Meditations and Moral Sketches

by François Guizot

And while she thus interested herself for them, and strove to lighten or partly bear the burden of life, she also sympathised with men of all classes and all conditions, and with the burdens all bear, the blows which reach all, the wounds which all receive as they tread their appointed path.

To-day, while occupying ourselves much and justly with the material sufferings and fatigue which are shared by so many, we forget too much the moral fatigues and sufferings of which all partake; the trials, the agonies of the soul, the mistakes, the ennui, the anguish, in short, the universal lot of man—which are the more poignant as the mind has more freedom and life more leisure.

High or low, rich or poor, the elite or the multitude, let us pity each other, let us pity every one. We are all, as we advance in our career, "weary and heavy laden"; we all deserve pity.

We deserve it now more than ever. Never, it is true, has the condition of man been more equal or better. But the desires of men have far outrun their progress. Never was ambition more impatient and widespread. Never were so many hearts a prey to the thirst for wealth and pleasure. Pleasures refined and grovelling, a thirst of material well-being and of intellectual variety, a spirit of activity and luxury, of adventure and idleness: everything appears possible, desirable, and accessible to all. It is not that passion is strong, or that man is disposed to take much trouble for the gratification of his desires. He wishes feebly, desires immoderately; and the great scope of his desire throws him into a state of uneasiness, in which all that he already possesses appears but as the drop of water forgotten as soon as swallowed, and which irritates thirst instead of quenching it. The world has never seen such a conflict of imperfect desires, fancies, pretensions, exactions; never heard such a clamour of voices demanding together as their right all they have not and all that pleases them.

And these voices are not raised to God. Ambition, is at once extended and debased. When the teachers of the people were religious preceptors, they tried to detach the popular thought from the things of earth, and by raising desires and hopes to heaven, to restrain and calm them here. They knew that here, do what they might, satisfaction was impossible. The popular teachers of this day think otherwise and speak another language. In the presence of the hard lot and burning ambition of man, at the very time that they are displaying their misery and fomenting their desires, they are telling them that this earth contains what will satisfy them; and that if each be not as happy as he would be, it is not in the nature of things nor of his own nature that he should complain, but of the vices of society, and the usurpations of a certain class of men. All are placed in this world to be happy; all have the same right to happiness; the world can afford happiness to all.

Words like these resound daily in the ears of all, knock at the portals of every heart, penetrate by every crevice into the most remote folds of society.

And then we are astonished at the deep agitation and uneasiness under which nations and individuals, states and souls are labouring! For myself, I wonder the uneasiness is not greater, the agitation more violent, the explosion more sudden. Such ideas and such words are enough to set humanity astray and rouse it to revolt. And the preserving care of Providence, the innate and spontaneous wisdom which men cannot absolutely shake off, must be powerful to prevent such language—unceasingly repeated and universally heard—from plunging the world again into chaos.

No, it is not true that this earth possesses that which will suffice for the ambition and happiness of her inhabitants. It is not true that the untoward results or vices of human institutions are the sole or even the principal causes of the sad and painful lot of so many among men. Let these institutions become daily more just, more careful of the general welfare; it is the right of mankind. It is to the honour of our age that it adopted this thought and perseveres in trying to accomplish it. Former times took too light a share in the sufferings of the multitude. Their pretensions were too humble as regards justice and happiness for all. Ours are more extended, more lofty; and we give, with good reason, to our advance in this path the noble name of civilization. God forbid that we should turn aside from the noble work, or be discouraged about such a noble hope. But we must not feed ourselves with pride and illusion, we must not promise to ourselves that which we cannot expect to attain of ourselves and by our ingenuity. There is a defect in our nature and an evil in our condition which eludes all human efforts. The disorder is within ourselves, and were every other source dried up, would arise from ourselves and our own will. An inequality of suffering is amongst the providential laws of our destiny. It is at once superiority and infirmity, greatness and misery. As free beings, we can create and do in fact without ceasing create evil. As immortal beings, neither the secrets of our lot nor the limits of our ambition are on this earth, and the life we lead here is but a very short scene of the unknown life which awaits us. Regulate institutions as you will, distribute all enjoyment as you please, neither your wisdom nor your wealth will fill the abyss. The liberty of man is stronger than the institutions of society. The mind of man is greater than worldly goods. There will always be found in him more desires than social knowledge can regulate or satisfy, more sufferings than it can either prevent or cure.