In my youth, advice to young men was constantly commingled—whatever its general tenor—with admonitions regarding the necessity for industry and perseverance in those who would achieve worldly success. In these utilitarian times, when all seem borne along upon a resistless current, hurrying to the attainment of some practical end, engrossed by schemes of political ambition, or devoted to the acquisition of wealth, a quiet looker-on—as I am wont to regard myself—is tempted to counsel "moderation in all things," contentment with the legitimate results of honorable effort, the cultivation of habits of daily relaxation from the severity of toil, of daily rest from the mental tension that is demanded for successful competition in the arena of life.
The impression that sleep is a sufficient restorative from the wearing effects of otherwise ceaseless labor, or that change of occupation furnishes all the relief that nature requires in this respect, is, undoubtedly, erroneous. "The man," says an eminent student of humanity, "who does not now allow himself two hours for relaxation after dinner, will be compelled to devote more time than that daily to the care of his health, eventually."
To allow one's self to be so engrossed by any pursuit, however laudable in itself, as to reserve no leisure for the claims of Society, of Friendship, of Taste, is so irrational as to need nothing but reflection to render it apparent. In a merely utilitarian view, it is unwise, since, as Æsop has demonstrated, the bow that is never unbent soon ceases to be fit for use; but there is, surely, a higher consideration, addressed to the reason of man. Pope embodies it, in part, in the lines
——"God is paid when man receives,
To enjoy is to obey!"
To have an aim, a purpose in life, sufficiently engrossing to act as an incentive to the exercise of all the powers of being, is essential to
health and happiness. But to pursue any one object to the exclusion of all considerations for self-culture and intellectual enjoyment, is destructive of everything worthy that name.
They who devote all the exertions of youth and manhood to the acquisition of political distinction, or of gold, for instance—cherishing, meanwhile, a sort of Arcadian dream of ultimately enjoying the pleasures of intellectual communion, or the charms of the natural world, when the heat and burden of the conflict of life shall be done—exhibit a most deplorable ignorance of the truth that they will possess in age only the crippled capacities that disuse has almost wholly robbed of vitality, together with such as are prematurely worn out by being habitually overtaxed.
On the contrary, those who believe that
"It is not all of life to live,"
and early establish a true standard of excellence, and acquaint themselves with the immutable laws of our being, will so commingle self-ennobling pursuits and enjoyments with industrious and well-directed attention to the needful demands of practical life, as to secure as much of ever-present happiness as falls to the lot of humanity, together with the enviable retrospection of an exalted ambition, rightly fulfilled. They may also hope for the invaluable possession of intellectual and moral developments to be matured in that state of existence of which this is but the embryo. These are truisms, I admit, my young friends, yet the spirit of the age impels their iteration and re-iteration!