The reign of the general will is the only reign that maintains public felicity; from the moment when power secures independence to some parts of the state, corruption introduces itself, and soon becomes manifest by the misery of the oppressed. Slavery and virtue are incompatible. Slavery breaks all the ties that connect man with his fellow-creature; it relaxes and destroys the two springs that contribute most to the development of our faculties, the esteem of ourselves, and glory, which is only the result of public esteem; it suffers nothing to subsist but odious force and degrading fear. Tyranny equally debases him who exercises it and those whom it enslaves; with it all lose the sentiment of truth, the idea of justice, and the taste of good. It is to him who knows the extent and the limits of his rights, that we may look for a respect for those of others, a generous intrepidity in their defense, and the noble care of their preser vation. True courage belongs only to the free man. Of what can those be capable who are nothing except by the will of the master? And to what obligations would he believe himself restricted, who must fancy himself of a nature superior to that of the people he commands? The enjoyment and the inviolability of the first rights of social man,- personal safety and property,— with the power of claiming them in case of an accidental injury, properly constitute the essence of liberty. This is the masterpiece of legislation; but so many things prevent its being carried into execution, or counteract its being brought to perfection and concur in its ruin, that very seldom is it seen to subsist, even for a short time, unimpaired. All nations are not capable of enjoying liberty; the same nation cannot support it equally at all times. The climate, the soil, and the species of its productions, the situation of the places, their extent, etc., pave the way to it or estrange it from its inhabitants, according to the spirit, the wants, and the resources which it affords them. Liberty is for the most part the companion of poverty; the fertility of a country abounding in superfluities, stifles it in a manner by its richness. And, indeed, it is pretty generally true, that the finest countries are those which have the worst governments. Bare competence, or comfort acquired by labor, makes men honest and the state happy; in this, it is with the nation as with the individual, too many wants excite cupidity and engender corruption. The English are said to be free, and I believe they are so more than their neighbors,-more than most of the nations of Europe, except the Swiss; but commerce and the love of gain, riches, and luxury, by weakening their morals, insensibly sap their constitution, or render useless a great part of its effects. People are often mistaken respecting the word liberty. I give not this name to the anarchy into which fell again certain republics; such, for instance, as Syracuse, after the death or expulsion of the tyrants who had governed them by intrigue or by violence, and whom they had given themselves through weakness. Liberty suits none but simple men, who have few wants. When we consider the infinite care, the continual vigilance, which the maintenance of the laws demand in a free state, the time required for the acts of sovereignty which regard each of the citizens, we are sensible how few of them remain for other occupations. If we reflect, besides, that industry and the arts open the first door to inequality, insulate those who profess them by affording them extraordinary means of acquiring property, and offering them resources independent of the common good, we shall perceive how great was the wisdom of the legislators who banished them from their states. The Lacedæmonians were nothing else than husbandmen and soldiers; but they had helots? It would be very astonishing if, in the same government, the slavery of one part of the species. should be absolutely necessary to the perfect happiness of the other. This idea makes me shudder; I dare not investigate it. I hasten to arrive at what suits me much better; I leave metaphysical reveries and political speculations to the more able; I prefer what more nearly concerns action, and I think that is my element. I understand by liberty of mind, not only that sound view of an enlightened judgment which is not disturbed by prejudices or by passions, but also that firm and tranquil temper of a strong soul, superior to events. I call it philosophy, because it is the fruit of wisdom and one of its most unequivocal proofs; it is under these titles that I regard it as a treasure. I add that I am determined to labor to acquire it; nothing is more true nor more easy. With reason sufficient to appreciate things at what they are worth, we may suffer ourselves to be affected too warmly by some of them, for want of having contracted the habit of conquering ourselves by courageous and daily exercise. The same vivacity of feeling which on many occasions elevates us above ourselves, often sinks us again below our level by the frequent revolutions of which it renders us the sport. The empire over ourselves is the finest of empires, that of which the conquest costs us most, and the possession of which is the sweetest. We think we have done much when we have familiarized ourselves with austerity,- let us speak more correctly, with grief; it seems that it is it which, acting on our organs in the most immediate manner, must principally disturb the liberty of the mind. Yet if it be true that the value which we attach to things makes almost their whole importance, and that the force of ideas and the power of imagination are capable of diverting us from the actual impressions which they make on our senses, it must be acknowledged that physical evils are not the most dangerous for an elevated and delicate soul. It is not precisely in undergoing such and such trials that our courage is manifested, but it is in supporting the loss of what is dearest to us, and this, too, is where it generally fails. Alas! we are so constituted for pain, that all the efforts employed to bear us up against it, serve only to render it more acute in certain parts. The better we have known the variety of those things which fix the desires of the misled vulgar, and the more we have diminished the objects of our esteem, the more, too, do we remain violently attached to those which we preserve and which we think we ought to distinguish. Reason, virtue, everything draws these ties the closer; if cruel necessity chance to break them, what dreadful torments! the disorder of the body is nothing; the rigors of fate scarcely deserved to be mentioned; but in the pains which proceed from the heart, or which strike at it, I can do no more than wrap up my head and waste away in silence. O sensibility! delight and torment of our days, how much do thy sacrifices exercise and fatigue our philosophy! it is with the greatest justice that has been established, as the first principle of happiness, that secret enjoyment of virtue, which consists in the recollection of having done well, and in the resolution of continuing to do so; beyond that, every thing is full of illusions and falsehoods, and the sweetest accessories to this first pleasure are crossed by poignant and bitter afflictions. Where is the man who has learned to content himself with this satisfaction and dispense with every other? His felicity is independent and unchangeable; that is the true sage and my hero; he alone can preserve perfect liberty of mind. We have so perverted the use of the blessings bestowed on us by nature, that we have reduced ourselves no longer to find, but in their voluntary privation, the peace that ought to accompany them. We must love mankind sufficiently to concern ourselves about their welfare, and esteem them so little as not to expect any return on their part. Judgment appears to me to consist in discovering that we can accomplish our own happiness only in laboring at that of others; reason seems to me the firm resolution of acting always agreeably to this principle; the highest degree of virtue is to do good with enthusiasm, because it is honorable and delightful. Sublime delirium, by which the exalted soul finds unheard-of strength, and puts itself on a footing with the gods! Happy he who knows its transports and renders himself worthy of ever enjoying them! Exact calculation and cold reasoning never make us capable of doing so; it belongs to feelings alone to inspire us with them. Reflection sometimes damps the ardor of our efforts, as repose cools courage; in point of morals, as soon as we are certain of having adopted the best, we must follow them blindfold. But it is to the fascination, to the enchantment of virtue alone, that it is allowable to subject the liberty of the mind. I touch lightly on these subjects; how many things concerning each of them do I perceive confusedly in my mind, and which a little application would draw forth! But I will not labor: I rapidly sketch the most prominent ideas, and I wait for the others. to become clear. Complete. From the works of Mme. Roland. H APPINESS! PENSÉES ON HAPPINESS every one talks of it, few know it, and those who feel it, waste not their time in describing it. I, who am meditating on it I enjoy it not at this moment. Feeling fills the soul; every enjoyment absorbs profound reflections; he, whose mind discusses matters coolly, is certainly not affected in a warm and touching manner. Such never wrote but from the want of something to divert his mind: how many others would have thought little had not active grief unfolded their faculties? Complete. DOING GOOD ENEFICENCE has this peculiarity, that the more we exercise it, the more pleasure we find in its exercise. We attach our. selves to the unfortunate object that we relieve, and the assistance we give him becomes a want to those by whom it is administered. He who has once caused the tears of gratitude to flow, and who can afterwards seek a pleasure sweeter than that, is not worthy of feeling all the charm of doing good. Complete. BORROWED IDEAS T IS useful to borrow the ideas of others; but the habit of consulting them, makes the mind contract a sort of sloth and dullness, which renders it incapable of ever determining by its own powers. Reading extends the judgment; to form it, is the province of meditation. There are some people who are stupid from dint of science; so many names, facts, and experiences are heaped up in their head, that natural genius has been smothered by them; their conversation is a repertory of what they have read, without ever being the expression of what they have reasoned upon; it does very well to make use of them as of a dictionary, but the thinking, contemplative being must be sought for elsewhere. Too much reading overloads the memory, and dulls the imagination; meditation, on the contrary, carried to excess, heats, exalts, and leads to madness. Complete. |