474 TRUE NOBILITY OF MAN. "An honest man's the noblest work of God." THE dignity of man's nature has been ascribed to the joint advantages of bodily superiority and intellectual greatness. But the former he shares pretty equally with some brutes; in the latter he is exceeded by lost spirits, and neither the one or the other comprises his true native nobility. That human beings alone of animals walk erect, have a certain peculiar conformation and movement of limb, is of itself a trifling circumstance. It adds little dignity to their character, and only as the outward symbol of a high toned, upright spirit deserves the admiration of the wise. If the mind be vicious, with low desires and abject feelings, the human form becomes the vilest imposition which the world, this various and complex work of nature, exhibits. When Milton represents the great deceiver on his return from that malignant excursion to our globe, "scorned by the dismal universal hiss" of his snaky associates, we remark with peculiar pleasure the fitness of their metamorphosis. The mind feels no repugnance at seeing celestial nature and archangelic intellect, having once assumed the serpent's character, afterwards clothed in his own proper form. Reason, the brilliancy of wit, the glow of sensibility, though much, are not all, nor the chiefest part in that exaltation of which our nature is capable. Reason, that lofty faculty of which we love to boast as associating our nature with the divine! Were she followed and cherished with an equal enthusiasm, such claim might have a weight which he who looks only at the common practice of man is unwilling to acknowledge. But where she should rule, she slumbers an impotent mistress, while passion and prejudice usurp her throne and give law in her name. Her just authority is subverted; her free decisions are warped to give speciousness to absurdity, and color to falsehood. Wit is but an uncertain light, which dazzles by its brilliancy, but blinds the eye to every other object. Sensibility, through which man should taste an innocent delight in whatever is beautiful in scenery, noble in sentiment or elevated in character, often gives a keener relish to debasing pleasures, or a sharper efficacy to the stings of remorse. These, then, are not the real dignity of man. Alone, they only form a superior kind of brute, and become illustrious only when subservient to a higher faculty of his being. The moral nature of man as the basis of his own happiness, and the ground of that connection which exists between him and his God, is the crowning excellence of his character. Infinite goodness sent forth the human soul, weakly guarded by reason, tossed by passions, a child of frailty and prone to wander; but endowed it with a moral nature which binds it to his own glorious nature, and affiliates it to the spirits of the blessed. When borne on in the race of guilty pleasure, a voice whispers in the ear of man, chides his devious course and tells him of a glorious destiny. To know the extent of our moral relations, to adorn the character with the beauty of excellence, and develope our moral susceptibility, is the business of life, and the proper object for the employment of all our talents. We should become wise in order to become good. Especially, be it never forgotten, that he who has attained a just conception of his moral relations alone, has proceeded farther in the way of wisdom, than he who has mastered all the stores of human learning without it. If we mistake the ultimate design of being, it matters little how wise we show ourself in other things; we have missed the point of destination, and our whole course is necessarily wrong. Placing the nobility of man upon such high ground, the way of attaining true excellence becomes peculiarly important. And first, we say, let him who desires this excellence, impress upon his mind and ponder in his thought the importance of an immortal nature. Let him remember that this is "the infancy of being." Let his steady eye often turn from these scenes which so distort our mental vision, to contemplate the enfranchised spirit as it "pursues its rising track" from ignorance to the full perfection of knowledge. Let him remember, let him feel, that this weak nature contains the elements of perfection; that this feeble spirit, which now gropes in error, confounded and amazed at the least of creation's wonders, has a glorious period in prospect, when it shall comprehend a universe, and fathom the depths of the divine purposes. By such reflections he may learn to set a just estimate upon things, to counteract that fatal thirst for present pleasure, to associate life with immortality. He for whom fortune has in reserve a crown, however low his present state, must blush to act inconsistently with his future character, must learn to anticipate his regal dignity. The contemplation of immortality, while it is too serious to excite vanity, still should awake in every breast sentiments of the most perfect freedom. When man clearly comprehends how fearful and wonderful is his destiny, he feels his interests too important to be trifled with; and the rights of his fellow man are too momentous for the thought of infringement. When the enraged tyrant looks down upon the pale, cringing wretch at his feet, let the recollection of his immortal privilege burst upon him, and let him fear to wound a nature enduring as his own, and which must move on, a kindred spirit, by his side, in infinite progression. "wo for those who trample o'er a mind! A deathless thing! They know not what they do, To lay rude hands upon God's mysteries there!" The poor crawler who meanly hopes for annihilation in the shock of death, may kiss the rod of despotism; may acknowledge the privilege of royal dust to trample over his prostrate rights; he may offer up the tribute of obeisance to wealth, and bow in humble reverence before a gilded pageant: the free spirit that feels within the glow of immortality, that accustoms itself to look forward to that future state of equality, knows no such servile feeling. To one who sees nothing but oblivion beyond the grave, a most oppressive inequality appears in the distribution of the pleasures of existence. Rank, genius, and wealth confer enjoyments which persons in humble life may long for, but must never partake. The unfortunate wretch bitterly feels his degradation, marks with malignant envy the happier lot of others, but knows nothing in his own nature upon which to base an independent sentiment, nor any future bliss upon which to sustain his sinking spirit by the power of hope. Death which alone can equalize the high and the low, consigns both to oblivion. But revelation lifts the beggar upon a level with the prince, by ushering them as kindred spirits upon a new scene of action. What can be added to him who possesses a deathless spirit, or what can make him poor? We again say, let him who would study to attain the chief excellence of his nature, ever be sensible of his destiny. He who keeps the end of his journey always in view, is less likely to loiter and deviate, than he who never thinks of it. Next to moral sensibility, and in subservience to it, the dignity of our nature requires culture of the intellect. The ingenious observer will need but a cursory survey of the various conflicting opinions which agitate society, to learn that he must think for himself. He cannot take upon trust, without manifest guilt, the great principles which are to regulate his conduct, from any authority on earth. These are too important to be risked upon the caprice of others; besides, the Creator in this beautiful disposition of things, did not give us these noble powers, capable of such improvement, to lie inactive. The constitution of our being precludes the idea; immortal natures must be progressive. All things around, within us, are the proper objects of thought, and we find ourselves existing amid a thousand natural and moral phenomena, to exercise our powers and provoke investigation. Let us then freely examine whatever comes within our reach. Let nothing appear so sacred as to repress our curiosity, or so venerable as to awe us into acquiescence. Above all, let us beware lest the strong holds of custom and prejudice screen falsehood from discovery, and lest folly lurk undetected under the mantle of antiquity. When we shall have examined all the themes of thought, besides that our faculties will have acquired strength by exercise, and the mind stored itself with pleasing images and useful reflections, we shall have also this satisfaction, that if we have fallen short of the truth, we have not at least been duped by others, but have failed through the weakness of our natures. If we employ the faculties which Heaven has given us, we shall have its blessing upon our honest endeavors after the truth; and if we carry on the pursuit with candor, our own powers will be found sufficient to direct us in whatever is most necessary to our welfare. Truth, as she does not often force her instructions upon us unsought, so neither always confines her presence to the summit of the hill of science, far less within those limits which the pride of philosophers has drawn about her, but sometimes breaks through all these barriers and pours a flood of light into the mind of her humble votary. Above all, having found the truth, let us not be scared out of it by the difficulties to which it leads, or by the terrors of public opinion. To overcome this last obstruction will be easy or difficult, according to the temper of our minds and the character of motives. If we are ruled by vanity, or a fondness for popular applause, the opposition of public opinion will present an insuperable obstacle to all progress in the pursuit of truth. To such an one, the denouncing voice of the multitude is an Alpine barrier to shut him from the path of duty. We mark his motives, and know him to be destitute alike of true dignity of character and common independence. The public, like a beast of burden, has been alternately cajoled and bruised, flattered and fleeced, by its pretended friends and favorites. Let us do neither. Let us neither flatter "its rank breath," nor fear its dread denunciation. The selfish followers of fame and ambition have often braved its opinion, and are the soldiers of truth to be less courageous? At least we know that the universe does not exhibit a nobler spectacle than a lover of truth holding out his deliberate course, in despite of the ignominy heaped upon him by a base world. Such an example furnishes the proudest illustration of man's true nobility. In order to give reason its full force and preserve the judgment unclouded, the passions must be reduced to that subordinate rank which is properly assigned them in the economy of mind. We cannot indeed lift ourselves entirely beyond their atmosphere, but we can acquire such an ascendency over them, as shall greatly diminish their influence and increase the sum of our happiness. To hold these in proper subjection is real greatness of soul. He who has learned to do this, has achieved that greatest of all conquests, over himself. If this work be commenced in season, it will be comparatively easy: the passions when properly resisted know their place; the reign of reason is confirmed, and her voice is heard above these clamorous and imperious disturbers of our peace. But if we suffer ourselves early to be ruled by them, we must obey them through life; we have been broken to their rein and shall be driven wherever they see fit to direct us. A slavery which we have contracted in youth holds us in its grasp even to our graves. It is not possible to picture a more humiliating condition than his who has yielded to some debasing passion, who feels his chains, yet has not strength to resist. True excellence of character allows no such derangement of faculties; the intellect must rule the ascendant. In connection with this part of our subject, we shall say a few words upon self-denial, an exercise which christianity recommends with much force, and which like all her precepts is confirmed by the principles of true philosophy. We are not going to speak of moderation in sensual pleausures; the necessity of this is too manifest to need remark. Excessive indulgence in these if it does not stupify the mind, inflames the passions, which is full as fatal to all cool reasoning and calm enjoyment. The pleasures of a rational being, should be of an intellectual character. To refrain from conduct which corrupts the mind and debilitates the body is but the dictate of common prudence. We speak rather of those nobler sacrifices of benevolence and philanthropy to the good of our race, which react with double effect upon our own hearts, and which are not less the cause than the natural result of true magnanimity. Extended views of things together with a just appreciation of human interests, always produce acts of kindness whenever and wherever proper objects are presented. A truly great and noble character, while too sensible of his own importance ever entirely to sacrifice his interests, will still always think the better of himself for any aid he has been able to lend his fellow. Such a man will find opportunities for assisting those around him by acts of benevolence, which while they call for self-denial and develope the graces of his own character, will never seriously impoverish him. He will often taste the "luxury of doing good." The dignity of our nature, as we have already hinted, requires action. The peculiar advantages of that progressive constitution which we possess are lost whenever we suffer ourselves to pause. Our course must be continually onward. If we halt, the delicate machinery of the mind loses its pliancy, and we find it difficult to start. Besides, we have no time to spare. The splendid exhibitions of nature around us, the more wonderful phenomena of mind within us, all conspire to shame our ignorance and censure |