A FUGITIVE THOUGHT.
Musing the other day in a pensive attitude, my head reclining on my hand, and my elbow resting on the table—methought—Why is the mind either incessantly haunted with gloom, or wrapt in extacy? Why is man generally peevish, morose, sullen, fretful or passionate, and seldom enjoying that beautiful equilibrium of temper that alone can produce happiness to himself and others? The object of all (said I to myself) is to acquire comfort and happiness; but how wide do they steer of the mark, that give way to hateful passions. I recollected how trivial faults of persons in my employ made me impatient—that I sometimes was subject to those disagreeable emotions, and that I thereby made those and myself unhappy: I bethought myself of recent trials, which, though afflictive, should not have excited discontent; and I put up a fervent petition to heaven, to assist me in a resolution I then formed of never giving way to chagrin, but of always endeavouring to possess, at least, a pleasing equanimity. I am no enemy to transports of joy, when not carried to excess: I fancy, that for this end are the passions given us; but we have perverted into a source of uneasiness what was designed to increase our pleasure, and to make this life of probation less burthensome.
I will, continued I, from this, endeavour to be as happy myself as possible, and it shall be my care to cause those around me, as far as lies in my power, to participate in my bliss. My domestics, and all under my care, shall be but gently reproved when they err; or rather, I will acquaint them merely with their faults, and if they are wise they surely will improve. My children I will advise with the utmost tenderness, and use every art to allure them into the paths of virtue; good shall be represented to them in the most glowing and fascinating colours, and vice shall be depicted with the most frightful, hideous and forbidding appearance. My wife, the partner of my joys, must be the partaker of my happiness—hand in hand shall we go on in this blissful path—no jar shall disturb our harmony, nor shall discontent or anger ever wrinkle our brows: then shall we fulfil the design of our Maker in sending us into the world, and shall pass through its variegated scenes with as much comfort and content as can possibly be enjoyed here below by mortals.
N. L.