It is therefore, I repeat, only the mass of knowledge, the intelligence which has pervaded a whole nation, which can form the basis of permanent, solid and rational institutions, through which society and individuals may be made better and happier. Towards this the world now tends. Politics, in the highest signification of the word, is the religion of the present time. For that, all the enthusiasm of mankind is awakened; and should crusades now be undertaken, that alone would be the object. The notion of representative chambers has now-a-days a more electric effect than that of a ruling church; and even the fame of the warrior begins to grow pale, by the side of that enlightened statesman and citizen.
“Prove all things, and hold fast that which is good!”
But now ‘trêve de bavardage.’ In the mountains I should not have bored you with so much of it; but within the dingy walls of a city I feel as Faust did within those of his study. But a little breeze has sprung up. To-morrow a fresher gale will swell my sails. Wherever I am,—in prison, or under the blue sky,—I am, and shall ever be,
Your true, heartily devoted,
L——.
P. S. This is my last letter from Dublin. I have had my carriage packed and sent to S——; dismissed my Englishmen, and shall travel under the ‘nom de guerre’ you know of,—which is now become ‘romantic,’ by Bath and Paris with one honest Irish servant. I shall neither hurry, nor stay longer than necessary. The most difficult business—taking leave of friends—is done, and nothing now detains me.
LETTER XLIV.
Holyhead, December 15th, 1828.
Dear and faithful Friend,
You have often called me child-like, and no praise is more grateful to me. Yes, Heaven be praised, dear Julia! children we shall both remain, so long as we live, though a hundred wrinkles sat upon our brows. But children are fond of play, are rather ‘inconsequent,’ and are ever on the watch for pleasure: ‘C’est là l’essentiel.’ Thus then you must judge of me, and never expect much more from me. Do not therefore reproach me with wandering about without an object. Good Heaven! has not Parry, with his object, been obliged to sail three times to the north pole, and at last return without attaining it? Has not Napoleon for twenty years heaped victory on victory to pine away at last on St. Helena, because he had attained his object too early and too well? And what is generally the object of men? Not one of them can give an exact and definite account of it. The ostensible aim is always merely a part of the whole, often only the means to an end; and even the real and ulterior end frequently changes its form and its motives as these change their aspect. Thus it was with me. People have also collateral objects, which often seem the principal ones, because they do better to announce. Thus again it was with me. ‘Au bout du compte’ I am satisfied,—and what can one have more?