There are men, however, who dread genuine sensibility; and, under the conviction that it will multiply their pains, study to eradicate the germs of it from their soul.
Hume was unhappily an unbeliever; but I might easily cite from his life many honorable traits indicative of a good natural disposition. He remarked to a friend, who confided to him his secret sorrows, ‘you entertain an internal enemy, who will always hinder you from being happy. It is your sensibility of heart.’ ‘What!’ responded his friend with a kind of terror, ‘have you not sensibility?’ ‘No. My reason alone speaks, and it declares that it is right to soothe distress.’
In listening to this reply of Hume, we are at once struck with the idea, that the greater part of those who adopt his principles, do not pause at the same point with their model. They sink into that heartless class, who see all human calamities with a dry eye, provided they have no tendency to abridge their own enjoyments.
Suppose even that they pursue the lessons of the Scotch philosopher to better purpose; and without any emotion, without any impulse of heart, hold out a succoring hand to those who suffer. This, perhaps, may answer the claims of reason. But the social instinct will always repel that austere morality, which would give to the human heart an unnatural insensibility, and deprive it, if I may so say, of its amiable weakness. I would hardly desire to see a man oppose a courage, too stoical, to his own miseries. The natural tears which he sheds in extreme affliction, are his guaranty for the sympathy which he will feel for my sorrows.
It is a vile but common maxim, that two conditions are necessary to success in life. The one is, to have a selfish heart. The other, the adage of egotism, is, that to avoid suffering, we must stifle sensibility. I say to these heartless philosophers of the world, that if the only requisite is to avoid suffering, through destitution of feeling, to die is the surest method of all.[40]
The secret of happiness does not consist in avoiding all evils; for in that case, we must learn to love nothing. If there be a lot on earth worthy of envy, it is that of a man, good and tender hearted, who beholds his own creation in the happiness of all who surround him. Let him who would be happy, strive to encircle himself with happy beings. Let the happiness of his family be the incessant object of his thoughts. Let him divine the sorrows and anticipate the wishes of his friends. Let him inspire the fidelity of affection in his domestics, by pledging to them a comfortable and pleasant old age. Let him, as far as may be, preserve the same servants, and give them all needed succor and counsel. In fine, let the inmates and dependents of the house all respire a calm and regulated happiness. Let even the domestic animals know, that humanity presides over their condition.
Entertaining such views, it will be easy to see in what light I contemplate those men who take pleasure in witnessing the combats of animals. What man who has a heart, can see spectacles, equally barbarous and detestable, with satisfaction; such as dogs tearing to pieces a bull, exhausted with wounds, cocks mangling each other, the encounter of brutal boxers, or of bad boys in the streets, encouraged to the diabolical sport of fighting? These are the true schools of cowardly and savage ferocity, and not of manly courage, as too many have supposed.[41] But it is not my purpose to draw a painting in detail of the abominations of cruelty, or the pleasures of beneficence, and I resume my rapid and desultory reflections.
To preserve the sentiments of beneficence and sensibility, let us avoid the pride which mars them. Beneficence in one respect resembles love. Like that, it courts concealment and the shade.
The most useful direction we can give to beneficence is, to multiply its gifts as widely as possible. Let us avoid imitating those men who are always fearful of being deceived by those who solicit their pity. In an uncertainty whether or not you ought to extend succor, grant it. It can only expose you to the error that is least subject to repentance.[42]