of this increase only, which yields delight, but there arises yet a greater, from a contemplation of the powers of the earth, and vegetation. ***** 8. Old age, in a person graced with honors, is attended with such respect and authority, that the sense of this alone is preferable to all the pleasures youth can enjoy. Yet in all I have said, I desire to be understood to mean the old age of, such persons only, as have in their youth laid solid foundations for esteem in advancing years; for on no other terms ought we to expect it. 9 And hence it was, that what I once said in a public speech, met with such general applause, when I observed, that miserable was that man's old age, who needed the help of oratory to defend him. Gray hairs and wrinkles avail nothing to confer the authority I am here speaking of: it must be a series of good actions, and nothing but a life honorably and virtuously led, through all the advancing steps of it, can crown old age with this blessed harvest of its past labors. 10 Nor are those common marks of respet though of but little moment in themselves, to be altogether slighted; such as morning salutations; to have the way or upperhand given; to be waited on home or from home, and to be consulted; which, both with us and in all well regulated states, in proportion as they are more or less so, are more strictly observed and practised. Lysander of Sparta, was wont to say, that Lacedemon was of all places, the most honorable sanctuary for old age. 11 I find this also related, that a very old man coming into the theatre at Athens, to see a play, and the throng being so great that he could find no room nor seat among his own citizens, passing along that part where the embassadors of Lacedemon, then present, were placed; they all immediately rose up to give him a seat. 12 The Athenians observing this, clapped, and much applauded the action; upon which one of the Spartans passed this just reflection, that the Athenians (he perceived) knew very well what was right, but they knew not how to do it. ** But it is said, people as they grow in years, become more peevish, morose, and passionate; and you may add covetous too; but as I have said, these are the faults of the men, and not of old age. 13 Yet something of a little moroseness might probably, though not altogether justly be excused; for they may sometimes be apt to think themselves slighted and played on; and further, a frail body can bear but little, and therefore will be the sooner offended. But all this may by proper application be prevented and remedied: for by reflection and a watchful guard kept on the motions of the heart, natural temper may be sweetened, and our conduct softened. A gravity with some severity is to be allowed; but by no means ill-nature. 14 We now come to the fourth and last charge, which is thought most nearly to affect old age, and to give the greatest anxiety of all others, viz. the approach of death, which 'tis certain can be at no great distance. **** The spring represents youth, and shows what fruits may be expected; the following seasons are for ripening and gathering in those fruits; and the best fruits of old age are, as I have repeatedly said, the recollecting, and, as it were, feeding on the remembrance of that train and store of good and virtuous deeds, of which in the course of life, we lay in as a kind of provision for this season. 15 But further, we are to consider, that as all we enjoy is frem nature, whatever proceeds from, or is conformable to the established ws of this, must in itself be good. Now can any thing be more agreeable to those laws, than that people in old age should die, since more inconsistently with the order of nature, we find the same thing happens to youth, even in the prime of their years. 16 But the difference is great; for young men seem to be forced from life, as fires are extinguished by great quantities of water thrown on them; when on the contrary, old men expire of themselves, like a flame, when all its fuel is spent. And as unripe fruit requires some force to part it from its native bough, but when come to its full maturity, it drops of itself, without any hand to touch it; so young people die, by something violent or unnatural; but the old by mere ripeness. 17 The thoughts of which to me are now become so agreeable, that the nearer I draw to my end, it seems like discovering the land at sea, that, after the tossings of a tedious and stormy voyage, will yield me a safe and quiet harbor. **** 18 We ought then to conclude, that as there is a succession of pursuits and pleasures, in the several stages of life, the one dying away, as the other advances and takes place ; so in the same manner are those of old age to pass off in their turn. And when this satiety of life has fully ripened us, we are then quietly to lie down in death, as our last resting place, where all anxiety ends, and cares and fears subsist no more! * * 19 I am therefore far from being of the mind of some, and amongst them we have known men of good learning, who lament and bewail the condition of human life, as if it were a state of real misery; for I am not at all uneasy that I came into this world; because I have so lived in it, that I have reason to believe, I have been of some use to it; and when the close comes, I shall quit life as I would an inn, and not as a real home. For nature appears to me to have ordained this station here for us, as a place of sojournment, a transitory abode only, and not as a fixed settlement or permanent habitation. * * 20 But whether immortal or not, or whatever is to be our future state; as nature sets limits to all its other productions, it is certainly fit, our frail bodies should, at their proper season, be gathered, or drop into the grave. 21 Now, these my friends, are the means, (since it was these you wanted to know) by which I make my old age siteasy and light on me; and thus I not only disarm it of every uneasiness, but even render it sweet and delightful. • CHAPTER 4. DIALOGUES BETWEEN PHILOCLES AND HORATIO, MEETING ACCIDENTALLY IN THE FIELDS, CONCERNING VIRTUE AND PLEASURE. BY DR. BEN. FRANKLIN. SECTION I. Reasonable self-denial, economy and prudence, contrasted with unrestrained sensual indulgences, as the means of human happiness. Philocles. My friend, Horatio! I am very glad to see you; prithee how came such a man as you alone? and musing too? What misfortune in your pleasures has sent you to philosophy for relief? Horatio. You guess very right, my dear Philocles: We pleasure hunters are never without them; and yet so enchanting is the game, that we cannot quit the chase. How calm and undisturbed is your life! how free from present embarrassments and future cares! I know you love me, and look with compassion on my conduct: show me then the path which leads up to that constant and invariable good, which I have heard you so beautifully describe, and which you seem só fully to possess. Phil. There are few men in the world I value more than S you, Horatio! for amidst all your foibles, and painful pursuits of pleasure, I have oft observed in you an honest heart, and a mind strongly bent towards virtue. I wish from my soul I could assist you in acting steadily the part of a reasonable creature; for, if you would not think it a paradox, I should tell you I love you better than you do yourself. Hor. A paradox indeed! better than I do myself! when I love my dear self so well, that I love every thing else for my own sake. Phil. He only loves himself well, who rightly and judiciously loves himself. Hor. What do you mean by that, Philocles? you men of reason and virtue are always dealing in mysteries, though you laugh at them when the church makes them. I think he loves himself very well and very judiciously too, as you call it, who allows himself to do whatever he pleases. Phil. What, though it be the ruin and destruction of that very self which he loves so well! That man alone loves himself rightly, who procures the greatest possible good to himself, through the whole of his existence; and so pursues pleasure as not to give for it more than it is worth. Hor. That depends all upon opinion. Who shall judge what the pleasure is worth? Suppose that pleasure in general is so favorite a mistress, that I will take her as men do their wives, for better, for worse; minding no consequences, nor regarding what is to come. Why should I not do it? Phil. Suppose, Horatio ! that a friend of yours entered into the world, about two and twenty, with a healthful and vigorous body, and a fair plentiful estate of about five hundred pounds a year; and yet before he had reached thirty, should, by following his pleasures, and not, as you say, duly regarding consequences, have run out of his estate, and disabled his body to that degree, that he had neither the means nor capacity of enjoyment left; what would you say to this man's conduct? Is it wrong by opinion or fancy only? Or is there really a right and a wrong in the case? Is not one opinion of life and action juster than another? Or, one sort of conduct preferable to another? Or, does that miserable son of pleasure, appear as reasonable and lovely a being in your eyes, as a man who, by prudently and rightly gratifying his natural passions, had preserved his body in full health, and his estate entire, and enjoyed both to a good old age, and then died with a thankful heart for the good things he had received, and with an entire submission to the will of him who first called him into being. Say, Horatio! are these men equally wise and happy? And is every thing to be measured by mere fancy and opinion, without considering whether that fancy or opinion be right? Hor. Hardly so, neither, I think; yet, sure the wise and good Author of nature could never make us to plague us! He could never give us passions, on purpose to subdue and conquer them; nor produce this self of mine, or any other self, only that it may be denied; for, that is denying the works of the great Creator himself. Self-denial, then, which is what I suppose you mean by prudence, seems to me not only absurd, but very dishonorable to that supreme Wisdom and Goodness which is supposed to make so contradictory a creature, that must be always fighting with himself in order to be at rest, and undergo voluntary hardships in order to be happy: Are we created sick only to be commanded to be sound? Are we born under one law, our passions, and yet bound to another, that of reason? Answer me, Philocles, for I am warmly concerned for the honor of nature, the mother of us all. Phil. I find, Horatio, my two characters have frightened you, so that you decline the trial of what is good, by reason; and had rather make a bold attack upon Providence, the usual way of you gentlemen of fashion, who, when, by living in defiance of the eternal rules of reason, you have plunged yourselves into a thousand difficulties, endeavor to make yourselves easy, by throwing the burden upon nature. You are, Horatio, in a very miserable condition indeed; for you say, you cannot be happy if you control your passions; and you feel yourself miserable by an unrestrained gratification of them; so that here is evil, irremediable evil either way. Hor. That is very true, at least it appears so to me. Pray, what have you to say, Philocles, in honor of Nature or Providence; methinks I am in pain for her. How do you rescue her? Phil. This, my dear Horatio, I have to say, that what you find fault with, and clamor against, as the most terrible evil in the world, self-denial, is really the greatest good, and the highest gratification: If indeed you use the word in the sense of some sour moralists, you will have just reason to laugh at it; but if you take it as understood by philosophers, and mén of sense, you will presently see her charms, and fly to her embraces, notwithstanding her demure looks, as absolutely necessary to produce even your own darling sole good, pleasure: for, self-denial is a natural means of procuring more pleasure than you can taste without it, so that this grave saint |