What is our life given us for? If this inquiry were addressed to each one of our acquaintance, what curious diversities of opinion would be evinced by the replies, differing as they all would according to the various characteristics of each individual. Some would say their lives were given them for enjoyment, and by their actions lead one to believe that they value them exactly in proportion to the amount of pleasure they can obtain. Others, again, seem to think life is a necessary evil, which must be endured with philosophy and resignation; and to these it never appears to occur that there is a higher purpose in life than merely to exist.
A few there are—but these are unhappily very few—who regard life as a precious gift, every moment of which it is their bounden duty to turn to good account. To these last, the waste of life they see around them is perfectly inexplicable, and many are the quiet unobtrusive efforts they make, amongst their own acquaintance, to lead them to take higher and nobler views of the duties of existence. This, however, is a most thankless and generally most useless task. If the wish for superiority is not implanted by nature, it is almost impossible to supply the deficiency by art or argument. Those who are content to spend their lives in idleness and frivolity, can seldom be persuaded to alter their mode of life by the most powerful logic that can be used.
The present age no doubt can boast of greater progress in science and learning than can be claimed by the past generation, and yet it cannot be denied that the wish for mental superiority, and the industry necessary to attain it, is only possessed by the comparatively few, and that far too many persons are content with a kind of dead-level of existence—without ambition or desire to excel in any way. It is nevertheless true, and a fact for which we ought to be thankful, that the means for intellectual cultivation are now more than ever within the reach of all, and are eagerly taken advantage of by vast numbers; that schools of art, music, science, &c. are established in many places, and every encouragement given to study. And yet there are hundreds who voluntarily and systematically neglect every opportunity, and are content to spend their lives in ignorance and uselessness.
It is curious to note the line of demarcation that always seems to exist between those who habitually waste their lives and those who endeavour to redeem the time, and are ambitious of cultivating and improving their talents to the utmost of their opportunities. The former often allude to the latter with a kind of pitying scorn, and declare that 'life would not be worth having, in their opinion, if they had to spend it in that way.'
There is also a numerous class of persons who appear to consider that intellectual pursuits, and a desire to excel in them, ought to be left to those who prefer to spend their time in such (to them) laborious and uninteresting occupations, and that there is no law, human or divine, which requires them to fulfil the duties of existence in any other way than that which is recommended to them by their own frivolous inclinations. Their argument is probably one which they consider unanswerable—namely, that their parents 'got on very well without all those ideas, and why should not they.'
Certainly, if living day after day in one hum-drum round of existence, without one spark of ambition, or one idea elevated above the most ordinary intelligence, can be called 'getting on,' such persons succeed admirably. Surely, however, the promptings of Nature are sufficient to prove that life is given us for some better purpose than to be spent in contented ignorance and mental inactivity, or in a hollow round of gaiety and amusement?
Many times we have been surprised by an observation or a wish from one who, to all outward appearance, was entirely devoted to a life of uselessness and gaiety, without a thought beyond. By that one remark or wish, a gleam of light is thrown upon the inner workings of the mind, and we cannot help regretting that in so many cases these promptings to do something different from their ordinary life—these first symptoms of intellectual life and activity, first sparks of ambition, which would, if carefully fanned, develop into a passion for excellence and utility, should so often be quenched by the fear of the ridicule and discouragement that they will inevitably meet with in the world. Nothing causes so great an isolation from human companionship as a consciousness of mental superiority. The sources of enjoyment and interest to some are weariness and disgust to others whose aims are higher, and whose thoughts are deeper, and who regard life as a gift to be spent in noble labour, and in improving the talents God has given them.
How often do we witness the sad spectacle of a mind deteriorated by indulgence and weakened by excess and frivolity; the saddest kind of waste of all! How often does one see in one's own circle of acquaintance the vigour of the intellect gradually declining under the adverse influences brought to bear upon it? But here the grave question ought to arise in our minds: Have we had anything to do with this deterioration? Has our want of sympathy and encouragement accelerated the fall of the lofty edifice? Could we not by timely advice, encouragement, and perchance by the much-needed assistance, have saved the tottering pillars of the mind from crumbling into dust at our feet? Let us remember that we have two important duties in life that we ought to fulfil: one is, to cultivate the intellect to the utmost extent in our power; and the other, to guide, assist, and encourage any who, less fortunate than ourselves, may be struggling under want of sympathy, want of advantages, and consequent depression. Mental cultivation increases our appreciation of every enjoyment of life. The more educated the mind, the greater our appreciation of higher forms of enjoyment. With what a different eye, for instance, does the botanist look upon the beauties of nature, to the country farmer, who has no idea beyond the probable price of wheat at the coming harvest! How interesting to an entomologist the various forms of insect life, which are regarded with apathy by those who are ignorant of their ways and habits. A cultivated mind renders its owner independent of many of the outward circumstances of life; and if his time is spent in useful and elevating pursuits, its tranquillity will be less disturbed than in the case of those who are dependent upon exterior amusements. An aim in life makes ennui a thing unknown.
It seems scarcely necessary to remark that this part of our argument applies only to those whose circumstances have placed them above the necessity of manual labour. We each have our duties in life to fill according to our different stations; and it would be as wrong and absurd in the tradesman, clerk, or mechanic to insist on spending the whole of his time in intellectual pursuits and scientific studies, as it is for those who perhaps have the greater part of the day at their own disposal, to waste its precious hours in uselessness and idleness. At the same time, it redounds greatly to the credit of those whose avocations allow them but little time for self-culture, that the few leisure moments they have are in numerous cases devoted to useful study.