 or such
 envy  and ambition as we behold among  
the great in all the transactions of    
imperial ,rome80 ,the idea betrayed     
their ignorance of human nature2 while  
the celebrated reply of their great     
commander1 that he would rather be  the 
first man in this little town1 than the 
second even in the imperial  city1 spoke
 the language1 not of an individual1 but
 of the species2  and instructed them   
that there is no place1 however         
insignificant1 in  which the same       
passions do not proportionately prevail4
 ,the humble  competitors for village   
honors1 however low and subordinate they
 may  be1 feel as great anxiety for     
pre-eminence1 as much jealousy of       
rivals1  and as violent envy against    
superiors1 as agitate the bosoms of the 
most ambitious statesmen in contending  

for the highest prize of glory1  of     
riches1 or of power4 ,the manner1       
perhaps1 in which these inferior        
candidates exert their passions may be  
less artful1 and the objects of  them   
less noble1 but they are certainly not  
less virulent4 8,having10 says          
,euphelia1 who had quitted ,london1 to  
enjoy the quietude and happiness  of a  
rural village1 8been driven by the mere 
necessity of escaping from  absolute    
inactivity1 to make myself more         
acquainted with the affairs  and        
happiness of this place1 ,i am now no   
longer a stranger to rural  conversation
 and employments2 but am far from       
discerning in them more  innocence or   
wisdom than in the sentiments or conduct
 of those with whom  ,i have passed more
 cheerful and more fashionable hours4   
,it is common  to reproach the tea table
 and the park1 with giving opportunities
 and  encouragement to scandal ,i cannot
 wholly clear them from the charge1 but 
must1 however1 observe1 in favor of the 

modish prattlers1 that if not by        
principle1 we are at least by accident1 
less guilty of defamation than  the     
country ladies4 ,for1 having greater    
numbers to observe and censure1  we are 
commonly content to charge them only    
with their own faults or  follies1 and  
seldom give way to malevolence1 but such
 as arises from  injury or affront1 real
 or imaginary1 offered to ourselves4    
,but in those  distant provinces1 where 
the same families inhabit the same      
houses from  age to age1 they transmit  
and recount the faults of a whole       
succession4  ,i have been informed how  
every estate in the neighborhood was    
originally  got1 and find1 if ,i may    
credit the accounts given me1 that there
 is  not a single acre in the hands of  
the right owner4 ,i have been told of   
intrigues between beaus and toasts1 that
 have been now three centuries  in their
 quiet graves2 and am often entertained 
with traditional scandal  on persons of 
whose names there would have been no    

remembrance1 had they  not committed    
somewhat that might disgrace their      
descendants4 ,if once  there happens a  
quarrel between the principal persons of
 two families1  the malignity is        
continued without end2 and it is common 
for old maids  to fall out about some   
election in which their grandfathers    
were  competitors4 ,thus malice and     
hatred descend here with an inheritance2
 and  it is necessary to be well versed 
in history1 that the various factions   
of the country may be understood4 ,you  
cannot expect to be on good  terms with 
families who are resolved to love       
nothing in common2 and in  selecting    
your intimates1 you are1 perhaps1 to    
consider which party you  most favor in 
the barons' wars40    ,resentments and  
enmities burn with a much more furious  
flame among  the thinly-scattered       
inhabitants of a petty village1 than    
amidst the  ever varying concourse of a 
great metropolis4 ,the objects by which 
the  passions are set on fire are hidden

 from our view by the tumults which     
prevail in a crowded city1 and the bosom
 willingly loses the pains which  such  
emotions excite when the causes which   
occasioned them are forgot3  but in     
country villages1 the thorns by which   
the feelings have been hurt  are        
continually before our eyes1 and        
preserve on every approach toward  them1
 a remembrance of the injuries          
sustained4 ,an extreme devout and       
highly religious lady1 who resided in a 
retired hamlet in ,swisserland1  once   
told me1 in a conversation on this      
subject1 that she had completely        
suppressed all indignation against the  
envy1 the hatred1 and the malice  of her
 surrounding neighbors2 for that she    
found they were so deeply dyed  in sin1 
that a rational remonstrance was lost   
upon them2 and that the  only vexation  
she felt from a sense of their          
wretchedness arose from the  idea that  
her soul would at the last day be       
obliged to keep company with  such      

incorrigible wretches4    ,the          
inhabitants of the country1 indeed1 both
 of the lower and middling  classes1    
cannot be expected to possess characters
 of a very respectable  kind1 when we   
look at the conduct of those who set    
them the example4 ,a  country           
magistrate1 who has certainly great     
opportunities of forming the  manners   
and morals of the district over which he
 presides1 is in general  puffed up with
 high and extravagant conceptions of the
 superiority of  his wisdom1 and the    
extent of his power2 and raising his    
idea of the  greatness of his character 
in an inverse proportion to his notions 
of  the insignificance and littleness of
 those around him1 he sits enthroned    
with fancied pre-eminence1 the          
disdainful tyrant1 rather than the kind 
protector of his neighbors4 ,deprived of
 all liberal and instructive  society1  
confined in their knowledge both of men 
and things1 the slaves  of prejudice and
 the pupils of folly2 with contracted   

hearts and degraded  faculties the      
inhabitants of a country village feel   
all the base and  ignoble passions1     
sordid rapacity1 mean envy1 and         
insulting ostentation  more forcibly    
than they are felt either in the        
enlarged society of the  metropolis1 or 
even in the confined circle of the      
monastery4    ,the social virtues1      
indeed1 are almost totally excluded from
 cloisters1  as well as from every other
 kind of solitary institution3 for when 
the  habits1 interests1 and pleasures of
 the species are pent up by any  means  
within a narrow compass1 mutual         
jealousies and exasperations  must      
prevail2 every trifling immunity1 petty 
privilege1 and paltry  distinction1     
becomes an object of the most violent   
contention2 and  increasing animosities 
at length reach to such a degree of     
virulence1  that the pious flock is     
converted into a herd of famished       
wolves1 eager  to worry and devour each 
other4    ,the laws of every convent    

strictly enjoin the holy sisterhood to  
live in ,christian charity and sincere  
affection with each other4 ,i  have1    
however1 when attending these fair      
recluses in my professional  character1 
observed many of them with wrinkles1    
that seemed rather the  effect of angry 
perturbation1 than of peaceful age1 with
 aspects formed  rather by envy1 hatred1
 malice1 and all uncharitableness1 than 
by mild  benevolence and singleness of  
heart4 ,but ,i should do injustice if ,i
  did not declare1 that ,i have seen    
some few who were strangers to such     
unworthy passions2 whose countenances   
were unindented by their effects3  and  
whose beauty and comeliness still shone 
in their native lustre and  simplicity4 
,it was1 indeed1 painful to reflect upon
 the sufferings which  these lovely     
innocents must endure1 until the        
thoughts of their lost  hopes1 defeated 
happiness1 and unmerited wrongs1 should 
have changed  the milky kindness of     
their virtuous dispositions into the    

gall-like  bitterness of vexation and   
despair2 until the brightness of their  
charming features should be darkened by 
the clouds of discontent1 which  their  
continued imprisonment would create2 and
 until their cheerful and  easy tempers 
should be perverted by the corrosions of
 those vindictive  passions which the   
jealous furies1 with whom they were     
immured1 and  to whom they formed so    
striking a contrast1 must in time so    
cruelly  inflict4 ,these lovely         
mourners1 on entering the walls of a    
convent1 are  obliged to submit to the  
tyranny of an envious superior1 or the  
jealousy  of the older inmates1 whose   
angry passions arise in proportion as   
they  perceive others less miserable    
than themselves2 and retiring1 at the   
stated periods1 from their joint        
persecution1 they find that the gloomy  
solitude to which they have flown1 only 
tends to aggravate and widen  the wound 
it was expected to cure4 ,it is1 indeed1
 almost impossible  for any female1     

however amiable1 to preserve in the     
joyless gloom of  conventual solitude   
the cheering sympathies of nature4 ,a   
retrospect of  her past life most       
probably exhibits to her tortured fancy1
 superstition  stinging with scorpion   
like severity her pious mind2 love      
sacrificed  on the altar of family      
pride2 or fortune ruined by the avarice 
of a  perfidious guardian2 while the    
future presents to her view the dreary  
prospect of an eternal and melancholy   
separation from all the enjoyments  of  
society1 and a continual exposure to the
 petulance and ill humor of  the        
dissatisfied sisterhood4 ,what          
disposition1 however mild and gentle  by
 nature1 can preserve itself amidst such
 confluent dangers8 ,how is  it possible
 to prevent the most amiable tenderness 
of heart1 the most  lively and sensible 
mind from becoming1 under such          
circumstances1 a prey  to the bitterness
 of affliction and malevolence8 ,those  
who have had  an opportunity to observe 

the operation of the passions on the    
habits1  humors1 and dispositions of    
recluse females1 have perceived with    
horror  the cruel and unrelenting fury  
with which they goad the soul1 and with 
what an imperious and irresistible voice
 they command obedience to their        
inclination4    ,the passion of love1 in
 particular1 acts with much greater     
force upon the  mind that endeavors to  
escape from its effects by retirement1  
than it  does when it is either resisted
 or indulged4    ,retirement1 under such
 circumstances1 is a childish expedient2
 it is  expecting to achieve that1 by   
means of a fearful flight1 which it is  
frequently too much for the courage and 
the constancy of heroes to  subdue4     
,retirement is the very nest and harbor 
of this powerful passion4  ,how many    
abandon the gay and jovial circles of   
the world1 renounce even  the most calm 
and satisfactory delights of friendship1
 and quit1 without  a sigh1 the most    
delicious and highest seasoned pleasures

 of society1 to  seek in retirement the 
superior joys of love6 a passion in     
whose high  and tender delights the     
insolence of power1 the treachery of    
friendship1  and the most vindictive    
malice1 is immediately forgot4 ,it is a 
passion1  when pure1 that can never     
experience the least decay2 no course of
  time1 no change of place1 no          
alteration of circumstances1 can erase  
or  lessen the ideas of that bliss which
 it has once imprinted on the heart4    
,its characters are indelible4          
,solitude1 in its most charming state1  
and surrounded by its amplest1 powers1  
affords no resource against its         
anxieties1 its jealous fears1 its tender
 alarms1 its soft sorrows1 or its       
inspiringly tumultuous joys4 ,the bosom 
that is once deeply wounded by the      
barbed dart of real love1 seldom        
recovers its tranquillity1 but enjoys1  
if happy1 the highest of human delights2
 and if miserable1 the deepest  of human
 torments4 ,but1 although the love-sick 

shepherd fills the lonely  vallies1 and 
the verdant groves1 with the softest    
sighs1 or severest  sorrows1 and the    
cells of the monasteries and convents   
resound with heavy  groans and          
deep-toned curses against the malignity 
of this passion1  solitude may perhaps1 
for a while suspend1 if it cannot       
extinguish its  fury4 ,of the truth of  
this observation1 the history of those  
unfortunate1  but real lovers1 ,abelard 
and ,eloisa1 furnishes a memorable      
instance4    ,in the twelfth century1   
and while ,louis the ,gross filled the  
throne  of ,france1 was born in the     
retired village of ,palais1 in          
,brittany1 the  celebrated ,peter       
,abelard4 ,nature had lavished the      
highest perfections  both on his person 
and his mind3 a liberal education       
improved to their  utmost possible      
extent the gifts of nature2 and he      
became in a few years  the most learned1
 elegant1 and polite gentleman of his   
age and country4  ,philosophy and       

divinity were his favorite studies3 and 
lest the affairs  of the world should   
prevent him from becoming a proficient  
in them1  he surrendered his birthright 
to his younger brethren1 and travelled  
to ,paris1 in order to cultivate his    
mind under that great professor1        
,william des ,champeaux4 ,the eminence  
he attained as a professor1 while  it   
procured him the esteem of the rational 
and discerning1 excited the  envy of his
 rivals4 ,but1 beside his uncommon merit
 as a scholar1 he  possessed a greatness
 of soul which nothing could subdue4 ,he
 looked  upon riches and grandeur with  
contempt2 and his only ambition was to  
render his name famous among learned    
men1 and to acquire the reputation  of  
the greatest doctor of his age4 ,but    
when he had attained his seven  and     
twentieth year of age1 all his          
philosophy could not guard him  against 
the shafts of love4 ,not far from the   
place where ,abelard read  his lectures1
 lived a canon of the church of ,notre  

,dame1 named ,fulbert1  whose niece1 the
 celebrated ,eloisa1 had been educated  
under his own eye  with the greatest    
care and attention4 ,her person was well
 proportioned1  her features regular1   
her eyes sparkling1 her lips vermilion  
and well  formed1 her complexion        
animated1 her air fine1 and her aspect  
sweet and  agreeable4 ,she possessed a  
surprising quickness of wit1 an         
incredible  memory1 and a considerable  
share of learning1 joined with great    
humility  and tenderness of disposition3
 and all these accomplishments were     
attended with something so graceful and 
moving1 that it was impossible  for     
those who saw her not to love her4 ,the 
eye of ,abelard was charmed1  and his   
whole soul intoxicated in the passion of
 love1 the moment he  beheld and        
conversed with this extraordinary woman2
 and he laid aside  all other           
engagements to attend to his passion4   
,he was deaf to the calls  both reason  
and philosophy1 and thought of nothing  

but her company and  conversation4 ,an  
opportunity1 fortunate for his love1 but
 fatal to his  happiness1 soon occurred4
 ,fulbert1 whose affection for his niece
 was  unbounded1 willing to improve to  
the highest degree the excellency of    
those talents which nature had so       
bountifully bestowed on her1 engaged    
,abelard as her preceptor1 and received 
him in that character into his  house4  
,a mutual passion strongly infused      
itself into the hearts of both  pupil   
and preceptor4 ,she consented to become 
his mistress1 but1 for a  long time1    
refused to become his wife4 ,the secret 
of their loves could  not remain long   
concealed from the eyes of ,fulbert1 and
 the lover was  dismissed from his      
house3 but ,eloisa flew with rapture to 
his arms1 and  was placed under the     
protection of his sister1 where she     
remained2 until1  from the cruel        
vengeance which her uncle exercised on  
the unfortunate  ,abelard1 she was      
induced at his request to enter into the

 convent of  ,argenteuil1 and he into   
the monastery of ,st4 ,gildas4 ,in this 
cloister1  the base of which was washed 
by the waves of a sea less turbulent    
than the passions which disturbed his   
soul1 the unfortunate ,abelard1         
endeavored by the exercises of religion 
and study1 to obliterate all            
remembrance of his love2 but his virtue 
was too feeble for the great  attempt4  
,a course of many years1 however1 had   
passed in penitence and  mortification1 
without any communication between them1 
and further time  might possibly have   
calmed in a still greater degree the    
violence of  their feelings2 but a      
letter which ,abelard wrote to his      
friend ,philintus1  in order to comfort 
him under some affliction which had     
befallen him1 in  which he related his  
affection for ,eloisa with great        
tenderness1 fell  into her hands1 and   
induced her to break through the silence
 which had  so long prevailed1 by       
writing to him a letter1 the contents of

 which  revived in his mind all the     
former furies of his passion4 ,time1    
absence1  solitude1 and prayer1 had in  
no degree diminished the amiable        
tenderness  of the still lovely ,eloisa1
 or augmented the fortitude of the      
unfortunate  ,abelard4 ,the composing   
influence of religion seems to have made
 an  earlier impression upon his        
feelings than it did upon those of      
,eloisa2  but he continually            
counteracted its effects1 by comparing  
his former  felicity with his present   
torments2 and he answered ,eloisa's     
letter1 not  as a moral preceptor1 or   
holy confessor1 but as a still fond and 
adoring  lover2 as a man whose wounded  
feelings were in some degree alleviated 
by  a recollection of his former joys2  
and who could only console the sorrows  
of his mistress1 by avowing an equal    
tenderness1 and confessing the  anguish 
with which their separation rent his    
soul4 ,the walls of ,paraclete          
resounded his sighs less frequently1 and

 re-echoed less fervently with  his     
sorrows1 than those of ,st4 ,gildas2 for
 his continued solitude1 so  far from   
affording him relief1 had administered  
an aggravating medicine  to his disease2
 and afforded that vulture1 grief1      
greater leisure to  tear and prey upon  
his disordered heart4 8,religion10 says 
he1 8commands  me to pursue virtue since
 ,i have nothing to hope for from love2 
but  love still asserts its dominion in 
my fancy1 and entertains itself with    
past pleasures2 memory supplies the     
place of a mistress4 ,piety and duty    
are not always the fruits of retirement4
 ,even in deserts1 when the dew  of     
heaven falls not on us1 we love what we 
ought no longer to love4  ,the passions1
 stirred up by solitude1 fill those     
regions of death and  silence2 and it is
 very seldom that what ought to be is   
truly followed  there1 and that ,god    
only is loved and served40    ,the      
letters of ,eloisa were soft1 gentle1   
and endearing2 but they breathed  the   

warmest language of tenderness and      
unconquerable passion4 8,i have  your   
picture10 says she1 8in my room4 ,i     
never pass by it without stopping  to   
look at it2 and yet when you were       
present with me1 ,i scarce even  cast my
 eyes upon it4 ,if a picture1 which is  
but a mute representation  of an object1
 can give such pleasure1 what cannot    
letters inspire8  ,letters have souls2  
they have in them all that force which  
expresses the  transports of the heart3 
they have all the fire of our passions2 
they  can raise them as much as if the  
persons themselves were present2 they   
have all the softness and delicacy of   
speech1 and sometimes a boldness  of    
expression even beyond it4 ,we may write
 to each other2 so innocent a  pleasure 
is not forbidden us4 ,let us not lose1  
through negligence1 the  only happiness 
which is left to us1 and the only one   
perhaps1 which the  malice of our       
enemies can never ravish from us4 ,i    
shall read that you  are my husband1 and

 you shall see me address you as a wife4
 ,in spite  of all your misfortunes1 you
 may be what you please in your letters4
  ,letters were first invented for      
comforting such solitary wretches as    
myself4 ,having lost the pleasure of    
seeing you1 ,i shall compensate this    
loss by the satisfaction ,i shall find  
in your writings3 there ,i shall  read  
your most secret thoughts3 ,i shall     
carry them always about me2 ,i  shall   
kiss them every moment4 ,if you can be  
capable of jealousy1 let it  be for the 
fond curiosity ,i shall bestow on your  
letters1 and envy only  the happiness of
 those rivals4 ,that writing may be no  
trouble to you1  write always to me     
carelessly and without study3 ,i had    
rather read the  dictates of the heart  
than of the brain4 ,i cannot live1 if   
you do not  tell me you always love me4 
,you cannot but remember1 7for what do  
not  lovers remember87 with what        
pleasure ,i have passed whole days in   
hearing  you discourse2 how1 when you   

was absent1 ,i shut myself up from every
 one  to write to you2 how uneasy ,i was
 till my letter had come to your hands2 
what artful management was required to  
engage confidants4 ,this detail1        
perhaps1 surprises you1 and you are in  
pain for what will follow3 but  ,i am no
 longer ashamed that my passion has had 
no bounds for you2 for  ,i have done    
more than all this3 ,i have hated myself
 that ,i might love  you4 ,i came hither
 to ruin myself in a perpetual          
imprisonment1 that ,i  might make you   
live quiet and easy4 ,nothing but       
virtue1 joined to a love  perfectly     
disengaged from the commerce of the     
senses1 could have produced  such       
effects4 ,vice never inspires any thing 
like this4 ,how did ,i deceive  myself  
with the hopes that you would be wholly 
mine when ,i took the  veil1 and engaged
 myself to live for ever under your     
laws6 ,for1 in being  professed1 ,i     
vowed no more than to be yours only2 and
 ,i obliged myself  voluntarily to a    

confinement in which you denied to place
 me4 ,death only  can make me leave the 
place where you have fixed me2 and then 
too my  ashes shall rest here1 and wait 
for yours1 in order to show my obedience
  and devotedness to you to the latest  
moment possible40    ,abelard1 while he 
strove1 in his reply1 to adhere to the  
dictates of  reason1 betrayed the       
lurking tenderness of his heart4        
8,deliver yourself1  ,eloisa10 says he1 
8from the shameful remains of a passion 
which has  taken too deep root4         
,remember that the least thought for any
 other than  ,god is an adultery4 ,if   
you could see me here1 pale1 meagre1    
melancholy1  surrounded by a band of    
persecuting monks1 who feel my          
reputation for  learning as a reproach  
of their stupidity and ignorance1 my    
emaciated  figure as a slander on their 
gross and sensual corpulency1 and my    
prayers  as an example for their        
reformation1 what would you say to the  
unmanly  sighs1 and unavailing tears1 by

 which they are deceived8 ,alas6 ,i am  
bowed  down by the oppressive weight of 
love1 rather than contrition for past   
offences4 ,oh1 my ,eloisa1 pity me1 and 
endeavor to free my laboring soul  from 
its captivity6 ,if your vocation be1 as 
you say1 my wish1 deprive me  not of the
 merit of it by your continual          
inquietudes3 tell me that you  will     
honor the habit which covers you by an  
inward retirement4 ,fear ,god  that you 
may be delivered from your frailties4   
,love him1 if you would  advance in     
virtue4 ,be not uneasy in the cloister1 
for it is the dwelling  of saints2      
embrace your bands1 they are the chains 
of ,jesus1 and he  will lighten them1   
and bear with you1 if you bear them with
 humility  and repentance4 ,consider me 
no more1 ,i entreat you1 as a founder1  
or as  a person in any way deserving    
your esteem2 for your encomiums do but  
ill agree with the multiplying weakness 
of my heart4 ,i am a miserable  sinner1 
prostrate before my ,judge2 and when the

 rays of grace break on my  troubled    
soul1 ,i press the earth with my lips1  
and mingle my sighs and  tears in the   
dust4 ,couldest thou survey thy wretched
 lover thus lost and  forlorn1 thou     
wouldest no longer solicit his          
affection4 ,the tenderness of  thy heart
 would not permit thee to interpose an  
earthly passion1 which  can only tend to
 deprive him of all hopes of heavenly   
grace and future  comfort4 ,thou        
wouldest not wish to be the object of   
sighs and tears1  which ought to be     
directed to ,god alone4 ,canst thou1 my 
,eloisa1 become  the confederate of my  
evil genius1 and be the instrument to   
promote sin's  yet unfinished conquest8 
,what1 alas6 couldest thou not achieve  
with a  heart1 the weaknesses of which  
you so well know8 ,but1 oh6 let me      
conjure  you1 by all the sacred ties1 to
 forget for ever the wretched ,abelard1 
and  thereby contribute to his          
salvation4 ,let me entreat you by our   
former  joys1 and by our now common     

misfortunes1 not to abet my destruction4
 ,the  highest affection you can now    
show me1 is to hide your tenderness from
 my  view and to renounce me for ever4  
,oh1 ,eloisa6 be devoted to ,god alone2 
for ,i here release you from all        
engagements to me40    ,the conflict    
between love and religion tore the soul 
of ,eloisa with pangs  far more violent 
and destructive4 ,there is scarcely a   
line of her reply  to ,abelard1 that    
does not show the dangerous influence   
which solitude had  given to the        
concealed1 but unsmothered1 passion that
 glowed within her  breast4 8,veiled as 
,i am10 she exclaims1 8behold in what a 
disorder you  have plunged me6 ,how     
difficult it is to fight always for duty
 against  inclination6 ,i know the      
obligation which this sacred veil has   
imposed  on me2 but feel more strongly  
the power which a long and habitual     
passion has gained over my heart4 ,i am 
the victim of almighty love3 my  passion
 troubles my mind1 and disorders my     

senses4 ,my soul is sometimes           
influenced by the sentiments of piety   
which my reflections inspire1 but  the  
next moment ,i yield myself up to the   
tenderness of my feelings1  and to the  
suggestions of my affection4 ,my        
imagination riots with wild  excursion  
in the scenes of past delights4 ,i      
disclose to you one moment  what ,i     
would not have told you a moment before4
 ,i resolve no longer  to love you2 ,i  
consider the solemnity of the vow ,i    
have made1 and the  awfulness of the    
veil ,i have taken2 but there arises1   
unexpectedly1 from  the bottom of my    
heart1 a passion which triumphs over all
 these notions1  and1 while it darkens  
my reason1 destroys my devotion4 ,you   
reign in all  the close and inward      
retreats of my soul2 and ,i know not how
 nor where  to attack you with any      
prospect of success4 ,when ,i endeavor  
to break the  chains which bind me so   
closely to you1 ,i only deceive myself1 
and all  my efforts serve only to       

confirm my captivity1 and to rivet our  
hearts  more firmly to each other4 ,oh6 
for pity's sake1 comply with my request2
  and endeavor by this means1 to make me
 renounce my desires1 by showing  me the
 obligation ,i am under to renounce you4
 ,if you are still a lover1  or a       
father1 oh6 help a mistress1 and give   
comfort to the distraction  of an       
afflicted child4 ,surely these dear and 
tender names will excite  the emotion   
either of pity or of love4 ,gratify my  
request2 only continue  to write to me1 
and ,i shall continue to perform the    
hard duties of my  station without      
profaning that character which my love  
for you induced  me to assume4 ,under   
your advice and admonition ,i shall     
willingly humble  myself1 and submit    
with penitence and resignation to the   
wonderful  providence of ,god1 who does 
all things for our sanctification2 who1 
by  his grace purifies all that is      
vicious and corrupt in our natures2 and1
  by the inconceivable riches of his    

mercy1 draws us to himself against  our 
wishes1 and by degrees opens our eyes to
 discern the greatness of  that bounty  
which at first we are incapable of      
understanding4 ,virtue  is too amiable  
not to be embraced when you reveal her  
charms1 and vice  too hideous not to be 
avoided when you show her deformities4  
,when you  are pleased1 every thing     
seems lovely to me4 ,nothing is         
frightful  or difficult when you are by4
 ,i am only weak when ,i am alone1 and  
unsupported by you2 and therefore it    
depends on you alone that ,i may be     
such as you desire4 ,oh6 that you had   
not so powerful an influence over  all  
my soul6 ,it is your fears1 surely1 that
 make you thus deaf to my  entreaties1  
and negligent of my desires3 but what is
 there for you to  fear8 ,when we lived 
happily together you might have doubted 
whether it  was pleasure or affection   
that united me to you2 but the place    
from which  ,i now indite my            
lamentations must have removed that     

idea1 if it ever  could find a place in 
your mind4 ,even within these gloomy    
walls1 my heart  springs toward you with
 more affection than it felt1 if        
possible1 in the  gay and glittering    
world4 ,had pleasure been my guide1 the 
world would  have been the theatre of my
 joys4 ,two and twenty years only of my 
life  had worn away1 when the lover on  
whom my soul doated was cruelly torn    
from my arms2 and at that age female    
charms are not generally despised2  but1
 instead of seeking to indulge the      
pleasures of youth1 your ,eloisa1  when 
deprived of thee1 renounced the world1  
suppressed the emotions of  sense1 at a 
time when the pulses beat with the      
warmest ardor1 and buried  herself      
within the cold and cheerless region of 
the cloister4 ,to you she  consecrated  
the flower of her charms2 to you she now
 devotes the poor  remains of faded     
beauty2 and dedicates to heaven and to  
you1 her tedious  days and widowed      
nights in solitude and sorrow40    ,the 

passion1 alas6 which ,eloisa thus fondly
 nourished in her bosom1 like  an adder1
 to goad and sting her peace of mind1   
was very little of a  spiritual nature2 
and the walls of ,paraclete only        
re-echoed more fervent  sighs than she  
had before breathed1 and witnessed a    
more abundant flow  of tears than she   
had shed in the cells of ,argenteuil1   
over the memory  of departed joys with  
her beloved ,abelard4 ,her letters1     
indeed1 show  with what toilsome but    
ineffectual anxiety she endeavored to   
chasten her  mind1 and support her      
fainting virtue1 as well by her own     
reasoning and  reflection1 as by his    
counsels and exhortations2 but the      
passion had  tenaciously rooted itself  
at the very bottom of her heart2 and it 
was  not until the close of life that   
she was able to repress the transports  
of her imagination1 and subdue the wild 
sallies of her fond and fertile  fancy4 
,personally separated from each other1  
she indulged a notion that  her love    

could not be otherwise than pure and    
spiritual2 but there are  many parts of 
letters which show how much she was     
deceived by this idea2  for in all the  
fancied chastity of their tender and too
 ardent loves1        8,back thro' the  
pleasing maze of sense she ran1         
,and felt within the slave of love and  
man40    ,the wild and extravagant      
excesses to which the fancy and the     
feelings  of ,eloisa were carried1 was  
not occasioned merely by the warm       
impulses  of unchecked nature2 but were 
forced1 to the injury of virtue1 and the
  distraction of reason1 by the rank hot
 bed of monastic solitude4 ,the  story  
of these celebrated lovers1 when calmly 
examined1 and properly  understood1     
proves how dangerous it is to recede    
entirely from the  pleasures and        
occupations of social life1 and how     
deeply the imagination  may be          
corrupted1 and the passions inflamed1   
during a splenetic and  ill-prepared    
retirement from the world4 ,the frenzies

 which follow  disappointed love1 are of
 all others the most likely to settle   
into  habits of the deepest melancholy4 
,the finest sensibilities of the heart1 
the purest tenderness of the soul1 when 
joined with a warm constitution1  and an
 ardent imagination1 experience from    
interruption and control the  highest   
possible state of exasperation4         
,solitude confirms the feelings  such a 
situation creates2 and the passions and 
inclinations of a person  laboring under
 such impressions are more likely to be 
corrupted and  inflamed by the leisure  
of retirement1 than they would be even  
by  engaging in all the lazy opulence   
and wanton plenty of a debauched        
metropolis4    ,the affection which     
,petrarch entertained for ,laura was    
refined1 elevated1  and virtuous1 and   
differed1 in almost every ingredient of 
it1 from  the luxurious fondness of the 
unfortunate ,eloisa2 but circumstances  
separated him from the beloved object2  
and he labored during many years  of his

 life1 under the oppression of that     
grievous melancholy which               
disappointment uniformly inflicts4 ,he  
first beheld her as she was going  to   
the church of the monastery of ,st4     
,claire4 ,she was dressed in green1  and
 her gown was embroidered with violets4 
,her face1 her air1 her gait1  appeared 
something more than mortal4 ,her person 
was delicate1 her eyes  tender and      
sparkling1 and her eyebrows black as    
ebony4 ,golden locks waved  over her    
shoulders whiter than snow1 and the     
ringlets were woven by the  fingers of  
love4 ,her neck was well formed1 and her
 complexion animated  by the tints of   
nature1 which art vainly attempts to    
imitate4 ,when she  opened her mouth1   
you perceived the beauty of pearls1 and 
the sweetness  of roses4 ,she was full  
of graces4 ,nothing was so soft as her  
looks1 so  modest as her carriage1 so   
touching as the sound of her voice4 ,an 
air  of gayety and tenderness breathed  
around her2 but so pure and happily     

tempered1 as to inspire every beholder  
with the sentiments of virtue2  for she 
was chaste as the spangled dewdrop on   
the thorn4 ,such was the  description   
given of this divine creature by her    
enslaved lover4 ,but1  unfortunately for
 his happiness1 she was at this time    
married to ,hugues  de ,sade1 whose     
family was originally of ,avignon1 and  
held the first  offices there4          
,notwithstanding the sufferings he      
underwent from the  natural agitation of
 an affection so tender as that which   
now engrossed  his soul1 he owns that   
,laura behaved to him with kindness so  
long as he  concealed his passion2 but  
when she discovered that he was         
captivated  with her charms1 she treated
 him with great severity2 avoiding every
  place it was likely he would frequent1
 and concealing her face under a  large 
veil whenever they accidentally met4    
,the whole soul of ,petrarch was        
overthrown by this disastrous passion2  
and he felt all the visitation  of      

unfortunate love as grievously as if it 
had been founded upon less  virtuous    
principles4 ,he endeavored to calm and  
tranquillize the troubles  of his breast
 by retiring to the celebrated solitude 
of ,vaucluse1 a  place in which nature  
delighted to appear under a form the    
most singular  and romantic2 8,but1     
alas60 says he1 8,i knew not what ,i was
 doing4 ,the  resource was ill suited to
 the safety ,i sought4 ,solitude was    
incapable  of mitigating the severity of
 my sorrows4 ,the griefs that hung      
around  my heart1 consumed me like a    
devouring flame4 ,i had no means of     
flying  from their attacks4 ,i was      
alone1 without consolation1 and in the  
deepest  distress1 without even the     
counsel of a friend to assist me4       
,melancholy  and despair shot their     
poisoned arrows against my defenceless  
breast1 and  ,i filled the unsoothing   
and romantic vale with my sighs and     
lamentations4  ,the muse indeed1        
conveyed my sufferings to the world2 but

 while the poet  was praised1 the       
unhappy lover remained unpitied and     
forlorn40    ,the love which inspired   
the lays of ,petrarch was a pure and    
perfect  passion of the heart2 and his  
sufferings were rendered peculiarly     
poignant by a melancholy sense of the   
impossibility of ever being united  with
 the object of it2 but the love of      
,abelard and ,eloisa was a furious  heat
 of wild desire4 ,this passion flows    
clear or muddied1 peaceful or  violent1 
in proportion to the sources from which 
it springs4 ,when it  arises from pure  
and unpolluted sources1 its stream is   
clear1 peaceful1  and surrounded with   
delights3 but when its source is foul1  
and its  course improperly directed1 it 
foams and rages1 overswells its banks1  
and destroys the scenes which nature    
intended it to fertilize and adorn4     
,the different effects produced by the  
different kinds of this powerful        
passion1 have1 on observing how         
differently the character of the same   

person appears when influenced by the   
one or the other of them1 given  rise to
 an idea that the human species are     
possessed of two souls2 the  one leading
 to vice1 and the other conducting to   
virtue4 ,a celebrated  philosopher has  
illustrated this notion by the following
 story3    ,a virtuous young prince1 of 
an heroic soul1 capable of love and     
friendship1 made war upon a tyrant1 who 
was in every respect his reverse4  ,it  
was the happiness of our prince to be as
 great a conqueror by his  clemency and 
bounty1 as by his arms and military     
virtue4 ,already he had  won over to his
 party several potentates and princes1  
who had before  been subject to the     
tyrant4 ,among those who still adhered  
to the enemy  there was a prince1 who1  
having all the advantages of person and 
merit1  had lately been made happy in   
the possession and mutual love of the   
most  beautiful princess in the world4  
,it happened that the occasion of the   
war  called the new married prince to a 

distance from his beloved princess4  ,he
 left her secure as he thought1 in a    
strong castle1 far within the  country2 
but1 in his absence1 the place was taken
 by surprise1 and the  princess brought 
a captive to the quarters of the heroic 
prince4 ,there  was in the camp a young 
nobleman the favorite of the prince2 one
 who  had been educated with him1 and   
was still treated by him with perfect   
familiarity4 ,him he immediately sent   
for1 and with strict injunctions1       
committed the captive princess to his   
charge2 resolving she should be  treated
 with that respect which was due to her 
rank and merit4 ,it was the  same young 
lord who had discovered her disguised   
among the prisoners1  and learnt her    
story2 the particulars of which he now  
related to the  prince4 ,he spoke in    
ecstacy on this occasion2 telling the   
prince how  beautiful she appeared even 
in the midst of sorrow2 and though      
disguised  under the meanest habit1 yet 
how distinguished by her air and manner 

from  every other beauty of her sex4    
,but what appeared strange to our young 
nobleman was1 that the prince1 during   
this whole relation1 discovered  not the
 least intention of seeing the lady1 or 
satisfying that curiosity  which seemed 
so natural on such an occasion4 ,he     
pressed him1 but without  success4 8,not
 see her1 sir60 said he wondering1 8when
 she is so much  handsomer than any     
woman you have yet seen60 8,for that    
very reason10  replied the prince1 8,i  
would rather decline the interview2 for 
should ,i1  upon this bare report of her
 beauty1 be so charmed as to make the   
first  visit at this urgent time of     
business1 ,i may upon sight1 with better
  reason1 be induced1 perhaps1 to visit 
her when ,i am more at leisure2  and so 
again and again1 until at last ,i may   
have no leisure left for my  affairs40  
8,would you1 sir1 persuade me then10    
said the young nobleman1  smiling1 8that
 a fair face can have such power as to  
force the will  itself1 and constrain a 

man in any respect to act contrary to   
what he  thinks becoming him8 ,are we to
 hearken to the poets1 in what they tell
  us of that incendiary love and his    
irresistible flames8 ,a real flame1 we  
see1 burns all alike2 but that imaginary
 one of beauty hurts only those  that   
are consenting4 ,it affects no otherwise
 than as we ourselves are  pleased to   
allow it4 ,in many cases we absolutely  
command it1 as when  relation and       
consanguinity are in the nearest degree4
 ,authority and law  we see can master  
it2 but it would be vain1 as well as    
unjust1 for any  law to intermeddle or  
prescribe1 was not the case voluntary1  
and our  will entirely free40 8,how     
comes it then10 replied the prince1     
8that if  we are thus masters of our    
choice1 and free at first to admire and 
love  where we approve1 we cannot       
afterward as well cease to love whenever
 we  see cause8 ,this latter liberty you
 will hardly defend2 for ,i doubt not   
you have heard of many who1 though they 

were used to set the highest  value on  
liberty before they loved1 yet1         
afterward1 were necessitated  to serve  
in the most abject manner1 finding      
themselves constrained1  and bound by a 
stronger chain than any of iron or of   
adamant40 8,such  wretches10 replied the
 youth1 8,i have often heard complain1  
who1 if you  will believe them1 are     
wretched indeed1 without means or power 
to help  themselves4 ,you may hear them 
in the same manner complain grievously  
of  life itself2 but though there are   
doors enough at which to go out of      
life1 they find it convenient to keep   
still where they are4 ,they are the     
very same pretenders who1 through this  
plea of irresistible necessity1  make   
bold with what is another's1 and attempt
 unlawful beds2 but the law1  ,i        
perceive1 makes bold with them in its   
turn1 as with other invaders  of        
property4 ,neither is it your custom1   
sir1 to pardon such offences4  ,so that 
beauty itself1 you must allow1 is       

innocent and harmless1 and  cannot      
compel any one to do amiss4 ,the        
debauched compel themselves1 and        
unjustly charge their guilt on love4    
,they who are honest and just can       
admire and love whatever is beautiful1  
without offering at any thing  beyond   
what is allowed4 ,how then is it        
possible1 sir1 that one of your  virtue 
should be in pain on any such account1  
or fear such a temptation8  ,you see1   
sir1 ,i am sound and whole after having 
beheld the princess4 ,i  have conversed 
with her2 ,i have admired her in the    
highest degree2 yet  ,i am myself still1
 and in my duty1 and shall be ever in   
the same manner  at your command40 8,it 
is well10 replied the prince2 8keep     
yourself so3  be ever the same man1 and 
look to your fair charge carefully1 as  
becomes  you2 for it may so happen1 in  
the present situation of the war that   
this beautiful captive may stand us in  
good stead40 ,the young nobleman  then  
departed to execute his commission2 and 

immediately took such care  of the      
captive princess that she seemed as     
perfectly obeyed1 and had  every thing  
which belonged to her in as great       
splendor as in her own  principality1   
and in the height of her fortune4 ,he   
found her in every  respect deserving1  
and saw in her a generosity of soul     
exceeding even her  other charms4 ,his  
studies to oblige her and to soften her 
distress1 made  her1 in return1 desirous
 to express her gratitude4 ,he soon     
discovered the  feelings of her mind2   
for she showed1 on every occasion1 a    
real concern  for his interest2 and when
 he happened to fall ill1 she took such 
tender  care of him herself1 and by her 
servants1 that he seemed to owe his     
recovery entirely to her friendship4    
,from these beginnings1 insensibly1  and
 by natural degrees1 as may easily be   
conceived1 the youth fell  desperately  
in love4 ,at first he offered not to    
make the least mention  of his passion  
to the princess1 for he scarce dared    

believe it himself4  ,but time1 and the 
increasing ardor of his passion1 subdued
 his fears1  and she received his       
declaration with an unaffected trouble1 
and real  concern4 ,she reasoned with   
him as a friend1 and endeavored to      
persuade  him to subdue so improper and 
extravagant a flame4 ,but in a short    
time  he became outrageous1 and talked  
to her of force4 ,the princess was      
alarmed by his audacity1 and immediately
 sent to the prince to implore  his     
protection4 ,the prince received the    
information with the appearance  of more
 than ordinary attention2 sent instantly
 for one of his first  ministers1 and   
directed him to return with the         
princess' domestic1 and  tell the young 
nobleman that force was not to be used  
to such a lady2  but that he might use  
persuasion1 if he thought it was proper 
so to  do4 ,the minister1 who was of    
course the inveterate enemy of his      
prince's  favorite1 aggravated the      
message1 inveighed publicly against the 

young  nobleman for the grossness of his
 misconduct1 and even reproached him to 
his face with having been a traitor to  
the confidence of his prince1 and  a    
disgrace to his nation4 ,the minister1  
in short1 conveyed the message  of his  
master in such virulent and angry terms1
 that the youth looked on  his case as  
desperate2 fell into the deepest        
melancholy2 and prepared  himself for   
that fate which he was conscious he well
 deserved4 ,while he  was thus impressed
 with a sense of his misconduct1 and the
 danger to  which it had exposed him1   
the prince commanded him to attend a    
private  audience4 ,the youth entered   
the closet of the prince covered with   
the  deepest confusion4 8,i find10 said 
he1 8that ,i am now become dreadful to  
you indeed1 since you can neither see me
 without shame1 nor imagine me  to be   
without resentment4 ,but away with all  
these thoughts from this  time forward6 
,i know how much you have suffered on   
this occasion4 ,i know  the power of    

love2 and am no otherwise safe myself1  
than by keeping out  of the way of      
beauty4 ,i alone am to blame2 for it was
 ,i who unhappily  matched you with that
 unequal adversary2 who gave you that   
impracticable  task2 who imposed on you 
that hard adventure1 which no one yet   
was ever  strong enough to accomplish40 
8,in this1 sir1 as in all else10 replied
 the  youth1 8you express that goodness 
which is so natural to you4 ,you have   
compassion1 and can allow for human     
frailties2 but the rest of mankind  will
 never cease to upbraid me3 nor shall ,i
 ever be forgiven1 even were ,i  able   
ever to forgive myself4 ,i am reproached
 by my nearest friends2 and ,i  must be 
odious to all mankind wherever ,i am    
known4 ,the least punishment  ,i can    
think due to me is banishment for ever  
from your presence2 for ,i  am no longer
 worthy of being called your friend40   
8,you must not think of  banishing      
yourself for ever10 replied the prince3 
8but trust me1 if you  will retire only 

for a while1 ,i shall so order matters1 
that you shall  return with the applause
 even of those who are now your enemies1
 when  they find what a considerable    
service you shall have rendered both to 
them and me40 ,such a hint was          
sufficient to revive the spirits of the 
despairing youth4 ,he was transported to
 think that his misfortunes could  be   
turned in any way to the advantage of   
his prince4 ,he entered with  joy into  
the scheme his royal friend had         
contrived for the purpose of  restoring 
him to his former fame and happiness1   
and appeared eager to  depart and       
execute the directions that were given  
to him4 8,can you then10  said the      
prince1 8resolve to quit the charming   
princess80 8,o1 sir10  replied the      
youth1 with tears in his eyes1 8,i am   
now well satisfied that  ,i have in     
reality within me two distinct separate 
souls4 ,this lesson of  philosophy ,i   
have learnt from that villanous         
sophister love2 for it is  impossible to

 believe that1 having one and the same  
soul1 it should be  actually both good  
and bad2 passionate for virtue and vice1
 desirous of  contraries4 ,no2 there    
must of necessity be two2 and when the  
good soul  prevails1 we are happy2 but  
when the bad prevails1 we are miserable4
 ,such  was my case4 ,lately the ill    
soul was wholly master1 and ,i was      
miserable2  but now the good prevails1  
by your assistance1 and ,i am plainly a 
new  creature1 with quite another       
apprehension1 another reason1 and       
another  will40    ,he who would be     
master of his appetites1 must not only  
avoid temptation1  but vigilantly       
restrain the earliest shoots of fancy1  
and destroy the  first blooms of a warm 
imagination4 ,it is the very nature of  
confidence  to be always in danger4 ,to 
permit the mind to riot in scenes of    
fancied  delights1 under an idea that   
reason will be able to extinguish the   
flames of desire1 is to nurse and foster
 the sensual appetites1 which1  when    

guided by the cool and temperate voice  
of nature alone1 are seldom  raised to  
an improper height4 ,the natural current
 of the blood1 even in  the warmest     
constitutions1 and under the most torrid
 zone1 would keep an  even1 temperate   
course1 were it not accelerated by such 
incentives4 ,youth  indeed despises this
 species of reasoning1 and imputes it to
 the sickness  of satiety1 or the       
coldness of old age4 ,i have1 however1  
in general1  observed1 that those who   
seek these incitements to what they     
improperly  call love1 possess a rayless
 eye1 a hollow cheek1 a palsied hand1 a 
pallid countenance2 and these symptoms  
of faded splendour and withered         
strength1 unquestionably prove that they
 have not consulted nature in  their gay
 pursuits2 for nature has not planted   
any propensities in the  human frame    
which lead it to early ruin1 or         
premature decay4 ,the blame  which is so
 unjustly thrown upon temperament and   
constitution1 belongs  to the indulgence

 of false and clamorous passions1 those 
which sensual  fancies1 and lascivious  
ideas have raised to the destruction of 
chastity  and health4    ,monastic      
institutions produce1 in this respect1  
incalculable mischiefs4  ,the sexes1    
whom these religious prisons seclude    
from the free and  unconfined           
intercourses of society1 suffer their   
imaginations to riot  without restraint 
or discipline1 in proportion to the     
violence imposed  on their actions4 ,a  
thousand boyish fancies1 eager appetites
 and warm  desires1 are perpetually     
playing truant1 and the chastity of the 
soul  is corrupted4 ,to effect the      
conquest of the passion of love1 it is  
absolutely necessary that the evil      
suggestions of the imagination should   
be first silenced2 and he who succeeds  
in quelling the insurrections  of that  
turbulent inmate1 or in quieting its    
commotions1 achieves an  enterprise at  
once difficult and glorious4 ,the holy  
,jerome checked the  progress of many   

disorderly passions which he found      
rising in his breast2  but the passion  
of love resisted all his opposition1 and
 followed him1  with increasing fury1   
even into the frightful cavern to which 
he retired  to implore1 in humble prayer
 and solitary abstraction1 the mercies  
of  his ,god4 ,the solitude1 however    
remote1 to which the demon of sensuality
  is admitted1 is soon crowded with     
legions of tormenting fiends4 ,john1    
the anchorite of the deserts of         
,thebais1 wisely addressed his solitary 
brethren1 8,if there be any among you   
who in his pride1 conceives that  he has
 entirely renounced the devil and all   
his works1 he should learn  that it is  
not sufficient to have done this merely 
by his lips1 by having  resigned his    
worldly dignities1 and by dividing his  
possessions among  the poor2 for1 unless
 he has also abandoned his sensual      
appetites1 his  salvation cannot be     
secure4 ,it is only by purifying our    
bosoms from the  pernicious influence of

 this master passion1 that we can ever  
hope to  counteract the machinations of 
satan1 and to guard our hearts from his 
dangerous practices4 ,sin always        
introduces itself under the guidance  of
 some guilty passion2 some fond desire2 
some pleasing inclination1  which we    
willingly indulge1 and by that means    
suffer the enemy of peace  to establish 
his unruly dominion in our souls4 ,then 
tranquillity and  real happiness quit   
their abode in our hearts1 and all is   
uproar and  anarchy within4 ,this must  
be the fate of all who permit an evil   
spirit  to seat itself on the throne of 
their hearts1 and to scatter around  the
 poisonous seeds of wild desire and     
vicious inclinations40 ,but love  once  
indulged in bright and rapturous        
fancies1 fills the mind with  such high 
and transporting ideas of supreme bliss1
 that the powers  of reason are seldom1 
if ever1 capable of making head against 
its  fascinations4 ,the hermit and the  
monk1 who1 from the nature of their     

situations1 cannot taste its real       
charms1 ought1 if it were for that      
reason alone1 to stifle at their birth  
the earliest emotions of this  inspiring
 passion2 for the indulgence of it must 
prove fatal to the  virtue1 and of      
course destructive to the peace of every
 recluse4 ,the  impossibility that such 
characters can listen with any propriety
 to  the dictates of this delightful    
passion1 shows in the strongest manner  
the impolicy and absurdity of those     
institutions1 on the members of  which  
celibacy is enjoined4 ,the happiness of 
every individual1 as well  as the civil 
and religious interests of society1 are 
best promoted by  inducing the          
endearments of sense to improve the     
sympathies1 tenderness1  and affections 
of the human heart4 ,but these blessings
 are denied to  the solitary fanatic1   
who is condemned to endure the          
suppression of  his passions1 and       
prevented from indulging without        
endangering his  principles1 both the   

desires of sense1 and the dreams of     
fancy4 ,he  cannot form that delightful 
union of the sexes1 where sentiments of 
admiration are increased by prospects of
 personal advantage2 where  private     
enjoyment arises from a sense of mutual 
merit2 and the warmest  beams of love   
are tempered by the refreshing gales of 
friendship4 ,the  grosser parts of this 
innate and glowing passion can alone    
occupy his  fancy2 and the sentiments it
 instils1 instead of refining his       
desires1  and meliorating his           
affections1 tend1 through the operation 
of his soul  and corrupted imagination1 
to render his appetites still more      
depraved4  ,he is as ignorant of its    
benefits as he is of its chaste and     
dignified  pleasures2 and totally       
unacquainted with its fine              
sensibilities1 and  varied emotions1 his
 bosom burns with the most violent rage2
 his mind  wallows in images of         
sensuality2 and his temper frets itself1
 by unjustly  accusing the tempter as   

the author of his misery4 ,if the       
luxurious  cogitations of such a        
character were dissipated by the        
pleasures and  pursuits of busy life2 if
 the violence of his passions were      
checked by  laborious exercises2 and if 
habits of rational study enabled him to 
vary  the uniformity of retirement1 and 
to substitute the excursions of mental  
curiosity1 and moral reflections1       
instead of that perpetual recurrence  of
 animal desire by which he is infected1 
the danger we have described  would     
certainly be reduced2 but without such  
aids1 his self-denials1 his  penitence1 
his prayers1 and all the austere        
discipline of the monkish  and ascetic  
school1 will be ineffectual4 ,celibacy1 
indeed1 instead of  assisting1 as their 
disciples mistakingly conceive1 to clear
 the soul  from its earthly impurities1 
and to raise it to divine brightness and
  sublimity1 drags it down to the basest
 appetites and lowest desires4  ,but    
matrimony1 or that suitable and         

appropriate union of the sexes  which   
prevails under different circumstances1 
according to the manner  and custom of  
different societies1 leads1 when        
properly formed1 to the  highest goal of
 human bliss4    ,the mischievous       
effects which the celibacy and solitude 
of monastic  institutions produce on    
that passion which arises so            
spontaneously  between the sexes in the 
human heart1 will appear unavoidable1   
when it  is considered how absurdly the 
founders of these religious retreats    
have  frequently endeavored to guard    
against the danger4 ,the partitions     
which  divide virtues from their        
opposite vices are so slender and       
conjoined1  that we scarcely reach the  
limits of the one before we enter to a  
certain  degree1 the confines of the    
other4 ,how ridiculous1 therefore1 is it
  to conceive1 that frequent meditation 
on forbidden pleasures1 should  be at   
all likely to eradicate impure ideas    
from the mind4 ,and yet the  ,egyptian  

monastics were enjoined to have these   
rules constantly in their               
contemplation3 first1 that their bosoms 
must remain unagitated by the  thoughts 
of love2 that they should never permit  
their fancies to loiter  on voluptuous  
images2 that female beauty1 in its      
fairest form1 and most  glowing charms1 
should be incapable of exciting in their
 hearts the least  sensation2 and that1 
even during the hours of sleep1 their   
minds should  continue untainted by such
 impure affections4 ,the chastity of    
these  solitary beings was1 on some     
occasions1 actually tried by experiment2
 but  the consequences which resulted   
from such irrational discipline1 were   
directly the reverse of those it was    
intended to produce4 ,the imagination   
was vitiated1 and the inclination       
rendered so corrupt1 that neither  the  
examples nor the precepts of the more   
enlightened ages were able  to correct  
their manners1 or reclaim them from the 
machinations of the  unclean spirit4    

,numberless indeed1 and horrid1 are the 
instances recorded  by ,ruffinus1 and   
other writers1 of the perversions of all
 sense and  reason1 of all delicacy and 
refinement1 of all virtue and true      
holiness1  which prevailed in the       
ascetic solitudes of every description1 
while the  nuptial state was held       
incompatible with the duties of         
religion1 and the  sexes separated from 
each other1 that they might more        
piously1 and with  less interruption1   
follow its dictates4 ,some of the       
fathers of the church  defined female   
celibacy to be the only means of living 
a chaste and godly  life amidst the     
impurities of a sinful world1 and       
regaining1 during the  perdition of     
gross mortality1 the resemblance of the 
soul's celestial  origin4 ,the holy1    
happy tie of matrimony they considered  
as a cloak to  the indulgence of impure 
desires1 and launched their anathemas   
against it  as an hateful institution4  
,even the eloquent and pious ,chrysostom

 says1  8that a double purpose was      
intended to be attained by the          
institution of  marriage1 viz4 the      
propagation of the species1 and the     
gratification  of sexual affection2 but 
that1 as population had sufficiently    
covered  the face of the earth1 the     
first had become no longer necessary2   
and  that it was the duty of the sexes  
rather to conquer their affections  by  
abstinence and prayer1 than indulge them
 under so thin a disguise40  ,the human 
soul1 he admits1 must1 in a state of    
celibacy1 subsist under  a perpetual    
warfare and the faculties be in         
continual ferment2 but  contends1 that  
piety exists in proportion to the       
difficulties which the  sufferer        
surmounts4 ,the holy fathers seem1 from 
the whole strain of  their exhortations 
and reasonings1 to have considered      
female chastity  in a very serious point
 of view2 and there can be no doubt but 
that it  is the brightest jewel and most
 becoming ornament of the sex2 but these

  reverend teachers were so blinded by  
their zeal1 that they lost all  sight of
 nature1 and mistakingly conceived that 
the ,great ,creator had  planted        
affections in our hearts1 and passions  
in our breasts1 only to  try our tempers
 in suppressing their turbulence1 rather
 than promote  our happiness1 and to    
answer the ends of his creation1 by a   
sober and  rational indulgence of them4 
,but nature will not be argued out of   
her rights2 and these absurd  doctrines 
introduced into every monastic          
institution throughout ,europe  a       
private intercourse1 hostile1 from its  
evil example to the interests  both of  
morality and religion4 ,the nuns of the 
convent of ,argenteuil1  who chose      
,eloisa for their ,abbess1 were in all  
probability1 influenced  in their choice
 by the recollections of her former     
frailty1 and their  knowledge of the    
present ruling passion of her heart2    
they meant to  provide the abbey with a 
superior who1 if she were not inclined  

to  promote1 would feel no disposition  
to interrupt their intrigues4 ,the fact 
certainly was1 that during the time     
,eloisa presided over the convent1  the 
conduct of the nuns was so extremely    
licentious1 that ,sugger1 abbot  of ,st4
 ,dennis1 complained of their           
irregularities to ,pope ,honorius1 in   
such a manner as to induce his holiness 
to give the abbot possession of  it2 and
 he immediately expelled the negligent  
prioress and her intriguing  sisters1   
and established in their place a        
monastery of his own order4  ,strong    
suspicions may1 perhaps1 prevail against
 the virtue and integrity  of ,eloisa's 
character1 from the dissoluteness which 
existed in this  society2 but she was   
certainly not included by name in the   
articles of  accusation which the abbot 
of ,st4 ,dennis transmitted upon this   
subject  to the court of ,rome2 and     
there is every reason to believe that   
these  irregularities were carefully    
concealed from her knowledge4 ,when this

  lovely victim was presented with the  
veil1 some persons who pitied her       
youth1 and admired her beauty1          
represented to her the cruel sacrifice  
she  would make of herself by accepting 
it3 but she immediately exclaimed1 in   
the words of ,cornelia1 after the death 
of ,pompey the great--        8,oh my   
loved lord6 our fatal marriage draws    
,on thee this doom1 and ,i the guilty   
cause3      ,then while thou go'st th'  
extremes of fate to prove1      ,i'll   
share that fate1 and expiate thus my    
love60    and accepted the fatal present
 with a constancy not to have been      
expected  in a woman who had so high a  
taste for pleasures which she might     
still  enjoy4 ,it will therefore1 be    
easily conceived1 that her distress1 on 
being ignominiously expelled from this  
retreat1 was exceedingly severe4  ,she  
applied to ,abelard to procure her some 
permanent asylum1 where  she might have 
the opportunity of estranging herself   
from all earthly  weaknesses and        

passions2 and he1 by the permission of  
the bishop of  ,troyes1 resigned to her 
the house and the chapel of ,paraclete1 
with its  appendages1 where she settled 
with a few sisters1 and became herself  
the  foundress of a nunnery4 ,of this   
monastery she continued the superior    
until she died2 and whatever her conduct
 was among the licentious nuns of       
,argenteuil1 she lived so regular in    
this her new and last retreat1 and      
conducted herself with such exemplary   
prudence1 zeal1 and piety1 that all  her
 former failings were forgot1 her       
character adored by all who knew  her1  
and her monastery in a short time       
enriched with so great a variety  of    
donations1 that she was celebrated as   
the ablest cultivator of the  virtues of
 forgiveness and ,christian charity then
 existing4 ,the bishop  of the district 
behaved to her as if she had been his   
own daughter2 the  neighboring priors   
and abbots treated her with all the     
tenderness and  attention of a real     

sister3 and those who were distressed   
and poor1  revered her as their mother4 
,but all her cares1 and all her virtues1
  could not protect her against the     
returning weakness of her heart4        
8,solitude10 says she1 8is insupportable
 to a mind that is ill at ease2  its    
troubles increase in the midst of       
silence1 and retirement heightens  them4
 ,since ,i have been shut up within     
these walls1 ,i have done nothing  but  
weep for our misfortunes3 this cloister 
has resounded with my cries1  and like a
 wretch condemned to eternal slavery1 ,i
 have worn out my days  in grief and    
sighing40    ,the useful regulations    
imposed by the wisdom of ,st4 ,benedict 
upon the  votaries of monastic          
retirement1 were soon neglected4        
,abstinence and  prayer were succeeded  
by luxury and impiety4 ,the revenues of 
the several  orders had1 by the         
increased value of property1 become so  
great1 that  they were expended in      
purchasing a remission of those duties  

which  their founders had enjoined4 ,the
 admission of the poor laity relieved   
the initiated members from the toil of  
cultivating the demesne lands1  and     
produced a system of indolence and      
laziness4 ,they exchanged their  long   
fast and unsavory diet1 for frequent    
feasts1 and the richest  repasts2       
substituted indolent pride for laborious
 humility2 and lost  entirely their     
original piety and virtue4 ,abelard1    
indeed1 and some few  other abbots of   
the tenth century1 endeavored to restore
 the ancient  discipline1 but they were 
reviled and persecuted with the most    
vindictive  malice by their             
contemporaries4 ,the duke of ,brittany1 
in order to secure  ,abelard from the   
rage with which he was pursued1 for     
exercising qualities  which ought to    
have procured him admiration and esteem1
 gave him the  convent of ,st4 ,gildas1 
as an asylum from their hatred4 ,the    
high character  which this monastery    
comparatively enjoyed for regularity and

 good  order1 excited a hope that he    
might there find rest from his          
vexations1  and consolation for his     
griefs4 ,but instead of finding it the  
seat of  wisdom and piety1 and the      
mansion of tranquillity1 he discovered  
the  most dissolute manners and         
abandoned conduct prevailing in every   
part of  the convent4 ,his mild and     
rational attempts to reclaim these      
disorderly  brethren1 were so far from  
producing the desired effect upon their 
minds1  that it only provoked their     
rage1 and gave new edge to their malice4
  ,foiled in their endeavors1 by        
conspiracy and calumny1 to dispossess   
him  of his situation1 they attempted1  
several times at their common repasts1  
to infuse poison into his victuals3 and 
at length1 dreadful to relate6  actually
 administered1 in the sacramental cup1  
the poisoned chalice to  his lips1 but  
which he was miraculously prevented from
 tasting4 ,it is1  indeed1 impossible to
 read the description he has given of   

his dreadful  situation in this wild and
 savage community1 without shuddering at
 the  idea how much an irrational       
solitude tends to corrupt the manners   
and  deprave the heart4 8,i live10 says 
he1 in his letter to ,philintus1 8in a  
barbarous country1 the language of which
 ,i do not understand4 ,i have no       
conversation but with the rudest people4
 ,my walks are on the inaccessible      
shore of a sea which is perpetually     
stormy4 ,my monks are only known by     
their dissoluteness1 and living without 
any rule or order4 ,ah6 ,philintus1     
were you to see my habitation1 you would
 rather think it a slaughter  house than
 a convent4 ,the doors and walks are    
without any ornament except  the heads  
of wild boars1 the antlers of stags1 the
 feet of foxes and the  hides of other  
animals1 which are nailed up against    
them4 ,the cells are  hung with the     
skins of victims destroyed in the chase4
 ,the monks have not  so much as a bell 
to wake them1 and are only roused from  

their drowsiness  by the howling of dogs
 and the croaking of ravens4 ,nothing   
disturbs  their laziness or languor but 
the rude noises of hunting2 and their   
only  alternatives are riot and rest4   
,but ,i should return my thanks to      
heaven  if that were their only fault4  
,i endeavor in vain to recall them to   
their  duty2 they all combine against   
me2 and ,i only expose myself to        
continual  vexations and dangers4 ,i    
imagine ,i see every moment a naked     
sword hanging  over my head4 ,sometimes 
they surround me1 and load me with the  
vilest  abuse2 and even when they       
abandon me1 ,i am still left to my own  
dreadful  tormenting thoughts40 ,this   
single example would be sufficient to   
prove  the extraordinary dominion which 
solitude has over the human mind4 ,it   
is1 indeed1 unless it be managed with   
great good sense1 the complete  nursery 
of mischief4 ,the mind is without those 
numerous incentives to  action which are
 continually occurring in the busy      

world2 and nothing  can contribute to   
produce irregular and disorderly        
passions more than  the want of some    
pursuit by which the heart is interested
 and the mind  employed4 ,the minds of  
idle persons are always restless2 their 
hearts  never at perfect ease2 their    
spirits continually on the fret2 and    
their  passions goaded to the most      
unwarrantable excess4    ,idleness1 even
 in social life1 inflicts the severest  
torments on the  soul2 destroys the     
repose of individuals2 and1 when        
general1 frequently  endangers the      
safety of the state4 ,timotheus1 an     
,egyptian monk1 surnamed  the ,cat1 a   
short time after the ,eutychian         
,controversy1 in the year  #deg1 felt an
 ambition to fill the episcopal and     
patriarchal chair4  ,the splenetic      
restlessness which prevailed among the  
monks in their  several monastic        
solitudes1 seemed to present to his     
observing eye  proper instruments for   
the execution of his scheme4 ,he was    

conscious1  from his profound knowledge 
of the human character1 that if men who 
had so long remained in uneasy and      
dissatisfied indolence1 could be        
provoked to activity1 their zeal would  
be as turbulent as their former  life   
had been lazy and supine2 and that their
 dispositions might be  easily turned to
 the accomplishment of his wishes4 ,the 
better to effect  his purpose1 he       
clothed himself in a white garment1     
crept silently in  the dead of night to 
the cells of his companions1 and1       
through a tube1  which concealed his    
voice while it magnified the sound of   
it1 hailed  every monk by his name4 ,the
 sound seemed to convey the voice of    
heaven  to the superstitious ears of the
 awakened auditors2 and the sagacious   
and enterprising trumpeter did not fail 
to announce himself as an  ambassador of
 heaven1 sent in the name of the        
,almighty to command the  monks to      
assemble immediately1 to consult on the 
most likely mode of  deposing the       

,nestorian heretic ,proterus1 and of    
raising the favored  and orthodox       
,timotheus to the episcopal throne4 ,the
 idea of being thus  elected to execute 
this pious rebellion1 roused all the    
sleeping powers  of these solitary and  
hitherto idle fanatics2 they rose       
tumultuously  at the sacred signal2     
proclaimed him as a heaven elected      
patriarch2  solicited him with friendly 
violence1 not to refuse the promised    
boon2  and burning with all the ardor of
 expected success1 marched1 in a  few   
days under the banner of the imposter1  
to ,alexandria1 where they  inspired the
 members of other monasteries with their
 own delusion1 and  created throughout  
,egypt the wildest and most tremendous  
commotions4  ,the populace caught the   
religious frenzy1 and joined in vast    
numbers the  monastic rout4 ,assisted by
 this desperate rabble1 ,timotheus      
proceeded  to the principal church of   
,alexandria1 where he was1 by a         
preconcerted  arrangement1 pompously    

received by two deposed bishops1 and    
ordained the  metropolitan of the whole 
,egyptian territory4 ,proterus was      
astonished  at this sudden irruption1   
and hurled his anathemas with great art 
and  dexterity against the impious      
audacity of the obscure monastic who had
  thus dared to depart from the humility
 of his station1 and to invade  with his
 indolent brethren1 the rights of       
sovereignty2 but being well  aware of   
the fury with which this description of 
men generally act when  they are once   
set in motion1 and being informed of the
 vast multitude by  which they had been 
joined1 he thought it prudent to quit   
his palace1 and  to retire to the sacred
 shelter of the church of ,st4          
,quirinus4 ,heathens  and barbarians had
 heretofore respected this venerable    
sanctuary2 but1  upon the present       
occasion1 it was incapable of giving    
safety to its aged  refugee4 ,the       
furious troops of the holy imposter     
burst with irresistible  violence       

through the walls of this consecrated   
edifice1 and with their  daggers drank  
the blood of the innocent pontiff1 even 
upon that altar1  the very sight of     
which ought to have paralyzed the hand  
of guilt4 ,his  surrounding and numerous
 friends1 particularly six ecclesiastics
 of  great eminence1 learning1 and      
piety1 shared the fate of their unhappy 
master1 and were found1 when the        
dreadful massacre was over1 clinging    
with fondness1 in the arms of death1    
round his mangled body4 ,but it was     
necessary for the murderers to          
calumniate the purity of that life which
  they had thus violently and           
injuriously destroyed4 ,they accordingly
  dragged the corpse of this virtuous   
patriarch to the most public part  of   
the city1 and1 after the grossest abuse 
of his character1 and most  scandalous  
misrepresentation of his conduct1 hung  
it on an elevated  cross1 and exposed it
 to the brutal insults of the misguided 
and deluded  populace4 ,to complete this

 unmanly outrage1 they at length        
committed the  torn and mangled remains 
of this excellent prelate to the flames1
 and  hurled his ashes1 amidst the most 
opprobrious and insulting epithets1     
into the darkened air2 exclaiming with  
horrid imprecations1 that the  mortal   
part of such a wretch was not entitled  
to the right of sepulchre1  or even the 
tears of friends4 ,so furious and       
undaunted1 indeed1 were  all the        
oriental monks1 when once roused from   
their monastic lethargy1  that even the 
soldiers of the ,greek emperors         
cautiously avoided meeting  them in the 
field4 ,the fury by which they were     
actuated was so blind1  that the pious  
,chrysostom1 the warmest and most       
zealous advocate for  monastic          
institutions1 trembled at his approach4 
,this celebrated father  of the church  
was born in the year #cdd1 of one of the
 first families of  the city of         
,antioch1 and added new lustre to their 
fame by his virtues  and his eloquence4 

,having finished his studies with       
wonderful success1  under ,libanus1 the 
greatest rhetorician of the age1 he     
devoted himself to  the study of the    
law2 but religion having planted itself 
deeply in his  mind1 he quitted all     
secular concerns1 and retired into      
solitude among  the mountains in the    
vicinity of the city1 where1 in the     
dreary caves1 he  devoted two entire    
years to penitence and prayer4 ,ill     
health1 however1  obliged him to return 
to ,antioch2 he began to preach the     
,word1 and was  soon followed by a host 
of disciples4 ,the life of this         
excellent pastor  was an example to his 
whole flock4 ,he endeavored to drive    
away the wolves  from the folds1 and    
sent missionaries even into ,scythia1 to
 convert its  inhabitants to            
,christianity4 ,these missions1 and his 
various charities1  required either     
considerable revenues or the most rigid 
economy2 and  the holy patriarch was    
contented to live in the extremest      

poverty1 that  he might have the better 
opportunity of relieving the sufferings 
of his  fellow creatures4 ,the character
 and conduct of this virtuous pontiff   
soon  gained him the hearts of his      
people1 and he set himself earnestly to 
reform the many abuses which at this    
time prevailed at ,constantinople4  ,the
 severity and vehemence1 however1 with  
which he declaimed against  the pride1  
the luxury1 and the rapacity of the     
great2 the zeal with  which he          
endeavored to reform the vices and      
misconduct of the clergy2  and the      
eagerness he discovered for the         
conversion of heretics1 created  him a  
multitude of enemies2 and ,eutropius1   
the favorite of the ,emperor  ,arcadius2
 ,gainas1 the tyrant to whom he had     
refused protection for the  ,arians2    
,theophilus1 of ,alexandria1 the patron 
of the ,origenists2 and  the disciples  
of ,arius1 whom he banished from        
,constantinople1 entered  into a        
conspiracy against him2 and an occasion 

soon happened1 which gave  them the     
opportunity of taking ample vengeance4  
,the intrepid preacher1  convinced that 
while he declaimed against vice in      
general1 the peculiar  vices which      
prevailed in the court of the ,empress  
,eudoxia1 and the  personal misconduct  
of the ,empress herself1 called aloud   
for his severest  animadversions1 he    
took every opportunity of exposing them 
to the public  abhorrence4 ,the         
resentment of the court encouraged the  
discontent of  the clergy and monks of  
,constantinople1 who had been very      
severely  disciplined by the zeal of the
 archbishop4 ,he had condemned from the 
pulpit the domestic females of the      
clergy of ,constantinople1 who1 under   
the name of servants or sisters1        
afforded a perpetual occasion either  of
 sin or scandal4 ,the silent and        
solitary ascetics1 who had secluded     
themselves from the world1 were entitled
 to the warmest appprobation of         
,chrysostom2 but he despised and        

stigmatized1 as the disgrace of their   
holy profession1 the crowd of degenerate
 monks1 who from some unworthy  motives 
of pleasure or profit1 so frequently    
infested the streets of the  metropolis4
 ,to the voice of persuasion1 the       
archbishop was obliged to  add the      
lesson of authority2 and in his         
visitation through the ,asiatic         
provinces1 he deposed thirteen bishops  
of ,lydia and ,phrygia2 and declared    
that a deep corruption of simony and    
licentiousness had infected the  whole  
episcopal order4 ,these bishops also    
entered into the confederacy  above     
mentioned1 and the excellent ,chrysostom
 was studiously represented  as the     
intolerable tyrant of the eastern       
church4 ,this ecclesiastical  conspiracy
 was managed by the archbishop of       
,alexandria1 who1 by the  invitation of 
,eudoxia1 landed at ,constantinople with
 a stout body of  ,egyptian mariners1 to
 encounter the populace1 and a train of 
dependant  bishops1 to secure1 by their 

voices1 a majority of a synod4 ,the     
synod  was convened in the suburbs of   
,chalcedon1 and was called the ,oak2 in 
which ,chrysostom1 was accused of       
treason against the empress2 rudely     
arrested1 and driven into exile2 from   
whence1 however1 he was in two  days    
recalled2 but1 upon a repetition of his 
imputed offences1 was again  banished to
 the remote and desolate town of        
,cucusus among the ridges  of mount     
,taurus1 in the ,lesser ,armenia4 ,on   
his way to this place1 he  was detained 
by sickness at ,cesarea1 and at length  
confined to his bed4  ,the bishop of    
,cesarea1 who had long entertained a    
secret enmity against  him1 unmoved by  
his fallen fortunes and helpless state1 
stirred up the  lazy monks of the       
surrounding monasteries to vengeance    
against him4 ,the  fury with which they 
issued from their respective cells was  
incredible2  like the sleeping powder of
 the present age1 they burst into       
immediate  conflagration and explosion  

at the touch of that hand by which they 
were  fired1 and directing their heated 
animosity against the dying ,chrysostom1
  surrounded his house and threatened1  
that if he did not immediately  depart1 
they would involve it in flames1 and    
bury him in its ruins4 ,the  soldiers of
 the garrison were called out to protect
 the life of this  virtuous             
ecclesiastic2 and1 on their arrival at  
the scene of action1  very courteously  
requested the enraged monks to be quiet 
and depart2 but  the request was treated
 with contempt and defiance2 and it was 
by the  humane resolution of ,chrysostom
 himself that this tumult was quelled2  
for1 rather than the blood of his fellow
 creatures should be shed on  his       
account1 he desired a litter might be   
procured1 into which1 in his  almost    
expiring state1 he was roughly laid1    
and1 by his departure from  the city1   
escaped the fury which thus assailed his
 life4 ,it is evident1  from these      
facts1 that the irrational solitude of  

monastic institutions1  particularly    
that which prevailed in the early ages  
of ,christianity  in the eastern parts  
of the converted world1 instead of      
rendering the  votaries of it mild1     
complacent and humane1 filled their     
minds with the  wildest notions1 and the
 most uncharitable and acrimonious      
passions1  and fostered in their hearts 
the most dangerous and destructive      
vices4  ,it is truly said1 by a very    
elegant writer and profound observer of 
men  and manners1 that monastic         
institutions unavoidably contract and   
fetter  the human mind2 that the partial
 attachment of a monk to the interest of
  his order1 which is often incompatible
 with that of other citizens1 the  habit
 of implicit obedience to the will of a 
superior1 together with the  frequent   
return of the wearisome and frivolous   
duties of the cloister1  debase his     
faculties1 and extinguish that          
generosity of sentiment and  spirit     
which qualifies men for thinking and    

feeling justly1 with respect  to what is
 proper in life and conduct2 and that   
father ,paul of ,venice  was1 perhaps1  
the only person educated in a cloister1 
that ever was  altogether superior to   
its prejudices1 or who viewed the       
transactions of  men1 and reasoned      
concerning the interests of society1    
with the enlarged  sentiments of a      
philosopher1 with the discernment of a  
man conversant  in affairs1 and with the
 liberality of a gentleman4 ,depraved1  
however1  as this order of men has ever 
been1 it was to their prayers and masses
  that all the princes and potentates of
 more than half the discovered  regions 
of the earth confided their salvation1  
and expected from their  intercession1  
divine favor from the fountain of all   
goodness and truth4  ,but the fears     
which these artful and intriguing       
ecclesiastics raised  in the weak or    
guilty minds of their contemporaries1   
instead of being  quieted by the        
conciliatory and comforting doctrines of

 the gospel of  ,christ1 were converted 
to the purposes of their own sordid     
avarice1 and  made subservient to the   
enjoyment of their vices1 and the       
advancement  of their power4 ,they      
inculcated the notion1 that the surest  
passport to  eternal bliss was to       
overwhelm them with riches1 and to      
indulge them with  extraordinary        
privileges2 and every haughty noble1 or 
despotic sovereign1  who was anxious to 
gratify his own wanton pleasures1 and   
capricious  vices1 at the expense of his
 people's prosperity and happiness1     
endeavored to reconcile himself to his  
offended ,god1 by bribing these         
ambitious and greedy monastics to grant 
them absolution for their deepest       
crimes4 ,their history exhibits1 in full
 view1 the melancholy truth1 that  their
 hearts were corrupted by the worst     
passions that disgrace humanity1  and   
that the discipline of the convent was  
seldom productive of a single  virtue4  
,enthusiasts1 indeed1 of every          

description1 whose sentiments  and      
feelings are continually at war with the
 dictates of nature1 and  who renounce  
all the pleasing sympathies1 gentle     
endearments1 kind  connexions1 and      
rational enjoyments of life1 are not    
likely to entertain  any great anxiety  
for the interest or happiness of others1
 or to feel the  least commiseration for
 their sorrows4 ,occupied by sordid and 
selfish  pursuits1 they must hate and   
despise a society1 to the lively        
enjoyments  of which they look back with
 such keen regret4 ,when the mind1 alas6
 has  numbed its sense of social joys1  
and become a stranger to the delightful 
charms of sweet domestic love2 when all 
affection for the world and  its        
concerns has been studiously expelled   
from the bosom1 and no kind  feeling or 
social inclination suffered to fill the 
vacant heart2 when  man has separated   
himself from his species1 and has not   
united his soul  with his ,creator1 he  
has lost all power of being happy       

himself1 or of  communicating happiness 
to others4    ,the bishop exceeded the  
inferior clergy in every kind of        
profligacy1  as much as in opulence and 
power2 and1 of course1 their            
superintending  and visitorial authority
 was not exerted to lessen or restrain  
the  prevalence of those vices which    
their evil example contributed so       
greatly  to increase4 ,time and chance  
sometimes produce extraordinary events2 
and if a really pious1 vigilant1 and    
austere prelate arose amidst the        
general dissoluteness of the age1 his   
single effort to reclaim these  solitary
 ecclesiastics was seldom attended with 
success4 ,these fathers1  indeed1       
frequently scrutinized with great       
minuteness into the practices  of the   
convents2 and as they were not so able  
to detect the guilt of  incontinency1 as
 some philosophers of the present age   
pretend to be1 by  the lines and        
features of the face1 they proceeded    
upon evidence less  delicate1 perhaps1  

but certainly more demonstrative and    
unerring4    ,the celebrated ,boccace   
has1 by his witty and ingenious tales1  
very  severely satirized the            
licentiousness and immorality which     
prevailed  during his time in the       
,italian monasteries2 but1 by exposing  
the  scandalous lives1 and lashing the  
vices1 of the monks1 nuns1 and other    
orders of the ,catholic clergy1 he has  
been decried as a contemner of          
religion1 and as an enemy to true piety4
 ,contemporary historians have  also    
delivered the most disgusting accounts  
of their intemperance and  debauchery4  
,the frailty1 indeed1 of the female     
monastics was even an  article of       
regular taxation2 and the holy father   
did not disdain to fill  his coffers    
with the price of their impurities4 ,the
 frail nun1 whether  she had become     
immured within a convent1 or still      
resided without its  walls1 might redeem
 her lost honor1 and be reinstated in   
her former  dignity and virtue1 for a   

few ducats4 ,this scandalous traffic was
  carried to an extent that soon        
destroyed all sense of morality1 and    
heightened the hue of vice4 ,ambrosius1 
bishop of ,camadoli1 a prelate  of      
extraordinary virtue1 visited various   
convents in his diocese1 but1  on       
inspecting their proceedings1 he found  
no traces of virtue1 or even  of decency
 remaining in any one of them2 nor was  
he able1 with all the  sagacity he      
exercised on the subject1 to reinfuse   
the smallest particle  of these         
qualities into the degenerated minds of 
the sisterhood4    ,the reform of the   
nunneries was the first step that       
distinguished the  government of ,sextus
 ,,iv4 after he ascended the papal      
throne1 at the close  of the fifteenth  
century4 ,bossus1 a celebrated canon1 of
 the strictest  principles1 and most    
inflexible disposition1 was the agent   
selected by  his holiness for this      
arduous achievement4 ,the ,genoese      
convents1 where  the nuns lived in open 

defiance of all the rules of decency and
 precepts  of religion1 were the first  
objects of his attention4 ,the orations 
which  he publicly uttered from the     
pulpit1 as well as the private lectures 
and exhortations which he delivered to  
the nuns from the confessional  chair1  
were fine models1 not only of his zeal  
and probity1 but of his  literature and 
eloquence4 ,they breathed1 in the most  
impressive manner1  the true spirit of  
,christian purity2 but his glowing      
representations  of the bright beauties 
of virtue1 and the dark deformities of  
vice  made little impression upon their 
corrupt hearts4 ,despising the open     
calumnies of the envious1 and the secret
 hostilities of the guilty1 he          
proceeded1 in spite of all              
discouragement and opposition1 in his   
highly  honorable pursuit2 and at       
length1 by his wisdom and assiduity1    
beheld  the fairest prospects of success
 daily opening to his view4 ,the rays of
  hope1 however1 had scarcely beamed    

upon his endeavors1 when they were      
immediately overclouded by              
disappointment4 ,the arm of magistracy1 
which  he had wisely called upon to aid 
the accomplishment of his design1 was   
enervated by the venality of its hand2  
and the incorrigible objects of  his    
solicitude having freed themselves by   
bribery from the terror of the  civil   
power1 contemned the reformer's         
denunciation of eternal vengeance       
hereafter1 and relapsed into their      
former licentiousness and depravity4  ,a
 few1 indeed1 among the great number of 
nuns who inhabited these guilty         
convents1 were converted by the force of
 his eloquent remonstrances1  and became
 afterward highly exemplary by the      
virtue and piety of their  lives2 but   
the rest abandoned themselves to their  
impious courses2 and  though more       
vigorous methods were1 in a short time1 
adopted against the  refractory         
monastics1 they set all attempts to     
reform them at defiance4  ,the modes1   

perhaps1 in which their vices were      
indulged1 changed with  the character of
 the age2 and as manners grew more      
refined1 the gross  and shameful        
indulgences of the monks and nuns were  
changed into a more  elegant and decent 
style of enjoyment4 ,fashion might      
render them more  prudent and reserved  
in their intrigues2 but their passions  
were not less  vicious1 nor their       
dispositions less corrupt4    ,the      
disorderly manners of these solitary    
devotees were among the  principal      
causes that produced the reformation4   
,there is a point beyond  which even    
depravity cannot go in corrupting the   
manners of the age4  ,the number and    
power of the monastics1 or1 as they were
 at that time  called1 the regular      
clergy1 was certainly great1 and their  
resistance  to the approaches of        
reformation obstinate2 but the temper of
 the times  had changed1 and the        
glorious and beneficial event was at    
length  accomplished4 ,the ,catholics   

viewed the dismemberment of their church
  as a fatal stroke to their interest   
and power2 but it has since been        
confessed1 by every candid and rational 
member of this communion to be  an event
 which has contributed to advance morals
 to a higher degree of  perfection than 
they had ever before attained since the 
introduction of  ,christianity1 and to  
restore the discipline of the church to 
some portion  of its original purity4   
,the pure spirit of the gospel of       
,christ breathes forth a holy religion1 
founded on meekness1 charity1 kindness1 
and brotherly love2 but  fanaticism1    
when joined to a systematic and         
irrational solitude1 only  produces the 
rank and poisonous fruits we have       
already described4 ,the  trivial1       
querulous1 and intolerant superstitions1
 which1 during so  many ages1 eclipsed  
the reason and morals of mankind1 and   
obscured1 in  clouds of lust and        
cruelty1 the bright rays of evangelical 
truth1 were  the sad effects of         

irrational solitude4 ,the best          
affections of nature  were perverted or 
suppressed2 all the gentle offices of   
humanity were  neglected2 moral         
sentiments despised2 and the angel voice
 of piety  unheard1 or converted into   
the violent vociferations of hatred1 and
 the  cries of persecution4 ,the loud   
clangors of pretended orthodoxy         
resounded  with sanguinary hostilities  
from shore to shore2 the earth was      
deluged  with the blood of those who    
dared to deny1 or even to doubt the     
absurd  and idle dogmas which the monks 
every where invented3 and their horrid  
barbarities were attempted to be        
justified by propagating the notion that
  severity with heretics was the only   
mode of preserving the true faith4  ,oh6
 how blind is human folly6 ,how obdurate
 are hearts vitiated by pride6  ,how can
 that be the true faith which tears     
asunder every social tie2  annihilates  
all the feelings of nature2 places      
cruelty and horror on the  throne of    

humanity and love1 and scatters         
ferocious fury and insatiable  hatred   
through the paths of life8 ,but we may  
now indulge a pleasing hope1  that the  
period is at hand1 when the sacred      
temple of religion1 purified  by the    
labors of learned and truly pious men1  
from the foul stains with  which        
fanaticism and ambition have so long    
defaced it1 shall be restored  to its   
own divine simplicity2 and only the     
voice of gentleness1 of love1  of peace 
of virtue1 and of goodness1 be heard    
within its walls4 ,then  will every     
,christian be truly taught the only     
means by which his days  may be useful  
and his life happy2 and ,catholics1     
,lutherans1 ,calvinists1  ,protestants1 
and every really religious class of men1
 will unite in acts  of sincere         
benevolence and universal peace4 ,no    
austere1 gloomy1 and  dispiriting       
duties3 no irrational penances and      
unnatural mortification1  will be       
enjoined2 no intolerant cruelties be    

inflicted2 no unsocial  institutions    
established2 no rites of solitary       
selfishness be required2  but reason and
 religion in divine perfection1 will    
reassume their reign2  and unaffected   
and sincere devotion will occupy every  
mind2 the ,almighty  will be worshipped 
in spirit and in truth2 and we shall be 
convinced  that 8the wicked are like the
 troubled sea when it cannot rest2 but  
that  the work of righteousness is      
peace1 and the effect of righteousness1 
quietude and assurance for ever40 ,to   
effect this1 a rational retirement  from
 the tumults of the world will be       
occasionally necessary1 in order to     
commune with our own hearts1 and be     
still1 and to dispose our minds to  such
 a train of thinking1 as shall prepare  
us1 when the giddy whirl of  life is    
finished for the society of more exalted
 spirits4        ,oh6 would mankind but 
make fair truth their guide1      ,and  
force the helm from prejudice and pride1
      ,were once these maxims fix'd1    

that ,god's our friend1      ,virtue our
 good1 and happiness our end1      ,how 
soon must reason o'er the world prevail1
      ,and error1 fraud and superstition
 fail6      ,none would hereafter1 then1
 with groundless fear1      ,describe   
th' ,almighty cruel and severe2         
,predestinating some1 without pretence1 
,to heaven2 and some to hell1 for no    
offence2      ,inflicting endless pains 
for transient crimes1      ,and favoring
 sects or nations1 men or times4        
,to please him1 none would foolishly    
forbear1      ,or food1 or rest1 or itch
 in shirts of hair3      ,or deem it    
merit to believe1 or teach1      ,what  
reason contradicts or cannot reach4     
,none would fierce zeal for piety       
mistake1      ,or malice1 for whatever  
tenet's sake2      ,or think salvation  
to one sect confin'd1      ,and heaven  
too narrow to contain mankind4      ,no 
more would brutal rage disturb our      
peace1      ,but envy1 hatred1 war1 and 
discord cease2      ,our own and others'

 good each hour employ1      ,and all   
things smile with universal joy2        
,fair virtue then1 with pure religion   
join'd1      ,would regulate and bless  
the human mind1      ,and man be what   
his ,maker first design'd4              
,,chapter ,,vii4    ,of the danger of   
idleness in solitude4      ,idleness is 
truly said to be the root of all evil2  
and solitude certainly  encourages in   
the generality of its votaries this     
baneful disposition4  ,nature has so    
framed the character of man1 that his   
happiness essentially  depends on his   
passions being properly interested1 his 
imagination  busied1 and his faculties  
employed2 but these engagements are     
seldom  found in the vacant scenes and  
tedious hours of retirement from the    
world1 except by those who have acquired
 the great and happy art of  furnishing 
their own amusements2 an art which1 as  
we have already shown1  can never be    
learnt in the irrational solitude of    
caves and cells4    ,the idleness which 

solitude is so apt to induce1 is        
dangerous in  proportion to the natural 
strength1 activity1 and spirit of the   
mind2  for it is observed1 that the     
highest characters are frequently goaded
  by that restlessness which accompanies
 leisure1 to acts of the wildest        
outrage and greatest enormity4 ,the     
ancient legislators were so conscious   
that indolence1 whether indulged in     
solitude or in society1 is the nurse  of
 civil commotion1 and the chief         
instigator of moral turpitude1 that     
they wisely framed their laws to prevent
 its existence4 ,solon1 observing  that 
the city was filled with persons who    
assembled from all parts on  account of 
the great security in which the people  
lived in ,attica1  that the country     
withal was poor and barren1 and being   
conscious that  merchants1 who traffic  
by sea1 do not use to transport their   
goods where  they can have nothing in   
exchange1 turned the attention of the   
citizens  to manufactures2 and for this 

purpose made a law1 that he who was     
three  times convicted of idleness1     
should be deemed infamous2 that no son  
should be obliged to maintain his father
 if he had not taught him a  trade2 that
 trade should be accounted honorable2   
and that the council  of the ,areopagus 
should examine into every man's means of
 living1 and  chastise the idle with the
 greatest severity4 ,draco conceived it 
so  necessary to prevent the prevalency 
of a vice to which man is by nature     
prone1 and which is so destructive to   
his character1 and ruinous to his       
manners1 that he punished idleness with 
death4 ,the tyrant ,pisistratus1 as     
,theophrastus relates1 was so convinced 
of the importance of preventing         
idleness among his subjects1 that he    
made a law against it1 which  produced  
at once industry in the country1 and    
tranquillity in the city4  ,pericles1   
who1 in order to relieve ,athens from a 
number of lazy citizens1  whose lives   
were neither employed in virtuous       

actions1 nor guarded from  guilt by     
habits of industry1 planted colonies in 
,chersonesus1 ,naxos1  ,andros1 ,thrace1
 and even in ,italy1 and sent them      
thither2 for this  sagacious statesman  
saw the danger of indulging this growing
 vice1 and  wisely took precautions to  
prevent it4 ,nothing1 indeed1           
contributes more  essentially to the    
tranquillity of a nation1 and to the    
peaceful demeanor  of its inhabitants1  
than those artificial wants which luxury
 introduces2  for1 by creating a demand 
for the fashionable articles1 they      
engage the  attention1 and employ the   
hands of a multitude of manufacturers   
and  artificers1 who1 if they were left 
in that restless indolence which the    
want of work creates1 would certainly be
 unhappy themselves1 and in  all        
probability would be fomenting mischief 
in the minds of others4 ,to  suspend    
only for one week1 the vast multitudes  
that are employed in the  several       
mechanical trades and manufactories in  

,great ,britain1 would be  to run the   
risk of involving the metropolis of that
 great1 flourishing1  and powerful      
country1 once more in flames2 for it    
would be converting  the populace into  
an aptly disposed train of combustible  
matter1 which  being kindled by the     
least spark of accidental enthusiasm1 by
 the heat  of political faction1 or1    
indeed1 by their own internal           
fermentation1  would explode into the   
most flagrant enormities4 ,nature1 it is
 said1  abhors a vacuum2 and this old   
peripatetic principle may be properly   
applied to the intellect1 which will    
embrace any thing1 however absurd  or   
criminal1 rather than be wholly without 
an object4 ,the same author  also       
observes1 that every man may date the   
predominance of those desires  that     
disturb his life1 and contaminate his   
conscience1 from some unhappy  hour when
 too much leisure exposed him to their  
incursions2 for that he  has lived with 
little observation1 either on himself or

 others1 who does  not know that to be  
idle is to be vicious4 8,many writers of
 eminence in  physic10 continues this   
eminent writer1 whose works not only    
disclose  his general acquaintance with 
life and manners1 but a profound        
knowledge  of human nature1 8have laid  
out their diligence upon the            
consideration  of those distempers to   
which men are exposed by particular     
states of  life2 and very learned       
treatises have been produced upon the   
maladies  of the camp1 the sea1 and the 
mines4 ,there are1 indeed1 few          
employments  which a man accustomed to  
academical inquiries and medical        
refinements1  would not find reason for 
declining1 as dangerous to health1 did  
not  his learning or experience inform  
him1 that almost every occupation1      
however inconvenient or formidable1 is  
happier and safer than a life  of sloth4
 ,the necessity of action is not only   
demonstrable from the  fabric of the    
body1 but evident from observation of   

the universal  practice of mankind2 who 
for the preservation of health in those 
whose  rank or wealth exempts them from 
the necessity of lucrative labors1 have 
invented sports and diversions1 though  
not of equal use to the world  with     
manual trades1 yet of equal fatigue to  
those who practice them1  and differing 
only from the drudgery of the husbandman
 or manufacturer1  as they are acts of  
choice1 and therefore performed without 
the painful  sense of compulsion4 ,the  
huntsman rises early1 pursues his game  
through  all the dangers and            
obstructions of the chase1 swims rivers1
 and scales  precipices1 till he returns
 home1 no less harassed than the        
soldier1  and has1 perhaps1 sometimes   
incurred as great hazard of wounds and  
death2 yet he has no motive to excite   
his ardor2 he is neither subject  to the
 command of a general1 nor dreads the   
penalties of neglect or  disobedience3  
he has neither profits nor honors to    
expect from his perils  and conquests3  

but acts with the hope of mural or civic
 garlands1 and  must content himself    
with the praise of his tenants and      
companions4 ,but  such is the           
constitution of man1 that labor is its  
own reward2 nor  will any external      
incitements be requisite1 if it be      
considered how  much happiness is       
gained1 and how much misery escaped1 by 
frequent and  violent agitation of the  
body4 ,ease is the most that can be     
hoped from a  sedentary and inactive    
habit2 but ease is a mere neutral state1
 between  pain and pleasure4 ,the dance 
of spirits1 the bound of vigor1         
readiness  of enterprise1 and defiance  
of fatigue1 are reserved for him that   
braces  his nerves1 and hardens his     
fibres2 that keeps his limbs pliant with
  motion2 and1 by frequent exposure     
fortifies his frame against the common  
accidents of cold and heat4 ,with ease1 
however1 if it could be secured1  many  
would be content2 but nothing           
terrestrial can be kept at a stand4     

,ease1 if it is not rising into         
pleasure1 will be settling into pain2   
and whatever hopes the dreams of        
speculation may suggest1 of observing   
the proportion between retirement and   
labor1 and keeping the body in a        
healthy state by supplies exactly equal 
to its weight1 we know that1 in  effect1
 the vital powers1 unexcited by motion1 
grow gradually languid1  decay1 and die4
 ,it is necessary to that perfection of 
which our present  state is capable1    
that the mind and body should both be   
kept in action2  that neither the       
faculties of the one nor the other      
should be suffered to  grow lax or      
torpid for want of use2 that neither    
health can be purchased  by voluntary   
submission to ignorance1 nor knowledge  
cultivated at the  expense of that      
health1 which must enable it either to  
give pleasure to  its possessor1 or     
assistance to others4 ,it is too        
frequently the pride of  students1 to   
despise those amusements which give to  

the rest of mankind  strength of limbs  
and cheerfulness of heart4 ,solitude and
 contemplation  are1 indeed1 seldom     
consistent with such skill in common    
exercises or  sports1 as is necessary to
 make them practised with delight2 and  
no  man is willing to do that of which  
the necessity is not pressing1 when  he 
knows that his awkwardness but makes him
 ridiculous4 ,i have always  admired the
 wisdom of those by whom our female     
education was instituted1  for having   
contrived that all women1 of whatever   
condition1 should be  taught some arts  
of manufacture1 by which the vacuities  
of recluse and  domestic leisure may be 
filled up4 ,these arts are more         
necessary1 as  the weakness of their    
sex1 and the general system of life1    
debar ladies  from many enjoyments1     
which1 by diversifying the circumstances
 of men1  preserve them from being      
cankered by the rust of their own       
thoughts4 ,i  know not how much of the  
virtue and happiness of the world may be

 the  consequence of this judicious     
regulation4 ,perhaps the most powerful  
fancy might be unable to figure the     
confusion and slaughter that would  be  
produced by so many piercing eyes and   
vivid understandings1 turned  loose upon
 mankind1 with no other business than to
 sparkle and intrigue1  to perplex and  
destroy4 ,for my own part1 whenever     
chance brings within  my observation a  
knot of misses busy at their needles1 ,i
 consider myself  as in the school of   
virtue2 and though ,i have no           
extraordinary skill  in plain work1 or  
embroidery1 look upon their operations  
with as much  satisfaction as their     
governess1 because ,i regard them as    
providing a  security against the most  
dangerous ensnarers of the soul1 by     
enabling  them to exclude idleness from 
their solitary moments1 and with        
idleness1  her attendant train of       
passions1 fancies1 chimeras1 fears1     
sorrows1  and desires4 ,ovid and        
,cervantes will inform them that love   

has no power  but on those whom he      
catches unemployed3 and ,hector1 in the 
,iliad1 when  he sees ,andromache       
overwhelmed with tears1 sends her for   
consolation  to the loom and the        
distaff4 ,certain it is1 that wild      
wishes1 and vain  imaginations1 never   
take such firm possession of the mind1  
as when it is  found empty and          
unemployed40    ,idleness1 indeed1 was  
the spreading root from which all the   
vices and  crimes of the oriental nuns  
so luxuriantly branched4 ,few of them   
had any  taste for science1 or were     
enabled by the habits either of         
reflection1 or  industry to charm away  
the tediousness of solitude1 or to      
relieve that  weariness which must      
necessarily accompany their abstracted  
situation4  ,the talents with which     
nature had endowed them were            
uncultivated2 the  glimmering lights of 
reason were obscured by a blind and     
headlong zeal2  and their temper soured 
by the circumstances of their forlorn   

conditions4  ,certain it is1 that the   
only means of avoiding unhappiness and  
misery in  solitude1 and perhaps in     
society also1 is to keep the mind       
continually  engaged in1 or occupied by1
 some laudable pursuit4 ,the earliest   
professors of a life of solitude1       
although they removed themselves far    
from the haunts of men1 among 8caverns  
deep and deserts idle10 where  nature   
denied her sons the most common of her  
blessings1 employed  themselves in      
endeavoring to cultivate the rude and   
barren soil during  those intervals in  
which they were not occupied in the     
ordinary labors  of religion2 and even  
those whose extraordinary sanctity      
confined them  the whole day in their   
cells1 found the necessity of filling up
 their  leisure1 by exercising the      
manual arts for which they were         
respectively  suited4 ,the rules1       
indeed1 which were originally           
established in most of  the convents1   
ordained that the time and attention of 

a monk should never  be for a moment    
vacant or unemployed3 but this excellent
 precept was  soon rendered obsolete2   
and the sad consequences which resulted 
from its  non-observance1 we have       
already1 in some degree1 described4     
,,chapter ,,viii4    ,conclusion4       
,the anxiety with which ,i have         
endeavored to describe the advantages   
and the disadvantages which1 under      
particular circumstances1 and in        
particular situations1 are likely to be 
experienced by those who devote         
themselves to solitary retirement1 may  
perhaps1 occasion me to be viewed  by   
some as its romantic panegyrist1 and by 
others as its uncandid censor4  ,i shall
 therefore endeavor1 in this concluding 
chapter1 to prevent a  misconstruction  
of my opinion1 by explicitly declaring  
the inferences  which ought1 in         
fairness1 to be drawn from what ,i have 
said4    ,the advocates for a life of   
uninterrupted society will1 in all      
probability1 accuse me of being a morose

 and gloomy philosopher2 an  inveterate 
enemy to social intercourse2 who1 by    
recommending a melancholy  and sullen   
seclusion1 and interdicting mankind from
 enjoying the  pleasures of life1 would 
sour their tempers1 subdue their        
affections1  annihilate the best        
feelings of the heart1 pervert the noble
 faculty of  reason1 and thereby once   
more plunge the world into that dark    
abyss of  barbarism1 from which it has  
been so happily rescued by the          
establishment  and civilization of      
society4    ,the advocates for a life of
 continual solitude will most probably1 
on the  other hand1 accuse me of a      
design to deprive the species of one of 
the  most pleasing and satisfactory     
delights1 by exciting an unjust         
antipathy1  raising an unfounded alarm1 
depreciating the uses1 and aggravating  
the  abuses1 of solitude2 and by these  
means endeavoring to encourage that     
spirit of licentiousness and dissipation
 which so strongly mark the  degeneracy1

 and tend to promote the vices of the   
age4    ,the respective advocates for   
these opinions1 however1 equally mistake
  the intent and view ,i had in         
composing this treatise4 ,i do sincerely
  assure them1 that it was very far from
 my intention to cause a relaxation  of 
the exercise of any of the civil duties 
of life2 to impair in any  degree1 the  
social dispositions of the human heart2 
to lessen any  inclination to rational  
retirement3 or to prevent the beneficent
 practice  of self-communion1 which     
solitude is best calculated to promote4 
,the fine and generous philanthropy of  
that mind which1 entertaining  notions  
of universal benevolence1 seeks to feel 
a love for1 and to  promote the good of1
 the whole human race1 can never be     
injured by an  attachment to domestic   
pleasures1 or by cultivating the soft   
and gentle  affections which are only to
 be found in the small circles of       
private  life1 and can never be truly   
enjoyed1 except in the bosom of love1 or

  the arms of friendship3 nor will an   
occasional and rational retirement  from
 the tumults of the world lessen any of 
the noble sympathies of the  human      
heart3 but on the contrary1 by enlarging
 those ideas and feelings  which have   
sprung from the connexions and          
dependencies which its votary  may have 
formed with individuals1 and by         
generalizing his particular  interests  
and concerns1 may enable him to extend  
the social principle  and increase the  
circle of his benevolence4        ,god  
loves from whole to parts2 but human    
soul      ,must rise from individual to 
whole4      ,self love but serves the   
virtuous mind to wake1      ,as the     
small pebble stirs the peaceful lake2   
,the centre mov'd1 a circle straight    
succeeds2      ,another still1 and still
 another spreads2      ,friend1 parent1 
neighbor1 first it will embrace2        
,his country next2 and next1 all human  
race4    ,the chief design of this work 
was1 to exhibit the necessity of        

combining  the uses of solitude with    
those of society2 to show1 in the       
strongest  light1 the advantages they   
may mutually derive from each other2 to 
convince mankind of the danger of       
running into either extreme2 to teach   
the advocate for uninterrupted society1 
how highly all the social virtues  may  
be improved1 and its vices easily       
abandoned1 by habits of solitary        
abstraction2 and the advocate for       
continual solitude1 how much that       
indocility and arrogance of character   
which is contracted by a total  absence 
from the world1 may be corrected by the 
urbanity of society1 and  by the company
 and conversation of the learned and    
polite4    ,petrarch1 while in the prime
 of life1 and amidst the happiest       
exertions  of his extraordinary genius1 
quitted all the seducing charms of      
society1  and retired from love and     
,avignon1 to indulge his mind in        
literary  pursuits1 and to relieve his  
heart1 from the unfortunate passion by  

which  it was enthralled4 ,no situation1
 he conceived1 was so favorable for     
these  purposes as the highly romantic  
and delightful solitude of ,vaucluse4   
,it  was situated within view of the    
,mediterranean sea1 in a little valley1 
inclosed by a semicircular barrier of   
rocks1 on a plain as beautiful  as the  
vale of ,tempe4 ,the rocks were high1   
bold1 and grotesque2 and the  valley was
 divided by a river1 along the banks of 
which were meadows  and pastures of a   
perpetual verdure4 ,a path on the left  
side of the  river1 led1 by gentle      
windings1 to the head of this vast      
amphitheatre4  ,at the foot of the      
highest rock1 and directly in front of  
the valley1  was a prodigious cavern1   
hollowed by the hand of nature1 from    
whence  arose a spring almost as        
celebrated as that of ,helicon4 ,the    
gloom of the  cavern1 which was         
accessible when the waters were low1 was
 tremendous4  ,it consisted of two      
excavations2 the one forming an arch of 

sixty feet  high2 and the other1 which  
was within1 of thirty feet4 ,in the     
centre of  this subterraneous rock was  
an oval basin1 of one hundred and eight 
feet  diameter1 into which that copious 
stream which forms the river ,sorgia    
rises silently1 without even a jet or   
bubble4 ,the depth of this basin  has   
eluded all attempts to fathom it4 ,in   
this charming retreat1 while he  vainly 
endeavored1 during a period of twenty   
years1 to forget1 he enabled  himself to
 endure the absence of his beloved      
,laura1 and to compare1  with the       
highest satisfaction1 the pure pleasures
 of rural retirement  with the false    
joys of a vicious and corrupted court1  
the manners and  principles of which1   
indeed1 he had always had good sense    
enough to  discover and despise4 ,but   
this solitude1 with all its charms1     
could not  at length prevent him from   
returning to the more splendid and busy 
scenes  of public life4 ,the advantages 
he had derived from a retreat of twenty 

years1 would1 he conceived1 enable him  
to mix with the world without the       
danger of being corrupted by its vices2 
and after reasoning with himself  for   
some time in this way1 he suddenly      
abandoned the peaceful privacy of       
,vaucluse1 and precipitated himself into
 the gayest and most active scenes  of a
 luxurious city4 ,the inhabitants of    
,avignon were amazed to behold  the     
hermit of ,vaucluse1 the tender fugitive
 from love1 the philosophic  contemner  
of society1 who could scarcely exist1   
except in the midst of  romantic rocks  
and flowery forests1 shining all at once
 the bright star  of the fashionable    
hemisphere1 and the choice spirit of    
every private and  public entertainment4
        ,we're sadly ignorant1 when we  
hope to find      ,in shades a med'cine 
for a troubled mind2      ,wan grief    
will haunt us wheresoe'er we go1        
,sigh in the breeze1 and in the         
streamlet flow3      ,there pale        
inaction pines his life away1      ,and 

satiate1 curses the return of day2      
,there love1 insatiate1 rages wild with 
pain1      ,endures the blast1 or       
plunges in the main2      ,there        
superstition broods o'er all her fears  
,and yells of demons in the zephyr hears
      ,he who a hermit is resolv'd to   
dwell1      ,and bids a social life a   
long farewell1      ,is impious4    ,it 
has already been observed1 upon the     
authority of a very accurate and        
profound observer of nature1 that a very
 extraordinary temperament of  mind and 
constitution of body are required to    
sustain1 with tranquillity  and         
endurance1 the various fatigues of      
continued solitude2 and certain  it is1 
that a human creature who is constantly 
pent up in seclusion1  must1 if he be   
not of a very exalted character1 soon   
become melancholy  and miserable4       
,happiness1 like every other valuable   
quality1 cannot be  completely          
possessed1 without encountering many    
dangers1 and conquering  many           

difficulties4 ,the prize is great1 but  
the task is arduous4 ,a healthy  body1  
and vigorous mind1 are as essentially   
necessary to the enterprise1  as equal  
courage and fortitude are to its        
success4 ,the bold adventurer1  who1    
destitute of these resources1 quits the 
bays and harbors of society1  shallow1  
rocky1 and dangerous1 as they           
undoubtedly are1 and commits  himself to
 the wild and expansive sea of solitude1
 will sink into its  deep and disastrous
 bed without a hold to save him from    
destruction4 ,the  few instances we have
 already given1 to which many more might
 easily be  added1 furnish unequivocal  
testimony of the truth of this grand    
precept1  it is not good for man to be  
alone3 which was given by the great     
,author  of nature1 and imprinted in    
characters sufficiently legible on the  
human  heart4        ,god never made a  
solitary man3      ',twould jar the     
concord of his general plan4            
,should man through nature solitary     

roam1      ,his will his sovereign1     
every where his home1      ,what force  
would guard him from the lion's jaw8    
,what swiftness save him from the       
panther's paw8      ,or should fate lead
 him to some safer shore1      ,where   
panthers never prowl1 nor lions roar1   
,where liberal nature all her charms    
bestows1      ,suns shine1 birds sing1  
flowers bloom1 and water flows1         
,still discontented1 though such glories
 shone      ,he'd sigh and murmur to be 
there alone4    ,content cannot be      
procured1 except by social intercourse1 
or a judicious  communion with those    
whom congenial tastes1 and similar      
talent and  dispositions1 point out for 
our companions4 ,the civilization of    
man1  from whence the species derive    
such happy consequences1 results        
entirely  from a proper management of   
the social principles2 even the source  
of his support1 the melioration of the  
otherwise rude and unprofitable  earth1 
can only be attained by social          

combination4 ,how erroneous a  notion1  
therefore1 must the minds of those men  
have formed of 8their  being's end and  
aim10 and how strong must their         
antipathies to the  species be1 who like
 a certain celebrated ,french hermit1   
would choose a  station among the       
craters of ,vesuvius1 as a place which  
afforded them  greater security than the
 society of mankind6 ,the idea of being 
able  to produce our own happiness from 
the stores of amusement and delight     
which we ourselves may possess1         
independently of all communication      
with1 or assistance from others1 is     
certainly extremely flattering to  the  
natural pride of man2 but even if this  
were possible1 and that a  solitary     
enthusiast could work up his feelings to
 a higher and more  lasting degree of   
felicity1 than an active inhabitant of  
the world1 amid  all its seducing vices 
and enchanting follies1 is capable of   
enjoying1  it would not follow that     
society is not the province of all those

 whom  peculiar circumstances have not  
unfitted for its duties and enjoyments4 
,it is1 indeed1 a false and deceitful   
notion1 that a purer stream of          
happiness is to be found in the         
delightful bowers of solitude than in   
the busy walks of men4 ,neither of these
 stations enjoy exclusively this  envied
 stream3 for it flows along the vale of 
peace1 which lies between  the two      
extremes2 and those who follow it with a
 steady pace1 without  deviating too    
widely from its brink on either side1   
will reach its  source1 and taste it at 
its spring4 ,but devious1 to a certain  
degree1  must be the walk2 for the      
enjoyments of life are best attained by 
being  varied with judgment and         
discretion4 ,the finest joys grow       
nauseous to  the taste when the cup of  
pleasure is drained to its dregs4 ,the  
highest  delight loses its attraction by
 too frequent recurrence4 ,it is only by
 a  proper mixture and combination of   
the pleasures of society with those of  

solitude1 of the gay and lively         
recreations of the world with the serene
  and tranquil satisfactions of         
retirement1 that we can enjoy each in   
its  highest relish4 ,life is           
intolerable without society2 and society
 loses  half its charms by being too    
eagerly and constantly pursued4         
,society1  indeed1 by bringing men of   
congenial minds and similar dispositions
  together1 uniting them by a community 
of pursuits1 and a reciprocal  sympathy 
of interests1 may greatly assist the    
cause of truth and virtue1  by advancing
 the means of human knowledge and       
multiplying the ties of  human          
affections2 and so far as the festive   
board1 the lively dance1  the brilliant 
coterie1 and other elegant and          
fashionable pastimes1  contribute to    
these ends1 they are truly valuable1 and
 deserve1 not only  encouragement1 but  
approbation4 ,on this principle1 the    
various clubs  which are formed by      
artizans1 and other inferior orders in  

society1 ought  to be respected4 ,the   
mind1 in order to preserve its useful   
activity  and proper tone1 must be      
occasionally relaxed1 which cannot be so
  beneficially effected as by means of  
associations founded on the pursuit  of 
common pleasure4 ,a friendly meeting1 or
 a social entertainment1  exhilarates   
the spirits1 exercises the faculties of 
the mind2 calls  forth the feelings of  
the heart1 and creates1 when properly   
formed and  indulged1 a reciprocity of  
kindness1 confidence1 and esteem4 ,it   
softens  the severity of virtue1 while  
it strengthens and enforces its effects4
  ,i therefore sincerely exhort my      
disciples not to absent themselves      
morosely from public places1 nor to     
avoid the social throng2 which  cannot  
fail to afford to judicious1 rational1  
and feeling minds1 many  subjects both  
of amusement and instruction4 ,it is    
true1 that we cannot  relish the        
pleasures1 and taste the advantages of  
society1 without being  able to give a  

patient hearing to the tongue of folly1 
to excuse error1  to bear with          
infirmity1 to view mediocrity of talents
 without scorn1  and illiberality of    
sentiment without retort2 to indulge    
frivolity of  behavior1 and even to     
forgive rudeness of manners3 but the    
performance of  these conditions meets  
with its own reward2 for it is scarcely 
credible1  how very much our own tempers
 and dispositions are meliorated1 and   
our  understandings improved1 by bearing
 with the different tempers1 and        
humoring the perverse dispositions of   
others2 we experience by such a  conduct
 the high delight of pleasing others1   
and the great advantage of  improving   
ourselves4    ,delightful1 however1 as  
social pleasures naturally are to the   
human  mind2 necessary as they certainly
 are1 under proper regulations1 to the  
preservation of the spirits2 and        
beneficial as they may undoubtedly be   
rendered1 by judicious choice and wise  
reflection1 it is not every person  who 

withdraws himself from the highly       
colored scenes of public life1  to the  
shades of privacy and retirement1 that  
deserves the imputation  generally cast 
on such characters1 of being inclined to
 sullenness and  misanthropy4 ,there are
 many who seek the retreats of solitude1
 for the  very purpose of rendering     
their efforts more useful to society2   
many  who relinquish the endearments of 
private friendship1 and the applauses   
of public approbation1 only the more    
nobly to deserve them2 and many1  whose 
souls are so bitterly tormented by the  
anguish of misfortune1  and the sickness
 of sorrow1 that they find no relief    
from society1 and  recede from its      
scenes to avoid giving disturbance to   
that gayety which  they are incapable of
 enjoying1 and to prevent their         
fractious feelings  from molesting any  
but themselves4 ,there are others who   
retire from the  world to pursue objects
 the most glorious to the individual1   
and most  useful to mankind2 the        

attainment of which can only be hoped   
for from the  advantages which solitude 
affords4 ,glowing with a sublime and    
generous  spirit1 they sacrifice the    
joys of life1 the charms of society1 and
 even  the advantages of health1 to show
 their attachment to the species2 and1  
immured from the sight of this world1   
toil1 with indefatigable industry1  for 
its benefit1 without expecting any other
 reward than the satisfaction  resulting
 from the sense of having promoted the  
interest1 and advanced  the happiness of
 their fellow creatures4 ,so also1      
,sage reflection1 bent with years2      
,conscious virtue1 void of fears2       
,muffled silence1 wood-nymph shy2       
,meditation's piercing eye2             
,halcyon peace on moss reclin'd2        
,retrospect1 that sears the mind2       
,rapt1 earth-gazing reverie2            
,blushing1 artless modesty2             
,health1 that snuffs the morning air2   
,full-ey'd truth1 with bosom bare2      
,inspiration1 nature's child1      ,seek

 the solitary wild4    ,the state of the
 mind1 if properly consulted1 will      
discover whether  solitude may be safely
 indulged4 ,the bosom that1 amidst the  
gay delights  and luxurious pleasures of
 the world1 feels a rising discontent   
and  uneasiness1 may try the retreats of
 solitude without danger3 and if1  after
 a certain period1 an attachment to its 
mild and tranquil scenes  continues1 and
 the heart enjoys that quietude and     
content which it  before so vainly      
wished to experience1 society may be    
advantageously  relinquished4 ,the      
patient may1 under such circumstances1  
safely indulge  the natural inclinations
 of the mind1 and gratify the habitual  
feelings  of his heart3 he may then     
exclaim in the language of the poet1    
8,oh6 snatch me swift from those        
tumultuous scenes1      ,to lonely      
groves and sweetly verdant greens1      
,to where religion1 peace1 and comfort  
dwell1      ,and cheer with heavenly    
rays the lonely cell3      ,to where no 

ruffling winds1 no raging seas1         
,disturb the mind amidst its pensive    
ease3      ,each passion calm2 where    
mild affections shine1      ,the        
soul-enjoying quietude divine3          
,unknown in private or in public strife1
      ,soft sailing down the placid     
stream of life3      ,aw'd by no        
terrors1 by no cares perplex'd2      ,my
 life a gentle passage to the next40    
,but when that delightful tranquillity  
of mind1 which an excess of social      
pleasure has impaired or destroyed1 is  
not restored to its original  purity by 
the uninterrupted quietude of seclusion1
 it may fairly be  concluded1 that there
 is some natural and constitutional     
defect1 that  defeats the remedy1 and   
prevents the soul from tasting that     
serenity  which is so essential to the  
enjoyment of human happiness4 ,under    
such  circumstances it is dangerous to  
indulge the pleasures of solitude2 the  
sufferer should fly back to society2    
cultivate the duties of active life1    

and solicit1 with temperate indulgence1 
its more agreeable enjoyments4  ,for1   
although the pleasures and occupations  
of the world cannot eradicate  this     
species of intellectual disease1 they   
may1 by being judiciously  followed1    
suspend its progress1 and alleviate its 
pangs4 ,that case must  always be       
desperate1 when the antidote is too weak
 to reach the poison1  or to counteract 
its operation4 ,a pious resignation to  
his fate can alone  afford relief4      
8,oh6 as it pleases thee1 thou ,power   
,supreme1      ,to drive my bark thro'  
life's more rapid stream1      ,if      
lowering storms my destin'd course      
attend1      ,and ocean rage 'til this  
black voyage shall end1      ,let ocean 
rage1 and storms indignant roar1      ,i
 bow submissive and resign'd adore3     
,resign'd adore1 in various changes     
tri'd2      ,thy own lov'd ,son my      
anchor and my guide3      ,resign'd     
adore1 whate'er thy will decree2        
,my faith in ,jesus1 and my hope in     

,thee2      ,and humbly wait 'til1      
through a sea of woes1      ,i reach the
 wish'd-for harbor of repose40    ,there
 are1 however1 circumstances under which
 it is absolutely necessary  to retire  
from the world1 in order to avoid the   
recurrence of sentiments  and feelings  
that are pregnant with unhappiness4 ,to 
a mind that feels  unconquerable disgust
 of the manners and maxims of a world   
which it  cannot reform2 to a heart that
 turns with horror from the various     
sights  the world exhibits of human wo1 
which he is incapable of relieving2  to 
a bosom that is stung by the various    
vices which he cannot prevent  or       
restrain1 and which are hourly practised
 among the sons of men1  retirement     
becomes an obligation which the justice 
that every good  man owes to his own    
felicity demands4 ,the impulse of       
solitude may in  such cases be          
conscientiously indulged1 in the firmest
 confidence of  its rectitude4 ,it is a 
retreat necessary to the preservation1  

not only  of happiness but of virtue2   
and the world itself may be benefited by
  its effects4 ,removed from the sad    
scenes of inactivity1 wretchedness1  and
 guilt1 the tender feelings of pity are 
regulated with composure2  the mind     
views its own operations with nicer     
discrimination2 the high  sense of      
virtue is rendered less indignant2 and  
the hatred against vice  more temperate 
and discerning4 ,the violent emotions   
which created the  disgusting pain      
gently subside2 and as our reflections  
on the condition  of human nature       
prevail1 the soul feels how incumbent it
 is to endeavor  to bear with the       
follies1 to alleviate the miseries1 and 
to reform the  vices of mankind2 while  
the leisure and quietude which solitude 
affords1  enables a man1 who has thus   
retired1 to point out the most likely   
means  of accomplishing the ends which  
his lonely meditation1 and philanthropic
  feelings1 have generally inspired4    
8,with aspect mild1 and elevated eye1   

,behold him seated on a mount serene1   
,above the fogs of sense1 and passion's 
storm4      ,all the black cares and    
tumults of this life1      ,like        
harmless thunder breaking at his feet1  
,excite his pity1 nor impair his peace4 
,earth's genuine sons1 the sceptred and 
the slave1      ,a mingled mob6 a       
wandering herd6 he sees1                
,bewilder'd in the vale2 in all unlike1 
,his full reverse in all6 ,what higher  
praise      ,what stronger demonstration
 of the right8      ,himself too much he
 prizes to be proud1      ,and nothing  
thinks so great in man as man4      ,too
 dear he holds man's interest to neglect
      ,another's welfare1 or his right  
invade4      ,wrong he sustains with    
temper1 looks on heav'n1      ,nor      
stoops to think his injurer his foe2    
,but looks with gentle pity round1 to   
find      ,how he can best relieve      
another's wo1      ,or hush the vicious 
passions into peace40    ,those who have
 passed their lives in the domestic     

privacies of  retirement2 who have been 
only used to the soft and gentle offices
 of  friendship1 and to the tender      
endearments of love2 who have formed    
their  notion of virtue from those      
bright images which the purity of       
religion1  the perfection of moral      
sentiments1 and the feelings of an      
affectionate  heart1 have planted in    
their minds1 are too apt to yield to the
  abhorrence and disgust they must      
unavoidably feel on a first view of the 
artificial manners and unblushing vices 
of the world4 ,issuing from the  calm   
retreats of simplicity and innocence1   
and fondly hoping to meet with  more    
enlarged perfection in the world1 their 
amiable1 just and benevolent            
dispositions are shocked at the sour    
severities1 the sordid selfishness1  the
 gross injustice1 the base artifices1   
and the inhuman cruelties1  which deform
 the fairest features of social life1   
and disgrace the best  famed fabric of  
human polity4 ,revolting1 however1 as   

this disappointment  must certainly be1 
and grievously as the feelings of such  
characters be  wounded on their entering
 the world1 it is a cowardly desertion  
of their  duty to shrink from the task1 
and withdraw their services from their  
fellow creatures4 ,constituted as       
society is1 human happiness1 and the    
improvement of the species1 materially  
depend upon the active concurrence  of  
every individual in the general scheme  
of nature2 and the man who  withholds   
his assistance to promote the public    
good1 loosens or destroys  a link in    
that chain of things1 by which the whole
 is intended to be kept  together and   
preserved4 ,the doctrine1 therefore     
cannot be too forcibly  inculcated1 that
 is indispensably incumbent on every    
individual so to  accommodate himself to
 the manners of his contemporaries1 and 
the temper  of the times1 that he may   
have an opportunity of promoting the    
happiness  of others1 while he          
increases1 his own2 of extending the    

scale of human  knowledge by his social 
industry2 of relieving distress by his  
bounty2  and of exhibiting the          
deformities of vice1 and the beauties of
 virtue1  both by his precept and       
example4 ,and this sacred obligation1 by
 which  every good man feels himself so 
firmly bound to promote the welfare and 
happiness of his fellow creatures1 of   
course enjoins him to shun1 with  equal 
perseverance1 the giddy multitude in    
their pursuits of lawless  pleasure1 and
 to avoid the thoughtless votaries1 and 
baneful orgies1 of  wit1 intemperance1  
and sensual debauchery4 ,this is best   
effected by every  individual forming a 
rational scheme of domestic enjoyment1  
and engaging  in some useful occupation1
 in which neither the frivolous pursuits
 of the  vainly busy1 the ostentatious  
parade of the richly proud1 the         
faithless  pleasures of the unthinking  
gay1 the insatiable anxieties of        
avarice1 nor  the distracting           
compunctions of vice1 shall form any    

part2 but in which1  with a few amiable 
and faithful friends1 he shall pass the 
intervals of  virtuous industry1 or     
charitable exertion1 in the bosom of a  
fond and  cheerful family1 whose mutual 
endearments and affections will confer  
on  each other the highest happiness    
human nature is capable of enjoying4    
,active in indolence1 abroad who roam   
,in quest of happiness1 which dwells at 
home1      ,with vain pursuits fatigued1
 at length will find      ,its real     
dwelling is a virtuous mind4            
,retirement1 however1 when it is not    
inconsistent with our duties to         
society1 or injurious to those family   
interests which it is one of our        
principal foundations of happiness to   
promote1 is capable of producing  the   
most beneficial effects on our minds4   
,the self-communion which must          
accompany a wise and rational solitude1 
not only fosters and confirms our       
virtuous inclinations1 but detects and  
expels those latent vices which  have   

secretly crept into and corrupted the   
heart4 ,it induces a habit of           
contemplation1 which invigorates the    
faculties of the soul2 raises them  to  
the highest energies1 and directs them  
to purposes more elevated and  noble    
than it was possible for them1 amidst   
the business and pleasures  of public   
life1 to attain4 ,it tends1 indeed1 to  
unfold the powers of the  mind to so    
great an extent1 that we are ashamed of 
having thought that  our talents were   
confined within the limits we had       
prescribed1 and blush  at the ignorance 
and cowardice by which we were deceived4
 ,the activity of  genius is unlimited1 
and the measure of its effects depends  
entirely upon  a steady exertion of its 
powers4 ,a courageous and persevering   
industry  is capable of surmounting     
every difficulty1 and of performing the 
highest achievements4 ,a sense of       
intellectual weakness so far from being 
indulged1 ought to be combated with     
fortitude and resolution1 until  it is  

completely destroyed4 ,the human mind1  
like a noble tree1 extends  its branches
 widely round1 and raises them to the   
skies1 in proportion  as the soil on    
which it grows is more or less          
cultivated and manured3  but not being  
fixed to any certain spot1 its growth   
may be improved to  any size1 by        
transplanting it to the soil in which it
 most delights to  dwell4 ,by that firm 
reliance on its natural strength1 that  
indefatigable  exertion of its improved 
powers1 that steady observance of its   
successful  operations1 that warm and   
active zeal for excellence to which it  
is  invited by the advantages1 and      
encouraged by the opportunities1 which  
seclusion affords1 it will ascend from  
one stage of improvement to  another1   
from acquisition to acquisition2 and1 by
 a gradual and steady  progress1 reach a
 comprehensive elevation1 as great and  
surprising as it  was once thought      
visionary and unattainable4 ,to these   
sublime and noble  effects of human     

intellect1 solitude is the sincerest    
guide and most  powerful auxiliary2 and 
he who aspires to mental and moral      
excellence1  whose soul is anxious to   
become both great and good1 will1 of    
course1  seek its inspiring shades4     
,solitude1 indeed1 under any            
circumstances1 can only become injurious
  by being carried to excess1 or by     
being misapplied2 and what is there     
that will not1 by being abused1 or      
misapplied1 be rendered equally         
injurious8 ,the highest advantages      
society is capable of conferring1 the   
loftiest flights of fancy1 the best     
affections of the heart1 the greatest   
strength of body1 the happiest activity 
of the mind1 the elements of fire  and  
water1 the blessings of liberty1 and1 in
 short1 all the excellent  gifts of     
,providence1 as well as all the         
ingenious contrivances of man1  may1 by 
these means be perverted1 their uses    
destroyed1 their ends and  objects      
defeated1 and their operations and      

effects rendered extensively            
mischievous and detrimental4    ,the    
general disadvantages which solitude is 
certainly capable of  producing1 cannot 
be lessened by conceding to its         
adversaries1 that it  is1 when sought   
under unfavorable circumstances1        
inauspicious to human  happiness4 ,it   
would be overstepping the sacred        
boundaries of truth1 and  violating the 
rights of candor1 not to admit that     
irrational solitude  frequently         
overclouds the reason1 contracts the    
understanding1 vitiates  the manners1   
inflames the passions1 corrupts the     
imagination1 sours  the temper1 and     
debases the whole character of its      
votaries4 ,nor is it  necessary to deny1
 that many of them instead of employing 
the delightful  leisure which retirement
 affords1 to hush the jarring passions1 
to  chastise the fancy1 to elevate and  
adorn the mind1 and to reform and       
meliorate the heart1 have been too often
 occupied in the most frivolous         

pursuits1 and in the indulgence of the  
most sordid and criminal desires4       
,but these instances in which the pure  
and peaceful retreats of solitude  have 
been tainted and disturbed by the       
vicious and turbulent desires of  the   
world1 only demonstrate the infirm1     
corrupt1 and imperfect nature  of the   
species1 and not in the smallest degree1
 depreciate the value of  those high    
advantages which result from occasional 
and well regulated  solitude4    ,it is 
said1 by a celebrated ,german writer1 in
 a poetical personification  of         
solitude1 that she holds in one hand a  
cup of bliss1 in which she  presents    
unceasing sweets to the lips of the     
happy2 and in the other  grasps an      
envenomed dagger1 which she plants with 
increasing tortures in  the bosom of the
 wretched2 but this must be considered  
as the language  of the muse1 and mere  
flight of poetic fancy2 except1 indeed1 
so far as  it tends to enforce the idea1
 that virtue will always be happy1 and  

vice  forever miserable2 for retirement1
 while it pours the balm of comfort     
into the aching bosom of the            
unfortunate1 and offers a cordial1      
cheering  as nectar1 to the drooping    
spirits of the wise and virtuous1 only  
operates as a corrosive1 agonizing      
poison1 on the constitutions of the     
weak and vicious4    ,it is a gross     
mistake1 to suppose that the pleasures  
of social life are  incompatible with   
the benefits to be derived from         
solitude4 ,they may not  only be        
intermingled with1 but made mutually to 
aid and augment each  other4 ,solitude  
may surely be enjoyed without undergoing
 an exile from  the world2 and society  
may be freely mixed with1 without       
absolutely  renouncing the pleasures of 
retirement4 ,the circumstances of life1 
indeed1 call loudly on every mind to    
interchange the pursuits of activity    
and scenes of quietude and repose4 ,the 
alliance of solitude and society  is    
necessary to the perfection not only of 

the intellectual character1  but to the 
corporeal constitution of man4 ,to      
conclude that the duties of  life must  
necessarily be neglected by devoting a  
portion of our time to  solitude1 is    
much more erroneous than to conclude    
that those duties are  not always       
fulfilled amidst the pleasures or       
business of society4    ,daily          
observation proves most clearly1 that   
many of the charms1 and some  of the    
benefits1 of rural retreat1 may be      
enjoyed without retiring to  any very   
considerable distance from the          
metropolis1 the seat of social  joys and
 interested activity4 ,petrarch1 during 
his residence in the city  of ,parma1   
though extremely flattered by the       
friendship shown him1 was  glad to steal
 from public life as often as he could1 
and to indulge the  high delight he     
naturally felt in wandering through the 
fields and woods  which surrounded the  
metropolis4 ,one day1 led by his love of
 exercise1  he passed the river of      

,lenza1 which is three miles from       
,parma1 and found  himself in the       
territory of ,rhegio1 in a forest which 
is called ,sylva  ,plana1 or ,low ,wood3
 though it is situated upon a hill1 from
 whence are  discovered the ,alps1 and  
all ,cisalpine ,gaul4 ,aged oaks1 whose 
heads  seemed to touch the clouds1      
sheltered the avenues of the forest from
  the rays of the sun3 while the fresh  
breezes which descended from the        
neighboring mountains1 and the little   
rivulets which brawled along its        
skirts1 tempered the meridian heats of  
the day1 and preserved to the  earth1   
even in the greatest droughts1 a soft   
verdure1 enamelled with the  finest     
flowers4 ,birds of every kind warbled   
forth their rural songs from  the thick 
coverts1 while deer1 and every animal of
 the chase1 sported  through the        
purlieus4 ,in the middle of this        
beautiful forest nature had  formed a   
romantic theatre1 which1 from its       
enchanting decorations1 she  seemed to  

have designed for the residence of the  
muses4 ,the charms  of this delightful  
retreat struck the mind of ,petrarch    
with a sort of  inspiration1 and revived
 so strongly his original taste for     
solitude  that on his return to ,parma1 
he endeavored to procure some spot near 
the environs of the city1 to which he   
might occasionally retire from  the     
fatigues of his archdeaconry1 and       
indulge his mind in the blessings  of   
innocence1 and the delights of rural    
repose4 ,the industry of his  inquiries 
soon furnished him with a small cottage1
 exactly suited to his  wishes1 situated
 at the end of the city1 near the abbey 
of ,st4 ,anthony4  ,to this place he    
fondly and frequently retired1 whenever 
he could escape  from the duties of his 
church1 and the invitations of his      
friends4 ,the  superiority of his       
talents had at this time attracted the  
attention  and applause of mankind2 and 
his engaging manners secured to him the 
respect and esteem of the nobles of     

,parma1 who besieged him with the  most 
friendly and flattering importunities to
 partake of their daily  parties of     
pleasure4 ,petrarch1 however1 had formed
 notions of happiness  very foreign to  
those which result from the society of  
luxurious lords  or fashionable females1
 to whom1 in general poetry afforded no 
delight1  nor philosophy instruction2   
and the companions to whom he could     
afford  neither amusement nor           
information1 were not likely to afford  
him much  satisfaction4 ,the quiet and  
simple pleasures of retirement were more
  delightful to his mind than all the   
elegances and splendors of ,parma2 but  
this partiality to retirement did not   
induce him to renounce the rational     
society which a few select friends1 with
 whom he had closely connected  himself1
 was occasionally capable of affording  
him4 8,so conveniently10  says he1 8is  
this delightful cottage situated1 that  
,i enjoy all the  advantages of rural   
retirement1 and yet retain within my    

reach all the  pleasures with which this
 gay and elegant city abounds4 ,the     
society of  a few select friends        
recreates my mind whenever it is        
distracted by the  anxieties of study1  
or stagnated by the stilness of         
solitude2 and when  ,i am satiated with 
the pleasures of the town1 ,i fly with  
rapture to the  sweet repose1 and to all
 the interesting and endearing          
occupations of  this charming retreat4  
,oh6 may the kindness of fortune long   
indulge me  in the enjoyment of this    
neutral state2 this happy alternation of
 rural  tranquillity and convivial      
solace6 a state of felicity to which    
neither  the anchorites of ,egypt1 nor  
the philosophers of ,greece1 ever       
attained4  ,in this humble abode1 let me
 quietly pass the remainder of my days1 
unseduced by the charms of greatness1   
and uninterrupted by the pleasures  of  
the world4 ,fly1 all ye vain delusions  
and fantastic dreams1 from  this cottage
 of content1 and seek your native       

territories1 the palaces  of princes1   
and the altars of ambition60 ,the voice 
of wisdom and virtue  calls aloud on    
every man to adopt the scheme of        
happiness which ,petrarch  so           
successfully practised4 ,by thus        
dividing our time between the busy      
cares and innocent amusements of public 
life1 and the studious and  tranquil    
pleasures of retirement1 between the gay
 pursuits of personal  gratifications1  
and the more noble and elevated         
exercises of intellect1  we may avoid   
the dangers of contracting1 on the one  
hand1 a passion for  light and frivolous
 dissipation1 and on the other a joyless
 disposition  to misanthropic severity2 
and may shun the most1 if not all the   
evil  consequences which either solitude
 or society is capable of producing1    
which when indulged irrationally1 or    
indiscreetly1 in general prove the      
,scylla or ,charybdis of our lives4     
,these are the observations which it has
 occurred to me to make upon the        

advantages or disadvantages with which  
those important means of human          
happiness are respectively pregnant4 ,i 
can truly say1 that ,i have felt1       
whenever the cares of life1 and the     
duties of my profession1 have allowed   
me leisure to retire1 the most sublime  
and satisfactory enjoyment from         
solitude2 and ,i sincerely wish that    
every one who is disposed to taste  it1 
may receive the same comfort and        
pleasure from its charms4 ,but ,i       
exhort them1 while they enjoy the sacred
 blessings of repose1 not to  neglect   
the social virtues1 the consolations of 
friendship1 or the  endearments of love2
 but so manage the wants of nature1 and 
arrange  the business and concerns of   
life1 as to find an adequate portion of 
leisure for the noble duties of         
retirement1 as well as for company and  
conversation of the world4 ,may they in 
short1 enjoy the admiration  and esteem 
of their friends1 and a complacent      
approbation of their  own conduct1      

without losing that relish for the      
pleasures of rational  retirement1 by   
which alone these high advantages are   
most likely to be  gained4    ,to love  
all mankind1 and to promote1 to the     
utmost of our power1 the  happiness of  
all those with whom we are more         
intimately connected1 is  the highest   
injunction both of morality and         
religion4 ,but this important  duty     
certainly does not require that we      
should surrender ourselves with  servile
 obedience1 or abject submission1 to any
 one1 however superior  he may be1      
either in talents1 in station1 or in    
merit4 ,on the contrary1  it is the duty
 of every one1 not only to cultivate the
 inclination1 but  to reserve the power 
of retiring occasionally from the world1
 without  indulging a disposition to    
renounce its society or contemn its     
manners4    ,while we assert1 with manly
 resolution1 the independent spirit of  
human  nature1 our happiness may be     
considerably augmented1 by extracting   

from  the multitudinous affairs of the  
world1 the various enjoyments and wise  
instructions it is capable of affording4
 ,society is the school of wisdom1  and 
solitude the temple of virtue4 ,in the  
one we learn the art of living  with    
comfort among our fellow creatures1 and 
in the other1 of living  with quietude  
by ourselves4 ,a total retreat from the 
world would place  us aside from that   
part which ,providence chiefly intended 
us to act2 but  without occasional      
retreat it is certain that we must act  
that part very  ill4 ,there will be     
neither consistency in the conduct1 nor 
dignity in the  character1 of one who   
sets apart no share of his time for     
meditation and  reflection4 8,in the    
heat and bustle of life10 says an       
eloquent preacher1  8while passion is   
every moment throwing false colors on   
the objects  around us1 nothing can be  
viewed in a just light4 ,if you wish    
that reason  should exert her native    
power1 you must step aside from the     

crowd into  the cold and silent shade4  
,it is thus that with sober and steady  
eye  she examines what is good or ill1  
what is wise or foolish1 in human       
conduct3 she looks back on the past2 she
 looks forward to a future3 and  forms  
plans not for the present moment only1  
but for the whole life4 ,how  should    
that man discharge any part of his duty 
aright1 who never suffers  his passions 
to cool8 ,and how should his passions   
cool1 who is engaged1  without          
interruption1 in the tumults of the     
world8 ,this incessant stir  may be     
called the perpetual drunkenness of     
life4 ,it raises that eager             
fermentation of spirit1 which will be   
ever sending forth the dangerous  fumes 
of rashness and folly4 ,whereas he who  
mingles rational retreat  with worldly  
affairs1 remains calm and master of     
himself4 ,he is not  whirled round1 and 
rendered giddy by the agitation of the  
world3 but from  that sacred retirement1
 in which he has been conversant among  

higher  objects1 comes forth into the   
world with manly tranquillity1 fortified
 by  principles which he has formed1 and
 prepared for whatever may befal40      
,sweet solitude6 when life's gay hours  
are past1      ,howe'er we range1 in    
thee we fix at last4      ,tossed       
through tempestuous seas1 the voyage    
o'er1      ,pale we look back and bless 
the friendly shore4      ,our own strict
 judges1 our past life we scan      ,and
 ask if glory hath enlarged the span2   
,if bright the prospect we the grave    
defy1      ,trust future ages1 and      
contented die4    ,,the ,,end4          
,,footnotes      #a ,dissertatio        
,physiologica de irritabilitate quam    
publice defendet4  ,joh4 ,georgius      
,zimmerman4 ,goett4 #dto4 #agea4    #b  
,the following is a correct list of his 
writings1 in the order in  which they   
appear to have been published3          
#a4 ,dissertatio ,inauguralis de        
,irritabilitate1 #dto4 ,gottingen1      
#agea4         #b4 ,the life of         

,professor ,haller1 #hvo4 ,zurich1      
#agee4         #c4 ,thoughts on the     
earthquake which was felt on the #ith of
          ,december1 #agee1 in          
,swisserland1 #dto4 #agef4         #d4  
,the ,subversion of ,lisbon1 a ,poem1   
#dto4 #aggf4         #e4 ,meditations on
 ,solitude1 #hvo4 #agef4         #f4    
,essay on ,national ,pride1 #hvo4       
,zurich1 #agfd4         #g4 ,treatise on
 ,experience in ,physic1 #hvo4 ,zurich1 
#agfd4         #h4 ,treatise on the     
,dysentery1 #hvo4 ,zurich1 #agfg4       
#i4 ,essay on ,solitude1 #dto4 #aggc4   
#aj4 ,essay on ,lavator's ,phisiognomy4 
,hanover1 #aggh4        #aa4 ,essays1   
consisting of agreeable and instructive 
,tales1 #hvo4          #aggi4           
#ab4 ,conversations with the king of    
,prussia4        #ac4 ,treatise on      
,frederick the ,great1 #aghh4           
#ad4 ,select views of the ,life1 ,reign 
and ,character of ,frederick            
the ,great4        #ae4 ,a variety of   
works published in the ,helvetic        

,journal and in          the ,journals  
of the ,physiological ,society at       
,zurich4        #af4 ,a ,work on        
,zoology4    #c ,the king only survived 
the departure of his physician five     
weeks2 he  died on the #aath of ,august1
 #aghf4    #d ,hnigsberg4