94. The absence of a profession—Leisure.—The first question to be considered is, whether a man should have a profession, or if, having received from his family a sufficient fortune to live without doing anything, he has a right to dispense with all profession and give himself up to what is called leisure. Some schools have condemned leisure absolutely, have denounced what they call idlers as the enemies of society. This is a rather delicate question, and concerning which one must guard against arriving at a too absolute conclusion.
And, in the first place, there cannot be question here of approving or permitting that sort of foolish and shameful leisure to which some young prodigals, without sense of dignity and morality, are given, who dissipate in disorder hereditary fortunes, or the wealth obtained by the indefatigable labor of their fathers. It is sometimes said that this does more good than harm, because fortunes pass thus from hand to hand, and each profits by it in his turn. But who does not know that to make a good use of a fortune is more profitable to society than dissipation? However that may be, nothing is more unworthy of youth than this nameless idleness, where all the strength of the body and soul, the energy of character, the life of the intelligence, all the gifts of nature are squandered. There have been sometimes seen superior souls who rose from such disorders victorious over themselves, and stronger for the combat of life. But how rare such examples! How often does it not, on the contrary, happen that the idleness of his youth determines the whole course of the man’s life?
Sometimes, it is true, one may choose a life of leisure designedly, not with an idea of dissipation, but, on the contrary, with that of being free to do great things. Certain independent minds believe that a profession deprives a person of his liberty, narrows him, fastens him down to mean and monotonous occupations, subjects him to conventional and narrow modes of thinking—in short, that a positive kind of work weakens and lowers the mind. There is some truth in these remarks. Everybody has observed how men of different professions differ in their mode of thinking. What more different than a physician, a man of letters, a soldier, a merchant? All these men thought about the same in their youth; they see each other twenty years later; each has undergone a peculiar bent; each has his particular physiognomy, costume, etc. Not only has the profession absorbed the man, but it has also deadened his individuality. One may conceive, then, how some ambitious minds may expect to escape the yoke and preserve their liberty in renouncing all professions. To be subject to no fixed and prescribed occupation, to depend upon no master, to nobly cultivate the mind in every direction, to make vast experiments, to be a stranger to nothing, bound to nothing, is not that, seemingly, the height of human happiness? Some men of genius have followed this system, and found no bad results from it. Descartes relates to us in his Discours sur la Méthode (Part I.), that, during nine years of his life, he did nothing but “roll about the world, hither and thither, trying to be a spectator, rather than an actor, in the comedies played therein.” He tells us further, that he employed his “youth in traveling, in visiting courts and armies, in associating with people of various humors and conditions, in gathering divers experiences, in testing himself in the encounters chance favored him with, etc.” That this may be an admirable school, a marvelously instructive arena for well-endowed minds, no one will doubt; but what is possible and useful to a Descartes or a Pascal, will it suit the majority of men? Is it not to be feared that this wandering in every direction, this habit of having nowhere a foot-hold, may make the mind superficial and weaken its energy?
He who renounces being an actor, to be only a spectator, as did Descartes, takes too easy a part; he frees himself from all responsibility: this may sharpen the mind, but there will always remain some radical deficiency. Force of character, however, and personal superiority may set at naught all these conclusions—sound as they in general are in theory.[64]
It may, therefore, be doubtful whether a life of leisure, with some exceptions, be good for him who gives himself up to it; but what is not legitimate, is the kind of jealousy and envy which those who work often entertain against those who have nothing to do. There is a legitimate leisure and nobly employed. For example, a legitimate leisure is that which, obtained through hereditary fortune, is engaged in gratuitously serving the country, in study, in the management of property, the cultivation of land, in travels devoted to observation and the amelioration of human things, in a noble intercourse with society. It is a grievous error to wish to blot out of societies all existence that has not gain for its end, and is not connected with daily wants. Property and riches are true social functions, and among the most difficult of functions. Those who know how to use them with profit, fill one of the most useful parts in society, and cannot be said to be without a profession.
95. Of the choice of a profession.—If it is necessary in society to have a profession, it is important that it be well chosen. He who is not in his right place, is wanting in some essential quality to fill the one he occupies:
“If the abbé de Carignan had yielded to the wishes of Madame de Soissons, his mother, what glory would not the house of Savoy have been deprived of! The empire would have been deprived of one of its greatest captains, one of the bulwarks of Christianity. Prince Eugene was a very great man in the profession they wished to interdict him; what would he have been in the profession they wished him to embrace? M. de Retz insisted absolutely that his youngest son should be an ecclesiastic, despite the repugnance he manifested for this profession, despite the scandalous conduct he indulged in to escape from it. This duke [M. de Retz] gives to the church a sacrilegious priest, to Paris a sanguinary archbishop, to the kingdom a great rebel, and deprives his house of the last prop that could have sustained it.”[65]
One should, therefore, study his vocation, not decide too quickly, get information on the nature and duties of different professions; then consult his taste, but without allowing himself to be carried away by illusory, proud, inconsistent fancies; consult wise and enlightened persons; finally, if necessary, make certain experiments, taking care, however, to stop in time.
96. Division of social professions.—It would be impossible to make a survey of all the professions society is composed of: it were an infinite labor. We must, therefore, bring the professions down to a certain number of types or classes, which allow the reducing of the rules of professional morality to a small number. Several philosophers have busied themselves in dividing and classifying social occupations. We shall recall only the principal ones of these divisions.
Plato has reduced the different social functions to four classes, namely: 1, magistrates; 2, warriors; 3, farmers; 4, artisans. The two first classes are the governing classes; the two others are the classes governed. The two first apply themselves to moral things: education, science, the defense of the country; the others to material life. This classification of Plato is somewhat too general for our modern societies, which comprise more varied and numerous elements: these divisions, nevertheless, are important, and should be taken account of in morals.