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.1 
 
 I 
 
I 
 
SOLITUDE 
 
 "CONSIDERED WITH 
 
 RESPECT TO ITS INFLUENCE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 MIND AND THE HEART. 
 
 "Written oiiginaiiy in Germati, 
 
 By m. Zimmerman, 
 
 Aulic Counfellcr and Phyfician to his Britsnnic Majefty it Fatjavtr, 
 
 Tranllated fiom the French of J. B. MERCIER, 
 
 TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, 
 
 THE LIFE OF ZIMMERMAN. 
 
 Sol IT UP E ou je trouve une douceur feci etc 
 
 Lieux que j'aimai toujours, ne pourrai-je jamais, 
 
 Loin dumunde et du bruit, gouterrombre et Je fral$ ? 
 
 Oh ! qui m'anetera fous vos fomlMCS afyles ? 
 
 'Quand pourront les Neuf Sceurs, loin des cours et des vilies, 
 
 W occuper tout entier 
 
 La Fokta)>e, 
 Le Son^e d'uti Habitant du Mogol, L. XI. Fable IF, 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR JOSEPH BUMSTEABy 
 (Printer and Boi-kfelier) 
 
 Sold by him at No. 20, Union-Street — and by 
 
 Bookfellers in various parts of the United Stat«s. 
 1804. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 French I'ranjlator. 
 
 ^IL HE title of this work will perhaps give? 
 fome alarm to delicate ears : the word Solitude'' 
 may infpire melancholy and unfavorable ideas \ it is- 
 however only neceilary to read a few pages to be 
 undeceived. The author is not one of thofe extrav- 
 agant MtfantJiropcs who would compel mankind, born 
 for fociety, and connected with it by a variety of 
 indilToluble ties, to retire into forefts, to inhabit dens 
 and caves, and to live only with wild beafts \ he is 
 R friend to humanity, a fenfible and virtuous indi- 
 vidual, an honefh citizen, honored by the efteem of 
 his Prince, who endeavors to enlighten the mines 
 of his fellow- creatures upon a lubjecl the mcll in- 
 terel'ting to them — the attainnient of Hafpine/s,- 
 
 No writer ever appeared m.ore completely fat^ 
 hfied that man is born for focitty, or leems to hr.ve 
 better ftudied all the focial duties of life, than M. 
 7Ammerman. But what is focicty ? What are the 
 focial duties of life ? Thefe are the queftions which 
 the author examines. The important chara£rers of 
 Father, Hufband, Son, and Citizen, im.pofc: on Man 
 certain indifpenfable obligations which are ever dear 
 to the virtuous heart ; they eftabhfh between him, 
 his country, and his family, relaticns too neceffr.ry 
 and too agreeable to be neglected. It is not, how- 
 
iV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ever, m tuiriultaous joys, in the noify pleafures of 
 public entertainments, in biindly following the chi- 
 meras of ambition, the illuficns of felf-Iove, or the 
 fpeculations of cieilrej that men muft expert to feel 
 the charms of thofe rt:ciproc:iJ ties which unite them 
 to fociety , to perceive the dignity of thofe duties 
 which nature made productive of fo many pleafures ; 
 io tafte that true felicity which is accompanied by 
 independence and content a felicity fa feldom defir- 
 cd only becaufe it is fo little known, but which every 
 man may cultivate within his own brealt. 
 
 Ab-S, who has not frequently experienced the 
 aieceflity of entering into that facred afylum as a ref- 
 uge from the misfortunes of Ufe,.or as a relief from 
 •the fatigues of fatiattd pleafures ? Yes, all men, 
 from the fordid fchemer who daily finks under the 
 -weight of his labors, to the proud ftatefman intoxi- 
 cated by the incenfe of popular applaufe, experience 
 the defire of terminating their precarious career ; 
 cvtry bofom feels an anxiety for repofe ; every mind 
 fondly wiflies to fteal from the vortex, of a bufy and 
 unquiet life, to enjoy tranquillity in the foHtude of 
 •retirement. Under the peaceful fhades of Solitude, 
 the mind of man regenerates, and his facuUies ac- 
 quire new force •, it is there alone that the happy 
 can enjoy the fullnefs of felicity, or the miferable 
 forget his woe ; it is there that the bofom of fenfibil- 
 ity experiences its moft delicious emotions ; that cre- 
 ative genius frees itfelf from the (hackles of fociety, 
 and darts forth the warmeft rays of imagination ; 
 all the ideas of our minds, every inclination of our 
 hearts, lean toward this defired goal. There is 
 indeed," (fays a fenfible Englifliman) " fcarcely any 
 writer who has not celebrated the happlnefs of rural 
 privacy, and delighted himfelf and his readers with 
 the melody of birds, the whifper of groves, and the 
 murmur of rivulets ; nor any man eminent for ex- 
 tent of capacity, or greatnefs of exploits, that has, 
 not left behind him fome memorials of lonely wif- 
 dom and filent dignity." 
 
 The part of the work to which I am mofi; attacji- 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 V 
 
 t'[ Is particulany addreiTcd to the attention of 2'cut/i ; 
 il is to them that it will perfiaps be melt ivftful, and 
 I fondly flatter myfelf that to their minds it wiil alfo 
 afrord the highell pleafure. Young mytelf and fen- 
 iible of the truly beautiful, 1 \{ch myfelf led on by 
 the charms of a work which elevated my mind, 
 warmed my imagination, and touched my heart. 
 May it produce the fame effects upon my young 
 countrymen ! May it, notwithilanding the weaknefs 
 of this franllation, infpire them with the fame en- 
 thufiafm ! At leaft I may ventCire to exclaim in the 
 words of M. Ztrnmermarty *' Dear and virtuous rcung 
 man, into whofe hands thi:s book perchance may fall, 
 receive vi'ith atFe£lion the good which it contains, 
 and reject all that is cold and bad ; all that does not 
 touch and penetrate the heart ; but if you thank me 
 for the performance, if you blefs me, if you acknow- 
 leclge that I have enlighte led your mind, cortedted 
 your manners, and tranquilized your heart, I fliall 
 congratulate myfelf on the finceriry of my intention?^ 
 "and think my labors richly rewarded. If, in pur- 
 fuing it, you find yourfelf able to juilify your incli- 
 nation for a wife and active Solitude, your averfjon 
 from thofe focieties which only ferve to deftroy time, 
 and your repugnance to employ vile a-nd fhamefui 
 means in' the acquifition of riches, I (hall aik no 
 other benediction for my work." 
 
 It will perhaps appear furprifing that, enter- 
 taining fo high a veneration for the writings of 3f» 
 Zimmerman^ 1 could permit myfelf with profane 
 hand to retrench the greater part of his work \ permit 
 me therefore to difclofe the reafons wl^icli inficien- 
 ced my conduct. Four large volumes on the fub- 
 je£tof Solitude, appeared to m.e to.be a work too 
 arduous for the generality of French readers, and 
 particularly for French bookfellers to undertake; 
 for even this fhort Effay, without the recommenda- 
 tion of ilf. Z. To«r»f«r, could not have acquired the 
 hontr cfthePrefs, BeCde, though the whole v/orlc 
 bears the marks of geniiis, and the two firft volumes 
 which principally treat of monpjUc Solitude^ contain 
 
Vi 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 without doubt many judicious reflefbions, yet they 
 are perhaps rathei too long for tn.-iny rcad'^rs, and 
 are even capable of diipl^^afin^ fome, \vho?'e narrow 
 prejudices uignt be fliocked by tV- iiucrai fentii7ients 
 of the author, who has appealed to r. decifion of 
 T^^ufon aioiie upon the lubjecl of ccrtniri abuies ren- 
 dcreu facred by the motives from whicii tiiey pro- 
 c^tdi-cl. N-ctwlthfla^idlng this, however, 1 could 
 not dcti-vmine to retrench the work before I had 
 CO fulie-i feyeral men of letters, of enlightened un- 
 deritaadtngs, and in iiigh favor with the Public : 
 No, I never would have ventured, on my own judg- 
 ment, to have pruned any part of a work which has 
 acquired the univerlal approbation of the German 
 Empire, * and obtained the fufRages of an Emprefs 
 celebrated for the fuperior brilliancy of her mind, 
 and who has fgnified her approbation in the moit 
 
 flattering manner On the 26th January, 1785, a 
 
 Courier, difpatched by the Ruffian Envoy at Ham- 
 burg, prefented M. Zimmerman with a fmall cafket in 
 the name of her Majefty the Emprefs of Ruffia. 
 The caficet contained a Ring enriched with dia- 
 monds of an extraordinary Cze and luftre, and a 
 gold medal, bearing on one fide the portrait of the 
 Kmprefs, and on the other the date of the happy ref- 
 ormation of the Ruffian Empire. This prcfent the 
 Emprefs accompanied with a letter written in her 
 town hand, containing thefe remarkable words : 
 " To M. Zmmtrmany Counfellor of State, and Phy- 
 fician to his Britannic Majefty, to thank him for the 
 excellent precepts he has given to mankind in his 
 Treatife upon Solitude." 
 
 * The author is already infcrted ia- the coUeftion of Clafisc 
 Authors printed at Carlfrifhe^ 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF ZIMMERMAN. 
 
 JomN^ GEORGE ZIMMERMAN, the 
 Author of the f olbwing Trcatif^^ on Solitudg, which 
 v/e nowprefent (o the public, was born on the 8th 
 day of December, 1 728. at Brugg, afmalltown fit- 
 uatedcn the borders of the river Aar, near thecaf- 
 tles of Windich and Aitemberg, in the Canton of 
 Berne, about fevenieen miles to the northweft of 
 the city ©f Zurich, in Swifferland. 
 
 His lather, Jshn Zimmennan^ whofe anceftcrs 
 had, for a feries of years, defervedly obtair>ed the 
 applaufe and admiration of their fellow- citizens, 
 by their p:^rronal merits, and patriodc exertions 
 for the intercfts of the Republic, was eminendy 
 diftinguifhed as an able and eloquent member of 
 the provincial council. Kis mother who was 
 equally refpefted and beloved for her gcod fenfe, 
 eafy manners, and mod^ft virtues, v/as the daugh- 
 ter of the celebrated Pjc/;?, v\^horefided at a beau- 
 tiful villa near Merges, in the fame canton, and 
 whofe extraordinary learni :g aad great abilities 
 had contributed to advance him to a feat ia the 
 parUament of Paris. 
 
 The father of Zimmerman, anxious for the 
 future eminence of his fon as a fchclar, undertook 
 the arduous f-afk of f uperintending his education, 
 and, by the aiiiftaGce of the ableft preceptors tha,t 
 
Viii Life of Zinmerman, 
 
 Gould p^.'ocureJ, inftrucled him \\ t^:e rudi- 
 n1en^s of all th^ ufefal ?.vA oriaameatiil fciences 
 iintU h'3 ha.i a'.tidiied the ^>ge of iburtsen year?, 
 vhen he (Vnt h'un to the LbivcrfKy of Berne, 
 wliere, under K}r Merger^ the hiitor'an and pro- 
 feir;r of rhetoric, and Jhvian^ the celebrated 
 Greek prcfclT^r, he ]m:!i?d, for three years, Ph> 
 l^l-^gy i^id rhe I->e(les Lettres, wirh unremifti. g 
 rdlkiaity and a!tenti:)n. Scarcrly, however, had 
 he entf red on his conrfe of iludy, when h's indiii- 
 try w:^.s ^ fv-r a v/ ile in! errup*:ed by the fad Jen 
 de:it 1 of his afFzctiinite father ; a misForrune 
 which bereaved him of his ablell inftru(5lor, 
 and tore his heart with the fever.^ft rdHi<5lioa ; 
 but as time foftened his filial forrows, he renew- 
 ed his fcudies with iinceafmg dif gence and ?.rdor. 
 
 The various and frcqu:ntly complicated fyf- 
 teiis of pdioibphy, whi'^h have been from time 
 to time introduced into the worl I, excited his cu- 
 riofity an t ftimulated his indnflry ; and, to ren- 
 der iiimfjlf a perfect m;ift;r of this extenfiv^ 
 branch of lear.nng, he pLiced himfclf under, the 
 tu'tion of Brunncr^ one of the mofl; zealous difci- 
 ples of the Baron tie Wolf ; but the profeilor, un- 
 fortunately, was only ikilled in the mecaphyficiil 
 doftrm ;s of his great mafc^T ; and, inftead of 
 leading the mind of .^.is pupil into tha broad and 
 fi3w\ry paths of real ethics, he bewildereJ him 
 in tlie d irk and thorny mazeiJ of vain and ufelefs 
 L-arning, umfil M, Tribolet and J. Stapfer^ two 
 miniilers of the g fpel, equally renowned for ex- 
 alted piety, ar.lent geniu?, and extenCva knowl- 
 edge, happily extricated him from this dangerous 
 labyrinth, an J taught him, as he frequently after- 
 wards acknowle-i'ged with the v/armeft gratitude, 
 tiie frund doclrines of true ^philofophy. Having 
 pa (Ted nearly live years at the univerfity, he, bs- 
 gan to tiiink of applying the ftores of information 
 iie had acquired to thepurpofes of a^lve life 5 and 
 
Liftf of Zmmeman, vx. 
 
 with a viev/ of confuldng his mother refpe^ling 
 the profeilion he fhouVd choofe, he vTited, to- 
 wards the end of the year 1 746, his Maternal re- 
 la:i( r» at Merges, where (he then re fided : But, 
 ali^s ! the kiad afliftince which he fon Jly hoped to 
 derive upon this imp-rtant fiihjccl, from ^ her judg- 
 ment and cpinion, death had rrndered it impolii- 
 bh f;.r him to obtain. Diltreffing, however, as 
 tl^is u::expected event was at fuch a jmKTcare, it 
 afforded him the advantage of fcHowing more 
 freely his own uabiaHed inclination y a circum- 
 ftAnce whieh is generally conceived to contribute 
 to foccels ; and, after mendDning the fubjecl cur- 
 forily to a f:-v/ re;atior.s, he ijnmediately relolved 
 to rcHov/ t e practi ce or phyii'c. The extra: rdi- 
 Lary fame '-f H-J^r, who kid recently been prc- 
 niottd by Kinr{ George the Second to a profeiibf- 
 ihip in the Univrrfiiy of Go-tingen, refounded at 
 this tiT.e thronghcut Eur .p= : and Zmpnerman c.^^ 
 termined to profecute his fiiidies in phyfic under 
 the au(pir.es of this great and celebrated m -fter. 
 He was admitted into the Univcrlity on ti^e 12th 
 of September, 17475 and obtained his degree oa 
 the 14th of Auguft, 1 75 1. The promifirig geni- 
 us of the young pupil induced the profefllr to re- 
 ceive him with every tokej of efteera. Ke or- 
 dered an apartment to be provided fl^r him under 
 his own Yo^f ; allifted him by his aovice ; luper- 
 intended his f^ludies, and behaved to him through- 
 out his furure life as a parent, a preceptor, a pat- 
 ron, and a friend. ZipMy Calidni, andftveral ether 
 eminent men, were at this tiii^e liudyi-g under 
 HaUtT, 1 he ex j.mpb cf the teacher infpired his. 
 pupils with, the fpirit of indr{lri.,:us exeriion ; and 
 by their indefitigable induf^ry, and mutual en- 
 deavors to profecute -md pe^ieLt his diicoveries, 
 they riot only forwarded the progrefs of medical 
 fcience, but placed the philoibphy of the huoiaa 
 body oa a more fure and ua almofl: entirely Eew 
 
bafis. The j:^enius of Zlmmmnan^ however, ws^ 
 too powerful and expanfive to be confined exclu- 
 fively to ^the ftudy of medicice : the fr?.me and 
 temper of the hirnaa mind, natur^d plvd /ophy^ and 
 par iculirly mathematics, engaged a confiderable 
 portion of his attention, and, by the aflifliance of 
 AI. S?2ner^ rewarded liis toils with a large fund 
 cf valuable information. Politics alfo, both as 
 they relate to t^e ir.unicipal g . verninent of na- 
 ti ms, and -^s' they pnibrace 'thr't more iinportant 
 fubjecl which has cf i?^re years been ib well known 
 in Eurvop^ under the denomination /?^2//^/cj-, did 
 not efcape his inveftigation. To relax iiis mind' 
 from thcfe feverer itudie?, he cultivated a cjiiu. 
 piste knowledge of the Engilfh lunguage, and be- 
 came fo g-eat A prriT ie:it in the p:Iite and elegant 
 literature of this '^-^ 11 irv, th.it the Briiiih Pccts,par- 
 ticuarly ^hakcfpeaf w, I'o^e.-ryidi Th?.?i//:jii were as famd- 
 I'.ir 10 h"m as his favorite authors Horner and Virgil, 
 Every moirerit, in fh^rt, cf thi four year.^ he p ff- 
 ed at Got!! ^.a:;^!, was deployed in the uleful and 
 ornamental i:npr^.vem?nt f^of his c.ipacious mind, 
 which appears to have been fUmulated by alecr^t pra- 
 fage of his future gr-auiefs : il r, in a letter v;rit- 
 tea during this period, to his iriend Dr. Tijfot^ of 
 Bine, he fays, " I paf:. every hour of my Ife 
 here like a man who is detir mined not to be icr- 
 g^oi by pofc rity ^; and ev:-n fo early rs the 
 year 1 75 ^ he produced a work in which he dif- 
 covered the dav/nings cf that ex'raoidieary geni- 
 us which afterwards iprcad abroad witn ij mu.:h 
 ellulgence.* But the arior cf his mind impeied 
 upon his corporeal frame a taO-: teo labrri uis to 
 be continually ildbined ; ai:d at Inig'h his un- 
 ceafmg a/Ti iuiri'^s, and cl .fe apoli:adcn, affeded 
 hl^ health, and pr educed many dl.irm.ing iym.p'oms 
 cf tl:at grievous m-.la iy the h-po^ondria. 
 
Vlfc cf Zhmiem.oiu xl 
 
 For knowledge is as food, an^J needs no len 
 Her temperance over aoDetite to knov/ 
 Inmeat'ure what the mind may well contain ; 
 OpprelVes e!fe with lurfoit, and loon turns 
 Wifdom to folly, as noiiifhment to wind." 
 
 To divert his min-ii, and ciffipate the banefu 
 efiecis of this diforder, he quitted the Univerfity. 
 and travelled for a few months thr.:;ugh Hcliand^ 
 where he formed an acqnaiiitance v/ith tlie cele- 
 brated G.tubiiis ; and afterwarJs vUited Pai-is, 
 where his great abilities, zs, a fcholar and a phy- 
 Ccian, foon rendered him a confpicuous charader. 
 The amufements of Pari?, hovA^:-ver, and perhaps 
 the envy which his fup.^ricr merits raifed againit 
 him in the minds of certain profeiTional competi- 
 tors, m.ade his refidence in this vid?ted and tu- 
 multuous metropDlis irkfome ar.d difagreeable to 
 him ; and towards the clcfe - of the year 17:2 he 
 returned to Berne, where he enjoyed the dfoulle 
 fatisfa£lion of acquiring a confitier^hie degree of 
 praclice, and of being received by all his former 
 friends with open arms and unfeigned coriiaiity. 
 During the early part of his refidence at Berne, he 
 puhlifhed many excellent ellays on various iub- 
 je61:s in the Helvetic Journal ; particularly a w:rk 
 on the talents and eru^lition of Haller, This 
 grate ful tribute to the juft merits of his friend and 
 benefactor, he afterwards enlarged into a com- 
 plete hiflory of his life and writings, as a fcholar, 
 a philcfopher, a phyfician, and a man* It was 
 pubiifhed in 1755, at Zurich, in one large volume 
 o6lavo, and received, as in the opinion of Tijfof it 
 highly deferved, with uncommon teHimonies of 
 applaufe. 
 
 The health of Halkr, which had fufFered 
 greatly by the feverity of ftudy, feemed to decline 
 in prbporrion as his fame increafed ; and, obtain- 
 ing pertniiru;a to leave Gottiogen, he repaired to 
 B--' rae, t vifit hisfriends,andto try,by the advice and 
 alliitduce of ZimnKman^ to reftore, it pollibie, his 
 
xii Life of Zimmerman* 
 
 decayed conRituticn. The benefits'" he experien- 
 ced in a fhort time were lb great, that he' deter- 
 mined to rtlinquiih his profeiTorfhip, and to pafs 
 the remainder of his days amidft the carelTes of his 
 fiiends, and the comforts of his family, in this ci- 
 ty He accordingly requeued Zimmerman to fettle 
 h's atlairs i\t ihe llniverfity, and to accompany 
 Lladaiue Holler and her hoii!'ebold to the new a- 
 bode which had been previoufiv provided at Berne 
 for their rccepri on. 'I his einD?iry he performed 
 w'th a plc'ifure flov/ing not only from the happ:- 
 nefs \it ;inticip^ted from the company and con- 
 verfation of this agreeable and ?friendly family, 
 bnt from a cauf^ whicli was perhaps ftill m^re inter- 
 efting to his heart. In the family of Haller lived a 
 3^oung lady, nearly related to him, whofe maiden 
 iiame v^'isMeLy^ aod whofe hufoand, M, Siek^ had 
 been f .metime dead. This lady, befides a (bund 
 and bi rhly cultivated underfranding, a rc-fin.ed tafte, 
 a quick and lively fancy, and a very briliiiVnt ima- 
 gination^ pciTciied, v/ha.t is p--7rhaps fuperior even 
 to thefe endowments, thofe polite and elegant 
 manners, trat amhbie miidaefs and ferenity of 
 temper, snd that winning fr^ftnefs of voice, which 
 tender ihefex lb irreiifial ly charmini^, and i^ifiire 
 the hap'piaefs of z hulb?nd« Zimmerman^ whofe 
 devotion to ftu-Jy had not exdnguifhed the tender 
 fenfibilities of his heicrt, becauie deeply enamor- 
 ed of her charms. Be offered her ins hand in 
 marriage ; and, after palling fome time in the 
 gentle affiduities of h ve, they were united at the 
 altar in the bands of mutual aiTedion. During 
 the fhort time heaven permit; ed hereto bl efs his 
 arms, he experienced in her foi:dnf;fs a foft ref- 
 uge from worldly cares, and a fecure afyium for 
 his afflictions. 
 
 Soon after his union with this amiable woman, 
 the fituation of Phyfician to the town of Brugg 
 became vacant, which he was invited by the 
 
Life cf Zimnurman, xili 
 
 habitants to fill. The regular falary annexed to this 
 appoiii:meat was extremely fmall, confidering the 
 extent and population of the town ; but there is 
 fomeihing particularly fafcinaling to a fentimental 
 mind in the place of early infancy ; and when 
 Zimmerman confidered the number of relations and 
 friends by whom he would be furr.. unded, he re- 
 licquifhed all the pleafures and advantages he en- 
 joyed at Berne, and returned to the place cf his 
 nativity, wiih a view to fettle himfelf there for 
 life. The pra<^ice which he immediacely acquir- 
 ed throughout ihe town and furrounding country 
 wsis, like that of his friend Dr. Hotze^ of Richter- 
 fwyl, of whofe amiable character and delightful 
 fitu?.tion ha has drawn fo pleafing a pidure in the 
 following Ellay, mere extenlive than profitable. 
 His time, however, was iiot fo entirely engrofled 
 by the duties of his profelTion as to prevent hiin 
 from indulging his mind, always eager to acquire 
 new information, in the purfuits of literature ; 
 and hi read alinoft everv work of reputed merit, 
 whether of P::yfic, Moral Philofcphy, Belles 
 I.ettres, Hiftcry, Voyages, or even novels and 
 Romances, which the various prelTes of Europe 
 from time to time produced. Tiie novels and ro- 
 mances of Enghnd, in particular, afforded him 
 ^reat dehght. The thoughts and opicions which 
 occurred to him during this ccurfe of reading, he 
 frequenth^ committed to writing in the form cf 
 effays, and inferted many of them in a periodical 
 paper called the Monitcr, which was then publifh- 
 ed by the Philological Society at Zurich. 
 
 in the conrfe of time, Zinmierman added to 
 the character of /;;//?w;2./ the pleafr^g rdation of fa-^ 
 /^^r, and enjoyed i a the birth of a fon, and afer- 
 w^ards of ? daughter, all that could fill the bolcm 
 of the fondeit parent with joy— health, ccmp ten- 
 cv,^ and domefric comfort. The company cf his 
 wife's mother alfo, a woman of extraordiuary 
 
xiv Ltfe of Zimmerman. 
 
 underftandlng, and fingular end:)wments, nndwho 
 formed a part of his houfsholJ, cjiUiiibuted not a 
 little to iacreafe his felicity. 
 
 But perfect felicity is not the lot of man ; 
 and Zimmerman^ though ful-rounJed by every enjoy- 
 ment which is ufur.lly conceived to beit:.w happi- 
 nefs, fufiered a f^fcret une^fmefs to prey up^n his 
 .mind. Tne amurements which Brugp; aff ^;rded 
 were: extremely ccnfi.ied ; and he frequently figh- 
 ed for the enj ymeat c.f th:-?t general fjciety in 
 which he had fou:id fo much fuisfadfon and de- 
 light at Berne, at Gottingen, and at Paris. It is 
 true that he had mariiy amiable friends at Brugg, 
 but they had all their own concerns to attend to, 
 and had little time to d(.vote to the company of 
 .any iadividual. A man of letters requires a 
 pu- lie library and periodical publica'ioas lo re- 
 lort to, nev/ acquaintances to c onverle with, pro- 
 felfional afloeiates to v/hcm he can communicate 
 his various diicoveries ; all of which Zimmerman 
 ^as in a great meafure deprived of at Brugg ; 
 and the want of thefe refourc^s made fuch a deep 
 impreffion on his mind, that he flii into a ftate of 
 nervous languor, or rathsr into a peev'fh dejec. 
 tion cf fpirits,^ and, neglecting all public fcciety, 
 jdevoted himfelf ahnoft entirely to a retired a d 
 fedentary life. His family was almofc the orly 
 company he ronverfed with ; ftudy and compofi- 
 tion the fcle amufem^^nt of his Icifure hour: ; and 
 a correfpondence with a few dillant friends, par- 
 ticul'.-'.rly Dr. TiJJot^ Prcfeflcr Bennett, Dr. Mncard^ 
 Dr. Lettfom and the celebrated Mr. Dchw, her 
 Majefty's librarian at "W'indfor, his orJy rrlief 
 agaiuft the melanchrly and vexation that opprelTed 
 his inii'.d. There is an art in being h3ppy, wiiich 
 every man, who enjoys heabh, hiiwe, and crm- 
 petency, may in all places attain, omm fohim eji pa^- 
 iria fortis ; but every perfcn is net p-iffeffed of it 5 
 and there are^ indeed^ uiea of very e?:traordiLary 
 
Life cf Zinmeman, xv 
 
 talents, and great abilities, who are foiretlmes To 
 weak, or rather fo focUfh, as to det'te ir. It is 
 erJy to im3gl.:e the happinefs of pr.riiciilar condi- 
 tions until we can be content with no ether ; but 
 there is no condiuon whatever under which a 
 certain degree of happinefs may not be aaai^ieJ 
 by thcfe who are i^cluied to be happy. 
 
 Tne great Halle r conceived it to be of as much 
 importance to happiaels to gain the eficem z^ i'?.^ 
 ddnuratioii o{ m-^XiXd^d. and Zwvnennan mi^ht up- 
 on this fubjecl have f( llowed, with infinite ad- 
 vantage, the example of his iUuflrious friend, who, 
 by condefcending to indulge the innocent humor 
 and frailties of th' fe around him, rendered h:m- 
 1-Vif bebved by all who knew him; and by thi5; 
 ra.^ans, vvhile he promoted the happiaefs of eth- 
 ers, iriured his ouii. Bat a n:aa of letters,'^ 
 as Dr. johnfon obferves, fcr the mcil pa-t 
 fp-jnds in th^ priv.cies of ftudy thu fc^afon of Ufa 
 in which the maimers are to be fofcened into eale, 
 and poUfhed into elegance ^ ar.d' when he hr.s 
 gained knowledge enough to be refprdicd, hrs 
 neglecled the minuter a6i:s by which he might 
 have pleafed." Zhmncrman^ inds^ed, frcqiien-tly 
 blamed i^imfelf for indulging this faturnine difpoft- 
 li n, and was far from ccnfidcring retir„"m.ent as a 
 duty ; but he feldom had courage enough to re- 
 nounce the pleafures it beiiowed on hiai ; and it 
 was by rcile(51:ing deeply on its eff.ds, that he 
 was eiabled ib jiifllv to appreciate its advaf^.tages. 
 
 The love of Solitude, which this dilpofiticri 
 fo frcngly engendered in his mind, was not, how- 
 ever, fuiiered to interrupt in any degree the reg- 
 ular difcharge of his prcfeflional duties ; all ap- 
 pearance of deprcflion vani filed the moment he 
 approached the bed cf firknefs ; and he feldom 
 viiited a patient v/hom he did not afterwards, fiad 
 a friend. 
 
 Uuderthefv c'rcumixaiicesj this excdleiu and 
 
Life of Zimmerman, 
 
 able man pailcd fourteen years of an uceafy life ; 
 but neither his incrcalmg pradlice, the fuccefs of 
 his literary purfuits, * tne exhortations of iiis 
 friends, nor the endeavors of his family, were a- 
 ble to remove the melancholy and difcontent that 
 preyed continually on his mind. The theatre on 
 which he aftid leemed too confined for the exer- 
 cife of his great and extraordin;;ry tabnts ; and 
 his friends conceivii:g that his lEind might be re- 
 llored to its former tone, by changing the fcene, 
 and enlarging the fphere of a6^icn, endeavored to 
 procure him promotion. After fome fruitlefs ef- 
 forts to pleafe him, he was, in the beginning of 
 April, 1/68, appointed by the intereft of Dr. Tif- 
 fot and Barm Hockfictten^ to the poft of princip-.il 
 Phyfician to the King of Great-Britain, at Hano- 
 ver \ and he departed from B ugg, to take pof- 
 feifion of his new office on the fourth of July in 
 the fame year. But the hopes with wrich his 
 friends had fondly flattered ihemfelves on this 
 fubje^l were, ?1 s ! in a fhort time, forrowfully 
 dilappointed. The carriage in which he and his 
 family were conveyed to their new refidence wa& 
 
 *■ The following is a corredl lift of his writings in the order in 
 which they appear to have been publiHied. 
 
 2. Diir.rtatif<inauguralis de I rritabilitate, 4to. Gottingen, 1^75I> 
 
 2. The lifeof Frofeflbr Haller,8vo. Zurich, 1755. 
 
 3. Thoughts on the Esrthqu.'.ke which was felt on the 9>th 0^ 
 
 December, 1775. in Swiflerland, 4to. 175^^ 
 
 4. The Subverfion of Liibon, a Poem, 4to, 1756. 
 
 5. Medications on Solituc>e, 8vo 1756. 
 
 6. Eflav on National Pride, 8v-o. Zurich, 1764. 
 
 7. Treatife on Experrente in Phyfic, ^yo. Zurich, 1764. 
 g. Treatife on the Dyfenter' , 8i'o. Zurich, 1767. 
 
 9. Efi-ay on Solitude, 4to, 1773.' 
 10 Efiiiy on Lavater's Phyfiognomy, Hanover. 1778. 
 XI. EHays conftft'ng of agreeable and inftruftive Tales, 8vo. I779. 
 la. Converfations with the King of Prulfu. 
 
 13, Treatife on FrederiQk the Great, 1778. 
 
 14, Seleft views of the Life, Reign, and Character of Frederick 
 
 the Great. 
 
 JJ. A variety of Works puhlifhed in the Helvetic Journal, and ia 
 
 the Journals of the PhyfioUgical So<;iety aS Zs^ich, 
 j6. A work on Zoology, 
 
Life of Zimmerman, ^xvu 
 
 overturned jnft as it was entering the g?.tes of 
 IlAiiover, and his wife's mother received a c riii- 
 p(}und fni6^:are in her leg. In thred diys after 
 his arrival death depri^^ed him of a valuable friend, 
 oni of the lords of the Regency, \yho had I'jng 
 entertained for him a fincere aiie£tlon and moit 
 cordial efteem. His collet ugue, jealous of his fi- 
 perior merit and increafi \g fame, contrived to vex 
 and thwarc him in the difcharge of Ids official 
 duties. A local diforder, under which he had 
 labored formally years, aid wlrlchwas frequent- 
 ly attended with excruciatiEg pain,, grew wcrfe y 
 and to add Rill more to his misfortunes, the health 
 of Madame Zimmerman^ which alwavs very COnfld-. 
 erably i influence .1 his own, vifibly declined. Hap- 
 pily, amidfl this variety of vexations, his extraor- 
 diaary merit forced him into very great and extenlivd 
 praftice, which, together with the company and 
 coiTefpor.dence he regularly maintained with his 
 friends,- engroffed his time, and prevented there- 
 coile(^lion of his c?.res from preying on his mdnd^ 
 Scarcely, however, had he recovered his health 
 ard fpirits, when he was again phinged into the 
 deepeii affliflion by the lofs of his arrdable wife, 
 who, after many years of lingering fud'erance, 
 and pi)us refignation, expired in his arms, 
 on the 23d of June, 1770. The deep and poig- 
 nant forrow he felt cn this misfortune, increafed 
 the local complaint under which he labored, to fo 
 dreadful a degree, that he was obliged, on the nth 
 of jime, 1 77 1, to repair to Berlin,, and place him- 
 felf under the car^ of M, Michl^ a celebrated fur- 
 geon, for t!:e purpofe of undergoirg an operation, 
 it was performed with great ikill ; and he receiv- 
 ed fuch perfeft relief, as to be able to enjoy fo- 
 ciety always with vivaci'y, and frequ.^ntly with 
 e.ife. This period, indeed, feems to have been 
 the happiefl of his life : he had the icexpreffible 
 gratification of fiading himfelf relieved from a 
 
XViii Life of Zhmnemcm. 
 
 lorg and cruel complaint, of enjoying the charms? 
 ot a moft agreeable private fociety, of being uni- 
 vtrfally received with the greatefl attention, and 
 ct becoming acquainted with many eminent lite- 
 rary charad^rs in Germany. His reception on 
 his return to Hanover was equally pleaung, and 
 he fluttered iiimielf that he {hould at bft enj >y a 
 perman'^'nt ft ite of health. But he feemed, alas? 
 defined to experience a conftant viciflitude of plea- 
 fure and of pain ; for, in a (hort time after his 
 return, he experienced another fource of inquiet- 
 u k in the death of his wife^s mother, who, except 
 kis fon and daughter, whofe education fhe bad 
 undertaken to fuperintend, was the only compan- 
 ion of his dome: 1 ic hours. His children too, thole 
 common coinforjs to a parent under affli£i:ion, 
 were to him additional caufes of the keeneft an- 
 gu'fh and the deepeft diRreis. His daughter lad, 
 from her earlieft infancy, difcovered fymptoms cf 
 coiifumptior, fo firong and inveterate as to defy 
 all the powers of medicine. During their refi- 
 dence in Swifii^rl^nd, a young man, " as hand- 
 fome in his perfon as he was amiable in the quali- 
 ties of his iriud,*' had, after a long intimacy, con- 
 ceived a violent attachment for her ; he was " the 
 objed of her firft, of her only aife^tior ; and it 
 was mutually agreed by their parents to unite 
 them, in pr iper time in the bands of matrimony ; 
 but, fo n alter her removal to Hanover, it feems 
 tl-at, for fome caufe which does net clearly ap- 
 pear, he put a period to his ex'ftence. This 
 dreadful event gave a violent (heck to her feeble 
 conftltution, arid threw her into a languilhing 
 complaint, v/hich at length ended in a haemorr- 
 hage of the lungs, and in the fummer of 1781 de- 
 Itroyed her life. The charaft^r of this amiable 
 girl, and the f^elirgs of her afflicted father on this 
 melan^hclly event, his own pen has very afie^lng- 
 y defcribed in the following work* 
 
Life cf Zimmerman* X.k 
 
 But th? ftate and condirirn of h'S fon was 
 flill mere f 'illrefipg to his iecl'rgs than even the 
 deatli of his beloved daiighter. I'his unh'dppy 
 youth, who, whiie he was at the Univei Tity, dif- 
 covered the frielh flincy cud -he fcundtn: I'Huer- 
 ftanding, eiihar from a ii.al'gnant and irveterate 
 fpeci^s cf fcr phula^ with which he had been peri- 
 odic liiy tortured from his earlieft infancy, or from 
 too cl-.fe an appl cation to ftudy, fell very early in 
 life, mto a ftate of borlily infirmity and mental lan- 
 guor, which terminated, in the month of December, 
 1777, in a total derargement of his faculties ; 
 and he has now continued, in fpite of every en- 
 deavor to reftore him, a perfect idiot for more 
 than twenty years. 
 
 The domeftic comforts of Zimmerman were 
 now almoit entirely deifroyed : be had no cne, 
 except Madame de Bering^ the fifter of M, Strule^ 
 Secretary of State, with whom he could " hold 
 communion fweet and large and fhe, to com- 
 plete his mif.-ry, was obliged foon afterwards to 
 leave Hanover, and attend her hufband to a dif- 
 tant part of Germany, where he had lately been 
 appointed to a nev/ employment. The unhrppy 
 and comfcrtlefs fituation of Zimmerman 
 whom fhe had lived on terms of the pm-effc 
 frienjfhip during his refidence at Hanover, made 
 a deep imp-eiGon on her mind, and called forth all 
 thetendereft feelings of her heart. Wiiely con- 
 ceiving that the cnly chance of preventing him 
 ft-om fallin,^ a vidim to his afflidlions, was by 
 UQiiinghim once more in matrimony wi h fcm.e ob- 
 jeft worthy of his choice, fhe carefully examined 
 the character and dilpciition of her female friends, 
 and at length fixed upon the daughter cf AL Ber- 
 ger^ the King's Phyfician at Limenbcurg^ and niece 
 to Barm de Berger^ as a perfon in every refpecft 
 qualified to make him happy. Madame de Bering 
 managed the introdudioa with great delicacy and 
 
XX 
 
 L.ife of Zimmennan, 
 
 addrels ; ar.d had the pleafnre to ol)fc-rve, fooii 
 afterwards, that the fentimer.ts cf the parties cor- 
 relponded p rfVjtly with her own. A friendlhip, 
 founded on reciprocity of iafle and diip-fition, 
 ripened very quickly into the tendereft arft ^flicn ; 
 and they were u.^ited to each ether in Hiarriage 
 about the beginnlrig of Of^ober^ 1782. Zimmer^ 
 man was nearly thirty years older tl au his bride : 
 but genius and good fenfe are always young ; and 
 the iiarl'irity uf their characters obli erated' all 
 recollection of difparity of age. She was well ac- 
 qaaiited with the Englifa language ; fpoke Ital- 
 ian wit i great elega::ce and c^rrectaeis ; revifed 
 bis compoiitions witii critical tafte and found judg- 
 ment ; and continued to the 1 >ft moment of ber 
 life his tutelar deit}^, a plenfmg companion of his 
 profperity,-and his fupp jrt and confolation in ad- 
 
 " vrrfity. He w nt with her iuto company, had 
 freque .tly parties at his own hoiu^e, and enjoyed 
 an agreeable fociety, which reftcred him occafion- 
 ally to his former gaiety and good humor. 
 
 It at this period that he eompofed his 
 great and favcri'e wcrk on Solitude, thirty years 
 
 ' cifter the publication of his fird efTay on the lubjeCi:. 
 it c onfifls of four volumes in qusrto ; the two firli 
 of wbich were pubrfhedin 17S4 ; and the remaining 
 volumes in 1 786. " A work,'* lays Tifoti " Vv^hich 
 v/:ll always be read with as much profi' as pleafure, 
 as it contains the mofl fublime conceptions, the 
 great' ft fag^acity cf obfervation, an extreme propri- 
 ety of applicaiioD, much ability in the ciioice of 
 examples, and. (v,^hat I cannot commend too high- 
 ly, becauie 1 can fay nothing that does him fo much 
 honor, nor give him any praife that would be more 
 gratifying to his ov/n heart) a conftant anxiety for 
 the intereAS of Religion, with the facred and fclemn 
 truths of v/hich his mind was molt devoutly impref- 
 fed. But the friecdthip I entertained for this ex- 
 c<;ilent man dees not fo far blind me as to prevent 
 
Life of Zimmerman, 
 
 me from obferving, that he has not always held the 
 balance beuveea the advant^^g-s of fociety and 
 thofe cf Solitude with a fteaciy and impartial hand. 
 More irchned himfelf to lead a life of Solitude, than 
 to enjoy theufual pleafures of fociety, his difpcfi- 
 tion viiibly predomi'.ates in many parrs of the 
 work, and frequently exhibits the feeble condition 
 cf his nerves, and the hypochondriacal peevifhnefs 
 of h^s terr.per. Tr.ere wrs, however, a ftrikiiig dif- 
 ference between his m.inners and his writings. He 
 was ah;;^ays, in converlativ^n, gentle, polite, and 
 complaifant ; incapable of ever faying an offenfive 
 w:rd ; hu- the moment the pen was in his hand, 
 he left his urbrnity, and became fatiricaL In pub- 
 r.c, the rules of gcod breeding, and the gentlenefs 
 of his chara(S.-r, retrained him ; bui: v/hen retTed 
 to his deflc, his natural energy, his love of virtue, 
 and hig hatred of whatever was ridiculcu^^ carried 
 him awav, ard he v/as no longer mi^fter of himfelf. 
 The mildneis of his temper was conitant and undif- 
 turbed in fociety, but he feized the chara6teriftics 
 of mankind with the greateft es fe and prompt"' tude ; 
 their fellies, their fciL'les, and their incongruities, 
 flruck him at firft fight ; and when he retired to ids 
 clofet, he prdnted them in the livelieft colors*" 
 
 During his rc fidence at Berlin, in 1 771, he had 
 been invited to Potzdam by the king of Pruffia, 
 and had frequent con'ercno's v/ith h's Majefiy re- 
 fpe<^lng the ftate rf his health. The part'culars of 
 thefe conferences he ccmmurdcated by letter to jv 
 friend, who, anxious to prom.ulgate the h:nor 
 Zimmsnnaii had r^'ceived, fhewed it very injudiciouf- 
 ly to feveral pfrlons, from w icfe communications, 
 it was, without the author *s crnfent at lergth pub, 
 lilhed; butin fo falfe and mut'Lned a ft te, that 
 he was induced to print a genuine copy cf it in his 
 own name. The king, while he was reviewing hia 
 {ro:ps in Silefia in the autumn of the year i7'8^5, 
 caii^ht a fevere cold, wliich fettied ou his lungs, aud 
 
xxli I.i/e of i'm^mmdfi, 
 
 ia the courfe cF nine mont:'- s brought on fj^mptoms 
 of an approaching dn^pry.- Zhmierman^hy two very 
 flittering letters of the 6':h ard \6ih of June, 1 7B6, 
 U'sis foHcited by his Mi'jefty to attend him, and he 
 arr'ved at Potzdam ca the 23d cf the fame racBth ; 
 but he imnredi '.t ly difovered that his royal patient 
 had lit^^le hopes of recovery ; and, after trying the 
 eiTecl: of fuch rnedidnes as he thoug':L moft Ukely 
 to aif jrd relief, he returned to Hanov r on the nth 
 of July foliowing,* wntra he publilhc d a very par- 
 ticular and iatere:iing account of hi<? j urn-'y, and 
 of the various COD vcrfition& he had had with the 
 King. He had^ indeed, from Irs youth, attended 
 to tiie hifuory cf the K'r.g of Pi ullra with that inter- 
 tfl v/ith w. ich the man ot' genius folbws the careei: 
 of a grjat characl:j:r, and entertained an high admi* 
 i'.-tion of the talent?, and a fmn atruchment to the 
 perfo.i, of this hero. But; it was not Frederick alone 
 ■^hodifcovered his abilities. When, in the yeaf 
 1788, the melancholy ftate of the King of England's 
 health alarmed the afFedlion of his fubje^ls, and 
 produc:^d an anxiety throughout Europe for his re- 
 covery, the g:vernmeat of liancver dhpatched Zm** 
 tTtennan to Holla nd, that he migr.t be nearer Lon- 
 don in cafe his ]^pre fence There became necefTary ; 
 and he continued at the Hrgue until all darg/r was 
 over. The invitation of the diicernirg Frederick, 
 and the lek<51ion cf the lianoverian Mini'der, who 
 had, for twenty years witnelTcd his abilirif s, gave 
 new and flattering teftimcnies of his medic?l i1<ill, 
 and ailorded hiui that highly pleafng grati^cation 
 which acccip.p-inies a cr.nicioufnefs of the pu-^lic ef- 
 teem. Bel .ved by his particular friends, enj oying 
 the coi fi ierce of three molt potent fovereigns, pof- 
 f-ihng the moil voluutary ppprobiticn of tne pub- 
 lic, an ample fcr;une, and all die comforts cf domef- 
 
 The King only furvived the departure of his i^hyficlan five weeis } 
 H5 died gn th? Hch Qt Au^ufl, i/S^J* 
 
Life (f Zimmermdn, Ttxm 
 
 tic life, his fi uation fesmed to aubrd h'm once 
 morj the profpeci of rcturranc; happinefs. But we 
 niuft not eftiraate the profpefts of felicity by the 
 complexion of exterior circiinifla::cTS. Dif^aft fr.i- 
 •^juently racked his body with excruciating anguifh ; 
 and his mind, enen^atcd, p:rh^p-:, by the blandish* 
 nien^s cf proi'perity, occificnally recoiled upon it- 
 felf, and plunged hi:n iuto l uiguorand defpo.idency. 
 A new ieries of vexatioas alfo pr xeeding from two 
 different cauff^s, fprung up at this peri':^d, and con- 
 tinued topoifon all the fources of his happinefs dur- 
 ing the rem'Ainder cf his life. 
 
 Zimmerman feems to have either fovg:yt or Jef- 
 pifed the darger w>/.6r always accoir.p:ni£S the taOc 
 ofwrinng the h'H .ry of mo'aarc'^s durutT the lives 
 of the'r cotempor^ries : but he adnnired the c'.arac- 
 ter of the King of Pruffia with en'.hufiaflic ardor ; 
 and even fo far from viewing it in the 1-ght in which 
 it w?.s placed by a work written by Miraheau^ and 
 publidied in 1788, enti'.led " The Prufliao M;n::r- 
 chy,'' that he boldly entered the lifts in favor of his 
 royal friend, and publiflied fi fta pamphlet, entitled 
 A defence of Frederick the G-reri, agairft the 
 Count de Mirabeau and riierwards, in the year 
 J 790, a work in three volumes cflavo, entitled 
 " Sclea: Views of the L^fe, Char:c^:T, a-d R ira 
 of Frederick tb^ Great, King of Prufha." Thife 
 works, befides many frrong p:l.tl^ai obfrrvaticn? 
 and anecdotes cf psrticub.r characbrs, contained 
 many very fevere r.nimadverfi3ns on the irrelig'on 
 which prevailed at Berlin, and drev/ down on the 
 head of their author all th ? r.'.nccr cf private anim ^ f- 
 ity and parly fpirit. Truth, h.ivv^ver, was in g n- 
 eral on his firle ; and he oug'it to have treated t>.e 
 malevolent cenfures and ilf.beral attacks of his cppc* 
 nsnts ^vith the cold and filent contempt they defer. 
 ved ; but men of irritable nen^es ave apt to be deep- 
 ly affeifted by trifl'rs, and the virulence wi-'h uhich 
 he was purfued m this cccafivn gaye him much 
 Vvx;;tion» 
 
X^v Life cf Zimmerman* 
 
 Thefecond caufe of his chagrin, at this period, 
 arofe from Lis ftr ng attachment to the caufe of re- 
 ligion, the intertfts of huma;. nature, ;-Dd ihe dan- 
 ger to v/hi:h ha faw all fecial order was imminently 
 expofed. It was the anxiety and moriitication he 
 experienced upon 'his cccafion th?it gave the fjtal 
 bl.m^ to his declining healt'-', and at length deprived 
 him prematurely of his exigence ; for eve*-y thing 
 that related to tb.e hapuinefs not ni :rel/ of uidiv}:!u- 
 fcls, but of m::^nkind in general, Wt.s extrv^uivly dear 
 to him ; and he might well excliin?, 
 
 Homo fum, nihil humani amealicnam puto* 
 
 Mcriilty and politics, or thofe principlrs on 
 which- ^e haopint fs of 'private hfe and the fecurity cf 
 puM'c orior lb efkntially dep.^nd, had ever been 
 iubjefts cf his a tention. 1 he political pr ?dii6llons 
 of Mcntcfquicu and Roiipau, c fpeclally thofe two cel- 
 ebrated works, The Spirit of Laws ^ and The Social 
 Contra^ Y.Q,h.2.d. deeply liudied ; an:i his writings 
 in g^ner :1, but mrr-e prrticuliriy his works on Na^ 
 iio)i:i! Fride and Soliticde^ demonilrate his ccnftaat anx- 
 iety f r t' e public welfare. The celebrity of Rof 
 ferjj^ and the pr-vj; i s,; propenfity to foil )w his po- 
 lilical tcne^Sy cau fed him to rei^ret the many t-rro- 
 neDr.s p. firiois conta .aed in The Social Cmira^, and 
 induced him to r:fute ^lofe p iris of it in which the 
 author endeavors 'o f.ip ihe foundation of all reli- 
 gious princiy:^.es. In compofing his EJfay m SoUtudc^ 
 he v/?s led to inqii're into 'hrrife, the progrels, and 
 theprinr'plcs, of LiUtere r;l!p;ious feels, and to ef. 
 timp.te their :^^,oab]einiIiience and e&fts upon gov- 
 ernmcnlo ; and ha became iirmly p^rluadeJ, to 
 ufe the expreffion cf Tiffht^ that they are " the 
 cuckow^s eggs, which can never be permitted to be 
 hatched witi-out endangering the public tranquili- 
 ty.*' A new and ex r.icrdinary fociety had fprung 
 tip under hi^ own oblerv^ition, v/? ica engaged his 
 •^'hvle attention/and which well aicrited that of the 
 
Life cf Zimmerman, 
 
 XX7 
 
 Civilized wcrld, fiiice it is now clear that the gi-eat 
 object of it was no lefs than to abohih all rdigion, 
 to I'ubvert ibcial order, and to deftroy thereby the 
 happ'uefs of mankind. This confederacy, which 
 was denominated " The Secret Society cfthc Illumina' 
 ted** had become extremely formidable i a Germa- 
 ny ; and Zimmerman^ well acquainted with the per- 
 nicious tendency of its principles, earneftly endeav- 
 ored to oppofe them, by interefxing thofe whom it 
 mcftly concerned to prevent their effefts. The pre- 
 tence cf its members was the happinefs of the people ; 
 and, fuppofmg this happiaefs to be iocompaiible 
 with every fpsciescf religion and civil eftablifhment 
 at preftint exilling, they cried with one voice, " Let 
 Its defiroy them all^ and raze their very found.ations,^^ 
 It inclu.^ed, in ihorr, am.ong its dark defigns, the 
 whole cf the do61riiie which the Jacobins of Paris 
 have fince fo fatally put in praftice ; and it has 
 been proved, by the moft irrefragable documents,* 
 that they not only m.aintained an intimate corref- 
 poudence together long before the revolution, but 
 that the deftruclion of the Chriftian religiDn, and 
 ths fubverfion of every throne, and of all govern- 
 ments, was, ever liace the year 1776, the fecretaim 
 and fcle obj of thtfe criers. They adopted, ia 
 fh:^rt,th?a execrable obfen^ationknov/niand celebra- 
 ted in France, and generally attributed to Diderot : 
 " JMankind will never be perfe(fdy happy and free, 
 until the lifl: kings fliall be ftrangled with the bow- 
 els cf the bft of priefts." The fociety of i he Ilhom- 
 ?2ated w.i5 compofed ef five diiticdl: claiTes and mem- 
 ber?, who were fcunded, prepared, and raifed ftep 
 by fcp, as they difcovered them.felves worthy to be 
 trufled with its mifchievous myfteries. This mode 
 of iQtrodu(^i.-^n, fo confonput to the nature of the 
 affeinbly, was firft faggtfled, in the year 17S2, by 
 
 * See Memoirs for the Plenipotentiaries afjenrsbled at Soi/Tons, m 
 which is demon it rated how prejudicial the Sociecy ot Jelaits is to 
 <hu»ch and ftate, 
 
 (HI) 
 
Lifii of Zimmerman p 
 
 Baron dc Kiiigge ; and by the infmuatlng manners 
 and captivatng linguage which the principal man- 
 agers well knew how to ufe, the number of affiHa- 
 ted members increafed from day to day. Many 
 honefl men had grieved in filence, on perceiving the 
 evils which were likely to refult from the baleful 
 dcclriaesprcp 'gated with eq-nal art and indiiftry, by 
 this dangerous conibinaticn : but Zimmennan vj?s 
 jthe firfl who had the courage to unveil the danger- 
 ous princ'ples of thefe new philofophers, and to ex- 
 hibit to the e^^es of the German Frinces the rilk 
 they ran innegk clir.g to oppofe the prcgrefs of fo 
 formidable a league. He convinced many t f them, 
 and pariicularly the Emperor Leopold the Sccoml, that 
 the views of thefe illuminated conipirators were the 
 deflruftlon of Chrilrknity, and the fubverfion of 
 all regular government ; and thn.t many ccurtiers, 
 minifters, judges., officers in the army, prelaies of 
 the Roman church, an immenfe number of inferi- 
 or ecclefiaftics, and even fome of the f. verei[<n prin- 
 ces of Germany, v/ere not only tainted by the new 
 do6):rines, but active m.embrrs of the f c'ety. Thefe 
 exertions, while they contributed to leiTen the dan- 
 ger which threatened his adopted country, greatly 
 impaired his health. Deeply impreiled, however, 
 with the imp :Ttance cf his caufe, he profecuted his 
 labors with unremitiing attention, and d^r voted the 
 hours of repofe, both f aily in the morning, and 
 late in the evening, to this arduous tafK. He feemiS, 
 indeed, to have been urged by fomeihlng like per- 
 fonal con(ideratk)n ; for, ii letter which he v. role 
 tg his friend Dr. Ti/Jit^ rn the 4th cf October, 1794, 
 he fays, " 1 may yet, befrre tiie year expires, be- 
 come a poor diftrafTr.d eniigrjint, forced to leave his 
 houfe with the dear partner of his cares, without 
 knowing where to hide his hea l, or find a b^d on 
 V'hich to die acd certainly theinvalion of the A 
 electorate, the facking of Ilanover, ard tlie necelu- * 
 ty of abandottisg if, were at that tiring much to be 
 
 i 
 
Life of Zimmerman* x^vii- 
 
 feared ; for negociation alone faved a country 
 which irs arms were incapable of defending. Thtfe 
 fentimerits announce the deep depreflion of his" 
 mind, and evince the hfs of that firm tone and vig- 
 6rous exertion which w?.s neceffar'y to fupport his- 
 - lad endeavors to repel the inopending calamity. 
 His rpirits, indeed, had received a ihcck from which 
 they v/eta unable to recover, even Vv^hen the dan- 
 ger was removed. In the month of November^ 
 1794, he was obl'ged to have recoiirfe to ftrong 
 opiates to procure even a fhort repofe ; h's appetite 
 decreafed ; his flre:igth failed hia\ ; and he became 
 foweak and emaciated, that, in January, T795, 
 when he was induced to viut a few particubr pa- 
 tients in his carriage, it was painful to him to write 
 a prefcrlption, and he frequently fa'nted w!iie af- 
 cendiEg to the room. Thefe fymptoms were fol- 
 lowed by adizzinefs in his head, which obligid 
 him to relinquiih all bufmcfs. At lengih the axis cf 
 his brain gave way, and reduced him to fa:h a Ifate 
 of mental imbecliiy, that he was haunted coctin- 
 mlly by an idea that the enemy wa^ plundering hii 
 houle, and that he and his family were reduced to 
 a ftate of mifery and want. His medical friend?, 
 particularly Dr. Wkhman^ by Vv'hom lie Vv-as con- 
 ftantly attended, contributed their advice and af- 
 fjftance to reftore him to health ; and conceiving 
 that a journey, and change of air v/ere the l?e5 
 remedies that could be apphed, they fent him to Eu- 
 tin, in the Duchy of HcKtein, where he continued 
 three months, and, about the month cf June, 179^, 
 returned to Hanover greatly recovered. But tiie 
 fatal dart had infixed itfelf too deeply to be entire- 
 ly removed ; he foon afer wards relapfed into his 
 former imbeciUty, and barely exified in lingering 
 fuiFerance for many months, refufing to take any 
 medicines, and fcarcely any food ; continually har- 
 raffed and diftrefled by the cruel illufion cf povertv, 
 which again haunted his imagination. At certain 
 
xxvili Life Cff Zmmemmt 
 
 intervals his mind feemed to recover ciily for the 
 parpofe of rendering; him fenlibie of his approach- 
 Tng difToliUion ; for he frequently faid to his phyfi- 
 cians, " My death I perceive will be flow and pain- 
 ful and, about fourteen hours before he died, he 
 exclaimed, " Leave me to myfelf ; I sm dying." 
 At length his emaciated body and exhaufled mind 
 funk beneath the burden of mortality, and he ex- 
 pired without a groan, cn the 7th of O Aober, 1 795. 
 
THE 
 
 Injiuence of Solitude. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Introduclion, 
 
 Jn this nnquiet and tumultuous fcene of 
 rfe, lurrounded by the reftraints of ceremony, the 
 urgencies of bufmefs, the (hnckles of fociety, and 
 in the evening of my days, I feel no delight in 
 tracing back the images of pleaf'ure that pals fa 
 tranfieally away : my foul dwells with higher fat- 
 isfaclion on the memory of thofe happy days ot 
 my youth, when Solitude was my fole amufe- 
 merit ; when I knew no place more agreeable 
 , than the fequeftered cloifterand the filent cell, the 
 • lonely mountaia and the fablimely awful grove ; 
 nor any pleafures more lively than thofe I experi* 
 enced in converfmg with the dead. 
 
 I love to recal to my mind the cool and filent 
 fcenes of Solitude ; to oppofe them to the heat 
 and buftle of the world ; to meditate on thcf^ 
 advantages which the great and good of every 
 age have acknowledged they polTefs, though per- 
 haps too feldom experienced ; to reHecl cn the 
 powerful con folar ions they afford v/hea grief cor- 
 rodes the mind, when difeafe affl'-tts ths^ bodyj, 
 (UI 2) 
 
30 The Influence of SoBude^ 
 
 whea the number of cur years bends ns to the 
 j?:rou.ad ^ to contemplate, in' fhort the benign in- 
 Husnceof Solitude upon all the troubles of the heart. 
 
 Sclitude is that fiate in vi'hich the foul freely 
 refigns itlelf to its own refie<5licns. The fage, 
 therefore who banifhes from his n:ind all recoL ! 
 iciSlioa of the obje£ls by which he is furrounded, 
 and retires within himfelf, is not lefs fclHary than 
 he who forfakes fcciety, and devotes himfelf en- 
 tirely to the calm enjoyments of a lonely hfe. 
 
 In retirement every man furrenders himfelf, 
 without reil:raint or limitation, to the guidance of 
 his own ideas, and implicitly adopts the fenti- 
 ments which his tafle, temper, inclination, and 
 genius infpire. 
 
 Oblerve the fliepherds of thcfe extenfive def- 
 arts : one chaunts the beauty which captivates 
 the foul ; another moulds the' clay into a ruPtic 
 vafe ; the furrounding charms of nature form the 
 fole delight and admiration of a third j while a 
 fourth inveftigates the prectpts cf the moral law, 
 ' or contemplates the iublime truths of our holy re- 
 ligion. If they were refpefdvely to meet a lovely 
 ihepherdefs beneath the (hades of their retire- 
 ment, feared on the borders of fome gently flow- 
 ing fiTeam, the heart of each might perhaps be- 
 come the Have cf love ; but, deprived of ail that 
 is dear to man, and doomed to tsfte invrJuatary 
 Solhude, the beft refource fc^r each is to refign 
 himfelf to the dictates of his inclination : a re- 
 fource to which every v/ell-difpofed and virtuous 
 TJiind may conftantiy refort without difmay or 
 danger. 
 
 Man in a Rate cf perfedl freedom polTeffes an 
 innate right to follow the fuggeftions of his fan- 
 cy : fome are delighted by the foft melody cf the 
 nightingale, while others liften with eq'^-al plealure 
 to the hideous ihriekings of the cwl. Soi.".e there 
 are to whom even the vifits of friendlhip are dif- 
 
The Influence of Seltinde, 3 1 
 
 pleafing ; whvo, to avoid the pair.fr.l interccuife, 
 confine themfelves eiernaliy at hoiLe, ard con- 
 fume their hours in wTitirx,; books, or kiilir g flies. 
 
 The poor dejeded heart confcantly attachrs it- 
 lelf to fome lavcrite object, far at leaft, as cir- 
 cuinftances and fituation will permit, from v/hich 
 it draws its confoiation and fupport. Roan^ing 
 through the clcifters of the MagdaUme Convent at 
 Hildelheim, i was furprifed to oblerv^e an aviary 
 of Canary birds in the cell ( f a Religieufe- A 
 Brabancon gentleman, fearful of the effeds cf 
 cold, and having the fame averfion from women 
 that certain perfons are faid to feel from mice^^ 
 lived five and twenty years at BrulTels immured 
 within his hcufe, without any other am.ufement 
 than that of colleding a magnificent cabinet of 
 paintings and pidures. 
 
 Under the confinement even cf the durgeon 
 iifelf, men, deprived forever of their liberty, en- 
 deavor to beguile the foUtude in v/hich they are 
 forced to live, by devoting their thoughts, as 
 far as they are able, to thofe purfuits which afford 
 them the higheft pleafure. The Swifs philofo- 
 pher, Michael Ducret, raer.fured the heights cf 
 the Alps during his confinement in the prifon of 
 Aarbur^, in the canton of Berne in Switzerland ; 
 and while baron de Trenck, a prifoner in the 
 tower of Magdeburg, v/as every moment anx- 
 ioufly emiployed in form.ing prcjeds to effed his 
 efcage. General Walrave, the corcp'cinion of his 
 captivity, contentedly paffed his time in the feed- 
 ing of- chickens. 
 
 The term Solitude dees not, I conceive, always 
 import a total abfence from the v/orlJ. Some- 
 times it conveys to my mind the k^ea of dwell ing^ 
 in a convent, or a country vill-ige : fomeumesl 
 underirand it to m^e^n the library cf a man of 
 iearni- g : and fometiivies an occafional retreat 
 from ths tuiViUUs of ndive life. 
 
"J a ^The Influence of Sditud^, 
 
 Men are frequently Sclitary without being a- 
 lone ; for, to conllitute aliateof Sclirude, it is 
 fufHcient iftre miuJ be entirely ob for bed by thofe 
 ideas wi ich its own rcflefhcns create. 
 
 The haughty barcn, proud of the diflirdicns of 
 birth, feels hiii felf aicne in every focieiy, whofe 
 members are not ennobled by an equal number of 
 titles derived t' rough a lorg li e of hereditary de- 
 fcenrs. A prcfcund reafcner is, in g-, neral. Soli- 
 t?.ry at the tabks of the v/iity and the gay. The 
 mind, eveu amidft the clamours of a popuhr af- 
 femrjy, niay wi hdraw its attention from the fur- 
 roundmg obje(5ls, may retire as efFeftually whhin 
 itfelf, may become as Schtary, as a monk in his 
 monrJieryj or an hermit i:i his cell. In fhcrt. Soli- 
 tude may be as e?fi!y attained amidfl the gayeft 
 circles of the moft brilliant ciiy, as in the uninter- 
 rupted filence of a poor, defertcd village ; at Lon- 
 don and at Paris, as well as on the plains of 1 lie- 
 balsor in the drfarts of Nitria. 
 
 A treatife, therefcre, upon the real advantages 
 to be derived from Solitude, appeared to me a 
 proper means to affifl men in their fearch after 
 hapoinefs. The fewer external refources men 
 pc fiefs, the greater efforts they make to difcover 
 in themfelves the pov/er of beirg happy ; and the 
 more they are enahleJ to part, without regret, 
 from their connexions with each other, the near- 
 er they moft certainly approach to true felicity. 
 The pleafures of the world appear to me unwor- 
 thy of the avidity with whicn they are purfued, 
 but it is equally true, that, upon a ferious exam- 
 ination, all thofe Catholic notions, once fo cele- 
 brated, of a total feclafion from the world and 
 ks co^iCems, appear altogether impri^icable, and 
 equiUy abfurd. To render the inind independ- 
 ent of human aiTiftance, and teach ir to rrly^ en- | 
 tirely upj i the ftrength of its own powers, is, i ! 
 ackiowkdge, a noble exertion \ but it is certain. 
 
Tlx tnf.uence &f Solitude, ^3 
 
 iy as meritcrious to lenfn the art of living happily 
 in I he bolcm cf focie^y, and of rendering our- 
 ielves ureful and agreeable to the reft cf mankind. 
 
 While, therefore, I defcribe the alluremfntg 
 of Sohtude, 1 Ih'ill endeavor^to warn my re?.der» 
 againft rhofe dangerous excelTes into whicl^ feme 
 cf its diic'ples have b*en betrayed; excelTes 2S 
 repugnant to the voice of reafon, as ' they are con- 
 demned by the precepts of our holy religion. 
 
 Happily to r.void all the dangers by which 
 my fubjedl is furrounded, to facrifice nothing to 
 prejudice, to advance nothing in violation of 
 irutii, to obtain the apprrbaiion of the p:-accful 
 difciples cf reafon and philofophy, will be my 
 anxious endeavor ; and if aftllffion fhall derive 
 a ray of ccnfclation from ^ny labors : if mehn* 
 chcly, in fbrgetting the horrors of its fituation, 
 ihaii raife its dejetted her.d tc blefs me ; if I fhaM 
 be abl'; to convince the i ^.:io:er.t votr.ries of rural 
 retire? i ca!:, that the xpiiiif^s cf phcifiire f: on dry 
 up in the heat of the metropohs ; that the heart 
 remains cold and fenfelefs in the midft of all its noify 
 and faffiiious joys ; if ihey maii kam i6 teel th^- 
 fuperior pleafures of a country life, becouie fen«. 
 fible cf the variety of refources they afford againft 
 idlenefs and vexation ; what purity of fentlment, 
 what peaceful thoughts, what unfading happinefs, 
 the view of verdant meads, the fight of numer- 
 ous flocks and herds quitting the fertile mesdows 
 on the clofe of day, inftil into the miind ; with 
 v/hat ineffable delight the fuhUme beauty of a 
 v/ild, romantic country, interfperled with didant 
 cottages, and occupied by freedom and content, 
 ravifnes the foul ; how much more readily, ia 
 fhort, we forget all th.e pains and troubles of a 
 wounded heart cn the borders of a gentle ftream, 
 than. amidft the concourFe cf deceitful joys lb fa- 
 tally follov/ed in the c:ur{s of princes ; my talk 
 will be accompliihed, and all my wiflies amply 
 gratified I 
 
34 Influence cf Sotitud^-t 
 
 CHAP. 1L 
 
 The general Advantages of Solitude, 
 
 Solitude engages the aSeftlons of 
 men, wnenever it holds up a pidufe cf tranquili« 
 ty to their view. The doleful and monotonous 
 found of the cl >ck of a fequeflered monadery, 
 the filenceof nature in a D ili n'ght, the pure air 
 on the fummit of a Ingh mountain, the tliick 
 dsrknefs of an ancient foreft, the fight of a tem- 
 ple fallen into rui.is, infpire the foul v/ith a foft 
 melancholy, and baniih all recollection of the 
 world and its concerns. But the man who can- 
 not hold a friendly c ^refpcndence v»^ith his own 
 heart, who derives no comfrrt from the reflections 
 of his mind, who dre:^,ds the idea of meditation, 
 and is fearful of paiTng a fmgle moment with 
 himfelf, looks with an equal eye cn Solitude and 
 on death. He endeavors to enjoy all the volup- 
 tuoufnefs whxh the world affords ; draius the 
 pernicious cup of pleafure to its dregs ; and un- 
 til the dreadful moment approaches when he be- 
 holds his nerves fhattered, and all the powers of 
 his foul deftroyed, he has not courage to make 
 the delayed confefli m, " / am tired of the ivorld 
 and all its idle fQllies^ and now prefer the mournfid fhade 
 of the cyprefs to the intoxication of its noify pkafure and 
 tmnult lions joys.'' 
 
 The dangers to which a life of Solitude is 
 expof^^d, for eve;3 in Solitude many reid da-gers 
 exKL aFord no fubPan ial argument againfc it ; 
 as by a judicious employmen!: of the hours of 
 activity repofe, and a proper vigilance upon 
 the defires of t;ie heart, they may be eaiily elud- 
 ed. The adventurous navigator, when acquaint- 
 ed with the regnal of approaching dangers, and 
 the fituatioa of thofe rocks aud fliQ^ls which 
 
The hifiucnct of Solkude, 35 
 
 threaten his fafety, no lorg'-r fe?-rs the perils to 
 which i:e was before expo fed. The advantages 
 of Solitude are ft ill l.fs difprcved by the ccin- 
 phin s cf ihcfe v/h.-^, feeling a cortiDi.;al de^re to 
 efcape from themfelves, "re incapable of every 
 enjcyment but what the worli affords ; to \^ hom 
 retirement and tranquility appear vapid and fa- 
 tiguing ; 2i\A who, uriConfcicus cf any ncMer 
 pleaiiire than that cf p?.yirg or receivirg vifi*?, 
 have of courfe no idea of the delights cf fcli- 
 tude. 
 
 It is, therefor?, only to thcfe diftinguiflied 
 be'pgs who can refer t to their c\\ti bcfonis for an 
 antidote againft difquiet, who r.re fer.rlefs of the 
 Dumercus lacrifices which v'rtue^ may demand, 
 whcfe fouls are.e:-;dowcd with fr:tEcier-t .enen,y to 
 drive away the dreiid cf being alone, and wh:fe 
 hearts are fufceptibie cf the puve and tranquil de- 
 lights of dornefLic feh:ity, that I pretend to rr- 
 cominend the advantages cf »Sditude. The mif- 
 eral-^le being in wh bof^m the ccrrupticns of 
 the world ■ h:.ve already deilroyed thefe precious 
 gifts of nature ; who knows no other pkafure, 
 is fenfihle to no ether hr.ppinefs than whar cards 
 cr the luxury of a richly-iurmfhed t-. ble ?i?:rd j 
 who dilllains all exercife of the underflanding, 
 thinks all dehcacy of fentimeat unnatural, and, by 
 a brutahty almoft inconceivable, hug; s at the ia- 
 cred name of fenfibility ; inuft be lofl to virtue, 
 and nferly incapable c-f pler.fura frcm any opera- 
 tions of his own mind. 
 
 philofophers and minifters cf the gofp:-l, if 
 they were entirely lo deprive then^.felves gf the 
 pleafnr^fs cf icciety, aad to flmn, with rigid fe ver- 
 ity, the honeft comforts and ration;.! amufeine»its 
 cf life, would, without doubt, elTeniially injure 
 the interefts of wifdom and vii tac ; but there are 
 not, at prefent, many preceptors wh.o carry their 
 dcclriaes to this extent cn the contrary, there 
 
3^ 
 
 The Infiiicnce cf Solitude, 
 
 exifls a multitude, both in the country and the 
 town, to whom Solitude would be iniupportable, 
 who fhainefully devote their time to noify diffi- 
 p^tioiis and tuaiiiltuous ploafures altogether in- 
 confittant with their charafters acd fundicns. 
 The celebrated a&ra is piiiled when a life of retire- 
 ment and contemplation was alone edeemed, and 
 when the spproaches to heaven were meafured 
 in proportion as the mind receded from its attach- 
 ments to the wcrld. 
 
 After having examined the influence of Sol- 
 itude upon the genc-ral habits of l:fe, and upon 
 thcfe ordinary pie? fares which are purfued with 
 fuch uncealing avidity, I fhall fhew, in the firft 
 divillon of this chapter, that it enables man to 
 live independent and al jns ; that there is no mif- 
 fortuce it canact alleviate, no fcrr..w that it will 
 not ibf:cn y that it adds dignity to his character, 
 and gives trefn vigor to the powers of his mind ; 
 that be cannot, in any other fituaiicn, acquire fo 
 perfe<5l a knowledge of hia'fdf ; that it enlarges 
 the fphere of atteiuioa, and ripens the feeds of 
 judgment ; in lli;r', th?.t it is frorn the influ- 
 ence of Solitude alone, that man can hope for the 
 fruition of unbroken pleafures and never-fading 
 felicity. 
 
 The erjoyments of adive life may eafilybe 
 blended with the mofl ordinary advantages of 
 Schtude ; and we fhrdl foon dilccver upon what 
 foundations the opinions of thof-i philcfophers 
 are bulb, who maintain that the tumults of the 
 wcrld, and the difT-pation of its votaries, are in- 
 compatible with the calm exercife of reafon, the 
 decifionsof afcber judgm.ent, the inveftigation cf 
 truth, and the ftudy of the hunian heart. 
 
 The legion of fantaftic f^fhions to which a man 
 of pleafure is obliged to facrifice his lime, im.p;iirs 
 the rational faculties of his mind, and deiiroys the 
 native energies of his foul. Forced continually 
 
T^'e Iripuente of Bolitnde* ' 
 
 to lend himfelf to the performance of a thoufand 
 iittle triflings, a thoutand mean abfurdities, he 
 becomes by habit frivolous and abfurd. The 
 £ice of things no longer wears its true and genu- 
 ine afpecfl ; and his depraved tafte lofes all relifh 
 for rational entertainment or fubftantial pleafure. 
 'j'he infatuation feizes on his brain, and his cor- 
 -rupted heart teems with idle fancies, and vain im- 
 aginations. Thefe illufions, hov/ever, throug^i 
 which the phinelt objed; comes diflorted to his 
 view, might eafily be difpeiled. Accuftomed to 
 a lonely life, and left to refled in calmnefs and 
 Ibbriety, during the filence of the Solitary hour, 
 upon the falfe joys and deceitful pleafures which 
 the parade of vifiucg and the glare of public en- 
 tertainments offer to our view, he would fooa 
 perceive and candidly acknowledge their nothing- 
 nefs and infipidity : fcon would he beheld the 
 pleafures of the world in their true^ colors, and 
 feel that he had ^ blindly wandered in purfuit of 
 phantoms ; poffeffmg ibmething in appearance, 
 .but nothing in reality. 
 
 Languor and diflatisfadion are ever the in- 
 evitable confequences of this ardent purliiit of en- 
 tertainments and diverfiDns. He who has draia- 
 - ed the cup of pleafure to its lail drop ; who is 
 obliged to confefsthat his hopes are fled, and that 
 .. the world no longer contains an objed worthy of 
 J his purfuit: who feels difappointments and dif- 
 i gufl: mingled with all his enjoyments ; who feems 
 aflonifhed at bis own infenflbihty ; who no long- 
 er poflTefles the magic of the enchantrefs Ima- 
 gination to gild and decorate the fccne; calls ia 
 vain to his afliitance the daughters of ienfuality ; 
 their careiTes can no longer ctiarm his dark and 
 ■ melancholy mind ; the foft and fyren fong of lux- 
 ury n© longer can difpel the cloud of difcontent 
 which hovers round his head. 
 
 Behold yon weak old man ! his mind ener- 
 (IV) 
 
Thfe Jufuencc of Solitude. 
 
 vated, and his conftitiition gone, running «fft(?r 
 pleaiures that he no more mud tafte. Tlae airs of 
 .saiety which he affe(5ls, render him ridiculous. 
 His attempts to fhine expofe him to derifion. His 
 endeavors to difplay the wit and eloquence of 
 youth, betray him into the garrulity of old age. 
 His converfa'tion filled with repetitions and fadgu- 
 ing narrative, creates dilguft, and only forces the 
 dmile of pity from th€ lips of his youthful rivals. | 
 To the eye of wirdom, however, that faw hini \ 
 through all the former periods of his life, fpark- 
 ling in all the circles of folly, and rioting in the 
 iioiiy rendezvous of extravagance and vice, his 
 character always appeared the fame. 
 
 The wife man in the midfl of the mofh tu- 
 jnultuoias pleafures, frequently 4'etires within 
 himfelf, and filently compares what he might 
 do with what he is doing. Surrounded even by 
 the excefles of intoxication, he alfociates only -with 
 thofe warm and generous fouls, whole highly ele- 
 ,:vated minds are drawn towards each other by 
 wifhes the moft virtuous, and fentiments the 
 -^inofl fublime. The filence cf SoHtude has 
 more than once given birth to enterprizes of 
 the greateft importance and utility ; and fome of 
 the moft celebrated adions of mankind were per- 
 haps firft infpired among the founds of mufic, or 
 conceived in the mazes of the dance. Senfibleand 
 elevated miods never commune more cloi'ely with 
 themfelves than in thofe places of public refort in 
 which the low and vulgar, abandoned to the ca- 
 price of fafhion and the illufions of fenfuality, be- 
 -come incapaMe of refledion, and blindly lliffer 
 themfelves to be overwhelmed by the torrent of 
 folly and diftracffion. 
 
 Vacant fouls are always burthenfome to their 
 pofTeffors ; and it is the weight of this burdea 
 that impels them inceHantly in (he purfuit s of dif- 
 4ipaUon for rdiefi ^ The irrefiHible inclination by 
 
The InJhienH of SoUtudt\ 7^' 
 
 t^^hich they J^re carried continually abroad, the 
 anxiety with which they I'earch for fociety, the 
 trifles, on w \q]\ from day to day they fpend their 
 time, anr.cunce the emptineis of their minds and" 
 the frivolous aiiecticn of their hearts- Pcll'.liing;- 
 no rcfourccs within themfelves, they are forced^ 
 to rovvj abroad, and fa^lxn up:n every ol jcci: that 
 preleuts iiftlf to their view, until they find ti^e'' 
 wiihed for harbor to protect them againll the at* 
 tacks cf dilcontent, and prevent thciii from ra-» 
 finding on tlieir ignoble condition. 
 
 'Ihe enjoyments of fenle, therefore, are ttius 
 indefatigally fell v/edonly as a nicans of eica- 
 pirg from themf-lves. I hty feize with avidity 
 upon every objecl that promiles to occupy the 
 prefent hour agreeably, and provide cuertain- 
 iTient for the day that is p;:irmg orer their heads 
 this muitever he fome e:-itenval- object, f:,me new 
 ph.mtom, fomething- that fhall prevent them 
 from remainlrg wi=h themfelves. The manwh fe 
 mind is Riffici-ntiy fertile to invent hour after 
 h:ur new ichemes of plealure, to open day al-- 
 ter day freih fources cf amulement for the l?.zy 
 and hixurious, is a valuable companion i ^.deed, 
 he is th^.ir brlt, their only friend ; not that they- 
 are them.felves deiiitute of abihty to find fucli 
 employment as n ight prevent the total facrifice 
 of time, and relieve their bofoms from the bur-; 
 
 . then of themfelves ; but having always indti^.ged 
 the inclinaticn of beirg led continually from one 
 new obj;a to anothtr, the call of pleafare be- 
 
 ; comes the lirfl want andmoii arc'ent wi(h of their 
 li^fs. From that moment they infenfibly iofe the 
 
 ^ pow:r of acting from themfelves, and depend for 
 every thing on thole about thens, without being, 
 
 I ?J)le to direcl or determine the impreffioiis they 
 ought to rec-rive. This is the reafon why the- 
 tich, who are feldoin acquainted with any cthc$' 
 
Tl^e Inf,ucnee of ^oUtucU* 
 
 pleafures than thofe of fenfe, are, in generiil, tlie 
 nicft miferable of men. 
 
 The nobility and courtiers cf France think 
 their er.joyments iipp^ar vain and ridiculous only 
 to thofe who have not the opportunity of partak- 
 ing in them ; but I r.m of a different opinion. 
 
 Returning one Sunday from Trianon to 
 Verfailles, 1 psrceivcd at a diftance a number of 
 people alTembled upon the terrace of the caltle, 
 and on a nearer approach I beheld Louis the 
 Fifteenth furrounded by his court at the windows 
 of his palace. A man very richly dreiled, with a 
 large pair of brandling antlers fcflened on his 
 head, whom they called the fiag, ^v/as purfueJ 
 by about a dozen others, who compofed the pack. 
 The purfued and the purfiiers leaped in^o the 
 great canal, fcrambled cut again, acd ran about 
 to ail part.9, while the air refounded with accla- 
 ♦matiors and clapping of hands, to encourage the 
 continuance of the fport. "What can all thiy 
 mean la'd I to a Frenchman who flood near 
 me — " Sir," he replied Vvith a very ferious ccu^^- 
 tenance, ''it is for the entertainment of the court.*' 
 
 The moll: obicure and indigent perlons are 
 certainly happier than thefe fovereigns of the 
 world, and their llavifh retinue, when reduced to 
 the neceffity of adopting fuch mean and aVject 
 modes of entertainment. 
 
 The courtier, v/hen he appears at a lev^e, 
 outwardly affeds the face of j :y, while his heart 
 is inwarJiy a prey to the moft excruciating for- 
 rows ; and Ip aks with the livelieli: intereil cf 
 tranik(flions in which he had no concern ; but 
 perhaps it is necelfary to his confequence that he 
 fh -luld raife falfe appearances to the minds of his 
 vilitors, who on their fide impofe equally on him 
 in return. The fuccefs, alas ! of all his fclienres 
 affords him no other pbafure than to fee his a- 
 partments crowded with company, whofe only 
 
fej Influence of Solit^Jd^ 4.?. 
 
 ft^erit and recommendation in his eyes is a firing 
 of hereditary ti les, of perhaps no very remote 
 antiquity or hoiicKible origin. 
 
 On this privation of the li^bt of hiiman reafon 
 do the felicities of a worL'ly life mcit" frequently 
 depend. From this dark fource fpring the inordi- 
 nate pride of the haughty noble, and the no lef^ 
 unbounded ambition of the fimple ^nechanic.^ Hence 
 arife the difdahi of fome^tbe haughtinefs cf others,- 
 and the felly cf alL- 
 
 To men of diflipated minds^ who dread, be-- 
 3^ond every other ferr, the painful intrufion of a 
 rational fentim.ent, thefe numerous and noify places 
 of public refcrt appear like temples dedicated to 
 their idol pleafure. He who leeks happinefs- on- 
 the couch cf indolence ; who expends all the acbv« 
 iiy of his mind, all the energies of his heart, upon 
 iriliing objects ; who fuffers vain and frivolous pur- 
 fuits to abfcrb his time, toergiige his attention, to 
 lock up i; 11 the fundionscf his fouljC-innot patiently 
 endure the ideaofbeingfcr onemoment by himfelf. 
 
 Direful condition ! Is there then no occupa- 
 tion wha:f:,ever. no ufeful employment,, no ration- 
 al recreation fufficiently high and digaified fcr fuch 
 a character I Is he of neceility reduced to the af- 
 flicting fi nat ion of not being able to perfcrtn a good 
 and virtuous aclion during the intervals of fufp :-ndi'~ 
 ed pleafure ? Can he render no fr-rvices to friend- 
 fh'P ? to his country? to himfelf ? Are there no 
 poor and miferable beings, to w-iofe bofoms he might 
 aff.;rd a charitable comfort and relief? Is it,, in 
 fhort, impclTible for fuch a character to become in 
 any way, more wife or virmous than he was be- 
 fore ? 
 
 The powers of the human foul are more ex- 
 ten five than they are in gener;.l im?-gi';,ed to be ; 
 andhewh?, urged by inclination, or compelled by 
 neceility, moft tr-:qucn'.ly exerts them, will f':on fiad 
 that tne highcil felicities, of which our nature is ca^ 
 (iV 2) 
 
4''2 The Influence of Solifucfc'' 
 
 pabk, refide jntirely within 'oiirf elves. The wants 
 of life are, for the greater part, merely artificial ; 
 and although fenfual objeds moft efficacioufly con- 
 tribute to our pleafure and content, it is not becaufe 
 the enjoyment of them is abfolutely neceffary, but 
 becaufe they have been rendered defirable by the 
 effect of habit. The gratifications they afford, ea- 
 !ily perfuade us, that the pjffeffion of them is effen- 
 tial to happinefo ; but if we had fortitude to refift 
 their charms, and courage to lock within our owa 
 bofoms for that felicity which we fo anxioufly ex- 
 pect to derive from external abjecl:s, we fhould fre- 
 •luently find a much gr-ater varety of refources 
 <there than all the objects of fenfe are capable of af- 
 fording. 
 
 Men of fnperficial minds may indeed derive 
 fome amufement from affemhiies, to which the 
 company in general refort merely to fee and ia he feen : 
 but hrDw many women of fafhion expire in fiich af- 
 femhiies, under all the m.ortification of difappointed 
 vanity \ how many neglecled wits fuUenly retire 
 iato fomeobfcure corner of the room \ The mind, 
 cn entering the circles of th^e gre:it r.nd gay, is apt 
 to flatter itfelf too highly with hopes of apphufe ; 
 to wait with too much anxiety for the promiled 
 pleafure. Wit, coquetry, fer.fu ility, it is true, are 
 at thefe meetings, frequently exercifed with c>.nfid- 
 erable fuccefs. Every candidate difphiys the little 
 talent he polTeffes to the befl advantage ; and the 
 ieaft informed are not unfrequently confidered the 
 moft fhinicg characters. The eye, however, may 
 occafionally be gratified by the fight of ohjeds re- 
 ally agreeable ; the ear may liften to obfervations 
 truly fl ittering. Lively thoughts and fenfible re- 
 marks now and then prevail. CharacVers equally 
 amiable and iatereftlng, occafionally mix among 
 the group. We may form acquaintance with mea 
 of diftingaifhsd merit, wlio'n we ihDuld not other- 
 wife had aa opDrtaaity of knowing ; aud 
 
The Injluoxce of SoUtud^, 
 
 41 
 
 meet wi<h woiren cf eflimable qualities and ir- 
 reproachable Gonducc, v/hofe refined converfa'iou 
 ravifli'^s the mind with the fame delight that thtir 
 cxquilite beauty captivates the hearr. 
 
 But by what a number of painful fenfations 
 muft this chance of pleafures be purcha fed 1 He 
 whf m a filent forrow, a fecret difcontent, a ration- 
 al diipofition prevents frcm mixing in the commcn 
 difTipations of life, connot fee without a figh the 
 gay conceit, the airy confidence, the bhnd arro* 
 gance, and the bcli loquacity, with which thefe 
 votaries of worldly pleafures proclaim a felicity, 
 that lesds them, almcft inevitably, to their ruin. 
 
 It is, indeed, irrefutably laughable to obferve 
 the exceffive joy of fo many men in place, the ab- 
 furd airs of fo many old dowagers, the prefumptu- 
 ous and ridiculous fopperies of fo many hoary- 
 headed children ; but who, alas I is there, that will 
 not grow tired even cf the pleafantcft comedy, by 
 feeing it too frequently f He, therefore, who has 
 often been an eye-witnefs of thefe fcenes, who has 
 often yawned with fatigue in thefe temples of pleaf- 
 ure, and is convinced that they exhibit rather the 
 illufion and appearance than the fubicance and real- 
 ity of pl:afure, becomes fad and forrowful in the 
 m'dfl: of all their joys, and haftily retires to domef- 
 tic privacy, to taiie of pleafures in which there is 
 no deceit : pleafures, which have neither difquiet- 
 ude nor diffitisfaclion behind them. 
 
 An inviration to the board of Luxury, where 
 Difeafe with leaden fceptre is known to prefide, 
 where painful truths are blurted in the ears cf thofe 
 who hoped they were concealed, where reproach 
 and calumny fall without difcrimination on thebefi: 
 and worft of characters, is in the eftimation cf the 
 world, conceived to confer the highefl honor and 
 ^ the greatefl pleafure. But he who feels the divine 
 ' energies of the foul turns with abhorrence from thofe 
 focieties v/hich tead to dirainilh or impair their op» 
 
4?- 
 
 The lnfiucn:e of ^d'ltndc. 
 
 a-ations. To him thefnTipleR: fare, v/ith frcfcJoih' 
 ?.nJ content in (he boicm of an affectionate family, 
 is ten thoufand times more agreeable than the rareft 
 dainty and the rich eli wine, with a foci?fy where 
 fxolitenefs inipcfe.s a filcnt attention to fome vain 
 wit, from whofe l^ps nothing but fatiguing nonfenfe 
 ever proceeds. 
 
 C:nlic;ence unlimited, fentiments mutually in^- 
 terchanged and equaliy fiLcere, are the or.ly fc'urc-- 
 es from which the true pleafures of fociety can 
 fpring. The' fpiridefs and crowded affemblies of' 
 the world, where a round of low r.nd little pleafures 
 nils the hour of entertainment, and pride only af* 
 prlres to difpliy a pomp ofdr-fs and levity of behav- 
 ior, may perhaps afford a glimpfe of joy to fght- 
 and thcughtlds minds, eagerly impatient to remove 
 the weight which every vacant, hour accumulates. 
 Batmen of reafon andrcfl:cdon^who,in(l=adof fen»- 
 lible converlhtion, inftead of any rational amufement 
 fmd only a dull, unvaried jargon, a tirefome round 
 of compliments, ieel averfion from thefe tem- 
 ples of del" ght, and refort to thera with cclinels,. 
 diffatisfaclion, and difgiift. 
 
 How tirefome do 2 11 the pleafures of the world' 
 appear, when compared with t)ie happinv^fs of a 
 faithful, tender,, and enlightned friendfhip ! How 
 joyful do v/e fhake off" the fhackles of fociety for 
 that high and intimate connection of the foul, where 
 our inclinations are free, our feel'ngs genuine, our* 
 fentiments imhiafled ; where a mutual confidence 
 of thoughts and aedons, of pleafurt-s and of pains.^. 
 uninterruptedly prevails \ where the heart is led 
 with joy along the path of viiiue, and the mind- 
 conducled by happin fs into the bowers of truth ;. 
 where every thought is anticipated before it efcapeS' 
 from the lips ; wi^ere adv'ce, c^nfolation, fuccor^. 
 are reciprccally given and rec.-ived in idl the acci* 
 dents and misfortunes of lifr !. The foul, thus an- 
 imatt^d by the charm of fncn.fhip, (prings fr^m its 
 
The lufiuenct of S>olitid?* 4 ?? 
 
 loth and apathy, and \dews the irrAdi:^.ting beams 
 of hope breaking on its repofe. Cafling a retro- 
 ^pe<^"tive eye on the time th?.t has pafied, the happy 
 pair mutually exclaim with the tendereft emoiionf?, 
 O ! what pleaiures have we not ehead-y experi- 
 enced, what joys have we not ah'eady frit 1" Does 
 the tear of forrow lieal down the cheek of ihe one ? 
 the other with alieclion ' wipes it tenderly away, 
 Tne deepefl: forrov/s of the one are fek wrih equal 
 poignancy by the cthrr : but what forrow can re- 
 fift the confchtion which flows from an interccurle 
 of he?.rts fo tenderly, fo hitinxitely, fo ciofely uni- 
 ted f Day after d".y they ccmmunicate to each olier 
 all that they have'feen, all tiiat they have heard, r.Ii 
 that they fecl,and everything that tneyknow. Tinie 
 flies before them on his fwifteft pinions. The ear i& 
 never tired of thi gratifications of liKening to each 
 other's converfation. The only niisf rtnne of 
 which they have any fear, is the grcateft they can 
 poffibly experience, the misfortune of ablence, rep- 
 aration, and death. 
 
 PoiTefied of fuch refined felicity, it muft not b* 
 at:ributed to aufterity of character, or incivility of 
 manners, but i o a venial error of imagination, if the 
 iitercrurfes of ordinary minds no longer charm las.; 
 if we become infer lible to their indifference, and 
 C";reiefs of tkeir aveifion ; if, in confequence of t- e 
 fupmority of cur j Dys, we no l inger mix in the 
 noilV pleafurcs of the world, and fhuii all fociety 
 which has numbers only for it5^ recommend.vion. 
 
 But it is the lot of human blifs t3 be unftibl?. 
 Of:e:iti'nes, alas ! when we conceive cur enjoy- 
 ments mcft cc-rtain and fecure, an unforefeen and 
 fudden blow firikes, even in cur very arms the un- 
 happy victim of its fate. On fuch an event cdl the 
 pleafure of our Uves appears to be for an hour exlin- 
 guifhcd ; the fuiTv^unding objf ^Is feem defart and 
 forlorn ; every thing we behold excites terror and 
 difmay. The arms cf friendfaip are ia vaia extend- 
 
4<5 The Infuence of Solku:k, 
 
 ed to embnce (he friend that is no umre ; in vain 
 the ^oice of IbnJnefs articulates the beloved name» 
 '1 he Itepy the well-known ftep, fcems fuddenly to 
 fb-'.ke upon our litterjiiig ear ; hut refl-dion inter- 
 p.;fes, ?.nd the fancied lounds are heard no more 
 alHs hulhed, fiiil and lifelels : we are rendered al-* 
 mcR ir.lenfible of exHt^nce. Solitude appears on 
 everyfide, and the bleeding heart withdraws the at- 
 tention of the mind from every livii g; objed. The 
 wearied fpiri s, in the hour of dejection, perfuade 
 us that ai'Rct on is g ^ne, and that we are no longer 
 capable of lovif^g or of being beloved ; and to a heart 
 that has onc^ tailed the fympathies of lovj, li^e,, 
 withoui alTecftion, is d-ath the moft hcrrible.^ I'he 
 unfor innate being, tlierefore, who has experienced 
 this milery, is inclined to live in Sohtude and die 
 abn?. In theie rcfl.cting moments, in this fuddea 
 Iranfition irom the height of happinefs to the deep- 
 eti mifery noperfon feems anxious to cfFtr h'ln ths 
 fmalleft confclation, to participate in his fufierings, 
 or to becip:ble of formirg an adequate idea of his- 
 difci*efs : the grief, indeed, which luch a lofs inflicls, 
 cannot be conceived until it h i? b"::en felr. 
 
 It i^^, however, under chcumiiances like thefe 
 that Soiiiudeenj :ys its higheft triumph : it is here 
 tlht all the advantages w'dch refult from it maybe 
 fully experienced ; for alir<ftion h-is no wounds to 
 wiii'ch, when wilely appUed, it will not give imme- 
 di-ate eafe, and in the event c ranpleteiy cure. 
 
 Tne wounds of P.fll.clicn, ic is true, admit only 
 of a ilow and gradual remedy. The art of living 
 alone requires lb much initiation before it can be 
 acquired, is fubjecf to fneh a variety of accidents, 
 and depends fo much uponfituations fuitableto the. 
 h«nt of particular characters, that the mind muft 
 have attained an high degree of maturity tor Soli- 
 tude, betcre eilc(Sts ib c. nfiderahle and advanta- 
 geous gan be expected from it ; but he who has ac- 
 quiied fufficieut vigor to break the galUrg chains 
 
•fjrejudice, and from his earl'efl youth h;ig felt efleem 
 and fbndnefs for the pleafures of retiremenr, will 
 not, under fuch circumllances, be embarrafTed in his 
 choice. From the momsiit he perceives himfelf iu- 
 diilcreat to the objecls which fijrround him, and that 
 the gaieties of public fociety have left their charms, 
 he will then rely on the powers of his foul, and nev- 
 -tr be lefs ahme thin in the company cf himfelf. 
 
 Men of g3nius are frequently condemned to 
 employments as difagreeable to the temper of their 
 vminds as a naufeous medicine is to an empty llom- 
 ach. Forced to toil upon fame dry and difguiiing 
 'fmbj ad, confined to a particular fpot, and utterly 
 unable to nleafe themtclves from the trcublelbme 
 and impending yoke, fuch characlens feldom expect 
 tranquility on this fide of the grave ; for deprived 
 of the opportunities of engagir.g in the diiiipitiocs 
 of life, every object which the world prefents to 
 their view, encreafes their diiguft. It is not for 
 them, they exclaim, th^t the yaung zeph3^rs open 
 the budding foliage with their carciling breath; 
 that the feathered choir pour fc*th, in enlivening 
 ilraius, their rural fongs ; that odoriferous flowers 
 deck the e a ameiled meads. But leave thefe com- 
 plainants to themfelves, give th.em their liberty and 
 Jeifure, and you would foon obferve the native en- 
 -thufiafm of their minds regenerate, and fee them m 
 the higheft region foarng with the bold wing and 
 penetrating eye of the^bird of Jove. 
 \ If Solitude be capable of dillipating griefs of 
 ' this com.plexioD, what elTe£t will it net produce on 
 the minds of men who have the opportunity of re- 
 tiring at pleafure to its friendly fhades, who onlv 
 
 - feck for the enjoyments of a pure air, and whole 
 only defire is domeflic felicity ! When Antifthene^i 
 
 - was afked, what fervice he had received from phi- 
 lofophy, he anfwered, " It has taught me to fubdue 
 myielf?* Pope fays that he never laid b is head upon 
 14s pillow without refl;iting5 ^hat the nicH impor- 
 
45 Influence of $oIkui^' 
 
 tant leffon of life was to learn the art of being hap- 
 py within hiaifelf. I: feems to me that all thofe who 
 are capable of liviog contentedly at home, and of 
 loving every obje(5l by which they are furrounded, 
 even to the dog and the cat, have found what Pope 
 looked for. 
 
 Thcfe pleafures and diffipations which are 
 fought after with fo much eagfraefs and anxiety, 
 have, in truth, the effecl of producing the molt le- 
 rious refle6t':on in our minds, wnen we conimune 
 with ourfel'v/cs^ It is then that we learn in what the 
 true felicity of life prpperly confift, whether in the 
 pofTeflion of thofe external objects which we have 
 no power either to aiter or reform, or in a due and 
 proper regulation of ourfelves. It is then that wc 
 begin to perceive how falfe and .faithlefs thcfe flat- 
 tering illufions prove, which feem to promife us fo 
 much happinels. A lady, pcfTeffed of 3^ouih and 
 beauty, wrote to me ore veuiog oq returning from 
 » a celebrated ridotto, " You obferved with what 
 gaiety and content 1 quitted the fcene. Believe me, 
 1 felt a void fo painful in my breaft at the light of I 
 thofe fic^:itious jrys, that I could willingly have torn 
 the flowery decorations from my drefs." 
 
 All the pleafures of the world are nothing, if 
 they do not render the heart more happy in itfelf, 
 and tend to Increafe our domeftic felicity. On the 
 contrary, evay fpecies of misfortune, however ac- 
 cumulated, may be borne by thofe who are capable 
 of enjoying the privacy of ftudy, and the elegant 
 recreation which books afford. To have obtained 
 this refcurce, is already to have made confiderable 
 advances towards happinefs ; for it would be pre- 
 fumptuous to exafl more from us than an inclina* 
 tion to regulate the afFr^ions of the heart, and to 
 controul the pafTi^ns of the mind. A celebrated 
 philofoph^r, therefore has with great judgment ob- 
 ferved, that th;re is both pride and falfehood in pre- 
 fc-adirg that maa alone is capable of effeding his 
 
Injfuenoe of Solitude* 
 
 4^ 
 
 ctvn happ'nefs. We are, however, mofx certainly 
 capable of modifying the nat ural difpofitions of our 
 fouls ; v/e are capable of forming our taftes, vary- 
 ing cur fentinTicnts, direding our inclinations, of 
 fubduing even th? paiTions themfelves ; and we are 
 then not only lefs fenfible of all the wants of life, 
 but feel even fatls faction under circumftanccs which 
 to others would appscir grievous and intolerable. 
 Health is, without d:ubt, one of the moft precious 
 enj yments man cau p fiefs ; and yet there are cir- 
 camiianciS and fituations, under which even the 
 privation of it may be accompanied with real tran- 
 quility. How many times have I returned my 
 thanks to the Great Difpofer of human events for 
 an indifpofition which has confined me at home, and 
 enabled me to invigorate tre weakened functions of 
 my foul in quietude a,nd filence ! an happinefs that 
 receded a-s my indifpofition quitted me. After hav- 
 ing been obhged to drag tlirough the ftreets of the 
 metropolis every day of my life during a number 
 of years with a feeble conflitution and weakened 
 limbs, fufceptible, on feeling the fmallefl: col l, to the 
 (ame fenfations as if knives were icparating the flefh 
 from the bone ; after exp^ncing day after day, 
 in the c-urfe cf my prcfeirno, forrows fo arliicling, 
 that I offered up the gratitude of my heart with tears 
 of joy, when it pleaied the Almighty to afford me 
 a moment of eafe and quietude ; it will not be won- 
 dered that any indifpofition which cccafioned my 
 CDufinement fnculd afford me inexpreffible happinefs. 
 
 The phyfician who pollefirs the leaflfennbility, 
 being continually emiployed m adininiffering relief 
 to the fuifcrings of others, muft, without doubt, 
 frequently forget his own ; but aks ! how often 
 alfo m.ufh he feel the horror of his fituation, where 
 he is fummoned to exercife a power not within the 
 reach of his art, and is obliged to attend, notwitli- 
 ftanding all the bodily and m.ental anguifn he may 
 pcrfocly feel. Und;r fuch cir-cumftaixes, the dif- 
 
50 The Infiucncc -of ^oUtude* 
 
 eafe which relieves the mind from the dlflradron of 
 anxiety, is to me a foft repofe, a pbafir.g Solitude, 
 provided pecvifh friends do not intrude, and politely 
 difturb me v/ith their fauguiiig vifits. In thefe mo- 
 ments I pray the benediction of Heaven on thcfe 
 v/ho negleft to cvervvhelm me with their idle con- 
 verfation, and, with the kindefl compafiion, forget 
 to difhurb me by inquiries iifter my health. A iin- 
 gle day in which 1 caa re-?in quielly at home, 
 without being obliged to receive a vifitor, and em- 
 ploy my mind on hierary lubje61s,p.iicrds me, not- 
 withftanding my -M^dily paui, more real pleafure ^- 
 than our women of qual ty mid n .en of fafhlon ever 
 felt from all tneir feai^ings an eateriaiaments. 
 
 The dimir^ution which our fufferings experience 
 in Sol'tude, is in itfdf a confiderable advan'.age ; for 
 quietude of mind to m.en whofe duties d pend on 
 the public voice, from whom an indefatigable ac- 
 tivity is exafted, and wh ^ unavoidably pafs their 
 days in themidft of ccn.iaued anxieties, is in eik(51 
 tranfcendent fehcity. 
 
 The mind, whether of the young or c f the old, 
 no longer feels the fear of being alone when it is ca- 
 pable of occupying itf^lf in privacy cn fome ufeful 
 or agreeable lubjecL. 
 
 If the temper fhould be foured by ill humor, 
 we fhculd endeivor to create a diverikn of the 
 mind by reading with fome fixed ar.d particular dc- 
 fign ; and it is impollible to read without derivi':g 
 ■fome advantage, provided Vv^e have a pen or pencil 
 ready to mark the nev/ ideas as they occur, or the 
 obfervations which illufirate and confirm ihcfe we 
 already polTefs ; for unlefs we apply what we learn- 
 to our own difpofitions, c r the characters of other 
 men, f udy of every kind foon becom.es fatiguing : 
 exercife, however, will eaf4y lead to this habit, and 
 then reading is perhaps one of the moft fure and 
 certain remedies againfl lalTitude and difccntent. 
 
 The mind having once acquired the habit of fix-* 
 
Tk Influence of SoUtticIe. 51 
 
 ing its attention, is always capable of driving away 
 nnpleafnnt and painful ideas. The fight of a nobl^ 
 and interefiing obje<5]:,the ftudy of an ufeful f-isrcCy 
 a pidure in which the various revrlutiors of fxicty 
 are hiftorickdly difphyed, and the progn-fs made \\\ 
 any particular arr, iigreeably rivet attention , and 
 banifii the forrows of the mind. 
 
 Pleaftires of this defcription, it is certain, great- 
 ly tranfcend all thofe which adminifter merely to the 
 fenfes. I am aw.ire, that in fp'ipkir.g of the pleaf- 
 ures of the mind, fublime meditation, the uroFound 
 deductions of reafon, and the briliiaat efrufions of 
 fancy are in general UT:derilocd ; but there Lire aifo 
 others, for the perfect enjoyment of wh'ch neither 
 extenfive knowledge nor ex'ra^rwiin-^iry t.dents are 
 neceffary. Thefe are the pleafures which refult from 
 aftivity and employmei:t ; plrafurfs that are eq; al- 
 ly within the reach of tiie i/:nor nt clown or le-^roed 
 p iiofrpher, and which pro'hice e:^joyinents no lefs 
 exquifite than thcfe we firfl mentioned : the exer- 
 tion of manuallabour, theref-^-r:^, ought never to be 
 defp^fed. I am acq iainte ' wi- h geiitU^men who are 
 initri)6^:e .l in ths mechanifm of their own v/atches ; 
 who are able to work as painters, bckfmiths, car- 
 penters ; and who are not only furnifh^d with al- 
 mofl ail the tools proper t:> every brr.nch of trade^ 
 but k'^ow alio how to ufe th.:m : fuch charaft-rs 
 never fed tke lead difquietude from *he want of fo- 
 ciety, and are in c'^'nf':^quence ti'.e h>ipp'efi: of men. 
 
 The labors we €x':;enence in any art or fcience- 
 form the recreation cf it ; an:^, when carried to a 
 certain d gree of perf^<Pdon, render man foci d with 
 himfelf, nnd cou :.terbal-ince the r<reatett cf m :ral 
 evds. To conquer difficulties is to promote our.' 
 plrafures ; and every time cur eiforts attiii : 10 a 
 Cj^rtaia point, from whence we caii view with com- 
 placency the end of clir labors, the frul feeis an in- 
 cxprefiibla tranquilitv and fuisfi^lion, and, beicg- 
 contented withia itftlf^ fceksiforno higher pleafure. 
 
52 The Injlumce of Solitude* 
 
 T\\e. enjoyments of the heait are within the 
 reach of all men who, fres, eaf}^, and alleetionate, 
 iire contented v/ith theraielves, and pitaled W'iih^ ; 
 thofe about them. Al:is ! how much fuperior/ j 
 therefore, for this reaion, is the happinefs which a i 
 country life affords, to that deceitful fel'city which ! 
 is aiiecied in the courts of princes, and in the brl- 
 liant circles of the g- eat and gay ; a truth frvercly j 
 felt by men of worldly pleafure, and ccnfeffed by 
 xheir frequent complaints of reftleffnefs and languor; 
 complaints unknown among rhe vailies of the Alps, 
 cr upon thcfa mountains where innocence yet dwells, 
 and which no vifitor ever quitted without the trib- 
 ute of a tear. 
 
 The fatal poifon, however, which lurks beneath 
 the manners of luxurious cities might eafiiy be a- 
 voided, by renouncirg the infipid life in which the 
 inhabitants are engaged. Virtuous anions convey 
 tranquiliiy to the ibul ; and a joy equally calm and 
 permanent- accompanies the man into the clofifl rc- 
 cefTes cf retirem.ent, whcfe rr.ind is fixe:! upon dif- 
 charging the duti.s of humanity. \Vi h what de- 
 light aifo do we dwell upon tlie recital of cur fchocl 
 adventures, the wanton tricks cf our youth. The 
 hift:>ry cftr^e early pericds of cur lives, the remem- 
 brance of our pl'iys and partim-^s, cf the little pains 
 aud puerik wiihes cf our infanry, always, recall to 
 cur minds the moii: agreeable ideas. Ah ! with 
 what complacent fmile'=, v^dth what Ibft regret a ven- 
 arable- eld man turns his eyes upon the happy rcra 
 when the incarnation of youth animaled all his j jys, 
 when h,^ entered into every enterprize vvitli vigour, 
 viv;:ci:y, and courage, when he fought difficulties 
 only to difpl ly his powers in furmounting them ! 
 
 Let us contrail the character we formerly here 
 v/ith that which W'e a<: preftnt p, fiefs : or, by giv- 
 ing a free range to our iJeas, let us rather c?fl our 
 thoughts upon the various events of which we havs 
 been v. itndies upon th^ mear.s which the Alraigh- 
 
T7}e Influence of Solitude, 55 
 
 ty has thought proper to employ in the exaltation 
 or debalement of eiripiras, upon the rapid progrefs 
 which the arts and lcie::ces have made within our 
 own remeinVrance, upon the ar^vancement of philof- 
 ophy and the retreat of prejudice, upon the afcen- 
 dency which itrncnmce and fuperft'tion ftill main- 
 tain, notwithftanding the fublime efforts of genius 
 to fupprefs them, upon the bri ;ht iiradiations of in- 
 telleA, and the moral depravation of the heart, and 
 we (hall foon perceive the clouds of languor diictp- 
 pear, and tranquility, peace, and good humor pre-^ 
 vail. 
 
 The inexpreffible felicity, that variety of de- 
 lightful enjoyments, fo fuperior to the gratifications 
 of fenfe, which S ditude affords to every reffs^lin^ 
 mind, are capable of being relifhed at every period 
 of cur lives ; in the laft decay of age as well as in 
 the earlieft prime of youth. He v/ho to a vigorous 
 cocftitution, a free fpirit, an eafy temper, has add- 
 ed the advantages of a cultivated underftanding, will 
 here experience, while his heart continues pure and 
 his mind innocent, the highepL and mofl: unalterable 
 pleafure. The love of exercife animates all the fac- 
 ulties of the foul, and increaf rs the energies of na- 
 ture. Employment is the firlt defire of every aftive 
 mind. It is the filent confcicufnefs of the fupericri- 
 ty of our nature, of the force of our intelleftual 
 powers, of the high digr.ity of our character, which 
 infpire great fouls with that noble ardor v/hich car- 
 ries them to the true fubUme. Conftrained by the 
 duties of their fituation to mix in the intercourfes of 
 fociety ; obliged to I'ubmit, in fpite of their inclina- 
 tion, to the frivolous and faiiguing diflipations of the 
 world, it is in withdrawing from thefe tumultuous 
 fcenes into the filence of m.editation^ that men be- 
 come fenfible of the divine effervefcence of their 
 fouls ; feel a wifh to break their chains, to efcape 
 from the fervility of pleaiure, and from all the noify 
 and tumultuous joys in which they are engaged. 
 
54 Irfuencc of Solitude, 
 
 We never feel with higher energy and fatisfadion, 
 with greater comfort and ccrdiality, ihat we hve, 
 think, are s^ealbnable beings, feif-a6t'.ve.^free, capable ■ 
 of the niod fubhme exertior.s, and partaking cf im- 
 mortality, than in thcfe moments when wt Ihnt the 
 door agaiuft the intruhons of impertinence and fafn- 
 ion. 
 
 There are few vexations fo infuppcr table as 
 thofe taftelefs yifits, thofe annoying partialities, by 
 which a life of lazy opulence and wanton pleafare 
 is occupied. " My thcughts," fays Rouileaiv, " will 
 oriy c :iiie when they pleafe, and not when I cho?fe.'* 
 Obliged, therefore,, to vv;ut for thdr arrival, the in- 
 trufion of a " ranger, or even the vifit of an acqu^dnt- 
 ance by wh m he was not intmiat-ly known, was 
 s.lways dreadful to him. It was lor this reaica 
 iilone, that t!:is extraorrlinary ch^r^Oc-r^ who feldrm 
 experienced an hour of tranquility unaccompanied 
 by pain, felt fuc^^ petulent indignation againil the 
 importunate civilities and em.pty compliments of 
 common conv Tlation, while he enjoyed the ration- 
 al intercourfe of (enfible and well informed minds 
 Vvith the higheft delighr .* 
 
 How foon,al - s! the dignityof thehuman charac- 
 ter becomes debafeJ by affociating with low and lit- 
 tle minds ! How many rayc of thought, precicus 
 rays 5 emanating immediately fi-om the Deity upon 
 (he mind of man, are extingnifhed by the nox'cus 
 vapours cf ftagnated life ! But it is meditation and 
 reflection that mufc give them birth, elevate them to 
 the heights of geniuf-v^ake them fubfiflent with the 
 nature of the human mind, and conformable to the 
 Ipirit of the human chara<fter, 
 
 Vir'ues to which the foul caotiot raife itfelf, 
 even in the moft amiable of all focieties, ar^ Ire- 
 
 * ** I never couii cnduie," fays Rouffeau, " the empty and un- 
 meaning complinjcnts of common converfation j but from converfa- 
 tions ufeful or ingenious, I have alwajs felt the higheft pkalorC; ani 
 \kave ncrer refefed to raj^ake cf thecn»" 
 
The Influence cf Solitudes 55 
 
 ^.uently produced by Solitude. Separated by dif- 
 tance from ur fii nds, we feel currelves deprived 
 of the eomp'^ny of thjfe who' are deareft to our 
 hearis ; and. to relieve tha dreary void, we afpire 
 to tHe moft fubli.iie efforts, and adopt the bcldeit 
 rcfolutions. On the contr -irv, w:.ile we are under 
 the pr()te£lln.e care of frienc'iliip and of love, while 
 thi€ir kind offices fupply all our w^.nts, and their 
 affectionate embraces lock us eternally in their arms^ 
 we f orget, in the bLi'^dirnmcnts of fuch a ilate, 
 almoil t'le faculty cf felf-motion, lofe fight cf the 
 powers cf acting from ourltlves, and feldom rcflcd 
 that we may be reduced to the neceility cf fuppcrt- 
 ing ourfelves under the adverfides of life. To grrard 
 2.gainft this eve n,, therefore, it is proper, by retir- 
 ing into Solitude, to experience and rely upon the 
 ftrength of our own powers. The foul, wtake^.ed 
 by the fto: ms of life, then acquires new vigor, fixeS: 
 the iteady eye of fortitude on t;ie frowns of aiver- 
 fity, and learns to elude the threatening rocks on 
 which the happinefs of vulgar minds fo frequently 
 is wrecked. He who devotes his days to Sclitudey 
 finds refources within himfelf of which he had no 
 idea, while p -ilofophy infpires him wiih courage to 
 fuiiain the moff rigorous fhocks of fate. 
 
 The difpofition of man becorr.es more firm, bin 
 opinions more determined and correcSt, when, urged 
 by the tumults of life, he refle£^s, in the quietude 
 of his heart, on his own nature and the manners 
 of tlie world. The conuitution cf a verf^.tile and 
 undecided ch.iracl^r prco eds entirely from that in- 
 tellecluai weaknefs which prevents the mind from 
 thinking for iiitlf. Such char:<ft-rs conuilt upon 
 every cccafnn the oracle cf public opinion, fo infal-- 
 lible in their ideas, before they know what they 
 ^ ought to thiidc, or m wh.ar man:.-^er their judgment 
 .ffiould be formed, cr their conduei: regulated. 
 
 Weak minds alwavs conceive it mofi fafe (0 
 ^dopt the fentiments ot the ra.ultitude. The}^ nerer 
 
^6 The Inf iicnce of Bolitude. 
 
 venture an opinion upon any fubje£l until the major- 
 ity have decided. 'J'hefe decilions, whether upon 
 men or things, they i^^plicitly foUow, without giv- 
 ing themfelv-^^s the trouble to inquire who is right,, 
 cr on which fide the truth lies. The fp'rit of truth 
 2nd 1 -veof equity, indeed, are Oulv to be expefted 
 from thofe wh .« are fearlefs of hving alone. Men 
 of difTipated minds are nev..r the prote<fi:ors of the 
 w^e^.k, or the zvengers of the opprelTed. Are the 
 various and powerful hofls of fools and knaves your 
 en .-mies ? Are you injured in your property by in- 
 juilice, or in ycur fame by calumny ? You muft not 
 hope for redrefs from light characfters, or for fup. 
 port from men of diilipation ; for they only repeat 
 the v ice of error, and propagate the fallacies of 
 prejudice. 
 
 To live in Solitude, to feel fiuvfelves alone,, 
 cnly inipires fear, inafmuch as it contributes to ex-^ 
 tinguifh one corporeal power by giving birth to 
 a iother. The powers of the mind, on the contra- 
 ry, u!:igument in proportion as they become more 
 concentrated, v/hen 'lo perfon is united to us, or 
 ready to afford proteftijn. 'I'o live undiliurbed, 
 to mitigate the fulfering of prefent imprefficns, to 
 rend T mind fuperior to the accidents of hfe, and 
 to gain fufficient intrepidity to oppofe the danger of 
 advernty, it is rolblutely neceflary to live aione. 
 How fnoo':hly il.)ws the ftream of life when we 
 have no anxiety to inquire *' Who did this V* 
 '"Who laid t rat f** How many mi ferable prejudices, 
 and ftiil more contemptible pp.ilions, has one lerious 
 reiie<Sl:ion fubdued \ How quickly, in fuch a fitua- 
 tion, thit il wiih, fhameful, and idolatrous venera- 
 tion for every iinworrhy oV]t^ difappears ! With 
 what noble fpirlt the votary of Solitude fearlefsly 
 difdains thofe chara£lers who conceive that high 
 birth and illuftrious delcent confer a privilege to ty- 
 rannize over inferior men, to whom they frequently 
 afford fo many reafons to held them m contempt. 
 
Tl)e Influence of Soiitml:. 57 
 
 An ingenious and celebrated obfervrr of mea 
 and things informs us, it is in leifureand retirement 
 alone, th.it the foul exalts itfeir into a fubliirt.e iu- 
 penoriiy over, the accidents of life, becomes indif- 
 ferent to the good or evil it may experience, the 
 p:-aife or cenfure it mav receive, the life it may en- 
 joy, cr even the death it may fuifer. — It is in Soli- 
 tude alone that thcfe noble and rv:li:jed ideas, thole 
 profjund principles and unerring ?xioms, which 
 form and fupp-rt every great charafter, are devel- 
 oped. Evei:: p:ibfophy itielf, continues this excel- 
 lent phil fcpher in his obfervaticns upon Cicero, 
 and ihofe d^ep theories upon which the fublima 
 conduct of the Ibatefinan is founded, ana which en- 
 ables him to perform with excellence the ia:portaiit 
 duties with which he is charged^ are formeil iu the 
 filenceof S:li ude, in Ibmedircuct reti.ement from 
 the great theatre of tha world. 
 
 As Solitude, therefore, not only gives firmnefs 
 to the characbers, and propriety to the fentiirents, 
 of men, but leads the mind to a true degree of ele- 
 vation ; fo I'.kewife there is no ciher fituatlon iii 
 which we fo foon acquire the important knowledge 
 of curfelvcs. 
 
 Retirement connffts us more clofely Vv-ith cur 
 orm bofjm^, and we livf in habits of the iiri£l?fc 
 intimacy cr-ly with ciurfelves. It is certaicly polli- 
 ble f:r men to bo delibere^te and v/ife, even amid 
 all the tumultG of the world, efr^cially if their prin- 
 ciples be v/eh fixed before they e^ter on the flage of 
 life ; but it ism.uch more diflicult to prefer ve ao 112- 
 tegr'ity of conducTt amidf: tne corruptions of Ibci^ty 
 than in the fimplicit3'- of 8 'litudo. Hl w many mea 
 pleafe cniy by their faults, and reccnnnend rhem- 
 lelves only by their vices ! How many profligate 
 villair.s and iinpriicipled adventurers, of inhnuating^ 
 ma-aners, are well received by ibciety, only becauic 
 tr.ey have learoed the art of /cidminifcering to the 
 folfe?, the we'Akiiefles,, the vices of thofs who give 
 
5 S Tf:e Influence of Solitude, | 
 
 the lead to fafhloa 1 How is it poflible (hit the mind, 
 intoxicated with the fumes of that incenfe which 
 Flattery burns to its honor, Ttiould be capable of | 
 knowing or appreciatirg the^ charates of men ! 
 But, on the contrary, in the iilsnce and tranquillity 
 of retirement, whe her we are led by inclination to 
 the iiudy of curlelves, awakened to refle61:i.':n by 
 a fenfe of mifery, or compelled to think ierioufly 
 en ourfitu'ition, and to examine the inward com- 
 plexion of the heart, v/e can leara what we are, and 
 what we ought to be. 
 
 How many new and ufefal difcoveries may be 
 made by cccafi ;naily forcing ourfelves from the vor- 
 tex of the world to the calm enjoyments of fcudy 
 and reflectlcn ? To acccmplifh this end, it is only 
 neceilary to commune ferioully with our hear; s, 
 and to examine our condu(fi: with candor and im- 
 partiality, I'he man of worldly pleafure, indeed, 
 has reafon to (bun this felf examination, confcinus 
 that the r-fult^ of the inquiry would be extremely 
 unfavorc^ble : fjVhe who only judges of himfeif by 
 the flatterirg opinion which others have been pleat- 
 ed to exprefs of his ch?r;^6ler, will in fach a fcrutiny 
 behold with furprz^, that he is the mift-ral.le flave 
 of fafhion, habit, and public cpinion, fubmitt'.ng 
 with laborious diligence, and the utmoft pofTible 
 grace, to the exr:6i:lc ns rf pi Rtenefs, and theau.hcr- 
 itative demands of ellabhfliei ceremony ; never ven- 
 turing <-o C3 :trad'ft theimp^riou, voice of f .fhion, 
 howcvcr i'-nfeiels and abfurd its dilates may appear; 
 obfequioufiy following the example cf others, giv- 
 ing credit to every thirg they f:^y, doirg every thing 
 they do, and rot daring to ccniemn tncfe purfuits 
 which every one feems fo highly to approve. If 
 fuch a chara6l r pofT. fs that de cree cf candor he 
 ought, he will not only perceive, but acknowl '-dge, 
 that an infinite nuT^ber of his daily thcughts and ac- 
 tions are info' red by a bafe fear of himfjl^\ or arife 
 from a^crviis complaifance to others j that in the 
 
The Influence cf Sdliitide* 
 
 company r,f princes anci ftateiinen he only feeks to 
 flatter th:ir vaaiiies, and indulge thsir caprices; 
 that by his devotion to polltcners, he fu'omits to be- 
 come the miniP.er of tneir vices, rath:r than ciFsr 
 them thr, fmalir::'. con 'r?.d-clion, or hazard an opin- 
 ion that is I' kely t3 ^^ive them the leaft difpieariire. 
 Whoever w.th calm couiideratior:. views th's terrify- 
 ing plclure, w-11 feel ia th? iilenc emotions cf his 
 heart the nec-ility of occafionally retiring i.ito Sol- 
 itu-'e, andfeeking fociety with m^n of nobler feati- 
 ments and purer principles. ^ . 
 
 The violent alternatives cf pleafure and pain, 
 of hope and fear, of content and mortiii'- iition, in- 
 ceflantly torment the mi ad that has not courage to 
 rife fupericr to tiie influence of the objecls of fenfe. 
 llie virtues fly from the habitation of an hearc tr.at 
 yields itfelf to firil impreifions, of an heart that is for 
 ever obedient to the feelings of the moment, and 
 incapable of exerting a dominion ever them. The 
 virtues alfo ceafe to dwell in the bofonis of the 
 wcrldly, who, f Ibwingthe exa'ijple of the times, 
 are guided in all their actions by ficiLler motives, 
 and d'.re£i:=d to every end by the mean conlideration 
 of ielf-interefl either immediate cr remote. To ex- 
 erdfe even virtue i' felf with advantage and efTcft, 
 it is ueceffary to retire into Solitude ; to avoid the 
 impediments which the accidents of the p-iifling day 
 may create ; to e3:imate, by filent examination, the 
 true value of things, andthere:d m^rit of human 
 a<51:iaas. Tha mind, debafei by the corruptioas of 
 the w )rld, has no idea of reUnquifhing the pr . fped 
 of prefent benefit, and making a noble facrifice of 
 glory and of fortune. Th^y never appreciate any 
 action by its intrinfic merit ; but condud all their 
 cdculations upon a vile notion of lu:re, a^.d only 
 affume the garb of virtue as a mean of fnatching 
 ibme poor adva^itage, obtaining fome paltry honors, 
 or gaining fome ferviceable credit : to thoie who, 
 from th$ir pov/er and fuperiority, mighty if they 
 
6o The hjiucnce of Solitiuk. 
 
 were equally bafe anJ cor.temptible, prejudice their 
 intermits, they pay a fl:rvilo court, flatter, lie, cal- 
 umniate, and cringe, and depart only to commit 
 new bafenels elfewhere. 
 
 Man difcovers with deeper penetration the ex- 
 tent and natur'e of the paiTions by which he is 
 fwayed, when he n^fle^ts cn their power in the calm- 
 nefs and filence ct' Solitude, v^here the foul, being 
 lefs frequently fufpended between hope and rear, 
 ads with greater freedom. How virtuous, alas ! 
 do we all become under the preiTure of calamity 1 
 How fubmliiive, ho V/ indulgent, how kind is man, 
 when 'he iinger of God chaflifes his fraihies, by 
 Tendering his hopes deluuva, and his fchemes abor- 
 tive ; when the Almighty Pov/er humbles human 
 pride, converts our v/:fdomi into follyjour profound- 
 efc cou^fels into nTAnifefl and ilrikinr^ initances of 
 madnefs ! At Inch a moment the carefles of a child, 
 the moft diftant civility from inferiors, afford us 
 the higheil comfort. The fcene, however, prefsnt- 
 ly changes ; we vievv misfortune u^.der a different 
 afp-(f}:,cur foftnefs d'es a\vay,our fufferir.gs decreafe, 
 the foul begins to rife from its dejedion, vre acquire 
 a knowledge of ii^s faculties, become indifferent to 
 every external objc d, and, feeling the extent of its 
 powers, difcover our fuperi -^rity over all rriofe cir- 
 cum^'lances v/hich be-^ore gave inquietude to fear, 
 and alarm to v/eakneis. 
 
 Sheltered in the retreats of Sohtude from the 
 extremes cf fortune, and lefs exp- fed to the intoxi- 
 cadcn of fuccrfs, or the depreffi in of ddappoint- 
 jr.ent, bfe f};lide3 eafiiy along 1 ke the fhadcw of a 
 paffiag cloud. Adverfity need not here intrude, to 
 teach us how infgnificant we rre in the eyes of 
 God, how helpk-fs without his affifiance, how much 
 cur unchecked pride poitbns the happinefs cf life, 
 torments the h -art, and becomes the endlefs and 
 increafiiig fourc^ cf human mifer^^ : for in theealm 
 regior.s -C'f retiremeatj -undiuurb^^d by treacherous 
 
The hjiuencc of Sclitude, 6 1 
 
 f^ndnefs, or groundlcfs hate, if even hope fhould 
 dilappear, and every comfort- va^iiili from our view^, 
 \7- are ill capable of ru'/.m^tnag to the llroke of 
 tUte wi-h p?tlence ar.d religT^atio'-^ 
 
 Let ev-ry one, thtrefcre, wlio wifhes to think 
 with dig.iity, or live with eafe, feek the retreats of 
 Solitade, and eater into friendly intercourfe with 
 his own h-''art. How fmall a portion of true ph:l- 
 cibphy, with an enlightened under-landing, will ren- 
 der us humble and compliant ? But in the mil^s of 
 prvjuiice, dazzled by the intell:ci:uil glimmer of 
 tV.Ue lights, every one mif-akes the true path, and 
 fseks for happi'isfsin the (hades of darknefs and the 
 labyrinths cf cbfcurity. The habits of re'irement 
 and tranquillity can alone enable us to make a juft 
 eilimate of m.-n and th"ngs, and it is by renouncing 
 ;dl the prep.^ffdiicns \^ hich the corruptions of fociety 
 have iinplanted in the mind, that vv^e make the firft 
 
 ; advances towards the r^ilorition of reafon, and 
 
 t the attainment of felirity. 
 
 Solitude will aiibrd us this advantage, if when 
 we are there alo':e before God, and far retired 
 from the obfervauon of men, the filsizt language of 
 confcie^ce Ciev/s to us the great imperfedion of cur 
 chara&rs, and the many citnculties we have to 
 fiirmount before we c:in attain the e^^cellecc^ of 
 w^iich cur nature is c ipable. In fodety men mu- 
 tualiy deceive e.ich ot'ier : they make a parade of 
 learning, affect fentiments which t <ty do not poliefs^ 
 dazzh t'le obfervcr by borrowed rays, and in the 
 end miflead themf^lves b^rhe iihifl'3ns which th^y 
 raiic. But in Sohtude, far removed from the guile 
 of (l;ittery and fallh-od, acc-)ir.panied by truth and 
 followed by virtue, the mind enters into a clofe ac- 
 quaintance with itkrif. forms its^u.lgmeni with great- 
 er accuracy, and feels t'-^e inefdmahle value of fm- • 
 centy and fmglenefs of heart. Here the p:iieirion 
 of thefe quali'jes can never prove injurious ; for i;i 
 th^ retreats of Soliiude, moral excsilencs is not aa 
 
6 1 The Lijiuence of SoUluck, 
 
 object of either ridicule or cort^mpt. We here 
 compare the falfe appearances of the world wi*h ths 
 reality of things, and perceive the advcnt/g'TS they 
 feomeJ toprcmife, ?,.:d the fpccioiiS virtues hey ap- 
 peared to pcilels, vaniili lize a-ry Y?r^::\r. l'i:e 
 pride cf human wit, the iaile ro-cliiii ^hr?, 
 themidakes of vjinity, and tlm w-ak n oi'the 
 heart, are devvlcp^d to r:;;e eye of impartiality. 
 All that is imperfeft in our fiireft virtu -s, in our 
 luolimefc conceptions, in oi:-r molt generous : £i::ons, 
 ?dl the cltentations of felf-bve, ^-re here exh ibited 
 ini heir namral forms, is it Doili'jie toacquTeib 
 perfeft a kn .-^wle 'ge cf ou'-.r 1. ,- : in the world, a- 
 midi!: the biiijde of r-ann-ds, aad among the increa- 
 fmg da:ap;ers cf facial hfe ? | 
 To iubduethe dangerous pafli:^-n5 and pernicions ' 
 iaclinaticns whica agitate and m ilead ihe hearr, it 
 is neceffary to -lix t le artmtion on other ohjecls, 
 and turn oar aitarhments to more laudable pur- 
 fuits ; but Sohtude is the only fituation ii which 
 new fentiments and new i 'eas, ariling from inex- 
 liauftible r-.-fources^ infril ti^t-mleives into the mind : 
 here the foul a£ls wi h perfect freedom in every 
 dire£lion, and exerts all the force and energy of 
 which it is iuf:eptible. And as Solitude to the idle 
 may mitigate the i' temn: ranee cf defire ; fa, ca 
 the contrary, to the aaive it afiv^rds a complete 
 vi61:ory over all the moil irregular in;friations cf 
 the heart. 
 
 Snatched from theiriufions cf fcciety, from the 
 fnares of the wcrld, and pl::red in ihe fecurity of 
 retirement, we viev/ ev-ry of^-.ct in its true form, 
 as well under the diflracrions of m'']f"— nne, as in 
 the pangs of ficknefs and in the : f death. 
 
 The vanity and emptintis of all tn _a ^ : h^antages 
 ■which we exped from external cbjects, I'jpear ia 
 full view, and we difcover the necoffity cf curbing 
 the extravagance cf our thoughts, and ihe licen- 
 tiou&ef§ gt Qvs deOres* I'ae veil of falfe appear- 
 
The InJIiience of Solitude* 63 
 
 nnce is r3:r.oved ; and he who in the worlil \Tas 
 railed as much above ethers, as by his faults and 
 vices iie ought to have fuak beneath the?n, here 
 perceives the iniperfeftrrns which flattery had con-- 
 ce'iied, and which a crowd of miferable flaves had 
 perhaps the baieneis and ccwariice entirely to jai- 
 tify. " . ^ ^ 
 
 To acquire durable plr/rfiirrs and true feix'ty,. 
 it is neceilary to adopt the judicicns and r3no!:al 
 philoibphy which conliders life in a ferious point cf 
 view, courts enjoyments- which neither time nor ac- 
 cident can deftroy, and looks with an eye cf pity 
 on the rjupid vulg..ir, agitating their n^inds and ror- 
 menting their hearts in fplendid miieries and cidld- 
 ifh converfations. Thcfe how^cver, on the contra- 
 ry, who have no knowle-lge of their own heans, 
 w^ho have no haiyits of refltction, no. means cf em- 
 ployment, w^':o have not perfevered in virtr.e, nor 
 are a':la to hiilen to the voice cf rcafon, have noth- 
 ing to hcp2 from S--l'tude : their joys ?.re all anni- 
 hikted wiien the blood has 1 .ft its warnnh, whrrj 
 the fenfes are blunted, and their powers diminiflied : 
 on exp?ricnc:r..fj the ieafl: inconvenience, the moft 
 irifiii-ig reverfe of fortun-r', they fall into the decpefi: 
 dilirrfs, the moft horrid ideas fill the^r minds, aiid 
 they are tormented wilh ail the agitations cf au 
 alarmed imagination. 
 
 We have hitherto only pointed out one portion 
 cf the general advantages of Sclitude ; there are,^ 
 liowever, many others which touch men more near, 
 ly. Ah ! wh ■) has not experienced its kind influ- 
 ence in the adverfr ies cf hfe ? Who has not in tha 
 moment cf convalc-fcence, in the hour of mehr.cho- 
 ly, in the ag3 when feparation or d rath has depri- 
 ved the heart ef the intercourles of friendfhip, fought 
 relief under its ibiutary (hades ? Happy is the be- 
 ing who is fsniible of the advantages of a religious 
 retirement from the world, of a facred tranquillity, 
 wkere all the benefits to be d«rivei from Ibcie-y 
 
64 InfMencs cf Solifmh. 
 
 imprefs thenifelves more derply in the heart, \7here 
 ei^ery hour is cop.fecrated to thepra^li e of the mild 
 and peaceful virtues, ?.nd wliere every man, when 
 he is on the bed of der.th, v/iOits he had lived ! But 
 thefe :idvan!ages become maich more cor fpieuous 
 when we cornpire tlie modes of thought whi^h em- 
 ploy the mind oP a folitary ph'lofopher v/ith thofe 
 of a worldly fen ru?.rui: ; the tirelbme and tumul<ii- 
 cu^ liie of the one with the {"oft tranquillity cf the 
 other ; when V7e oppolc the fe:ir and horror v/hi:h 
 iiiilarb tlie death-bed of rhe worldly-minded man 
 with the p?ace*hle and eal'y exit of tncfe pi-^us fouls 
 who fubmit with refigaaiion to the will of Heaven. 
 It is at this awful aioment that vve feci hDw impor- 
 tant it h to turn the eye inv/ardly up'>i2 ourfelve?, 
 at^d to held a religious c.:>:nmunion vviih our 
 Creator, if we would b^ar ihe fait: rings of life 
 with dignity, and the pains of death with eafe. 
 
 Solitude air)rds us t'\e mofl incoateliible ad- 
 \i^nta2:e3 under the greatall adverfities of Hfe, The 
 convalrfcent, th^ unfortunate, the mafanthrcp?, 
 here find equal relief ; their tortured fouls here find 
 a bal 11 for the deep an .l painful v/ouads th:-y have 
 received, and foon regain their priuine health and 
 vigour. 
 
 Sicknefs and p.fflvftion would fly with h error 
 from the retreats of Sclitul=, if th ir friendly fnades 
 did not affjrd them t .at coi:ibhitlon 'v\^hich they 
 are unahle to obtain in the temples of pleafure. 
 The fubtile vapour wiiich fenfuality and intcxica- 
 tion fhjd upon tlie objefts t:iat furround a ilate of 
 heal: h and happinefs, entirely dif-'ppears ; and all 
 thole charms, which mbhii rather in imagination 
 than in reahty, bfe their power. To th^ happy, 
 every ohj ;£l wea';s the delightful cr.lour of the rcfe ; 
 but to the miierable, all is black and dreadful. 1 he 
 two conditions are equally in the extreme ; but 
 neither of them difcover the eirors into v/h:ch they 
 Ere betra3'ed3 until the moment when the curtaki 
 
Yne InfufiKC of ZcFitudf, 
 
 drain ; when tie {cens changes, the illufion is difli- 
 pated. Both cf thcxTi ei j ">y the dream, while the 
 uaderKanding cor.tinues filent and ablbrbed. The- 
 ore feels that God empk^ys h's attention to th^ 
 prefervation of his creature^;, even when he fees- 
 them the mofl abandoned and prcfiigate ; the ethers 
 devote then:f:-lves to thofe vanities and pleafares 
 wiih which the fafnions of the world intoxicate the 
 mir.d, even although at the very moment they re- 
 flect ferioully upon ihemf/lves, upon thdr prefcnt 
 f.tuaticn, tneir future deitiny, and the means by 
 which alone they can be conducted to perfect feh- 
 city. 
 
 Kow unhappy ihould we be if the Divine Pro- 
 vidence w^ere to grant us every thing we defire ■ 
 Ev=n under the very afiiiclions by which man con- 
 ceives all the happinefs of his life annihilated, God 
 perhaps purpofes fomething extraordinary in his fa- 
 vor. New circuip.ftances excite new exertions. In 
 Solitude and trx-^.nqiv.Uity, if we earnefdy endeavor 
 to conquer misfortuae, the adiivity cf life, v/hdch, 
 until the moment of adverlTty, had bien perhaps 
 fufpended, faddenly changes ; and the mind regains 
 its energy and v'gcr, even while it laments thefttte 
 cf inaclion to which it conceives itfeii to hz irretrie- 
 vably reduced. 
 
 iput there are flill greater advantages : if fcrrow 
 f jrce(iu3 into Schtude, patience anid perfeveranci 
 foon re!lore the f ul to its natural trauquillity and 
 joy. We ought never to irifpe<5l the volume of fu- 
 tuiity f its p?g:S will only deceiye us : on the con- 
 trary, we cu^nt f r ever to r:-pe?-t this expanoien* 
 tal fruth, this confolatcry m:;xira — That the objects 
 which men behcLi at a diftance with fear and trem- 
 bling, iofe cn a nearer approach, net only ti^eir dif- 
 agrceable and ir.enacirg afpefl, but fr-^qoently, in 
 the event, produce the mcfc agreeable and unex»» 
 pe6l ;d pleafures. He v/r.o tries everv expedient, 
 who bcUly opp;)f.s hijiifelf to every dilEcurty, wip 
 (VI 2) 
 
66> 
 
 The InJJucnce of Solitude* 
 
 ftands ready and inRexibla tD every obiiacle, who 
 neglecl; no exertion within his pov/er, and relies 
 with confidance upon the affiilanc.e of God, extracts 
 ii-om alHi^bioa both its poifon and its iting, and de- 
 prives misfortune of its v:(^')ry. 
 
 Sorrow, misfor'ran^, frknefs, focn render us 
 eafy and f imillar with Sclitude. How readily we re- 
 nounce the world, how indifferent we become to 
 all its plealiires, when the inGdiotis eloquence of the 
 pafTions is filenced, when we are diflr^6led by pain, 
 cpprefTcd by grief, and defer ted by all our powers I 
 Under (uch^circutnflanc^s we imnaediately perceive 
 the weaknefs and inft ability cf thofe fuccors which 
 the world affords ; where pain is mix^d with every 
 joy, and vanity reigns thrcujjhout. How maiiy 
 lif^i'ul truths, alas i does ficknefs teach even to kings 
 and rr inifters, while they fuffer theinfelves to be de- 
 luded and impofed upon by all mankind ! 
 
 Trie opponunity which a v detudiaarian erjoys 
 of employing his facuhies with facility and fuccefs 
 in a manner conformable to the extent of his defigns, 
 is undoubte.lly fhrrt, and pufles rJipidly away. 
 8uch happinefs is the lot only of thofe who enjoy 
 robull health : they slone can excbdiB, " Time is my 
 iywn r' — But he who labors under continual ficknefs 
 and fuiTerin^:, and whofe avocation depeeds on the 
 pu\->iic neceliity or caprice, can never fay t^fHt he 
 has one movient to himfelf. He mufi: watdi t he Meeting 
 hours as they pals, aad feize an interval Qf leifure 
 when and where he can. Neceffity, as v/eil as rea- 
 fon, convinces him, that he miiii:, in fpit« of his 
 daily fuffrrir-gs, his wearied body, or his haraffed 
 m'nd, firmly refr/i his accuojuhting troubles ; and, 
 if he would fave himfelf from becoming: the victim 
 of cejfc>ion, manfully combat the difficulties by 
 which he is att.^cked. The more we enervat.^ cur- 
 ffelves the more v/e become the prey of ill health ; 
 but a determined courage and obiiinate refiftance 
 frequently renovate cur powers ; and he who, ia 
 
The Itijfuence of Sciitiule, 6 J 
 
 the of Solitude, vigdfi'oufly wrcRles with m:?- 
 fortane, is certain, in the event, of gaining confid- 
 erabie advantage. 
 
 But imder thepain^of fi:kners, we are apt too 
 eafily to liften to the voice of indulgence ; we neg- 
 le£t to exercife the powers we poilefs ; and, infceiid 
 cf dire£i:ing the artentioa to thofe cbjefts which 
 may divert diltraftlon and ilrangthen fortitude?, we 
 fofler fondly in our bofoms all the dil;:greeable cir- 
 cumflances of our fituation. Th.^ fciii fn:ks from 
 inquietude to inquietude, lofes all its powers, abar- 
 dons its remaioing reafon, and feel?, from its in- 
 creafing agonies and fuifcnngs, no conirdsnce in m 
 OWQ exertion?. The vahtudinarivan (hould force 
 his mind to forget its troubles ; fnc iild endeavor 
 to emerge from the hea^^y atmofphere by which he 
 rs enveloped and deprefTed. By thele exertions he 
 
 certainly find unexpected relief, 2nd be able to 
 accomplifh that which beiore he coixeived to he 
 iinpoffible. For this purpoie, however, he iTiufcfiril 
 difmifs the phyficians who daily vifir him to afcer- 
 taia the ftatec-^f his health ; feeling h^s piilfe with a 
 ludicrous gravity, while they ferioufly ihak« their 
 heads, and pfrform, according to their cuftom, ma- 
 ny other afic6i:ed^ and rldiculcais tiicks ; but who,, 
 from a great inchjaatioa to difccv.*r what does not 
 exilt, unhappily never difcera the fymptoms that 
 are mofl: pl'dinly to be feea. Tkefe pretenders to 
 fcieace fe,rve only to alana the mind cf the patient, 
 to rivet hi? attention more clofely to thcfe very ob* 
 jec1:> which it is his mtereft to forget, and to redou- 
 ble his fiuLrlngs by the benefidal danger into which 
 they raiie the moft trifling circamftance of his dif- 
 order. lie ir-iift alLo avoid the compa'.iy cf filfe 
 fri?nd% acd all thofe v/l:o only adminiHer flattery 
 to h", s frailties. He mufl lenni to a^ure them, .that 
 he difbelijrv^s allthat they have told him; fbr if 
 the fe»aiation:5 thsy excite ar* thought to have any 
 found-ation in.truth, his own im'-giaxtion imincd^** 
 
68 The Injiuence of BoUtude, 
 
 ately fupennduces a variety of gloomy phantoms 
 aiid Lerrity":ng chimeras. 
 
 Thus, under fiturrions the mcfl ="ifficult to fup. 
 pert, there ftUl reirrain ref:ur:es ?nd conf la'ionj 
 in the bofoin (. f Sclitude. Are the nerves dernng 
 ed ? Is the head pained by veri.ig :s ? Has the mine 
 no longer any o.-.wer to tfdr.k, the eye to read, th< 
 hand to write ? Has iv be ccaie phylically impDiIible 
 to exercife any c f the funcdons of the foul ? In fuch 
 a fiiuation we r^xiZ:. kam to V(:ge'ate,'^ faid one 
 of the mOil enl'ghtcn-td phikdcphers of Germanyj 
 when he beheld me at Hanover, in a conditicii 
 which rendered rne incapable cf adopting any oth-^ 
 er refource. () Garve 1 v/'th what rapture I threw 
 myf if into your ar:7)s i Wirh what tranfports I 
 heard y.^i fpe?di ! v/hen you ihewed me the necef- 
 fity of le:-rr.ing to fupport myfclf under my accu- 
 mulite'.^ ralamities, by cooviacing me that you had 
 exper . n^::: equal fuiferings, and had been ableta 
 pradife the leiibos which y^u taught. 
 
 Tne fablime Mendelibrm, durirg a certain pe-^ 
 ricd of his life, was frequendy obliged to retire^ 
 when dircouifiDs? on philofophical fubje£fs, to avoid 
 the danger of bd ti^g. hi thefe moaienrs it wa*; 
 his caftoin to nrgbdi: all ftudy, to banifh labar of 
 th'.Aight entirely from his mind. Kis phyfician one 
 d?.y aiked him, How then do you employ ycur; 
 ti.11% if you do not think ?" "I retire to the win* 
 dow c f my c amber, and count the, tiles upon the 
 Toof of my neighbor's hcuCe/* 
 
 Witboiit thy tranquil wifrlom, O my belovcvi 
 IMe^d: bb:::ri ! without th^^ refignation to the will 
 rleavee, v^^e can never reach that elevated grnn-, 
 deur of charterer, 0:7 never attain to that dignified- 
 endurance of our rufihriags. can never p-eiieis that' 
 floie fortitude whi^ h places human happinels be- 
 yond thr reach rf mifery, an.d out cf the pov/er of 
 iat:. Thy great exa-.npl.^ purs con fab ti on into 
 tae be:a I s aiid huir^iiiity fnouU behold with grate^ 
 
Tk' LiPucncc of SoUtud^. 
 
 fiil 'y^>y the fuperiority which reHgnatlon P.uords to 
 us, even und:.r tr.e frvereil cf phyucil Jiiisfbrtuiies.^ 
 A (light effcrt to cbtrdrx the fairteli ray of 
 coTibrt, Riid a cx\m rjfigTiiuion unJer inevitable 
 misibrair_e?, will naiV-u^illy conn ibute to procure re- 
 llcri-". The man vvhoib nii'nd r,dh?res to virtue, will 
 never permit himiblf to be f.) far overcome by the 
 ieide of mistbrtune, as net to endeavor to vanqui(h 
 his feehngo, evea whcTi, fallen into the unhwppy 
 ilaie of defprdr, he no hn.'s'er re.?s any prolprct of 
 comfort cr c nlcl.rdon, The moil dejected fom 
 ii:.?.y endure rciifaiDns deeply rirli6t::ng, prcv'ded 
 thj mind ht not lazy rnd inactive, will exercife its 
 r;ttei:tion on icrae ct'hc-r objefl: than i;felf,and make 
 the finvuieft eitbrt to wididraw the foul from brood- 
 i::g over its t orments and its forrows, by iLfpiring 
 tiie miad with ideas of virtuous fentimenis, noble 
 actions, and generous inciinatioDs. For this reafcn, 
 it is neccliary to cultivate in cur riMiids the love of 
 F.cb:vity, and, after a dutiful and entli'e fubmilTioii 
 to the difpenfations of Fleaven, force ourfelves into 
 einpbyment, until, from the warm h cf our exer- 
 tions, we acquire an. habit cf alertnefs. I cjnfider a 
 diipofidcn t.o ot active amndil that difguft and apa- 
 thy which deftroy the nerves cf life, as the moil 
 fure a^.d efii:acioijs a^jtidcte againli the poifon of 
 a drjc6ted fpirit, a foured temp r, a mehmcholy 
 inin.1. 
 
 The influence of the mind upon the body is 
 one of the mofc conf. latory truths to thofe who are 
 the fubjecci cf habitual fufeings. Supported b-y 
 this idta, they never permit tlieir reafon to be en- 
 t'.r:'ly overcome : rehgion, uader this id a, never 
 lof-s its pewerful empire in the breau : and th-y 
 are never inftru-cled in the lamentable tru^h, that 
 men cf the fi :elL ie ilibilities and nioft cultivated 
 underllan dings frequently diicover lefs fortitude 
 under alTliclions than th^ melt vulgar cf m.ankind. 
 It i3 periiapd incredible, that Cv.mp'^^'^neHa ihouid 
 
IBs Influence of Solitude, 
 
 have been capabls cf deran5.ing bis mind by gfco< 
 my reflexions, to fuch a degree that he migi^.t have; 
 endured the tortures cf the rack v/iih lets pain; 
 but i ca fro u my own experience, afiert, that 
 even in the exireiniiy rf diii reft, every obj eel which 
 divert? the '.tt;e:^-i3i:, f.-rLeiic the evils we endure,' 
 and frequently drives ih-m, unp^rceived,, r.way. ■ 
 Many cdebr?.t/.-d p''dloiC'phc-rs have by thW 
 means at length been aole net orJy to preserve a' 
 tranquil mind in the midii: of the mofi: poignant 
 fuiieringr., hut have even i:.creared the (Irength of- 
 their incelicCbril faculties in fpiteof their corporeal 
 pains. Rouireau compofed the greater parr of his 
 immortal works under ths continual preffure of 
 ficknefs and of grief. Gellcrt, who, by his mild, 
 Sigreeable, and inftrufdve ■*;/ritings, has become ths 
 preceptor of Germany, certainly found in this in- 
 tereiling occupation the fnrri!: remedy againfl me- 
 hmchrly. At an age already far advanced in I'fe, 
 Mendeifohm., v;ho, alth:;ugh not by 'cature fubje £1: 
 to dejeclion, was for a long tin:e opprefTed by an 
 almoit inconceivable deranp;enient of the ner vous 
 lyfhesi!, by fubmitting with o^^tience and docility to 
 his fiilierings, flill maintains all the noble and iub- 
 lime advantages of h's youth. Garve, who had 
 live i T/hide yrars with :ur being able to read, to 
 write, rr think, ribhrw-rds ccnipofed his Trea- 
 tii'? on Ci:ero ; an J in w..;rk, this profound 
 writer, fo circnvi"^' b hi all b exprcfiicns that hev 
 w - - -^ ' -:d' cled if any word tea 
 
 Q' ■ nf^*T„ With ? foccies 
 
 cf enthi: , ' ^ ' ^'ity God 
 
 fvr the i i : ; .^i ni, i/:xauie it^ 
 
 had convi . or" V. e cxt n.-n/e influence which; 
 
 the powers oi mind pobefb over thcfe cf the 
 body. 
 
 A fn-m rcfolution, a flea^'y adherence towards 
 fome iiible and interefling end, will enable us to 
 endure th^; molt poignant afiiidion. Aa heroic 
 
71)6 Influence of ^r2itude. *]% 
 
 C(3iir?.ge is natur?.l in ?-H the d?.ngerons r-nterprizes 
 of I'mbition, and in the lit Lie crclles of life is much 
 ni~re comr;:cn th ^n p-^tience ; but a perfevcring 
 courage under evils of loDg duration, is a quality 
 r?-rdy f?en, efpeci'^ih^ when th- foul, er.ervMeci by 
 ind.'ucholy, abandon? itfelf to defpiiir, it 9 rnoic or- 
 dinary refuge, and I:oks up to Heaven alone for its 
 prote&ion. 
 
 it is t:is th:^t re:-:dcrs melancholy the m:il fe- 
 vere of all the cahmities of j.uman life ; and of all 
 the rcT.edics againll it, there is none more effica- 
 cious than a calm ard filent employnient of the 
 ihind : for in Solitude the weight of mel-incholy is 
 leflenei by the feebleil eltcrf, by the fiighteft re- 
 fiiiance. I'he moment \<k. make it a rule never to 
 be idle, and to bear our fuffirings with patience, 
 the keenefi nnguifli •: f the Icul fiies_from our relig- 
 nztion, y^Ields t-D our fubmiilion. Vv 1 ile we encou- 
 rage a f. ndrefs for aclivity, nnd en.^er.vcr to impel 
 the incumberit mifery by moderate but continuecl 
 efforts," the fpirits gain new pr;v/Lrs : a iinall viclO- 
 ry leads to a greater conqne'l: ; and the j jy which 
 fiiccjfs inipire?, im r.ediat-lv defcroys the ncticn we 
 had enter:axed of endlefs fon'ow. If the exertions 
 of realbnand virtue prove in*feci:ua] againft li:k- 
 cefs and ill- humor, w^e fhouH employ ihe mind 
 upon fome engaging ^'>:e<^ wh-ch requires but little 
 attention ; for the u^ghteft is freque :tiy caoable 
 of iubdai;-!g the fev.reft fcrrow. The fhades of 
 melancholy difapp -ar. the momert we fix attention 
 on anv obj £1: that intereits the mind Oftentimes, 
 i:b-S ! that extrava8:iint defpair, that fupiaenefs and 
 npat'^y which rej^fts all advice, and renders us in- 
 capable cf confolation, is only a concealment of cur 
 vexations, and cf confequenceb-^c-'-.mesa real n^ala- 
 <ly of the mind, wivch it is impciTible to conquer 
 but by a firm and conftant perfeverance. 
 
 To men who polT^fs a feniibihty too refined, an 
 irri-jLgination too ard-^ut^ to mix wicli comfort in ths 
 
72 The lnfu€j:ce r/ ^olitude^ 
 
 fociety of the world, and who nra contmiinlly com- 
 piaining of men and t;.ing?, Sclitade is not only de- 
 fin-ible, but ?il fohit'^Iy ncccflary. H-; who fiilFir^rs 
 himielf to be affiicled bv that which icarcely ex- 
 cites an fmction ia the brealls of nther iren ; who 
 comrhii/^-S : f thofe misfortiinv«s as fevere which eth- 
 ers icarcely ieei ; whofe vtvoA falh", int ) deipair mi- 
 lefij his happmefs bs inftantly reft-, red, and his 
 v/ants iaimediaffly faiisii^d ; who fufters unceaf^ng 
 torments from the iihiCjons of his fancy ; who feels 
 himfelf unhapp^^ cniy bccnife proiparity do^s not 
 £nticip-.ite his w:fhes ; who murmurs ag;^i^fl the 
 bleffings hs receives, hecaufe he is ignor?iin of his 
 real w;mts ; who F-ies from cn^ amufement to ano- 
 ther ; who is alarmed at every thing, ^nd enjoys 
 nothing : he, alas i is net formed f(:r ibciety ; and 
 if Solitude has not power to heai his wounded 
 fplrit, the earth cert^^iiily contains no remedy to 
 cure him. 
 
 Men who in other refpfcls are very rational, 
 p-^iTeffcd of exceiknt he;n-is, of pious difpoiitions, 
 frequenily f^^.ll info difquieiude and dtfpair, but it 
 is a Ir^i of I entirely their ov:n hxAt, If their delpair 
 ar.fe, as i? g~ceraib^ thi cafe, from unfr.i:::ded fears ; 
 if t^:ey love to tcr - nt 'headMves and others upon 
 every iligSt i;xonve.iie:>ce, up;Dn the finalleit de- 
 rangement of their health ; if they conflartly re- 
 fort to injdicine for that reli rf which rcafon alcav^ can 
 afFjrd ; if they will rxt er^deavor to reprtfs the 
 wanderirgs of t- 'eir farcies ; if, after h?vi:g fup- 
 ported the ari!^''^ o""ns with patience, andbhmc»:d 
 the greate'c a by fortitude, they neither 
 
 ran n:r W;li ie^au l.< :)car t'^epun(fi:areof the frnall- 
 eix pin, to ensure t'^e lig: teH: accidents of irortal 
 iife ] they ought not to co' :^ -'-^ii of the want of 
 ecu i-a^re to any but t iear', .: i\:ch characterf?, 
 \vl>o by a fingle efbrt of t-ia : aierihindi-^g might 
 look with an eye of comDoibrc; an 1 taai^quiility oa 
 the multiplied aiad fatal iires iffuicg from the dread- 
 
The hjhience of Solitude* 7 3 
 
 ful cannon's mouth, fall under the apprehenCon of 
 being fired at by p-^p guns. 
 
 Firninefs, reibluticn, and all thofe qualities of 
 the foul which form a fcoic hardnefs of characler, 
 are much fooner acquired by a quiet communion 
 with the heart, than in the bufy ir.teixourfes of 
 mankind, where innumerable difficulties continual- 
 ly oppofe us; where duty,'fcrvility, flattery, and 
 fear, obfiiruct exertion where every thing unites 
 to dcftroy cur powers ; acd where, tor thisreafon^ 
 men of the weake^l m.inds raid moft contracted no- 
 tions are always more active and popular, gain 
 more attention, and are better received than mea 
 cf enlarged and noble minds. 
 
 The mind fortifies irfelf with impregnable 
 Rrength under the fhades of Solitude againfl fulFer- 
 ings and altliccion. In retirement, the frivolous at- 
 tachments which fteal away the foul, and drive it 
 wandering, as ch^^nce may direil, into a dreary 
 void, die away. The dillracling multiplicity of en- 
 joyments are here renounced ; we have experienc- 
 ed how little we v/ant ; p^rh ips have made fo con^ 
 liderable a progrefs in the knowledge of onrfelve?, 
 that we feel no difcompofure when the Alruighly 
 chaftifes us with allf.dions, humbles cur prouJ 
 fpirits and vain conceits, thwarts the violence cf 
 cur paffions, and reftorcs us to a lively fenie of out 
 inanity and weaknefs. How many imxportant truths 
 do we here learn, of which the Vv^orlJly-minded 
 man has no idea ; truths which the torrent of van- 
 ity overwhelms in his diffipated fouK' How famii- 
 iarifed we become Vwith the evils attached to a ftate 
 of mortality, in proportion as we caft the calm eye 
 of reflection on curielyes and on the ohje(!:LS which 
 farround us ! In a llate of Sclitud?^ and tranquillity, 
 how diflerent every thing appears ! The heart ex- 
 pands to the molt virtuous fentiments ; the blufh 
 of confcience reddens on tue cheek ; we reach the 
 fubiimefc conceptions cf the mind, adept tlie bold- 
 
74 l^hs InJJuence of ScUtude. 
 
 refoluti ^ns, ?.nd obferva u concucl: truly irre- 
 prodchrible. 
 
 'i he unfortunate being who deplores the death 
 of fome beh'ved friend, ccniiantly feels ^ (!.rorg 
 de'Te to v/ifhdraw from the i:.itercourfe of fociety ; 
 whii^ all unite to de'lrpy Ve l-i-^al^le inclination.' 
 They av::id all converfiticn ^vith ih-i unhappy fuf- 
 ferer on the fuhj.61: cf liis b is, a-^d think" it more 
 f on{bh':ory to (urronnd ' i:n a cr jV7d of ac- 
 quaintance, cc ld ar.n ir:dllt£rev:.r t j ths e^/ent, vvho. 
 think their duties fuflidc'.nly dii charged by paying 
 the rribuuiry vi'it, an ' ch-t^ci-i-;- from morning till, 
 evening on the cnrren: : town, as if each; 
 
 cf thsir pin lim'rics cn.\^j... . .Ini cf coin for tin-- 
 to the wcnn. e.:i heart. 
 
 ■ " Leave vie to myfdf \ ex:l':in~;ed.a thoufand 
 times, v/ithin two 3^earr, aPrer my arrival in Ger- 
 many, where I I dt tne Invely idol cf my heart, the 
 amiable companion cf my life. Her d:p?rted fpi- 
 rit ftili hovers round me : the f n-'er recallettion of- 
 all that ihe was to me, the i:fii cting remembrance i 
 of all that fhe fullered cn rny account, are ahvays 
 prefect to my mind. What i3i;ri;y and innocence \ 
 What mildnefs and affabiiiry! Ider death was as 
 calm and refigned as her i'f 3 vvas pure and virtu- 
 ous ! During five long months ti'e lieger ng pangs 
 .of dilTolution hung continually arcund her. Onei 
 da3^, as fhe reclined uoon h r Di'dow. wliile I read 
 to her " The Death of Chrifd' by Raniinlir, fhe' 
 eafl her eyes over the p'.ge^ and liiendy pointed out; 
 to me the fdlowing pailiige : — IMy breath grows 
 weak, my da^^s are fhortened, my heart is full of 
 nfflidion, and mry foul prepares to take its flight." 
 Alas ! when I recall all th:^^ circumilanees to m.y- 
 mind, and reccile6l : " — ''"-:Ie it was for me 
 to abandon the v/orld . 'nent of ar.guifli 
 
 and diflrefs, whral carrietl the iceds of death with- 
 in my bofom, vdien i had neither forth ude to bear 
 my attiidioas, nor courage to reliit them ; while li 
 
The Lifuer.cj of SoUtiuk. 75 
 
 r;2f yet purfued by nialice, and outraged by ca- 
 lumny ; in fuch a fituition, I can eaHi}^ concsiv* 
 th?.t Tny exciaaiation nii^ht be, Leave vie to mj- 
 Jll/r 
 
 To be alone, far retired from the tuii^iilts and 
 embarrallineuts of locie.y, is the firil a^::d for.deft 
 deilre of tha heart, when under fu:h misfcrtune^f, 
 we are unhappily fitua'ed aiiiO'\&; mea who, inca- 
 p.ible of equal feeling, have uo idea of the icrments 
 we endure. 
 
 How ! to live in Sclitude, to rjimquhTr the fc-- 
 clety of men, to be buried, during life, in fon:e wild 
 deferred country i O yes f fuch a retreat aiTjrds a 
 tender and certliin ccniblation under all the L^liiic- 
 ticns which fafien cn the heart. Such i", the eter- 
 nal frp-'ratij^n of ienfible and beloved fiien.ls ; a 
 iep:n:ti:n m^re griev ous and territyi: g'thrui the 
 fallal period iilelf v/r.ich terminates exiftence : th-: 
 he;^rt is torn with anguilh, the viry ground we frea i 
 on feems to fiak beneath cur feet, when t::i? hor-- 
 rihle and hidden event divides us fr m thofe who 
 had for f j long a period been all iii all to us in life, 
 whofe mem:ry neither time nor accident can wipe 
 away, and whofe abfence renders all the plealures' 
 of the w. rld odious to our fight. Sclilude i3a fuch 
 an event is our only ref >urce : but to foften the 
 grief which thi? etern?.! feparation iniii^ls, to remove 
 tae forrows which prey upon the pjor heart, to 
 wipe away ti e ter.rs trom the cheeks, we muil, e- 
 ven in Solituie, contiaue to employ the mind, to 
 excite its attention to the accompiilhrnent of feme 
 iDtererLing end, and ieah the imrgination from cue 
 object to another. 
 
 How many torments, alas ! are there that lie 
 concealed from the cbiervation cf the world, which 
 we mu : barn to bear within cur own bofcms, and 
 which can only be foftened by Bclitude and retire- 
 men t 1 
 
 Reprefent to yciirfelf an unfortunate foreign-- 
 
vo The Infiience of Solitude. j 
 
 e_r placed in a country where every one t;'as fufpi- 
 cious of his ch?a-a£ler, borne down by misfortunes 
 from every fide, attacked every moment by def- 
 pair ; who, during a loiig courfe of years, could 
 neither iloop nor fit to write, without feeling the ' 
 moft excruciating pains ; in a ccuntry, v/here, from 
 a fanatic prejudice, every one iircv/ed thorns and 
 briers in his path ; where, in the midft cf ?11 his 
 Jiiliielions, he was deprived of the object which v/as 
 dearefl to him in the world. Yet it was in iiich 
 ^ countr}^, and under thefe circumftances, that he, at 
 length, found a perfon who ex: ended the hand cf 
 affe-ftlon towards him ;* whcfe voice, like a voice 
 from Keaveo, faid to him : " Come, 1 will dry up 
 your tears, i v/ill icfpire courage into your wound- 
 ed heart, i will be the kind comforter of ?ll your ^ 
 fufFerings, aid you to fupport them, banifh the re- 
 imembrance of fcrrow from your m.ind, recall your 
 fenfibility to the touching beauti-s ofirature, and 
 force you to acknowledge, th-.it the Religion -vje 
 profefs is alfo infpiredby a beneficent Deity, whofe 
 goodnefs fcrew^s flowers over the paths of life. Ycu 
 ihall afterwards afford affiflance to m?, become p?.rt 
 of my family, aiid we will read, think, feel, and 
 life up our hands together in oraifons to God. I 
 wili endeavor to charrii away the filence of difgufl 
 by e::iter':aining converfition ; and, wheii tranquili- 
 ty ror urns, coll 3ct for you all the floxvers v/hich a- 
 dorn the paths of life ; difcourfe wi:h you on t-ie 
 ch a r 1:1 3 of virtue ; think of yv.u with love; treat 
 you with efceem ; rJy upon you v/ith confidence; 
 prove to yon that the peopl e among w^hom ycu are 
 fituated are lefs v/icked than you conceive them to 
 be ; and peroaps that they are not fo r.t all, I will 
 remove from your mind all anxiety about domeflic 
 concerns ; do every thiag to relieve and pleafe you : 
 
 * The author here siiudes to Madame Dorine, wife of the Coun- 
 i^'or of State, ar.d ca^^titcr to the cclel: ate-.i "V'K-c-Cnur.ceilor Sciube. 
 
The hijlMr.ce cf S:/ifi2d\ 77 
 
 ynu (hall fafre all the happinefs of an ep.fy, (nnquil 
 life, i will diiigcnJy endeavor to print out your 
 faults, and you, in gratitude, (hall alio correcTl: mine : 
 you fhall form my miad, comuuinicate to me your 
 knowledge, and prefirve to me, by the airift.mce 
 of God and your cwn talents, the felicities of my 
 life, togcciier with thofe of my hufband and my 
 children : we will l.;ve cur neig^bc•rs with the 
 f.ime heart, and unite cur eideavors to ailDrd con- 
 foil. ion to the aiHicled, and fiixor to the diftrefTed.'* 
 
 But if, after having experienced all th's plea- 
 fure during a great nu nber cf ye^rs ; if, after ha- 
 ving enjoyed thefe ccnfolations under circumitances 
 the inoft critical and cruel ; if, after flattering my- 
 fclf that her friendly hands would clofe niy dying 
 eye-lids, that I fliould expire in ti:fe arms cf this he- 
 roic female; if, for only obeying the divine im- 
 pul'^e of comnjireration, nv/ proLectrefs fnould be 
 tern for ever fi-om the b:fom of her family, obliged 
 to leave her country, and feck a voluntary exile in 
 a frreign hud ; if I fh :uld behold m.yfelf for ever 
 deprived of this dear friend, this prot cting angel, 
 v/h.it comfort would remain for me on the face cf 
 iheearih? Thus abandoned and forl rn, to what 
 cfyium could i ily ? To SoU-ude ab>ne ; there I 
 might combat my riling griefs, and learn to fiipport 
 my defiiny with courage. 
 
 lb a heart torn, by too rio;crous a dcfliny, 
 fjo'n the bofDm that v/as opened for it3 reception, 
 from a boforn in which it fondly dwelr, from an ob- 
 ject that it dearly loved, detached from every cb- 
 jecl, at a L is where to fix its aite^tion, or c:mmn- 
 nicate its feen g<?, SoUtude abne can adminifler 
 comfori. To him Vv'ho. in t'^e cruel hour of fepa- 
 radon, exclaims in the bitternefs of his fjul, "la 
 every exert'on to do good, m.y only reward is to 
 give you pleafure ; all the happlnefs cf my life con- 
 centres in thejrys that you receive Solitude is 
 th^ bfl and ouiy conlbh. ion. 
 
 ( v'ii 2) 
 
7 S The^ Btfmence cf SoBijdr. - 
 
 There are, therefore, fi! nations from which na- 
 thing but Solirude an J retirerr.ent cm reheve us. 
 For this rcaibn, it freqaeirly neccfT-'.ry that thofe 
 whom mehinchcly affefts, fhould be h^ft alcne ; for^ 
 as we (hiiil now pr3cec:d to (hew, they may find in ^' 
 Soh tilde au infinite variety cf comolati'ons, and ma- ' 
 ny fources cf comfort, both for the mind and the 
 heart. 
 
 The JieaUhy and the fick, the happy and the* 
 miferable, the ^ rich and the poor, ail, without ex- 
 ception, may fi'od i^fi.iite advantages in a religious 
 retirement from the world. It is net, alis 1 'in the 
 temples of Fleafure, in thofe meetings where every 
 one empties to its laft drop the cup of Felly, in the 
 Coteries occupied by vulgir gaiety, in briUiant af- 
 femiblies, or at hixurious boards, that the mind- 
 grows fimihar with tncfe tender and lublime fenti- 
 ments v/hich fubdue the defires cf fenl'uality, enno- 
 ble all the enjoymen's of this life, raife the pifiing 
 moment into irnportanre by conne^llr.g it with the 
 events cf futurity, and banilh from a trarfitory life 
 the extravagant fondnefs fcr tha difiip^itions cf the 
 world. 
 
 In Solitude v/e behclA m^ore ne?r arid iniiniate- 
 ly that Providence which overlooks all. Silence 
 continually recalls to our minds the confolatory 
 idea, the mdld and farisf; »R:ory fentiment, that the 
 eye of the Almigh-y is for ever viev/irg the actions 
 ef his creatures j that he iuperiatends all cur move- 
 ments: that we are governed by his power, and 
 prefsrved by his goodr.efs. In Solitude, the Dtiiy 
 IS every where before us. Emancipated frcm the 
 dargercus ferment . tions of fenfe, guided by noble? 
 iiichnations, pcilelTed cf pur^, unalterable joy s,^ we 
 contea^plate witli ferioufnefs a'od vigor, with free- 
 dom and with ccDfi.derce, -the attainm.ent of fu* 
 preme felicity, and enjoy in thought the happinefs 
 we expecl to reach, hi this h ly meditation every 
 .^agble Isutiiiient, every *)ainful anxiety, every. 
 
ne Irf uciKC of SclifiuL; 
 Worldly thought and vulgar care, vanifh frDin the 
 
 Solitude b?.? alrs'idy brought us rerr- r ta 
 God, when, b-'rli !e the ♦endc.r and ruman-T feel- 
 ings of tne heart, we feel thofe falutary feofaii-n.*^ 
 which a diftriift an ! j^ahufy of our own abiliiies 
 create ; fcnfaticns whicd in pubi c lie make l^ght 
 and trardient irapreffions, and fade io foon away. 
 When at the b-?d of fickr^efs I behold the effcrts 
 whica the Icul ra^skes to cppofe its impending diilc-^ 
 kiuon fr:m the body, and, notwithflanding, difco- 
 vix by the increafiiig tortures the r.ipi.i advanr^es of 
 spprcaching death ^^he^i I fje my unhappy patient 
 extrnd his cold and trem.blin? hands, to thank the 
 AlmightV' for the fmLaileft mltiga ion of bis pains ; 
 when I hear his utterance crcvked by incenni: gled 
 groaas, and view the tender locks and filer t lan- 
 guage of his attending friends ; aJi my powers aV.an- 
 don me, mv heart bleeds, and I terir myfelffrom 
 the forrcwful fcene, Jo pcur my t :ars more freely 
 over the unhappy fuiicnngs of humanijiv, tolamtent 
 my own inability, and the vain conhience placed 
 in 'a feeble art ; a c ^nfid^nce which m.en ha v^heea 
 fo forward to abufe. Confcious of the inetiicicy 
 of art, I never rife from my bed witbcut thi:^J<:ing 
 k a heavenly miracle that 1 am ifill ahve. When I 
 count the number cf my years, I exclaim with the 
 live.Heft gratitude, that Gcd has prefen-ed my lifg 
 beyond m.y exp:6riti: Uv l hrcu.-h what a fea of 
 dangers h:^s his gjodncfs conduclxd me 1 Refietl:. 
 ing every moment on tne weaknefs cf niy condition^, 
 and beholding men fuMenly foatched away before 
 me in the prim^e and vigor of hfe ; miCn who, but ?^ 
 few hours before, entertained no fear cf death, and 
 reckoned, perhaps> cn^an extended leng'h of days -^ 
 v/hat can I do, but olter up my fil:-nt adoratiors to 
 tf.at Providence who has thus faved m.e from the 
 menaces of Death i 
 
 is; it poliibls ta 'ixcome wife,- and efcapis from 
 
8o 
 
 % Influence of Edkvdc 
 
 all the perils w'th. which the wcrld iibonnds, with- 
 out renouncing its diili 
 ferions ex;;mi:;a:;ion of 
 that wc are able mati : 
 hear and i^e ; it is odIv 
 of the mind that we ran 
 reffirg cbjecls to 
 either ufc ful or p: ■ 
 attentior i..: 
 \'Vii.,: . Oi to r 
 puruiir of eEtertcinirfn; 
 Seclion, from one pn:- ■ 
 
 rcnv.ria':i r^s on low 
 
 ions, and entering into a 
 ot on rf Ives ? It is then j -nly 
 . fit ct upon what w 
 . . the 11 lent occnpaiion'^ 
 properly view thcfe inte- 
 
 , '.v^ c- n never devote aa1| 
 
 : ^:c^;fred by the inceilant 
 ; : Ly Ih ing, without re- 
 ' " ! ; by continual 
 uyects ; by un- 
 
 v/h ^ would 
 
 notning, 
 
 He 
 
 n - ■ 
 lo 
 iv' 
 
 no :s i iy ri our w:iy, v? let 
 
 ■ n," r?yvS a Celebrated 
 1 J live in Sditude/' An 
 ..nlpdtioa ftiftes every vir- 
 I re do)ni:iion of reafbn is 1:11' 
 'ly-o of piealiire; its voice is no 
 u hrrity no longer obeyed. The 
 :: iv,;s t : I'irmount temptations ; 
 ."i;^g th.^ f:ares which the paf- 
 to find them. I'he 
 
 :t ren^non are 
 \ :n :he 
 
 •re 
 
 ?> fr.u:^tion fo little re- 
 ry diffipations of the 
 V of abiurd purruits, in- 
 nie y a::d pleafare, in- 
 :; riety which raiies the 
 dclir-s, all connexions 
 broken ; and w^e aban- 
 curce of true felicity, re- 
 / of reaf.n, and never think of 
 -0': Y^h levity and indifeence. 
 
 . J, entering in. o a ferious 
 in i/Lnt rn-?dita:ion elevates his 
 rc-;fi:n:i to:i^2rds his God ; who 
 confidtrs the an-phitheaire of nature, the fpangled 
 iirmament of Heaven, ^he verdant meads enamelled 
 witu flovrcrs, the iliipeudous mountiiiinsj zud the 
 
 w . . ■ ■ ^ :.: a 
 
 traaced : '-'ya 
 
 pi.ii;o;-^s, . . 
 beiween God and maj 
 don the firlt anJ only 
 nouace t: 
 religious 
 On the c 
 feif-exa^n: 
 thou^ihts ( 
 
Th Influence cf SoIltuJc. 8 1 
 
 :-:it groves, as the temples of the Divinity; who 
 ::re^i:s the emoli ns cf i is he-:rt to the Grc;at Au- 
 thor and Conducl:or of nil things ; v/hj ha^ contin- 
 u lly before h's eyes his eElightened Providence, 
 nuill: moil airuredly have already learned to live ia 
 pious Solitude and religiius meditation. 
 
 l^hus, by devotir'g daily oniv as many hours 
 to filent reflection as are empLyed at the toilet or 
 co.:rum?d at the card table, Soiiiude may be ren- 
 dered inftrument^l in leading the mind to piety, and 
 t'-^e heart to virtue. Meditation and r- flection con- 
 ^ .ey every mnment greater force and folidity to the 
 relL-cl, excile abhorrence cf too frequent inter- 
 urfts with mankind, and create difguft of their 
 idle entertainmenfs. We may chf rifh the teft in- 
 tentions towards our feliow-creaiurcs, ma}^ilIccor 
 them in diftref?, may do them all the good in cm* 
 power, and yet fl::un the Inxnry cf ^he'r feaflis, fly 
 from their coteries, and difdain the'r frivclous pur- 
 fuits. 
 
 The opportunities of exercifmg great virtues, 
 cf performing actiors of extenflve utility or ur.iver- 
 f;l benevolence, are confined orl^^ to a few charac- 
 ters. But how many f lent virtues are there, wiiich 
 every man has it in his power to pevfcrm wirhout 
 qin.tlng his chamber? He who can contentedly era- 
 ploy himfeif at heme, m-^.y continue thrre thewhcle 
 year, and yet in every day of that year may contri- 
 bu'e to the frlxity of ether men ; he may liften to 
 their complaints, r/iieve their d'ftref^, render many 
 fervires to tiicfe who are about him, and exreo-d his 
 benevolence in various ways, v/ithotit beicg feen by 
 the worl.-l, cr known by thcfe on wh:m he cciiferci 
 his favors. 
 
 A flrorg and determined inclination for Sell- 
 tude is frequently an hoppy omen ci' a pious difpofi- 
 tion. Youth fr:queiitly experiences a v?gue and 
 ^definable gbom, winch, as the mhid advances in 
 reafon, dies, prcgreiTiVcly away. It is cuiing this 
 
8 Z The Infdicnce of ErJltudc. 
 
 interval that v^'e begin to u xicrfl^.nd th^ huTiaa;' 
 ch'.nvfO-?^ to f-r.Ti an efVniate of cDrfdves, to per- 
 t r- Vrii t Vv'e cught to be, 
 
 Jr.^.^.- .. . ;t qA ch :::.:e ci" coniiitutic 
 
 turn.: . -uU -.^ 'f th- f ul int d n new direc- 
 
 tion ; •;:.c-:s ill ■if, and i"'-.-- ' - fug- 
 
 geuR ' v:':\r ti g curl' , ,. rbi 
 
 the Lh M drfty 's cha firi:t Idlon c ^ 
 
 a'V»'-. - vine the frit proof we receive 
 
 c Oi::t\::c ' . 1 :'^vb:ig^- of curielves. The 
 
 f'V.. :u )' of toe p lu OS io lent cioring the forious, 
 folito.ry ii: v.- i : \ \v : p--.fs in a ii xere felf-^x^mi- 
 nati ni. : 'loej pr-o:;^e too de Bly, and 
 
 beer in. ''[c ofc^'ed at cur lituation, 
 
 crfn' ■ the iirpreili-jn^^, 
 
 af)s 1 . . . ....... \ cL even this rxcefs, 
 
 vvhe : C3:n;)n- o voth irs opponte defircc, v/ith that 
 fatal u.p:;:e.:ei'^ w. ich exti ^cuimes every virtue, is 
 a r -al r - Y^s^zrt^^. The Wvrtr^t incrtiiica'icn we feel 
 cn the dif'ovary of oii^ c f: c^^, is converted by the 
 light CI a pinre and r.n::n. l fndi into happy cafe 
 and pcrf-.cit in qui ; i he fanatic enthiifiaffc 
 pr fen: - ' ' ■■ - e ho: .•■ nnighty much cftener 
 than -oirj ^vho (icoflij at religion,- 
 
 and r 
 
 ' OS is f:! cx'^-cmely rare,, 
 
 t' tain by 
 
 ii ^-^usto 
 nv . to ccn- 
 
 q : ..^i'l'^g from 
 
 pi c ' ■ to force us 
 
 i.no ae nil awa- 
 
 ke.: 10 Jio - :.vv rruit 
 
 rpen hd, and the 
 
 cup ' ... V . .' nom a 
 
 C">nvici::Dn cf ; " : i: w :ha;; '-eat- 
 
 eiVpioiefrrbo, ■ Mn- 
 
 Garyc, cxdo-. o ^elf; I 
 
 am iudvbtcd to my malady., o^.v -v;n led me to 
 
The Influence of SrMtiide, 83 
 
 make a cl "fer fcrutiny and mere nccura(e cbfcrva- 
 tion of niy own cbaracler." 
 
 The powers cf rell/'ion and phil ofop'^y are, in 
 Solitude, united to coiiducl us to the f:uT(e end. 
 Both of theai te.ich us to examine our hearts ; both 
 of them tidl us that \ve canuot guard with to:) ieri- 
 cus an apprehenfion againfl: the dangers cf'fanati- 
 cifin, Dor decry them wiih too loud a v:.ice ; but 
 they alio inftrufl us, that if virtue canDot be iuflil- 
 ied into th^ foul with ut its undergoir.g 1" rne coe- 
 vulfions, yet we ought not to he difcovir?.ged by the 
 fear cf dangver. It is not i i the monne":!-. cfj?»y, 
 U'hen we turn our eyes from Go \ r.r.d to:nk not 
 of etendiy, i\m we <;xperierce theie fL'ut?ry con- 
 vuifi .ns cf the U;ul. E^^-•l Rdigion, widi all her 
 powers, cannot pr;:duce iheni fj focn as a ccrpo- 
 re-:d malady or mental efflictic n. But if the foul 
 advances too fiowly in the her nc courl^e of virtue ; 
 if, and Mi the buv le of the wcrld, the iuj^i^errions 
 of confcience lofe their power, let every ore retire, 
 as frequently as he poilibly can, i :to Solitude, and 
 there proilratvs himielf before God an:l his own 
 heart. 
 
 In theiail moments of life, it is cert rhi ' hit we 
 ail wilh wa had lived more in Solituie, in a greater 
 intimacy with curfelves, ?nd ia a cl .f r communion 
 ivith God. Freii ;d by thrir recclletlion, v/e then 
 ■ clearl}^ perceii/e, that ail our faults have happened, 
 from not fiianning the fnares of the world ; from 
 not having kept a watchful eye yp:n^the wander- 
 ings of the heart, in the midft cf thole dangers by 
 which it was furroundcd. If we were to oppole the 
 fentiments of a foiitary m ir, who had pafTcd his 
 life in pious conference with God, to the ftntiments 
 which occupy the minds of diiTipatcd men, v*d:o 
 never think of their Creator, and fachfice their 
 whole exlftence to the erjoym-er.t of the moment ; 
 if we compare the chars&er of a Vvuc man, who 
 nfleSs in filance oa the importance of eternity, with 
 
^-4 ^'he Inf uence of ScHtude, 
 
 that of the fafnionable being, who coniu-mes all his 
 tiiTie at ridcttcs, balls, ar^d aiiemblies ; we fhall then 
 perceive that an incliiiation for SoHtiic^e, a dignified 
 retirement, a deure of having a ithct friend, and 
 3, rational fodety, caa al me alTord us true pleafure, 
 and give us, b yoad all die vain enj .:-yincn:s cf 
 the voiidj c. ; Johdon in death, and hopes of etcr-^. 
 iial life'. ,f 
 
 ii is, however, upon the bed of death that we 
 dif:ov:r^ more than in any other fituaiion, t- e 
 great diier^rcc becween t:? ju't man, who has 
 paffed his cays ii c. hn, rdigicu^ contemplaticn, 
 and the man of the world, whofe thoughts have 
 only bcv'^n empl:ycd to feed his paffions, and grati- 
 fy his clein-^s. A life p^iTed amicft the tumuituous 
 diflip?.ti n of the wcrld, even whenunfuUied by the 
 commilTiOn of any crime, concludes, al is ! v^ry dif- 
 ferently ironi that which has been Ipent in Sohtude, 
 in innoce.ice. in virtue* 
 
 As ex:i ; terches more eiitclually than pre- 
 cept, ?-S cuii n'y is mere ?hve to recent fa<51-s than 
 to remcle trarJ::ccions, I fhall here relate the hifiio- 
 tv of a man o^h: dly and fafiiion, who, a few years 
 fince, (hit hiiniVif in i^ondon ; from which it will 
 ap;ear, thnt rr. - n, poiieiTed ev^n of the berl felings 
 of the heart, may be rendered extremely miftrable, 
 by fufxering their principles to be corrupted by the 
 pradic.'S of the vvorli. 
 
 Tiie Honorable Mr. Darner, the eklefb fon of 
 Lord >>iit n, v/;- f v;-and-thiriy years of age when 
 he put a pcii ;J to h]?. exifience by means perfe^lly 
 correfp:);. dent to ihe principi rs on which he had hv- 
 ed. lie had eip uiea a rich hcirefs, the daughter- 
 indaw of General Conway. Nature had endowed 
 him with extraordinary talenrs j and if he had em- 
 ployed them to nobler purpofes, his death mufl have 
 made the deepeii inip: n every bofom. Un- 
 
 happily, howevjr, an].... ....luated love of difiipa- 
 
 tic:^ dvilroyed all the powers of his mind, and loms 
 
Ttx Injhicr.ce of ScFiiud^, ^ 
 
 1 he more excellent qualides of his heart. His 
 iifvfs, his carriige?, his hories, his liveries, fur- 
 in ir.agniEc.-nce and tle^rance every thing that 
 .Uumpmou?; in V.e nietrcpzlis of England. The 
 i :"cm ? h? ei!j':^yed was (plendid; but not being 
 :ii;e niliicie't to defray all his expences. he felt 
 iifeif under the necefTity cf borrcv/ing, and he 
 3t lined a Inn of one hundred and t\ven*y thcu* 
 id pounds. A hrge portion of the money was 
 mediately employed to fuccor thofe of his friends 
 ho ?-pp eared t3 be diftrefled; fnr his fentiments 
 , ere te::der and cornpallionate : but his ferdibiliif 
 t:^ the wants of others at length obHged him to open 
 l is eyes to h's o^-n, Tr.e fituation iQ which* he 
 f .und his aiBiirSj led him to defpair : he retired to a 
 brothel, fent for rhur w^men of the town, and pail- 
 e.i four r.ours with ir.fiiite gaiety and fpirits iri 
 i heu' company. O n the near approach of m"dn'ght, 
 lie requeice.i they v»^^uld retire; and in a few mo- 
 ments afterwards, drawing from his pccket a \o2(S 
 ed p'fto!, vvhxh he ha.^. carried about with him all 
 the aftern-^on, blew out his brains.- lie had p^ffH 
 the evening Vvdth thefe women in the fame m.anner 
 as he had been ufed to paft many others witii dif* 
 ferent women cf the fime defcription, without in- 
 fillm^ on f :v3rs which they would mofc willingly 
 have granted. J he common converfation of fuch 
 intervie-;/?, or at mo'1 the liberty of a falute, was 
 all he defired or expecled from them in return for 
 his money.' The gr.uitude he felt for the temporary 
 oblivion which thele intercourfes occafioned, ripen- 
 ed in his b jfom all tne feehngs of ihe wannell 
 friendChip. 
 
 A celebrated actrefs on the London theatre, 
 V7]\o^e cG'ivj^r/atisns had already dr.-ioed him cf ccn- 
 iiderable lurns of money, requafted cf him, only 
 three days before his death, to lend her nve-and- 
 twenty guireas. He returned an anfwer, that he 
 hid not at that tiine more than eight cr te j guineas 
 
 vvni) 
 
Z6 The Influence 6f Solitude, 
 
 at his commaai, and thefe he fent to her ; but he 
 immediately borrowed the remainder, and gave her 
 •the fum fhe required. 
 
 This unhappy young man, fhcrtly befors^ the 
 ftital .cataftrophe, had written to his f.ither, and dif- 
 clofed the re:il Hate of ris alTairs ; and the night, rhe 
 very night on which he terminated his exiftence, his^ 
 aiFedlijnate parent, the gocd Lord Miltcn, arnvedl 
 ill London, for the pnrpofe cf payin,'>; all the debts 
 of his fon. 'J-hus lived and diad this deiiitnte and 
 dillipated man ! How (Me rent fr-m the life and 
 xieath of the innocent r-nd virtuous 1 
 
 I trufl I fnall be forgiven in reciting here the 
 ilory of a Young Lady whofe raeuiory I am anx- 
 ious to preferve ; for 1 can v/ith great truth f\y of 
 her, ?s Petrarch fiid of his bcl )ved Laurn, The • 
 world is unacquainted with the excelleace of i.er 
 charaiTter ; for flie was only known to thofe \vhoDj 
 Jhe has left behind to bewail her fare." 
 
 Solitude in her mini fupplied the pla^e of the 
 world ; for fhe knew no other pleaCures than thole 
 "which a retired arid virtuous life affords. Submit- 
 ting wi'h pious refignation to all the difpenfaticns 
 cf Heaven, fhe -fu.'lained. rdthougii naturaUy of a 
 weak conllitution, ev .ry alE'crion v/ith undiminifh- 
 cd fortitude. Mild, g'^od, tender, yet enduring her 
 inieilant fuirerings without a murir.ur or a f'gh; 
 timid, referved, but difclofmg r.ll rh? feelings of her 
 IguI v/ith a kind of filial entiuifiafm; of thi^ de- 
 fciiption v/as the fuptrior character of whom Inov/ 
 write; a charac^rr who convinced me, by her for- 
 titude undrr the fevercfl misfcrtune-s, how nrach 
 {treng h Soli'ude is capable of corveving to the 
 raincis e^'en of the feebleil beings. Diffident of her 
 own powers, fhe relied with the mod perfe^l: confi- 
 dence upon God, and guided herfelf in every thing 
 by-my precfcp's. Taught by my experience, fub- 
 niitting to my judgment, fne felt for me the mcft 
 ..iurdcfii a2Uu : h , and, without making any prcfei- 
 
7J)c Lifiumce cf SolHiide* 
 
 (ions, convinced me by her anions of its finceiity. 
 Willingly v/oukl I have facrificed my life to lave 
 h -r; and I am fatisfied fhe would have given her 
 own for me. My greatcft happinefs cocfiiied in 
 doing every thing that I thought was moil agreea- 
 ble to her. She frequently prefented me with a 
 rofe, a prefent from which (he knew I received con-- 
 fiderable delight ; and from her hand it was fup3- 
 rior to rhe richefi: treafure. A malady of almofl a 
 fingnlar kind, a hcemorrhage of the lungs, fuddenly 
 deprived me of the comfort of this beloved child, 
 even while I ibpported her in my arms. Acquaint-' 
 edwith her comlitution, I immediately faw the 
 . blow was mortal. How frequently, during that fa- 
 tal day, did my woimded, bleeding heart bend me 
 on my knees before my God, to implore her reco- 
 very 1 But I concealed my feelings from her obfer- 
 vation. Although fenfible cf her danger^ fhe nev- 
 er communicatvd the leafl appreheniion. Smiles 
 arofe upr.n her cheeks vvhenever I entered or quit- 
 ted the chamber. Although worn down by this fa- 
 tal dillemper, a prey to the moft corroding griefs, 
 the Iharpeft and mofi intolerable pains, fhe made- 
 no complaint. She mildly anfwered all my quef- 
 tior.s by foine fhort fentence, but without entcrirg. 
 mto any det';.il. Her decay and approaching diiTo.- 
 luilon 1 ecanie ol^vieviS to the eye; 1 ut ta the lait 
 inoinent of h .r Tie, her counteriacce preftrvcd a 
 frrruity equai to the purity of her mind and the af- 
 ic61ic nate ten -'ernefs of her heart. 
 
 Ihns 1 l^thidd my de?r, rr.y only daughter,, 
 after a Imgcriiig fulierance of nitie loi^g months, ex- 
 pire in my arms !— Exchifive cf the uiual internal 
 appe-: ranees which attend a confuinpiicn cf the 
 iur;gs. the liver was extremely hrge, the ftomacli- 
 uncommonly fmall and contracted, and the vifc^ra. 
 much overch'.Tged. So many attacks, alas V were 
 needlcfs to the conqueit. She had been the fubmif- 
 fce victim of ill health from h.^r carlieft infancy. 
 
?8 The InfAicnce of Solittule, 
 
 hsr appetite was almoft gone when ihe left Switz- 
 erland ; ?. refidence which fhe quitted with her uiurd 
 f'westnefs of temper, and without difcoverinp^ the 
 fmidlefl regret, although a young man, ar. hcindfcme j 
 in his perfoQ ;:s he was amiable in the qualities of J 
 his mind, the cbje<5l of her fii-ft, her only aiieclion,"; 
 'A few weeks afterwards put an end to his exiflence ' 
 in defpair. 
 
 1 he f<;:w happv days we pafTed at Hanorer, 
 where fhe was rauch rcfpeffled and beloved, fhe 
 amufed herfeif by composing religious prayers, 
 which were afterwards foiind among her papers, 
 and in which fhe implores death to afford her a fpee- 
 dy relief from her pains : fhe wrote alio many let« 
 ters, always ai^edling, and frequently {'iiblime, dur- 
 ing the fame period. They were filled with expref- 
 f ions of th^ fame defire fpeedily to re-unite her foul 
 with the Author of her days. The lall words my 
 dear, my weil-be loved child uttered, amid the mcft 
 painful agoniesjwere thefe : "To- day! fnall tafte the 
 joys of heaven !'* 
 
 Weihouldbe unworthy of i his bright exam* 
 pie, after having feen the feverefi iiifterings fufcain- 
 ed by a female in the earlied pc-ricd cf life, and of 
 t::e weakeil conri itution by nature, if we permitted 
 our minds to be dejed&d by misfortunes, when by 
 the fm.ille.'b degree of courage we may be enabled 
 to furiinunt them. A female vvho under the an- 
 guilhof inexpreflible torments, never permitted ihe 
 i^gh of c smpiaint to elcape from her f ps ; but fuh. 
 rmtted with ffL-nc refig nation to the will cf Heaven, 
 hi h.?pe of meeting with reward hereafter* She 
 was ever aftlve,invariably mild, ab.vays comprffion- 
 ate to the miferies of others. But we, who have 
 before our eyes the fublime inflru^tions wiiich a 
 charader thus virtuous and noble has given us un- 
 der the prefTure of a fatal difeafe, uader the horrors 
 of continued and bitter agonies ; we, who like 
 her afnire to the aUuiuineiit cf the glvrioiaa 
 
"I'y hflvence of Mlivde, 
 
 feat of happinefs and peace, rcfufe to fiib- 
 mit to tr.e fmiUlefl: facrifice, miike ro endeavor to 
 c ppofe the ilorms of fortune by the exertion of 
 courage, or to acquire that patience and refjgnation 
 which a candid examination of our own hearts.and 
 a filent communion with God, would certainly af<. 
 ford. 
 
 Senfible and unfortunate beings 1' the lightefb. 
 ^ffll(5lions, when compared with griefs like mine, 
 ,drive you, at prefent, to difquietude and defpiiir. 
 But, you may give credit to experience, they will 
 eventually raiie your minds above the low confider- 
 ations of the wcrld, and give a ftrength to your 
 powers which you now conceive to be imponible. 
 You nov/ think yourfelves fuok into the deepeft 
 abyfs of fuffering and forrow ; but the time will 
 fcon arrive, wh^n ycu will perceive yourfelves in 
 that happy lituation which lies between an attach^ 
 ment to the earth and R fond devotion to Heaven. 
 Ycu will then feel a calm repofe, be fufceptible of 
 pleafures equally fubiiaaiial and fublime ; your 
 minds will be withdrawn from the tumultuous anx- 
 ieties of life, and filled with ferene and comforta- 
 ble fen timenis cf immortality. Bleffed, fupremcly 
 bleffed is that bting who knows the value of a lite 
 paffed in retirement and tranquility ; who is capa- 
 ble of erjoying the Clence of the groves, and the re- 
 tirement of rural Solitude. The loul then taiies cel- 
 eftial pleafures, even under the deepeft impreilions 
 cffjrrowaijd dejection ; regains its firength, ccl- 
 leccs new courage, and ad;s with perfed freedom. 
 I'he eye looks with fteadiiiefs on the tranlient fuf- 
 ferings of difeafe, the mind no longer feels a dread 
 of Solitude, and we learn to cuhivate, during the 
 remainder of our lives, a bed of rofes round even- 
 the tomb of death. 
 
The Influence tf ZoUiuch, 
 
 CHAP. m. 
 
 The Influence of Solitude cn the Mitid, 
 
 HE in£ilirri?.ble value of liberty can orly 
 be conceived by minds that are free. Slaves are 
 forced to be content even in their bondage. He 
 who has been long tcfled abou- by the vicifTitudes 
 of fortune ; who has learricd from ths fuiHrings 
 of Ins own experience to form a jufl eftimate rf 
 men and things ; who can examine every obje£l: 
 with impartiality : and, walki-::g in the freep and 
 narrow paths of virtue, derive h;.s happinefs frciii 
 his own mild, may be accounted free. 
 
 The p'^.th of virtue is, in foire places rugged ; 
 but it convkicls the mind from painful ('ifficuhics. 
 to fublime repofe, and gently carres us over the 
 acclivities of Ufe i:it^) the deligtufnl a^id extenfive 
 plaii2s of happinefs and eafe. '1 he Icve of 8. iitude^ 
 when cultivated to a certahi extent at an early pi- 
 I'lod of curhves, infpires the heart y^ith a noble in- 
 dependeace j efpecially in the hrji-rits of thcfe youti:s 
 whofe eafy, U;ic:rrupt3d f3uls are yet fufcepr.ble 
 cf virtuous impreiliors ; it is to fuch cliaratlers 
 i^Ione that my precepts can prove ufeful : it is to 
 fuch characters alone I here pretend to point out the. 
 way which leads to true felicity. 
 
 I do not, b Avever, wifh to condu.ri: ihem thro'" 
 th? paths of mifery to the retreats cf Solitude, but 
 would rat'xr induce them to feek re tir em.ent from a. 
 d"'ilike to diinpation, a diliafie to the idle pleafures 
 of life, a contempt for the treacherous pr. feffion cf 
 the world, a dread of beirg fcduced by its iniinua- 
 ting and deceitful gait-tlrs. 
 
 Mc»ny men have acquired and experivmced in 
 ScV.tu^'ethat fupmcr.ty of genius wbxich enables 
 its poiTefT^jrs to coiniDaiid events. Like the majef- 
 
The Irjfitencs f SolitiL-fe. f?y 
 
 ■ : cedar which braves the fu^y cf the w'-lier: wind, 
 iherc are many chan pior.s of vir.u= who have re- 
 fiiied in rerirf ment th-e ftcrrns cf vice. It has in- 
 desd happened, that f:.me men h-ave retained even 
 in Solitud;! ail the v/cakneil-.-s cf human nature ; 
 but there are alio r?.anv others who have proved 
 that wife men caiynot beccrne degenerate even in 
 the mofl dreary feclufion. Vifited by the auguft 
 fpirltc of the drad,left to lilt en to taeir ov/n th.uights, 
 and feduded from tr.e fight of every breathing ob- 
 jecc, they mufl converfe with God alone. 
 
 There are tv/o periods of life in which Solitude 
 becomes peculiarly u refill ; in yciirh, to acquire a 
 fund of uieful information, to form tre outline cf 
 the character we mean to fupp: rt, and to fix (he 
 modes of thinking we ougHt tbrouvh life invaria- 
 bly to purfue : in age, to cafe a ret rofpedive eye 
 on the courfe cf life we have led, to rcfl^cl on the 
 events that have happened^ upon all the flowers wa 
 have gatr.ered, upon ail tne tempells we have fur- 
 vived. 
 
 Lf~ird Bolingbroke f.^ys, that there is not a 
 deeprr nor a finer obfervatir n in all lord Baccn^S 
 works than the foUowiag, We Eiud chocfe be- 
 times fuch virtiious ohj^^s as are proportioned to 
 t'-.e means we have c f piuiuing th-in, and as belong 
 par;icuhrly to xhejathis we are in, and the cudes 
 cf thcfe (tatij-ns. We mail: dctermim and f.x our 
 in!rr.:!s in fuch manner lipt n them, that the purfuic 
 cf thfem may become the hufmcfs^ the attainment cf 
 them, the endo^ cur whoh lives.* Thus we in. 11 
 imijate the gre?.t cperations of nature, and net the 
 feeble, flov/, and irnperfecl: operaticns of ai't. We 
 muft not proceed, in forming the moral character, 
 ?-s a flatuarv proceeds ia forini?'g a ftatue, vrho 
 works fometim^s on the face, lbm.etiines cn one 
 
 •' Lord Bslingbrclcc, in hi?** Idea of a Patri'^t King:," has par^ 
 aphraled the or>ginai, Ut cojuinuo vercat rttffoimec fe an'n>.UF> 
 una opera, in vJrrutes," in order :o apolj it v/uh greater cfitii to the 
 eccdlio.'i for which he (juotes it. 
 
The Injluenee tf Mttude. 
 
 p^rt, and foinetlmes cn another ; but we muft pro- 
 
 ceed,and it is i i our power to proceed as nature does 
 in forming afiovver,oranyotherof her proJuctioRs; 
 rudirnenta pOrrtium minium ftmul farit ct producit \ fhe 
 throws cut altogerj^er *.r.d at CRce the whole fyflem 
 of every beirg.and the ru(;imentsof all (he pirts/' 
 Ye amiaole yeuths, from whofe minds the ar- 
 tifices and gaiedes of the world have not yet obht-- 
 erated the precepts of a virtuous education ; who 
 are not yet infected with its ir<glcricus vanities y 
 who, ilill ignorant of the tricks and blandifhnients 
 of feduftion, have preferved in your fouls the defire 
 to p:/rforra fome glorious a(n:ion, and retained the 
 power to accomplifh it ; who,^in the midfi; of feaii- 
 ing, dancing, and alTemblies, feel an inclination to 
 efcape from their linfatisfa^ii'jry delights. Solitude, 
 will aiicrd you a fafe afiduiti. Let tre voice of ex^ 
 psrience recommend you to cultivate a fondnefs for 
 dcme'iic pleafures, to roufe and fortify your fouls 
 to noble deeds, to acquire that fine and noble fpirit 
 wnich teaches you to elliinate the characters of men- 
 and the pleafures of fDciety, by their intrinfic value. 
 
 You will find it abiclutely neceffary to force 
 yourfelves from a world too trifling acd infjgnifi- 
 cant to atlord you any gre;it examples. It is iniiud- 
 ying the characters of the Greeks, the Romans, 
 the Englifh, that you mmx learn to iurmouat every 
 difHcLilty. In what nation will you find more cel- 
 ebrated iafiances of human gr^atnefs ? What peo- 
 ple poiTefs more valour and courage, more finmefs, 
 more knowleJge, a greater love for the arts and 
 fcicnces ? Eur do not deceive yourfelves, by believ- 
 ing that wearing hair cut fix>rt will make you 
 Englijbmen, Ycu mult, iniiead of that, eradicate 
 the vices, fubdue tiie wecknefTes of your nature. 
 
 It is ihe love of hberty, the qaalities of courage, 
 pene^rariop., fubliiiiiiy of fentiments, and frrength- 
 of reafvn, that-conrutut^ the true EngHfiman^ ai^d 
 
 and only imitate them in thei 
 
The Irfluence of SrJituJe, 
 
 rot their ralf boots and jockey hats. Tt h virtue 
 alone, and not titles^ that elevate the charadlers of 
 men. iVn iiluilricus defcent is certainly an advan- 
 tage, but not a merit. I honor you for hdvin^ 
 already farmed n. proper eft: mate of thefe fpIeRuid 
 trifles, fvir biiving already lei^med that he who ven- 
 erates fuch htrle objefts can" rever attoiin to great- 
 uefs. Let women only hoafi of heredit?.ry defcent, 
 cf a lino of anceftors, v/ho, during a courfe of cen- 
 turies, were perhaps diftinguifhed from the refi: ef 
 mankind merely by the fplendcr of their equipage, 
 while the humble citizen was forced to fciiow on 
 foot. In tracing your genealogies, reckcn thofe on- 
 ly among the number of your aacefiors who have 
 performed Ibme great and glorious aclion, whofe 
 fame fhines vntri briiliaiicy iu every pags of their 
 country's hiltory, and ^^hofd char^<Sl-ers are cited 
 with applaufe and admiration in diibnt nations ; 
 but never lole fight of this important tru,th, that no 
 one can be truly great without a knowledge cf 
 himfelf. 
 
 In yeur journey through life, two ways lie 
 cpen to your choice. The one will conduct ycu 
 to a fragi-ant garden, through dehghtfui groves, 
 perfumed with the fweeteft odours, where a ver- 
 dant bed, bedecked h rofes, will invite yourin-» 
 chanted fenfesto a foft repofe ; this is the path cf 
 pleafure which the mul itude are eafily frduced to 
 follow, and v/here -muiic, dancing, and love, offer 
 to ei^ery fenfe fuch variety of delight. The other 
 is a lefs frequen'ed way, rugged and uneven, the 
 progrefs through it flow — wr.ere, while the v/earied 
 piifteiiger toils along, he frequently tumbles down 
 feme dangerous precipice, which to him appeared 
 at greater difta^ice. Here the cries cf fav?.ge ani- 
 mals clone are h ^ard, the inCv^lTant croaking of the 
 boding raven, the fnyrp and fliivering hiiles of the 
 wilv ferpent; and the fiient, unbounded defart 
 which rcig;is arcuud, icfpire the mind with terror 
 
^4 Influence of Solitude, 
 
 and alTrig^^t. The path of pleafure leads us to iher 
 world i the rude and rugged way is the read to 
 honor. The one ccndufts you through fociely to 
 places and employments either in the city or at 
 court ; the other, fooner or later, will lead you in- 
 to Solitude. Upon the one road you will perhaps 
 become a villain ; a villain rendered dear and ami- 
 able by your vice to fcciety. Upon the ether road, 
 it is true, you may be hated and defpifed ; butycu- 
 will become a man ; a man after my own heart. 
 
 The rudiments of a great character muft be 
 formed in Solitude. It is there alone that the fo- 
 lidity of thought, the fondnefs of sftivity, the ab- 
 horrence of indolence, which conliitute tl:e hero 
 and the fiige, are fini acquired. Many celebrated 
 Germans of my acquaintance lived folitary lives,- 
 unconr;e<fled with fociety, during their rcfidence atr 
 the Uaiverfity. Tliey fhunned the fafhionable vi-. 
 ces of the collegians, and preferved their native pu- 
 rity ; they adopted a ftoicrfra, and preferved not 
 only their cha) city, but their application to ftudy,. 
 They are now become miniflers of ftate, celebrated 
 writers, and great philofcphers, who have difFufed 
 wifdom, banifhed prejudice, and from their earlieft 
 youth opened new roads in life utterly unknown 
 to vulgar minds. 
 
 A tribute of the h'gkefc gratitude is due to the- 
 noble chara(51:er who has obi'erved, '* When ycu 
 behi ld a youth of lid parts withdrav/ himlelf from 
 thi woria, fall into a lew and melancholy humor, 
 become fibnt in company, and tellify by the le- 
 verity of his manners and ccidneis cf his feeling?, 
 that the contempt'. "tie brings v/i'.h whom he has af- 
 fociated have ir.fpired his ilul with difguft ; if you 
 perceive that his mind emits its rays I ke flafiies cf 
 lightning m the obfcurity of a dark^ night, and 
 then falls into a long and filent calm ; if you difco- 
 v.r that he feels himfelf fiirroundeJ by a painful 
 i^old, and that every objed which prefents itfc-if 
 
The ' Irtpueme cf Sola t,\ h, f ; 
 
 ©nl? infpires his miii'l with new ^.verficn and dif- 
 guft ; you '.hen b':'hold, notwlthflanding hekas not 
 openly' complahied, an happy planr, v/h:ch only re- 
 quir.-3 the cultivaiiori of a jiulijious hand to bring 
 tonh its fi'uits, and d'T-h-i'^^ its beaut'e?. O ! ap- 
 ply to it 3 follering It will becrme worthy 
 cf your kind^.sfG : ?.nd he who flops th3 progrefs of 
 its iife, is tlie^ moP: detdlab'ie cf murdtrcrs." 
 
 To rsar a youch of this drf:ripti jn wj'iild form 
 th2 joy and pleifii'a of my future days, I would 
 nourilh hiTi in my v^ry he?!rt. I would watch over 
 him with th-- tender ell c^re. I would conceal his 
 growing virtues from th? j ?abus and inrlignancob- 
 iervaiion of envious eyes; prevent their endeavors 
 to fuppref^ the eScrrs cf a geriius furpailir-g ti:eir 
 ov/n ; and with a fiogle whifper I w .uLi drive away 
 thofe noxious venxin, enervate .i and infipid men 
 of f afnion, from my he-dthfui plant. If, however, 
 iu:h an amiable youth did not imm.ediately liften to 
 my voice, and become obe.^ient to my precepts ; if 
 he did not edtogcthtr dciplie the manners of the 
 world, I would let him ccc^lionally fiil among t':e 
 rocks of life, and permit him to be gently wrecked 
 in fituations w^hereexpsrien e, deli':ient of the pow- 
 ers cf youth, wouLi have ef:aped from danger. 
 
 Solitude fometimes begets a degree of airo- 
 gance and obftinacy ; but a iittle experience in the 
 world foon er.-dicates thefe defe^i:^. The mifan- 
 thr:py of thefe noble youths, their contempt of fol- 
 ly ai.d their pride of fpirir, change by the maturity 
 of age into dignity cf character, and give them a 
 mere generous it'itrepidity, a more exalted cotitempt 
 cf thv.t fear which youth naturally entertain in the 
 fociety of men. The fatires they once dreaded then 
 iofa all their keennef*?, and only form a coiitr.^fl of 
 what things are with what they ought to be. Their 
 contempt for vice rifes into a noble enthuiiafm for 
 •vh-tue ; and they exir^cTt from the long iatellectual 
 •WvU: of experience a complete knowledge of th« 
 
96 The hfiicnce of Solitude* 
 
 world, and a compaffion-ite feellrgv/hich, however 
 it may occs-fionaliy Iw^ rve, w-ll never die. 
 
 But there is alfo a Ic'eace of the hesrt too fre- 
 quently neplicte:!, and with which it is nrxefi-^ry, 
 at ieail as far as it is pv^fhldv^. to fimiliarife cnrrelves 
 in early youth. Tnis is the noble fcif nee of philo- 
 fophy, which forms the characters of mec, v/hich 
 teaches vis to attnlii the end we wifl:! rather by the 
 biandifhine-its of love than by th eiil rts of power ; 
 a fcience which correclr. the ccid dilates cf reafoa 
 by the warm feelings of the hep.rt, opens to vif w 
 the d?.ngcrs t-^ v/iiich l-'ey are expofed, r.nimates the 
 dormant {'icnllier, cf t^e ir'w-i^ aud prompts thtm to 
 the practice cf all he virrues. 
 
 Dion had been brought up In all the bafencfs 
 and fervili y of courts; he w.^.s accuilomed to a 
 fife of ibftnefs an.i eitenfmacy, and, which is more 
 pernicious, to allu of greai uiagnificence.profufion, 
 and pieafure cf every kind : but no f^oner had he 
 read the divine Plato. ! o fooner had he tailed of 
 that r.^fiaed philof -phy which leacfs to a life of vir- 
 tue, than his v/hole foul became deeply enamcred 
 of its charms. 
 
 The inrpiraiiou vrhich Dion caught from read- 
 ing the v/orks cF Fiato, every mother may filently, 
 ?.nd unprrccived, pour ic<-o t he mind cf her child, 
 Fhilcf'.phy, from the I'.ps of a wife and fenficle mo- 
 ther, penetrates icto the inir.d tlu'cugh the feelings 
 of the heart. Who is not fxad of walking even 
 through the rcug'^efl: and v:i<\ difficult path, whc-n 
 conduci:ed by the i.and they l. *ve ? What fpecies cf 
 iailruclion Cc- a excel the fv.'e si ieffons which proceed 
 from a female mind endowed with a found under- 
 fi.anding, an elevated flylc of thinking, and whofe 
 heart feels all the alTeftion that her precepts ii'fpTe ? 
 Oh 1 may every mother {0 endowed, be bleffei with 
 a chdd who fondly retires with her to her cl:fet, 
 and liniens with delight to her inflruclbns : who, 
 widi a book ia ui;^ pockety loves to climb among 
 
The influence of Soufude* pj 
 
 the rocks alone ; who, when engaged in rural fpDrt, 
 throws hlmielf at the foot of fome venerable tree, 
 and feeks rather to trace out great and illuftrious 
 characters in the pages of Plutarch, than to toil for 
 game in t'he thickets of the furrounding wood. 
 The wiflies of a mother are accompliflied when the 
 Solitude and filence of the forefts excite fuch. 
 t'loughts in the mind of her beloved child ;* whea 
 he begins to thmk that there are flill greater cha- 
 raclsrs than the Burgomafter and counfellor of the 
 town, or even than the noble Lord of the furround- 
 ing villages ; charaft^rs who enjoy more pure and 
 elevated pleafures than the gaming-table or affem- 
 blies are capable of affording ; characters who at 
 .every interval of leiiure feek the fhades of Solituda 
 with rapture sud delight ; in whofe minds the love 
 of literature and philofophy has dwelt from their 
 ^arlieft infancy.; whofe hearts thefe {Indies have 
 warmed and animited at every fubfequent period 
 of their lives ; and v/ho amidll the greatelx dangers 
 preferve that delightful tatte which has power to 
 banilh melancholy from th'^ deepell cavern, and de- 
 jection from the mplt frightful defjrt. 
 
 But fuppofe a fon thus educated at length .fix- 
 ed in the metrop'^lis ; think how every phjeO: muft 
 excite difgufl in his b'reafi:, and render h:m unhappy* 
 it is therefore proper to inftru^t him, that a wife 
 and feiifible man, whatever may be his fituation in 
 life, his age, or the country he inhabits, may find 
 in Solitude innumerable refources againft the infi- 
 pidity of fociety, and all the falfe and deceitful joys 
 of the world. 
 
 The provincial tov/ns poffefs many advantages 
 over great and popular cities, by bringing us back 
 to a knowledge of ourfelvcs. With what fuperior 
 
 * Mirum eft," (fays the youngcj Pliny) " ut onimes agitatione 
 motuq'je corporis excitetur. Jam undique filvse et Solitudo, ipforum- 
 que iifiud fjlentiuU; q^iod venationi dacyr, ma^na cogitationis inciu- 
 jueota funt." 
 
 (iX) 
 
9$ The hifdime &f Mf-ude, 
 
 pleafure do we pafs our time, how mudi more lei- 
 fore, liberty, and quietude we erjoy in an humble 
 village, than in a great city, where the mind is con- 
 tinually diilraQed by t©o great variety of ol:je6k ! 
 Here we live contented with ourfelves, without be- 
 ijig every morning tormented with a numl er of 
 -meffages, by inceiO^ant propofals of feme new fcheme 
 to kill the day. Here we are not neceflitated to 
 facrifice every dcmeilic care, all the occupations of 
 the Kiiod,.even the fweet converfe of thofewelove^ 
 to endlefs villts. The quietude of rural retirement 
 affords us opportunity to follow the courfe of our 
 fentimenrs and ideiSj to examine wheiher they are 
 juft, before we determine our ch'- ice ; in great ci- 
 ^fies, on the contrar3", men a£l: firft, and reflecl on 
 their conducl afterwards. In a village, the im- 
 preffions we receive are more lively and prcfcund ; 
 whilB: in great cities, time is entirely employed to 
 create amufements v/hich vanifh the moment they 
 are approached ; the bofom enjoys no repofe, and 
 while it fighs for refl, the hops, defire, ambition, 
 duty, languor, difgufl, and coutrition which it eter^ 
 nally feels, drive it for ever away. 
 
 But the minds of thofe who have retired to the 
 calm fcenes of rural life, are frequently as vacant 
 and defertcd as the hamlets in which ihey live ; and 
 tkey find the leifure, the happy leifure which they 
 enjoy without knowing its value, tedious and irk- 
 fome. There are, inde;ed, very few who have ac- 
 quired the art of renierixng Solitude ufeful and ra- 
 tional. Men of rank proudly fancy that their ho- 
 nor would be degraded by the company of ruilics, 
 and, in confequence cf this miflaken idea, prefer a 
 life of conftrainti avoid z\\ intercourfe, and live in 
 fplendid languor, rather than enjoy a free and happy 
 life with rational and honed peafants. They ought 
 to adopt a conduct diredly the reverfe, efpecially 
 wheu they are difcoEtented with themfelves : tbev 
 ought to iQi^ fsDailiurly in the company of all honeft 
 
the Lifiuence of SoUiude, 9^ 
 
 men, and acquire the efteem of every one by theif 
 kindnefs and attention. — The lowliefl: clown, cap?> 
 l>le of communicating a new thought, or of railing 
 one agreeable fentiment in tb.e mind, is on that ac* 
 count a very inierefting compauion to a man who 
 is at a lofs how to employ his time, who is torment- 
 ed by vexation and ill-humor. Thofe to whom 
 time is a burden, fhould not defpiie even the hum-- 
 blefl character ; and in the rural retreat, the (hep- 
 rerd and the kii^g fnould live on equal terms, for- 
 get the paltry dcftrines of birth, and all the prejn* 
 dices which the m.anners of the world have ri^iled 
 refpe (Sting the diiTercnce of their fituaticn. Thi's 
 conduct would at leafl be mere pleafirg than to hear 
 a rUaic reproaching the venality cf the nobility, 
 only becaufe the gentlemen of his neighborhcod re- 
 fufed to admit him into their company. 
 
 The ooly way, as it appears to me, by which 
 men of diP>:ir.(^ion can live happily in the country, is 
 to adapt themfelves peaceably and affably to every 
 one ; to feel and to exercife an univerfal attenticn 
 and kind concern fcr the comfort cf others, ard to 
 grant them as much of their time and converfatioa 
 as they fhall thir.k proper. 
 
 It is im.poilible to conceive what advantage^ 
 the mind gains in the Solitude of a fequeflered vil- 
 la!7e, v/lien it once begins to feel difguii at the tire- 
 fome interccurfes of the great wcrld. Life is \\i> 
 where fo completely enj-yed ; the happy days cf . 
 ycut'i are no v. her ^^ m.';re ad va .tage ruOy emplry^ed ; 
 u r?.tional iHir.d can no whc-re iind gn*ater cpportu*. 
 nides cf emplrying its time; the da':gr-rs even of 
 Schtude itielf ara no uhere f'^.oner k-arne ; or more 
 eiiily avoide.i. Eveiy litile village may be coniider^ 
 ed as a convent, w er^ a iincll f. cieiy of pevfoi^s-, 
 diftant and detiched fr-m t'^e world, are confii^ed 
 to lew k^eas ; where, for that reafon, the p-^^llio'^s 
 cf the wicked ferment and diicharge themfches 
 with greater force ; and wliere the calm and koneft 
 
loo The Influence of Solitude* 
 
 minds muB: aiTociate with congenial chara£i:ers, tie 
 retire to Soiitude in their humble cells. 
 
 Small towns refemble each other ia certain ma- 
 terial points, and only differ in the manner by whi-;h 
 they are governed. The mind is never fubjecled to 
 ;i more odious tyranny t!:an that which prevails in 
 thefe little republics ; where not only the rich citi- 
 zen erefts himfclf into a proud mailer over his lefs 
 wealthy equals, but where the contracted notions 
 of this little delpot become, if unoppofed, thefbmd- 
 ard of reafcn to all the town* 
 
 The members of fmall repubkcs care only for 
 themfelves, and feel little anxiety about any thing 
 that paHes beyond their own limits. The all-pov/- 
 erfui and imperious governor confiders his little ter- 
 ritory as the univerle. His breath alone decides 
 every queftion that is prcpofed at the Guiid-Hall ; 
 and the reft of his time is wholly occupied in main- 
 taining his authority over the minds of his feliow- 
 ciiizeiis, in relating anecdotes of families, circulating 
 fuperilitious tales, tiuldng of the price cf corn, the 
 collecdon of tythes, the rent cf his m.anors, hay- 
 harveft, vintage-tim?, cr the next marker. Next 
 to God, he is within his own httle town t: e great- 
 efl man upon the face of the earth. The humble, 
 honeft citizen Hands v/ith fear and trembling in the 
 prefeace of his redoubtable majefly ; fer he knows 
 tnat he is able to ruin him by an immediate procefs. 
 The v/rath of an upflart m.agiitrate is more terrible 
 than the thunder cf Heaven ; for this foon paiTes 
 nway, but th it remains for ever, 'i he good judg- 
 es of a provincial town raiie their proud heads, and 
 look down with contempt on the liumble fuitors ; 
 govern, order, cenRrre, and condem;^, without re- 
 gard to truth or juf-ice ; and their approbation or 
 dillike eitabliflies in credit, or conhgns to infamy.' 
 
 The inhabitants of thefe towns are in general 
 much addidied to Law : an attorney is in their eyes 
 the brigh^eft genius j the facred voice of tleafon i> 
 
Tks hifdUYice of Solitude, 
 
 _ an empty found ; in vain fhe cries aloud, for they 
 only believe that right which the court of juflice 
 fhill decree. If one among them fhould abfenC 
 himfelf from' their meetii^gs, an J, yielding to reflec- 
 tion, ihould think and a£i: with hber^lity or candor, 
 they fufpe<^l: him of fome intention to impofe on 
 them ; for, except in the rehgious order, they have 
 no idea of a fludious m.iv\\ and language will net 
 furnifh any word expreffive of the high contempt 
 in which they hold a literary chara^ler. They are 
 ignorant that reafon and fuperftition are contradi6lory 
 terms. The man who fmilts at their credulhy in 
 believing that fome misfortune is impending, ' be- 
 caufe an hen has laid her egg before their door, a 
 crow has croaked upon the chimney-top, or a mouft^ 
 has run along the floor, cannot, in their idea, pof^ 
 fefs the leaf!:' religion. They are yet ignorant that 
 men are no longer coofidered free-thinkers, for 
 humbly doubting whether the frequent fpots in lin- 
 en announce the death of ibnie beloved relation. 
 They know not, ahs! that it is poffible to become 
 ferviceable to mankind, without having ever opened 
 their lips in the town-hall ; and that, at all events, 
 they m^y hereafter be neticei by the really great 
 
 ' and good, notwithRanding they have happened to 
 incur the difpleafure of the great men in their little 
 to\yn. Tliey are unconfcious that there are men 
 of independent fpirits in the world, and that ther 
 are the only beings who would fo tamely endure 
 a mean fubmifliou to the little t^^aut of rhsir pocir ^ 
 domain. Thsy do not feel that 'an honeft man will 
 ouly bow before the Deity himlelf, only fubmit to 
 the laws of his country, only reverence fuperior 
 t?Je:it?, obey virtue, refpc 61 merit, and imileat the 
 \ain v/rath and ludicrous appearance of the provin- 
 cial magiftraie, whenhs receives him in anger with 
 his h;t upon his head. They do not perceive that 
 Slander, the common f:ourge of every country- 
 towHj is only the vice of thofe narrow minds wl;a 
 {IX2) 
 
The Infliiencs ofSoUtiide* 
 
 vifit their neighbor merdy to fpy cut his errcr?, 
 and report with increafed malevclence whatever 
 they can find v/rong, either in his hoiife, his kitch- 
 en, cr bis cellar. In fliort, they who are ignorant 
 of fo many things, cannot be apprifcd, that they 
 would loon tire of the idle talk and chatter cf a 
 country town ; that they would no longer amufe 
 themfeives in picking out their neighbor's faults,, 
 if they were once acquainted v/ith the advaotagcs 
 of Solitude ; with what a noble ardor they would 
 boldly proceed through the road of fcir r.ce, and, 
 fuperior to the meannefs of envy, free from the 
 difgrace of calumny, would Itddily purfue the path 
 of virtue with hardinefs and vigr^r. 
 
 A determined refolution to lead a life of Scli- 
 tude is the oiiiy remedy that can be adopted in a 
 £t nation hke this. An univerfld philanthropy for 
 the world will net filence the tongue cf envy ; for 
 even to fuch a conduct the world will alw'ays im- 
 pute interefr.ed motives ; we murn tiierefore Jive 
 without afFi rding fuch opportunities to calumny, 
 and, with the exception of thofe whom v/e love 
 and revere, turn our backs on the reli of man- 
 kind. 
 
 A virtuous young man, who perhaps afpires 
 to advance himfelf in lifL', will not in the world 
 find the lead affifiance. In no one cf the fafhiona- 
 ble circles will he meet with iriformaiion or encou- 
 ragement ; he will nei-her make himfelf known nor 
 beloved ; and if he fhculd excite attention, he will 
 not be underiiood ; the;/ will confider him as a 
 weak, ridiculous chara&r, wlio, in^ead cf feeking 
 by adulation to gain the i -.terefl: of tha great and 
 Dowerful, prefers the pleafure of writing or reading 
 by himieif. In v.dn has he been reared in the bo- 
 fom cf a liberal and erlightened family ; in vain 
 has he receive -^l his education among the nobleft 
 ch2r?<fi:ers ; in vaij, 2 re his principles eflablifhed by 
 a correfpondeace witii the. belt aud moit karnea 
 
The Influence of Solitude, lo.if 
 
 pV ilol^^phers of the ?.ge ; for thefe advantages only 
 altord greater inducement to cpprefs his a<51:ivity 
 and ilop his courfe. 
 
 Does the ear hear or the heart feel all this ia 
 a provincial town, to which the refineinents of the 
 metropcKs have not yet fpread? What, man will 
 Gontinue to patronize him, unleis he becomes dex- 
 trous in- affording ufeful accommodation to thofein 
 whofe hands the v/ncle power refides ; from viiioni 
 alone huDger can receive broad, or indu.'^cry procure 
 employment ; to whcfe will every thing is fubmit- 
 ted ; who dired: and govern every movemen t ; and 
 by whole nod, honor, fiine, elb:em., are conferred 
 or taken away ? His mind muft cautioufly conceal 
 the fuperiority of its knowledge ; his eyes it:Ujl ap- 
 pear blind to what he fees ; his heart feem fenielels 
 of what he feels \ he mufl: conftantly li^-en to a 
 loofe and frothy converfaticny during v/hici^^ how- 
 ever fatiguing it may be, he is denied the privilege 
 of yawning, and is ruined forever, if, by hisfiience, 
 he permits the fhadow of diiTati?ficti?on to appear. 
 He will be defpifed as a m.an of lenfe and ur.der- 
 ftanding, notwirhltanding he ufes every endeavor 
 to be thought otherwife,* Surrounded by fo much 
 deformity, both he and his friends might blufh for 
 v/ant of that difdnguiniing emi'^ence upon the back, 
 but that he hears them gravely talk at the Hotel da 
 Viile upon the important care of a iiable, much of- 
 tenfr than they meet in London and rerfadles to de- 
 cide upon the fa'e of Europe ; and muft fic with as 
 much attention to h:ar them argue upon the right 
 of a partition- wah, as if he was placed in the fvnod 
 of the^ gods* Perceiving, therefore, thatpretr.m.p- 
 tion, ignorance, and proud nup'diry are infvni'.eiy 
 ia higiier eidmation than tiie noblell; exercife of 
 reafcn ; that n^n cf the dullen: npprehenlions are 
 
 * " A man with an enlightened mind," fays Helvetius, " with 
 f.'hatever addrefs he may conceal his cliarailer, can nevci io ex^idljit 
 rctemble a foo] as a fyol rcfeinbics liimieli.". 
 
I04 The Influenct of Solitude » ^ 
 
 the m ")ri: forward and impudent ; that their v?jn 
 and idle boailings alone model the wit and dire£l 
 the opinion of the day ; that envy fafcens itfelf molt 
 inveieratdy upon the enFghtened and well-inform- 
 ed ; that phihibphyis confidered as a contemprible 
 deliriiini, aiid Ui/erty mift.iken for a fpirit of re- 
 volt. ; perceiving, in iliort, th:t it is impcflihle to 
 fucceed, uniefs oy means of the moft fervile com^ 
 pl:-ii[-mce. and the mod degrading fubmifTion, what 
 can lave a fenfi'de and ingenuous vouth from the 
 perils of fucii a I'eene, but Solitu ie ? 
 
 Trie p jor p^et Martial,* on his return to Bibi* 
 lis, the piice of nis catlvity, in Spain^ after having 
 lived thirty-four years among the raoft learned and 
 enlightened men of Rome, found nothing but a 
 dreary defirt, a frightful Solitude. Unable to form 
 a fcciet}' whic'i could affard him the fmallefl: plea* 
 fur*, a painful languor pr ryed upon his mind. For^ 
 ced to aiiociate vvivh perf ns who felt no pleafure 
 in the elega;at delights of literature, who pofelTed 
 no ku'jwledge of the fciences, he fighed inceliantly 
 to re-vTit the beloved metropolis where he had ac- 
 quired fu"h univerial fpjue aad rpprobation ; where 
 h's good fen'e, his penetration, his fagacity were 
 prailed ; where his writings were promifed imraor- 
 taPty by the admiration of the younger Pliay, to 
 whoja they appeared to pollefs equ^ (harpnefs, wit 
 aad eafe ; whilil, on the contrary, in the fiupid 
 t jwn of Blbilis his fame on:/ acquired him that 
 whic-i in imall cities will ever attend an excellent 
 characler, envy and contempt. 
 
 in g.-i rral, however, in all fmall towns, the 
 min-1 re: ains by occalional Solitude that which it 
 has b/'^ by its corajnerce with tha world. If it be 
 sbiolurely neceffary that you fhould be abfurd 
 thirough poli.enefs, and blind v/ith your eyes com- 
 
 * AcccdU his," (fa-ys Mart"u'^ hi the Preface to the Twelfth 
 Bosk of bis Epigramf ) " munkipaljum r'ubigo deutium rijudicii Iocq 
 Dvor — aJvcifue GUijd dlnicUc at hwajsie quotidie beau© ftoaaachiua.". 
 
The Influence of S>Glitude, r o^ 
 
 pictely open ; ii', in the infipld circles of fafhion* 
 yea ar2 obliged to conceid your ideas, and labdu^ 
 your feelings ; if you are forced ro liflen with at- 
 tention to that which you would rather be deaf th:an 
 hear ; if you muvl: be chained to the flavery of the 
 gaming-table, altl.ough there is punifhment to 
 you fo It vera ; if every happy thought nuilt be 
 flrangled in its birth, all brilliancy of expreflion fup- 
 preffed. the looks of love concealed, and honelt 
 truth diiguifed ; if your whole lime muit be devo-' 
 ted to p^e^iie characlers w^ho are ignorant of ycur 
 merit — O refiect ! — that in fuch a fi< nation t'p.e 
 enervated fpirit lies buried in cold obfcurity, ^llks 
 the fire in the flint untouched by iieel ; that your 
 foul may languifh many years in this dangerous 
 apathy ; and, making a noble effort, fly from the 
 feafts and coteries of your corrupted city, retire? 
 into the tranquillity of domeftic comfort, feek the 
 filence of the groves, live in the fociety cf your owni 
 heart, and tal-te, as your reward,, the charms cf that 
 ineftimable liberty which you have fo long uegled:- 
 ed to obtain. 
 
 Freed from the v/orld, the veil which dimmed 
 the fight w^ill immediately vanifli ; the clouds which 
 obfcured the light of realbn dKappear ; the painf ul 
 bur (hen which oppreHed the ibul is alleviated ; we- 
 no longer wi*eiTie with misfortunes, becaufe we 
 know how to foften them ; we no longer murmur 
 againfl the difpenfations of Providence, but refie^f 
 with calmnefs and ferenity on the advantages we 
 have derived from Sohtude. The contented hrart 
 focn acquires the habit of patience ; every corro- 
 ding care files from our breafls on the wings of 
 gaiety ; and on every fide agreeable and interefting 
 icenes prefent themfelves to our view : the brilliant 
 fmi finking behind the lofty mountains, tinging 
 their fnow-crowned fammits v/ith gold ; the feath- 
 ered choir haf[ening^to th*ir molTy homes, to ralte 
 the fwccts of calm repofe \ the proud crowing of 
 
1 c6 The Infiience of SoIift:de, 
 
 the an^orous cock ; the (low march of the oxen 
 returnmg from their daily toil ; tiie noble activity 
 of the generous Ilea J : furVounded by fach objedls, 
 we receive the vilits of ititruders with an open air^ 
 and. provided they do not too frequently interrupt 
 the pl?;ihres of cur retreat, we reconcile our hearts 
 to all mankind- 
 
 But it is iiill more necefiary to fave ourfelves 
 from the dangers of the metropolis than from thofe- 
 of the provincial tov/ns. The follies and vices of 
 high lite are much more contagious than thofe of 
 the fimple citizen. How foon tne fiieft beams of 
 ths imagination die away ! How foon does good- 
 nefs ioie its power where fenfe and truth are con- 
 flantiy defpif'sd ; where flrong and energetic minds 
 inipire avcrfion ; and the virtues are thrown afide 
 as an inconvenient and opprclfive yoke ! How foon 
 does the human raiad become weak and fuperficial, 
 when fepa rated from thofe by whom it might be 
 enlightened and adorned ! How fuddenly do all the 
 finer feelings of the heart, and the noblefc efforts 
 of tr.e mind, dec?.y in the company of thcfe cf:en- 
 taticus ch?.ra(El*r3 who aife6l to difdain all taife, ail 
 pleaiurf s, in ?mxed focietiesJ^ 
 
 great and fafhionable, however, are in 
 every country efreecaed the beff; company ; but the 
 
 freat^ unhappily, are not in truth always the befl^ 
 :;wever they may think proper to contemn the in- 
 ferior orders cf mankind. Whoever can deduce 
 his nobility through a courfe of fixteea defcents, the 
 value of his chara(51:€r is invariably fixed : the courts 
 of princes and the mar.fions of the great are open 
 to receive him ; and where m.erit is overlooked, he 
 almcft univerially acquires precedency over the 
 man whofe merit is his ocly recommendation ; but 
 
 * Tr.e French is *' Aff'etnbleti fam oewvre melee','''' to which is fub- 
 jo'ined the following expUiiuLicn : *' The^^e, in the ftyle of the Cermaa 
 fiobillty, are aflembiici from which not only all ccmnmters xre exclu^ 
 4f cij, but ail thofe whofe ntbil'ity. cTcn is. liable to the leaft fufpklon/' 
 
The Infiuence of ^dltui^, io7 
 
 tbofe qualities wh^.ch alone can render him valuable - 
 as a ma::, his exc-^llency inult l^arn in focieues 
 vvher3 the po-wers of the r^.ind and th^ virtues of 
 th; heart elcne confer dignity and d r.inft on. Let 
 fuch a charaifter, if h:: n-culd chance to find one 
 folitary moment while h^" is v. airing in the anti- 
 chamber of a p.ince, cx-.mine with rational cslm- 
 nefs all thofe hi-;h prerojTaiives cf which he is fo 
 proud ; which, in his efiimation, pl;:ce him fo much 
 above the ordinary level of mankind, and, induce 
 him to retrace his def :ent to the creation cf the 
 world ; and he will find, that titles and genealo- 
 gies witli*ut merit, refemble thofe air-balloons 
 which rife high only in proportion to their want 
 of weight. 
 
 In almoft every country, however, thefe titles 
 of nobility feparate a certain clafs of miii from 
 their fellow-citizans, who are in gencrol better in- 
 fonned, mor? wife, more virtur-us, and net unfre- 
 qiiently polTefled of that true nobility, a great and 
 konorable chara(^er ! I\'Iea who have nothin^^ to 
 depend on for their fame, rank, or eftablifhment 
 -in the world, but a line of anceftry, not always the 
 moli: refp2clable ; w>-0, relying fclely on the merit 
 of their birth, never feek to a'-quire any otiier, be- 
 caufe it is th^ only merit of which they h^.vs any 
 idea, have in all companies the higheil precedency-* 
 It is true, that fuch men are generally acquainted 
 with the neweft modo? of drcfs, conduct with fupe- 
 rior Iklll the varying f^diions, ir^derllar^d the 
 ton^ exemplify th^ etiq; ^ "tfe .?nd manners of the day, 
 and, conceiving ihey were formed for the refine- 
 ments of fenfuality -r.nd vrluptuocfnefs, fancy them- 
 felvcs of ccurfe endowed Avith the moft ^.elicate 
 and (t-afible facult'es. 
 
 Lane;uor and diignfi:, however, penetrate ^veti 
 into thofe illuftrious ailemblics from whence even 
 the pure and ancient nobility exclude the profane 
 vulgar. This proportion may perhaps at firft view 
 
To^ The Infiucnce of SoJitiiS, 
 
 appear a paradox. But liften to the mariner In 
 
 which a ladV) whof^ perfonal qualifications rendered 
 her more refpeclable than evea the fpiendor of her 
 birth, exphlned this Gcnigma : 
 
 " 1 he vix:t]i of v/horn our fele£l parties are 
 coiTipofed, do not always pofiefs the fame talle and 
 fen* iment with refpe^l to thefe ailemblies ; hut it 
 is fiill more rare for the women to te really fond 
 of them, it is, in ?:eneral, the lot of the great to 
 polTefs a great deal by their birth, to dcfire much 
 more than they pofTefs, and to enjoy nothing : in 
 confequence of this difpofition, ihey fly to places of 
 public refort in learch of each other ; they meet 
 without feeliiig ihe fmailefl pleafure, and mix 
 among the group without beiag C'bferved."— 
 " What is it then that re-unites them aJf]<:ed I. 
 — " It is their rank/' fhe replied, " and afterwards 
 cufliom, lailitude, and the continual defire of diffi- 
 pation ; a def re iafeparably attached to perfons of 
 cur condiiion.'' 
 
 Since it is really p'iiible to experience difgud 
 and languor in the 'aliemblies and other entertain- 
 ments of the gre?.t, let us examine if Solitude m?,y 
 r.ot have an ufeful.infiuence on the minds of even 
 this cbfs of perfons. 
 
 Mified by falfe informatioD, the nobility main- 
 (aiUj that all the pleafares of Solitude ceDtre in a 
 contempt of the world and ha' red of mankind, or, 
 what is ftiil w orfe, that mifanthrcpy is the only ba- 
 fr5 on which they are founded. On the contrary, 
 1 am pirfeclly fatisfi^d, that their minds feel much 
 more fpleen and mortiScaiicn on their return from 
 -a public a^embly, than they poiTeifed when they 
 quitted hr m.e — to fee the world. In Schtude there 
 can be no contention : on the contrary, hcwm.any 
 men are there \vhc. trequenting public places with 
 the Yi-in li pe r-f enjoyirg a tranfient pleafure, find 
 all their ad; 'reffrs refined, and only expr rience ac- 
 cumulated pain } The fvber voice of reafcn is there 
 
The Injluence of Botitude* I09. 
 
 but faintly he:ird ; v/hila the light unmeaning tongue 
 of folly is lift ined to with dilight ; our intellectual,, 
 coinmun'caiions afford no relilh ; no reciprocity or 
 fsntiinent prevails ; ihe appearance of fatisfa61:ion 
 fequently excites envy, and a ferenity of mind is 
 mlfconftrued into fadnels. The refpeclive members 
 of a numerous affembly are in general acluated by 
 Fuch different and cppofite interefls, that it is im- 
 pcfiible to reconcile thera with each other — AJk 
 that youag and lovely girl. If in a public affembly 
 fhe alwiys experienced the pleafures which fhe ho- 
 ped to find ? Afl< her, If her heart is not tortured 
 v/ith ^xition v/hen the rich and youthful beau, 
 imfafcinated by her charii;s, pays his addreffes to 
 fome rival beauty ? Aflc this rival beauty, What 
 pangs her bofom feels when fhe perceives herfelf 
 1 uppian ted by fome happier fair ? And let this lafb 
 acknowledge the kind of pleafure fhe receives, if 
 her admirer pays the leaft attention even to the fair 
 fem^ale whom her heart adores. Afk that fober 
 matron whofe bofom heretofore has felt thefe tor- 
 ments, If fhe is not furious almofi when higher 
 compliments are pafled on the beauty of youth, 
 than cn the wifdom of age ? 
 
 An Englifh gentleman whom I met in Germa- 
 ny, faid, in a manner extremely p^.clurefque, 
 Thsre are women who are eternriily jealous that 
 you do not pay them fuificlent refpeCl, and who, 
 in confequence, affume an arrogance which would 
 be infopportable even in an em.prefs ; while fhe 
 Hiight, by complacent fmiles, not only render eve- 
 ry one about her pleafant and happy, but obtain 
 their admiration and applaufe. The falfe dignity 
 of fuch charadlers ruiRes their tempers like the 
 quills upon the fretful porcupine, or the feathers of 
 a turkey-cock in wTath.'' 
 
 The m.ofi: diilip?ted man muft Turely view fuch 
 cbar^fters with abhorrence and d'Jguft'; and if he 
 feriouily ieflc<fls, how mai-^.y there are who, carelefs 
 (X) 
 
■iio The Liflmue rf Soktiidtf* 
 
 of difliijguifhing between appearances atid reality, 
 feel with equal indiference the love of truth and 
 dread of fallehood ; how frequcndy t:-e perfons 
 wiiqcoHipofe what is ftyled good cempnny, ?.re, ev- 
 en in the judgment ?.nd cpm'on of their fmcereft 
 and mod liberal adiiiirers, dazzled by f -ife brillian- 
 cy, and gratified by (he moft triilirg iaformali3n; 
 that they fhmi with tern)r the advantages cf reflec- 
 tion, tranquillity, and Solitude; that they prefer a 
 Jlfe of incaffant diiiipation, and feldom confult their 
 judgments cr cxercife their underfcandings ; tHt 
 they rather expecl to receive pleafure from others, 
 than endeavor to fi.id it within theml'elvcS f con- 
 dud theraitlves by cafual advice, r.^.th?r than take 
 the trouble of th'nkirg fcr tbemfelves ; thataniidft 
 the mo Pi favorable opportun'ties to obferve and 
 itudy the hunaau characler, they n-.-i^her think ncr 
 fpeak but by the information of others ; that they 
 guide themfclves by the prejudices of thrir educa- 
 tion, the pride of their rank, and the dicflates of 
 fafhion ; that they blindly adopt and defend the 
 reigning opinion of the moment ; and revolve con- 
 tinually round the fame circle of defective notions, 
 falfe ideas, and obfcure expreiTicns. In rrflsding 
 on thefe errors, tiie molt diflipated man muf: ex- 
 xlaim with one of the moft virtu us and mc ft re- 
 ipzdidhle fag-S of Germany, To bi forced t.^ fre- 
 quent this ccw/^72y, is to a lb inking ai:d judi- 
 cious mind one of the greatefl tcrments c f ufe : 
 but when a wife man is obliged from indifp^nfahle 
 ^notives to endure this torment, he will leurn by 
 experience to feel in a ft ill hi.^her degree the inelli- 
 mabb value of a ra^i^nal Sohtude.'* 
 
 Men of the world, therefore, if they aft with 
 cJandor, and in the fi^.cerity of their beanp .^xuruine 
 the merits cf ihef^ iccie ics, w*ll foon cr.iertain tire 
 det'psfl contempt fcr this nci'^y acd tmnuituous 
 fcene of hfe, learn to TJref--r r'^e calm delights of 
 Solitude, and iv^el an happy incii',.auoa growing io 
 
77a? Irjluence of Scliiudc^ Vit- 
 
 the bofom to difpliy in more laudable purfu'ts the 
 ih-e'^^th and e'.^ergy of the ir.ind. In thefe fr.:qiient 
 vichiitudes of Ufc, in ihis^fiicceffion of eniburrafi- 
 meiits, in this coniir.uai diffraction cf the mind, Qrr\ 
 cry in^eileclual power evapzirate-s. 
 
 By this fcrupuloiis attention to ali the duties 
 of p: liteneis, running inceffantly from door to doer 
 to g-.in informaiicn of ever^^ man's health, we m?,y^ 
 indeed, pay the court cf flattery to both high and 
 low ; but we alfo thereby m-oft fhamefuily facrifice 
 cur iivcs. The paflion for play not only confunies 
 time, but e:"iervates the fpirits ; wLiib the obliga* 
 tions of gallantry reduce the foul to the lacii ab- 
 jfct fL?.te of len'i-ude. 
 
 The other entertainments cf the great and ?xay 
 are of as httle value as tlttir convvrhii tions. The 
 man cn whom Heaven has only beiicwed the talent 
 cf dancing, will make but a poor figure in focietr. 
 The courtier, whofe converfation entirely ccnfi'ls 
 cf obiervations, that ** this is contrary to the (.ftab- 
 lifhed etiquette— that is the newefb f^rnijn— thefe 
 are the m.cil tleg-jitembrcider.es cn iilk, cloth and 
 velvet — in fuch a month there will be a gala"— is 
 a creature ftdl mare pitiful. A man may witiicut 
 d.:ubt recom.m.end himlelf by fuch kind of informa- 
 tion, by that attecled intereR vvirh which he fpeak^ 
 on a thcufmd trifling concercs ^of life, by the ap- 
 probati Dn which he gives to every paliicn,' the flat- 
 tery witli which he fooths every prejudice and en- 
 courages every folly ; but he thereb^y narrows his 
 mir.d, and deilroys the faculty cfcoi^fidenrg and 
 fomrng a juft eltim-ate cf any important fubjcCl:. 
 Befides, the plaaiures of high life cancct be e' Joy- 
 ed without the concurrence cf great numbers rhe. 
 fame obje«5!: a: the fame ^ime : but reading and me- 
 cita'ion may be e!^joycd a.t any ii!i-e. and continued 
 without the intervention cf another p^rfon. It is 
 tree,' indeed, that if a man of t^e world were orlt 
 to thinlc of this mode of life, hs would be defpifei 
 
112 
 
 The Influence of Solitude* 
 
 as a mifanthrcps, and be obliged every moment to 
 lifteit- to the recommendi.tion of ep.teiing into the 
 round cf public pleafure, to eifed his cure : But, 
 on ths contrary, the fccicties of the world, while 
 they add fome little refinement to the natural rude- 
 nefs of human manners, tend to increafe a mifan- 
 thrcpic temper, by furnlfhing the mind with a va- 
 riety of reafons to juftify it. In (hort, the burthen 
 of miPanthropy is not greater in the mind of him 
 ■who flixcs from the pleafures cf the world, than in 
 him who feeks them : the firff character only feels 
 an hatred of vice and folly ; while, on the contrAry^ 
 the idle and diffipa^ed man hates every perfon who 
 diftinguifhes himfelf either by the goodnefs of his 
 heart or the fuperiorlty of his underftanding ; and 
 by his endeavors to deride all who poiTefs merit,, 
 dilc ~>vers that he feeh no hope of acquiring for 
 himfelf either reputation or efleem. 
 
 The mind that ferioufiy contemplates thefe 
 truths, and many o hers which fhefe will fuggeft, 
 mufc feel the neceffity of retiring cccafioiially from 
 the world ; at leaf!: of coniining himfelf to the com- 
 pany of a few faithful fiiem's, whofe wit and tal- 
 ents, when compared wi^.h thofe of the generality 
 of men, will be wivat a ilop-v/atch is when compa- 
 red with an hcur-glafs. By the one you may un- 
 doubtedly difcover the courfe cf time ; but the 
 other, from the nice art and happy care with which 
 it is formed, points out every fecond as it palTeSo 
 He, therefore, v/ho feels the leafl inclination to 
 ftudy either men or book?, can derive plraiure only 
 from the company and converfaticn cf learned anci 
 enlightened minds ; and, if, unfortunately in his 
 courfe through life, he Pnould not meet with agree- 
 able charaftars of this defcripdon, the charms of 
 Solitude v/ill r^compenie his difappointment. 
 
 A very great charafler, tr.e younger Plioy,. 
 felt no fatisfaiSlion from any fpecies of public en- 
 tertainment, general feflival, ornational iclemnity,. 
 
Jhe hfuenee of SoUinds, 113 
 
 bec^.ufe he had cultivated a ta^e for thofe pleafures 
 wi:ich a contemplative miud affords. He wrote to 
 one of his friends, " 1 hav?, for fome days pad, 
 rsad and v/ri-ren in t'-e mcft rgreeable trai: quill' ly. 
 Ycu will nik, HvOVv^ could this p -ffibly happen in the 
 inidJle cf Rome ? I will fatisfy ycu *. it was du- 
 ring the celebration of the games cf the Circur, 
 from tiie light cf which I do not feel the finallefc 
 pleafure : to my mind !hey neither afford novelty 
 nor variety ; and confift of nothing worth feeing 
 mere than once, it is, therefore, iiiconceivr.ble to 
 me, how ib many niillions of people can prefs with 
 fuch childifh curiolity merely to fee hcrfes gallop, 
 and flaves feated on chariots. When I reflect on 
 the interefl, ^.nxiety, and avidi'.y with which men 
 purfue fights fo vain, frivolous and reiterated, I 
 feel a fecret fatisf .6i:iGn in acknowledging that to 
 me they aff,;rd no ainuf anient, and t: at 1 enjoy a 
 fupericr delight in coniecratir g to the iludy of iht^ 
 belles le^tres that time which rl ey fo miferably. facri«- 
 fice to the enter. ainments of the Circus.'^ 
 
 But if, from fimilar motives, a man of the 
 world were tofheal from the pleafures of p;cod compa-» 
 ny^ would he not by that means degrade his charac- 
 ter? AVculd he not in the recefs of Sclitiide f/rget 
 the bon ion, and, of ccurfe, 1 fe all thofe qualities 
 which externally confiiture the fole difference be» 
 tween the nobleman and his flav^i' 
 
 He bon ton^ which confif:s entirely in afliciiitT 
 of expreffion, in reprefenucg our ideas ia the m.oil 
 agreeable inannsr, prevaib in evzry country, and 
 is poff^lfed in general by all mien of fcnfe and edi- 
 itcadon, v/hatever their rank or condition in lifg 
 may be. The nobleman and the clown, therefore, 
 may alike acquire a knowledge of the bon ion. The 
 folitary character may pernaps appear in fociety 
 w'th manners rather out of da^:e ; but a certain 
 propriety of be'iavior will accompany him, w-iich a 
 man of tru;; refledicn will prefer, however foreign 
 (X 2) 
 
'J' 1 4 The Influence of ScHfude. 
 
 his flyleTxiay be to the fafhion of the world. He 
 may perhaps vcl^ture to appear in company vzkh 
 a cost, the color of which was in fafhion the pre- 
 ceding ye::r ; p-^rhaps in his modes of thinking and 
 ni-anner cf behavior f m-: thing may be difcernible 
 ©fFenfive to ^he eyes cf a man of the world, wha 
 upon t. efe important fubjecls follows invariably 
 the reigning opi::ion cf the day ; but by his eafy, 
 oper. honei^. air, by t-at natural p-:htenefs which 
 good fenfs and virtue infpire, a man, although he 
 be rather cut of the fafhion, will never difplsa(e a 
 rational and refmed obivrver, even in the brilliant 
 circles of a court, when he is found to polTefs a de- 
 cent d -meaner and a mind ilorcd with ufcful in- 
 f crniarion. The niofi: accompliflied courtier, with 
 all his iludied manners and a?/reeable addrefs, fre- 
 quently difcovers that he polfeiles few ideas, and 
 that his mini has only been employed on low and 
 trilling objects. Among men of dilTipated minds, 
 who confider grcilhels of converfaiion and audacity 
 of manners as the only criterion of good fenfe and 
 poMied behavior, a iolitary man does not always 
 meet with a favorable reception. The flyle and 
 fen timents which beftpleafe fuch characters are im- 
 pDiFiMelo be learned in Sclicude ; for he who moft 
 contributes to the am.ufementof men of the world, 
 can felcnom boalt any other merit than that of at- 
 tempting to ridicule every thing that is true, noble, 
 great and good ; or any other fuccefs than proving 
 himielf to be a foclifli character, without judg-nent, 
 principle, or good manners. 
 
 In what i have hitherto confidered in this chap, 
 ter, no queition has been raiftd of the internal and 
 Iromediate advant^.ges which SoHtude confers upon 
 the mind. 
 
 Tiie mine!, without doubt, gains confiderable 
 sidvantage by having bc?n a'^cuflomed to Sciituda 
 durinf^ the earlieit ye n-s cf ii^fancy, if inflrucled iti 
 / a judicious ufe cf time. The circumftance alfo 
 
The Lifucne^ of Solitude, ir^ 
 
 that even in fm?.ll towns the mind may be impreiTed' 
 with a deep difguil: of ?,U thofe vices and irregulari- 
 ties v/hich are common to fuch places, is by na 
 means unimportant ; for it is highly advantageous, 
 that without lefleniiig the refped which is juftly due 
 to the talents and virtues of men of qualiiy, the 
 mind fhould be tanght to remark slfo their foibles 
 and defecls, in order to detach it from its fondnefs 
 for the world, and bring it more clofely in connec- 
 tion with iifelf ; to make it feel how nearly its fu- 
 ture happinefs is interefted in exciting every faculty 
 to acquire tb^ofe original, great and ufeful ideas 
 which are lb feldom circulated in what is calied- 
 good company. 
 
 But the firfl and mod inconteflible advantage ■ 
 which Solitude confers, is, that it accufloms the 
 mind to think. I he imagination becomes more 
 lively, tr.e memory more faithful, while the fenfcS 
 remain undlilracted, and no external objed dif- 
 guits the foul. Withdrawn from the fatiguing toils 
 of the world, where a thcufand adventitious ob- 
 jeds, a thcufand inccherentldeas, dance inceii'antlv 
 before cur eyes. Solitude preients one fingle objeA 
 only to cur view, and we fcesl ourfelves away from 
 every thing but that on which the heart has londly 
 fixed its purfuit. An author,* v/hoie works I could 
 read with pleafure every hour of my hfe, iays^ It 
 is the pO'VTr of attention which in a great meafure 
 diiiinguiines the wile and the great from the vul- 
 gar and trilling herd of men. I he Litter are accuf- 
 tomed to tiiiiik, or rather to dream, without know- 
 mg the fubjed of their thoughts. In their uncon^ 
 neded rovings, they purfue no end ; they follow, 
 no track. Every thing floats L:oie and disjointed 
 
 '* Dr. Blair, the author of the much-a-Imired Sermon?;, znA of 
 an excellent work intitled, " Lectures on Rhetoric and Bciles Let- 
 tres," printed in Lonoon, for the firft time, in the year 1 78-3 j and 
 jndiipenfablv ntccHaiy to be lludied by every perfon who wilhes tO 
 fpcak aad wrUe with iic«uracy antj elegance. 
 
1 1 6 The Infinencc of SoikiiJe, 
 
 on the furface of their mind, like leaves fcatterec 
 -and blown about on the face of the waters." 
 
 The mind raffiy acquires the habit of thinking^ 
 when it is withdrawn from that va.riety of objed^ 
 b)^ which its attention is diftracled : when it tur: 
 from I he cbferv^.tion cf extern?! objects, and fine 
 itielf in a fitua'ion where ibe c'urie of d liiy occurs 
 rencea is no longer lii'-j cl to. conti -ual change. 
 Idleneis, how^^rver, would foon deftroy all the a(' 
 vantages which Sohtude is capable of atiordii^g u-s-^ 
 f :.r i iilenefs excites the moil dangerous fermenta- 
 tion cf tp.e pafllyns, and produces in the mind of a, 
 folitiry man a crowd of extravagant ideas and irre- 
 gular defires. To lead the mind to think, it is ne- 
 celliiry, therefjr to retire from the multimde, anf 
 toraiie .ur L e i ghts above the mean confideratioi 
 of leni'ial ob'eTs- The nu-:d then eafily reccliecl^ 
 all that inf..rmaLion witii which it has been enrich! 
 ed by reading, ol-^fervation, experience, or dif| 
 courfe ; every r< fie cfi^n produces newMdeas, anc 
 brings trie purefl pleafurcs to the foul. We 
 our t yes on the f:enc-s we have pafTed, and thin] 
 on v/hat is yet to come, until the memory of th< 
 pau and future die away in the- aclual cnjoymenl^ 
 of the preicnt moment : but to preierve the powers' 
 ofreafjn, we mud, tven in Solitude, (fired our 
 ai tendon aci-vcly tow^ards fbme nobL^, iatercilii:g 
 e,:d. 
 
 It mif.ht perhaps excite a fmile, were I to af- 
 frrr, ih it Solitud- is (he only frhool in which we 
 c.ai ill! :ly ih j c'laraclers of men ; but it muii be re- 
 coiiecl:."d, t at, alihcugh p:^al:eri:d3 are only to be 
 •amafbri in /cv^^/y, it is in Solitude alone v/e cm con- 
 vert I hem 's^o ul>. The world is the great icene 
 of our o\ Ibrvati ms ; bi^t to commier^t oa and ar- 
 range them with prcprietv, is the work cf Sohtude. 
 Under- this view of ths fiil^jecl:, therefore, I do not 
 percei'^/e hov/ it is poflible to c.dl thof- charactt rs 
 tnvious and mibiathropiCj whOj widle they ccutiuus 
 
^'he Influence^ of Boritude* 1 1 7 
 
 in the world, endeavor to difcover even the hidden 
 foiyes, to expofe all the latent fauhs and imperfec- 
 tions of mankind. A knowledge of the nature of 
 man is laudable and n"Ccffiry : and \\m knov/iedge 
 can oi:ly be acqu'red by obfervation. I. cannot, 
 tr.erefcre, think that this (lady is either fo danger- 
 ous or ilkifory as is in ^;eueral fuppcfed ; tr.at \t 
 ■ tends to degrade the fpecies, to fmk the human 
 character by opprobrium, to beget fooner or later 
 forrow and repentance, to deprive life of a 'w'ariety 
 of pure and nobl-^ pleafures, and in the end to de- 
 liroy all the faculties of the foul, I only perceive 
 in it a very laudable fpirit of ufeful Inquiry and ia- 
 ftru'ilive obfer\^ation. 
 
 Do I feel either envy or hatred againil man- 
 kind when I fLudy the na;ure, -and explore the fe- 
 crct caufes, of thof^ weakneffes and difcrders v/hich 
 are incidental to the human frame ; when I occi- 
 ^fioaaliy examine the fubje^i: with clofer infpeclion, 
 'and point out for the general benefit of mankind, 
 as well as for my own fatisfaccion, ail the frail and 
 imperfecl: parts in the anatomy of the body, and 
 rejoice v/lien I dirccver ph-cieiiomena before un- 
 known to ot'r.ers as v/ell as to myfelf ? I do not, 
 upon thefe occafions, confine my kuovvdedge to ge- 
 neral obfervations, thiit fuch and inch appearances 
 were produced by fuch and fuch diforders ; but, 
 uninflaenced by any fmirter conilderatlons, I dif- 
 elcfe, wr.en the necelTity of the caie calls for infor- 
 mation, all the knowledge I pofTefs on the fubjecl, 
 and explain every fymptom of the difcrdcr, with 
 all its changes and compl'cattons. 
 
 But a line of demarcation is drawn betv/eeii 
 the obfervations which we are permitted to make 
 upon the anatomy of the human body, and thofe 
 which we aiFume refpe<ftlng the philof:phy of the 
 mind, 'i he phyfician, it is f?id, Rudies the difor- 
 ders of the body, to apply, if polTible, a remedy, 
 as occafion may rec^uire { but it is contended, that 
 
i'1'8 TJ:c Influence' of Mitude^ 
 
 the mcniliii h?.s a difeent end in view. Hov/ doe^ 
 tris appear ? A (enlibh ana feeling mind raufl view 
 the moral defcCLS of h^s fellov;'-crea tares with the 
 fkme regr^.t that i:e cbierv-es their phyfical infinni^ 
 ties. Why do morruij i? fhun niank'nd ? Why da 
 they conliaiitly retire fixm the ccrrup:i:ns of tiiq 
 world lq the puri;y cf Solitude, if it be not to avoid 
 the contagion of vice ? But there are a muUiplicitf 
 of mor.^d foibles and det<'6b which aje not perceiv-' 
 ed to re foibles ct de feclc id ihofe places where they 
 are every honr indalged. There is, withcut con- 
 tradiction, a j;;r^at pleyiure in difcoYering the im^ 
 perfe<ft.ons oi human na'.ure ; and where that dif^^ 
 ccvery inpy prc^ve beneficial to mankind without* 
 d::ing an irjury to iny iiidividual, to publifli theiH; 
 to the world, to poiat cut their properties, to place 
 them by a luminous defc ription before the eyes of 
 men, is,, in my apprehension, a pleafure fo far from " 
 beirg raiichievous, that I rather think, and I tru^: 
 I lh3 11 coutiaae to think fo even in the hour of 
 death, it is the only true mean of dilccvc-riiig the 
 iiiachin?.tiGr^s cf the devil, and dellroyins the efled. 
 •cf iiis work-:. 
 
 Solitude, theref rre, is the Ichocl in which we 
 pnuii fcudy the nieral iiature cf Riin : in retireirent 
 the principle cf obi-.rvatian is awakened ; the ob- 
 jects to wnich the altenticn will be inoft adva?na^ . 
 gecuily directed, are poiated out by mature r.flec-. 
 tion, and all our remarks guided by reafon to their 
 proper ends ; while on the contrary, courtiers and 
 men of the wcrld take up the^.r fentituents from 
 the caprices of others, and give their opiiiions v/ith- 
 oiitdigdaug the fubjeftoB v/hich they are fcnned. 
 
 Bonner, in a very ailecting paffage cf the Pre- 
 face to his work o-a the Nature of the Soul, de- 
 Icribes the advantages which, UDCer the bis of his 
 light, he derived from Solitude. " Solitude naJu- 
 raliy leads the miiid to meditation : that in v/hich I 
 have in ijnie nieamre hitherto lived, joined to the 
 
Thi hif.ucnis of Scfitiidc. 1 1 <>• 
 
 - unfortanate circumRances which have for f?me 
 ■ T*ar.^ p.fH'ft^d me, and from which I arji not yet 
 
 reir:ifed, indacsd ine to feek hi the cxercife of my 
 mind thofe refcnjrces which my d:fLr?.<rted (late ren- 
 dered fo ncceile.ry. My mind now affords me an 
 h^'ppy retreat, 'v^'here I tall e all the pleafares which 
 have charmed my afliifllon." At thi3 pericd the 
 
 , virtuous Bonnet Ava3 almoil Mind, 
 
 An excellent man of another dcfcription, who 
 devoted his time to tlie inro-u/ilion of yout{\ Ffef- 
 fel, at Cdmcir^ fupp.-^rted hi r.felf uncer the aiUxiion 
 of a total bhndnefs in a rn inner equally noble and 
 aftecling, by a life lefs folitary indeed, but hy the 
 opp^rtuni'ies of freqntnt leifure, which h* dv?v :ted 
 to the findy cf p.iii: ibphy, the recrcatic n of poet- 
 ry, and the exercifa of humanity. 
 
 In Japan there was formerly an academy cf 
 
 I tlhid p^rbns, w^ho perhaps were much more cap;i- 
 
 ' ble of difcenimsnt t "an the members cf fome other 
 aciiemies. ThMe nghtl rfs academicians confecra- 
 ted their hours to the hiftory of their country, to 
 
 I ' poetry, and to m.nlc ; and the moftcelebraied traits 
 ia the annals of Japan were chofen as the (uhjccls- 
 of their mufe, which th:y afterwards adapted to 
 
 - inufic. In reiieCting up^-n th^ iiTeguku- live? ani 
 ' ufeiefs employments v/hich a great nuinber of fvii- 
 
 tavy penons lead, we contsniphte ti:e conduct of 
 •b.:ie blind Japan ?fe with the highell pleafure. I'ha 
 eys Opened to compenfate their unhappy fate 
 b-eing deprived cf the enjoyment of their corpi- 
 il organ. Light, hfe ar.d joy illued from the 
 i::ad-:s cf furrounding darknefs, and blefT^d them 
 with tranqmi rcflvCLion and falutarr^ employments. 
 
 Let us then devote our lives to S^lituie and 
 freedom; let us frequsn Ir refign ourfflves to the 
 fame happy tranquH ty v. h'ch prevails in the Erg- 
 iiih garden of my i nmort: I friend, M. Hinuber, at 
 Maricriwerder^ where -^v-ry o^j^cl f ^licirs the mind 
 t J the cnjoyiEent of piouc, p^acofui fentiments, and. 
 
fid 
 
 The Injluence of ^dliiuie* 
 
 infpires it ^nth the mo', elevated conceptions : or^' 
 if difp-jfed profoundly to examine the moft awfulj 
 beauties of nature, and thereby prevent the fculi 
 from f'Dldng through t. e void whxh f.Kiety has oc- 
 cafioned, let us roann beiie^th the antique pines of 
 the towering and n-iajefdc Hapfburg.* 
 
 Solitude induces the mind to think ; and 
 thouglit is the firll fpring of human adions : for it 
 is truly obferved, that the adlions of men are noth- 
 ing more than their thoughts brouglit intb fubilance 
 and being. Tha mind, therefore, has only to ex- 
 amine v/ith honeft iiiipardality the ideas which it 
 feels the greatefi: inclination to follow, in order to^ 
 dive into and unravel the whole mynery of the hu-- 
 man charaQer ; and he v/ho has not before been 
 
 an inquiry, often dilcover truths the moii impor- 
 tant to his happlnefs, but which the difguifes of the 
 world had concealed from his view. 
 
 To a man difpofed to adcivity, the only quali- 
 ties for v/hich he can have any occafion in Solitude 
 are liberty and leifure. The inftant he finds him- 
 felf alone, ail the faculties of his foul are fet in mo- 
 tion. Give him liberty and leiliire, and he will 
 foar incomparably higher than if he had continued 
 to drag on a fiaviili and oppreffed life amorg the 
 fons of men. Authors who never think for them- 
 felves, w^ho only endeavor to recollecl the thoughts 
 of others, and aim not at origir.ality, here compik 
 their works with eafy labor, and are happy. But 
 what fupcrior pleaiiire dees the mind of an author 
 fe:-l in the r^dvantages of ScUtude, where they con- 
 tribute to bring forth the fruits of genius froxTi the 
 tree of virtue, notwithfianding fuch produ61:ions 
 may perh?p? irritate fools, and confound the wick- 
 ed! Tile Ihades of Solitude, and an unintrrrupted 
 
 * An elcvateci mountaij), from the fummit of v/hich may be 
 feen the ruins of aa aaciect caSie^ ffotg y/hence iffued Lbe.celebia- 
 ted Hgufe of Auilria. 
 
7he Injlitence of Solitude, I zit 
 
 trr.nqiiillity, moder?.te the exuberance of a lively 
 mind, brirg its diverging rays of thought to aCngle 
 point, and give it, v/herever it^ is inchned to ftrike, 
 a power v/hich ROtlnng can refill. An vi^hcle legioa 
 cf adverfarics cannot infpire the bofora of fuch a 
 character \vi;h the fmallefl fear; he is confcious of 
 ! his fuperior powers, and his fole defire is, that, foon-^ 
 ; er or later, each cf them fhould receive the juftice 
 i that is due. He muHiindoubtedly feel the keereft 
 : regret and mortification in obfrrving the difpenfa- 
 tions cf the world ; v/here vice fo frequently is rai- 
 fed to grandeur, hypocrify fo generally honored by 
 the fuffirages of a 'mifguicled populace, and where 
 the dictates of powerful prejudice are cbe-/ed in 
 preference to the voice of truth. CafLing, howev- 
 I er, his eyes upon this fcene, he will fometimes fay, 
 1 This is as it ought to be but, " this is not ta 
 be en lured and by an happy flroke cf fatire 
 from his pen, the bloom cf vice fhali wither, the- 
 I arts of liypocrify be overthrown, and prejudice ex- 
 tinguifhed. 
 
 To the eye of the bold fatiriH:, to the mind of 
 ihe profound philofopher, and the feelings cf the 
 mnn cf genius, the charms of truth difclofe them- 
 fd^'es with fuperior luitre in the bowers of Solitude. 
 A great and gord man. Dr. Biair of Edinburgh, 
 (ays, " The great and the worthy, the pious and 
 the virtuous, have ever been addicted to fericus re- 
 tirement. It is the characteriflic of little and frivo- 
 Icus minds, to be wholly occupied with the vulgar 
 obje(fl3 cf life. Thefe fill up their defires, and lup- 
 j ply all the entertainment which their coarfe apprc"- 
 I h^nfions can rehfh. But a more refined and elar- 
 : ged mind leaves the world behind ir, feels a call for 
 j higher pleafiires, and feeks them in retreat. The 
 ; man of public fpirit has reccurfe to it, in order to 
 i form plans for general good ; the man of genius, in 
 order to dwell on his favorite thenies ; ths phibfo- 
 
 I 
 
 (XI) 
 
122 The Lifnicncs of SGJitudc, 
 
 pher^ to purfue his difcoveries ; the faint, to im^ 
 prove himfelf ia grace." 
 
 Numa, the legifiator of Ror e, while, he w?] 
 only a private Sabine, retired, on the death of Ta 
 tia, his beloved wife, into the foreft of Jricia^ wher( 
 he paffed his time in wandering about slone in th^ 
 iacred groves and lawns, in the mofc retired anc 
 folitary places. Hence a report arofe, that it Vvai 
 not from any inward fcrrov/ or melancholy difpcti' 
 tion, that he ?.voided human converfatioc, but fron: 
 his being admitted, in th;fe retreats, to a focie^^ 
 more venerable and excellent : the goddefs Egeria, 
 It was faid, had become enamored of his charms] 
 h^d married him, and, by enlightening his mind, 
 ?Tid fcoring it with faperior wifdcm, had led him \c 
 divine felicity. The druids, alio, who conflanti^^l 
 inhabited caverns, rocks, and the moi^b Iclitary 
 woods, were faid to have inftrucled the nobility o; 
 their nation in wifdom and eloquence, in the va- 
 rious phenomena of nature, the courle of the liarSj 
 the myfteries of religion, and the elfences of etend- 
 •ty. The high idea entertained of the wifdom of thd 
 druids, although, hke the liory of Numa, it is only 
 an agreeable fiftion, flill fhews with what erithufiafriij 
 every age and nation have fpoken of thofe venera- 
 ble chara<5lers who, in the filer ce of woods and the 
 tranquillity of Solitude, have devoted their time to 
 the ftudy of wifdcm. 
 
 It^is in SoUtude alone that genius is excited by 
 its own internal powers, jjnfupported by the great/ 
 without the expeftation of encouragement, without 
 •even a profpe(5l of the molt trifling recompence. 
 Corregio, at a time v/hen Flanders, torn by civil 
 difcord, was filled with painters as indigent in wealth 
 as ihey were rich in fam.e, hadl^een fo poorly re- 
 warded during his hfe, ihat a payment of Lx pif- 
 toles of German coin, which he was obliged to 
 travel to Parma to receive, created in his mind fuch 
 .aflfi^^lravagauce of joy as to prove the cccalicn cf 
 
The Injluence of Mhide. j 
 
 his death.* The fecret approbation which judg- 
 ment will ever pay to the works of tbefe divide ar- 
 tills, is the only recompence they expecl for their 
 merit : they paint in hope of being rewarded by 
 immortal fair.e. 
 
 The practice of profound meditation in fol'.ta- 
 ry places frequently raifas the mind above its na- 
 tural tone, warms the imagination, and gives birth 
 to fen'iments of the highcll fublimity. The foul 
 feels the moil pure, unbroken, p ermanent and ge- 
 nial phafures cf which it is capable. In S T'litude-, 
 to live and to think are fynonymous ; on every 
 emo'.ion the m'nd darts into infinity ; and, rapt in 
 its enthiifrafin, is confirmed by tins f-eedom of en- 
 joyment in the habi-ude cf thiiikir^g on fublime fub- 
 jeCls, anil of adopting the moft heroic purfuits. In 
 a deep Solitude, at the fojt of an high mountain, 
 near Pyrmounf , one of the mofi: remarkable achieve- 
 ments of tha prefeat age was firft conceived. The 
 King of PrulTia having vifited the Spa at Pyrmount, 
 to drink the waters, v/ithdrew from the company 
 v/ho frequented the place, and vvandered alone up- 
 on this beautiful mountain, which was then uncul- 
 tivated, and which to this day is called the Royal 
 McuiDtaiQ.t It w^as on thi^s defart, fmce become the 
 feat cf ccquetry and diilipaticn, that the young 
 monarch, as it is confidently reported, formed his 
 prcj 61 of the firlr v/ar againfl Siiefia. 
 
 Tiie ineiliinable value of time, of which the 
 indolent, having no concept.ion, can form no eiii- 
 mate, is much better learned in the regul irity cf 
 SdiruJe, than in the hght and airy rounds of life. 
 He v/r.o employs himfeif v;ith ardor, and is unwiU 
 
 *" The payment was mide to hira in quadrini^ z fpecies of copper 
 coin. The joy which the mind of Corregio felt in being the bearer 
 of lb large a qu.^nticy of mr-nsy to his wife, prevented him fiom think- 
 ing either of che iengtii of his journey or the excefiive heat of tlic day.' 
 tJe waikf A twelve miles ; and his hafttf U reach hii> hojiii iHOUgliL oa 
 the ule'jrify of which he died. 
 
j-24 The Influence of Solitude, 
 
 ling to live entirely in vain, contemplates with trem- 
 bliug appreheniion the rapid movement of a ftcp- 
 v/aich ; the true image of humiin life, the moll lirL 
 king emblem of the rapid courfe of time. 
 
 The time which we employ in focial intei^ 
 courfe, when it improves the faculties of the mind, 
 raifes the feelings of the heart to a certain degra 
 of elevation, extends the fphere of knowledge am 
 banifhes our care, is far from being mis-fpent. Ba 
 if an intercourfe, even thus happily formed, beconn 
 our fole delight, and change into the pallion of love ; 
 if it transform hours into minutes, and exclude* 
 from the mind every idea except thofe v/liich t):e 
 objecSl of 2&Qi\on infpires, even love itfelf, alas I 
 will abforb our time, and years will pafs unperceiv- 
 •ed away. 
 
 Time is never too long ; on the contrary, it 
 appears too fhort to him who, to the extent 6f his 
 capacity, employs it ufefully, in the difcharge of 
 the refpeftlve duties which his particular fituation 
 calls upon him to perform. To fuch a difpcfition 
 time, i a -lead of being burthenfome, flies too haliily 
 jiv/ay. 1 am acquainted with a young prirxe who, 
 by the affiftance of fix domefdcs, does not employe 
 Hiore than two minutes in drefiing. Of his carri- 
 age,^ it would be incorre(5^ to fay that he goes in it, 
 for it flies. At his hofpitable table, every courfe is 
 finifhed in a mom.ent ; and I am informed, that 
 this is the ufual fafhion of princes v/ho feem difpo- 
 fed to make every thing pals with rapidity, i 
 have, however, leen the royal youth to whom I al- 
 lude, exercife the mod brilliant tslents, fupport the 
 higheft fcyle of chara-fter, aUend in his own perfoii 
 to every application, audi know that he hc.s afford- 
 ed fatisfaflion and delight in every interviev/. I; 
 know that the aiFairs of his domeiblc eftibiifhment 
 engp.ge his moft fcrupulous attention fix hours ev-*. 
 ery Ci2.\r ; and th_at in every day of the year he em- 
 |)ioy$5 wiihcut CKceptioB^ i^vgu nours in reading. the 
 
Tlje Jnftuence of Solitude, 
 
 b^n Edglifh, Ic?.lia33, French and German authors. 
 This prince knows the value of time. 
 
 The time which the man of the world throws 
 away is treafured up by the m-m of Solitude, and 
 indeed bv every one who wifhes to m ike his ex- 
 i:1pnce lifeful to himfelf or beneficial to mankied ; 
 and certainly there is not in this w.^rld any Ipecies" 
 of enjoyment more permanent. Men have many 
 duties to perform ; and, therefore, he who wiflies 
 to dilcharge them honorably, will vigilantlv feiza 
 the earlieli cpportunity, if he does not wiih thrcC 
 any part of h.is time, like an ufelefs page, Ihould be 
 torn from the book of hfe. We fli^p the courfe of 
 time by employment ; we prolong the duration of 
 lite by thought, by wifecounfel, andufeful adions. 
 Esiftence, to him who v/ifhes not to live in vain, is 
 to think^ and to aB, Our ideas never flow more 
 rapidly, more copioufly, or with more gaiety, than 
 in thofe moments which we fave from an unplea- 
 iant an 1 falhionabie vl^t, - 
 
 We (hall always employ time with more rigid 
 economy, when we reiie6l on the maiiy hours 
 which cfcape contrary to cur inclination. A cele* 
 brated Englifh author fays, " When we hove de- 
 ducted all thot is abforbed in ileep, all that is inev- 
 itably appropriated to the demands ofaoture, or 
 irre'ifdbly engi^ffed by the tyranny of cuflom. ; all 
 that paffes in r^jguhting tho fuptriicial decQraiionj^ 
 of life, or is given up in th-^ reciprocations of civili- 
 ty to the difpofal of others ; aii that is torn from 
 us by the violence of difeafe, or ftolen impercepti- 
 bly away by lafFitude and hnguor; we (hall fiad 
 that part of cur ckiration very fmali of which we 
 can truly call curfelves maft^rs, or which we can 
 fpend wholly at cur own choice. Many of our hours 
 are IMl in a rot^rion of petty cares, in a conftant re- 
 curreoce of the fame employments ; many of cur 
 provifions for eafe or bappinefs ar^ always ex- 
 hauHed by the prclent dav \ ar*d a great part cf 
 (XI 2) 
 
fSt? The Influence of Solitude, ■■ 
 
 our exiilence ferves no other parpofe than that of^ 
 enabUag us to enjoy the relL'' 
 
 Time is never more inis-fpent than while we, 
 vent complaints againfl: the want of it. All cur- 
 •accions are then tinfturad by peevifhnefs. The 
 yoke of life mofl certainly feels lefs oppreffive when? 
 v/e carry it with g;ood-humor. But when the im- 
 perious voice of Falkion commands, we muft, with- 
 out a murmur, boldly refill her bondage, and learn 
 to reduce the cumber of ceremonious viiits which 
 employ the week.— The accomplifnment of this 
 victory, a door well bolted againft thofe frequent 
 viiitors whofe talk conveys no meaning to our 
 iiiinds, our mornings pafled in rational employ- 
 ments, and the evening kept facred to the feverefc 
 fcruviny into our daily conduct, will at lean: double 
 the time wc have to live. Melan£lhcn, when any 
 vifitor was announced, noted down not only the 
 iiour, but the very minute of his arrival and de- 
 parture, in order that the day might not Hip ua- 
 heedediy away. 
 
 Tne forrov*?ful lamentations on the fubjecl of. 
 time mis-fpent and bulhefs neglected, no longer re- 
 cur to torture the mind, when under the freedom 
 cf a retired and rural life, we have once learnt to 
 afe the palBng hours with econom^y. We have 
 then no more fatiguing vifits to make ; w*2 are na 
 longer forced, in fpite of our averlion, to accept of 
 invitations ; we are no longer m.ortined by the afflu- 
 ence of rival ftrangers ; we are releaied from thofe 
 innumerable duties v/hich the manners of the world 
 exact, and which altogether are not equal to a fm- 
 gie virtue ; imponunate viiitors cannot then call 
 and ileal away thofe hours which we hepe to em- 
 ploy more ufefuUy. 
 
 ' But it has alio been obferved with great truth, 
 that very fev/ of the hours v/e pafs in Solitude are 
 diflinguifhed by any ufeful or permanent effect; 
 liiat saany of them pafs lightly av/ay in dre?45i3 and 
 
T^e Infuencs Mitudg. lay 
 
 cMmerae, or are employed in difcontented, unqui- 
 et retie£lions, io (he indulgence of danejerous paf-- 
 ii.)ns, or of irregular and crimiuiil dehres. 
 
 To retire into Solitude is not always a proof 
 that the mind is devoted to farious thought, or that 
 it has reiinquiflied the amuiement of low and tri- 
 fiing purfuirs — Scliiude, indeed, may prove more 
 dangerous than all the diflipations of the world. 
 How frequenily, in a moment of the happieU lei- 
 fure, djes indilpoiitioa render the mind incapable 
 of ftudy, or cf employing its powers to anv ufeful 
 end ! The mod forrowfui condition cf SoUtude is 
 that of the hypochondriac, vvhofe mind is only oc« 
 cupied by reSe(Sting on his pains. The moft dilii- 
 pated man does not more mis-fpend his time in pur- 
 fuiDg the fleeting pieafures of the world, than a 
 melancholy,, pining mind, even when at the great— 
 efi diftance, and under the niofl: abfolnts leparatioa 
 from tlie reit of m-ankind. Peevillinefs and ill-hu- 
 mor occalion as great Icis of tim.e as m^lancholy^ 
 and are certainly the greatePr obftades to the attain- 
 ment of mental felicity. Melancholy is an enem-y 
 whofe hoftilities alarm cur fears, and we therefore 
 .endeavor to reiiii its attack ; but peeviihnefs and 
 ill-humor take us by furpriz.^, and we become the 
 viclims of their power even before we think our- 
 felves in danger. 
 
 Let us, ho\^"ever, only refle(ft, that by peevifh- 
 nefs and ilUhumor we not only lofe a lingle day,but 
 weeks and m rntiis together, and we fnali endeavor 
 to eicape from, their iniiuince, or, ?.t leaft, to prevent 
 their accas. Ojje unpleafant thought, if w^e uf-ltlly 
 -fiiifer it to difquiet and torment our minds, will de- 
 prive us, for a length of time, of the capacity to per- 
 form any thing beyond the circle of our daily occu- 
 pations. We ihould, therefore, moft anxioufly en- 
 deavor to prevent any of the cuiward accidents of 
 life from gaining too great an influence over tr:e ac- 
 tivity of o.ur aunds,. While the- atientii^u is els'* 
 
1 28 'Thg Infiuence of ScUhi^e. ■ 
 
 ployed, the remembrance of fbrfow dies away. 
 I bus 5 while the mind is eng- g^d in literary compo- 
 fition, if the ideas flow with activity and' fiiccefsj 
 peevilhnefs ar.d ii'Uhnmor difappear in a momein ; 
 and we frequently obferve the pen taken up with 
 ib.p frown of difcontent, and quitted with the fmiie 
 of happineis and the face of joy. 
 
 Life would aflord abundant leifure amid the 
 greatefh muldplicity ofaflairs, did we not only fuf- 
 fer lime to pafs ufdefly away, but even wafte" it of 
 our own accord. He who in his e ^rlieil: youth h3S 
 learned the art of dr.vQting every hour to the at- 
 tainment of fome afeful end, has already made con- 
 fiderable advance^;, and is qualified to m.anage very 
 extenfive concerns. But, whether it proceeds from 
 ill-humor or want of aftivity, we are always incli- 
 ned, before we uadertaks the talk we iatend to per- 
 form, to indulge our eare,to make conditionSjto per- 
 iiiade ourfelves that it is not yet proper time to com- 
 mence the vvork. Indolence mufs: ever be carefTed 
 before it czw be in<iua"d to a£l:. Let our firfl care, 
 therefore, be to fix our minds invariably upon fome 
 objecl ; and to purfue it in fuch a manner as to 
 pi ice p.ttainment beyond the reach of accident. 
 Firm.nels and deciiion, as well as well as good na- 
 ture and flexibility, mufi: be joined to form t^e cha- 
 racter of a man of bur^nefs. ^ Surely no man ever 
 k-iew better how to employ life than that monarch 
 of whom it was faid, " He is like marble, equally 
 firm and polilhcd.'^ 
 
 The purfiiit of foire "pardcular obje^l: is the 
 befc preventive egiinft the lofs of time, and a fort 
 of counter- poifon to the bnguors of life. Every 
 man, from the monarch on the throne to the labor- 
 er in the cintage, Ihouid have a daily taslr ; and 
 that which it is his daily duty to perform, fhould 
 be done without procraftiiiation or delay. Every 
 thouglit and every adion of man, therefore, ougul 
 to ba'direclad towards the l^g^ad v^^iiere it is wnu 
 
Tk Infiucitcs of Solitudg* 129^ 
 
 t'n, ^* It is to do this that you are placrd here/^ 
 Tiie great mocarch who is an exarxiple to tbe age 
 in which he lives, and whcfe con :ii«5t v^ill become a 
 model to future kings, rifes every morning in iu!n- 
 mer at four o'clock, and in winter at five. The pe- 
 titions of his fubjccls, the diipitches from foreign 
 powers, the public documents of the ft ite, w'r.ich 
 were prefer ted the preceding evening, or have 
 arrived during the night, are placed before him^ on 
 a tabk. He cpens aud perafes the contents of ev- 
 ery paper ; and then diftribu'es them into three 
 heaps. One, wnich requires difpatch, he anfwers 
 immediately ; the other he prepares, by remarks 
 written in the margin with ids own hand, for the 
 miniiters and ether officers of the crown ; the third, 
 which contains neither amufement nor bufmefs, he 
 throws into the fire. I'he iecretaries of ftate, who 
 attend iareadinefs, afterwards cater to receive ki^' 
 Majefty's Commands ; and the bufmefs cf the day 
 is delivered by the monarch into the hands of his 
 fervants, to be performed withcut delay. He then 
 mounts his horfe to review his troops, and receives 
 in the field thofe foreigners who are defircus of 
 being introduced to him. This fcene is fucceeded 
 by the hofpitality of his table, to which he fits down 
 with gaiety and prefence of mind, and enlivens the 
 converfation with fentlmeDts and apothegms which 
 ilrike the mdod by their truth and v.ifdom. 'Ihe 
 fecrctaries re-enter when the repafl is fmlfned, 
 bringing with them, properly and neatly prepared 
 for tne royal approbaii on, thc'fc documents of which 
 they had received the rough draughts in the morn- 
 ing. Between the hours of four and five in the 
 afternoon, the daily bufinefs of the n::tion being 
 concluded, the monarch thisks himfelf at hberty to 
 repofr j and this indulgence conGfts m reading to 
 himfelf, cr having read to him,^he beft compofitions, 
 ancient or miodern, until the hour of fuppei^ arrives. 
 A fovereign who thus employs his hours, may fair*. 
 
t-^Q TJje Influence of Solitude, 
 
 lyexpcffi: that the time of his rainirters, his gener- 
 als, his ciHcers of ftate. fhallnot be iDis-fpenr, 
 
 Many inen will oev^r exert thernfelves except 
 in matters of high imporrance ; n^ver employ their 
 ■talents liit upon great cbje^ls ; and bacaufe they 
 \oit. this opportunity, "will do nothing. Others do 
 iiothirg, becaufe t'^ey do not know how to diftrib- 
 lite their time. They might be able to perform 
 Icme gTv??t -and ufeful action, if <hey would only 
 feize ail the idle half-hours, and employ them to 
 the attaiament of any end they mijht propcfe ; 
 for there are many important events v/hich can on- 
 ly b^ prociiced by flov/ degrees. But th:fig who 
 are not only fubjcfl: to, but are pleafed with and 
 fclici^ continual interruption ; v/hj wiit for the 
 return of good humor, and remain idle until thay 
 feel an inclination to be iaduMrious, v/hich can only 
 he acquired by habit ; who look profpectivdy for 
 that fepibnof complete leifare which no man ever 
 finds ; will loon fallacioufiy conclude, that they have 
 neither opportunitynor power to exert their talents ; 
 and to kill that time which adds a burthen to th$ir 
 lives, will faunter about, and ride from place to 
 place, morning, noon and night, 
 
 Oxie of the greateft and moft v/orthy men 
 that ever adorned SwilTerland, my deceafed friend 
 Ifelin, compofed his Ephemeridcs during the debates 
 in the Sen;ite of Bafil ;* a work which all the no- 
 bilit3^ of Germany ought to fcudy, and many of 
 them have read. Gurov/n ccL-brated MseferjW-h-D 
 now refides at Ofnaburg^ is tqually honored and 
 belovsd by his king, the prince, and all our niinif- 
 ters, as a aian of bufmefs and a true patriot, and 
 m Ofnahurg^ by the nobiiity, clergy, citizens, and 
 
 * Mir. Ifelin was a Re^iiier— While he was compofing h'n Ejjhent' 
 cr'ides, the Senatord of 2; t;^/;/ conceived that he was repiftering their 
 debites, ia the fame manner as the Counfeilors of Zurich thought 
 that the immoital Gefner was coiledlmg ti.eir- proceedings upon his 
 tablets, while hs was in i^O. taking the portiuits of thofe woithies in 
 caricature. 
 
The hfuierxc of Solitude* 1.3 1 
 
 pe?.fant$, raifed himfelf, by the eafy exercife of 
 fpDiiive fancy, to a plnnack of fam^e which few 
 Gcrtnan ^Titer* have been abk to reach. ^ 
 
 C<2/-5i? Ji^r/z/' fays Hor^.c2 ; and this reccm- 
 menJation will extent^ with equal propriety to every 
 hour of our lives. The voluptuous of every de- 
 fcription, ths votariss of Bacchus^ and ths fons of 
 Anacrcon, exhort us to drive away corroding care, 
 to promote inceflixnt gaiety, to enjoy the jfieeting 
 mcmeats as they pafs ; and t::ere is found reafonia 
 thefe precepts, though not in the fenfe in whicli they 
 undenland them, i o enjoy the prefect moments, 
 tbey mun: not be ccniumed in drinking and delijau- 
 chery, but employed io advancing fteadily towards 
 that end we have propofed to attain. We may ]:e 
 folitary even amid tke joys of public life. Morn- 
 ing vilits may be paid at noon, cards of ceremony 
 may becircuhted through hali the town, perfonal 
 apoearances may be recorded in ever/ fafliional le 
 rflemblyjand the m.crning and the eve-ing ftill kept 
 facred to ourfelves. It is only neceflary to adopt 
 fome rep;uhr plan of life, to encourage a fondnefs 
 for home, and an inclination to continue the pur- 
 fuit cf cur defign. It is the man of labor and ap- 
 plication alone v;ho has, duriiig the day, afforded 
 benefit to his neighbor, or fervice to the ibate, that 
 can, in confcience, fix himfslf an whcle night at the 
 gaming-table, without ^aearing or f lying one inter- 
 elling word, and v/ithout, on his return home, be- 
 ing able to recoil -cl any other expreffion than " I 
 have won or 1)11 fo much money." 
 
 Th3 highe ft advantage whicii we derive from 
 lime, and the fole end to v^hxh I would dired thcfi 
 reflefticns, Petrarch has already taught us. " If,'^ 
 fays Petrarch, "ycu fe^l any i::chnation to ftrve. 
 God, in which confius the night ft felicities of cur 
 
 § M. MaF^fer uidlated to his (daughter during the exhibitions cf 
 the theatre aimofl: the -.vhok of hii fugitive pieces, which have lo 
 juftly ijlvfn incmortaiiry ibhis fame. 
 
S3 2 The hfiience of Solituek, 
 
 palure ; if you are difp'-.fed to el -vate tVc mind by 
 the ilndy of litters, which, next to religicn, pro- 
 cures us the trueit pleafures ; if, by your fentiments 
 p.nd writings, you are anxious to leave behind you 
 ibmething that will memcr'.fe your names with pof- 
 terity, ftop the rapid prcgrefs cf your days, ?nd 
 prolong the courfe cf "this mofi: uncertain life : If 
 you feel the leaft inclination to acquire thefe ad- 
 vantages, ily, ch ily, I befeech you, hem the enj -y- 
 ments of the world, and pafs the few remaii:ing 
 (lays you h:ive to live, in Solitude." 
 
 It is net in the power of every man to follow 
 ihis advice ; but there are many who are, in a 
 greater cr lefs degree, mailers of their time, pnd 
 who may, as their inclinations lead them, eiiher 
 preferve'or relinquifh their connexions with the 
 worU, It is, therefore, for the ben^ fit cf fuch cha- 
 raflers that i (hall continue to conlider the advan- 
 tages which Solitude affords. 
 
 Sclitude infpires the mind with exquiiite tane, 
 extends the boundaries of thought, enlarges the 
 fphera of aclion, and dilpenfes a fupericr kind cf 
 ple?Jure,wh!<rh neither time nor acc ident can remove. 
 
 Tafle is refined in Solitude by a moie careful 
 -feleclion of thoCe beauties which bec:me the fub- 
 je^ls cf our contempl-ificn. It depends ent irely up- 
 on ourfelves to m?k2 choice of thofe objects from 
 v/hich we may derive the pure ft pleiifure ; to read 
 thofe writings, to encourage thcfer-fl^clions which 
 moPc tend to purify the mind, and ftore it whli tbe 
 Ticlieft varic: ty of im-^.ges . Repofm g wi th fecuri ty 
 upon the efta?! liihed v/ifdom cf others rather than 
 iipen our own judgment, the mind efcapes the con- 
 tagion cf thoie falfe notions v/hich are fo eaiily 
 adopted by ih? wcrH. To be obliged co::tinu?dly 
 to tell one's fHf, This i? the ler. timer t which ycti 
 muil er.t:_rtuin/' is indipocrt-iLl?. "Why, slas ! 
 will no- iVie^: drive, by [ree choice and reflecflion, 
 according to the nature cf the fubjed', to gain opin- 
 
The Influence cf Solitude* 13^ 
 
 i "jHs of their own, ruther than fubmit to be gnidecj 
 by the arbitrary di£ljtes of others ? Of what im- 
 portance is it to me, th?.t I he beau monde approves of 
 a writhig that pleales me ? In what do ycu infjruct 
 me, ye cold and muerable critics ? Does your judg- 
 ment maks m.e feel that which is truly fine, ocbie, 
 good and excellent, with higher rehih ? How c^n 1 
 fubmit to the deciiion of that partial tribunal which 
 decides upon the u:erit of works by arbii rary agree- 
 m.ents, examines all irregularly, and generally de- 
 termines wrong ? What opinion mufi: i entertain of 
 the multitude, who only repeat what ycu direft 
 them to lay, a.nd who fpe?.k your fentiments through 
 the channel of the public ? What reliance can be 
 placed in the reclitude of your jadgm.ents v/hen, in 
 reviewing the m.oit cleteitable publications, you can 
 pronounce that the whole is excellent, becaufe a cer- 
 tain perfon of Hterary renown, upon v/hofe v/ord 
 ycu would condemn the chaf:efl work, has thought 
 proper to praife it ? 
 
 It is impcfTible ever to difcover or fee the en- 
 cha'^.ting beauties of truth, unlefs we entirely relin- 
 Quidi the fociety of this clafs of readers ; for they 
 i ]f:cl the judgment before we fufpeQ: them. But 
 enlip-htened minds, whofe correft tafte immediately 
 d'.ftinguiihes beauties from, defecls ; who become; 
 entr.uiiafdc and impafiioned admirers of all that is 
 excellent, while they feel a natural difguH: at that 
 v;hich is bad *, who enjoy the works of true genius, 
 and faiter the fevereit pain froni dullnefs, abfurdity, 
 and bom-bail, willingly retire from the crowd, anJ 
 alone, or with a few chofen friends, resign thein- 
 ielves to the pleafure of a tranquil interccurfe vAih. 
 ?ii that antiquity or m.cdern ages have produced 01 
 diftinguifhed excellence. 
 
 it i«i then we learn how much we -are capable 
 of contributing to the perftclion and happinrfs of 
 nur na!ure5 and experience the mcft agreeable fen- 
 lations of our exiilence ; it is then thai we corcrat- 
 (XII) 
 
134 ^'^^ Influence of SolkucL'* 
 
 ulate ourfelves on the pcfTefTion of cur mental pvow- 
 ers in the fubje6ts cn which they are employed ; it 
 is then v/e feel, that with fuch charaders we exert 
 cur faculties to the advcintige of curfelves, to the 
 ple.dbre of our friends, and p=rhaps alfo, at fome 
 future period, to tne happinefs of fyrapathetic 
 mind?, to wiioin we are yet unknown, and to 
 whom, iadeed, the pen of truth can never be dif- 
 .pleaiiiig. 
 
 Schtu:''e gives new vigor to the a£livity of the 
 miiid, multiplies the number of its ideas, and extends 
 its fources of informal ion by rendering our curiofi- 
 ty more lively, our application more indefatigable, 
 vur perf--verar.c5 mere firm. 
 
 A man who w^as well acquainted with nil thefe 
 advantiiges, has faid, that by flent, folitary re- 
 fieclion, we ex.rcife and ftrergthen all the powers 
 of the mind : the many obfcurities which rend^ir it 
 difiiicult to puriue cur path, difperfe and retire, and 
 we re', urn to a bufy, foci?l hfe with more cheerful- 
 nefs and content. The fphere cf cur underftand- 
 Ing becomes enhrgsd by refle^licn ; we have learn- 
 ed to furvey more ohj£61:$, and to bind them intel- 
 le£l:ualiy together ; v e carry a clearer fight, a jufter 
 judgment, and firmer principles, with us into the 
 world in which v/e are to live and acl ; and are thea 
 more able, even in the midft of ail its diiirattions, 
 to preferve our attention, to ihiiik with accuracy, 
 to determine with judgment, in a de^-ree propor- 
 tioned to the preparations we have made in the hcur 
 of retiremeot." 
 
 The curiofity of a ratioi:al mind is, in the cr- 
 dinary tranfa^lions of the world, v ry fooa fatisfi- 
 ■ed ; but in Solitude it augments dcday. Ti:e hu- 
 man mind, in its rdcarches after trut?., cannot im- 
 mediately difcover the er.d it wilhes to attain : it 
 links proof to cb'erv/ticr!, j :in3 experience to con- 
 clufion, and by cr;^ iriith dcvelcpes another. The 
 -aftrcnomers who iir^t obferved the courfe of the 
 
The Influence of Solitude, 13 j 
 
 pl'ine's, did not forefce the extenfive influence 
 which their difcoveries would one day produce up- 
 on the hr.ppinefs and inursjis of mankind. De- 
 lighted to view the fuite cf the firm;^ment during the 
 progrefs of the night, an:! perceiving that the rtars 
 changed their fitaations, their ciirioiity induced 
 them to explore the caufes cf that which excited 
 their admiration, and determined ~ them to purfue 
 thi road of fcience. It is thus, by filent afiiivity, 
 that the foul augments its pov/ers ; and a contem- 
 plative mind will always gain advantage in propor- 
 tion us it reflcfls upon the immediate caufes, tbe- 
 ei?ec^5, and the psllibie coniequeaces, of an eflib- 
 lifhed truth. 
 
 Tne mind, when the imagination is regulated 
 by the lev^4 cf reafcn, proceeds with iru:h iefs ra- 
 pidity ; bur it never takes the finne ftfpS after-vvard* 
 that it did before. Men v. ho pfniiiL thenifelv^s to 
 be drawn afiie by the charms of faac^^, conftrnd 
 worlds, which immediately burft like airy bub; l?s ■ 
 of foap and water ; while rational minds examine 
 the materials of their prcje^lied fabric, and ufb 
 thcfe only which are good. " The great art 
 learn much,'* fays Lccke, " is to undertake ahttk 
 at a time." 
 
 Dr. Johnfon, the celebrated Erglifh writer^, 
 has very happily faid, " Ail the performances cf 
 kupjan art, at which we look with praifs cr won* 
 der, are inflar.cfs of the r^fi'llsfs force of perfeve- 
 ranee: it is by this, that fh - quarry becomes apy* 
 ramid, and tnat diiirat cruntne? are united by ca- 
 nals. If a man was to ccoodre the effr-ft of a fm- 
 gle uroke cf the pick-sxe, cr cf an imprellion cf a 
 fpade, with the geiierd defign and fair refalt, he 
 would be overwhelmed by the fenfe cf iheir difprc- 
 poution ; yet thofa petty operations, iivreiTa-.tly 
 contiaurd, in time furmount the greatefw difficukic?,. 
 and m-^untains are kvcUed, and oceans bounded^ 
 by the ilendcr force cf huuitin brings. It is there-^- 
 
1^6 The Injluenci; of SoUiude, 
 
 fere of the u':mcft impcrt::!nce that thoC^ who hr.ve 
 a: ly intenticn cf deviatbg from the beaten roads of 
 life, and acquiring a repiitaticn itiperior to name.i 
 hourly f.vept away by tiaie among t/:e refufe of 
 fame, fhouid add to their realbn, and their Iplrit, 
 the power of perhfting in their purpofes ; acquire 
 the arc of fapping what they cann.?t better ; aad ihs 
 habit of var quiihing obiliaate rehftance by obftl- 
 iiate r tracks.'* 
 
 A6livity animates the mofl favage def.irt, con--' 
 verts the dreary cell into a lively world, gives im- 
 mortal gbry to the gemu^. who meditates in the fi- 
 ience of retirement, and crov/ns the ingenious art- 
 ifl: v/ho produces his chcf-d^aouvrcs I'rom a fclitary 
 v/ork-fhop with unfading fame, 'i'he mind^ in prc- 
 pordon to the difficulties it meets v/ith, ana the re- 
 I'iila'ice it has to furm.ount, exercifes its powers 
 'ivith higher pleafare, and raii'^s i' s efforts with great- 
 tr ze?J, to attain fuccefs. Apelles being reproached 
 with the foiall number cf pi6lures he had painted, 
 and the inceiiant r.f.enticn with which he re-touch- 
 ed liis wcrks, contenre i himfVlf with m:king this 
 reply : 1 paint for pcfcrl'y:' 
 
 'To recommend mcn:i:;ic notions of Sclitrid^, 
 ?md the flerile trancu-Hily of the cloifter, to men 
 who, after a rsricnc preparation in retirement, ar-d 
 2X1 affidiious i::tircourfe v/ith their own minds, are 
 capable cf perfcrmirg great and good a(5cion3 in fh.e 
 world, would be ex!rav::gant and abfurd. FrinC(?s 
 cx^.'^ ji ''v^ ihe lif? ' f ii^-^nk? ; mlni Lers of flateare 
 jij l.i—:': ^'/uvr't in tho :~[:nce of th? crnvcnt; ge- 
 licr. ls are 1.0 1 ;nger chcien from the members of 
 the ciu-ch. Petrarch therefore aptly fiys, " Icon- 
 r"e:i^n the Sdltiide which encourages 11 th, and the 
 i'e-.iure which is idly and u •prciiiabi}' employed : 
 -Solitude xiiii. be rendered ui'-hil to many pnrpcfes 
 cfliie. A man who is ind' hnt, llilh-bl, and de- 
 tached froTi the world, mufl inevitably become rac- 
 Iduchchr 6iad iiiiie*able, buch a character can n;v^ 
 
Influence of ^ditude% j^7? 
 
 er ^0 any good ; he cannot religa hirafelf to any 
 iifcful Icience, cr purfue any objeft worthy the a> 
 tenticn of a great man." 
 
 He may, however, procure to himft lf thepleri-- 
 fures of the mind ; thcfe precious plcafnres, (b ca- 
 fily icquired, fo open to the licceis of all mankind : 
 for it is only in thofe pleafures which are fold for- 
 money, when^/m the iriind has no pardcipaticn, and 
 which only teed to afFord a moii-entary relief to 
 languor, oV. to drown the frnfes in forge if ulr.efs, 
 that the great claim an exciufive riciht ; but in thofe 
 delights which the mind is capable of procuring for 
 its peculiar erjoyment, they have no privilege ; de- 
 lights, which are reared by our own induiiry, by 
 ferious reflection, profound thought, deep refearch, 
 and which produce the more hidden fruits of know- 
 ledge, the love of truth and a contemplation of the 
 perfection of cur nioral and phyiicai nature. 
 
 A preacher from SwiiTerland has in a German 
 pulpit laid, " The itreams of mental pleafures, 
 thofe which, of courfe, all men of whatever conul- 
 tion may equally partake, flow from one to the oth- 
 er : the uream of which v/e have mof-: frequently 
 tailed, lofes neither its flavor nor its virtue, but fre^ 
 quently acquires new charms, and G:',nveys addi- 
 tional pkaiure the cftener it is t?ited. The fu^- 
 jects of ihefe pleafures are as unbcunded as thv? ' 
 reign of tmth, as exiei:fiveas the v/orld, as unlim- 
 ited as the divijDe perf-ction. The inccrporeal 
 pkafares, therefore, are much more durable tl aa 
 ;ill others. They neither difappear with the light 
 of the day, nor chan^.:e v/iih the extern?] ftrms of 
 things, nor defcaid v/i*h cur bodies to the tomb ; 
 but continue v/hik we txid ; accompany us unc!er 
 all tlie viciflitud'^s, aot ocly of cur inort^.ilife, but 
 of that which is to com.e ; lecure us in the durk ieis - 
 of the night; and compenfate f jr all the miferi(;S 
 we are doomed to fuffex.'' 
 
 Meacf cx-tked i^i^i-^s iheref..re have always^ 
 (XK2) ' 
 
13 ^ The Influence of Soiltiide.. 
 
 iimkiri the biiule of the gay world, and even in {he 
 brilli?.nL career cf hercifrn, preferved a taite tor 
 mental pieaPuras. Engaged in affairs of the raoix 
 important ccnfequence, notwithiiaiiding tre variety 
 of otje<5ts by which their attention was dlllr riled^ 
 they were fill raithful to the mufes, and fondly de- 
 voted their minds to the peruf.il of the works of 
 genius. Thry gave no credit to the idea, that read- 
 ing and knowledge are uieleis to great men ; and 
 frequenily coadeTcended, wirhout a blufh, to be- 
 come writers theirielves. VJheu Philip, king of 
 Maccdon^ invited Di r-nyfius the Yourger to dine 
 "v/ith him at Cor'mth^ he felt an inciination to deride 
 the father of his royal giieft , becaufe he had blend - 
 4'd the charafters cf fovereiscn and poet, and had 
 employed his hifnre in writing odes and tragedies. 
 " Kow could the king find i-dfure,'' f lid Philip, " to 
 write thele trides r''^"' In thofe hour?," anfwered 
 Dionyfius, ^' v/nich ycuand I fpend in drunkenaefs 
 iind Gebauchery," 
 
 Alexander was remarkably fend of reading. 
 Wkilil he was iilliog the vvcrld witli the fame cf his 
 vi^lories, markirg his prr;gr.:f3 by blood and fiauph- 
 ter, draggir.g captive monarch? at his charict-v»'h:':els, 
 marching ever frnokir.g towns and ravaged provin- 
 ces, and led on x&ili increv-fm^; ardcr to new vic- 
 tories, he felt niai^y intervals of tine hang heav^?- 
 on his hands, and iam.emed that Jfia ailcrded him 
 no becks to aniufe his leifure. He v/rcte therefore 
 to Harpalus, to fend him the works of Philijlus^ the 
 tra-i^edies cf Euripides^ Soploclcs^ Ejcbylus^ aud tiie 
 dithyrambics cf ThaLfles, 
 
 'Brutus, the aveager of the violated Tberty cf 
 Rome, v/hile Ihrving in the army under Pom.pey, 
 empl ";yed among books all t;^e moments he cuU 
 fpare frcm the duties of his ii:aticn. 1 he hours 
 •which v/ere allotted to the repoie of the army, he 
 devoted to reading aad wr'ti^-g ; and he was even 
 ti^us emplo}^ed in the evening prccc^din^ the batJs 
 
Vm hfuence of ^oTiiuJe, 
 
 cf Pharfilia ; the celebrated battle l^y which the 
 eiTipire of the univerie was decided. 1 he army 
 was encamped in a mirihy pbia ; it was the ipad- 
 dle of fuPiimer, and the h;^at of the feaibn exceffive. 
 Thf fervants who bore the tent of Brutus did not 
 arrive until a hte hour. Being much fatigued, ha 
 bathed, and tc wards noon cauled his bcdy to be 
 rubbed with oil, while he waited their c.rrival. 1 ta- 
 king fome liitle refrefhmeni,. he retired to his rent, 
 ?.nd while others were locked ii: the arms cf fleep, 
 or contempLiting the proliable event of the eiifaing 
 day, he employed himieif, during the night, ia 
 drawing a plan from the Hiilcry cf Pcljbliis, 
 
 CiCcro, who was more fenfible cf men t:l plea- 
 fures than any other char:61:er, fivs, in his oration 
 for the poet 'Jrchlas, Why 111 ju Id 1 be adir.med 
 to acknowledge pleafures like thefe, fmce, for lb 
 many 3^e:irs, the enjoyment of them has never pre- 
 vented' me from reheving the wants of other?, or 
 deprived m.e of the courage to attack vice and de- 
 
 , fend \nrtue ? W^ho can juldy blame, who can cen- 
 fnre me, if, while others are purluing the views- cf 
 intcreft, gazing at fellal Ih^ws aiid idle ceremonies, 
 expbrirg new pleafures, er.gr.ged in midnight rev- 
 els, in tne dillracticn of gauging, ihe madnefsof in- 
 temper3.nce, neither reoofn'^g tp.e b vciy nor recrea- 
 ting the mind, 1 Ipend the reccllectve hcurs in a 
 
 I pleaiing review of m.y pari: life, in dedicating m.y 
 
 1 time to learning; and the-mufes." 
 
 Pliny the Elder, full of the fime fpirit, devo- 
 
 I ted every moment of h.s life to learning. Some 
 perfon ciways read to him during his mrals ; and 
 he never travelled without a b:ck and portabb 
 whting-delk by his fide. He made extrafts fraiii 
 evfry work he read ; and fcarcely conceiving him- 
 ielf alone while his faculties were abf^rbed in ileep, 
 he endeavored by his diligence to double the dunv 
 ticn cf his exii]:ence. 
 
 I'iiny the Younger read ^:^-:icreverit w;:s p:fl> 
 
1 40 ^h'e hijluence of Bclitude* 
 
 ble, wlrether ridbg, walking, fitting, cr whenever 
 the lubject cf hi's eniplcyment afforded him an op- 
 pr;riumty ; for he msde it, indeed, m invariable 
 rule to prefer the dilcharge of his duty to thofecc-- 
 cupations which he follov/ed cnly a? aa aiBufement. 
 Ir was this difpoftioa which fo frongly inclined 
 him to Soliiude and retirement. " Shall I never 
 break," f;id he, the chains by which I em with-|| 
 held ? Are they indiiToluble ? No ! i dare not hopel 
 f -.T fuch an event ! Every da}^- adds new tcrmentsl 
 to th? former. Scarcely is one duty performed, 
 than another is iQ-ipofed ; acd the chain of bufmefs 
 becomes every day more heavy and oppreflive." - 
 
 Fetrarch was always gloorp.y and lQV/-fpinted,j 
 except while he v/as reading or writing, efpeciallyl 
 when he was prev(t'nt':£d from religning himfelf ia || 
 Sohtude to the fine prirenHes of poetry on the banks - 
 of fome inlpiring f^reani, among the romantic rocks 
 and mcuutains, or the fiower-eD.amelled vaUies, of 
 the Alps. To avoid the Icfs ,of time during his- 
 travels, he conilantly wrote at every inn where he 
 f'.opped f.:r 3-cfr.?[hment. One of his friends, the 
 biili p of Cayillon, being alarmed, left the intents 
 appiiciitio;! v/ith which he read and wrote when at 
 Vautlufc^ fhould entir:;iy d-^-roy his health, which 
 v/as already greaily isnpa^re j, deCred him one day- 
 to give him the key of his h^br:-iry. Petrarch gave 
 it to him. Immcdljicb/, v/ithout fufpeclir-g the mo- 
 tive of his Riqiieii ; v/he:i the good bifhop inftantiy 
 lockin.s; up his bocks and v/riting-delk, faid, " I 
 iaterd:'5t you fnjm pen, ink, p?per and books, fcr 
 thi fcce cf ten days." Petrarch fslt the feverity 
 of the fenteno^, but conquered the violence of his 
 •feeling?, and obeyed. 1 he fiidl day appeared long- 
 er to iiim than a ye:tr ; on xhe fecoad, he was af- 
 flicte^d With the head-ache from morning till ni?ht ; 
 iind on ihe third, he was attacked by a fever. I'he 
 bi'hop, aillcled by thi condition to which he w.;& 
 
The Influence of BoUhuIe, 1 4 1 
 
 re.^;uced, returned him the key, and reftcred him 
 to health. 
 
 1 ne late Earl of Chatham, as I have been in- 
 formed b}^ his cwa nephrrv, ray intimate friend^ 
 was, in his youth, cornet in a regiment of dragoons, 
 w.iich was quartered in a fmall town in EngLtnd. 
 He difci:iargcd his diicy, up3n all occafions, with 
 fcrupulcu-:; a' tention ; but the moment his duty 
 v/as performed j he retired to Solitude during the 
 remainder of the day. and employed his hours alone, 
 wiihout vifiting or being vifited, in reading the mcll 
 celebrated amhors of Roine and Athens, Attacked 
 at an early piriod of life by an hereditary gout, 
 which he 'wifhed to eradicate, his mode of l.ving 
 was extremely frugal and abftemious. The feeble 
 ftate of his hrcalth perhaps made h'm fond of retire- 
 ment ; but it was certainly in Solitude that he laid 
 the foundation of that glory which he afterwards 
 acquired. 
 
 Characters like this, it will perhaps be fald, are 
 not now to be found ; but, in my opinion, both 
 tne affertion and the idea would b^ ^nzTicvw^s 
 Was the Earl of Chatham infen:r in greatnefs to 
 a Roman ? And will his fon who, v/nile yet a youth, 
 thundered f:rth his eloquence In the fenate hke 
 Demoiiihenes, and, hke Perichs, captivated the 
 hearts of all who heard him ; v\ ho now, when htile 
 more tha.n thirty years of ag?, makes himfelf fear- 
 ed and refprcted as the Prime Miniiler of the Bri- 
 tifh em.pire, ever t';. ink or a 61, under any circuni- 
 ftan:es, with lefs greatnefs than his illuflrious fa- 
 ther ? What men have once been, they niay always 
 b3. Europe now produces men as great as ever 
 fwayed tr.e fceptre, or commanded the annies of 
 Greece or Rome. Wifdom and virtue, where an 
 inchnation to attain them preva'ls, may increafe as 
 much in public as in private hi e, as well in th^ pa- 
 laces of kinn;s as under the roof of the humble cot- 
 tage. Wife Solitude is no where more refpeolable 
 
l42 The Infiucucc of ^d'ltude. 
 
 than in the pr/iiice. 1 he ftatefmaD TCi?.y there, la 
 profound trar.quillity, plan the mcil important en- 
 terprizes, and live vviii-i c?i:nnef3 and arntent, pro- 
 vided he difclxirges his duty without cftentation, 
 and avoids the contagion of weak and friv^dcus 
 minds. InCrucdon m?.y be acquired at a!l time.^, 
 2nd in every pl.xe ; and although it n:ay be diffi- 
 cult to return from the p:R.!.h which a man has once 
 trod, and commence a new career, he may wifely 
 employ the remainder of his days, uniefs while he 
 has the power to diiplay th? fieady righ.t of truth 
 he contends himfelf with emitting the occafional 
 twinkling of ihe gl jw-vv\cnn. 
 
 Solitude will ultimately render the mind fupe* 
 rior to ail the viciffitudes and miferies of Hfe. iVe 
 man to whofe boibm neither riches, nor pleafure, 
 nor grandeur, can convey felicity, may, with a bock 
 hi his hand, learn to forget his cares under the 
 frivtndiy (hade of every tree. Tie taftes the plea- 
 fares whicli Solitude affords with exquifite delight ; 
 pleafures hvely and varied, pure and for ever new. 
 At his defk he feels h's mind exert itfelf with frefh 
 vigor ; ths exercif^ of his facalpes then aliords him 
 the moft pleafing feiifation of his exiPcence, and in- 
 fpires an idea of the chara6l;'r which he may in fu- 
 tur.?, ifheplealis, attain. If his views are great, 
 and his inclination^; pure, the pleafures of Solitude 
 become proportionably great and good ; he f^-ars in 
 a greater degres the pernicious pdfui of flattery , 
 and rejrccs with higher difdain the purfuit cf idle 
 and frivjlous av.iufementp. 
 
 He who Ihuas the fociety of men in order to 
 obtain their love and eitcem, who rifes with the fiui 
 to held conveife with the dead, is, without doubt, 
 cot booted at the: break cf djiy. The fecrfes of fuch 
 a man repofe qniedv in their fl.ills, and his doers 
 remain carefully bcl'.rd againft the intrufion of idle 
 loungers. He f.udies, hov/rvcr, both tii^u and man-- 
 iiersj never. Lies fight of the. iraufactioas cf ths 
 
Ttje Inf tienca of S'litiid'e, 143 
 
 v/orld ; cafls a retrofpeclive eye upon the know- 
 ledge which his ituely and experieace have R-ained ; 
 and every oblervatioii v. hich he makes on hfe, cc!i- 
 firms a truth or refutes a prejudice: for in Soli- 
 tude, the v/hcle f^'flem of Ufe is unveiled, liripped 
 cf its falfe glare, and rep'^eleated in its natural Hate 
 to cur view : truth, which ia the common inter- 
 courfe of men always hes corxealed, here exhibits 
 itfelf in naked fimplicity. Ah 1 how happy is that 
 man who has attained to a lituation where he is not 
 under the necefiity of difguifing truth ! 
 
 But thefe plcafures of Solitude not incom- 
 patible with our duty to the public, fmce they are 
 the ncblzft excrcifes in which we can employ cur 
 faculties f.:r the g.3od of mankind. Can it, in any 
 Ctuanon, be a crime to honor, to adore, end £1- 
 credly to fpeak the tru'.h? Can it be a crime bold- 
 ly and publ'cly to announce, as tlie occafion m^y 
 require, that which an ordinary individual w- uki 
 tremble to thit;k of? and to prefer a generous free- 
 dcm to a conanual rcf: rain! ? is not the liberty of 
 the prefs the channel through w'rxh writers difcfe 
 the light of truth among the people, and difplay its 
 radiance to the eyes of the great ? Good writers 
 infpire the mind with courage to think ; and is not 
 the free c rmmunication of lentirnent a caufe cf the 
 prcgref?. and improvement of hamsn reafoa ? It is 
 precifely this love cf liberty w]:ich leads men into 
 Soli'u:]e, that they may throw off the chains by 
 which tliey are confined in the world : it is from 
 this difpohrion to be free, that he who thinks in 
 SoUtude boldly fpeaks a language which perhaps in 
 focieiy he v/ould nor havedT:red to hazard without 
 prr?caution. Timudi^y never finds its way into So- 
 litu:"!e. 1 he man who has courage to retire under 
 pe?,cefnl, • lonely fhades, c'ifdains to ex-rcife a bafe 
 fubmifilon to the pride an l infclfnce cf the great, 
 and boldly terrs from the face of defpot'.fm tlie mafic 
 by which it is concealed. 
 
€44 2^'^'-' Injluence of Solitude, 
 
 Soli'ude conveys" the mo:'l fublune and kfling 
 pleafares to the f :ul, u.r.lefs the body v.^hich it iri- 
 habits be entirely der?y:\i ; ple-ilures which inipirc 
 ferenity in every fitur.ti n of life, aliV rd coi;foiaticn 
 under all its^ mirfcrtunes, co.nir.ue fcr evt r unex- 
 haufitd, and at length become as nscelinry to cur 
 happinefs, as it is to ihe debaiiclied iinn:] of a man 
 of the world to be for ever trifling, inr.6live, or run- 
 nhig from door. to door in fearck of conteinprible 
 joys that sre never to be fourd. Cic~ro, fpeaking 
 of the pleafures of the mind, f^'ys, ^' They employ 
 us io youth, and amufe us in old age ; in prcfperi- 
 ty they grace and eniheilifh, in adverfity they af- 
 ford us ihelrer and fuppnrt ; delightful at home, 
 and eafy abroad, they fcften flumber, fhorten fa- 
 tigue a-^.d enliven retirement.*' — " The Belles Let- 
 tres," fays Phny the Younger, "are my delight 
 and confoLition. 1 knov>^ of no kudy mere agreea- 
 ble : there is no m'sforlmie which they c?nnot rdle- 
 viate. In the pfBictir-ns 1 fe.d fcr the fufFerings of 
 my wife, ihe finknefs cf niy fervanrs, the death of 
 iny friends, I fi:id no relief but in my fludies ; fcr, 
 although 1 am then made fen^ihl^e of the magnitude 
 of mv evils, thev neverthehfs become more fuo- 
 pcrtabb/^ 
 
 Phibfophy, a love cf I tters, cll that affords 
 pleafnre or adds dignilv to retirement, can only bj 
 !e?rned in Solitude. Fine (afhe cannot be either 
 cultivated or preferred among thofe vain pretenders 
 who, while you difconrfe v»^i<h them upcn fubje<^s 
 cf fcience, fpeak of learning with contempt, and fre- 
 qnently tell you with a fneer, "Oh! 1 cever in- 
 quire into fuch vulgp.r thirgs." 
 
 The habit cf thinking, of making new difccv- 
 ^ries, of acqnirin?^: new ideriF, is a never-failing re- 
 foirrce to him v/ho feels his mind enrcred by cb- 
 ferva ion, Rx;d knows how to apply the knowledge 
 v/hich I'.e'gain^. When Demetrius hud captured 
 the city Alegar a, the foidicrs prepared to plunder 
 
7il}e Influence of Solttiid^. iaS 
 
 \t ; the Athenians, however, interceding flrongly 
 for its inhabitants, prevailed. Demetrius was fat- 
 isfied with expelling the garrlfon, and declared th« 
 city free. Amid thefe tranfacdons,^ he recclleded 
 Siilpo, a philofopher of great repntation,who fought 
 only the retirement and tranquillity of a ftudious 
 life. Having fent for him, Demetrius alked if they 
 had taken any thing from him — " No," replied 
 Stilpo, Ifowichione thai wanted to fieaiany hmvkdgeJ^ 
 ScUiude is the channel through which ail thofe 
 things flow which men conceal in the ordinary com- 
 merce of life. The wounded feelings of a man who 
 is able and difpofed to write, may,^in Solitude, de- 
 rive the greatefl comfsrts from literary compofition. 
 The pen, indeed, is not always taken up becaufe 
 ve are alone ; but if v/e are inclined to write, it is 
 indifp^nfably neceffary that we fhould enjoy undif- 
 turbsd quietude. The man difpofed to cultivate 
 philofophy, or to court the mufe, mufl be free from 
 all embarraflinent. He mull not hear his children 
 crying every moment at the door, nor mufl his fer- 
 vants incefTantly intrude with meilages of ceremony 
 and cards of comphnient. In fhort, he muft be 
 alone. Whether walking in the open air, or feated 
 in his clofet, reclined under the fhade ofarfpread- 
 ing tree, or ftretched upon his fopha, he muil follow 
 all the irapulfes of his irind, and be at liberty to 
 chan^^e his fituatioa when and where he pleJifes* 
 To write with fuccefs, he mml: feel an irrefifiible 
 inclination, and be able to obey the dictates of his 
 ■tafte and genius without impediment cr reflraitir. 
 Unlefs all thefe advantages be united, the pr.':grtfs 
 of the work muil be interrupted, and the eliorts of 
 the mind fufpended, uniil it feels that divme infpir- 
 ation which is capable of fubduing every difficulty, 
 and fur mounting every cbibcle. An 'author can 
 never write well, unlefs he feels a fecret call within 
 his breaft, unlefs he watches ^for thofe propitious 
 moments when the mind pours forth its ideas, and 
 (XIII) 
 
146 The Influence cf Solitude, 
 
 the her.rt w-.r-n=^; with th- fubjeci-. Revived by 
 <5heerful prc.i;>-:c>:% ' ' * -.1 bv the noble^ fenti- 
 fnenrsj urged by CO . f c-ifilciilties, the mind 
 
 will niuke a povv-enbi e;r..it, ]e t houghts, in 
 
 iuirable expiTfli-ns, fl .w ip-n!:ane.)ufly from 
 his pen. I h.,: q-ellir n. wher er he cughl: or ought 
 not To write, wul t!;ei be ref -iv /d. The inclin:i- 
 tion is irrehn:ible aaci will "e i ^dulge:!, even at the 
 expiree cf fortune, fainiiy, fricn ..s, p^troiis, and 
 all that we pcflels. 
 
 ].'etr:ir:h thlt this fecret in^pulfe when he tore 
 himfelf fr:m Avignon^ them hi vicious and corrupt- 
 . ed city cf his time, to which ihf Pope had ti'Tnis- 
 ferred the p';.p-d chair. Aklioiig h nored wit : the 
 •-protection of t .e holy father, of prin^-^es :;nd cardi- 
 'nals, frill yo'sr.g nnd fiih ;.f ;] bi^ cri'or, he exiled 
 -himfelf from thtit brilliant c-..)urr, aiiJ re (ire. I to th« 
 famous Solitude of ^^z/r/zz/a', at ih:^ chtlmce ofnx 
 leagues from Aviivwi^ where h hid ^ rJy one fer- 
 vant to attend h:u], and all his p hichi: iis c -nCf:ed 
 of a finall houie and li' de «^,.rde :. ' h=ir: ned with 
 the natural beauty v/aich funound .d ih's hunable 
 retreat, he removed his library n:- if ; andj during 
 his refidence there, compl?ted all rhs w. ■•nSjof v/?.'ch 
 before he had only j1< t . he ' th:^ o \ ih. :ies . Pt tr Ar ; h 
 wrote more at Vauclufc than at any other pp.:^e w'xra 
 he refided ; but, althou^:h he w.is co t'ln^niilv em- 
 ployed in polifhing his writhig'^, he h iita ^^d \ yz% 
 before he could refdve to niake them pu* f ;. Vir- 
 gil calls the leifure v/hic . he enjoyed ■ t Ihipks igno- 
 ble and obfcure ; but it wa^ during this Idibre t'^at 
 he wrote his Georgics. the UKhl perfeht of all his 
 works, and which fn:-v/s in alinoii every hne that 
 he wrote for imnnarrahty. 
 
 Every great a^d ex-:elh^nt wri^'^rha-^ this i^o'^le' 
 view, and locks wba cat' ufiahn towards t^e luhra- 
 ,g£S of pcfterity. An inferior writer aibs a more 
 moderate recompence, and ibi:.ienmes obtains the 
 defired reward. B^th^ licwevcr, muli v/ithdraw 
 
Ihe hjlumce of Solitude, I47 
 
 fr.*;m the diRnichons of the world, (eek the filenc^ 
 cf the foreft, and the frefhncTs of the fhade, and 
 retire as it were into th-ir own minds. To prcduce 
 a work capable of reach'ng futu!-e ge ;er-;.tions, or 
 wcrthy of the attention of c.-.temponiry fage?, the 
 love c f Srlitu e mufl: er.tirily occr.py the foul ; fcr, 
 to the adva\:t:g€3 rcfu.lting from Solitude, every 
 thinfx thsy perform, all that they obt^:in, mull: be 
 attiibuted. Every advantage a wTiter gains by 
 profour:d thinking is due to Solrtude; he there re- 
 vievvs-a: .d arranges hatev^r in t"e world "has made 
 an imprefiion on his mind, and l]iarp*ns the dart of 
 fatire sgainft the inve^err.cy of prfjudxe and the 
 obflinacy cf opinion. 1 he fi^ults of mankind {hike- 
 the moral writer, and the defire cf correcting thsni 
 a^ita^es his Ibul as r^iiich as t'^e dcfre of pleafing 
 aclaates that of ethers. I'he dtfire of imiriCitalify, 
 however, ]s the lalt in which a writer ought to in- 
 dulge. No one need altrmpt it, unltfs he pofTsfs 
 t ' e gonius cf a Bacon — can think with the acutenefs 
 of a Vcltoire ; compofe with the eafe end ei?gance 
 of a RouiTeau ; and, like them, is able to produce 
 mailer-pieces worthy of being tranfniiitf d to poiier- 
 ity. Charr^ters like thefe alone, can fay, " Our 
 minds are animated by the fw^et, conr;]atory re- 
 fleclion, chat our nam^-s will be rem-embered when 
 v/e are no more, by ths plealing whifper of flattery 
 which we hea.r from feme of our cotemporaries, of 
 the approbation v/e (hnll hereafter receive from 
 thofe who are yet unborn, to whofe inftruclion and 
 happinefs we have, with all the ardor cfefteem. and 
 love, devoted cur labors. We feel within us thole ■ 
 feeds cf emulation which exc te us to refcue from 
 death cur better part, and whidi prevent the hap- 
 pieil m.cmxents of our lives from being buried in ob» 
 livij-n.'^ 
 
 The love of fame, cs well by f eble light^ 
 cf the lamp as on the throne or in the field cf b?.tile, . 
 produces a6lion$, the memory of \\hich is not ev-- 
 
M8 The Influence of SQlltude, 
 
 tinguifhed by mortcility, nor buried \vith us m the 
 tcmb. The meridian of life becomes then as bril- 
 liant as its morning. " Ths praifes/' fays Plutarch, 
 
 beflowed upon great and exalted minds only fpur 
 on and rcufe their emulation. Like a rapid torrent, 
 the glory v;hich ihey have already acquired hurries 
 them irrenitibly on to every thing that is great and 
 noble. They never confider themlclves fufHciently 
 rewarded. I'heir prefent scl:ions are only a pledge 
 of v/hat may be expected from them, and they 
 would blufn not to live faithful to their glory, and- 
 to render itftill more iiluflirious by the nob led deeds*" 
 The man to wkofe ear idle adulation and iniip- 
 id compliment is difguuing, will feel his heart v^arm 
 "^'hen he hears vyiih v»hat enthuliafm Cicero fays. 
 
 Why fhculd we diiTemble what it is impolTible 
 for us to conceal ? Why fliculd we not be proud 
 of confeiFrng candidly that we all afpire to fame ? 
 The love of praife iniluences all mankind, and the 
 greateil minds are mcft fufceptible of it. The phil- 
 cjicphers who molt preach up a contempt for fame, 
 prefix their names to their works ; and the very 
 perfonnances in which they dscry cftentation are 
 evident proofs of their vanity and love of praife. 
 Virtue requires no other reward for all the toils and 
 dangers to which fne expoles herfelf, than tliat of 
 fame and gbrr. — Take away this flatterirg reward, 
 and what would remain in t'le narrov/ career of 
 ]ife to prom.pt her exertions ? If the u'ind cculd not 
 launch into the profpect of fu'urity, v/ere the cper- 
 lations of the foul to be limited to the fpace that 
 bounds thcfe of the body, fhe v/ould not v/eaken 
 herfelf by conft uit fatigues, nor v/earv herfelf v/ith 
 continu2l watchingsand anxieties ; fhe would not 
 think even life itfelf worthy cf a IJlruggls ; but there 
 lives in the breall cf every good man a certain prin- 
 ciple which unceafingly prompts and infpires him to 
 the purfuit of a fame beyond the prefent hour ; a 
 fiime not coDariiecifuratt; to cur iiiiuiQrtal€.^€iice5 
 
 / 
 
The Influence of ^cliitide. 
 
 149 
 
 hilt co-extJiifive with the pcfcerity. — Can we, 
 who every day expofe ouHVlves to dangers for cur 
 country, and have never palled one moment of our 
 thne without anxiety and trouble, meanly think that 
 all confcioufnefs fhall be buried with us in the grave ? 
 If the greatefl men have been careful to preferve 
 Iheir buflos and their ftatues, -thofe images not of 
 th-ir minds but of their bodies, ought we not ratlr r 
 to tranfii it to pciierity the refemblance of ourwif- 
 dom and virtue ? For my part, at leaft, i acknow- 
 iex-^ge, that in all my 2cl:ioriS I conceived that i was 
 diffeminatipg and tranrrnittingmyfame to the remo- 
 teit corners and the lad ages of the world. Whether, 
 therefore, my confciouihels of tlii.s fhall ceafe in the 
 grave, or., as fome have thought, fliall furvive as the 
 property of the foul, is cf Utile importance ; for of 
 one thing I am certain, that at this infcant I feel 
 from that refleclion a flattering hope and delightful 
 fenilition." 
 
 This is the true enthufi?.fm with which wc 
 ought to infpire the bofoms of the young nobiHtyc. 
 Were any one happy enough to light up this gen- 
 erous flame in their hearts, and thereby inure them 
 to accnftant application to their lludies, we fhouki 
 fee them (hun the pernicious phafures of their age^ 
 and enter with digni':y on the career of heroes : we 
 might then exptct them to perform the noble ft ac- 
 tions, to add new luftre to fcience, and brighter rays 
 to glory. To exak the minds of roble youths, it 
 is only necellary to infpire them wiih an ^verfion to 
 every thing that is mean ; to excite a difgult for 
 every thmg that enervates the body or weakens ths 
 faculties of the mind ; to remove from their com- 
 pany thofe vilepccntcmptilde flatterers Vv ho are con- 
 tinually defcanting on the pleailires of fenie, and 
 who feek to acquire intereft and fertuiie only by 
 leading them into criires ; decrying every thing 
 that is great, and rendering them iuipicicus of evjry 
 thing that is goo.l. The defire cf ey^eading cur 
 
Sj^c Tlje Infaicnce of ZoUiuii*. 
 
 £ime by noble deeds, and cf increafirg our credit 
 by internal dignity and greatnefs of foul, pollelies 
 advantages which neither high rank nor illuiirious 
 birth can beftov/ \ and which, even on the throne, 
 cannoi bs acquired without the aid cf virtue, and 
 a fixed attention to the faffrages of pofterity. 
 
 The feeds of future fame ar^ in no inftance 
 more plentifully fown, than by the bold fatiriii who 
 aares to condemn the follies cf the muliitude, to 
 paint their prejudices and expcfe their vices in glow- 
 ing and unfadirg colors ; and whcfe v/ritirgs, if 
 they fail to reform the people of that ?ge, may cpe- 
 rj.te upon fucceeci^g generations, extend their in- 
 fluence to their ch}id--en's children, and perhaps 
 render them more wdfe. judicious precepts, great 
 examples, merited glory, produce their efie^is, when 
 tht: man of merit, whom envy has purfued, has de- 
 fcended to his grave. O Lavater I thofe bafe, cor- 
 Tupted fouls who only fhine a moment and are for 
 €ver extioguiflied, will be forgotten, while thy me- 
 rit is honored a!:d beloved. 1 hy foibles, for with- 
 out them thou wTuldfi not in elfc£i: have been fo 
 great, will no longer be remem.bered, and thofe 
 qualities which diifeguiih thee from ethers will 
 iilonc be feen ! I he rich variety of thy language. 
 -?he judgment with wi-.ich thou haft boldly invented 
 and created new expreiTions, the nervous brevity of 
 thyfiyie, and thy ftriidng picture of human man- 
 nei-s and defeats, will, as the author cf " 'fhe Cha- 
 raci:ers of Geiman Fcets and Profe V/riters has- 
 predided, extend the fame of thy Fragments up- 
 on Jb'hyficgnomy" to the remctcft pDrierity, as ore 
 of the fm?al number of German originals which do 
 honor to the genius of the age. No perlbn will then 
 think that Lavater, a genius who has developed 
 F.ew truths, and created for himfeif fo rich a Ian- 
 .guage, beheved in the juggles cf Gefner. 
 
 Such is the glory which attends the works of 
 ^reat and excellent writers- Th« liie after deaths 
 
Tfie Influence of Mtude. t^T 
 
 which Cicero feemed to lupe fcr with fo much en-- 
 I thuliarm,will arrive— the apprcbaticn alio whichLa- 
 I vater prediclc^d, his wcrk on Phyficgnomy will re- 
 ceive, DotwithflaGdiiig all thole injuries that have 
 been heiped upon it both in SwiJJerland and in Ger-^ 
 imny* But if Cicero had been cnly ii Confiil^ and 
 Lavater oiily a Ihavrtv.atv.rgus ^ litilc of either the 
 one or tiie other wouid be reccrded in the archives 
 of Time, which fwaliov/s lap the comrnon cl^ai-a driers' 
 of life, and only preferves thci^ names for eternity 
 which are worthy of everlafling fame. 
 
 The inveclives of the vulgar, the indignatijii 
 of the critics^ ar^r wreaked in vain againlt thefe ce- 
 lebrated names, ajad atrainf!: all thole who may be 
 tempted to imitate them. " Why,*' fays each of 
 them to the laughing 1:1 ckhead, " would you ex« 
 pound the mean.ng of all that I write, fiace my fi- 
 ceil lirokes, gl?.nci::g through your mind, produce 
 only fuca frigid ideas ? Who are you ? By what ti= 
 tie do you claim to be keeper of ihc archives of 
 folly, ai^d arbiter or tlie public tai^e ? — W.iere are 
 the wvrks by v/hich you are diiSinguifhed ? When 
 and v/here have you Deen armoi::nced to the world ? 
 How many fuperior characters do y;u reckon 
 among the number of your friends ? What diibnt 
 country is conicious U^iat fuch a }rau cx--fts I Why 
 do you continually preach your ml admirari? Why 
 do you Itrive to depreciate ever\^ thing that is p:ood, 
 great and fublime, unleis it be from a fenfecfyoux 
 own littleners and poverty^ ? Do ^vxu feek the :?p^ 
 probation of the weak and giddy multitude, be- 
 cauf^ no ore elfe efreerns you 1 If 37'cu defpife a fair 
 and laliing fame, becaufa you can d6 nothisg that 
 is v/orthy of honeft pr aife, the nam.s yeu endeavor 
 to ridicule fhali be remembered wLen 3'-Gur3 v;ill be 
 forgot/' 
 
 Thaumaturgat— one who works miracles ; a title given by the 
 to th!j(€ of their laiac^ whasvcrs fuppclei to ^^crk rniracies.— 
 
1^2 The Influence of Solitude . 
 
 Tlie defire of glory is equally naturrJ and al- 
 lowable in men even of little fenle ?.nd judgment ; 
 biTC'it is net from the opinions of fuch chara<^ers 
 th'jt Vv^riters expect fi-me. It is from reile^ins; and 
 impartial minds ; from the approbation of thofe vir- 
 tuous and private characlers for whom alcne they 
 withdraw from, the multitude, and whole bofoms 
 open Vv illingly to a writer, when they obferve the 
 c^Filidence with wiiich he defires to dif lofe his 
 fer.tim.ents ; it is to obtain the approbation of fuch 
 perlbns alone that writers feek tr.e (hides of Soli- 
 tude. 
 
 After thofe who fcribble their names on walls 
 and on panes of glais, no chviracler appears to ms 
 leis formed to glory, than the man who writes fole- 
 ]y for the place \n which he dwells. He v/ho, with- 
 out being a member of any academy or literary 
 club, fejiis for lame among his fellow-citizens, is a 
 foci v;ho fows his feed upon a reck. They may 
 perhaps pardon icmething that is good, butno'.hing 
 vhat is fevere, great or free. To the prejudiced 
 multituc'e. therefore, he muvL learn to be difcreetly 
 filent ; for openly to avow fentimems th?.t v/culd 
 do honor to i:is charader, or by which he might 
 acquire the praifes of other men, is only to exaf- 
 perate againfc himfelf all tiicfe amongft whom he 
 lives. 
 
 But a vrrit :r of true taile and found judgment 
 is conici- us that in:p:iriial and rational minds, 
 throughout the univerie, adept other principles in 
 appreciating the merit of a good work, than thofe 
 which i'afiuence the judgm.ent of his fellovz-citizens. 
 True critics inquire, " Dees ihe work relate to the 
 interefcs of mankind ? Is its object uieful, audits 
 end moral ? Will it inform the underuanding and 
 amend the heart ? Is it wrirtea with freedom and 
 impartiality? Does it bear the marks of honefty 
 and lincerity ? Docs it attempt to ridicule any thing 
 that is good or gr^at ? D.:es z munly fcyle of think- 
 
The Infuence of Solitude, .153 
 
 iiig predominate ? Does rerXon, wit, humor and 
 ,, pieaiUiitry pl-evail in it? Does it contain new and 
 uieful truths ? If it infpires noble fentiments and 
 generous refoiutions, cur judgment is fixed: the 
 work is gooJ, and the author a niafter of the fd- 
 e::ce." 
 
 In the or.Unary commerce of the world, in that 
 intercourfe of fiatter^' and falfehood where every 
 one deceives and is deceived ; where all appear un- 
 der a borrowed form, profefs friendfh"ps Wwichthey 
 do not feel, and beftow praifes only that they may 
 receive ihem back in return ; men bov/ the lowefc 
 to him whom they defpife the mofu, and difiinguifh 
 evi.ry filly woman whom they meet by the title of 
 " Tour Grace But hs who lives retired from the 
 circle of illufion expecls no compliments from o't- 
 ers, norbeftows thecn but vvhere they are defcrved. 
 A thoufand of the infidious grimaces with which 
 we are honored in public life, are nothing to the 
 fv/eet converle of private friend (hip, which infpires 
 us with a noble boldnefs, renders us infenfible to 
 all the cpprefiions of the world, points out the road 
 to true honor, and accompanies us cn cur way to 
 attain it. 
 
 Of what value are all the babblings and vain 
 boaltings of fcciety to that dcmeSic felicity which 
 we experience in th.e company and coLverrarion of 
 an amiable woman, whofe charms awaken ail the 
 dormant faculties of the foul, and infpire the mind 
 with finer energies than all our own exertions could 
 attain ; v/ho in the execution of our enterprizes 
 prompts us by her :£i(tance, and encourages us by 
 her approbation, to furmcunt every difficulty ; who 
 impreflTS us with the great nefs ef her ideas'and the 
 fubiimity of her fentiments ; who weighs and exa^ 
 I mines with judicious penetration cur dioughts, cur 
 actions, cur whole charader ; who obfeiTcs all ouir 
 
 A title given ia Germany t9 perfons a* iuali' 
 
3 /4 The Licence of Solitude. 
 
 foibl ?3 warn<: u? w'th fincerity of t'<eir ccnfequen- 
 c^^^- r.^.^ refcrnis with geti'len -fs nnd afFecPtion; 
 V. ; L ,: ■ - tier r - iiin-iunication c f her thcnights 
 
 . u'.erva irns, ccnvcvs new inftruclion to our 
 minds, and by p^iiring all tha warm and generous 
 feelings, of her hrart into our bofoiTis, iuiira-^tes 
 inceflantly to the .xercife rf every virtue, a-idcom- 
 pler. s the pohr: :d perfection of our character by 
 the f:ft ^iiurenn?a!3 of Live and the delightful con- 
 ^cord of i er leniimrnts-. 
 
 In fuch an intercourfe, all that is virtuous and 
 noble in hum in n-tur^ is j^reierved within the 
 breaiT, and evrry evil prop^nnty dies away* I'he 
 multitude fee us ?-S we cughr to be in public, and 
 not as v/e are in Sci'tude ; for in the v/orld we al- 
 ■ways turn the imo..th iurface cutwarJs, and care- 
 ■faliy concci:! all the fharp angles of our characlers ; 
 by which means we contrive to paf? without doing 
 hurt to any perfcn, and men find pleafure in our 
 comp-.^ny.'^ 
 
 But we are v'ewed with different eyes by our 
 felbw-citizens and by ccteniporary writers. By 
 the latter, cur deftfts as well as our good qualities 
 are eaiily difcernible in cur writings, which, if we 
 exprefs one fenriment with fmcerity, often become 
 the itrcngeil evi .-i^.erxes againii.us. This idea, how- 
 ever, is Gcnfcla^ory to the feelings of our dear coun- 
 irym-n, to v/hofs ears perhaps the praifes v/e re- 
 ceive may reach, ard who are obhged to admit the 
 mortifying ide:^ that there are people in the v/orll 
 who h dd us in f:me eiffeem. The human charac- 
 ter, it is true, frequently exhibits a fmgular mnxture 
 of virtue and vice, of itrength and weaknefs ; and 
 v/hy fhould we conceal it ? Our foibles follow all 
 that is terreitrial in our nature to the tomb, and 
 
 * " Le I'/Ijrerul c^nftitutes the higheft degree of merit j and to 
 I've in peace., '.se ought ty take great care that the other fide of oiir 
 characters fn-juid be j-e/c ved," laid a great man to me j one of tilC 
 uea;eft a»ivi inoii reii:cctaols aaior^^ my friends in Germany, 
 
^he Influence cf Solnude* 15^ 
 
 lie burie:] with thr h Ay by w: ich they were pro- 
 duced. The nobler part, if we hive p.-rf -^rmed 
 any Work worthy of^exinenc?, furvives ; and our 
 wriiiogs are the beft v/ealth we biive behind us 
 whe!i vre die. 
 
 But, exclufive of this enthuO^liTi, SoUtude af. 
 fords a pie Jure to an anther of whic" no one can 
 deprive 1 irn, and whic/; far exceeds all the honorr* 
 of tiie w .rid. Ke not oaly an' icipates ihe effect 
 his work will produce, but wirJe it advances to- 
 wards completion, feel^, the drlicicus erjoymeot of 
 thofe hours of f^renity and compofure vvhich his 
 labors pn cure. 
 
 \Vhat plr^afure flows through the irind cf an 
 eflaldifhed writer, from the uninterrupted atten'ion 
 £nd the glowing e.nhufr'.fm whiv-^h accornpa:ues it ! 
 8orrov/s fly f rom this elegant occupation, and mis- 
 fortunes are forgot. On ! I would not exc'^ange 
 one fi-^gle hour of fuch,p'^rfed; trimquilhty for all 
 thcfe flattering iUufions of eternal fame with which 
 the mini of Tiilly was f:> inciflimtly into:ccated. 
 
 S ditude, in the midft of continuil fuff rin:-*?, 
 is an enjoyment v/h'ch net O-Iy ration.dly c3nne6^o 
 the foul with the prr.fent moment, but renders it 
 fu-ceptible of every good impreffion, and raifes it to 
 felicity. The fccret pieafure cf having produced at 
 leail ibmething, is u.:iknown to men of vigororis 
 conllitutiocs ; for they coiiride in the itrength of 
 their powers. But to a writer afliicfed by illh^al h, 
 a diluculty furmounted, an h?ppy moment feized, a 
 pr:pofiticn elucidated, a f=ntence neatly and ele- 
 gandy turned, an harmonious period, or an happy 
 expr^flion, are ftlutary a'ld healmg bahr.s, counter- 
 p',.ifo!i3 to molanchcly, the mofl: precious adva?ua- 
 ges of SoHiude, and infi litely f-iperior to thcfe 
 dreams, thofe prefentiments of houor and gl:^ry after 
 dea.h. Oh! v/ho would not willinglv rencurce, 
 fcr one of thefe enjoyments, that eiJthAin dbi s gainst' 
 whicii reafoii oppc^f^s fc uiauy pov/erfui cbje^cioB'si 
 
1^6 The liijlucnce of Solitude- 
 
 and which to me does not appear quite fatlsfaclon-, 
 except when we do not altogether enjoy our ufual 
 prefence of mind. 
 
 To enjoy himfelf without being dependent on 
 the aid of others, to devote to employments not 
 perhaps altogether ufelefs thcfe hours which fbrrow 
 and chagrin would ctherwife ueal from the fum of 
 life, is the great advantage of an author ; and with 
 this advantage alone I am perfe£dy content. And 
 who is there that does cot derive pleafure from So- 
 litude when he perceives the progrefs he is capable 
 cf making during a few Iiours, while the multitude 
 roll in their cajrlages through the ftreet, and make 
 every wall of the hcufe trem.ble to its foundation ? 
 
 The fmgularities cf fome writers are oftentimes 
 the effecls, and frequently the real advantages, of 
 SQruudt\ Long abfent from all commerce with 
 tlie v/orld, their difpofitions become lefs inflexible 
 and compliant. Even he, however, who has pre- 
 ferved the manners of fcciety, is not fond of being 
 obliged to fhew himfelr in company differently frcm 
 what he is ; and he frizes the pen from fpcrt, if it 
 b2 only to afford a fmgle confolation to his feel- 
 lags. 
 
 But in this, perhaps, the world may fay, that 
 a v/riter zRs imprcp -riy ; and that this eafy man- 
 ner of ent.ertainiv:g the reader neither contributes 
 to his ph-afure ncr his information. This Ryle cf 
 writing, however, has its merit ; hterature acquires 
 bv it a greater degree of freedom ; it teaches the 
 inind to rife above a creep'ng, fervile train of 
 thought, and is more appropriated to the neceiTities 
 of the t me. If a nation is not yet poiTeiled of all 
 that its greatefh men cculd with, (he may attain it, 
 if they are capable cf extirpa^irg ancient prejudice?, 
 if freedom of fentiment be e::cor raged, and if, in 
 each province, fome phibfjphical writr-rs fhculd be 
 found who will bd Uy exprefs their op'nions. To 
 entertain readers i?. in my cpiniop, o:cIy to deliver 
 
The Influcnc2 cf Solitude. 157 
 
 freely la writing that which in the general intercoiir- 
 fes of f. ciety it is impcflibW to fiiy either with fafe- 
 ty or pohtener!^. This is what I call Liberty ; an 
 inefl::mable tre ifur - ! which, u-ider a wife and mo- 
 derate ^(hninifiration, every oae enjoys v/ho lives 
 in Solitude. 
 
 In a treatife upon Style, printed at IVeyjmir^ a 
 gentleman appears very ftrongly to oppofe this new 
 marner of writing. In honor of the Solitude and 
 Liberty by which it was prot\iced, I ihould h.ive 
 many things to fay to him., although I perfectly co- 
 incide with him upon many points.^ He wiihes one 
 general rule to be adopted with refprcl to ftyle, and 
 1 contend for that freedom in literary compolitions 
 which will allow of ftyla according to every man's 
 fimcy and humor. He thirks that a writer fhould 
 always have a model before him ; I think that eve- 
 ry writer is his own model. He wifhes writers to 
 follow the flyle of others ; I thir.k that writers 
 fiiould, as much as it is p jffible, let every thing be 
 their own ; not th^ Ityle alone, but every other 
 property belonging to compolition. He is unwil- 
 ling that the writer fnould he difcoveral le in the 
 work ; though it appears to me, that he may be 
 permit red publicly to dccompcfe the ftate of his mind, 
 and to make oblervatiGns on his own charadter, for 
 the benefit of otlier nien, rather than to leave his 
 body by will to a profeilcr of anatv;my. Lie re- 
 commends authjTS to proceed by regular deps ; I 
 hale to be taught by others how I ought to walk. 
 He fays, that it is the pref nt faihi ^n with authors 
 to difclofe what were the feehr.gs of their fouls 
 when ihev wrote ; I cannot • Itogcther conceal how 
 liind m.yfelf when I converfe wit: my readers. He 
 appears act inchned t'^at they ihould conceive them- 
 felv;-^s elone when they are writing , while very fre- 
 quently I write, Lilly that .1 may have the cpporiu- 
 nity cf exprcffing on word alone. 
 
 Ihis treutife upon the fubjeft of fiyle. hov/ev^ 
 (XiV) 
 
1 33 Influence of Bohiude, 
 
 er, contains in g-eneral a true and judicicAis criti- 
 cilm ; and elpf daily towards the conclufion, which 
 is filled with ol^fervati^n?. equ?.lly accurate' and prc- 
 fuund. This was th^ only paflage through the 
 work of w'- ich I diiappr jved ; for ah hough the 
 ramblings, extravi^g .nces, and digreflions of our 
 heanx ef^ rits difpleale me as much as they do this 
 geriti?iiran, i think, neverthekfs, that this' free and 
 eafy fl yle of writing/ which can only be acquired 
 in Solicude, h?,s already produced a greater degree 
 of liber y than was heretcfore enjoyed ; and tnat 
 fhis hberty, erapl'^yed witr> t:ft2 and difcretion, 
 will promote the circulation of n greater number of 
 ufcful truths than there fLiU exifls of dangerous pre- 
 judices. 
 
 The light of philofophy has been prevented 
 from penetrating into many reccftes, folcly Kcaufe 
 the manners cf focieties, the voice of the people, 
 and the opinion of the public, follow one unifc rm 
 ftep. Every man liftens and locks up to the ft nti- 
 ments of his neighb r, and no one dares to dtvrte 
 from the crdi:;ary mode of judgment. Men of the 
 world, who beft ^know the art of appropriating to 
 themfelv^s thn neweft and moit refined ide'S cf 
 others, are «. bliged to conceal them, and to follow, 
 the general manners of the 3g:e. But w^en authors 
 begin, from tl^.e r-^trep.ts '-f Sortude, to appear be- 
 fore the pubhc without difinay ; \\hen they f^udy 
 thf^ charad:ers i f every defc.' iprion of people, with 
 their manners of a£^ing^, and *h ir mrdes of thi: k- 
 ing ; when they cnce d re, wi h boldnefs and con- 
 fidence, to def ribe thiog=^> by their true names, 
 and difclofeby thf-ir wri i-gs, all thofe truths Which 
 €very free and iilxral mind ought t'^> ht permitted 
 to difclcfe ; their in'- mcti' n will circulate gra.''u?lly 
 among ^he pecpi the philofophy of human life wiii 
 fpread i^fieif al nxid, every man w'll dare to think 
 ■for himfelf, and difiain t • be giiided by th^ public 
 opinion* To eilict thi^ riy^Iuuonj however, i: is 
 
The Influence cf Solitudi.- i-^r 
 
 n^ceflary that our writers fhould be acqmiiited 
 with a dillereut region than merely that of the Uni- 
 ▼erfity, or even of their own provincial town : 
 their minds muft be formed by an interc^urfr with 
 men cf every flue and every nation : ti.ey mu^t 
 neither the grent, iicr difpif: the inferi-jr claff- 
 es of m.^r.kind ; and they muft learn to retire oc- 
 cafiODaily from tiiis interccurfe with tlie world to 
 long ar.d uninierrupted S.4i'ude ; to renounce the 
 fedu£tio:is of phafure, to free theTifelves fr^m the' 
 ties of Society, and above all to become deaf to the 
 pfaife or ceniure of thofe among whom they UvCj 
 wien employed as inducements to the propagation 
 of fdlfchDod or the fupprefTioa of truth. 
 
 The Germans felt an Helvetic fe verity in th^ 
 taileand liyh of t'^ofe works which I formerly 
 wrote, and this feverity was without doubt the ccn- 
 fequence of my folitary life. I'he Spe^latcr of 
 Thuringla for four years fuccefiively defendt?d ma 
 witli equal vivacity and (kill againil the very heavy 
 reproaches, that I was a peevifh, hypDcritical phil* 
 olopher, whj was never phafed with nny produc- 
 tion, and always viewed ihe v/oni fij!e of things; 
 that nothing was facred from the keennefs of my 
 criticifm, and the feverity of my fat ire ; but that 
 the nation was too modeil, too decent, too delicate, 
 and too virtuous to be entertained by fuch como?- 
 firicns ; in fliort, that Engliih Writers were infuf- 
 ferable to German delicacy, and of confequsnce it 
 was impcffible to endure the Swifs. 
 
 Bui it appears to me, that tl:ey confound the 
 manners cf the wcrid with the ftyle of books, 
 Harrhnefs is without doubt excluded from fociery 
 whilft, on the other hand, the naked truths whth 
 well-written works or letters from time to tim^e dif- 
 clofe, frequently flrike the mind, and produce an 
 eftcft. i 'dm myfelf extremely chafte,'* faid a p3- 
 et,. " but. I ackncwhdge that my works are not," 
 A wri:er, therefore, may be civil and porite in his 
 
T/je Influence of ^ollttide. 
 
 perCmal Intercoiirfe with mankind, and flill proper- 
 ly fevere in hi? works. Why fh uld authors write 
 as hey fp^ak, if they n':>ver fpeak as they think ? Is 
 it not ennigh that wh^=n they mix in Society-^ 
 they ende IV r to pleafe every one ; that when they 
 have once cnterr-d into Society, they fubmit with- 
 out exception to whatever tHe laws of pohtenefs 
 ex h \ give up whatever is infifled on, maintain no 
 opinions unnecelTarily, aUvays yield the privilege 
 of f^Jki to otl e:Sj and do every thing as if tl'.ey 
 were there only to hear and learn r Are there not, 
 however, many beaux efpritj who are irfufterable in 
 company, from a v:\in conceit that their v^rritings 
 are tha lafl: bed mod.=:ls of elegance and urbanity I 
 Would not fuch a ch'.ira^ler ad more wifely, to 
 ccrrecf, in his conmierce with the world, the errors 
 that may have efcviped from his pen, than to re- 
 itrain his pen and never check his tongue ? He, 
 alas ! who in the circbs of Society is kind in his be- 
 havior and ccmplaifant in his manners rnayfurely 
 be permitted once at k?ft to hazard in his writings 
 a bold or even an harfli exprelTion, and to inftrt 
 here and there a melancholy truth, when fo many 
 ethers are occupied in circulating fprightly falfe^ 
 lioods. 
 
 Energy of thought is banifhed from the lan- 
 guage of converfati. n. But if the freedom v/ith 
 which an author exprefles himf. lf in his writings be 
 miuiierable in the intercourfe v;lth the v/orld, tl:e 
 icfi: and meretricious language of Society would be 
 xidiculous in hterary ccmpofuion. An author 
 muft fpeak in the language of truth ; in Society a 
 iiia.i is in the conHant habit of feeling it only, for 
 he mufl: impofe a neccHary filence upon his lips, 
 'i'he manners of men are' formed by intercourle 
 with the world, and their chara^l^rs by retiring 
 into Sohtude. Here they will f:jon difccver whe- 
 4her they have only learned complaifaucej or have 
 
The Injluence of Sclitucfe, 1 6i 
 
 acquired freedcmof thought, firmnefs of expreflion, 
 dignity of fentiment, and grandeur of flyle. 
 
 Soliiu-^e raifes the mind to an high degree of 
 elevation and power. The mm who has not courage 
 enough to place hiinfelf above the preju^'ices and 
 fafhions of the world ; who dreads the reproach cf 
 fngularicy ; who forms and conducts himfelf upon 
 t\e example ( f others ; will certainly never acquire 
 a fufficient regree of refolution to live a life of vo- 
 luntary Sjlitu.'e. It has been well obferved that 
 Solitude is as indifpenfably neceflary to give a juft, 
 folid, firm and forcible tone to our thoughts, as jl 
 knowledge of the world is to give them richnefs and 
 brilliancy, and to teacn us to make a wife and hap- 
 py application of them. 
 
 The mind when employe .1 in the purfuit of 
 noble, inter ^fti^g objects, is cleanfed from thofe 
 impurities with which the habits of indolence ftain 
 the vacant breaft. The foul, er joying freedom and 
 tranquillity, feels all its energies with luperior force, 
 and difpiays an extent of power which \v?.s before 
 unknown. The will fharpcus i'.felf in SoHtude; 
 for as the facultirs are capable of greater exertions 
 in the bifure it affords, as we enjoy greater liberty 
 and tranquillity, as tur ideas become more clear, 
 iummous and extended, as we fee wi h greater cer- 
 tainty into tne c ^nf^qucnces cf things, the mind ex- 
 a£l:^ much more from itfeif in Solitude than in the 
 worl,!. The tr-inqu'.llity of Soli t.ude, however, 
 muft not degenerate into idle eafe, into a flate of 
 mental numbnefs or ftupefacllon. It is not fuffi-. 
 cient for this purpofe to be continually gazing out 
 of a window with a thoughtlefs mind^ or gravely 
 walking up and down ore's iludy in a rsgged robed^ 
 chambre and worn-out ilippers. The exterior of 
 tranquillity gives no elevation to the foul, infpires 
 no r.ftivity, except when we are well prrfuaded thai 
 Solitu :e is neceflary, cr feel it to be a dcfire of the 
 fjul. It is thej^i only that it becomes a precious lit- 
 (XIV2) 
 
16"^ The JnJlue^Kc of Mliuie, 
 
 erty, animating, the fame inftant, bcth the rea- 
 fon and the imaginatioD. 
 
 One of my illnftrious friends has frequently 
 p.fUiFed ine, that he never felt fo ftror.g an mclina- 
 tion to write as during a reviev/, v/hen fcrty thou- 
 fand perfons left their houfes, and travelled on foot, 
 in carriages, and on horieback, to obferve the ma- 
 noeuvres of a li igle oattalion. This friend has pub- 
 iifhed many treatifes upon the f dences, bijt he rev- 
 er \vr te a trifle full of v/it and gaiety unt 1 the day 
 of the review. In enrly youth, I never felt fo ftrong 
 SI difpofition to empl y my m.ind on ferious fubje6ls 
 as on 6und;iy mornings, when, far retired in the 
 country, 1 heard the fh;^rp and tinkli-jg found of 
 the vill^ige btHs, v/hile all my fellow-citizens, occu- 
 pied in their devotions, frizzed and powdered their 
 heads to go to church. 
 
 Cop'inual interrup'ion deftroys all the good 
 eltedts of Sohfude. Difturbance prevents the mind 
 from collectii^:g i s idea?. This is the reafon why 
 an - ilahlilhment frequtnrly takes away m^ore ad- 
 'Van*:agcs than it brings. In the world, every psrfon 
 is oblig-^d to attend to the duties of his particular 
 fiation, and muft perform what they exacl frora 
 liim ; but in Solitude a man may be jufl: what he 
 'wifiies and what he is. If, therefore, a judicious 
 phiiofopner or a man of genius do not exa(^Iy fcl- 
 iow the received ufages of his ftation, they fay of 
 Jiim, " This is a fool ; he only knows how to write 
 books ; " or perhaps, " His writings are good, but 
 as for hlrnfelf, he is an afs.'' 
 
 The mind of a folitary man attacks prejudice 
 and error v/ith as much vigor and courage as an 
 athletic champion meets his adverfary. Repeated 
 examinations bring the obje^ls of our attention 
 mere near ; we behold their properties with great- 
 er certainty, and feel more ftrongly that which we 
 have feen. If the foul enter entirely into itfeif, it 
 then becomes more eafy to work with efficacy oa 
 
The InJIucnce tf Solitude. t^'t^ 
 
 external objects. A man of a refle61ing and Intre- 
 pi ' inind, who retire? withh his own Ix/lbm, feizcs 
 tru h wherever he dilcovers her, and r.^g-'Tds with 
 the tranquil fmileof pity thofewho tnink themfelves 
 authorifed to fpeak of her with contemp^ ; he hears, 
 without bein;^ cifconcerted, the inve-flives which 
 envy and prejudice throw cut againft him ; f:.r he 
 p.Tceives a weak raultituJe making hue and cry 
 the moment he opens his hand and unbofes one of 
 the truths w'- ich it contains. 
 
 Solitude alf-^rd'^ u? aa opportunity to diminifh 
 the number of our pailions: for out of a multipli- 
 city of trifling inclinat ons fne forms one great de- 
 fire. It is certainly pcilible thit S'^Uiuda may pro- 
 duce dangerous effecls upon the pailions, but, Pro- 
 viien-'e be thanked 1 it may alfo produce the molt 
 falutary elFetls. if it be capable cf dilordering the 
 mind, it is alfo capable of elfcclirg the cure. It 
 draws out and fepr.rates all the v..rious prcpenfities 
 of the human heart : but it colhcts and re-unites 
 them ?11 into one. Yes, in SoUtuie we feel and 
 learn not only the nature but the exrent and infl-u- 
 ence of all the pailions, w'hich rife up againfl us like 
 angry waves, and endeavor to overwhelm us in the 
 a by fs, until Pnilof-^phy fi'es to our aid and divides 
 their force. If we do not yield an tafy vi(^ jry, by 
 negle£ling all oppofition to their attacks. Virtue ana 
 Self-denial bring gigantic powers to our alFiftance 
 that will " melt the rocks and bend the knotted 
 oak.'* In fnurt, every thing^ is pcffible to Virtus 
 and Refolution, tiie inftrat we learn that one pal- 
 lion is only to be conquered by another. 
 
 The mind feels itielf proudly dignified by that 
 greatnefs of foul which v/e acquire by a commerce 
 y/ith ourfclves, and, difdaini^g every ignoble ob- 
 j ift, v/ithdi-aws itfelf on every fide from corrupt 
 Soc:ety. A virtuous mnnd obferves the fons of 
 wcrldiy plcafure precipitate themfelves into fcenes 
 cf riot aud debauchery v/iihcut being fiduced, la 
 
1 64 
 
 7hs hjliience of Solitude, 
 
 vain is it cir^ub.ted on every fide, that debauchery- 
 is the earlie" pr penfity cf men, efpeci-ally of a 
 ycung ma 1 who vvifhes to know life ; in vain is it 
 reprefented as necelfary to form connexions with 
 giris of the ^endereft youth, as it is to eat and fleep : 
 no, the noble mind feels and fees that debauchery 
 readers youth unmanly, infenfible to the charms of 
 virtue, and callous ro the principles of honelly ; 
 that it dellroys all refoluti n, infpires timidity and 
 pufillanimity in the hour of danger, and prevents 
 them from undtrtaking any great and glorious en- 
 lerprize ; that by the indulgence of Hbertinifm^ ths 
 ^ener. us warmth a: d line enthufiafm of the foul, 
 its noble fondnefs for ihe fublime and beautiful — 
 all its powers, are loft. He therefore, who retains 
 a wlfh to appear great and honorable in the world, 
 rauft renounce for ever the habits of indolence and 
 luxury. The n^.oment he ceafes to injure his facul- 
 ties by debauchery, and difcontinues his :ittempts 
 to renovate them by an excefs of wine and luxuri^ 
 ous living, he will no lon^^er feel it neceffary fre- 
 queady to take the air, Eor to confume the whele 
 day on horfe-back. 
 
 All men without exception have fomething 
 continunlly ro k-arn. Whatever may be the diflin- 
 guiQie: raiik which they h :ld in Society, they can 
 n ver be truly great but by their perfonal merit. 
 I'he m )re the faculties cf the mind are exercifed in 
 the tranquillity of retirem.ent, the more confpicuous 
 they appear \ and ihculd the pleafures cf debauch- 
 ery be the ruling p:;fnon, O young man t leara 
 that nothing will fo eafiiy fubdue it as an increaf- 
 ing emulation in great and virtuous addons, an ha- 
 tred of idlenefs and frivolity, the iiuiy of the fci- 
 ences, a frequent communion with thy own heart, 
 and that high and dignified fp'rit which viev/s with 
 difd.'in every thing tl.at is vile and contemptible. 
 
 This generous pride difcovers itfelf with digni- 
 ty and greatneii? ia the retreats of Soiitude, where 
 
Tk hjlucnce of Soiitucfe. %6'; 
 
 the p'^ffion for every fublime o'-jecl^ cprrates with 
 greater fn^dom r ran in any other Ipuation. The 
 fame palfnn whic carried Alexander into Jftd^ 
 confi ed Diogenes to his tub, Il rarjitus qnitted 
 the I'-^rone to devote himicif to tl\e fearch of truth. 
 He whawifhes to render his iludies iifeful to man- 
 kind, muft firfl: have made his obfervations in the 
 worl^ -v^ith ut dwelling in it too long or quitting 
 it with regret* The w rid enervates the^ mind 
 and deftroys its vigor. Carfar in the courfe of a 
 fcw days tore himf If from Cier;patraj snd became 
 the m after of the empire ; but Antony took her as 
 his rvflreft, was for ever in h^r arms, and by his 
 efFemin-Ky kfl both his life and the world. ^ 
 
 SoKtmie, \i is true^ infpires the fcul with high 
 Jiiid exalted notions, which are incompatible wi'tM 
 the tr -nf i&"^rs of commicn life. Jbut a lively^ ar'» 
 dei:t palTio "I for whatever is great, points out to the 
 fcii^ary m.an the p fTible mea^s of fuppcrticg him- 
 felf on heights which would turn the heac's of 
 worldly-minded mar. The circumflances which 
 accompany Solitude extend the faculties of the 
 mind, influence the feelings of the heart, and place 
 the man fo much above the ievd of humauity, that 
 he feels hiinfelf imm.ortal. To cbferve upon the 
 life of a m;m of the world, we fhould fay, that each 
 day ought to be the laft of his exigence. The plea- 
 fures of Solitude make ample compenfation for eve- 
 ry privation., while the worl -ily-minded man thinks 
 that all liappinets is at an end if he hiippens to mils 
 a favorite ciiverfion, to be depriv:^d of at^endirg his. 
 club, oris difappointed in feeing the cele^-rated con- 
 jurer, the new boxer, or the v/ild beafts juft arrived 
 from a flrange land, which the hand-bills cf the day 
 have announced. 
 
 I never recoiled: without feeling the warnieil: 
 emotions that paff^ge where Plutarch fiys, " Hive 
 entirely upon hiiiory, and while I contemplate the 
 pictures it prefents tg my viev/, my mind erjoys a 
 
1^6 Th^ Influence of Solitude. 
 
 rich repair fr-m tl:e reprefentat-ion of great and vir- 
 tuous characters, if the u6lions men, whi-^h I 
 muft necell;irily look into, produce f me infl^inces 
 of vice, corruption and difhoneftv, } endeav'^r^ ne- 
 vertneiefs, remove the imprc£ion, or to defeat 
 its eitcct. My mind withdraws itfelf from (he 
 fce'^e, and, free f rom ' Vcry ignoble palTion, I at- 
 tach inyfelf to thcfe high, examples of vir ue which 
 are fo agreeable and ia:iGfV.£tory, and which accord 
 io compkiely wit-, the genuine fedings of cur na^ 
 tore." 
 
 The foul, attr.ched by Solitude to thefe ftib- 
 lime images, forgets every cbjcdl th it would attrad 
 it towards the e::rt:i, mounts as it pr rceeds, and 
 cafts the eye of difdain on tncfe links which would 
 chain it to the w "rid, and tend to ititcrcept or weafo- 
 en its flight . At this height the faculties and incli- 
 nations devel' :pe themfelves. Every raim is per- 
 haps cap:i' ie of cicin,^ much more than he perfcrms; 
 and for this reafon it is wife and glorious to attempt 
 every achievement which does not appe^.r p: yficrl- 
 iy im.p flible. How many dormant ideas may be 
 awakened ! and then, what a variety of early im- 
 preffions which were feemingly forgot, revive, and 
 preffut themielves to our pens ! We may always 
 accomplifh much m.ore than we conceive, provided 
 pafTion facs the fire which imagination has ligiited ; 
 for Hfe only appears infuppDrtable, when it is no 
 longer animated by the foft afiecLions of the heart. 
 
 A fl:ate of exiftence without paili^n* is, in So- 
 litude as well as in every other fituation of life, the 
 death cf ti.e ibul. Difeaie and long-fuffering, after 
 I ceafed to breathe my native air, occafmnally re- 
 duced me,. during many years, to this horrible'con- 
 
 * ** The force of the paflions," fays a great philofopher, **caa 
 alone counterbalance in the human mind the ffFcfts of indolence and 
 ina(flivity, fteal us from that repofe and ftupidity towards which we 
 inceflantly gravitate, and at length endow the mind with that ccBti- 
 nuity of attention to which fcpwiorlty 0/ taleat is attached." 
 
'Sre Influtnce of Sdiiude» i6f 
 
 dlilon. While t.'rfe am ^cg'": w'-^^m I I'ved, and 
 w;^o were igaorant cf my re.l firuatio;', thcczht 
 that I was gry, and -xpccft d every fnoment that 
 I fli.vuld feizc th.^ la-^ce ?.nd (h- -Id, l pafled quietly 
 on my way, and ref» ned myfelf wi<h care and cor- 
 dhlity to the ben fice^:t cripl ^ymeats of my pro- 
 felliDD. W/.ile the rage agaiaft me was general, I 
 rcm.dnjrd perft<5lly mlcn^l'.^le, ar.d preferved an in- 
 violable llience. I he hngUv^rs of ficknefs, the tor- 
 tures rf a wounded heart, t^ e rpprciTion of d:^mef- 
 tlc misfortunes,^ had v^nqu'fhed my ini.id, and ren- 
 dered it infcnllole to every ctner concern. My 
 brr.ai concinned during feveral years as obdurate as 
 marble : i paiTe : mar.y hours day after day without 
 a tho' ght : i freqaently uttered the direcl contrary 
 to what 1 mta :r : I c.uid fcarcely take any nou- 
 rifnment : I c^uld derive no fupp^rt from that 
 which nrengthe :s others : I expected every ilcp I 
 tck, to fall to ^he grounJi ; and I fuffered all the 
 puaifhmtnts of Hell, whenever i fat down with an 
 intennon to write. Tre w^rld contained noth'nja; 
 that could interefl m.e, except only the f-.cret objccl 
 of my chagrin, which 1 kept cljlliy locked withia 
 my bleeding hrart. 
 
 Tlie padi.ns hr.ve DO r:<-ftenoe until the mo- 
 ment the corpore-. 1 craans beco:iie c?.pable cf in- 
 dulgi g th fe .^rpclitl^n? which are previoufly plant- 
 ed in t e breift. Ihe foul, therefor-, which u^'ht 
 to be k^pt \ \ a ftate cf c nf.a^t exen ife, rding on- 
 ly by mie?ns of tb-fe o'gaas, it is necefT^rv that 
 tiieir operations fhculd net be o'^^ftrucled j fcr the 
 foul, b: th in the tranquillity cf it)- htude and \\\ the 
 hurry « f the world, can never lecrmiC active or en- 
 terprizi.^g, w ile it is imped v^d by t::- f- fabal '-rn 
 agents. Why is it n. t idway? ii: c-ur p wer live 
 in Solitude, nd ax^rdi^g to cnrincl; a'i^ ^, lince 
 it is certain tirat ^.oiitude affords h;pp'nef- t the 
 heart in every period of cur hv -s, ai d learns the 
 mind to tae ferdle fources of every grt at Cv^nceptioi; ? 
 
1 68 Tf^e Iriflimu 6f Solitud4. 
 
 How p? iTi -nately fond cf S litude would every no- 
 ble-nrt^ded vouih ^-ecome, if he wer^ capable cF 
 perceivi--g the vanfty f grand i'.-as., fu' lime fen- 
 liments, and pr.-f^uud kn wle 'ge^ wh'ch he might 
 there acquire in the earlie!^ pe l )ds of his infancy ! 
 A wif^ rid ag? finds its hnppiell day<^. in the r nreats 
 cf Solitude. Th!^ mm ' there thinks with greater 
 dignity than in the world. In the tranquillity cf re- 
 tire >'eni, we e hew every thing; nught to be roQ- 
 ducled ; while in f xiety, we only fee how things 
 lire carried ( n. Uninterrupted reikftioa and pro- 
 fcur.d th ugkt inCp're tl^e rreated works which the 
 hum-^n mind is capable of producing; while in fo- 
 ciety the intell'^dual Ipirit evAporares by its contin- 
 ual aittndcn to trifling ol je^ls. Solitude, on the 
 contrary, mufV pofTefs a v>^ry powerful charm, fmce 
 fo many men forget in retirement all the cares of 
 life, and leari. to d fb'fe every thirg that belongs to 
 earih ; they fufle!- their lands to lie fallow, abaSdon 
 their crops to weeds, or leave them a prey to the 
 beafrs of the field. 
 
 Whsn the iriind is nll-^d with an enthufrafm fcr 
 great achiev=me':ts, it Lfrs, i-; general, all confider- 
 ati -n f^r tr?fii' g ob^ecis. This is the reafon why, 
 in cond ailing litl-; c:ncerns, common feijf^* is 
 much more uf^ful than genius. The ordinary cc- 
 cupai ions of life de'lroy the enf ufr.Tm of genius, 
 which nothing will To efte^lually re'iore as Solitude, 
 leifnre : nd liberty, d hs ph:l /fop ic cbfrrver and 
 profound wr.'er, t/.erefTe, h. ve no other reiburce, 
 wh n they nre furr-uuded and encumbereJ by a 
 midtipliritv of affa'-rs. Mifunderitood and ridi'cu- 
 kd, their fjuls firkea und'^r ihe general prefliare, 
 and become almi xl exiincl ; fcr what ii' ducement 
 
 * *' A man of Commoj: i-.^WiC," \ Hclvttius, " Is a man In 
 vhofe cha'adter indoie-ice prs.i )-,r.';?iave . Me is not endowed with 
 that adivity of fnul which, in hif^h ftatiojis, leads great minds to dif- 
 cover nrvv Iprings by wliich they rr.-i) let the worid in mction, or to 
 fow thole feeds from the ^lovvtii oi which ihcy are enabled to produce 
 future events,'* 
 
The Infucnce of Solihidg* x6^ 
 
 can there be to write a greit and dift-ngu'fhed 
 work, when the author is previoufiy convinced that 
 ev/ry one will endeavor to turn it into ridicule th^ 
 moment ihey learn from whofe pen it was produ- 
 ced ? The deilre of fame dies, v/liere merit is no 
 longer rewarded by praife. But remove fuch a 
 u riter or philofopher from the multitude ; give them 
 liberty, leifure, pens, ink and paper, and they are 
 revenged ; for they will then produce writings which 
 w^hcle nations will be e?.ger to read. A great va- 
 riety of raen who pDlle-S extraordinary talents, re- 
 main undiftinguillied, only bccaufe their rninds lin- 
 guilh under em.ployments which do not require the- 
 aid of thought, and which fcr that reafon, are m.uch 
 better fuited to the ignorant vulgar, than the refiaed 
 philofopher. 
 
 Solitude reft ores ev.^ry thing to its proper place^ 
 There the mind rejoices in beirig' able to think, in 
 being enabled to derive ple.ifures from purfults 
 which ether men diHilce, and, of courfe, ia being 
 able to appropriate fo n^.uch ti.ue to i:felf. The ha- 
 tred whicii is generally entertained againli folitary 
 men, frequ;n?iy proves a fource of enviable happi- 
 nefs. Indeed ii wouLi be a great misfcrtune to him 
 who is meditating in tranquillity the execution oF 
 fome excellent w^ork, if he v/ereuniverfally beloved ; 
 for every one wxuld then be anxious to vifit him ; 
 he would be peftered with invitations to dinner ; 
 and the fir/h queiVi :>n in all companies would be.. 
 Will he come Happily, however, Philofopher^ 
 are not the characlers moil:' d'ftinguiihed and belov- 
 ed by t;.e world ; and t'-iey have the pUafure of rc- 
 fl^di;]g, that the public hatred is never unirerfally 
 excited againft an ordinary man. Acknowledge, 
 thrn, that there is fomething great in the man againit 
 whom all exclaim, at whom every one throv/s a 
 ftone, to whofe condudl all impute a thoufand ab- 
 furdities, and on whofe chara6i:er all attempt to affix 
 a thoyfaod crimes without being ablet:) prove one- 
 {XV) 
 
a:70 The Influence of Sdlituds, 
 
 The fate of a man of genius, who lives retired and 
 unknov/n, is itill more enviable : he nay then re- 
 main quiet and alone ; and as it will af>pear natural 
 to him that bis fentiment^ (houH not be underftood, 
 he will not be lurprlied if the vulgar {h ^uld condeniii 
 whatever he writes and all he fays, or that the ef- 
 forts of hi^ friends to correft the judgment cf the 
 public with refpe^ to his rrerit, (hould prove ufeiefs. 
 
 Such w^as, with refpe^l to the multitude, the 
 fate of the Count Schaumhcurg Lipp^, better 
 known by the title cf ihe Count de Buckebcurg. 
 Of all the German auth ts,! never knew one w^hoie 
 wriiifjgs were more ridiculed or fo Rttie underll - od ; 
 and yet his name was worthy of being r:.nked 
 among the greateil characters whicli his country 
 produced. I became acquainted with him at a time 
 when he lived alaioil continually in Soliavle and 
 retired from the wcrld, managing his fmaU eftate 
 with great difcretion. There was indeed, it muft 
 be confeffed, feme thing in his manner and appear- 
 ance which, at firft fight, created dilgu'l, and pre- 
 vented you from paying a proper attention to the 
 excellent qualities of his mind. 
 
 The Count de Lacy, formerly ambalTador 
 'from Spain to Peterfhurgh^ infcra^.ed me at Mano- 
 ^er, that he led the bpaniih army againfi the Portu- 
 guefe at the time they were commanded by the 
 Count de Buckebourg ; the fingularity of whofe 
 peribn and manners fo forcibly flruck the minds of 
 all the Spaniih generals, wh'le they w^re reconnoi- 
 tering the eaemy wi<h their telefccpes, that they ex- 
 claimed with one voice, " Are the Portuguefeccm- 
 manded by Don Quixotte V Th-3 arab'alladcr, 
 however, who poflelied a very liberal miod, Ipoke 
 with enthufiafdc rapture of t'^:e good conducl: of 
 Buckebourg in P-^rtugd. and praifed in the warm- 
 efl terms the ex ;t Hence of his mind and the great- 
 nefs of his chara(?C'e r. Plis iicroic countenance, his 
 flowing hair, his tail and meagre figure, and above 
 
The Infiuencc of Solittule, 17 1> 
 
 all, the extraordinary length of his viBige, might m 
 truth bri ^g b.idc the recollecftion of the Knight of 
 La Mmcha ; for certaia it is, that iit a diliance he 
 maie a moft romantic appearance : on a nearer ap-- 
 proach, howev.r, a cloler view- immediately con- 
 viaced you of ihe contrary. The fire an i animation' 
 ofhisfeitures a-m:>aace:l the eievati 3n, fig xity, 
 penetration, kin. inefs, virtue and lerenity of his foul, 
 Suolinae fe i laments and heroic thoug;hts were as 
 familiar and natur d to his mind, as they were tQ 
 the noohil chara6i:c;rs of Greece and R3me. 
 
 The Couit was born in London, and his cha-- 
 ra6ler was with :)ut d.:)ubt v/aimfic d and ex^raordi- 
 niry. The anecdotes relate J to me bv a German 
 Prince (a relation of G junt Guillaume) c .^ncernin.i? 
 I him, are perhaps not generally kn^wn. He was 
 I fond of con^en iiag wiih the EngUili in every tliingo 
 ' For inftmce, he hid a v/ager, that he would ride 
 an horfe to Edinburgh hackwarJs, that is with the 
 hvife'ohead turned towards EJinb'.irgh, and the 
 1 Couat's fiice t:)W .rds London ; and in this manner 
 I lie afta \Uy r.:de through fevsral counties in England. 
 He not only traverled t^;e greateif parr of that king- 
 dom on foot, but travelled in company with a Ger- 
 man prince through feveral of the counties in the 
 charader of a beggar. Biing informed that pare 
 of the current of 'he D.mube, above Regenfberg, 
 was fo ftro ig an.l rapid that no one ever d.tred to 
 fwim acrofs it, he m.ade the attempt, and fv/am fo- 
 far that it v/as v/ith difficulty he faved h^.s hfe. A 
 great ftatefman aud profound phiiofopher related to 
 me at Hanover, that, during the war in w^hich the 
 C:unt commanded the artillery in the army of 
 Prince Ferdinand of Brunfwick againft the French,, 
 he one day invited feveral Ha^toverian officers to 
 dine with him in his tent. When the company 
 v/ere in hij^h fpirits and full of gaiety, feveral can-- 
 non-balls flew in diiTerentdiredions about the tent.- 
 " Tne French/' exclaimed the officers, cannot. 
 
172 The InfMcnce of Miiude. 
 
 ba far ofF"— " No, n-/' replied the Count, " th,? 
 enemy, I affiire you, are at a great difiince ;"*nd 
 lie delired them to k?ep their feats. 1 he firmg 
 foon afrerwards nxominenced ; when one of the 
 balls carrying av/ay the top of the tent, the officers, 
 rcfe fuddenly from their chairs, exclaiming, I'he 
 French^ are here/'—'' No,'* replied the Count, 
 the French are net here ; and therefore, Gentle- 
 men, I dehre you will again fit d own, a nd rely upcn 
 my word."' The balls continued to ily about ; the 
 ojlicers, however, continued to cat and drink with- 
 out apprehePifion, though not without whilpering 
 iheir coDjefturCa to each c>ther upon the fin[(ularity 
 of their entertainmen^ The Count at Iei:gth rofe 
 fiFom the table, and addrefii^g himfelf to the ccni- 
 pany, faid, " Gentlemen, I was willing to convince 
 ■T'ou how well 1 can rely upon the cfhcers cf my ar- 
 4:ill^ry ; for I ordered them to f re, durii:g ths time 
 T;e continued at cinner, at the pinnacle of the tenr ^ 
 ^-^nd thev have executed my orders with great punc- 
 tuality 
 
 Rcfl:6'ting minds w'll net be uiithankful for 
 thel'^e traits of the chara(rter cf a man anxious to ex- 
 crcifc himfeif and thole under his command in every 
 thirg th'^.t appeared diiricult or enterprifing. Being 
 ene day in company with the Count i")y the fide of 
 a magazine of gun-powder v/hich he had made un- 
 der his bed-chamber in fort AVilhelmllein, I obfer- 
 ved to him, that " I ihould not Deep very content- 
 edly there during forne of the hot nights cf himmer/'" 
 The Count, however, convinced me, though I do 
 net now recollecl: how, that the greateii danger and 
 no d;mger is one and the fame thing. When I 
 firil faw this exiraordinary man, which was in the 
 company of an Engliih and a Portuguefe officer, he 
 entertained me for two hours with'a difcourfe upon 
 the Phyliology of Halier, whcfe works he knew by 
 liearf. The enfuing morning, he infilled on my ac- 
 companying him in a little boat, which he rowed 
 
27;^? Ihfljence of S^lifucU, 
 
 1-73 
 
 hlmreif, to fort Wilrielmftein, which, from pl?.rs hs 
 (hewed me of his own drawing, be h:id conllrucled 
 in the midiis of the water, where not a foot of land 
 w.LS to be feen. On Sunday, upon the great pa-^- 
 radd at Pyrmont, furrounded by many thcufand 
 men who were occupied in drefs, dancing and ma- 
 king love, he entertained me on the very fpot dur- 
 ing the courfe of two hours, and with as much tran- 
 quillity as if we had been alone, by detailing all the 
 arguments that have been ufed to prove the exifU 
 ence of God, pointing out their defedive partSjacd 
 convincing me that he could furpafs them alL • To 
 prevent niy efcape from this leffon, he held me fall 
 all the time by the button of my coat. He fhewed 
 me, at his feat at Buckebourg, a large foHo volume 
 . ia his own hand-writing, On the Art of defend- 
 ing a fmall Town againll a great Power.'^ The 
 work was com^pletely finifhed, and' defigned as a 
 prefent to the King of Portugal ; but he did me 
 tre favor to res d many pallages refpe<S:ing the fe-- 
 curiiy cf Swifferland. — The Count confidered the 
 Swifs invincible ; and pointed out to me net only 
 all the important parts which they might occupy 
 againflan enemy, but fhewed me roads which a cat 
 would fcarcely be able to crav/i through. I do not 
 bilieve that any thing was ever written of higher 
 importance to the inrereils of any country than this 
 work ; for the manufcript contains ftriking anfwers 
 to all the obje(n:ions a Swifs himitlf could make. 
 My frienJ, M. Moyfe Mendelfohm, to whom the 
 Count had read the preface to this work atPyrmont, 
 confidered it as a made r- piece, both for its correct 
 language and tine philcfcphy ; for the Count could ^ 
 WTite the French language with almcft the fame eafe, 
 elegance, and purity as Voltaire ; while in the Ger- 
 man he was labored, perplexed, and diffufe. What 
 adds to his praife is, that upon his return to Pcrtu- 
 gal, he had with him, for many years, two of the 
 mofl acute mafters of Germany, firft Abbt. aad 
 (XV 2) 
 
174 
 
 The Injluencc cf Solkude* 
 
 afterwards Herder. Thcfe uho fee with more pen- 
 etratiDg eyes than mice, and have hid more oppor- 
 tunities to make Gblervations, c.re able to relate a 
 variety of remarkable anecdotes concerning this 
 truly great ar^d extraordiaary man. I (hall oolyadd 
 one obiervation more reljpecting his cliaracler.avail- 
 icg myfclfof the words of Shaksfpeare : tr.eCoDnt 
 Guiilaume de SchaumbcurgL'ppe carries no dagger ; 
 
 " He has a lean and hungry look— • 
 *' ————but he's not dangerous j 
 
 <( — He reads much ^ 
 
 "He is a great obferver ^ apd he looks 
 
 Quite through the deeds ot naen.r Fie loves no ^ilajs ; 
 ^'^ — he hears no muGc j 
 
 Seldom he fmiles, and fmiies in fuch a fort, 
 
 As if he mock'd himfelf, and fcorn'd his fpirit 
 
 That could be movM to fmile at a-iy thin-." 
 
 Julius Osfar, A€t 1. Scene 4. 
 
 Such v/as the cham£ler, alway? rnifunder flood, 
 of this Iclitary man. A charrxcer of this defcriptioii 
 may well fmile, when he perceives himfelf fcoffed 
 at by the world ; but what mufi be the ihanie and 
 confuiion of thofe partial judges, when they fhail 
 behold the monument which the grveat Mendelfchm 
 has erecled to his memory ; or the judicious hifl: )ry 
 of his life which a young author is about to publifh 
 at Haiiover ; the profound fentiments, the noble 
 iiyle, the truth and fmcerity of which will be difcov- 
 cred and acknowkdge-dby imp3.rdal poderity ! 
 
 The men who laugh, as 1 have fecu them laugh 
 a thoufand times, at Buckebourg, on account of 
 his long vifige, his flowing hair, his great hat, and 
 little fword, may very v/ell indulge their fmiles of 
 fcorn, if, Hke the Count, they are philofephers and 
 heroes. The Count de 13uckebourg, however, nev- 
 er fm.iled at the world or upon men but with kind- 
 nefs. Without hatred, v/ithout mifanthropy, he 
 enjoyed the tranquillity of his country-houfe, iitua- 
 ted in the bofom of a thick foreft, frequently alone, 
 or with the virtuous woman whom he had chofen 
 for his wife 5 and for whom, while living, hs did 
 
The Influence of Soliiiide. IJ^ 
 
 cot appear to entertain any extraordinary fond^efs; 
 but v/lien flie died, his affe^lion for her was ib 
 great, that the lofs of her brought him almoil to 
 the p^rave. 
 
 Lt was thus that the people laughed at Themif- 
 tocle^, in Athens. They reviled him openly as he 
 paHed along the fcreets, becaufe he did not poffefs 
 the manners of the WT^rld, the ton of good company, 
 and was ignorant of that accomplifhjrie.nt called 
 genteel breeding : One day, however, he retorted 
 upon thefe railers v/ith tVekeens^ft: afperlty — " It is 
 true," faid he, " 1 never 1 earned how to tune a iyre^ 
 or play upon a lute ; but I knov/ how to raife a 
 faiail and inconfiderable city to glory and greatnefs.*' 
 
 Solitude and philofophy, therefore, although 
 tV.ey may infpire fendments at v.'hich the world woll 
 laugh, banifn every m.ean and fordid idea from the 
 mind, and prepare the way for the grandefL and 
 moil fublim^e conceptions. He who is accuftomed 
 to uudy the chara<flers of great men, and to admire 
 elevated fentiments, will almofi imperceptibly adopt 
 a romantic fiyle of thinking, which may frequently 
 afford an ample fabjeci: to laughter. The romantic 
 mind always views things differently from what 
 they are ©r ever can be ; and a conftant habit of 
 contemplating the fublime and beautiful, renders 
 fuch charaders in the eyes of the weak and wicked, 
 ridiculous and infuppcr table. Men of thig turn of 
 mind always difcover a noblenefs of foul which fre* 
 quently offends the faihionable world ; but it is not 
 on that account lefs noble. The pUilolbphers of 
 India annually quitted their folitude to vlfit the paU 
 ace of the king, when each of tliem, in his turn, de- 
 livered his advice upon the government of the itate, 
 and upon the changes and limitations which might 
 be made in the laws. He w^ho three fucceffive times 
 communicated fslfe or unimportant oblervations, 
 loft, for one ^'enr, the privilege of fpeaking in the 
 pretence of the fovereign. There are luany other 
 
I'/ 6 The Influence ff Sillitid^s 
 
 romantic philcfcprers, who would require much 
 more, but would do nothing. Plotinus requeited 
 the Emperor Gxdlienus to confer upon him the fove- 
 re'gnty of a fmAll city in CaiTipania, and the lands 
 appendant to it. The city was to be called Platc- 
 nopoiis ; for Plctinus had promifed to refide there 
 with his friends and followers, and realize the re- 
 public of Plato. But it happened then as it fre- 
 quently happens now in many courts to philofo- 
 phers much lefs chimerical than Plotinus — ^the cour- 
 tiers laughed at the propofal, and told theem.peror 
 that the philofopher was a fool, whofe mind expe-- 
 rience could not refoim. 
 
 ^ The pidure of the greatnefs and virtue of the 
 ancients produces,in Solitude, thehappieft influence 
 upon minds fufceptible of thole ideas and fentiments, . 
 Sparks of th?.t bright flame which warmicd the bo- 
 forns of the great and good, fometimes operate the 
 nioit unexpected effects. To cheer the drooping 
 fplrits of a lady in the country whofe health was 
 impaired by a nervous affe^Bon, I advifed her to 
 read very frequently the hiftcry of the Greek and 
 Roman Empires. At the expiration of three months 
 fne^Tote to me, " Vfith what veneration for anti- 
 quity have you ii^fpired my mdnd I Wh it are ike 
 buzzing race of th^ prefent age, when compared with 
 thcfe noble chara<Sters ! Hiftcry heretofore was not 
 my favorite ftudy ; now I hve only on its pages. 
 I feel during the prcgrefs of my ftudy, the ftrongeH 
 inclioation to becomie acquainted with all the tranf- 
 adions of Greece and Rome. . It has opened to m.e 
 an inexhauilibli fource of pleafure and health. I 
 could not have believed that my library contained 
 fo inefiimable a treafure ; it will become dearer to 
 jfne than any thing I inherit. In the courie of fix 
 months you will no longer be troubled with my 
 complaints. My Plutarch has already become more 
 valuable to me than all the triumphs of coquetry, or 
 all ihat fejitimental writing addrelTed to ladies in the 
 
7T- ^ " ■■cecf'Mtiidc. 177 
 
 country v/iio r . ^ cv. le.d to be all he?.rt, and \uih 
 v; hi>ni latan phys tricks of love with^tlie faraead- 
 drcfs 'ci5 a dvhuinte plays tricks of r/iulic m the vio- 
 lin.** This lady, who, I coi -fefs, is learne:% gives 
 me further information refpecting the conducl: of 
 her kitchen, and ihe management of her p^uliry 
 yard hut fhe hss recovered her heal h, and I think 
 (he v/ill hereafter find as much pkafure in houfe- 
 keeping and feeding: her ciiickens ihe did formerly 
 from the p ges of Plutarch. 
 
 The hi.'.lcry of the gra-.deiir and \ irtue ef the 
 ?.n:€ients cannot operate for any length of time^ ex- 
 cept in the tranquilhiy of retirement, or among a 
 fmall circle of men ; but it may produce in the event 
 the happ^.en: eftcCts. The min 1 of a man of gsnius^ 
 is during his Cditary Vv^aiks iilhd with a crowd of 
 ideas which appear ridiculous to h's fellovv -citizens ; 
 but ihc: perio-d will arrive, when they will lead m.il- 
 lions to perform actions wo! thy of immcrlaliiy* 
 The Swifs fjngs comxpoied by Lavater appeared at 
 a time unfavorable to their reception, and when the 
 Republic v/as in a dechning ftate. The Swifs So- 
 cie'y of Schin'.zu xh, who had prevailed upon that 
 a.rde::t genius tocom.pofs thcfe fcngs, offended the 
 French AmbalTador, and from that time the Soci- 
 ety was exclaimed agalnicirom every corner of the 
 kingdjm. The great Haller himfelf pointed his 
 epigrams againft the members in every letrer which 
 I received from him ; for they had brg refufed to 
 admit him into the Society. — He confido' ed us as 
 enemies to orthodoxy, and difciples of Jean Jacques 
 RoufTeau, a man hateful to his eyes. ThePrcfident 
 of the committee for the reformation of literature 
 defended at Zurich the Swifs Songs of Lavater, 
 from the excellent motive, That it was not lawful 
 to ftir up the old dun^-hilL No p-^et of Greece, 
 however, wrote 'with more fire ar.d force in favor of 
 his country than I/avater did for the interells of 
 Swifferhnd. I have heard children chaunt thefs 
 
nS The Injluencc of Solihid^, 
 
 fongs vith p^itriotic enthufiafm, and feen the' fiaeil 
 eyes fiiied with tears whil;' theT ears lifliened to the 
 finger. Rapture glowed in the bre^fts of the Swifs 
 peafants to whom they were fung ; their mufcbs 
 iwelled, the bbod inflamed their cheoic?. Fathers 
 with v/nom I am acquainted have carried their in- 
 fant children to the Chapel of Will'a n IVll, to fmg 
 in full chorus the fong which Lavater wrote upon 
 the merits of that great man. Lh ve made the 
 rocks re-echo to my voice, by fniging thefe fongs to 
 the mnfic which ray heart co.aiporci f ^r t'le a ia 
 the fields, and upon th ie c:le>',-^red mountains 
 where thefe htroes, the ancellors .four rare, figna- 
 r.zed rhemfdvrs by their immortal v ib^. I thrught 
 myfelf eacompaHed by their vensraoie fn^-des. I 
 fancied that I faw them iiill armed with their kaot- 
 te i clubs breaking to pieces the crowned helmets 
 of Germany, and, alth ragh inferior in numbers, 
 forcing the proud nobility to feek their faf-ty by a 
 precip^.tare and ignomu^ious (iignt. 
 
 'i'h's, L fnaii perhaps be told, is romantic ! for 
 romantic ideas can only pleafe folitary and reclufe 
 men, who al ;/ay3 fee objtfe in a different point of 
 view from the multitude around them. Great idea?, 
 however, fometinies penetrate ia fpite of the meal: 
 obilinate refinance. In republics they operate in- 
 fenbly, and inlipire ebvated femimeats, waich may 
 become exteniively ufeful in times of trouble and 
 coiTimotion. 
 
 Every tiling unites in Solitude to raifethe foul 
 and fortify the numaa characfler, becanfe the mind 
 th'-re habkuates itfelf, muc.i better than in tne 
 world, to noble featiments and heroic refolutions- 
 The folirary man polleiles a charm againfi: all the 
 fhafts of ftupidicy , envy and wickedneis. Ref .^Ived 
 to think and to a'cl upon every cccafion in oppofition 
 to the featiments of narrow minds, he attends to ail 
 the contrarieties he meets wnth, but is aftonifhed at 
 noae. Entertaimug a juft and rational efteeai for 
 
ite Jnpience Solitude. 
 
 friends, but fenfible aif^ that t'^ey, like enennies, 
 ge^'. nilly indulge tneir fe ii-^gs to excefs, t iat ?.\\ of 
 theai ar- partial, and inclined to f riii too fav^ra-. 
 ble ajud;2;ment, he app ^.^Is t -eref re to th^ jadg- 
 ment of the public ; nor, indeed to the public -^f his 
 own city, who always confider t. t per/on and not the 
 thing in controverly, who never decide until they 
 have heard the opinions of two or three beaux efprits ; 
 but he appeals to thr world at L.rge, at v. hole im- 
 parti.d tribunal he appears, and, with his works in 
 his hand, demands the jufbice that is due. 
 
 But it is commonly thought that Solitude by 
 elevating t; e fentiments, renders the mind unfit for 
 bufmefs : this, however, I do not believe, it rauit 
 cvsrr be highly beneficial to raife the f ul by tbe ad- 
 vantages of retirement, and to exprcife the miud in 
 Solitude in fuch a manner as will prevent our totter- 
 insc fo frequently in the world, and give us full pof- 
 feiTion of it in all the events of public life. The love 
 of truth is prefer ved by SoUtude, and virtue there 
 acquires a greater firmnefs ; although I acknowledge 
 that in bufmefs it is not needful always to tell tr.e 
 truth, and that a rigid virtue frequently mifcarries 
 in the alTairs of life. 
 
 Ti-e virtue and fim.plicity of manners which 
 Solitude produces, are revered by the j.!:reat and 
 good of every clime. It was th'.fe ineliiir.able qual- 
 ities v;hich, curing the higriefl fury of the war be- 
 tween England and France, obtained the philcfo- 
 phic Jean Andre de I.uc the reception he met with 
 at the court of Verjailks^ and infplred the breafi: of 
 the virtuous, the immortal de Vergennes with the 
 deiire to reform, by m.eans of a philofopher, the 
 heads of the cir'zens of Geneva, which he, with all 
 the power of the Prime Minifter of France, had not 
 been able to elFe£l. Da I^uc, at the requePt of the 
 ininifler, made the attempt, but failed of fuccefs ; 
 and France, as it is well kuov/n, was obliged to 
 lend an army to reclaiai the Geaevefe. it was Ui> 
 
X So T/je Influence of SoUtucuu \ 
 
 on his favorite mountains that the philofopher Jetin ^ 
 /.ndre de Liic acquired that fiiiipHclty cf manners^ 
 which he fiill prelerves amid all the luxury of Lon- 
 don, where he endures withfirmneis ail the wants, 
 refuies all the indulgences, and fubdues all the de- 
 fircsof fecial life. At Hanover I could only re- 
 mark one lingie in! Lance of luxury in which he in- 
 dulged himfelf : when any thing vexed his mind, 
 he chewed a little morfei of fugar, and, of courfe, 
 always carried a (mail fupnly of it in his pocket. 
 
 Sohtude not only creates fimplicity of manners, 
 but prepares nnd freiigthens the facuhies for the 
 toils of bufy life. Foilered in the bofom of retire- 
 ment, the mind fe^ls a greater degree of activity 
 when it engages in the tranfaclions of the world, 
 and retires again into tranqaiiiity to repofa iifelf, 
 and prep?. re for a new confiid. Pericles, Fh:^cion, 
 EpaminonJas, laid the fcundaiion of all their great- 
 ntfs in Solitude : they there acquired that llyle 
 which is not to be learned in the fcrum of the Uni- 
 veriity — the ftyle of their future lives and actions. 
 When the mind of Pericles was occupied i)y impor- 
 tant cbj:s61:s, he never appeared in the ftreets ex- 
 cept to tranfadi: his bul'neis, and inftantly renoun- 
 ced feafcing?, pul;lic affimiblies, and every other 
 pleaiure of tre kind. While the admiriftration of 
 the affairs of tiie r:-public w is in his hands, he only 
 went once to fup v/ith a friend, and came away 
 very focn. Phocion immediately refigned hindelf 
 to the ftudyof p'lili. iophy.nct from the onentaticus 
 motive of being called a wile man, but to place him- 
 felf in a condition to conduci: the ' ufrnefs of the 
 Irate with greater reiblution and effed,* I'he peo- 
 ple were alioniihed, and ii^ quired of each other, 
 when and by what m.eai:s Epaminondas, after hav- 
 ing palled his whole life in fiudy, had not only learn- 
 
 * Thus Tacitus fpeaks of Helvidius Prii'cus : " Ingeniom i)ltif?re 
 altioribus ftudiis juvenis admodum dedit, non ut raagnifico nomine cci- 
 tai velarei, led guolirmior advexfuc fortuiU rempubiicani capcffeietc'* 
 
The Influence of Sofitude. 1 8 f 
 
 I ed, but as it were all at once exercifed the military 
 i art in i's highefl perfeclion. He was frugal cf his 
 time, devoted his miad entirely to the delights of 
 ; literature, and, dcfiring nothing fo much as to b«2 
 i exempt from bufmefs, withdrew himr:lf from every 
 public employment. His country forced him frcin 
 the retreats of Solitu.'le, gave him the command of 
 1 the anny, and he laved the repubhc, 
 
 A chara^ler upoCi which I never reflect but with 
 I the high jft tranfports, the character of Petrar>:h, 
 was formed entirely in Sohtude, and was by that 
 means rendered capable of rranfafting the moil 
 j complicated pontical affairs. Petrarch was without 
 ' doubt, Ibmelimes, what perfons very frequently be- 
 come in Solitude, choleric, fatirical, and petulant. 
 He has been reproached with great feverity for the 
 lively piftures he has drawn of the manners of his 
 age, and particularly for his portrait of the fcenes 
 of infamy wrich were tranfafled at Avignon under 
 the reign of Pope Clement the Sixth. But Petrarch 
 was perfedly acquainted with the human heart, 
 knew how to manage the paffions with uncommon 
 dexterity, and to ccndu(fr them diredly to his pur- 
 pofe. The Abbe de Sades, the beii hiftorian of 
 his life, fays, " Petrarch was fcarcely known ex- 
 cept as a tender and elegant poet, who loved with 
 unextinguifhable ardor, and fang, in all the harmo- 
 ■ ny of vcirfe, the graces of his mifcrefs ; and nothing 
 morels known of his charafter.'' They knew not 
 i all ti^.e obligations that lirerature, which he reclaim- 
 I ed from the barbarity under which it had been fo 
 I long buried, owes to his p^n. They knew not that 
 1 he laved the works of thc^ befl; writers of antiquity 
 from duft ar.d rottennefs ; that all ihefe precious 
 treafures would have been loft to us, if he had not 
 dug them from the grave, and procured correcl: cc- 
 V^es of them to be made. They were ignorant, per- 
 haps, that he was the firft reftorer of the belks lettrcs 
 m Er.rope ; that he purified the taftc of the age ; 
 rXVD 
 
i % 2 7 he Injtuencc of Solitude. ' 
 
 that he himftlF thought and wrote like an anclerrt: 
 citizen of R ome before its tall ; that he extirpated a 
 jnultitude of prejudices, preferved his courage and 
 his firmnefs until the hour of his death, and that his 
 laft work furpaffed all thofe which had preceded it. 
 Still lefs were they informed that Petrarch was an 
 able llatefman, to v/hom the mcft celebrated (cve- 
 j^igns of his age cor.iided every diflicult negocia- 
 tion, aud confulied in their moft important concerns ; 
 that in the fourteenth century he poflefTed a degree 
 of fame, credif, and influence, which no man of 
 learijing of the prefent day has ever acquired ; that 
 three popes, an emperor, a fovereign of France, '<\ 
 :king of Naples, a crcv;d of cardinals, the greateft 
 princes, the moft illuftrious nob'lity of Italy, culti- 
 • vated his friemdfhip, and fohcited h^.s correfpond- 
 ence ; that, as a ftitefman, a minifter, an ambaffi- 
 dor, he was employed in tranlacting fome of the 
 greatefl affairs of the age ; that he was thereby 
 placed in a fituation to inftrucl them inthem. fi: 
 ufeful and important truths ; that to Solitude alone 
 he owed all this power ; that no perfon was better 
 acquainted with its advantages, cherifhed it with 
 greater fondnefs, or refcunded its praifes with great- 
 er energy ; and that he at length preferred liberty 
 and leifure to all the enjoyments of the world. He 
 appeared a long time enervated by love, to which 
 he had confecrated the prime of his life ; but he 
 fuddenly abandoned the foft and effeminate tone 
 with which he fighed at Laura's feet ; addreffed 
 Jiimfelf with manly boldcefs to kings, to emperors, 
 to popes ; and ever afterwards maintained that con- 
 •fidence which fine talents and a great chara(5i:2r al- 
 ways infpire. With an eloquence worthy of De- 
 mofthenes and Cicero, he exhorted the princes of 
 Italy to make peace among themfelves, and to unite 
 their powers againil the common enemies, the bar- 
 barians, who tore to pieces the very bofom of their 
 cauatry. He encouraged, guided and fupported 
 
The Influence of Solitude, l B'3 ' 
 
 Rienzi, who appeared like a guardian angel Tent 
 from Heaven to re-eftablifh the original fplcndcr of 
 the city of Rome. He incited a pul-Ilanimous em- 
 peror to p2netra<e into the heart of italy, and leize, 
 as the facceilor cf the Ca^fars, the g:.vernment of 
 tlie empire. He conjured the popes to repla-re the 
 holy chair, which they had tranipDrted to the bor-" 
 ders of the Rhin?, once more upon the banks' of the 
 Tiber. At a time even when he acknowledges, \n 
 ore of his writings, that his mind was filled with 
 vexation, hisbr.ibm tormented by a tender paffion 
 which he was inceSandy endeavoring to conquer, 
 difguited with the conduct of men, and tire ! with 
 pubhclife, Pope Clement the Sixt'u who, without 
 doubt, was ignorant cf what vvas paiTrng in his heart, 
 intrufled him wiih a negcciation of great difHculty 
 to the ccurt cf Naples, Petrarrh undertook the 
 charge. Pie confclTes that the hfe cf a court had 
 rendered him ambitious, bufy, and enterprizing ; 
 and that it was laughable to behold a hermit, ac- 
 culfomed to hve in woods, and traverfe the plains^ 
 now running through the magnificent palaces of 
 cardinals, with a crowd of courtiers in his fuite. 
 When John Vifconti, Archbifhcp and Prince of 
 Mil m, and fjvereign c fall Lombnrdy, a man who 
 united the fiaefl talen's with an ambition fo infatia- 
 ble that it threatened to fwaliow up all Italy, had ■ 
 the happinefs to fix Petrarch in his interefts, and by 
 inducing him to underiakethe office of private Se- 
 cretary, to gain every thing that could accompany- 
 fuch an acquifition, a philoibpher and man of learn- 
 ing, who efteemed Scfiiude above any other fitua- 
 tion ; the friends of Petrarch exclaimed, " How ' 
 this bold republican, who breathed no fentiment,^ 
 but thcfe of liberty and independence, this untamed 
 bull, who fpurned at the fhadow ci the yoke ; who 
 dildained to wear any other fetters than thcfe of 
 bve, rnd who frequenly found even thefe too hea- 
 vy y who r^fufed fo many advantageous olTers fr^m' 
 
1 84 The Influence ^ Solitude ^ 
 
 the court of Rome, and preferred his liberty to 
 theenilaving charms of gold, now voluntarily fub- 
 mits to the fhackles of the tyrant of It?ly ; thiq 
 mifanthrope, who could no longer exifl in rural 
 tranquillity ; this great apoitle of Solitude, has ai 
 length quietly taken his habitation amidih tb.e tu- 
 mults of Milan " My friends,'^ replied IV 
 trarcb, " you are perfeclly riglir ; man has not a 
 greater enemy than hirofelf. 1 hive acled contra- 
 ry to mj inclination, and againft my own fenti- 
 ments. Alas in all the tranfactions of our lives, 
 we do thofe things thu we ought not to do, and 
 leave undone thofe things to v/hi^h we are moll 
 inclined." But Petrarch might have told his friends, 
 *' 1 was inclined to give yon an example of what a 
 man is able to do io the affairs of the world, when 
 he has fufficiently exercifed the powers of his mh;d 
 iQ Solitude, and to convince ycu that a previous 
 retirement confers liberty, iirmnefs, expreffion, fo- 
 lidity, dignity and n^Bbility upon all the tranfadior.s 
 of public life.*' 
 
 Averfion from the commefce cf the wo4-ld and 
 the frivolous employments of the m.erropcl'.s, in- 
 fpires the mind with a fullici nt degree of comrge 
 to defpife the prejudices of the age, and the opin- 
 ions of the mul'itude ; a coun^.ge which is there- 
 fore feldom found except amorg iblitary men. The 
 comir.erce of the wcrl.^ far from fortifying i\\z 
 foul, only weakens it, in ilie fime m.anner that e[> 
 joyment, too frequently repeated, blunts the cd|^e 
 of every pleai\n-e. C) ' i;ow frequently the belt 
 plans fail of fucccfs from diilicult'cs of execution, 
 notwithfiandir g the accuracy and excellence with 
 which they arc farmed : How many h?ppy thoughts 
 have been {tilled at the moment cf their birih, be- 
 cauie they then appeared rather too bold I Whea 
 a literary work appears, no inquiry is made con- 
 cernirg the excellence of the matter or the elega::ce 
 of its compofition. 1 he readtr fecks only to di- 
 
The Infmcnce of Solitude, rG ^ 
 
 vine the intention of the author ; coDftrnes every 
 cxpreilion contrary to its import ; perceives a veiin 
 of iktire wnere in fu(5l no fatire exifts, where it 
 would be impoflible that there fli:.uld be any ; and 
 disfigures even thofe refpedable truths which ther 
 author difclofes in the fincerity of his heart, and 
 for which every jufl and honed mind will fiiently 
 thank him. 
 
 I'he Prefident Monti fquieu experienced this 
 treatment at Paris in the meridian of his fplendor ; 
 and for this reafon he has obferved in the defence 
 of his immortal v/ork, " ll-e Spirit of Lavjs^ — 
 Nothing ftifies knowledge more than covering ev- 
 ery thing with a debtor's robe ; for the men who 
 are continually teaching, are great hindrances to 
 learning. There ie no genius tnat is not contract- 
 ed, when it is enveloped in a million of vain icru- 
 ples. Although you have thei)eft intentions that 
 were ever formed, they will force the mind to 
 doubt its own integrity. "Ylw can no longer em- 
 ploy your endeavors to fpeak or to write with pro- 
 priety, when you are perplexed with the fear of ex»- 
 prefling yourlelf ill-, and when inftead of purfuing 
 your thoughts you are only bufy in felecting fuch 
 terms as may efcape the fubtl-ty of the critics* 
 They fecm inclined to place a biggin on our heads, 
 and to warn us at every wcr l, Take care you do not 
 fall* You vjould fpeak like yourfelf but I would have you 
 fpeak like me. If you attempt to foar, they pull you 
 by the Heave, and impede your ftight. If you 
 write with hfeand fpir-t, they infra rly deprive y<'^u 
 of it. If you rife to fome height, they take out 
 their rule or corapafs, and hfrl :g up their heads, de- 
 lire you to come down, that they may raeafure you : 
 and in runring your courfe, they advif: you to take 
 notice of all the impe^diments which the ants have 
 raifed in your way." 
 
 Montefquieu fays, that no fcience ncr litera- 
 ture is proc>f agaiiift this oedantry." But, did he 
 (XVI 2) 
 
1-86 V:2 Inf.iiracc -/ SoMiiJe. 
 
 liot himfelf refill it ? Does not his woi k continne 
 to be reprinted ? h it not read with univerfal ap- 
 
 plaul'e ? 
 
 The writer who knows and dares to paint the 
 characfters of men, muft, without doubt, wear a tri- 
 ple Ihield upon his breaft : but, cn the other hand, 
 there is uo book worth reading without this ftyle of 
 painting. There are certairdy truths in every good 
 work, againft which the indignation of thofe who 
 <ire interefted will naturally arife. Why do the 
 Englifh fo far furpafs us in their fpecuhtions upon 
 mankind ? Why do we appear lb puerile, when 
 compared with them, or with the Greek and Ro- 
 man v.riters, cn every fubje^t that refpecls the de- 
 fcription of human manners ? It proceeds from the 
 clamors which are raifed agaicft every author who 
 hazards any opinions upon the philof phy of life for 
 the general benefit ^ mankind. We who honor in 
 fo high a degree tllfccourage of the warrior, why, 
 fike effeminate SybMtes, do the foldings of a rofe- 
 hud trouble our repcfe ? Why do we vomit forth 
 injuries againfc that civil courage, the courage with- 
 out arms, the cfofne/Hcas fortitudines of Cicero ? 
 
 It is falfe, that there is neither heart nor fpirit 
 except in republics : that under the democratic form 
 of: government alone people may ipeak the truth 
 with freedom and fafety, and he who thinks well 
 may think freely. In ariftocracies efpecially, and 
 even under a conflitutioa much more free, but 
 v/here a fingle demagogue poffeffes the fcvereign 
 power, unhappily, alas ! they too frequently confi- 
 der common fenfe as a crime. This abfurdity ren- 
 ders the mind timid, and, of courfe, deprives the 
 people of all their liberty. In a monarchy, punifh- 
 ment is, in almoft every inftance, prefcribed by the 
 laws of juflice ; but in republics it is inflicted by 
 prejudice, paflion and fiate-necefTit^^ Under a re- 
 publican forni of government, the firli maxim pa- 
 rents inculcate into the minds of their cfeildren is. 
 
The Influence of Suitudc- ' 1S7 
 
 not to rcake themfelves enemie?. To t;.is flige 
 counfil* I remember replying, when I w.is very 
 young, " JNIy dear moth.r, do you not know, thiit 
 he who h:is no enemies is a poor man T e citi- 
 zen is, in many republics, under the aulhoriiy and 
 vigilant eyes of mere t.nn an huaJred princes ; but 
 a monarch is the fole prince on v/hom his fubje^ts 
 are d.-pendent. The number of maft-irs in a re- 
 public crulhes t!:e fpirlt ; but in^a mon rchy, love 
 and conliJence in one abne, raifes ihe fpirits of the 
 happy people. In every country, nowcver, the ra- 
 *tionai man, who renounces all tiie ufelcfs converfa- 
 tions of the world, who lives a life of Solitude, and 
 who, fuperior to every thing that he lees, lO all that 
 he hears, forms the integrity of his mind in-^the 
 tranqiiiiiity of retirement, by an inttrrcourfe with 
 the heroes of Greece, of Rome, and of Great-Bri- 
 tain, bys. a permanent foundation for his future 
 character, and acquires a i^tle ftyle of thinking, 
 independent of the caprices qj^he vulgar. 
 
 THESE are the obfervations 1 had to make 
 refpe^t ng the Iniiuence of Solitude upon the Mind. 
 Many ot them are perhaps undigelled, and many 
 more are certainly not weil expreli'ed. 
 
 Dear and virtuous young man, i-nto whofe 
 hands this book perchance may f 11, receive with 
 kindnefs and affection the good v/hich it contains, 
 and rejed all that is ccld and bad ; ail that does 
 not touch and penetrate the heart. But if you 
 thank me for the performance, if you blefs me, if 
 you acknowledge tnat I have enlightened your mind, 
 corrected y ur manners, and tranquillized y^our 
 heart, 1 lhall congratulate myfelf on the lincerity of 
 my intentions, and think ray labors richly rewarded. 
 If, in peruhng it, y^cu hnd yourielf r.ble to jurtify 
 your inclination for a wife and active Solitude, 
 your averfion from th:le focieties wnich only ferve 
 to deflrov time, and your repugnance to employ 
 vile and fhameful nievins iu the acquiiition of ricnes> 
 
i88 
 
 The- Influence of SolHude. 
 
 I ihall afk no other henedi£lion for ray work. If 
 ycu are fearful of opeaing ycur lips j if you labor 
 under the contiiunl appreheniion of faying fome- 
 thir;g that n^.ay be confidered ridiculous, ia the un- 
 derftandings of thofe who have granted to them- 
 lelves the monop ly of wit and taite, and who, by 
 virtue of this ufurpation, go about uttering the great- 
 eft abfurdities — ah !. then think, that in fuch com- 
 pany I Ihoi Id be ccnfidered an equal blockhead 
 with yourfelf. 
 
 The fentiiiien^s of my mind and the feelings of 
 my hsart have guided me in every thing that I have 
 Vfritten upon the fubjetTr of Solitude, it was this 
 which cccafi ;ned a iatly of great wit to ohfrrve, on 
 reading the two firft par:s of this work, that I fhould 
 tmbofom myfelf upon every thirg that 1 felt, and 
 Ihovild lay down my pen the moment thofe feelings 
 were exprefl'ed. I his method of v/riting has cer- 
 tainly produced fa^s which a iyftematic philofo- 
 phin- would not hav^Pommitted. But 1 fhall con* 
 fole myfelf for thefe errors, if this chapter affords 
 only a jdimpre of the advantage of Solitude upoa 
 the minds, the undenlandings, and the characters 
 of men ; and that whkh follows Ihail excite a lively 
 fjnfatioa of the true, noble, and fublirr.e pleafures 
 which S:litude produces by a tranquil and affec- 
 tiot :ate contemplation of nature, and by an exquifite 
 ienlibility fcr every tiling that is good and fair. 
 
 X^EACE OF MIND is, upon the earth, the 
 fupreme good. Simplicity of heart will procure this 
 invaluable blelfing to the wife mortal who, reaoun- 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The Irifiuence of Solitude iipm the Heart* 
 
The Injluence of SolituJe, 189 
 
 cing the noify pleafures of the world, fets bounds 
 to his delires and inclin?.tions, cheeriuily fabmits 
 himfelf to the decrees of Heaven, and, viewing 
 thofe around him with the eye of charitable indul- 
 gence, feels no pleafures more delightful than thofe 
 which the foft murmur of a dream falling in caf- 
 cades from the fummit of recks, the refreihing 
 breezrs of 'he young zephyrs, and theuveet accents 
 of the wood-lmd chaunters,are capable of affording. 
 
 How refined our leniiments become when the 
 tempciis of lifo have fubfided ; when thofe misfor- 
 tuurs winch caufed our alii cli ens have varifhed ; 
 when we fee ourfelvcs furrounded by fritndfhip, 
 peace, fimplicity, innocence, repose and liberty ! 
 
 The heart, to taite the charms of retirement, 
 need not be without emotion. O ! who would not 
 prefer to every other enjoyment the foft melancho- 
 ly whxh Solitude infpires ? AVlio would not re- 
 nounce the univerfe for one frngie tear of love : 
 The heart is fufceptibh of tni^' felicity, when it has 
 learned to admire wirh equah-pleafure nature in its 
 fublimeft beau'ies, and in the mcdeft flow\-r which 
 decorates the valley ; when it has learned to enjoy, 
 at the fame tim?, tliat infinite fyfiem, that miifcrin 
 fucceirion of parts, which expands the fcul, and 
 thofi delicious derails which prefent foft and plea- 
 f.ait images to the mind, 'i'hefe pleafures are not 
 exclufively referved icr firorg, energetic minds, 
 wh fe fenfations are as lively as tliey are delicate, 
 and upon whom, for that reafon, good 2nd bad 
 make an equal impreffion. The pureii hrppinef-^, 
 the mcft enchanting tranquillity, are alfo wilhin the 
 reach of men whole tem.p.rament is ccid ; who, en- 
 dowed with imagmat ions lefs bold and lively, al- 
 ways perceive f^^mething exiravagapt in the energet- 
 ic exprellion of a ftill more energetic fe.dation : in 
 the pi^lures, therefore, whirh are prt fenced to the 
 eye cf luch characters, the coloring mult n:t be 
 high, nor the teints too lh::rp ; kr^ as ihe bad firikes 
 
ti^o Vr-e Influaice of M'ltude, 
 
 them I fs, r? silfo they are iefs fufceptibie of the live- 
 lier enjoyments. 
 
 I'h.e heart owes the mofi agreeable enjoymen(.S' 
 U'hich it derives from Solitude to the imagination. 
 The touching afip^^f of delightful nature; the vari- 
 egated verdure of the forejfs ; the noife of an im- 
 petuous torrent ; the quivering motion of the foh- 
 age ; the harmony of the groves, and an extenfiva | 
 profpeft, raviih the foul ib entirely, and abibrb in' 
 fucha manner all ourfacuhies, that the thoughts of 
 the mind are inftantly converted into fenf^.tions of 
 the heart. The view of an agreeable landfcape ex- 
 cites the foftcft emotions, and gives birth to pLafmg 
 and virtuous f^nt'.nents : all this is produced by the 
 cnarnis of im:^ginaticn. 
 
 '1 he imagination fprer.ds a touching r^nd feduc- 
 tive charm" over every objeft, provided we are fur- 
 rounded by freedom and tranquillity. O ! how 
 eafy it is to renounce n .ify pleafures and tumultu- 
 ous afiembhes f jr the enjoyment of that philof :phic 
 melancholy which Solitude infpircs ! A rehgious 
 horror and fofc raptures are alternately excited by 
 the deep gloom, of iorcfts, by the tremendous height 
 of broken recks, and by the multiplicity of fublime 
 aiid majef- ic cbjec'ts vs^hicli prefent themfelves to cur 
 viev/ 0.1 the ccl'ghtfal icite of a fniiling landfcape, 
 ']licre cu-cno leiiiLiti i s, however pcinful, which are 
 not va;:quifhed by thele ferious but agree ible emo- 
 fions, and by thofe roft reveries to w'hich the fur- 
 rcui;di]ig tranquilluy invites the miind. The Soli- 
 tude of mir;^inc nt and the awful fil T.ce of all nature 
 iiTiprefs an idea cf the happy contrafi between fim- 
 plicity and grandeur. Our feclirgs become more 
 exquiii'e, and our admiiation more livtl]^, in pr(> 
 pordon to the pleafures we receive. 
 
 I had been, during the couHe of many years, 
 fj.mihar with the fubiimeit appearances of nature, 
 when 1 fiWj^'or the liril tin e, a g;:rden cultivated 
 '^a the Englifh talte near Kanover \ aiid foon after. 
 
The InfMenee <f.Ec!ltuek\ 191 
 
 tvarcis I beheld one in the fame ityb, but on a much 
 Iiirger fcale, zt xMancnwerJcr, about the diliaiice 
 cf a league from the former. I was not then ap- 
 prifed of the extent of that art which fpcrts with 
 the m.oft ungrateful fjil, and, by a new fpecies of 
 creLUion, converrs even barren, fandy mountains 
 into fertile and fmiling landicipes. This magic art 
 makes an altonifhing imprefhon on the mind ; it 
 excites in every heart, not yet infenfible to the de- 
 lightful charms of cultivated nature, all the pleafures 
 wnich Solitude, rur^l repofe, and a feclufion from 
 the haunts of men, can procure. I cannot recollecl: 
 a fmgle day during the early part of my refidence at 
 Hanover, without tears of gratitude and joy. Tom 
 from tbcbofom of my ccimtry, from the embraces 
 of my family, and driven from everything that I 
 held dear in life, m.y mina was not fulceptible of 
 any ether fentiments than thofe of the deepeft mel- 
 ancholy. But when I entered into the little garden 
 of my late friend M. de liinnber, near Hanover, 
 I forgot for the moment, both my country and my 
 grief. 
 
 The charm was new to my mind. I was not 
 then apprifed that it was pcflible upon fo fmall a 
 fcale, to imitate the enchanting variety and the iio- 
 ble fimplicity of nature, l was not till then con- 
 vinced that her afpefl: alone was fufficient, at the 
 iirlt viev/, to obliterate all the opprefTion of the 
 world, to excite in our breafts the pur eft luxury, to 
 fill our minds v/ith every fentiment that can create 
 a fondnels for life. 1 flill blefs the hour when I fnib 
 learned this fecret. 
 
 This new re-union of art and nature, which 
 was invented not in China but in England^ is found- 
 ed upon a refined tafte for the beauties of nature, 
 confirmed by experience, imd by the fentiments 
 which a chafte fancy reflects upon a fieling heart. 
 Hirchfeld, the great painter of nature, an amiable 
 and fenCble philofopher, the firil German who by 
 
1-9^ The Influence of SoiiiiiM' 1 
 
 his admirable theories introduced among us a know- 
 ledge of gardening, is become, by conferring this 
 knowledge, one of the greateil benefactors to his 
 country. 
 
 There are, without doubt, many German-Eng- 
 liih gardens fo whimfically and ridiculoufly laid out, 
 that they only excite emotions of pity and contempt, 
 "Who can forbear laughing to (ee fcrefts cf popLir- 
 trees fcarcely large enough to wr.rm a chamber-fcove 
 for a week ; mole-hills which they call mountains ; 
 mecageries of tame and favage animals, birds and 
 smphibious -creatures, grinning in native grandeur 
 upon tin ; bridges without number acrofs a river 
 which a couple of ducks would drink dry ; wooden 
 fifties fwimming in canals whic'i the pump every 
 ni'-rning fuppiies with water ? All this is certairJv 
 ilili leis natur:^! than the pitiful tafte of our ancef- 
 t :rs. But if on the contrary, in the garden of M. 
 Hi;iuber, at Markmverder^ every lo jk elevates my 
 Ibul towT.rd.s God, if every point of view affords lo 
 the eye iubiime repofe ; if on every bank I difcov- 
 er fcenes ever fm'.iing and ever new ; if my heart 
 feels relief from the aipecl: of this enchanting place, 
 ihall I amufe myfeif by difcuiliDg, whether what I 
 fee might have been dene ia a diilerent way. and 
 permit the inlipid pleafantries of cold and taftelefs 
 mailers to diminifh my pkafures ? Scenes of ferefii- 
 ty, whether created by tafteful art or the hand of 
 nature, always convey IranquiUity to the heart ; a 
 kindnefs which it owes to the imagination. If a foft 
 lilence breathes around, and every object is plea- 
 lant to m.y view ; if rural fcenes abforb all my at- 
 tention, and dilTipate the grief th?.t lies heavy on 
 ray heart ; if the lovelinefs of Solitude enchants 
 me, and gradually fubdiiing my foul, leaves it full 
 of benevolence, love and content ; I ought to thank 
 God for thofe powtrs^ of im?ginatioa which, aU 
 thou;^;h it has in:^.eed frequently caufed the trouble 
 of ci'y life, has ahvays led me to fame frien/dJy rock, 
 
Ths Influence of Miiude, l-i^3 
 
 Upon wliic.h I c.^ul J hang while I contemplated with 
 greater compofurc the tempeiis I had efcaped.* 
 
 A celebrated Englifh writer has iird, that 
 " Solitude, 01.1 the firll view of it, infplres the mind 
 witii terror, hec^ ufe every thing that brings with 
 it the idea of privation, is terrific, and therefore 
 fiiblime, like fpace, darknefs and filence." In 
 Swilieriand, and efpeciaily near the Canton of 
 Bt-rn-/, the Alps have st a dillance an atlonifhing 
 grandeur of appec ranee ; but viewed nearer, tliei' 
 infpire images terrilic and fnbhme. That (pecies qI 
 grandeur which accompanies the idea of iniinity, 
 charms the eye when feen at a proper diiianceo 
 The heart feels nothii-g but rarifhment, v/hile the 
 eye ohferves from afar the uninterrupted chain of 
 t'^efe immenle mcur-t?dns, ihefe enormous malies 
 nfing one above the other. 1 he llicceiTion of ibft 
 and lively l^ades tampers the inipreffion, and gives 
 to thi? prod'giou?. wall of r^cks, more of the agree- 
 able than the fubiime. On the contrary, a mind of 
 fenfibility cannot take a near view of thefe moun- 
 tains, without feeling an involuntary trembling, 
 llie eye looks with fear on their eternal fnov/s, 
 their {teep r-eicents, their obfcure caverns, the tor- 
 rents which precipitate themfelves with refcunding 
 ncife over- their lummits, forming innumerable caf- 
 cades, the dark forefts of fir v/ith whirh their fides 
 are overcharged, and the enormous fragments of 
 rocks wh'.c'.i the tem.pefts have detached from their 
 foundations during the courie of time. How my 
 
 * A Frcnch writer has embcHi/lied this idea with all the riches of 
 eloquence. " There is no mind of lenfibility vvliich has not tafted in 
 the rctjeats of SoliLUde thole delicicus moments when man, flying ncni 
 the delufions of falfehood, enters into his own heart to feck the Iparks 
 of truth ! What pleafuie, after having been tofled dur'mg many yeais 
 on the fea of life, to climb fome friendiy rock, and rclk-ct in pesce and 
 fafety on the tcmpcft and fliipwrecks which cnfued ! Happy the man 
 who can then forj:et the idle prejudices which occupy the mind: ihs 
 miferies of humanity vanifli from his fight ; augull'truth fills his bo- 
 fom with the purell: joys. _ it is only in Chtfe moments, and in thole; 
 which precede the dilTolution ofoui mortal frame, that man can lea:ji 
 w*vat he is upon this earth, and what this ear tli to him." 
 
 (XVIi) 
 
194 ' The Injluence of Solitude. 
 
 heart beat, when for the time, I climbed through 
 a Heep and narrow path upon tliofe fublime de- 
 farts, continually^ difcovering new mountains riling 
 over my head, while upon the leaft fi umble death 
 menaced me in a thcuiand difierent ftiapcs bebw ! 
 But imagination loon begins to kindle, when you 
 perceive youriblf al:.T.e in tiie midll of all this gran- 
 deur of nature, and reflect from thefe lieights on 
 the ncthingneis of human power, and the wcaknefs* 
 of the greatefl Monarch s I 
 
 The liiftory of the Swifs evinces that the in- 
 habitants cf thefe mountains zvi no: men of a de- 
 generate cart, but that their fentiments are elevated, 
 and their feelings warm, Their boldnefc and in- 
 trepidity are inoate ; the fphat of liberty gives wings 
 10 their f:uls ; and they trample tyranny and ty- 
 rants under iheirfeet- But L'::e fpirit of i'bcrty is 
 only to be found in its genuine rtiinement among 
 the Alps ; for all the Sv/ifs are not in reality free, 
 although they have notions of liberty, I ve their 
 country, aed return their thanks to die Aimij^hty 
 for that happy peace which permits each ii 'dividual 
 to Hve quietly under his vine, and to enjoy the (hade 
 of his fig-tree. 
 
 The Abs in SwiiTerland are inhabited by a 
 race of men, fomefimes UDfocichlc, but always good 
 and generous. 1 he feverity cf ^helr climat* ren- 
 ders them hardv and robufl, v hile their paftcnd 
 life adds foftnefs to their charaderc Am Englilii- 
 man has faid, that he who never heard ti.under ia 
 the Alps, cannot conceive any idea of the continui- 
 ty of the lightning, the rollicV and the burif of the 
 thunder which rorrs round the h:rizon cf theleim- 
 menfe mountains. Ihe inhabitants of the Alps 
 thereforey who have never fecn better hcufts than 
 their own cabins, or any other countiw than their 
 native rocks, conceive every part cf tl^e univerle to 
 be fcnned of the lame rough materials, and a fcene 
 of unceafmg teinpeiis. But Heaven n notahvays 
 
The hijliisnce of Solitude, 195 
 
 threatening ; the lightning does not continually fladi 
 upon their eyes ; iiiimediatdy after the moft dread- 
 fill tempefts,' the hemilphere clears itfelf by flow de- 
 grees, and becomes (erene. The heads snd hearts 
 of the Swifs are of a fimilar nature ; kindnefs fuc- 
 ceeds 10 anp;er5 and geiierofity to tlie moft brutal 
 fury ; which might be eaiiiy proved, uot only from 
 the records of hilt cry, but from recent facfs. One 
 6)f the inhabitanfs oF thefe fiupendous mountains. 
 General de Redin, born in the Canton of Schwitz, 
 v/as enrolled very early in life in the Swifs guards,, 
 and had attained the ftation of Lieutenant-General ; 
 hut his long retidence at Paris and Verfailles had 
 not in any degree altered his character ; and he con- 
 linued through life a Swifs. I'he orders ifTued by 
 the Court of Verlaiiies in the year 1764, for the 
 regulation of the Swiis who were in the iervice ci^ 
 that Courr, occafioned great difccntents in the Can- 
 ton cf Schwitz. The cidzens confivkred this in- 
 novation as extremely prejudicial to the:r ancient' 
 privileges, and they threw the blame of this mea- 
 lure upon General Redin. At this crifis the w^ife 
 of the General, who rcfi,ied on his e{l:ate, was ex- 
 eriir.g all h^r interefl to raifs recruits; but the 
 ibund of the Frencn drain was become clilVuiling 
 to the ears cf the citizens of t^.e Canton, and they 
 fa V/ with indig ::itiou the whlie cockaik placed in the 
 hits of the deluded peafants. The Magiurate, ap- 
 prehanfive thit this fermentation might ultimateiy 
 Cc'^ufe foaie infarre^lion am ^ng ti e psople, thought 
 it his dufy to prohibit Madame de Redin from con- 
 tinuiiig to raiie her levies. The lady required him 
 to give a certiacate in writing of this prohibition ; 
 but the Magi [Irate v/as not at that moment inclined 
 to a6t with tais fp'rit againii the intereft of Franf'^ ; 
 :\nd the wife of the General continued to ralfe her 
 recruits. This bold meafure irritated the inhabit- 
 ants of the C -mton ; they fummoned a General Di- 
 and IMadaiue dc Redin appeared bifare the 
 
19^ The Injluencc of SolHt'Je, 
 
 I'cur Thoudind. The drum," faid ilie, " fh-M 
 oever ceafe to beat, until you give mea certihcate 
 \yh'cb may jullify my hiilband to the court of 
 I'V^mce for not coaipleiiiig ^.he number of his mer-/' 
 'i !:ey granted her the certiiiaite ihe demanded, and 
 the General was at the fame liiT:e enjoined to uie 
 his int/r'-'i: at the Court of France for the fervice 
 of hh country. Theie i:::ea(ures being adopted, 
 the Canton waiied in anxious expectation of receiv^ 
 ing iatisf.iccory accounts from Paris ; but unhap- 
 pily very dilTatisfac't^ry accounts :irrived. The 
 fedingo of tre inhabitants were irritated beyond 
 reiiraint; and thofe who were poileiTrd of credit 
 and authority publicly maintained that the new reg-. 
 uladon endangered both their liberties and their re- 
 ligion. The general difcontent was iniiantly con- 
 verted mto univerfal fury. 'J lie Diet was again af- 
 fenibled, and it was publicly refolved not to furniih 
 the Kirig of France with any troops hereafie:-. The 
 treaty cf aiiiaace in 1713, was torn ft'oni the ar- 
 chives of the country, and General Red in was or- 
 c'ered to return im.mediatcly with the foidiers under 
 his cnimand, uuc.n pain gf perpetual ex'le. Red- 
 m obtained t".e King's leave of abierice for himfelf 
 and his regiment ; and they returned to thc-ir own 
 country. The General entered Schv/itz, the me- 
 tropolis nf the Canton, at the head of of his troops, 
 with drums beatin^^ and colctirs fiyirg. They 
 in arched; vC wards tie church; Redin placed the 
 colors bv the tide cf the great altar, fell upon his 
 k^ee^-j and cllered up his thanks to God. He then 
 tihcharged to his ioldic rs the ::rrrar3 of their pay, 
 gave them their accoutrements and cL.the;^, and 
 w ith tears in his evcs, wilih they wept around hiiu, 
 tQok his leave. The fury of the populace feenied 
 to isicreale, when they found thcmielves in pcilef- 
 iioa of a n.an whom they confiderc-d as a perfidious 
 wretcn, a traitor who had favored the nev/ regula- 
 tions at the court of Veriailks^ and who had con- 
 
Vie IhjTuence of SoBudf. 197^ 
 
 l^ireJ to give a mortal blow to the interefls of h is 
 country. The General Diet alTembled, and Red hi 
 was fummoned to difclofe the manner in wliich thefe 
 new rt f^ulations had palled, in order that they might 
 know the terms €n which they iiood with trance,,, 
 and learn the degree of offence the traitor had com- 
 mit tcxl, lb that they might afterwards .8;rant him a 
 pardon or apportion his punifhment. Redin, per- 
 fectly '^ware that under the real circumflances of 
 the cafe, eloquence would be vainly exerted againfi; 
 minds heated" in the caufe, contented himfelf with 
 laying roughly, and in few words, that all the world 
 knew the manner in which things had paffed, and' 
 that he was as innocent with regard to the new reg- 
 ulations as he was of his difmiflion. " The traitor 
 then will not confefs 1" exclaimed the mcft furious 
 of the mem.bers ; " hang him on the next tree — cut 
 hi m^ to pieces.*' Thefe menaces were inftantly re- 
 peated by the whole AlTembly ; Redin, however, 
 continued perfeclly tranquil. A troop of furious 
 peafants mounted tlie roftrum, while Redin ftood 
 by the fide of the Magillrate-s. It was at this time 
 r::in:ng. A young man, the gcd-fon of Redin, held 
 a pLiraphne over his head. One of the enraged mul- 
 titude with a blow of his flick broke the paraphtia 
 to pieces, exclaiming, " let the villain be uncover- 
 ed." Rage fwelied the hofom of the youth. ''Ah! 
 ah fiid he, " I did not know that my god-fath- 
 er had betrayed bis country ; but fmce it is fo, 
 bring me a cord this moment, that 1 may ftrangle 
 him.'' The Members of the Council formed a cir- 
 cle round the General, and entreated him with up- 
 lifted hands to think of his danger ; to confefs that 
 he had not pcrhapc cppofed the regulation v/ith 
 proper vehemence ; and to offer the facrifice of his; 
 whole fcriune as a reparation for the offence he had: 
 committed, ori condition that they would fpare his 
 life. Redin walked out of the circle with a grave 
 and tranquil air, and made the fign cf iilence with 
 (SYil 2) 
 
J-;& Tbe-^Infuiencd of Soikuri'. j 
 
 his band. Ihe v/hole AiTembly wiu'ed wi'h impji- 
 ticnce to hear the Geueral ccnfL-fs ; unci the >:,rcater 
 iiiuiiber of the memhers llutered him with ihe hcpes. 
 ci' p'u-don. My dear coiintrymer," laid the Gen- 
 ( rai, " you are nor. ignorant that I have fei ved tlje 
 King of France twc-and- forty y-ars. You know. 
 End many among ycu who were witli m.^ in t'iia 
 fervice can bear witnefs of i'S truth, how frequeut- 
 iy I have appeared in the face cf the enemy, and 
 the manner in which I have ccnducLd myielf in fev- 
 eral l)attles. I confidered every engageir.ent as the 
 lad day cf my Utb. But here 1 proteil, in the pre- 
 icnce of Ahnighty God, who knows all hearts, 
 v/ho hilens to my words, v/ho is to judge us all, 
 that I never appeared before the enemy with a ccn- 
 fcience fo tranquil, pure and innocent ; and am rea- 
 dy at this inftant to yield up n^y Rfe,^ if you thinlc 
 proper to condemn me for net cenfeiilng an inlidci- 
 ity of which I have n::t been gu'ky." 
 
 The dign'ty with wTach t' e Gener. i delivered 
 this declaration, and the rays cf truth which b:am- 
 ed upon his countenance, c^^lmed the fury of the 
 Ailembly, ar;d he was ikvcd. But Redii>-and his 
 wife ibon afierwards quitted th.e Canton. S;;e en- 
 tered into a reiigicus convent at IJii, and he retired 
 into a deep cavern ^mong the roci^s, where he lived 
 two years in Sontude. The fury of his conniry- 
 men/howevo, at length lu]:jided ; he retarnecl to 
 the Canton, and rewarded their i: gratitu ne by ^he 
 nio-'L f'gnai iervices. Every iu'/i^baial then rcrcea- 
 •ccLid the integrity and m::gaanimily of the Gene- 
 ra! ■ ; and to c:: r?iptnla:e the injuries and injuilice he 
 nad received^ ihcv elecled h'm B.iih, (;r hrd: officer 
 of the Canton : nay, what very rarely happen?, 
 ihev afterv/pj'ds e". cted hrm thr^e times iacodhvely 
 lathis impor'ant dignity. 
 
 Tais is the char^cteriilic difpefition of the pec- 
 r]2 who inhabit the Alps of Swiikrland ; alteraate- 
 :vi]bid and "ioknt j ibllo wing iia the extreme the 
 
7hc Influence (f Sc i/t i(..'c\ 1 9 9 
 
 ditl:ute8 of a bold and l-vely imagination. Their 
 pallioiis and ali'eftions experience the Tvime vicilli- 
 tudes as their dimnte. But I candidly acknow- 
 ledge, that I would ra'her live in Solitude amon^^ 
 the rocks of Uri, than be perpetual B?illi in the 
 Canton of Sch\vi:z. 
 
 Tr.e continual view of the fublime defarts of 
 the i\lps may pernaps contribute to render the Swifs 
 rudv? and unpoliihcd ; but, as in every hiriilar fixa- 
 tion, their hearts are improved in kindnefs and good 
 rature by the trar:qu"llity of their fields, and the 
 i'miling Ixauty of the fceoery by which they are 
 furrounded. 'The Englifh artifts a-c.knowledge', that 
 the face of nature in SwiHeiiand is too fublime and 
 too majef:ic for the pencil to render a iaitiiful re» 
 preu?Btation of it. But vvhat exquifite enjcyaisnts 
 mul^: they not experience upon thcfe romantic hills^ 
 to thcfe agreeable vaiiies, up:n the happy borders 
 cf thcfe 11:111 and traniparent f;kes Aa ! it is there 
 that nature may be clcfily examined : it is there 
 that (he appears in her higheft pomp and fplendcr. 
 If the viev/ of the oak, the elm, the dark firs which 
 p;opla thefe immenfe tor€fl:s, canvey no plealures ; 
 
 * How 1 bve to read In the Let'era upon Swii^erbnd by the pro- 
 fefTor Msineis* with wh-it amiable fer.ribUity that phi!ofoi>;>er Teated 
 isimfelf upon tlie banks of the Lake of Bi;';, and quietly rchgned him- 
 iVjfto all the cnioticns of his feu) 1 — "* \\ hen 1 am fatigued," fays M, 
 W?iners to one*)f his friends at Gottingen, and it pleales my fancy to 
 conndrr raore alccntively the feveral objedls which lurround me, 1 feat 
 myfelf upon the firft banFc, or the wall of a vine under v.h'ch people 
 continually Difs. 1 never indulg« this difpoiuion, without experien- 
 cing an iQexpreffibie tranv-iuillity. The laft time, it wsrs about fix 
 o'cioc!-:, while the fun was finking behind ths rid^e of Jura. The daik 
 green firs which grow almoft alone to a certain height on the moun- 
 tain ; the oaks of a brightep verduie which fucceed them ; the vines 
 ftili livelier in tlieir teints, in the middle of which ] v.as feated j and 
 a confiderab'e portion of the lake, which by that means appeared more 
 exceofive, was in the ihade, whiie the other part of the lake, the oppo- 
 f.te more, Biel .nd Nidaw, and the tops of the Glaciers, were flill 
 brightened by theiaft rays of the fun : 'selow, the bleating of the fiocks 
 tranmorted me in idea to the fmiiine plains of Arcadia ^ba^e, I 
 heard the humor" peafint?, and of hihermen whofe boats I could fcarce 
 difcover; with the aSeCting murnaur of the lake, gently i oiiing^ its 
 waves againft the. recks which orex-hang its bai-k../' 
 
200 The Inpiience of Solitude, 
 
 if the {:ght of thefe majeftic tre:s excites no pleafiii^ 
 emotivon in your mind, there Hill remain the myrtle 
 of Venus, the almond-tree, the jeffamine, the pome- 
 granate, and th-'ie eininencej covered v/ith luxuri- 
 ous viaes. Rcflee^, that in no country cf the globe 
 nature is more rich and variegated in her appear- 
 ances than in Svv'iflerland, and that it was the land- 
 fcape and the lake of Zurich, v/hich infpired the 
 Idyls of the imr;ior;al Geiher, the niofc agreeable of 
 all the poets cf nature. 
 
 Thefe fablime beauties raife and fire the heart ; 
 and operate upon the imagination in a much mora 
 lively manner than even more agreeable fcenes ; as 
 a fine niii:ht afF:rds a mere auguli: and folemn fpec- 
 tacle than the fined d-^y. 1^ coming from Frelcari, 
 by the fi Je of the fmali l ike of Nemi, which lies in 
 a deep valley i j inclofed b^y mountains and fcrefts 
 that the winds never agitate its quiet iurface^ it is 
 impoilible not io exclaim Vv^ii h the Englifn poet^ that 
 here— 
 
 ^lack melaaclioly fit?, and ronnd her throws 
 A der.th-i:ke fjence and a dread repofe ; 
 KergJoomy prefence I'addens ail the fcene. 
 Shades every riower, zv.'* darkens every green 
 Deepens the murmur of rhe falling Hoods, 
 And breathes a browner horror on the woods." 
 
 Pope's Eloifa to AL?Iard». 
 
 While the foul expands, and the mind becomes 
 ferene and free, you fuddenly difcover from the 
 ,'garden of the Capuchins near Albaao, the Uttle me- 
 lancholy i.;ke with all the mountains and forefcs 
 which furround it, the caflle of Gandolpho, with 
 Frefcati and all its rural villas on one fide ; on the 
 other, the handfome city of Alb? no, the village and 
 caflle of Riccia and Genfano, with their hills deck- 
 ed with vine-leaves ; bel:AV, the extetiiive plains of 
 Campani in the middle of which, Rome, formerly 
 the miitreis of the univerfe, raifes its majefdc head ; 
 and laftly, beyond ail thde obje^ls, the hills of 
 
The Influence of Solitude, 2oi 
 
 TivcU,'the Apemuncs, and the Mediterrar^ea-A fea.* 
 Thus the view fublime or beautiful objecls dif- 
 ferently alievfls the hevqr^ : the fubiiire excite fear 
 and terror ; the b??,ut!fiil create cniy foftand agree- 
 able {enfations : but both of them enlarge and ag- 
 grandize the fplwe of the iiniigjinadon, and enable 
 us more fatisf.-.dorily to feek cnj 3yii:euts withui 
 eurfelves. 
 
 To experience thefe pleafurcS, hov.'ever, it is 
 not ncCcffary to f-rek the folitiry retavments of 
 Swiilerland and Italy. There is no perlbn who 
 may not, by quietly traverfii:g the moimtains with 
 h:s gun, and without rui.nirig after p?etic iff ages, 
 like Kieid,! leara to ftel how inuch the great fcen^ 
 of nature will influence the heart, when ailiiled by 
 the powers of im?.ginaUon. llie l^r t of an agreea- 
 ble landicape, the various points of vie v which the 
 fpacious plains afford, the frefhnefs of the zephyrs, 
 the beauty of the fi^y, and the appetite which a long 
 chace procures, will give feelings of health, and 
 make every flep ieein too fhort. The privation of 
 every obiecl that can rec:iU the idea of dependence,. 
 accoTipanicd by domefli: comfort, healthful exer- 
 cife, and ufeful accupations, will add vigor to 
 thought, give warmth to imagination, prefent the 
 moil agreeable and fmiliiig images to the mind, and 
 inebriate the heart v/ith the mofl delicious fenfation?. 
 A, man with a fi'ie imiigination would be more hap- 
 py in a dark prifon, than without imagination amid 
 the moll ma^fuificent fee lery. But even to a mind 
 deprived of this happy faculty, the tranquillity of 
 rural life, and the views of harveli, will alone per- 
 
 * A German lady, who poilefies a very lively imagination, under- 
 took a voyage to Italy for the re-ertabliAment of her health. Her 
 flrength increifetl day after (iay. When fhe found herfeif on the Jch^ 
 of Albino above deici-'bed, (he endeavored to exprefs to her compan- 
 ions tivi emotions wh'ich the view of this fcene'had occafioned ; but 
 her feelings \yers fo exquifite that they deprived her of the pov.'er of 
 utterance, and ihe adually remained feveral days without being able 
 to fpe.ik. 
 
 t Mr. Klelft, a celebrated poet of Germany, diiiinguifhed by his 
 Poem upon S^i'.ii^. 
 
20 2 The Influence of So/if zide, 
 
 form miracles upon the heart. Who among xi3, 
 ahs ! has not experiericed, in the hours of languor 
 and difguli, the powerful eiiecls which vi view of 
 the enchanticg pleafures enjoyed by the village ruf- 
 tic is capable of aiiordiiig f Kow fondly the heart 
 partakes of all his joys i With what freedom, cor- 
 diality and kindnefs ' wc take him by the hand, 
 and liften to his plain, unlettered tales ! How fud- 
 denly do v/e feel our boibms iriterclled in every ob- 
 ject that iurrounds us ! How focn all tha fecret in- 
 clinations of our fouls are difplayed, refined, and 
 meliorated ! Rural fcei:^es have a variety of plea- 
 liares for thcie who, buried in thefmk of citieSjhave 
 fcarcely any k-io wledge of what pleafure is. 
 
 A French olMcer, on his return to his native 
 country after a long abience, exclaimed, It is on- 
 ly in rural life that a man can truly enjoy the trea- 
 fllr^•s of the heart, himfelf, his wife, his childrcnand 
 -his friends. The country has, in every refpe(fl:, the 
 greater advantage over 11:0 town, llieair is pure, 
 th3 profpe^ts fiiifiing, the walks pleafant, the living 
 comforla'^ie, the manners fiTiDie, and th.3 mind vir- 
 tuoUu. The pufiions unfold tneinlclves without in- 
 jury to any per;:vv Th^:' bof^ni, inipired by the 
 love of liberty, : r:":]: ciependent cn Heaven 
 alone. Avanr'oiv; rd.id . nre continually gratified 
 by the envied: grfts cf nature ; the warrior may 
 follow tre chace ; the vodjy' uary may cultivate the 
 rich fruits of the t-trth ; and die philolcpher indulge 
 his contemplation at e:de." — O ' how itrongly this 
 writer moves andi/iterefts myheartjWhen he tells me 
 by this anvciiog p nia£;e of his work — Hhould 
 prefer a reudence in my native f tl:- ^ to all others ; 
 not becauic they are more beainiiii], but becaule I 
 was brought up there. The ipot on v/liich we pafs 
 oarearlieii days pollclids a iljcret cnarm, an inex- 
 prcihble enchantment, lupcrlor to any ether enjoy- 
 ment the world ailords ; and the lois of which no 
 Other country can comp;nfaie ; ii:e foot where the 
 
The Influence cf SjHiiule, 203 
 
 gaiTi]:)oIs of my infant d?-3's were pl'iyed ; thofe hap- 
 py d^ys which paired withcut inquietude nnd cares. 
 The finding of a bird's nelt thi^n ■ fll-jd my bcfom 
 wirh the higheil jr.y. What dclig-.t have I felt 
 from the careff of a partridge, iu making a peck 
 at me, in feeling its li:tle heart beat agairifl; myhand 1 
 Happy he who returns to the place of Iiis firll at- 
 tachment ; that place where l:e fondly fixed his love 
 .on all around him ; v/here every obie»^l appeai^ed 
 amiable to his eyes ; the fertile Selds in which he 
 uled to run and exercife himlslf ; the orchards 
 which he ufei to pillage.''* 
 
 Thefe def ghtful fentiments engrave indelibly 
 on our hearis the remembrance of our infaiit refi- 
 dence in the country, of thofe happy times v/hich 
 we prdled v/ith fo much pleafure in the charming 
 Solitudes of our native country. Thus, at every 
 period of cur exifcenie, and in every place, the free- 
 dom and tranquillity^ of a country life will induce us 
 to exclaim with the liicred orator — " How happy 
 is the wife and virtuous man, v/ho knows how to 
 enjoy trauquiiiity with true dignity and p?rfc(51: eafe, 
 independent of everything around him ! How pref- 
 erable is the happy calm he there taftes to the deaf- 
 ening clamor, to tne f;ife joys and dazzling fplen- 
 dor of ihefarnionablewcrid ! What renned, noble, 
 generous fentimeats rife and unfold themfelves in 
 retirem.ent, which, during the din cf bufmefs and 
 the difFipatirns of pleaR-re, he concealed at the bot- 
 tom of the ibul, fearful of the contem.ptuous faeer 
 of wicked and unthiiiking minds." 
 
 O my beloved Zollikofcr,T I have felt in the 
 pleafures of a retired domeftic hfe ttie truth of thofe 
 dodiines y/nlch you announced to us at Leipfic ; 
 thofe ufefui dcflhnes which do not inculcate into 
 
 * To this pafiage, m the French tranfiatlonof this work, is A.ib- 
 joined the following note— -* Not knowing the traveller who is here 
 alluded to, webeaiiiis excufe tor having ventured to tranfiace it ifjto 
 French Trom the text in German." 
 
 t A. cslebia«cd preacher .ef Germant. 
 
204 ^'^-'^ IrJIiience of Solitude, 
 
 the mind a cold and fterile theology, but wife an. 
 virtuous precepts which warm und animate th 
 heart. I have ieen, as 3^ou defrribed, that in th 
 bovrers cf retirement a man of borineis may forge 
 his bickenngs and piiinful ; that if h 
 
 cannot banifh them from his e may drow 
 
 his cares in the bofom of j" i .^at his hear 
 
 v/ill dilate to charms ^ . ^ . n and hope 
 
 that his cnuntenaiice will br:g'it.n, and rll his pain 
 and difquietudes lulpfrnd ihe«r rage unfii he ha 
 j>;ained fufficievit flr-^igth to fi-pp'. Tt them, or pre 
 pare:^ proper reiredies to dnve them quite away, 
 I have obfcived the man of icarrtii:gin refirem.ent' 
 abandon the thread c f his h^borious refearehes, re-^ 
 treat from the librrinths cf f iiidy, and iind in tl^e 
 enjoy men!?, of innocence, and live noble fmphn-y of 
 his domeit ICS, more trutis and traoqihll'ty , raor.: ali- 
 ment for the heart aod infbrm^Moj;* for th^ mrid, 
 than in all the precepts of art and eri"!diti^ n. I have 
 obierved every one there to o^.tirhi Njc portion of 
 praifeand approbadon which hemtriis, ?.nd t' at he 
 obtains them from perfoos v/h^.jfe praife and appro- 
 haiion it is his utmofr. ambition to acquire. 1 have 
 ieen the uofortur.ate relieved, the wretched made 
 happy, the w^anderer put mXo hi ^ rigi't wi"^y ; I have 
 Teen, in fhort, every body thus fiud by degrees fat- 
 isfaclion and content. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, the crlm of rural life, nnd 
 the view of oature^s charms, inipirc-s v. ipecies of 
 ibft and traaquii m.eknchoiy. Ihe noify ple^'.fures 
 of the world hen appear infipid, and we ^afte the 
 charms of Solitude and repofe with increaf'd de- 
 ii^^ht. The happy ir.doleree peculiar to Italians, 
 •who. under the pie^dores of a de^r, unclouded fky, 
 are ?lways po r but i^e ; r^" i:->'l' r coEtributes 
 gready to inir:\:ye t'e ht-.r., loe rn^'JaeG: of their 
 climate, the lbrLi]Ky of vbeir lo;), their rehgious, 
 peaceful and con.ea-ed diipofidcnr- compenfate for 
 every tkieg. Dodlor Moore^ an Ei^ghih traveller. 
 
The Influence </ Sislhiuu^ ioj 
 
 CT whole works I extremely fond, lays, that 
 the Italians pre the greateft loungers in the world-; 
 and while walking in the fiekl?, ®r ftretched in the 
 liiade, feem to enjoy the I'ereriity and genial warmth 
 of their climate wnth a degree of luxurious indul- 
 gence peculiar to themfelves. Without ever run- 
 ning into the daring exceiles of the Englifn, or dif- 
 playing the frilky vivacity of the French, or the in- 
 vincible phlegm of the Germans, the Italicua popu- 
 lace dilcover a tpecies of fedate fstifibility to evei*y 
 fource of enjoy ment,.tTom whlchjperhapSjtheyderive 
 a greater degiee of happ'.nefs than anyof the others.'* 
 Under tliis pleafing privation of thole obje<fl:s 
 which aiHict and torment the heart, it is in truth 
 almcfi: impoffible for the mind to avoid an occalion- 
 al indulgence of agreeable chinieras and romantic 
 fentiments ; but, notwithfcanding all thefe dlfid van- 
 tages, this condition has its fair fide. Romantic 
 fptculatiors nray lead the mind into extravagant re- 
 fclutions and erroneous fyf terns, may frequently fo- 
 ment bale and contemptible paflions, habituate the 
 mind to a light and unfubltantial mode of thinking, 
 prevent it ftom exerting its faculties wath activity 
 and ardor to rational ends, and obfcure that prof- 
 peel: of happinefs which a life of fimplicity and ined- 
 eration prefents to our view. The foul alio may- 
 quit w^itli regret the ideal world on v%^hich it dwells 
 with fuch fond delight and perhaps thefe illulions 
 alfo may not only impede the difcharge of the ordi- 
 nary duties of life, but prevent the mind from taft- 
 ii^g any of its pleainres. It is certain, however, that 
 romantic ftntiments do not always render the mind 
 unhappy. V\/'ho, alas ! has ever realized the hap- 
 plrei? he has frequently been enabled to enjoy by 
 the pleafures of imagination ? . ^ 
 
 Rcuiieau, in his youth, w^as a great readci* 
 of rom.aQces ; and being foon hurried away by the 
 love of thofe imaginary objccls, with which' this 
 fpecies of reading and the fertility of his own imac- 
 (XVIil) 
 
2o6 The Itipuence of Solitude* \ 
 
 ination filled his mind, he difregarded every thing 
 by which he was furroiinded. This was the Ibiirce 
 of that tafte for Solitude which he prefer ved to the 
 moil advanced period of his Ufe ; a tafle in appear- 
 ance didated by melancholy and mifanthropy, but 
 which he attributed to the irrefiftible impuifes of an 
 heart too kind, too tender, too affectionate ; and 
 not being able elfev/here to gratify his feelings by 
 fentiments fufficiently warm and animated, he v/as 
 conftrained to Uve on fiction. 
 
 There are wanderings of the imagination which 
 may be indulged in SoUtude to gratify the feelings of 
 the heart,v/ithout doingany injury to our fentiments 
 or fenfations. In every fituaiion of my life I have 
 always found feme individual to whom myheart has 
 fondly attached irfelf. O, if my friends, whom I 
 have left in Swifierland, knew how frequently, dur- 
 ing the filence cf the night, I pafs with them thole 
 hours which fhould be lacred to deep ; if theyknev/, 
 that neither time nor abfence can efface from, my 
 mind the remembrance hew dear they have been 
 to me frommyearlieft youth to the prefent mom.eat ; 
 if they knew how fpeedily the left remembrance 
 diliipates my forrows^ and makes me forget misfor- 
 tune, they would perhaps rejoice to find that I ftill 
 live among ihera in imnghiation, aliiiough I may 
 be dead to them in reality. 
 
 O, let not a folitary man, whofe heart is want- 
 ed by fentiments noble and refined, ever be thought 
 unhappy 1 He, of v/hom the Hiipid vulgar frequent- 
 ly complain ; he, whom they conclude to be the vic- 
 tim of every melancholy idea, of every Ibmbrous 
 refle£lion,frequentlytafi:es of inexpreffitle pleafures. 
 The French conceived the good Rcuffeau ro be of 
 a gloomy difpclition. He certainly was not fo dur- 
 ing a great portion of his life ; he certainly was not 
 fo v;hen he wrote to M. de Malhet-be, the chancel- 
 lor's fon, " I cannot exprefs toycu. Sir, how much 
 I have been agisted ]>y perceiving that you efteera 
 
The Lifluence of Sclkuck. 207 
 
 me the mpfl uchappy of mankind. The publx will, 
 without doubt, judge of me as you do, and this is 
 the caufe of my alBicllon. O that the fate which 
 I have experienced were but known to the whole 
 univerfe !hat ever^^ man would endeavor to follow 
 my example : peace would tiien reign throughout 
 the world ; men would no longer dream of calum- 
 niating each other ; and there would no longer be 
 wicked men, when no one would fiadit their inter- 
 eft to be wicked. — But in what could I, in ihort» 
 find enjoyment wheal was alone ? — In myfelf, in 
 the whole uiiiverie, i-i every thing that does, in ev- 
 erything that cm ex:?: therein; in all that the eye 
 finds beautiful in tie real world, or the imaginadon 
 in the intcllecluaL I collected about me every 
 thing that is flattering to the heart ; my defires were 
 the rule of my ple^fures. No ! th^ raoft voluptu- 
 ous have never experienced equal delights ; and I 
 have always enjoyed my chimeras m.uch more than 
 if they had been 'realized." 
 
 'Fhere is undoubtedly an high degree of rhap- 
 fo:'y in thefe expreffions ; but O ye Ihupid vulgar^ 
 v.'ho would n3t prefer the v/arm Vvanderings of 
 RouITeau's mind to your cold underltaadings ? Who 
 would not voluntarily renounce your emptydifcour- 
 fe?, all your fehcities, urbanities, coify aileinblieSy 
 pafLimes and pnejadices ? vVho would not prefer a 
 quiet and conten;ed iifc^ in the bof m cf an happy 
 family ? Wno would not more willingly leek in the 
 iilence of the woods, upon the delightful borders of 
 ailill l ike, thor:^ plealures of liinple nature which 
 leave fo delightful an impreUion, thofe joys fo pure, 
 10 afl'ecf n^,To different from your own ? 
 
 Eclogues are fictions, but they are ficl ions of 
 the moft natural and agreeable kind, the pureft and 
 moft fublime defcrip'don? of rural haiMniaefs. If 
 you are inclined to taiie of real plcafares, you muii: 
 feck them in retirement, v/here the ibul feels itfclf. 
 altogether difsngaged from the lornients and opv 
 
2c 8 The Infiucnce of Solitude, ' 1 
 
 preffion of the world j where (he no longer feels ^ 
 tboie artificial wants which only contribute to ren- ' 
 der hfi^r more unhapp]^, whether fhe is capable of 
 gnilfyinfA them, or feeks hopelelslvro indulge them ; 
 where alone (he preferv:s her i-efineinent and fim- 
 plicity. The man who neither fees nor hears thole 
 things which may aitect the heart, who content with : 
 little is IcitiL^iled with all, breathr^s nothing but bve' 
 and innocence^ and perceives tr.e golden as;e of the 
 poets revived, of v/hich the vvorldiy-minded man ib ; 
 iinjuilly regrets ?helv~^(s. Serenity, love, and atafije 
 for the beaut: oof nature, were mA ;«dyantag^es pe- 
 culiar to toe vv'oocs of Arcadia : vvc may all iive in 
 Arcadia -if v; e pieafe. The feelings of the heart,the 
 re we derive from admiring a mea- 
 d.Qw covered with flowers, a cryltal fpring, and a 
 pleaf^mt (hade, afford univerfal enjoyment. 
 
 Pcpe afcribes the origin of poetry to ihe age 
 ihai iii^rnediately fucceedsd the creation. The foil 
 employment of mankind was the care of flocks, and 
 therefore the moll ancient ibrt of poetry was prob- 
 ably /;t7/?c7-^7/. It is natural to imagine that anciently 
 ihcph^rds mnft have endeavored to divert tke hap- 
 py Iciiurc cf iheir (blitary, icdentary lifs ; and in 
 inch f;^"' J :: ^"'hat diveriion could be miore agree- 
 able : .' And in their longs what couild 
 be !Ti..vi w . -:ian to celebrate Vitu own felicity? 
 Sii; h was p:(.o-b:^> in \:;e opinion of Pope, the or- 
 k^in o: pa/icraL ; titlcriptioni of the caimiitis and 
 tranq-'illluy v/ith v.'hich the life of a rhepherdwas 
 , Wd. ^nd defgned to cieate in our bofomsa 
 , L :.^d eucem f>)r the viitue^^ cf a rbrmer :^ge. 
 
 Goodiieis communicates itieli' by me?:^s of thcle 
 happy lirii' ns, ai-d vve bleis the poet, who la the 
 ecltacy ofhSi own felicity,endeavors to render oth- 
 ers as happy as b.imfclf. Sicily and Zurich have 
 produced two of tliefe benefactors to mankind. 
 The mind never beholds nattire under a more beau^ 
 Uful alpe^l, we never breathe a purer air, the heart 
 
7ke hjtuence of ^oUtuJc, tog' 
 
 never beats To tenderly, thebofom never feels mere 
 refined delight, than when we read the Idyls ol' 
 Theocritus and GeiTner ;* and it is my peculiar 
 gratitication, my dear Geflher, when I recall to 
 mind the plealares I have received in our corref- 
 pondence. 
 
 It is by thefe eafy and fimple modes that the 
 beauiies of nature operate upon the heart in aid of 
 theimagi lation, that rin-al life infpires the foul with 
 the mildeit fentiments, and that Solitude leads us to 
 h-ippinefs. The mind, indeed, drawn away by 
 thefe agreeable images, often refigns itfelf too eafily 
 to romantic ideas ; but they frequently give birth 
 to fancies which amend the heart without doing any 
 injary to the underftanding, while the happy fictions 
 and moic agreeable remembrances fpread their fiov/- 
 ers along the thorny paths of life. 
 
 The frequently feels no repofe, (the high- 
 eft happinels on earth) except in Sohtude ; but the 
 terra repofe does not always fignify lloth and indo- 
 lence. I he tranfition from that which is painful to 
 that which is plcafant,from the reftraints of bufinefs 
 to the freedom of philofophy, may alfo be called 
 repoi'e. It was from this idea that r. Scipio faid, 
 that he was never lefs idle than in the hours of lei- 
 fure, and never lefs alone than when alone. To 
 ftrong, energetic minds leifure and Solitude are not 
 
 _ ^ * Peihaps no wiiter throughout Europe has more judidoufly cr'i35r 
 icil'ed the Idyls of Geflner than the incomparable filair in the *' Lectures 
 on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres," where Kc fays, ''Of all the moderns 
 M. GeHher, a Poet of Swiilerlaiid, has been the moft lucccfsful in his 
 paftoral compofitioiM. He has introduced into his Idyls (as he entitles 
 them) wiany new ideas. His rural fceneiy is often ftriking, and his 
 defcriptions are lively. He prcfents paftoral life to us with all the em— 
 belliihments of which it is fufccptiblei but without any excefs of re- 
 finement. What forms the chief merit of this poet, is, that he writes 
 to the heart 5 and has enriched the fubjedt of his Jdyls with incidenta- 
 which give rife to much tender fentiment. Scenes of domeftic felicity, 
 are beautifully painted, Tiie mutual alYeftion of hufbands and wives, 
 ot parents and children^ of brothers and fifters, as wcli as of lovers, arc 
 Hifplaycd in a pleafing and touching manner. From not underftanding: 
 the language in which M. Gellher writes,! can be no jndg-er.-he poetry 
 of his ftyle : but, in the fubjeftand coniudof his paftoials, he apfCV^* 
 to ffic Whavs OUtdets ali the moderBs." 
 
 (:^vm 2)- 
 
:?.I0 The hiflacnce of SrJiitiae. 
 
 aftate of torpidity, but a new incentive to tb.r u<iht 
 and action ; and, when they rejoice that the happy 
 completion of one labor enables them immediately 
 to commence another, it is for the neart and not 
 foBthe mind that they alk repoie. 
 
 It is but too true, alas ! that he who feeks for 
 a fituaticn exempt from all inquietude Icllows a 
 chimtra. He wlio is inclined to enjoy life, mull not 
 afpire to repofeas an end, but only as a means of re- 
 aniraatiog his a61:lvity. He mufl therefore prefer 
 fuch employments as are bdi: fitted to the extent 
 and r-nure of his cj.pacity, and net thofe which 
 3:>romiie comperikticn and ei^jcyn'ieijr without pain 
 and labor, wh'cii le;n e one portion rf the facuides 
 inert, ileep the ienici in forgtd ulneis, and promiie 
 ineaiures and advantages v/n:cn require no exertion 
 to attiiin. 
 
 Repcie is not to be fouyd in nidolence, but by 
 !^aklng immediate advantage of the ilrft impiilie to 
 action. If the misfortunes of t hole v/elove always 
 ii':»ake la-. ?\nhappv ; if the grief of thofe wh:m we 
 •ibierve 'aider iiiiierings tears our hearts ; if the 
 icutv:; fe-..frig? of cumpaflion for the unfortunate 
 poilbn ail our pleat ures, eiiv elope tr-e appearances 
 of the worid in (hades of the darkeft me]anchc;iy, 
 .'v uder our exitreace painiui, ctir f xulties incapable 
 of exertion, and deprive us even of ability to prac- 
 file the virtues which we feel ; if tor m;:)nths and 
 V ears Vv^e vainly endeavor to deliver curlelves from 
 The mod cruel fuilerings, v."e mull ti:en :d"^iblutely 
 fly to SohtU'J.e. But O, rsay the Jl-auiy which ac- 
 .ompanies our retreat, be an Angel of \1rtue who, 
 iu our defcent to the \;ale of death, will conduct 
 ,:nd fupport us by her whdoiR in a noble and fub- 
 -aae tranquillity. 
 
 Amid the concaienaticn of p'^inons and mis- 
 fortunes of which 1 was the (pore and vidim, 1 knew 
 no hours more happy than thole in which I forgot 
 die >\-crf r'and was 'fcrgotten by it. Thol^ hours 
 
The Influence of Soliti'.Je, 2 1 1 
 
 I always found in the filcr.ce of the groves. All 
 that opprelled my heart in pnbhc life, all that m 
 the vortex of the' world only infpired me with dii- 
 guil, fear, or conllraint, then fled far away. I ad- 
 mired the filence cf furrounding nature,^^ and while 
 I enjoyed the fcene, ihe foi'ttft and naoi'i delicious 
 ft^ulations liHedmybreafl. 
 
 How often, in the inv?briety of pure and inef- 
 fable delight, have I, on the approach of ipring,^ ad- 
 mired the magnificent valley where the ruins cf the 
 refidence of Rodolpho de Haplburg rife upon the 
 lide of a hill crowded with wood, whole variegated 
 fUrgepreients all the hues v/hich ^ c^du re can pro- 
 duce ! There I beheld the Aar defcead in a torrent 
 from the lofty mountains, ibmetimes forming itfelf 
 into a vaiL bafon encloled by Iteep banks, lorn etimes 
 precipitating itfelf tnrcugh narrow pallages acrofs 
 the rocks, tr.en winding its courie quietly and ma- 
 jeilicaily through the midtile cf fmiling andjeriile 
 plains, w^hilft, on the ether fide of the RuHs, ahd 
 lower dov/n, the Limmat bring the tribute cf their 
 ilreams, and peaceably unite with the waters of the 
 , Aar. In the middle of this rich and verdant carpet 
 I beheld tha Royal Sontude where the remains of 
 the Emperor Albert thrFirii, repofe in filence with 
 thofe cf many princes of the Houfe cf Aullria, 
 ! Counts, Knights and - Gentlemen, killed by the 
 ! Swifs. At a diiiance I difcovered the long v;Llley 
 I where lie the ruins of the celebrated city of ^^indo- 
 niffa,* upon w^hich I have fo frequently fat and re- 
 
 I * Vindonlffa was a very laiije and well-fortified Rom:.ri village, 
 
 which lerved as a foi trefs to the Emperors againlt the irruptions of the 
 
 ■ Germans. Jn this place they continually kept a very nLmerous gar- 
 
 I rifon to overawe thofe dangerous nci^hboms,, who frcqr-entlj eftablifhed 
 themfelvcs on the borders of the Rhine, and pillaged the plains of the 
 Aar, notwithftaaijiiig the fortieires the Romans had trcdled on the; 
 banks of that river. The Emperor Conftantine Chlorus defeated the 
 Germans ia the year 297 between the Rhine and the Aar j but at the 
 beginning of the fourth century the Romans loft ail th^^ir power in that, 
 country, and Vindonifla was taken and deftroyed by tine Germans. 
 It appeals, indeed, that it was rebuilt j, for the Epitcopai Chair was, 
 
 [ ■ ^M^iu^ the reigns of the French Ejijpeiois, eftabJill^ied ia this city, but 
 
I 
 
 212 The Injlucnce of SolifuJe, 
 
 fiedled on the vanity of human greatnefs. Beyond 
 this magnificent country, ancient caftles raife their 
 lofty heads upon the hills, and the far diftant hori- 
 zon is terminated by the romantic and fublimefum- 
 mits of the Alps. In the midfl of all this grand 
 fcenery, my eyes were involuntarily call down into 
 the deep valley immediately below me, and contin- 
 ued fixed upon the little village where I firPc drew 
 my breath. I traced all the houfes, and every win- 
 dov; of the houfe which I had inhabited. When I 
 compared the feafations i then felt with thcfe which 
 I had before experienced, I exclaimed to myfelf, 
 Why, alas ! dees my foul thus contraft itfeir, 
 when iurrounded by fo many objedls capable of in- 
 fpiring the fublimefc fentiments ? Why does the fea- 
 fon, fo lively and ferene, appear to me fo turbulent 
 and difinal ? Why do I feel, on calling my eyes be- 
 low, i'o much uneafinefs and difgull, when but a 
 moment ago, on viewing thofe romantic obje6ls I 
 felt my he»c expand with tranquillity and love, par- 
 doned all the errors of mifguided judgment, and 
 forgot the injuries I have received ? Why is that 
 little knot of men who are alTembled under my feet 
 fo fretful' and difcordant ? Why is a virtuous cha- 
 racter ib horrid to their fight ? Why is he who gov- 
 erns fo imperious, he who is governed fo 'dhjtCt ? 
 Why is there in this place fo little liberty and cou- 
 rage ? Why are there fo few^ among them who k now 
 themfelves ? Why is one fo proud and haughty, ano- 
 ther fo mean and groveling ? Why, in ihort, among, 
 beings who are by nature equal, does pride and en- 
 vy fo egregioufly prevail, while they p'e-rceive the 
 natives of thefe groves perch without diftinclioa up- 
 on the higheft and the lowelt boughs, and unite 
 
 in confequcnce of beiag agala dedroyed, was, towards the year 579 rr- 
 moved to Conftantta, Jt was among the remains of this celebrated 
 city that Counts Windich and Altemberg dwelt in the tenth century. 
 Gfall this grandeur the ruins only are now to be feen ; below which» 
 Ecar the callles of Wlftdich aadAiteuiber^, ia the little village of Bi-ugf, 
 tvheie 1 was bom» 
 
The Influence of Solitude. 213 
 
 their fongs to celebrate the praifcs of the Cre?.tor V 
 Having tinifhed my fcliloquy, I defcended from the 
 mountain fatisiied and peaceable, made my ' moft 
 profound rever;^nces to INIcilieurs the Burgomsiiers, 
 extended my hand with cordiality to one of niy in- 
 feriors, and prt.ferved the happieii tranquiility, nn- 
 tiJ, by mixing with the w^orld, the fublime mcun- 
 lain, the fmiliiig valley and the friendly birds van-* 
 iflied fi-om my raind. 
 
 Thus rural Solitude dillipates all thofe ideas 
 which dirpleafe us in the ib^icty of men, changes 
 tile hiitcreil: feelings into the fweetefS: pleafures, and 
 iiifpires an ecilacy and content which the votaries 
 of the world can never experience. The tranquilli- 
 ty of nature filences every criminal inclinatioQ in 
 the corrupted lieaft ; renders us blithe, amiable, 
 open and confident j and ilrengthens onr fteps in the 
 patlis of virtue, provided we direct the pnTions to 
 their proper end, and that an overheated imagina- 
 
 on dees not fabricate fancied wees. 
 
 The attainment of all th.efe advantages is, with- 
 out doubt, a tafiv rather too difficult to perform in 
 the Solitude of cities. It appears eafy indeed to re- 
 dre to cur apartment, and raife our rainds by iilcnt 
 contemplation above the con(ideration of thofe ob- 
 je<fts by which we are furrrjunded. But few per- 
 fons erjoy fufHcient oppcr.Uiiities to do this ; for 
 within doors, a thoufand things may occur to inter- 
 rupt the courie uf our reilecTtions ; in the ftreets, and 
 in company, a thouiand crofs accidents may happen 
 to confound our vain wifdom ; and peevifli, painful 
 fenfations will foon aggravate the heart and v e'jikea 
 the mind, when not upheld by objects fuliicientiy 
 aii'ccting. 
 
 RoufTeau was ahvays extremely unhappy in 
 Paris.* This extraordinary genius, indeed, wrote 
 his immortal works while he reiided in the Metrop- 
 
 * I can truly fay, that all the time I lived at Paris, was only em- 
 plojed in leekij-'^ the Boeans of kein^ able to live out of ic> 
 
214 ^^'^ Infiuei^c of Solitude, ^ 
 
 ol^.s ; but the moment he quitted his houfe, his mind 
 was bewildered by a variety of cppofite fentimeots, 
 his )d€as abandoned him, and the brilliant writer, 
 the profound philofopher, he who was io intimately 
 acquainted with all the labyrinths of tiie human 
 heart, became alinofx a child. 
 
 In the country, we leave home with greater , 
 fafety, cheerfulnefs and i'atisfaftion. The iolitary I 
 man, if tired with meditating in his fuudy, has only I 
 to open his door and walk abroad ; tranquillity oFl 
 mind attends his freps, and pleafare prefents herfelf 
 to his view at every turn. He extends his hand 
 with cordiality to every man, for he ]oves and is 
 beloved bv every man he meets. Nothing ever oc- 
 curs to irritate his paflions ; he is under no dread 
 of experieocing the dird.iin of an imperious Ccunt- 
 efs or an h.uighty Baron, prcud of their titles : no 
 monied upfiart drives over him wiih his coach. 
 Frontlefs vice dares not venture on the protecfticn 
 cf mufty title-deeds, nor the power otf a weighty 
 f urfe to oiFer an ind'guity to modeii virtue. 
 
 But in Paris, as v/ell 7\s in every other city, a 
 man who v/ithdraws himfeif from the bu^ fcenes of 
 life will nevtr fe-l fucii fentiinents as thefe, while 
 he lives hi peace with his own hesrt, and his nerves 
 are net weakened or unltnmg : it is thefe (iefc6^3 
 that rcnJ ;r us thelbori: of me^'s unworthy paliion? ; 
 tor to a L Lin of weak nerves every cbjecl is irrita- 
 ting and difpleafme. 
 
 Our days, even under the languors of a v/eak 
 conftitutionj and furrounded by tiie mofi: unrrle;.- 
 fant objc^ls, pafs quietly av/ay in the moil active 
 f :eaes of life, provided we are at pe.ice v/ith our- 
 lelves. Our puihons are the gales, by the aid cf 
 which man ought to iieer his courie acrol s the ocean 
 cf hfe, for it is the pafiions alone which give mo- 
 tion to the foul ; but v/hcn they become impetuous^ 
 the veiTel is in danger, and runs a-ground. Pain 
 and grief fmd no eiiirance into thofe bofoms thar 
 
The Influence of Soiitudc, 2 1 5 
 
 ai-e free from remcrfc. The virtuous forgst the 
 pair, form no idle fpecub-tions on the future, and do 
 not refine av; ay their happinei?, by thinking thiit 
 what is good may ftiil be bettor. Every thing i^; 
 much better than we imagine. The aDxlous wiihes 
 of an ardtnt mind are feldcm. fatislied ; for with fuch 
 characters fruition is indeed frequently accompar<ied 
 with dif content. The Rream of content muft flow 
 from curfdves, taking its fource from a deliberate 
 difpofition to learn what is gccd, and a determined 
 relblution to feck for and enjoy ii, however fmall 
 the portion may be. 
 
 To acquire that happy rranquiility which mea 
 expect to find in Solitude, it is not fuffi-,ient to re- 
 gard every object that prefents itielf to their view 
 with fupinenefs or furprife. He w! o, v/ithout em* 
 plcyment, without having a plan of conduct previ- 
 oully digerled and arranged, hopes for happinefs in 
 Solitude, will find himfelf to yav/n at his cottage iu 
 the country jult as often as he did at his manfion ia 
 town, and would do much better to em.ploy himfelf 
 in hewing w» -od the whole day, than to loiter about 
 ia boots and fours. But he v/ho, living ia the moft 
 profound Solitude, keeps himfelf connnualb/ em- 
 ployed, will acquire, by means of labor, true tran- 
 quillity and happinefs. 
 
 Petrarch would have found this tnnquiliity in 
 his Solitude at Vauclufe, but that his heart lighed 
 fo incefiantly for his beloved Laura. He was, how- 
 ever, perfectly acquainted with the art of vanquifh- 
 ing himfelf. " I rife," faid he, " at midnight ; I go 
 out by break of day. I lludy in the fields, as well 
 as in my chamber, i read, 1 v/rite, I think, I en- 
 deavor to conquer the lealt difpofition to indolence, 
 and drive away fleep, effeminacy, and fenfuaUtyv 
 I traverfe. from morning till night, the barren moun- 
 tair.v, the humid vallies, and the deep caverns. I 
 walk, accempanied only by my cares, along the 
 banks of my river. I do not meet a man io feducc 
 
Tbj influence cf Zoliiude* I 
 
 rf-e from my path ; men daily become lels annoy Ing .1 
 TO ine ; for I place them either far before or much J 
 behind mc. I moralize cn the pall, and deliberated 
 on the furure. I have found an excellent expedient * 
 to induce a leparation from the world. 1 attach 
 myfelf to-the place of my r^fidence ; and I am per- 
 i triad ed that 1 could form that attachment in any 
 ]>lace except at Avignon. In my^ prelent refidence 
 at V^uclule, I find Athens, Rome or Florence, ac- 
 coniing as the maimers of the one or the other beft 
 pleaie the dlipolition of ray m.ind. Here I enjoy 
 all my friends, as well thofe with whom 1 have liv- 
 ed, as tliofe Vv'ho have entered the vale of death be- 
 fore me, and v/hom I only know bv their good 
 works// 
 
 When we are thus refolved, and fmd refources 
 I'lke thefe within our minds, SoHtude enables us to 
 accoinplilh whatever we pleafe. Petrarch, howev- 
 er, v/as not inclined to improve the opportunities 
 which Solitude afforded, becaufe he was in love ; 
 his heart therefore was a flranger to repofe; and 
 repofe is certainly, as Lavater has obferved, the 
 means of being ahvays happy, aod of doing every 
 thing v/elL 
 
 "Employment will produce coutent in the moit 
 frightful defarts. The Dairo of Japan banifhes the 
 grandees of the empire who incur his difpleafure in- 
 to the ifland of Fatlilio. The ftiores of this illand, 
 v/h:ch was fcimerly inhabited, are of a furprifmg 
 height. It has no haven, is entirely barren, and its 
 accefs fo diflicuit, that the exiles and their provifions 
 are ob%ed to be landed by means of cranes. The 
 fole employment- of thefe unhappy men in this mel- 
 L^,ncholy refidence, is to m.anufaifture filk fluffs and 
 gold tiffuc9, which are fo highly beautiful that they 
 are not fuffered to be purchafed by. fi rangers. 1 
 iionfefs that I fhould not like to fall under the al^- 
 pleafure of the Emperor of Japan but I neverthe- 
 lefs conceive, that there is more internal tranquillity 
 
The Influence cf Sclifude. 1 1 7 
 
 in the ifland of Fatfifio, thrxn ia the bofoms of the 
 Emperor and his whole court. 
 
 Every thing which conveys a fpark of comfort 
 to the ibul of man, ihould be anxloufly preferved ^ 
 but, without feeking to raife an eternal flame, it is 
 only neceffary to rake care that the laft fpark be not 
 extinguilhed. It is by this means that we acquire in 
 the country that quietude which flies the tumults of 
 the town, and thofe advantages of which the world- 
 ly-minded have no idea. 
 
 What epicure ever enjoyed fo much fatis fac- 
 tion in the midft of his fplendid entertainments, as 
 Roufleau experienced in his frugal repafl: ! I re- 
 turned flowiy home," fays he, " my mind in fome 
 degree fatigued, but with a contented heart. I ex- 
 perience, on my return, the moft agreeable reliefl, 
 in refigning myfelf to the impreflion of obje£ls, 
 without exercilmg my thoughts, indulging my ima- 
 gination, or doing any thing but feeling the peace 
 and happinefs of my flruation. I find my cloth rea- 
 dy fpread on my table on my lawn. I eat my fup- 
 per with appetite in the company of my little fami- 
 ly. No trace of fervitude or dependence interrupts 
 the love and kinduefs by which we are united : my 
 dog himfelf is my friend, and not my flave ; we 
 have always the fame inclinations ; but he has nev- 
 er obeyed me. My gaiety through the whole eve- 
 ning teflified that I' had lived alone all the day : I 
 was very diflferent when I had company ; I was fel- 
 dom contented with others, and never with myfelf ; 
 and at night (at eatii^ grumbling or fiient. ' This 
 remark is my houfe-Aeep-2r's ; and fmce fhe men- 
 tioned it to me, I have found it invariably true from 
 my own obfervations. At length, after having ta- 
 ken a. few turns in my garden, or fung fome air ta 
 the mufic of my fpinette, I experience upon my pil- 
 low a repofe both of body and mind a hundred times 
 more fweet than fleep itfelf." 
 
 Nature and a tranquil heart arc to the DivinU 
 (XIX) 
 
1 1 S The Iiifluence of Sc!iiudc\ 
 
 ty a more beautiful and maj^nificent temple than the 
 Church of St. Peter at Rome, or the cathedral of 
 St. Paul in London. The moft favage defart is fill- 
 ed with the immennty of the Almighty, and his pre- 
 tence fanftifies the Iblitary hill upon which a pure 
 and peaceful heart offers up its facrihce to him. 
 He reads the hearts of all his creatures ; he every 
 where hears the prayers of thoie whofe invocations 
 are fmcere. Whether we rife, or whether we de- 
 fcend, we do not find a grain of dull that is not fill- 
 ed with his fpirit. But there are no places which 
 Infpire ideas more religious than thofe happy fcites 
 which, uniting the mofl fublime and beautiful ap- 
 pearances of nature, ravifh the heart, and iraprefs 
 it with thofe voluptuous fenfations which excite in 
 %he mind the feniiments oflove, admiration and re- 
 pcfe. 
 
 I never racall to my memory without feeling 
 the fofteli emotions, the fublime and magnificent 
 fcene which I enjoyed in the year 1775, '^^hen, du- 
 ring a fine day, accompanied by my friend Lavater, 
 i afcended the terrace of the houfe he then inhabit- 
 ed, the houfe in which he was born and educated. 
 In wtotever direftion I turned my eyes, \^^hether 
 walking or fitting, I experienced nearly the fame 
 fenfation which Brydone defcribes himfelf to have 
 felt upon the top of iEtna.* I included in one view 
 the city of Zurich, the fmiling country which fur- 
 rounds it, its tranquil and expanded lake, and the 
 high mountains covered with frofi and fnow, lifting 
 their majeftic heads to Heaven. A divine tra.nquil- 
 lity furrounded me while I bdield this fcen^. 
 
 Upon this terrace I difcovered the myflay 
 which enabled Lavater, while he enjoyed ib deli- 
 cious a fenfation of his exiflence and his pow-ers, to 
 
 * Brydone fays, ** In proportion as we are raifed above the habi- 
 tations of men, all low and .vulgar fentinients are left behind j and 
 the foul, in approaching the sethetial regions, ftiakes oft" its earthly af- 
 ic4tiOfts, ^ud already contraClb fomething of their inyariable purity." 
 
Ihe Influeiice of Solitude, 1l<y 
 
 walk calmly through the ftreets of Zurich, expofed" 
 to the obie'rvations of the critics of that city, who" 
 were in the daily pradice of venting their abufe 
 againft him, and of whom he fo humbly allred par-- 
 don for the innocence of his life, Wfiich at leaft, ac=. 
 cording to the laws, they were unable to deftroy. 
 
 Up in this terrace 1 difcovered the caufe of his 
 ftill cherifhing with fuch uufeigoed tendernefs his 
 implacable enemies, thofe learned critics of Zurich, 
 whofe rage the found of his name was iafficient to 
 excite, who felt with the greateft repugnance eve- 
 ry thing that was praiie-worthy in his character, and 
 expofed with the higheil feelings of joy thofe foibles 
 and defects from which no man is entirely^free ; 
 who could not liften without fury when thofe me- 
 rits which he evidently poflelled were prai'ed, or the 
 demerits which they were unable to prove were ex- 
 teauated ; who rejecfled with averfion all the trutlis 
 which appeared to be in his favor, and eagerly lif- 
 tened, with an air of triumph, to ail the calumnies 
 which tended to his dilhonor ; who are humbled by- 
 his glory, as much as they can pofiibly be degraded 
 by their own infamy ; and who have the accom- 
 plifhment of his dilgrace as much at heart as their 
 own perfonal advantage ; in whofe breafls Lavater's 
 happinefs becomes a fource of miiery, and his mis- 
 fortunes a fountain of joy ; who affe<ft fuence on 
 the virtues they are conicious he poiTelTes, and loud- 
 ly aggravate defeats which they induftrioufly circu- 
 late by every polifble means, rather indeed to their 
 own injury, than to his difgrace, for by thefe means- 
 they frequently increale the glory which they feeb 
 to extinguifn ; who infiJiouuy defire the impartial 
 ftranger to fee the man, and judge for himfeif ; and 
 have aLnofl uniformly the mortification of perceiv- 
 ing that Lavater is found to polTefs a charac^ter dia^- 
 metrically oppofite to thu.t which the envenomicd 
 tongues and pens of his enemies at Zurich liave re- 
 prefented. 
 
22o 
 
 Th Inj!ucncc of Solitude* 
 
 At the village of Rich terfwy], a few leagues 
 from Zurich, ia a fuuation ttiil more delicious and 
 ierene than even that of Lavater, furrounded by 
 every obiecl the moft fmiling, beautiful ahd fubiime 
 that Swifierlaiid preients, dwells a celebrated phy- 
 fician. His foul is as tranquil and iublime as the 
 Icene of nature which furrounds him. His habita- 
 lion is the temple of health, friendfhip and every 
 peaceful virtue. The village is iiiuated on the bor- 
 ders of the Lake, at a place v/here two proje(^lting 
 points of land formi a natural bay of nearly half a 
 league. Oa the oppofite fliores, the Lake, which 
 is not quite a league in extent, is inclofed from the 
 north to the eaft by pleafant hills, covered with vine 
 leaves, intermixed with fertile meadows, orchards, 
 fields, groves and thickets, with little villages, church- 
 es, villas and cottages, fcattered up and down the 
 icene. 
 
 A wide and fnagnificent amphitheatre, which 
 r.o artift has yet ventured to paint except in del ach- 
 ed fcenes, opens itfelf from the caft to the fouth. 
 The view towards the higher part of the lake, which 
 on this fide 15 four leagues long, prefents to the eye 
 points of land, dillant iilands, the little tovv'u of 
 Rapperfwll built on the fide of a hill, the bridge of 
 w hich extends itfelf from one fide of the lake to the 
 other. Beyond the to^^ n, the inexhauflible valley 
 rifcs in a half-circle to the (ighr. Upon the firft 
 ground-plot is a peak of land, with hills about half 
 a league diftant from each other ; and behind thele 
 riie a range of mouatahis, covered with trees and 
 verdure, and iuterlperfed with villages and detach- 
 ed lioufes. In the back ground are difcovered the 
 fertile and majefiic Alps, twilted one among the 
 other^ and exhibiting alternate lhadows of the light- 
 cfi an^. darkei: azure. Behind thefe Alps, rocks, 
 covered with eternal fnows, rear their heads to the 
 clouds. Towards the foutn, the opening of the am- 
 phitheatre is continued by a new chain of mountains. 
 
The InfMence of Solitude * 
 
 2-2 % 
 
 A fcene thus enriched always appears new, roman-- 
 tic and incompai able. 
 
 The mountains extend ihemtelves from the 
 fouth to the weft : the village of Richteriw\ 1 is fit- 
 uated at their feet upon the banks of the lake : deep 
 forefts of firs cover the fummit, and the middle is 
 filled with fruit-trees, interiperied with rich fallows 
 and fertile pafcures, among which, at certain diftan- 
 ces, a few houfes are fcattered. The village itfelf 
 is neat, the flreets are paved, and the houfes, built 
 of lione, are painted on the out-fides. Around the 
 village are walks formed on the banks of the lake,, 
 or cut through fliady foreits to the hills ; and on 
 every fide fcenes, beautiful or fublime, ftrike the 
 eye while they ravifh the heart of the admiring trav- 
 eller. H« ftops, and contemplates with eager joy 
 thefe accumulated beauties ; his bofom fwells with 
 excefs of pleafure ; and his breath continues for a 
 time fufpended, as if fearful of interrupting the full- 
 iiefs of his delight. Every acre of this charming 
 country is in the highefl degree of cultivation and 
 •mprovement. No part of it is fuffered to lie un- 
 tilled ; every hand is at work ; and men, women, 
 and children, from infancy to age, are afi ufefully 
 employed. 
 
 The two houfes of the phyfician are each of 
 them furrounded by a garden ; and, although fitu- 
 ated in the middle of the village, are as rural and 
 lequeftered as if they had been built in the heart of 
 the country. I'hrough the gardens, and in view of 
 the chamber of my dear friend, flows a limpid ftream, 
 on the oppofite fide of which is the great road, 
 where, during a fucceflion of ages, a crowd of pil- 
 grims have almoft daily pafled in their way to the 
 convent of the Hennitage. From thefe houfes and 
 gardens, at about the diftance of a league, you be- 
 hold, towards the fouth,. the majeftic Ezeberg rear 
 its head ; black forefts conceal its top ; while be- 
 low, on the declivit of the hill, hangs a vilbge with 
 (XIX 2) 
 
^'2t The Influence of Solitude. 
 
 a beautiful church, on the fteeple of which the fun 
 fufpends its departing rays every evening before his 
 courfe is finifhed. In the front is the lake of Zu- 
 rich, whofe unruffled waters are fecured from the 
 violence of tempefls, and whofe tranfparent furface 
 refle6ls the beauties of its del'ghtfal banks. 
 
 During the filence of night, if you repair to the 
 chamber window, or indulge in a lonely walk 
 through the gardens, to tafte the refrelhing fcents 
 which exhale from the fidrrounding flowers, whib 
 the mooQ, riiing above the mountains, refledls on 
 liie expanfe of the lake a broad beam of light ; you 
 hear, during this awful lleep of nature, the found 
 of the village-clocks echoing from the oppoiite 
 'bores ; and on the Richterfwyl lide the fhrill proc- 
 lamations of the watchmen blended with the bark- 
 ings of the faithful dog. At a dittance you hear the 
 kittle boats foftly gliding down the ftream, dividing 
 the water with their oars ; you perceive them crofs 
 the moon's tranllucent beam, and play among the 
 fparkling waves. On viewing the lake of Geneva 
 ."iQ its full cxrenr, the m/ajefty of fuch a fubhme pic- 
 ture flrikes the ipectator dumb ; he thinks that he 
 has difcovered the chef d'ocuvre of creation ; but 
 'here, near the lake ot Zurich at Richterlwyl, the 
 objects, being upon a fmall fcale, are more foft, 
 agreeable and touching. 
 
 Riches and luxury are no where to be feen in 
 the habitation of this philanthropifl. You are there 
 feated upon matted .chairs. He writes upon tables 
 wrked from the wood of the country ; and he and 
 his friends eat on earthen plates. Neatnefs and 
 convenience reign throughout. Large colle<ftions 
 of drawings, paintings and engravings are his fole 
 expenfe. The firft beams of Aurora light the little 
 chamber where this philofophic fage lleeps in peace- 
 ■ ul repofe, and open his eyes to every new day. 
 Rifmg from his bed, he is faluted by the cooings of 
 
The Influence of Solitude* 222 
 
 he turtle-doves, and the morning fong of birds who 
 1.1 jep with him in an adjoining chamber. 
 
 The firit hour of the morning, and the laft at 
 ■light, are (acred to himielf ; but he devotes all the 
 ntermediate hours of the day to the alliibnce of a 
 iileafed and aliiic'ted multitude, who daily attend 
 :~iim for advice and afiiilance. The benevolent ex-^ 
 vcifeofhis profeliion engrolfes every moment of 
 : iis life, but it alfo conftitutes his happinefs and joy. 
 All the inhabitants of the mountains of Swilierland, 
 as well as of the valiies of the Alps, refort to his 
 ihoufe, and vainly feek for language to exprefs the 
 grateful feelings of their hearts. They are perfuad- 
 ed that the do£lor fees and knoM'S every thing ; 
 'they anfwer his queftions with franknels and iideli* 
 ty ; they iiilen to his words, treafure up his advice 
 like grains of gold, and leave him with more regret, 
 confolation, hope and virtuous refolutioo, than they 
 quit their confelfors at the Hermitage. After a day 
 fpent in this manner, can it be imagined that any 
 thing is wanting to complete the happinefs of this 
 friend of mankind ? Yes ; when a fimple and ingen- 
 uous female, who had trembled with fear for the 
 fafety of her beloved hufband, enters his chamber, 
 and, feizing him fondly by the hand, exclaims— 
 I" My huiband, Sir, was very ill when I firft came 
 to you ; but in the fpace of two days he quite re- 
 covered. O5 my dear Sir, I am under the greatell: 
 obligations to you 1" this^ philanthropic charafter 
 feels that which ought to fill the bofom of a mon« 
 : arch in the moment when he confers happinefs 011 
 his people. 
 
 Of this defcription is the country of Swiffer- 
 land where Doclor Hotze, the ablell phyfician of 
 tlie prefent age, refides ; a phyfician and philofo- 
 pher, whofe pervading genius, profound judgment, 
 and great experience, have placed him with Tiffot 
 Hixzel, the deareft friends of my he?.rt. It is in 
 this manner he paffes the hours ^ his hfe j all uni« 
 
224 Influence of Mitude, , 1 
 
 form, and all of them happy : he referves, indeed,1 
 only two hours of each day to himfelF, and devotes: 
 the reft to the relief of the unfortunate who daily ' 
 vifit him in this celeftial region. His mind, active 
 and full of vigor, never feeks repofe ; but there is a | 
 divine quietude dwells within his heart. Alas!|| 
 there are no fuch characters to be found at court. ' 
 Individuals, however, of every defcription, have it 
 in their power to tafte an equal degree of happinefs, 
 although they may not h-^ve the opportmiity of refi- 
 diT!:g ?.mid Icenes lo delightful as thofe which the lit- 
 uation of my beloved Hotze at Richteriwyljthe Con- 
 vent of Capuchins near Albano, or the manfion of 
 my fcvereign at Windfor, affords. 
 
 The man who does not aflk for more ecjoy- 
 ments than he polfelTes. is completely happy. Such 
 a feikity is eaiily found at Richterfwyl, upon the 
 banks of the Lake of Zurich ; but it may be alfo 
 more eafiky found than is in general imagined, even * 
 in iuch a chamber as that in which I am now wri- 
 ting this Treatife upon Solitude, where, during fev- 
 en years, I had nothing to look at but Ibme broken 
 tiles, and a vane upon the fpire of an old church. 
 
 Content muft always derive its Iburce from the 
 heart ; and in Solitude the bofom dilates more ea- 
 fily to receive it, with all the virtues by which it is 
 accompanied. How good, how affeftionate does 
 the heart become on the border of a clear fpring, or 
 in the eDjoyment of a calm repofe under the lhades 
 of a branching pine ! In Solitude the tranquilHty of 
 nature glides into the heart ; but in fociety we find 
 much more occafion to fly from ourfelves than from 
 others. 1 c be at peace with ourfelves, we muft be. 
 in concord with all mankind. While the heart ii 
 tranqu-il, the mind conliders men and things in the^ 
 moft favorable and pleafmg point of view. In rural 
 retirements, where it is open only to agreeable fen- 
 iations, we learn to love our fellow-creatures. Wr.ile 
 all nature fmiles around us^ and our fouls overflow I 
 
 i 
 
The Inf twice of Solitude, 72^ 
 
 with benevolence, we wifb for more hearts than one 
 to piirticipate in our happinels. 
 
 By inild and peaceful dirpofitions, therefore, 
 the feli'cliies of domefiic life are relifhed in a much 
 higher degree in rural retirement, than in any other 
 fituation whatever. The moft iplendid courts in 
 Europe allbrd no joys equal totheie; and their vain 
 pleafures can never ailuage the juitifiable grief of 
 him who, ocntrary to his inclination, feels himfelf 
 torn from fach a felicity, dragged into the palaces of 
 kings, and obliged to conform to the frivolous life 
 pra?f:fed there, where people do nothing but game 
 and yawn, and am.ong whom the reciprocal com.- 
 munication of languors, hatred, envy, ilattery and 
 caiamny alone prevail.* 
 
 It is in rural hfe alone that true pleafures, the 
 love, the honor, and the chafce manners of ancient 
 days are revived. RoufTeau, therefore, fays with 
 great truth to the inhabitants of cities, that the 
 country affords pleafures which they do not evea 
 fufpeft ; that ihefe pleafures are lefs inll^id, lefs un- 
 polifhed than they conceive ; that tafte, variety and 
 delicacy may be eojoyed there; that a m.an of me- 
 rir, who retires witii his family into the country, 
 and turns farmer, w ill find his days pais as pleafant- 
 ly as in the moll brilliant allemblies ; that a good 
 houfe-wife in the country may ^lib be a charmiog 
 woman, a woman adorned witii every agreeable 
 qualification, and polTefs graces much more captiva- 
 ting than all thole prim and ailecSted female^ v/hom 
 we fee in towns. 
 
 The mind under refrefhing fhades, in agreea- 
 ble vallies, and delightful retreats, forgets all the un- 
 pleafant circumftances it encountered in tile world. 
 
 * Madame de Mair.ienon wrote from Marii to Madame de Cay- 
 lus— '* We p.tlsour lives here in a very rint:alar manner. Wit, gal- 
 lantry and cheer Jivlnefs lliould prevail; but of all chele qualities w <* 
 aie totally deititute : we gaoic, yawn, fatigue ourfelves j reciprocally 
 receive and communicac^; vexatioas j hate, envy, carets, and calunini- 
 ate each other." 
 
226 
 
 The Infiucnce of Solitude' 
 
 The moP: ^M-ofiigate and wicked characters are no 
 longer remem leered in fociety, when they are no 
 longer jeen. It is only in the' tumultuous fcenes of^ 
 civil life, and under the heavy yoke of fubordina- 
 tion, that the continual ihock of reaion and good 
 (enie, againlt the liupidity of thole who govern, 
 (breads a torrent of miftrics over human life. Fools 
 in power render the lives of their inferiors bitter, 
 poilbn their pleafures, overturn all focial order, 
 ipn ad thorns in "the path of thofe who have more 
 underitanding than ihemfelves, and make this world 
 a vale of diicouragement, indignation and tears. 
 O ! that men of honor at court, brave and ilvilful 
 generals, able agents, fnould have a right to ex- 
 claim with the phibrcpher — Had i but the wings 
 of a dove, that I might fly where my inclination 
 leads me, and fix my dweiiing as chance might di- 
 re6i^5 I would take a diflant night, and continue in 
 the defart I I would haften to eicape from the tern- 
 pefi for I perceive hypocriiy, malice, falfehood 
 and difeafe prevail at court, in the armv, and in the 
 city." 
 
 Stupidity, when it has gained credit and author- 
 ity, becomes more dangerous and hurtful thaE any 
 ether quality ; it always inclines to render every 
 thing as little as itfelf, gives to every thing a falfe 
 name, and miflakes every chara'5rer for the oppofite 
 to what it really it, ; in a word, ftripidity always calls 
 white black, and black white. IvTen of frank, hon- 
 eft, liberal difpofitions, therefore, if they would ef- 
 cape from his perfecution, muft learn ail hi^s tricks 
 and all his turnings, as well as the fox of Saadi, the 
 Indian fabulifl. 
 
 A perfoQone dayobferving a fox running with 
 great fpeed tov/ards his hole, called out to him^ — 
 Reynard, where are you running in fo great a 
 hurry ? Have you done any mifchief tor which you- 
 are fearful of being puniilied " No, Sir," re- 
 plied the fox, my confcience is dxu^ and does not 
 
The Influence of Solitude, 227 
 
 n-oach me with any thing ; but I have jufl ovcr- 
 /.eurd the hunters wiih that they h?A a camel to 
 hunt this morning."—" Well, but^how does that 
 concern you ? "You are not a camel." — O ! Sir," 
 replied the fox, fagacious heads cJways have en- 
 emies. If any one fnouid point me out to tlie huntf- 
 jnen, and lay, There runs & camel, thofe geutlenien 
 would immediately feize me, and load me vAth 
 chains, without once inquiring;? whether I was in 
 fac^ the kind of animal the informer had defcribed 
 me to be.'*"* _ 
 
 Reynard was perfectly right in his obfervation : 
 but it is' lamentable that men ihould be wicked in 
 proportion as they are iiupid, or thai they fuould 
 be wicked only becaufe they are envious. If I 
 Ihould ever become the object of their v/rath, be- 
 caui'e tliey conceived that I enjoyed more happinefs 
 than themieives, and it were impoflible for me to 
 efcape from their perfecutions, I would only revenge 
 myfelf by letting ihem perceive that no man living 
 is to me an objed of fcandal. 
 
 Nothi'jg can wound the felf-love of that breaft 
 which feels no defire for more than it pofleffes. The 
 calm temper which refalts from a life fir i^e, regu- 
 lar and ferene, guards the heart agai^/?che excefs 
 of defire. By living in coiitiuual c^'-^munion with 
 ourielves, we unavoidably perceir'hQW/; deficient 
 we are in many of thofe qualiiicatioiis whiq^pin the 
 opinion of others, v/e are fuppofed to poflefs-i^n the 
 advantages we gain, as well as all the happidefe we 
 feel, appear in confequence to b;- the eiis6l of favcrs 
 conferred on us. This reafon alone renders it im- 
 polTible that we fliould repine at the happinefs of 
 another ; for candor will force a man who lives con- 
 tinually by himfelf, and acls with fmcerity of heart, 
 to reflecl r^pon his own defeats, and to do juftic^ to 
 the fuperior merit of other men. 
 
 " I fhould wifh 10 end my days in the delight- 
 ful Solitudes of Laufanne/' fay^ a French hiiloriaa 
 
S 2 3 TJje Influence cf Solitude. I 
 
 cf that province, " far retired from the tumnltnousi 
 fcenes of thewcrki, from avarice, and from deceit J 
 ill thofe Solitudes, where a tboufand irnocent plea-'' 
 lures are enjoyed and renewed without end : there 
 we efcape from profligate difcourfe, from unmean-^ 
 ing chstter, from envy, detr?.ciion and jealoufyJ 
 Upon thofe fmiling plains, the extent of which Xhm 
 aftonifhed eye is incapable of meafuring, it is impoCil 
 fible to fee, without admiring the goodnefs of the 
 Divine Creator, lb many different animals wander- 
 ing peaceably aT;ong each other ; fo many birds 
 making the woods re-echo to their fongs ; fo many 
 wonders of nature, which invite the mind to filent 
 contemplation." 
 
 It appears to me, that to whatever place in 
 Germany you turn your eyes, you find in every 
 peaceful family, as in the Solitudes of Laufanne, 
 more pure and genuiue pleafures than are ever feen ' 
 in fafhionable life. The induftrious citizen who re- 
 turns in the evening to his wiie and children, after 
 having honorably performed the labors of the day, 
 is without doubt as contented as any courtier. If 
 the voice of the public and his fellow-citizens do not ; 
 render to a man of bufmefs the juftice, efteem and ; 
 honor, whidi his character merits ; if his zeal and \ 
 good vvorks meet v/ith negleft, and are treated with i 
 ingratitudj^add rontempt ; his mind will foon for- , 
 get the^fljtinice, when he returns to the bofom of j 
 his happy familv, fees their arms open ready to re- ' 
 ceive • him, and obtains from them the praife and \ 
 approbadon which he truly merits. "With what de- 1 
 light his heart feels the value of their fondnefs and I 
 aneftion ! If the eclat of fafhionable life, the fplen- 
 dor of courts, the triumph of pov/er and grandeur, 
 have left his bofom coii and comfcrtlefs ; if the 
 bafe practices of fraud, falfehood, hypotrlfy, and 
 puerile vanities, have irritated and foured his mind r, 
 be no fooner mixes in the circle of thofe whom h - 
 cherilhes, than a genial vv'armth re-animates his ^^^^ 
 
71)e Influence Gf Solititch. t2tJ 
 
 je<fi:ad heart, the tendereH: fentiments infpire his 
 ibul with courage, and the truth, freedom, probity 
 and innocence by which he is furrounded, recon- 
 cile him to the lot of humanity. If, on the contra- 
 ry, he fhould enjoy a more brilliant lituation, he 
 I the favorite of a min^fter, the companion of the 
 : great, loved by the women, and admired in every 
 public place as the leader of the fafnicn ; fhould his 
 itation be high, and his fortunes rich, but his dwel- 
 ling prove the feat of difcord and jealoufy, and the 
 bufom of his family a flranger to that peace which 
 the wife and virtuous tafte under a rcof of thatch, 
 would all the dazzling pleafares cojnpenfate for this 
 irxcpr.rable iofs ? 
 
 Thefe are my fentiments cn the advantages 
 which Solitude pofTeffes to reconcile us to the lot of 
 humanity and the practices of the world ; but I 
 fhall here only cite the words of another ; the words 
 of a Doftor of Divinity of the fame tenets with 
 myfelf ; a judicious theologian, v/ho dees not incul- 
 cate imperious declines, or propagate a religion 
 which offends the heart. They are the words of 
 his Sermon upon Domeflic Happinefs, of that in- 
 comparable difcourfe which men of every defcrip- 
 tion ought to read, as well as all other fermons of 
 Zollikofer. 
 
 " Sohtude," fays this divine, " fecures us fi'cm 
 the afprrlions of light and frivolous minds, from the 
 upjuft contempt and and harfh judgment of the en- 
 vious ; preferves us from the afflicting fpe6lacle of 
 follies, crimes and mifery, which fo frequently dil- 
 graces the theatre of L^L^tive and focial life ; extin- 
 guifhes the fire of thofe pafTions which are too Uvelv 
 and ardent ; and eft^/bliilies peace in our hearts.'' 
 
 Thefe are the fentim^ents of my beloved Zolli- 
 kofer ; the trutQ of which I have experienced. 
 When my enemies conceived that accidents, how- 
 ever trifling, would trouble my repcfe ; when I was 
 iold with what fatisfa^lion the Coteries w^oiUd hear 
 ' (XX) 
 
i|0 7he Influence of Solitude^ 
 
 of my didrefs, that ks bcUcs darjics would leap for 
 joy, and form a clufter round the man who detailed 
 the injuries I had received, and thofe which were 
 yet in itore for me, I {'aid to myi'elf, " Although 1 
 my enemies have fworn to aiiii^l me with a thou- I 
 fand deaths, what harm can they really do me ? I 
 What can epigrams and pleafantries prove ? What I 
 fling do thofe ratirical engravings carry, which they I 
 have taken the pains to circulate through every part M 
 ■of Swiflerland and Germ.any ?" \ 
 
 Th.e thorns over which the fteady foot walks 
 unhurt, or kicks from beneath it wi^h contempt, in- 
 fli^L wounds and ulcers only upon effeminate minds, 
 who feel that as a feri:us injury which others think 
 noticing of. Characters of this defcriptiou require 
 to be treated like the flowers of young plants, with 
 delicacy and attention, and cannot bear the touch of 
 rude and violent hands. But he who has exercifed 
 his powers in the greatefi dangers, and has combat- 
 ed with adverfity, who fe^ls his foul fuperior to the 
 falfe opinions and prejudices of the world, neither 
 iecs nor feels the blow ; he refigns trifles to the nar- 
 rov/ minds which they occupy, and looks down with 
 courage and c :ntempt tipon the vain boaltings of 
 fuch miferable inlets. 
 
 To forget the fury of our enemies, the aflifl:- 
 ance of foft zephyrs, clear fpring^, well-stored riv- 
 ers, thick fcreils, refrefhing grottos, verdant banks, 
 or fields aiorned with flov/ers, is not alv/ays necef- 
 :fary. O how fcon, in the tranquiUity of retire- 
 men*', every antipathy is obliterated ! All the little 
 crcfTes of liie, all the obloquies, every iajuilice, ev- 
 ery low and trilling care vaniih like fmcke before 
 him who has courage to live according to his own 
 taHie and inchnation. That which we do volunta- 
 rily is alv/ays more agreeable than th'it which we 
 do by compurnoD. The reilramts of the world, 
 and the flavery of fociety, alone can poifon the plea- 
 lures of free minds, deprive them cf every fa^isfao 
 
The Influence of Mitude* l^j 
 
 lion, content and pDwer, even when phcediua 
 fphere of elegance, eafy in fortune, and lurroundeil 
 by abundance. 
 
 Solitude, therefore, not only brings- quietude 
 to the heart, renders it kind and virtuous, andrai- 
 I fes it above the malevolence of envy, wickednels 
 I and ftupidity, but affords advantages fcill more val- 
 uable. Liberty, true liberty, is no where fo eafily 
 found as in a diftant retirement from the tumults of 
 men and every forced conueclion with the world. 
 It has been truly laid, that in Solitude Man recov- 
 ers from that diftra(fi:ion which had torn him froin 
 himlelf ; that he feels in his mind a clear and inti-r 
 mate knowledge of what he is, and of what he had 
 been ; that he lives more withia himfelt and for 
 himfelf than in external objeds ; that he enters into 
 the ftate of nature and freedom ; no longer play? 
 an artificial part, no longer repref°nts a different 
 perfonage, but thinks, fpeaks and a<!l:s according to 
 his proper chara(Si:er and fentiments ; that he difcov- 
 ers the whole extent of his nature, and does not ad' 
 beyond it ; that he no longer dr. aSs a fevere maimer, 
 an imperious tyrant ; that he ridicules no one, and 
 is himftlf proof agaii.ff the (h-^-f s of calumny ; that 
 neither the conffraints cf bufm< is nor the ceremo- 
 nies of falhion diiquiet his mind ; but, breaking 
 through the ffi?xkle3 of fcrvile haiDit and arbitrary 
 cuffom, he thinks with confidence and courage, and 
 the inleniibihties of his heart refjgn themfelves to 
 the fentiments of his mind. 
 
 Madame de Staal^ cor.fidered it as a great and 
 vulgar errcr to fuppofe that freedom and liberty 
 could be enjoyed at court ; where, even in the iLofc 
 minute adions cf our lives, we are obliged to ob- 
 it^rve fo many different things ; where it is impoOi- 
 ble to think al®ud ; where our fentiments mriil be 
 regulated by the circumliances of thci'e around us ; 
 u here every perfon we approach leems to poffefs 
 the right of fcrutinizing cur characters ; and whae 
 
7he Influence Solitii^, 
 
 we nev^r Mve the fm?.lleft enjoyment of ourfelves. 
 " The enjoyment of one's ftlf/' fays fhe, " can on- 
 ly^ be found in Solitude. It was withia the v/alls 
 of the B?itile that 1 Mt became acquainted with 
 
 Men o'iiberal miads a.re as ill qualified by na- 
 ture to be chamberlains, and at the head of the et- 
 iquette of a court,^ as wcnien are to be rcUgieufes, 
 The courtier is fearful of every thing he ftes, is al- 
 ^vays upon the watch, incefiantly tormented by an 
 everlafting fufp'cioii ; yet, noiwitiidanding ail this, 
 he muii preierve the face of lerenity and fatisfac- 
 rion ; and, l.ke the C/ld Vv'oman, he always lights one 
 taper to Michad the Archangel, ani another to the 
 iJwvilj becauie he does ne t know for which of them 
 he may have the moil occrfioc. 
 
 Such precautions and conftraints are infupport- 
 able to every man wiio is not form.ed by nature for 
 a ccurder. In fituatiocs, therefore, lets conneded 
 with the world, men of hberal minds, found undcr- 
 itandings, and active dirp,:fiLions, break all the chains 
 by which they are withheld. To find any pleafure 
 in the fumes of fafliion, it is necelTary to haveh-een 
 trs/med up In the habits of a court. The defe6i of 
 judgment which reigns in courts, without doubt, 
 magnifies the mofl: trifling details into matters of 
 high importance : and the long conflraint which the 
 foul there endure?, makes many things appear eafy 
 to a ccurtier, w^hich, for want of habit, would carry 
 torment to the bofom of another. Who has not 
 experienced v/hat it is to be forced to remain fixed 
 upon one's chair, and to talk an wh' )le evening, even 
 in common lociety, withcut knowing on v/hat iiib- 
 jeft to converfe, and of courie v/i'hout being able 
 to fay any thing ? Who hr:s not orcidh^i ally found 
 himfelf in company with thofe who wdiiingly liften 
 to fenfible converfation, but never contribute a fin- 
 ale idea to the promotion of it themfelves ? Who 
 has not feeu his thoughts fall upon a miad fo bar- 
 
Tlje Injlisrnct of Solitude. 2Tf j 
 
 ren, that they produce no return ; and Aide tiirough 
 the ears of h'is auditors like water cpon oil-cloih? 
 
 How many men of contemplative minds are 
 the {laves of fools and madmen \ How many ration- 
 al beings pafs their lives in bondage, by being un- 
 fortunately attached to a worthlefs fa<^lion ! How 
 many men of excellent underllandings are condemn- 
 ed to perforin a pitiful part in many provincial 
 towns i The company of a man who laughs at eve- 
 ry thing that is honorable, and rejects thofe ienti- 
 ments which kad to love and elleem, foon becomes 
 infupportable. There are no worfe tyrants thaa 
 the prejudices of mankind, and the fervitude of lib- 
 eral minds becomes more weighty in proportion to 
 the public ignorance. To form a ferious thought 
 of pleafmg in public life, is vain ; for to fucceed in 
 fuch an endeavor, we muft facrifice all thought, 
 give up every real fentiment of the fcul, defpife ev- 
 ery thing that a man of under ftanding and good 
 fenfe defpifes, or elfe, by blindly dafliing forv/ard 
 upon ailoccauons, hazard content, tranquilUty, and 
 fortune. 
 
 ^ A rural refidence, cr a tranquil and domeftlc 
 life in town, will fecure us from thefe conftraints, 
 and is the only means of rendering us free and in- 
 depeadent of taofe fituations which are iioftile to the 
 mmd and repugnant to good fenfe. But if Solitude 
 c light to be free from conftraint, we muft neither 
 ~ -take the habit of monarehifm, nor, like the Doge of 
 . .yeuice, wear the diadem of fovereignty. This ab- 
 je6t 11 we cannot vifit a friend, nor receive a foreign 
 ambalTador, without a^ ipecial permiflion from the 
 Senate for the purpofe. He is indeed fo wretched,^ 
 that every one is compelled to acknowledge that 
 Solitude and dependence are the higheft preroga- 
 tives of his crown. 
 
 The foul, when neither clogged, nor withheld,, 
 nor tormented by furrounding obje^s, becomes fen- 
 fibiCj, in. Solitude, of its powers, and attains a clear 
 (,XX 2): 
 
2^^4 The Influence cf Mtude. 
 
 r.nd intimate knowledge of its prefent flate, and of 
 "what jt is able to perform. Liberty and leifure, 
 therefore, always render a rational ard a^live mind 
 indifferept to every other kind of happinefs. 
 
 Sohtuda and the love of liberty rendered all 
 the pleafures of the world odious to the mind of 
 Petn^.rch. In his old age h.e was fclicited to oiHciate 
 as Secretary to different Popes, at whatever ialary 
 he thought proper to nx ; ?.nd ^r^deed every induce- 
 iTient that emolument could afford, was infidioufly 
 made ufe of to turn his views that way. But Pe- 
 trarch replied, " Riches acq\iired at the expenceof 
 liberry are the cauie of real mifery : a yoke made 
 of gold or fiiver, is not lei's GppreiTive than if made 
 of wood or lead." He repreiented to his patrons 
 and fritnds, that he could not perfuade himfelf to 
 give up his hbcrty and his leifure, becaufe, in his 
 cpinion, the wwld aiforded no wtalth of equal val- 
 ue ; - that he could not renounce the pleaiures of 
 f:ien:e ; that he had defpifed riches at a time when 
 he was racft in need of them, and it would be fiiame- 
 ful to feek them .nov/, when it was more eafy fcr 
 him to do without them : that he fhould appcrnou 
 the prcvifion fcr his journey according to the dif- 
 tanc:; he had to travd ; and that having almr.fl \\\?.cY^^ 
 ed the end of his cjurfe, he ought to think more of 
 his reception at the 1211 than of his expences onihs 
 road. 
 
 A dift?fle of the manners of a court led Pe- 
 trarch hito Solitude when he was only three-and- 
 twenty years of age, although in his outward ap- 
 nearance, iu his attention to drefs, and even in hi^ 
 coniVitution, he p.-ffdled every thing that could be 
 expected from a c^ ;mplete courtier, lie was in ev- 
 ery relpe^L formed to pleafe : the beauty of his fig- 
 ure caufed people to itop ip the ftreer, and point 
 hnn out as he walked aionir. His eyes were bright, 
 and full of fire ; and his lively countenance pro- 
 daimed ths- vivacity of his miud. 'ilie frjefheft cd- 
 
The Injluence of Solkudc, 
 
 ^3^ 
 
 or adorned his cheeks; his features were diilinct 
 •and manly ; his Inape acd elegant ; his perfon 
 
 \11, and his prefence noble. The genial climate of 
 /xvignon increafed the warmth of his conflitution. 
 i he fire of youth, the beauty of fo m.any women 
 rifembled zt the Coun of the Pope from every na- 
 tion in Europe, and abjve 211, the diflblute manners 
 of the Court, led hini, very early in hfe, into con- 
 nections with women. A great portion of the day 
 was fpent at his toilette in ihe decorations of t^refs. 
 His habit was always white, and the leaii: (pot or, 
 an improper fold gave h's m.ind the greatefi: uneall- ^ 
 re's. Even in the fafnion of his fhoes he avoided 
 every form that appeared to him inelegant j they 
 were extremely tight, and cramped his feet to luch 
 a degree, that it would in ^ a (hcrt time have been 
 impoflible for him. to w:lk, if he had not reccilecled 
 that it vi^s much better to (hock the eyes of the 
 ladies t'".an to make hiinfelf a cripple. In v/alking 
 throu[j:h the ftreet3,he endeavored to avoid the rude- 
 nefs of the wind by every p jlFible means ; not tiiat 
 .he was afraid of tr.king coid, but becaufe he was 
 fearful that the drefs of ins hair might be deranged. 
 A iove, hov/ever, m.uch more elevated and ardent, 
 for virtue and me belies kttres^ always counterbalan- 
 ced his devotion to the fair fex. In truth, to exprefs 
 his paffioa for the fex, he wrote aU his poetry in 
 Italian, and only ufed the learned languages upon 
 ferious and important fubjefts. But notwithftand- 
 ing the warmth of his conllitution, he was always 
 chafte. He heli ail debauchery in the utmoft de- 
 teication ; repentanca and difguft immediately feized 
 \\.% mind up^a the ihghteii: indulgence with the fex ; 
 and he often regretted the fenfibiUty of his feelings : 
 
 I ilnuld hke,'' faid he, " to h:;ve an heart as hard 
 as aduraant, rather than be fo coatinually torment- 
 ed by fuch f.'dacing paflions." . Among the num- 
 bssr of iin^ women, however, who adorned the 
 Ggurt of Avigaoii, there were-fome who eadeav.or^ 
 
2^6 Tk InJJucnce of Sotitude^ 
 
 ed to captivate the heart of Petnirch. Seduceclby 
 their charms, and drawn allde by the facility with 
 which he obtained the happiuefs of their company'', 
 he became upon cloi'er acquaintance obedient to all 
 their wifhes ; but the inquietudes and torments of 
 lovefo much alirmed his raind, that he endeavored 
 to fhun its toils. Before his acquaintance v/ith 
 Laura, he was wilder than a ilag ; but, if tradition 
 is to be believed, he hi;d not, ar the age of thirty- 
 five, any occafion to reproach himlelf with mifcon- 
 ducl. The fear of God, the idea of death, the love 
 •cf virtue, the principles of religion',- the fruits of the 
 educadon he receiv.^d from his mother, preferved 
 him from numerous dangers by which he was fur- 
 rounded. 1 he practice of the Civil Law was at 
 this period the only road to eminence at the Court 
 cf the Pope ; but Petrarch held the Law in deteft- 
 ation, and reprobated this venal trade. Previous to 
 devoting himfelf to the Church, he exercifed for 
 ibme lime the profeflion of an advocate, and gained 
 many caufes ; but he reproached himfelf with it af- 
 terwards, in my youth," fays he, " I devoted, 
 myfelf to the trade of leliiBg words, or rather. of tell- 
 inglies ; but that which we do ?g3inft our inclina--j 
 tions, is feldom attended v-ith fuccefs. My fond- j 
 nefs v/as for Solitude, and I therefore attended the! 
 praClice of the bar v/ith the greater detefuation.'' 
 The fecret confciouhiels which Petrarch entertained 
 of his ov/n merit, gave him, it is true, all the vain^ 
 confidence of youth ; and filled his mind with that 
 lofty fpirit which begets the prefumption of being 
 equal to every thing ; but his inveterate hatred of 
 the manners of the Court impeded his exertions^ 
 I have no hope,^' faid he in the thirty- £fth year 
 cf his age, "of making my fortune in the Court 
 of the V icar of Jefus Chriu : to accomplilh that, I 
 mult afliduouily vifit the palaces of the great ; I 
 mud flitter, lie, and deceive." Petrarch was not 
 capable of doing this. lie neither hat^ men nor 
 
Tlje hifluence of Solitude. '^2:3 7 
 
 iiliked advancement, but he detefted the ir-eing 
 t Q-at he muil: neceffarily ufe to attain it. He loved 
 glory, and ardently fought it, though not by the 
 ways in which it is generally obtained. He delight- 
 ed to walk in the moft unfrequented paths, and in 
 c;nfeqaence!^J3 renounced the world. ' 
 
 Theaverficii which Petrarch felt to the man- 
 ners which are pecuf ar to Courts, was the particu- 
 lar occafion of his FJayupon Solitude. In the year 
 1^46 he was, as uiual, during Lent^ at Vaucliife. 
 The Bifn "sp of Cavailian, anxious to enter into con- 
 •verfation with nim, and to tafle the fruits of Soli- 
 tuie, fixed his rendence at his caiile, which is fiiua- 
 ted upon the fuminit of an high rock, and appears 
 to be conftrufted more for the habitadon of birds 
 than men ; at prefsnt the ruins of it only remain to 
 be feen. All th-iit ths Bifhop and Petrarch had feea 
 at Avignon and Naples had inlpired them with dif- 
 guft of relidence in citi-^s, and the higheff contempt 
 for the manners of a Court. They weighed all the 
 unpbafant circumflanqlg they had before experien-. 
 ced, and oppofed the fjtuations which produced 
 them to the advantages of Solitude. This was the 
 ufual fubjed: of their con verfation at the caftle, and 
 that which gave birvh in the mind of Petrarch to 
 the refohition of exploring, and uniting into one 
 work, all his ovrn ideas and thofe of others upon 
 this delightful fubjed:. This work was begun in 
 Lent and ii?:ifhed at Eafter^ but he revifed and cor- 
 rected it afterwards, making many alterations, and 
 adding every thi g which occurred to his mind pre- 
 vious 1:0 the publication. It was not till (he year 
 n^66, (twenty years afterwards) that he fent it to 
 the Bifhop of Cavaillcn, to whom it was dedicated. 
 
 If all that I have faid of Petrarcli in the courfe 
 of this work, were to be colltiTted into one point 
 of view, it would be feen vrhat very important fa- 
 crifices he made to Solitude. But his mind and 
 ills heart were .framed 10 enjoy the advantages it 
 
^3 ^ Injluencc of SolituJ:, 
 
 afford?, with a degree of delight fuperior to tliat i 
 which ciny other perlon ccuLi have enjoyed thein 
 and all this happinefs he obtained from his cifgu 
 to a court, and from his love of hberty. 
 
 The love of liberty was alfo the caufe of Rouf 
 feau's feeling fo violent a d'^ufi for Society, an 
 in Solitude became the fonrce of all his pleafure 
 His letters to M. de Malh.rbo are as remarkable 
 for the information they afford of the true genius 
 of the writer, as are his Ccnfeflions, which have 
 not been better under Itood than his eharacler. He 
 writes in one of them, "I miflock for a great length 
 of time, the caufe of that invincible difguil which 
 i have always felt in the commerce of the 
 world. I attributed rt to the mortification of 
 net pzfTefling that quick and ready talent necc-fTary 
 to difcover in converfation the little knowledge 
 whici i poffeffed ; and this beat back an idea that 
 I did not occupy that Nation in the opinion of man- 
 kind which 1 conceived 1 meri'ed. But after hav- 
 ing fcribbled a great quantity of p'^p:-r, I was per- 
 it&Ay convinced, that even in faying ridiculous 
 things, I was in no danger of beirg taken for a 
 fool. "When 1 perceived myfelf fought after by all 
 the wcrH, and honored with much more conhder- 
 ation than even my own ridiculous vanity would 
 have ventured to expect ; and that, notwithftanding 
 I his, I felt the fame difgufl rather augmented than 
 dimiinfhed ; I concluded that it mutl arife from 
 ibme other caufe, and that thefe were not the kind 
 of enjoyments for which I muft look. What then, 
 in fad, is the caufe of it r It is no otV er than t. -at 
 invincible fpirit of liberty which nothing can over- 
 come and in comparifon v.itli wh'ch honor, fortune 
 and even fame itlelf are to me nothing. It is certain 
 that this ipirit of iiherty is engendered lefs by pride 
 than by indolence ; but this indolence is incredible ; 
 it is alarmed at every thing ; it renders the moil tri- 
 lliiig duties of civil life iiiiuppoitabie : to be obliged 
 
The hifliiencc of Sdliiide. 239 
 
 to fpeak a word, to write a letter, cr to pay a vifit, 
 are to me, from the moment the obi'g^rion arifes, 
 the ievereit punifhmenis. I'his is the reyfon why, 
 although the ordinary commerce of men is odious 
 to mxe, th€ pleafures of private friendihip are fo dear 
 to ray nairt; for in the indulgence of private friend- 
 ihip5 there :^re no duties to perform ; we hive ciily 
 to follow the feelings of the heart, and all is done. 
 This i? th'? reafon il^o why I have fo much dreaded 
 to accept of tavcrs ; for every af: of kindnefs de- 
 mands an acknowledgment ; and I fed that my 
 heart is ungrateTul. oi-ly becaufe gratitude becoines 
 a duty. The kind cf happineis,^ in fhort, vvhich 
 pleales rae oefl, dees not ccnfiit fo much in doing 
 what 1 wifn, as in avoiding that which is repugnant 
 to my inclination. Active life affords no tempta- 
 tions to me ; I would an hundred nmes rat-er do 
 notiting at all, than th:^.t whxh Idillike , and lirave 
 frequently thought, that I fhould not have lived 
 very unhappily even in the Bailile, provided I was 
 free from every other conflraint than that of merely 
 refiding vdthin its walls." 
 
 The advantages of a tranquil leifure were nev- 
 er felt with higher delight than by Rcuiieau ; thefe 
 enjcyments ho^^ever are equally witnin the reach 
 cf every individual. " Wr.en my torments," fays 
 this philofopher, " oblige me to count the long and 
 forrowful prcgrefs of the night, and the violence of 
 my fever prevents me from enjoying one moment's 
 lleep, I frequently forget my prefent condition in 
 reflecting on the various events cf my life, and recol- 
 lection, repentance, regret and pity divide thofe at- 
 tentions in which I bury, for a tew moments, all 
 my fufferings. What fituations do you conceive, 
 Sir, I mic ft frequently and m.oft cheerfully reciil to 
 my mind in thefe meditations ? Not the pleafures of 
 my youth v they v'^^'s too few, too much blended 
 with bitternefs, and ure now too diftant from my 
 thoughts j but the pleafures of my retirement, my 
 
Tlje Influence of Soliimb, 
 
 folitary walks, the tranfient though deiicicus days 
 which I have palled entirely v.^ith rayfelf, with my 
 good old houfekeeper, my faithful, weil-belcved 
 dog, my old cat, the birds of the iields, and th 
 hearts of the forefts, furrcuac'ed by 'A\ the charm 
 of nature, and iilled with their divine and incoi 
 preheiilible Author. Repairing before it wss Pg 
 to niy garden, to (ee andcontemph'tethe rifiog iun 
 when i ciifcovered the fymptcms of a fine day, my 
 firfc prayer was, that neither mefTages nor vilitcrs 
 might arrive to diihirb th^ charm. After having 
 devoted the morning to various cares, which as I 
 could put them c3" till another time, I always attend- 
 ed to with plenfure, i L-ifcened to my dinner (hat I 
 might avoid unpleafant vifatcrs, and thereby procure 
 a longer afternoon. Before one o'clock, even iq 
 the hotteii days cf fummer, while the iun Ihone ia 
 meridian fpiendor, i walked forth v;ith iny faithful 
 Achates, hurrying along, fearful left ibme cne might 
 feize held cf me before 1 was fecure in my efcape ; 
 but when I had once turned a certain corner, and 
 felt myfelf free from danger, with v. hat palpitation 
 of heart, with what lively joy I crew my breath, 
 and exclaimed, " Now I am mafter of miy time for 
 the remainder cf the day i'* I then walked with tran- 
 quil fleps in fearch of Ibme wild, fequeftered fpot 
 in the foreit, fome defart place, where no object, 
 touched by the hands cf men, announced fervitude 
 and domination ; fjme afylum, into which I might 
 fancy that I alone had firfi entered, and where no 
 impertinent intruder might interpole between nature 
 and miyfeif." 
 
 . .. Who would not wTilingly renounce the difTipa- 
 tions of the world for thefe calm enjoyments of the 
 heart ' the fplendid flavery of fociety for this indti- 
 mable liberty ; I am. perfd<5hly aware, tnat mankind 
 in general are not in a firuatton favorable to feif- 
 enjcT^ment ; only let them try, however, the pure 
 jpleafures of the country, and they will find that one 
 
The InfMCKcc if Solitude, 241 
 
 clay of liberty, <^ne hour of quiet, will efleclmliy 
 cure thv^i of their anxiery forfealts, fhows, fin-ry, 
 and aU the noify readezvous cf f 'fhian and folly. 
 
 Pjpe Clement the Sixth oflered to Petrarch, 
 Vefidethe office of i^po'lclic Seo-etary, many con- 
 fiderable hiflioprics. Petrarch confcantly refuied 
 thera. "You will not accept of any thing that I 
 i offer -to you faid the holy father. " Alk of me 
 what you pleafe." Two months afterwards Pe- 
 trarch wrote to one of his friends, " Every degree 
 of elevation creates new fufpicions in my mind, be- 
 caufe I perceive the misrbrtimes that attend lU 
 Would they butgrdnt me that happy mediocrity fo 
 preferable to gold, and which they have promiled 
 rae, 1 {hould accept the gift with gratitude and cnr- 
 diality ; but if they only intend to inveft me with 
 fome important e in ploy men t, I fnall refufe it. I 
 will ihake off the yoke , for 1 had much rather live 
 pDor than become a flave.^ 
 
 An Enghfnman fomewhere afk^, " Why are 
 the inhabitants of the dch plains of Lombardy, 
 where nature pours her gifts in fuch profufion, lefs 
 opulent than tfiofe of the mountains of Swiffcrland ? 
 Becaufe freedom, whofe influence is more benign 
 than tefhine and zephyrs — covers the rugged 
 reck with foil, drains the fickly fv/amp,.and clotnes 
 t^e brown heath in verdure— -drcffes the labor- 
 er's face ^.i ith fm'les, ?.nd makes him behold his in- 
 creafing family with delight ajid exidtation ; free- 
 d.mhas abandoned the fertile fields of Lombardy, 
 and dwells among the mountains of Swiflerhnd."' 
 
 This is the warm enthufiafm of poetry ; but it 
 isliterallytrue atUri,Schwitz,U:idevald5Zug,Glaris, 
 andAppenzel. For he who has more than his wants 
 require, is rich : and whoever is enabled to ihink, 
 to fpeak and to employ himfelf as his inclination may 
 direct, is free. 
 
 Competency ?nd Liberfy, therefore, are the 
 true fweeteners of life. The ffate of mind, fo rare- 
 (XXD 
 
24'2 The Infiicnce of Solitude, 
 
 ly poiTeffed, in whxh we can fincerely fa.y, " I have 
 enough" is the higheft attainment of philcfcphy. 
 Happinefs conlifts not in having too much, but iui- 
 ficient. Kings and princes are unhappy, becaufe 
 they always dellr-^ irore than they poileis, and are 
 continually iiimulated to accomplifh more lhan it 
 is within their power to attain. The gresteft and 
 the beft of kings are therefore not to blame, if they 
 iometim^s fay, " My fon, I am deaf to-dav in my 
 iCii ca.r. 
 
 Men are ordinarily inclined to appe';'.r much 
 happier than in faft tney are ; and they ccnfider 
 every thing which detract:.^ from this appearanre as 
 a real misfortua?. Eu- if you are happy by any 
 means whatfbever, condu6l ycurfeif fo that ncbody 
 fh:uld kn )w it except ycur moft intimate friends. 
 Conceal all the feelings you pofTefs ; hide ?ll that 
 you enjoy ; for envy is ever watchful to find its 
 way into the bofom of tranquillityj and will fooa 
 deilroy its ferenity. 
 
 He who only wants little has ?lways enough. 
 I am contenied,'"' fays Petrarch, in a letter to his 
 friends the Cardinals Taleyrard auvl Bologna, I 
 defire nothing more. I h:ive placed limits to my de- 
 fires. I enjoy every ihi ig that is neceffary to life. 
 Cincinnatus, Curius, Fabricius, Regulus, after hav- 
 ing conquered nationc, and led kings in triumph, 
 wc-'.re not fo rich as I am. But I fliculd aUvays be 
 poor, if I were to open a door to my paffions. Lux- 
 ury, ambiticD, avarice, know no bounds ; and de- 
 fire is a fathomlefs abyfs. I have cloathes to cover 
 me ; victuals to fupporr me ; horfes to carry me ; 
 lands to lie down or walk upon while I am alive, 
 and to receive my remains when dead. What more 
 was any Roman Emperor poifelTed of? My body 
 is healthy ; and ihe flefh fubdued by labor is lefs 
 rebellious againfl the fpirit. I have books of every 
 kind, which to me are an ineitimable treafure ; they 
 fill my fcul with a voluptuous delight v/hich is ncv- 
 
The Infiucncc of Bolitude* 243 
 
 cr tin(^ured with reraorfe. I have friends v/hom I 
 confider more precious than any thing I poffefs, pro- 
 vided their counfels do not tend to deprive nie of 
 my liberty. I know of no other enemies? than thole 
 which envy has raifed againll m-?. I defpife them 
 from the bottom of my heart ; and perhaps it would 
 be unhappy for rae if they were not my enemies, 
 1 ft . 11 reckon among my riches theiove and kindnefs 
 of «11 the good men that are upon eartn, even thcfe 
 whom 1 have nevar feen, and perhaps never lhail 
 fee." 
 
 From this paffage we dlfcover that envy fol'-- 
 b wed Petrarch in^o the retreats of Solitude. He 
 frequently compliiins of it ; but in this letter he 
 treats it widi propriety. He defpifes his envious 
 enemies, and would be ferry if he were without 
 them. 
 
 Soli.tu!e difcovers tcnr^nkind their real wants. 
 Where great fjiripli'^ity of insn :ers prevail, men id- 
 Wciys p0:i"-is infficient for the enj Dyment of ii le. If 
 I neit'^.er fee n'^r k:iow the ti.ings which you have;, 
 crdefire to pciTe(s, I cannot entertain, even i^n idea 
 cf an3' good which tbev can pjfilbly produce. An 
 eld cou-:try curate reiidmj iip 'U a f.-fiv incu!:taiii 
 near the lake of Thun, in ihe Car~.t yn of Bern, was 
 cue day prefented with a nijorccck, 'i he- good man 
 w^os ignorant cf the rarity he had received, and c:n~ 
 faited wiih bis co~k what he iliouid do with it. The 
 p.dtor and the cook agreed to lairy it in the ground. 
 Alas ! were w? all 'as ignorant rmorcccks^ we I'hould 
 r.U be as happy ?.s the curate cf the mountain near 
 the lake of Ihun. 
 
 He who places limits to his real wants is more 
 wife, more rich, and more contented tnan us all. 
 The fyftem up::n which he acls partakes of the no- 
 ble faTiphxity of his mind, lie finds felicity in the 
 mofh obfcure life, in fitiiations at the greatefh dif- 
 tance from the world. Truth and fimplicity are the 
 only objects of his afFe(rtion \ he f;. Hows that phiiof-- 
 
2"44 ^^^^ Irifiience of Solitude, 
 
 ophy which requires but little, h?.s few want s, arid 
 feekV> his h'gheil happinefs in a contented mind. 
 
 Pep?, when only twelve years of age, wrote an 
 afff cling and agreeable little ode cn ihe iiibject of 
 Solitude, which comprehends the very efi?nce 
 this phiLfophy. 
 
 ODE ON SOLITUDE. 
 
 Hnppy the man whofe vvifli and rate 
 
 A few p<iterna! acres bound, 
 Content to breathe his ^atite z\r 
 
 In bis own gi'ounJ^ 
 Whofe herds with milk, whofe lields with brcdci, 
 
 Whofe flocks fuppl y him with attire, 
 Whofe trees in lummer yield him fhiide. 
 
 In winter, fire. 
 Bleft, who can unconccin'dly find 
 
 Hours, days and years Aide foft away. 
 In health of body, peace of mind, 
 
 Quiet by day. 
 Sound fleep by night, rtudy and eafe 
 Together mi <'d, fwect recreation ! 
 ■And innocence, which moft does pleafe, 
 
 With meditaxion. 
 TJiiis Ifrt me live, unfeen, unknown, 
 
 'I'hus unla:r>ented let medic, 
 Ste.il from the world, and not a ftone 
 
 Tell where 1 lie. 
 
 To thcfe who love a calm and tranquil Hfe, the 
 fcenes^ of fcnfuality become more fimple, peaceful^ 
 and iefs alar:nir:g ; to the worldiy-mi jded this iielJ 
 is full of barren, dreary places ; of noife and tumult ; 
 vineyards and banqueling-houfes ; wanton dancings 
 and infirmaries ; tombs upon which the rofes fade ; 
 and dark fliad s in v^hich lovers meet. But to the 
 mind of hi'ii who fnuns fuch brutal joys, fuch grcls 
 voluptuoufiiefs, the pleafures of fenfe are of a more 
 elev.ited kind ; as fcft as th^y are fublime ; as inna- 
 cent as th.ey are pure ; ana as permanent as they 
 are tranquil. 
 
 The diLufl which flows from opulence difap- 
 pears ia the fnnplicity of rural life. The bofoni 
 learns to enjoy ieafaiiors verj different from thofe 
 it experienced m the world. The fentiments of th^ 
 miad ace rendered more free \ the ieeiin^ of th^ 
 
T^e InJIimce of SoUimk, 245 
 
 Meart more pure ; neither overpowered by profu- 
 fiony nor blunted by liitiety. 
 
 Petrarch ooe day inviting his friend the Cnr- 
 dinal Cobnna to vilit his^ retirement at Vauclufe, 
 wrote to him, " If yon prefer the tranqniliity of th« 
 country to the tumults of the town, come here and 
 enjoy yourfelf : do not bealarired at the fimplicity 
 ofmy table, or the hardnefs of my beds. Kings 
 tiiemftlves are fometimes difgufted with iuxury.^and 
 enjoy the pleafures of a more frugal repaft. They 
 are pleafed by the change of fcene ; and occafiona! 
 interruption does not render their pleafures iefs 
 lively. But if 3^ou wifh only to enjoy your accuf- 
 tomed luxury, what is to prevent your bringing 
 with you the most exquifite viands, the wines of 
 Vefuvius, difhes cf filvcr, and every thicg that can 
 delight the fenfes ! Leave the reft to me. I prom-* 
 ife to provide you with a bed cf the finefl turf, a 
 cooling fhade, a concert of nightingales, figs, raifms, 
 water drawn from the frefhefc fpringSjand, in fhort, 
 every thing that the hand of nature prefents to true 
 pleafure." 
 
 Who won! ,i not,- alas I willingly renounce thofe 
 things which only produce difquietude in the mind^ 
 for thofe which render it coatented ? The art of 
 occafionally diveriing the imagination, taile, and 
 paffions, affords new and unknown enjoyments to 
 the mind, and confers pleafure without pain, and 
 luxury without repentance. The fenfes, deadened 
 by fatiety, revive to new enjoyments. The lively 
 twitter of the grovesjand the murmur cf the brooks 
 yield a more delicious pieafure to the ear than the 
 mufic of the opera, or the compofitions of the 
 ableft mafters. The eye repofes more agreeably on 
 the concave firmament, on an expanfe of waters, on 
 mountains covered wi»h rocks, than it dees at balls,. 
 aiTemblies and petits foupers. The mind enjoys in 
 Solitude objeds which were before infupportable ;: 
 and, reclining cn thebrfom of fimplicityj eafi^y re— 
 (XXi 2) 
 
The Influence of Sortfudrr 
 
 bounces every vain delight. Petrarch wrote ffciii i 
 Vauclufe to one of his friends, " I have made war { 
 againit my corporeal powers, for I liad they are my I 
 enemies. My eyes, which have occafionei me to | 
 commit fo many follies, are now confined to the 
 view of a fingle w^oman, old, black, and fun-burnt. ' 
 If Helen and Lucretia had poffelTed fuch a face, 
 'iVoy would never have been reduced to aihes, nor f 
 Tarquin driven from ti.e empire of the world. Buty j 
 to compenfate thefe defects, (he is faitbfal, fubiiiif' j 
 five and induf:ncus. She paffes whole days in the \ 
 fields ; and her fhrivelled ikin dclies the burrirg ( 
 fun, even in the hotteft dog-days. My v/ard-rob^ 
 iiill contains fine cloaths, but i never w^ear them ; 
 and yen w^ould take me for a common laborer or a i 
 f mpie ihepherd — I who was formerly fo anxious ' 
 about my drefs. But the reafons which then pre- 
 vailed, no longer exift ; the fetters by which 1 was - 
 enilaved are broken ; the eyes which I v/as anxious 
 to pleafe are fhut ; and if they were i'till open, they 
 would net perhaps now be able to maintain the fame 
 emp're over my heart.'' 
 
 * Solitude, by ftripping worldly objects cf that 
 falfe Iplendor wiih which the imagination arrays 
 them, deitroys the vain ambition of the mind. Ac- 
 GuUcmed to rural pleafure, and indifferent to every 
 other, a wife man no longer feels power and digni- 
 ties worthy cfhis defres. A Roman was over- 
 whelmed with tears by being obliged to accept the 
 Confulfliip, becaufe it v/culd fcr one year deprive 
 him of the pl jcfure of cultivating his fieMs. Cin- 
 cmnatus, who was called from the plough to the 
 command cf the army of the empire, defeated the 
 i:r.eir-y, poffeiled himfelf of the province s, made his 
 triumphal er.try iiuo Rome, and at the expiration 
 cf lixteen days reiuraed to the plough. 
 
 To be the inmate of an humble cottage, or the 
 cwner of a fpacious manHon, to have every thing 
 fumptucufly provided, or to be. obliged to eara the 
 
The h^uence of Solitude. t^J^ 
 
 mesns of fubfiftebce, are not heli in equTil eftima- 
 tion by mankind : but kt the man who has expe- 
 rienced both the one and the other of thefe iituations 
 be asked, under which of ihem he has paffed the 
 moft contented life: who can reccuni the greater 
 number of cares and inquietudes which are felt in 
 the palace than under tne roof of the fimple cotta- 
 ger ? Who can deny that, in the former, dlfcontenf 
 prAfoDS every enjoyment, and makes eafe and fuper- 
 lluity a difguifed mifery ? The Princes (^f Germany 
 cannot digefl ail the poifon which their cooks pre- 
 pare, fo well as a peaiant upon the heaths of Lim- 
 bourg d'gelts his buck-wheat pie y and thofe who 
 may differ from me in this opinion, will be forced 
 to acknowledge, that there is great truth in the reply 
 which a pretty French country girl made to a young* 
 and amiable nobleman who fclicited her to aban- 
 don her folit'tiry, rurrd fr nation, and retire with him 
 to Paris : " Ati ! Monlieur le Marquis, the farther 
 we remove from our felves, the greater is our dif-* 
 tance fr nn happinefs.*' 
 
 A fingle pafJion v/hich we are neither inclined 
 ror able to iatisfy, fr;:-quently embitters cur live?.. 
 There ar? moments in which the mind is difconten'-- 
 ed with itfelf, tired of it? errftence, dngulkd wiih 
 every thing, incapable of relifhing either Solitude 
 cr DiiTipation, lolt to all repofe, and alienated from 
 every plediure.- Time under fnch a lituaticn, altho* 
 unemployed, appears horribly tedious ; an impene- 
 trable chaos of (entiment and idccis prevails ; the 
 prefent aliorJs'no enjoyment; and we wait with 
 impaiience for the fumr=. The mi::-d, in truth, 
 v/ants V.Q true filt cf life ; and without that, 
 exilter.ce is inlipid. 
 
 But v/here is this precious fait to be' found? Is 
 it in the paiTioa cf love ? Love, without doubt, fre- 
 quently preferves life, and fcmetimes gives it new 
 vigor and animauon ; but a paffi :n which under- 
 niiaes. and con(ume§ us, can neither alF^rd perma- 
 
TJje Influence of Solitude, 
 
 nency cor tranquillity. The love c?.pable of raifing 
 itfelf to the flrength and power of being permanent, 
 muft defcend into a (incere frienddjip, or it will de- 
 ftroy itfelf or its object, by adding fuel to a fiibtle 
 flame, which will reduce the lever and bel oved to an 
 heap of cindars. The f^lt of life, therefore, mufh 
 be extraftsd from a paffioa wnich does not require 
 Lhe aid of another to fnpport it ; which is capable 
 of feedjijg itfelf ; which ?.cquires new force the 
 longer it continues ; and which, free and indepen- 
 dent, raifes the foul fuperior to every thing that fur- 
 rounds it. 
 
 Solitude and limited defires afford a true hap- 
 pinefs to the ftatefman who is cafh^.ered from his 
 office or exiled from the flate. Every great Minif- 
 ter does not, indeed, retire from his employments, 
 like Neckarjth rough ti^e portals of everhftliig fame. 
 But every one without diftiD^tion ought to raife 
 their grateful hands to Heaven, on finding them- 
 felves fuddenly conveyed from the troubled cceaa 
 of public life to the calm repofe of their natWe fields, 
 to the paftoral care of their flocks and herds, under 
 the fhade of tlioie trees which their ai^ceftors plant- 
 ed. In France, however, if the Mir iller incurs the 
 difpleafure of his Sovereiojn, he is ordered to retire 
 that is, to retire to the eflate which he has embel* 
 rfhed and made a mc ft agreeable retreat. But 
 alas ! this dehghtful retreat is to him a place of 
 exile ; the fituation becomes intolerable ; he no 
 brger taftes its beauties with pleafure ; and fleep 
 flies from his eyes, fmce he is no teger his own ^ 
 rnafter. The leifure he poflTefl^^s renders him an 
 impatient hypochondri^.c, whofe mir.d turns with 
 averfion from every objfft, and whofe ill- humor 
 tinctures every thing he fees. The difgrace of a 
 Miniiterin France is frequendy fatsl to his polidcal. 
 exigence -y but this is not the cafe ia England ; 
 
 Jt is to this end, ' fays one of our writers, that difgrace.^, 
 «f sloAoft every kind coaiiuii xnem The credit, authority, and «oft' 
 
The Infiicnce of S^rituJe. 249. 
 
 there^hi^y felicitate the Minif.er on his retiremen*', 
 as a man juix recovereJ from a darg:eroiiS dif tem- 
 per. Heilill maintains manymore and tetter friends 
 tnan he before p'offeirid ; fcr thefe are attached to 
 him by fin cere eireein, while the former were at- 
 tached to hiiii only bv their intereils. May tre 
 great Gover' or of the Univerfe recomp^nie Britons 
 for 'hj examples thty have given to us of men fuf- 
 ficientiy bcld and indepe::dcct to weigh every tranl- 
 aclion in the fcales of reafon, and to guidy them- 
 (elves by t''e intrinfic and real merit of each cafe ? 
 For, nctwituflan^ir.g the rallincfs with- Vv^hich many 
 Englifhmen have revvdted ag?,i.iit tha Supreme Be- 
 ing, notwithflanding the laugh and mockery with 
 wriich they have frequently infulted virtue, good 
 manners and deccrum, there are many nmong them 
 who, elpecially at an adv^anred period of their lives, 
 perfe^ly underftand taeartof living by themfelves ; 
 who in th.-ir tranquil and delighiful villus think 
 much more nobly, and live with more freedom and 
 dignity, dian an^ ignorant or prefumpiive peer of 
 Parliament pofTehes. 
 
 it is iaid, that of twenty Ministers who receive 
 the pal)lic thaiiks, or are forced by age to rc fign 
 themfelves to retirement, there are always twelve 
 or fifteen who finilh their career by becoming Gar- 
 deners and Country Gentlemen. So much the 
 better for tnefe Ex-IVIiniiiers ; f^r tliey, like the ex- 
 cellent Chancellor de la Rocne, at Spire^ certairdy 
 poileis much more content with tie Jhvel and the 
 rakey than they enjoyed in the moil profperous hcui^ 
 of thsir adminiilration. 
 
 Seniiments Uke thefe, furniili, it is faid, an ex- 
 cellent theme to thole who,ignorant of the manners 
 of the world, and unacquainted with men, are fond 
 of raorahzing, and of extoihng a contempt of human 
 
 lideration which rhey befoieenpyed, are like thofe tranfient fires which 
 fliine during the night: j and being fuddcnly extingr.i/hed, only render 
 £ii€ daikaeis and Soiitudejin 'Ahich the crctveikris involved, morfvilibi*. 
 
^^0 The Infiicnce of Solitude, 
 
 grep.tnefs. ^ Rur?J innccerice and aimifenieiat, the 
 pure and firnpie pleiuurcs of nature, and the erjo^^- 
 ment of a calm content ib arduoufiy acquired, very 
 feUom form, it is contended, any porlion of thole 
 bon.f.e j advantages which tiiis Sditude is faid to 
 pofTefs. It is added ^ilfp, ihit a Miniiier in office, 
 though furrouncled by endlefs diiiicul ies, fubieft to 
 fncefiant tcrmenr, obliged to rack his brains, a;:d to 
 eniploy every art and cunning to attain his ends, 
 begins by his fuccef^ to feel that he has attained 
 wiiat until this period he h id never before pofieiied, 
 the chanidcr of Mailer and Sovereign ; that \ c is 
 then enabled to create and to dellroy, to plant and 
 to root up, to make alterations wlien and where he 
 pleafes ; tliat he may pull down a vineyard and creel 
 an Engihh grove on its icite ; make hills where 
 hills v/ere never feen be.fcre j lev- el eminences Vvith 
 the ground; compel the f-ream to il 'w as his in- 
 clination lhall direcr ; f .rce woods and fhrubberies 
 to grow v/here he ple::!cs ; gr;ift or lop as it (hall 
 ftrike his idea ; opm views and fhut cut bounda- 
 ries ; conllrucr ruins where ruins: never happrne^ ; 
 ereft temples of which he alon-i is the high-pi ieu ; 
 and bu'ld hermitages wnere i^.e may feclnde himfslf 
 at pieaiiirc ; that ;ill this is not a reward for the re- 
 Itraints he f:nr.erly experienced, but a natural in^ 
 clination, fuicenovv he may give orders without be- 
 i;jg himreif obliged to obey ; for a minifler pjull be, 
 from the habils of his life, fsnd of commeind and 
 fovereignty to the end of his d^ys, v/hether he con- 
 tinues at the head of an extenfive empire^ or directs 
 tile mani-gement of a poultry-yard. 
 
 To maintain that it is necellary to renounce 
 the na'ural paffi. ns of the human mind in order to^ 
 enjoy the advantages of Sohtude, would, without 
 doubt, not only be inor:diz".ng very awkwardly, but 
 difcover a great ignorance cf ti^e world, and of the 
 nature of man. That v/hich is planted in the breafl 
 cf man muft there remain, if therefore a miniHa' 
 
The Influence of Zol'dxule, 25 1 
 
 be not fatiat€(^ with the exerclfe of power and au- 
 thority, if in his retirement he fall reiain the weak- 
 nefs TO Willi for command, let hiia require obedi- 
 ence from his chicke.is whenever he pleafes, provi- 
 ded fuch a gratification is efleciiai to his happinefs, 
 and tends to fuppi'-els the defire of ?gain expoling 
 himfclf to thcf*^ tempefts and fnipwrecks which he 
 can only avoid in the faf<^ harbor of rurrd life." Aa 
 ex-niiniiler muft fconer or later learn to defpife the 
 upp^nr^nces of human grandeur ; for in his retire- 
 mer.t he will perceive that true greatnefs frequently 
 begins at th?.t pericd of Hfe which flatefmen are apt 
 to conlider as a dreary void ; he will difcover that 
 the regret of being no longer able to do mere good, 
 is only r;mbiticn in difguife ; and feel that the in^ 
 habitants of the country, in cultivating their cabba- 
 ges and afparagus, are a hundred times happier than 
 the greateft mlnifler. 
 
 Under fuch circumftances it is only necelTary 
 (o be contented with one's feiF, to forget the fuper- 
 iluities of life, and to render the little we poffefs as 
 palatable as pofFible. The firfc year which Petrarch 
 pafTed at Vauclufe^ h« was alT.oft always alone, had 
 no other company than his dog, no ether fervant 
 than a r.eighborii?g filherm.an, who ferved him with 
 ever / tliiag he wanted. The dome['.ics who at- 
 tended him at Avignon, not being able to accufiom 
 themf elves to this manner of living, quitted his fer- 
 vice. Befide, he was bsdly lodged, having cnly 
 one poor cotf age for his refidence, which he after- 
 wards rebuilt without any art, merely to render it 
 tenantable, and even the traces of which no longer 
 remain. His fare was coarfe raid frugal ; nothing 
 that flatters the fenfes was to be feen there. His 
 
 * " Marihal de BoufHers has retired to cultivate his fields," faid 
 Ma<iame de Ma'intenon : ='I aiu of opinion that this Gincianatus 
 would not he forry to be retched from his pljagh. At his departuie be 
 charged us all to think of him, if any thing was wanted duiing his ab- 
 feace, which may perhaps continue Sfteea days." 
 
lh€ JnfulCKCC f Soliliide. 
 
 befl friends, therefore, called upon him very feld(3m, 
 and when they came, their vilits were very fhcrt ; 
 others only vifited him from the fame charirable 
 feelings wuiob lead meu to the chamber of the fick, 
 or the (liiDgecn of the priibner. He wrote to his 
 friend Philip de CaiTabolJ, Biiliop of Cava^llon, 
 who Vw-as then at Naples, " Let others rmi after 
 riches and honors 5 let them be Princes and Kings ; 
 I (hall never attempt to impede their career. I am 
 contented with the humble chr.ra^ter of Poet. And 
 why, my good bifhop, \^ ill you cont:rai?.ily wander 
 f rem place to place merely to difccver the ro^d to 
 preferment ? You know the fnares which are laid 
 ia the Courts of Princes, the anxieties which cor- 
 rode the heart, and the riJks which are run, and 
 the fiorms to which hfe is expofed there. Return, 
 therefore, toyourdi jctfe, relui-n to tranquilhty and 
 rep vie. You may do this with honor, while for- 
 tune fmiles upon you. — You will there find every 
 thing you can denre. I.ea\ e fuperfluity to the av- 
 aricious. The rooms, although not decorated with 
 tapsSry, are coramodioufly fun:ifhed. If cur table 
 is not iumptu:us. yet we fiave fomething at leaft to 
 iatisfy hunger. Our beds are not covered with 
 gold and purple, but we do not fleep in them with 
 leTs comfort. I'he hour of death approaches, and 
 warns me to renounce all the extravagant vanities 
 of hfe. To cultivate my gardens is now the only 
 pleafure I purlue. I plant fruit-trees, in hope that 
 while I am fifhing on my rocks, they will cover me 
 with their fhade. But my trees are old, and require 
 to be replaced ; I m.u:x therefore requefl: that ycu 
 will defire your attendants to bring me fome plants 
 of the peach and pear tree from Naples- The en- 
 joyments of my old aj^e are purclialed by labor ; 
 and I live in expectation of future pieafures, which 
 I intend to participate with you aiore : this is what 
 the Hermit on the hanks of the Sergue writes to 
 3rai frem the middle of the forefto" 
 
The Irfluence of Mitudc, afj;^ 
 
 Solitude, however, will net procure us ail tliefe 
 advantages, unlets we renounce the mania of refi- 
 ning upon happinefs. By endeavoring to make 
 things better than they are, we forget all that is 
 good. He who always vievv^s things oa the favora- 
 ble fide, who wifhes that ail things which are wrong, 
 and which ought to remain wrong, were inade 
 rght, vcluntarily (urrenders a large portion of his 
 pleafures ; for without fo great a number oS. wrongs 
 hads ill the world, life would not be fo entertaining 
 as it is. 
 
 To live happily, it is an excellent mtixim to 
 take things juil as they are ; cr to adn-it, with a 
 celebrated German phUcfopher, as the foundation 
 o^' all morality, that it is our duty to do as much 
 good as poiTible, and to be contented v/iih every 
 thing as we find it. This fpecies of morality is 
 certainly founded in toleration and good nature ; 
 but it is apt to d?generate too ep.fily into a iocfer 
 kind of philofophy,"^ v/hich produces noihing good 
 in daring minds, and does not render the people free. 
 \t is true, however, that there is no character in the 
 world fo unhappy as he who is continually finding 
 fault with every thing he fees. 
 
 My barber at Hanover, while he was preparing 
 to (have me, exclaimed with a deep figh, " It i^ 
 terribly hot to-day." " You place Heaven," faid 
 I to him, " in greut difficuliies ; for thefe nine 
 months lad paft you hive regularly told me every 
 other day. It is ferribly rJci to- day'' Cannot the Al- 
 mighty, thea, any longer govern the Univerfe with- 
 ou* thefe gentlemen-barbers finding fomething to 
 be difconteated with ? " Is it not," I allccd him, 
 " much better to take the feafcns as they change, 
 and receive with equal gratitude from the hands of 
 
 * '*Let the world go as it pleafes," fays an ingenious writer-, to 
 da one's duty tolerably well, and fpeak always in praife of tl)e good 
 Prior, is an ancient maxim of the monks ; but it may lead tte difci- 
 rSine of coc-vents into a ftate of mediocrity, relaxation, and coiUeirpt.** 
 
55 4- -^^^^ Influence of MHiide* 
 
 God the winter^s cok!:and the fu miner's warmth 
 — " O ! certainly,'' replied the kirber. 
 
 I may therefore vath certainty maintain, that 
 c-MYipetency and content are, in general, iiighly ben- 
 eficiai to mankind ; and that under many circum- 
 flances Solitude favors both tha one and the ether. 
 
 One of the advantages we ftill owe to Solitude 
 is, that it enables us habit to relinquifh the foci- 
 cty of men. For as it is impofTible always to pro- 
 cure agreeable and intereftlng company, we foon 
 lofe the defire to attain it, and confole ourfdves 
 with the idea, that it is incomparably more eaify to 
 drive away languor and difcontenr in retirement 
 than in the world : befide, as it very rarely happens 
 than on quitting a pubhc ailembly we enter with 
 great good humor into the examination of ourfelves, 
 this ought ftill to be another reafon to induce us 
 the more eafily to renounce it. The lefs, there- 
 fore, we form connexions with other men, the 
 more we are qualified for an intercourfe with our- 
 felves, independent of all acquaintance with the 
 world. 
 
 It is frequently difficult to (icd an amiable and 
 fcnfible charader with whom we may form a con- 
 neclion, and to whom v/e can freely communicate 
 cur thoughts, our plealurcs, and our p:^ins. In this 
 cafe nothing but employment and aftivity can di- 
 vert our minds. The idle and unemployed^ not 
 being able to drive avvay hffitude and difcontent by 
 yawning, expect that relief from the coming on of 
 time, which the induftrious eujoy every moment of 
 their lives. The coldnefs of indolence freezes all 
 the fun£lions of the heart ; and the dread of labor 
 poifons every pleafure : but tiie man who ferioufly 
 adopts fome ufeful courfe of Ufe, who immediately 
 executes whatever his ftation calls upon him toper- 
 form, always enjo^^s a contented mind. To him 
 the day apiDcars too fhort, the night too Icng.^ 
 V6x,adon and difquietude vanifb from rhe breafi of 
 
The Influence 9/ Solitude, 25^ 
 
 him who never baves for the performance of to« 
 morrow that which may be done to-day, and who 
 ,makes himfelf mafler of the preftnt morrent, and 
 ,does net iiidifcreetly rely upon an unce! tain futurityo 
 A fituation in a fmall village, or a ccuntry re- 
 tiremenr, is beit faited to this ipecies of employ- 
 ment. I'he great world is a fcene of agitation from 
 morning to night, although, flridly fpeaking, noth- 
 ing is done during the day. In a fm.ill vilb.ge, or 
 more fequeftered fituation, the mind has time to 
 think ; vfz viev/ every object with more interell"^ 
 and difcharge every duty with higher pleafure. We 
 do not read as the world reads, merely to fay that 
 we have read, but to enjoy and benefit by the good 
 which our readirg affords. Every thing we read 
 in filence, in tranqiiilUty, finks deep into- the mind, 
 unites itfelf more cicfely with our thoughts, and 
 cperates more forcibly on the heart. A judicious 
 ufe of time in fuch a fituation foon lefiens cur ia- 
 clination to fociety, and, at I'^ngth, we efbeem our-- 
 Lives completely happy in finding it totally extin- 
 gulihed. 
 
 For this reafjn, the filerxe of the country 
 proves frequently, to the female mind, the fchool' 
 cf true philoicphy. In England, where the face of 
 Nature is fo beautiful, and where the inhabitants 
 arehouily adding new embeinfliments to her^harm.Sj. 
 rural fife pcfielles in itfelf inexprcllible d? light s : 
 but among that adive people, the love of Scll'.ude' 
 is perhaps, in general, much lironger in women tiian 
 in men. The nobhman who empbys the day in 
 riding over his ellate, or in foil owii-.g the hounds^ 
 does not enjoy the Solitude of rural hfe with the 
 I'lime pleafure as his lady, who employs her time in 
 needle- work, or in reading in her romantic pleafure- 
 grounds fome intlruOive or affecting work. In 
 England, where ideas flow fo rapidly, where, iti 
 general, the people hve io m-uch to think, the calm 
 cf retirement becomes more v-aluable, and theen^ 
 
::^6 Tks Influence of Solitude', ] 
 
 joyiiieTi ts of the mind more interefting. The learn* 
 ing which has at prefent fo coDfiderably iDcreafed 
 amcng the hdies of Germany, certainly ewes its 
 or.gln to rural life , for among thofe who pafs much 
 of their time in the country, who l^ad a life of re- 
 tirement, and read only for their improvement, we 
 lind in general incomparably more .true wit and 
 fentiment than among the kdux ef^rits cf the me- 
 tropolis. 
 
 Hew would thcf" who occafionally rtfiie in the 
 country abridge the time of ti:eir relidence in town, 
 if they weighed and felt the advantages of a rural 
 fituation ! 'i h!; frivolous enjoyments cf the mtCtrop* 
 olis would then vex and difguit their minds ; they 
 would loon be difcontented to fee men employ time 
 with fo Utile improvement to themfelves ; in run- 
 ning inceffantly after every thing that is iirange, de- 
 voting their whole lives to drels, gaming, payirg 
 vifits, without ever refigning themfelves to thofe 
 iubiime refle^lions which elevate and enoble the 
 lieart. Pofieiled of goodnefs, liberality, and iim^ 
 plicity, a country life, after having lived in the 
 town, aiTords fo many oppDrtunities of being hap- 
 py, that it is impofiible to be languid or difcontent- 
 ed, provided we are neither negligent, i Jde, Tick, ncr 
 in love. 
 
 How fweet, how coniolrng it is in the tranquil- 
 lity of re:ir foment to call to remembrance our ab- 
 fent friends ! Ah, this remembrance alone makes 
 lis taile 'again in SoUtude all the pleafures we have 
 enjoyed in their fociety. — " You are far rem.oved, 
 but I am notwithftanding always near to you. 
 There is the place where you ufed to fit. I have 
 I he identical chair flill by me. You gave me that 
 picture ; that charming tranquil landl'cape. With 
 what foft effufion, with what a natural overflow of 
 feeling and fentiment we enjoyed the view of that 
 engraving, upon thofehvely images of a happy iran- 
 qciillity 1 1$ it pciTibie to be unhappy, we may ex* 
 
The Injluerice of Solitude, 
 
 craim, v/nen we ^^ever liv3 with higher joy, with 
 greater a<^ivity, never feel the pleaflires of hope and 
 expectation with more refmed delight than when v/e 
 are only one day's jocrney from each other !" — By 
 the aid of thefe light ?Ttifices of imagination, thefe 
 flattering illufion.^-, which Sclitude fuggefts, two 
 friends, feparated by the greateft diftance, may live 
 io continual interccurfe wi heach other, even when 
 feparated by oceans ; when each no longer Tilens to 
 the voice or diftinguifnes the approaching fteps of 
 the object he loves. 
 
 Friends whom detliny has feparated from each 
 other, do not any where feel their fentiments fo no- 
 ble and relined as in thofe places where nothing in« 
 terrupts this foft intercourfe, and where the plealures 
 oF the world cannot interpofe between their hearts,- 
 l^Iutual ill humor, thofe mortiliications which a com-»- 
 merce with the world daily inilidls, and a number 
 of little accidents, may fometimes leflen the delight 
 which the commny of the deareft friend would oth- 
 erwife afford. In thefe unhappy moments the mind 
 is only influenced by the temporary feelings of the 
 heart, and never once recurs to thole friendly inters 
 courfes which once prevailed when engaged in the 
 moft important affairs, and to which it will fcon 
 again return forever. He who until this time had 
 attra<fled my love, now repels it by ill humor ; and 
 how many a^reeabh fentiments, how many of the 
 moft dt lightful pleafnres of my life would be loft, if 
 I were always to forget the pafl: in the prefent. and 
 to anfwer his peevifnnefs by my ill humor ! A fhort 
 vexation, and that Httle fub-acid humor which wilF 
 fometimes 2 rife, only obfcures for an inftact the 
 flattering image under which my friend is accuiiom.- 
 ed to appear before me, whofe prefence always rai- 
 fes fuch delightful fenfatious in my hc^art. diffufes 
 felicity and pleafure ov:-r my life, charms every 
 vexation from my breaff, banifhes my ill humcr^ 
 and who, until the prefent moment, has ever co^ 
 {XXII z) 
 
25^ * The Influence cf Solitude. i 
 
 cealed his ill humor from my view. This muft be, 
 without doubt, the priviltge of intimacy. But 
 friends ought not to wreak their difc on tents on each 
 other ; friends who have heretofore lhared together 
 in -all the misfortunes of life, who have mutually 
 fufered for, and endcav ^ed to relieve, the feeUiigs 
 of each oth^r'^: breaft. Friendfhip demands fmceri- 
 ty, but (he :iiro in commoa benevolence demands a 
 mutual inc^ulgence and accommodation ; and re- 
 quires that m.ildnefs fnould be oppoied to anger, aad 
 patience to ill humor. This, however, can never 
 happen v/here each indulges the afperities of his 
 tem.per, and, crcffed by the em-barralfments of life,, 
 becomes peevifh, fcrgets every attention aiid civiUty 
 Mmfelf, and complains that they are not obferved to 
 bira. But how quickly do all thefe inconveniences- 
 difappear ia Solitude 1 So litude fandifies the mem- 
 ory of thofe we bve, and cancels all recolk<fi:ion- 
 but that which contributes to the enjoyments of 
 Friendiliip ! Conftai:cy, fecurity, comidcnce, there 
 appear ag?,in i:i all their brlghtntrs, and re.nflume 
 their empire in the heart. Every pulfe of the fouV 
 beats in pcrft ct harmony : 1 linen with pleafure to. 
 my friend, he attends to w^q ia return ; although 
 diitant, hs is elivays near me: I communicate ta 
 him all my thoughts 'aod all mv fenfations. I pre- 
 ferve, as facred to cur friendihip, all the flowers- 
 that he ilrevv^s over the thorny p?.th of my life ; and 
 ail thofe w ich I can perceive i g-ither for him. 
 
 Solitude not ovAy reiines the enjoy irents cf 
 friendfhip, but places us in a fituation to gain friend3^ 
 w'nom neither time nor accident can take away, frcm 
 whom nothing can alienaie our ibuls, and to whole 
 arms we never fly in vain. 
 
 The friends of Petrarch fjmetimes wrote to 
 him, apologizing f:r- not hiving been to fee him. 
 
 It is impcilible to live wi'h you,'' lay they ; " the 
 Hfe v/hich you Ic^ad at Yauclufe is repugnant to hu* 
 TOH nature. In v/intcr ycu lit? like an owl, with 
 
The Lifuence of SGliiude. ^^(> 
 
 your face over the (ire ; in the fiiinmer ycu are in- 
 celfantly running about the fields : feldoaj does one 
 find you ("eated under the fhade of a tree.'' Pe- 
 trarch finiled at thefe reprefentutions : " I'hefe peo- 
 ple/* faid he, " confder the pleafures of the world 
 ' as their iupreme good ; and conceive that one ought 
 not to renounce tnem. i poilefs a number of friends* 
 wh'jie fociety is extremely agreeable to me. They 
 are of all countries, and of all age? ; they are dif- 
 tinguiihed ia war, in p3litics, and in the fciences.. 
 It is very eafy to acquire them ; they are always at 
 my fervice : 1 call for their company, and fend them 
 away whenever I pleafe ; they are never trouble- 
 fome, and mimediately anfvver all my queilions. 
 Some relate to me the events of ages paft ; others 
 reveal the fecrets of nature : thefe teach me howio 
 live with h?.ppinefs ; and thofe h^w to die in quiet : 
 thefe drive av/ay every care by the enjoymeat th^y 
 afford me, and increafe my gaiety by the livelinefs 
 of their wit ; while there are others who h:rden my 
 heart againfl fufFerings, teach me to reflrain my de- 
 fires, and to depend only on myfelf. In one word^ 
 they open to me an avenue to ail the arts, toallthe- 
 fcienccs, and up3n their information I f.uely rely. 
 In return for thefe great fervices, they only require 
 of me a chamber in one corner of my fmail manfion, 
 where they may repofe in peace, in (hort, I carry 
 them with me into the fields, with the tranquillity 
 of which they are much better pleafed than the tu- 
 mults of the town." 
 
 Love ! the moH precious gift- oP heaven, that 
 happy fenfibility from which srifes every emo ionof 
 tlie heart, appears to merit a diftinguifhed rankf 
 among the advantages of Solitude, provided we. 
 manage this powerful paflion in fuch a manner that 
 it may contribute to our happinefs. 
 
 Love aflcciates itfelf v/illii^gly with the afpe^Ti:- 
 of beautiful nature. The fentiments excited by the- 
 view .of a ple;\fing profp^ct iflipire the teader iieait. 
 
26o The Infittence of Solitude* 
 
 with Icve, acd in a higher degree than any ctfier 
 agreeal^le t motion of the mind. The female bofcm 
 becomes more fufceptibie under the filent (hades, 
 upon the fumraitof a lofty mnmitaiii, or, moreef- 
 pechiliy, dariiig the itilinefs- of a frae night ; and as a 
 violent emoti:-n aiways operates more forcibly upon ' 
 the weakeft parts, enthufiafm, fooaer or laier, draws 
 sfiJe and fubjugates the heart. 
 
 Women mcll certainly feel with more exqui- 
 fite fenffbility than men, the pure and tranquil plea- 
 fures of rural life. I'hey enjoy in a much higher 
 degree the beauties of a lonely walk, the frefhnefs 
 of a fnadyibreft ; and their minds admire with high- 
 er ecftacy the charms and grandeur of nature. 
 There are manyboicnis apparently infenfible in the 
 atmofphere of a metropolis, which would, perhaps^ 
 open ihemfelves with rapture m the country. This 
 is the reafon why the return of Spring fills every ten- 
 der breaft with Love. What can more refemble 
 Love,'' faid a celebrated German PhiMbpher, 
 than the feeling with which my foul is infpired at 
 the fight of this magnificent valley thus illumined by 
 the ferting fun 
 
 Rouifeau felt an inexpreiTihle pleafure on view- 
 ing the early blcjjToms of the fpring : the arrival of 
 that feafon gave new life to his mind. The tender 
 inclinations of his fcul increafed at the fight of a rich 
 carpet of verdure ; the charms of his mifirefs and 
 the beauties of the Ipring were in his eyes the famie 
 thing. His oppreffed heart was relieved by an ex- 
 tenfive and pleafmg profpe^l ; and his relpiration 
 was much eafier while he indulged himfelf among 
 the flowers cf the garden, or the fruits of the or- 
 chard. 
 
 Lovers arebfH: pleafed with retired fituatlons ; 
 they feek the quietude of fcKtaiy places to re%n 
 themfelves to the contemplation of the onfy ohje£l' 
 f^r whom they wifn to live. Of what importance 
 s^re all the tranfacticn-s of cities to them, or any 
 
Ihe Influence of ^ditiidc, ^6l 
 
 thing indeed that d.-es not brer.the or infpire the 
 paflion of love ? Obfcure chambers, blacks forefis 
 ofiirs, cr lonelv lakes, where i hey may indulge 
 their ftivoritc reflections, are the only coiitidants of 
 thrir fouls. Forcfls filled with gloomy fnades, and 
 echoing to the tremendous er:gie's cry, are the fume 
 to their minds as th; iiveliefl: champaign country, 
 where a lovely (hepherdefs m.ay be iten ollering her 
 fopLering; bofom to t.ie i :fant me is nurnng, while 
 at her fide her well-bsbv^d partner fits, dividing 
 with her his morfelof hard black bread, a hundred 
 times more happy than ail the fops of the town. A 
 maa of fenf^, when m love, feels in a higher degree 
 all that is elevated, pleafant, and aifcfting in na- 
 ture. Nothing in the world creates a finer fenfibil- 
 ity, even when the mind is de^itute of it by nature, 
 than love. 
 
 The foftefl: images of love fpring up anew in 
 SDli'ude. Ah ! h.ov/ indelible are the impreffions 
 made by the firft blufh of Icve, the iirri: prellure cf 
 the hand, the firft feelings cf anger againft the im- 
 pertinent intruder who ffiall interrupt the tender in- 
 tercourfe ! It has been frequently conceived, that 
 time extinguiihes the flame which love has crxe 
 lighted in cur brealis ; but love has agents in the 
 foul that lie long conceahd, who wait only for a 
 proper moment to difplay their power. It is the 
 fame with the whole courfe of youthful feelings, 
 and efpecially wiih every remembrance of our firft 
 affection ; delicious rccolledlion I which we love lb 
 fondly to trace back in our minds. 
 
 The impreilion is indelible, the bofom forever 
 retains a fenfe of that highefl ecflacy of love, which 
 a connoiifeur kas f lid, with as much truth as ener- 
 gy, proclaims for the firlt time that happy difcovery, 
 that fortunare moment, when two lovers perceive 
 their mutual fondnefs.* 
 
 * No perfon has dcfcribed the recoHcd^ion of that preciou> m.'^« 
 fn.?nt with fo aiucli harmony, fvveetncJs, tsniersefs, and lenitment. 
 
262 The Ivjluencc of Solitude* 
 
 A mind fond of r.:f]r<rting in retirement on the 
 pafTic^n of love, and which hasNixperienced its plen- 
 iures, feels again in thefe ever-recurring thouglTtS| 
 the mcft delicious eDj .yments. Herder fays, '^hcf 
 dees nor. know who t -e peopb in Afia were, whofe 
 mythciogy thus d Aided the epochs of the moil re-' 
 mote antiquity : that men, once more become ce* 
 ■hflial fpirits, were imraewHately beloved tluring 
 thouf.md years, fiiil byi.:oks, then by a kifs, after- 1 
 wards by alliance." This was the r:ohle and fuh-1 
 iime pafiion which Wiehnd felt during the v/arnieltl 
 moments of his youth f:r a hdy cf Zurich, hand- 
 fome, amiable and fenOble; for that great genius 
 well knew that the my fiery of l:^ve begins in the firil: 
 ligh, and expires., in a certiiin degree, with the (Iril 
 kits. I therefore one day aiked this young lady 
 v/heii Wieland had killed her for the-firft lime. 
 
 Wieland,'' replied the lovely girl, " kiifed my 
 hand for the firii: time four years after cur acquaint- 
 ance commenced.'^ 
 
 But the mhids of young perfons who live in re- 
 tirement, do not, like Wieland, ieize on the myilic 
 rtlinements of love. Liftecing attentively to all 
 thofe fentiments which the pafTions infpire, lefs fa- 
 miliar with their abftra6tions, their minds feldcrn 
 taken off by other ideas, they feel at a much earlier 
 age, in the' tranquillity of SoUtude, that irrefniible 
 impulfe to the union of the iexes vv^iiich naiure in- 
 fpires. A lady cf my acquaintance who lived upon 
 the banks cf the lake of Geneva in fjlent Solitude, 
 and feparated from ail connexion with the world, 
 had three daughters, br/wes pifiUKUSy all of tkem ex- 
 tremely beautiful in their perions, and equally ami- 
 able in thtir manners. When the cidefx was about 
 fourteen years cf age, and the yourgeil was about 
 Line, they were preiVnt^d v;ith a tame bird, which 
 
 as Rouff.iau, *' Precious nicinentf, (o much legretted ! O ! begin 
 again v -iu .Jeli^htlul courfe ] flow on \v!ch longer duration in my le- 
 iiieiabrdnce, it ic be pcilibie, than yoiA did in rcail'^^y m yjur fu^jiti^* 
 tucccfiion— — 
 
Th Influence ofSylifude, 26-^^ 
 
 kopped and flew about their chamber the whole day. 
 The young ladies required no otlier amufement, 
 fought no other employment, except ihat of placing 
 themfelves on their knees, acd wi<h unwearied de- 
 light oilering their Icveiy little favorite a piece of 
 ?->iicuit from their fingers fc>r hours logether, in or- 
 der to lure him to their bpfonis. The bird, how^ev^ 
 er, the moment he had got the b/Jcuit, with cunning 
 coynefs difappointed their expectations, and hopped 
 away. The bird died. A year after this event, 
 theyonngefl: of the three fillers faid to her mother, 
 O, the dear little bird, mamrnat if we could but 
 j^rocurefuch another No," replied the c-ldefc^ 
 
 lifter, " wl>at I fn oiild hke better than any thing in 
 the world;, is a Utile dog. We may at leaft be able 
 to touch, to hug, to take a Utile dog upon one's 
 knees ; but a bird is gocd for nothing : he perches 
 a little while on your n ^ger, flies away, and there 
 is CO catching him again. But with a Uttle dog, O 
 what feUcity !" 
 
 I fhail never forget the poor religlciife in whofe 
 apartment I found a breeding-cage or canary-birds ; 
 nor forgive myfclf for having burll into a fit of 
 laughter at the fight of this aviary. AL^s !^ it was 
 the fuggeftion cfmUure, and vvho cao refifc what 
 nature fuggefts ? This myftic wandering of religious 
 minds, tHs celeftial epilepfy of love, this premature 
 fruit of Solitude, is only the fond application of 
 one natural incUnation raifed fupedor to all the 
 ethers. 
 
 Abfence and tranquilUty appear fo favorable 
 to the pallion of love,^ that lovers frequently chufe 
 to quit the beloved obje£l, and to reReft in SoUtude 
 on her cliHrmr. Who does not recoil eel to have 
 read in the Cr-nfelTions of RoulTeau the fi:cry rela- 
 ted by Madame de Luxembourg, of the man who 
 quitted the company of his miftrefs only that he 
 lYiight have the pleaiiire of writing to her ! Rouffeaii 
 toid Madame de Luxembourg that he v/ifhed he had 
 
s64 The h^ucncc of Solitude, ^ 
 
 been that man ; and he was right. In fa£l, who has 
 ever loved, and does not know, that there are times 
 when the pen exprelTes the feeUr.gs af the hesrt in- 
 finitely better than the voice with its raiferable organ 
 of rpsech, which is nothing, and exprelfes nothing ? 
 Who is ever more eloquent than lovers in thofe mc- 
 nients of cclkcy v;hen they gaze on each other and 
 are iilcnt ? 
 
 Lovers not only feel higher ecflacies, but ex- 
 prefs their fentiments with greater happinefs, in Sol- 
 iiude than in any o^her fituation. "^/v hat f?.lhionable 
 lover has ever painted hi? p;:ffioa for an imperious 
 nsiftrefs with rhe lame felicity as the chorifir-r of a 
 village in Hanover for a young and be^utif jl coun- 
 try girl ? Od her death, the c horiiler laifed in the 
 cem.etery cf the cathedral a fepulchral ilone to her 
 memory, and carvirg in an artlefs manner the figure 
 cf a role on its front, infcribed thefe words under- 
 ilCUfh : " Cc/l mnjl qiHeUcfutr 
 
 It was under the rocks of Vauclufc, or in de- 
 farts i till m':^re folitary, that Petrarch compofed his 
 finerl ionnets, deplnriiig the abfence, or complaining 
 of t-e cruelty, of hir, beloved Laura. In the opin- 
 ic n of the ItGli^.ns, Petrarch wrote better upon the 
 fuhjc-cl of love than eiU the other poets in the world 
 before or fine 3 his time, whether in the Greek, 
 Latin, or Tufcan hngu-^ges. " Ah ! that pure and 
 te.:ider language nf the he.^rt !'* f ly they ; nobo- 
 dy p fTelled any knov/ledgeof it but Petrarch, who 
 added to the three Graces a fourth, viz. the Grace 
 of delicacy." 
 
 But in lonely Cruatlons, in old romantic caf- 
 tles, \-?) the hea' fd im^lnatioa of impetuous youth, 
 Icve alfo freqiieally afuimes a more outre and ex- 
 tr ivng^mt ch-an;.61:er. lb warm., cnthufiaPdc minds, 
 religion, love and melancholy, make a fubiime and 
 whi^^fical compound of the feelings of the heart. 
 An ardent young man, when he is mclined that his 
 miitiiefs fhould ferious, talces froiii the Apcca 
 
TA? Infuence 6f Soiifude, 
 
 iypfe the teist of his firft declaration of love ; for 
 love, he exclaims, is but an eternal melaflcholy, 
 and when he is inclined to fliarpen the dart with- 
 in his breaft, his exalted imagination views the be- 
 loved ohjecl: as the faireft model of divine perfeclion. 
 
 Our iwo angels, in their ancient cafllc, no long- 
 er love like fonls lefs pure and noble ; their fenti- 
 nients more refined, are alfo more fublime. Sur- 
 rontjded by rocks, and impreffed by the fleece of a 
 fine night, the beloved youth is not only a man, 
 kind, rational and honeft, he is a God.* ' The in- 
 ipired mind of the fond female fancies her bofom to 
 be the fan£luary of Tove, and conceives her affeiSlion 
 for the youthful idol of her heart to be an emana- 
 tion from heaven, a ray of the divinity itfelf. Or- 
 dinary lovers, without doubt, in fpite of abfence, 
 unite their fculs with each other, write by every 
 poft, feize all occafions to converfe with each other, 
 or to hear each other fpeak ; but our female, more 
 fublime, more exalted, introduces into her romance 
 all tha butterflies flie meets with, all the feathered 
 fongfters of the groves ; and, except perhaps her 
 huiband, (he no longer fees any thing in the v/orld 
 fuch as it is. The fenfes are nothing ; refinement 
 directs all her movements. She tears the world from 
 its poles, and the lun from its axis, to prove that all 
 (he does, all (he wiihes, is right. She edablifhes a 
 new gofpel and a new fyflem of morality for herfelf 
 and her lover. Thefe effects of love cannot be 
 avoided by any of the advantages of Solitude* 
 Love, even of die moll tranquil kind, that fpecies 
 which lies filent in the bresft, which does not raiie 
 cliimeras in the mind, which does not refign itfelfto 
 the delirium of an ardent imagination, and which fs 
 
 * ** When the paflion of love is at its height," fays RoufTeau, ^' it 
 arrays the-faeloTcd objeft in every poffible perfeftion ; "makes itanidol, 
 places it in Heaven ; and as tlie enthufiafm of devotion borrows the 
 langua^-e of iove, the enthuliafm of love alfo borrows the language of 
 devotion. The lover beholds nothing but paiadife, angels, tiie virtue 
 '•offaiftcs, and the felicities of Heaven." 
 
 (SXill) 
 
.2t><^ The Influence cf Sditude. 
 
 not carried into thefe exceHes, in time confames the 
 lover, and renders him miferable. Occupied by the 
 idea of one object, whom we adore beyond all oth- 
 ers, all the faculties of the foul become abforbed, 
 and we abandon a world which for us no longer 
 poflefles any charms. But when we find curfelves 
 feparated for ever from the lovely object who has 
 made even the higheft facriiices to us in her power ; 
 who adminiilered confolation under all the afflidions 
 of cur lives, afforded happinefs under the greateft 
 calamities, and fupported us when all the powers of 
 the foul had abandoned us ; who continued a fin- 
 cere friend when every other friend had left us, when 
 oppreiTed bydomeftx forrows, when rendered inca- 
 pable of either thought or action ; then to languifh 
 m a llothfui SoUtude becomes our only pleafure. 
 The night is faffed in fleeplefs agonies ; while a dif- 
 guft of life, a defire of death, an abhorrence of all 
 fociety, and a love of the moft frightful defarts, 
 prey upon the heart, and drive us, day after day, 
 wandering, as chance may dire<51:, through the moil 
 folitary retirements, far from the hateful traces of 
 mankind. Were we, however, to wander from the 
 Elbe to the Lake of Geneva, to feek relief from the 
 north to the weft, even to the fhorcs of the fea, we 
 inould fxill be like the hind defcribcd in Virgil, 
 
 SiruDg with the ftroke, and madding with the pain, 
 SKe wildly flies from wood to wood in irain ; 
 Shoots o'er the Cretan lawns with many a bound, 
 'i'he cleaving dart llill rankling in the wound 1"' 
 
 ViRHiL, Book IV. line II0« 
 
 Petrarch experienced the accumulated torments 
 of love in his new refidence at Vauclufe. Scarcely 
 had he arrived there, when the imrge of Laura in- 
 ceffantly haunted his mind. He beheld her at all 
 times, in every place, under a tiioufand different 
 forms. " Three times,^' fays he, " in the dead of 
 night, when every door was clofed, fhe appeared to 
 me at the feet of my bed with a certain look which 
 
The Lifuence of Solitude, 267 
 
 announced the power of her charms. Fear fpread 
 a chilling dew over all my limbs. My blood thrill- 
 ed through my veins towards my heart. If any cne 
 had then entered my room with a candle, they would 
 have beheld me as pale as death, with every mark 
 of terror in my face. Before day break I role trem- 
 bling from my bed, and haflily leaving my houie, 
 where every thing excited alarm, I climbed to the 
 fammit of the rocks, ran through the woods, caft- 
 ing my eyes continually around to fee if the form 
 that had difturbed my repofe ftill purfued me. I 
 could find no afylum : in the moft fequeftered pla- 
 ces where I flattered myfelf that I ihould be alone, 
 I frequently faw her ifTuing from the trunk of a tree, 
 from the head of a clear Ipriog, from the cavity of 
 a rock. Fear rendered me inlenlible, and I neither 
 knew what 1 did nor where I went." 
 
 To an imagination Tubje<fl to fuch violent con^- 
 vulfions, Solitude affords no remedy ; Ovid, there" ^ 
 tbre, has very juftly fald, 
 
 But Solitude rauft never be allow'd : 
 
 A lover's ne'er To fafe as in a crowd ; 
 
 For private places private grief incieafe ; 
 
 What haunts you there, in company will ceale. 
 
 If to th-^ gloomy de( rt ypu repair, 
 
 Your miliiels' angry form will meet you there." 
 
 Ovi d's RaneJy of Lovei 
 
 Pet**arch Ic-arnt from the firfl emotions of his 
 palTion, how ufelefs are all attempts to fly from 
 love ; and he fought the rocks and forefts in vain. 
 
 There is no place, however favage and forlorn^ 
 where Icve will not force its way. 'llie pure and 
 limpid fiream of Vauclufe, the fiiady woods adorn- 
 ing ihe little valley in wl ich the fiream arofe, ap- 
 peared to him the only places to abate the fierce--- 
 nefs of thofe fires which confumed his hearr. The 
 moft frightful defarts, the decpefl forefts, mouu- 
 tains almofl inaccelTible, were to him the mcfc agree- 
 able abodes. But love purfued his fl^ps wherever 
 
26 S The Influence of Solitude. 
 
 be \-v^nt, and left him no place of refuge. His wholcr 
 foul flaw back to Avignon. 
 
 Solitude alfo affords no remedy for love when 
 it is injurious to Virtue. To an honeft mind the 
 prelence of the beloved obje£t is never dangerous^ 
 iikhough the pafTion may have taken a criminal turn 
 in the heart. On the contrary, while abfence and 
 Solitude foment all the fecret movements of the fen- 
 fes and the imagination, the fight of the beloved 
 cbjecl deftroys, in a \ irtucus breaft, every forbid- 
 ceii defire ; for in abfence the lover thinks him- 
 itlf fecure, and confequently indulges his imagina* 
 tion witi^ut relb-aint. Solitude, more than any oth- 
 er fituation, recalls to ihe mind e^^ery voluptucua 
 idea, every thing that animates defire and inflames 
 the heart : no danger being apprehended, the lov- 
 er walks boldly on in the flattering paths of an 
 agreeable illufion, until the paflion acquires a dan- 
 gerous empire in his breaft. 
 
 The heart of Petrarch was frequently flimula- 
 ted by ideas of voluptuous plealiire, evfo among 
 the rocks of Vauclufe, where he fought an afylum 
 from Icve and Laura.* But he foon banifhed fen- 
 
 * V/€ read in a variety of books, now no longer known* that Pe- 
 trarch lived at Vauclufe with Laura, and that ha had formed a fub- 
 jterraneoud paffage from her houfe to his own. Petrarch was not fo 
 happy, Laura was married, and lived with her hufband, I-luguss de 
 Sadec, St Avignon, the place of her nativity and where /he died. She 
 was the mother of eleven children, which had fo debilitated her confti- 
 tution, that at five-and-thirty yeais of age, no traces of her former 
 beauty remained. She experienced, aUb, many domeftic forrows. Her 
 .aulhind was incapable of appreciating the value of her virtues, and the 
 wopricty of her c«ndu£t. He was jealous without caufe, and evea 
 withaut love, which, in a woman, was ftill more moitifying. Pr- 
 uarch, on the contraiy, loved Laura during thecourfe of twenty years j 
 iiiutjae was not f'iffeved to vifit her at her own houfe ; for her hufoand 
 ^lidotn, if ever, left her alone. He, therefore, had no opportunity of 
 beholding his charming, iiis amiable Laura, except at church, at af- 
 iemblies^ or upon tiie public walks, and then never abne.— -Her hufband 
 fieqaently forbid her to walk even with her deareft friends, asd his 
 Tnind was rendered furious whenever flis indulged in the flighteft plea- 
 Hure. Laura was born in the year 1307 or 1308, and was two or three 
 "ears younger than Petraicb.- She died of the plague in the year 1348. 
 Seven ypars after her death her hufband married again, and i'etraicli 
 4jiviv£dh€i p'ucutthe cemrae.': cement of the vear 1374. 
 
Iiifluence cf Sdiiiulf* 76^ 
 
 !'i?.irty from his mind: the pafllon of his foul then 
 became refined, and acquired that vivacity and hea- 
 venly purity which breathe in every hne of tho(e 
 immortal lyrics he compofed upon the rock?. I'he 
 city of Avignon, where his Laura refiied, was-» 
 however, too near to him, and he vifited it too fre- 
 quently. A love like his never leaves the heart 
 one moment of tranquillity ; it is a fever of the foul, 
 I which affli^ls the body with a complication of the 
 1 moft painful diforders. Let a lover, therefore, 
 ' while his mind is yet able to controul the emotions 
 of his heart, feat himfelf on the banks of a rivulet, 
 and think that his pnffion, like the ftreara which 
 now precipitates irfelf with noile down the rock^j^ 
 Riay in peaceful (hades and folitar^'- bowers How 
 acrofs the meadows and the plains in filence and 
 tranquillity. 
 
 Love unites itfe^.f to tranquillity when the mind 
 fiibmits v.hh hnmjJir\'' to all the difpenfations of 
 Heaven. If, when death bereaves a lover of the 
 ohje^ of his affection, he is unable to live, excepfc 
 in thofe places where Ihe was ufed to dwell, and all 
 the world befides looks defart and forlorn, death 
 alone can flop the torrent of his tears. But is it 
 not by yielding himfelf to the prefTure of his alHic- 
 tion, that he can be faid to devote himfelf to God. 
 The lover, when opprelTed by forrow, conftantly 
 attaches himfelf to the obje6l hich is no more, and 
 never can return. He feeks for what he cannot 
 find ; he hftens, but hears nothing he fancies that 
 he beholds the lovely form alive and breathing, . 
 when it is only a phantom, a vifionary produdioa 
 of his heated imagination. He gathers rofes from 
 the tomb of her on whom all the happinefs of his 
 iife depended ; he waters them with his tears, cul- 
 tivates them with the tendereft care, places them 
 in his bofom, kifTes them with rapture, and enjoys ' 
 their foothing fragrance with melancholy tranfport ; 
 but ih^k nleafures alfo vanifh ; the rofes drcop thdr - 
 (XXllI 2) 
 
27* The Ihfiience of SoTitude^ 
 
 heads and die. It is not until the lover hasrlbng: 
 wreflled wiih the rigors of fate, until the arms have 
 long been in vain extended to embrace the beloved 
 ©bjeft, until the eye has long fixed its viev/ upon 
 the eherifhed fhade, until all hope of re-union is 
 gone, that the mind begins gradually to feel its re- 
 turning powers, aflumes an heroic courage agairft 
 its misfortune, endeavors to conquer the weaknefs 
 of the heart, and perceives the return of its former 
 tranquillity. Thefe cures, however, can only be 
 effeded in vigorous minds, v/ho alone crown what- 
 ever they undertake, with fuccels : vigorcrus minds 
 alone find in Sohtude that peace which the whole 
 Bniverfe, with all its pleafures and difFipaiion, can- 
 Bot procure. 
 
 The victory which the virtuous Petrarch ac- 
 quired over the paffion which afiailed his hearty 
 mufl afford pleafore to every mind. When he fought 
 refuge ia Italy from Icve and Laura^ his friends in 
 France ufed every endeavor to induce him to re- 
 turn. One of them wrote to him : — " What dae- 
 mon pofiefTes you ? How could you quit a country 
 where y«u have enjoyed all the delights of youth, 
 and where that graceful pei fon which you former- 
 ly adorned with to much care, procured you fo ma- 
 ny pleafures ? How can you live thus exiled ivom 
 your Liura, v/hom you love v/ith lb much tender- 
 nefs, and whofe heart is lo deeply aiiiided by your 
 abience V 
 
 Petrarch replied : — " Your anxiety is vain ; 
 my refolution is to continue w^here I am. I am 
 here at anchor ; and neitiier the impetuofity of the 
 Pvhone, nor- the charms of your eloquence, fh:all ev- 
 er drive me from it. To perfuade me to change 
 this relblution, you place before my eyes the devi- 
 ations of ray youth, v/hich I ought to forget ; a 
 paflion V hicli left me no other relburce than a pre- 
 cipitate flight, a'jd the contemptible merit of a hand- 
 fome peribn, which too long occupied myatteation» 
 
The Influence of Solitiule* 
 
 The period is arrived, when I muft no longer think 
 of thofe ibllies ; I have left them bei ind me ; and 
 I rapidly approach to the end of my career. My 
 mind is now occupied by more ferious and impor- 
 tant obje<5i:s. God forbid, that liftening to your 
 flattering counfel, i fhould again throw mvfelf into 
 the fnares of love; again put on a yoke I have al- 
 ready fo feverely felt I It was conlifbent with the age 
 of youth, but I ftiould now bluih to be a fubjeft of 
 converfation to«he world, and to fee myfelf painted 
 at as I walked along. 1 confider all your folicita- 
 tions, and, indeed, all you tell me, as a fevere crit- 
 ique upon my conduct. My love of Solitude takes 
 root in this place ; I fly from town, and ftroll at 
 random about the fields, without care, without in- 
 quietude. In fummer I flretch myfelf beneath the 
 fhade upDU the verdant turf, or launter on the bor- 
 ders of a purling ftream, an J defy the heats of Ita- 
 ly. On the approach of autumn I feek the woods,- 
 and join the mufes' train. This mode of life appears 
 to rae preferable to a life at court — a life occupied 
 only by ambition and envy. I walk with pleafure 
 on the plains of Italy ; the air of tfie climate is to 
 me ferene and pure. When death fnall put a peri- 
 od to my labors, 1 only afk the confolation of rep:?- 
 fing my head upon the bofom of a friend, whofe 
 eyes, while he clofes mine, will deplore my lofs, and 
 whofe kind care will convey me to a tomb in the 
 bofom of my country." 
 
 Thefe were the fentiments, the philofophical 
 fsntiments of Petrarch ; but he returned foon after- 
 wards to Avignon, from whence he continued from 
 time to time to vifit Vauclufe. 
 
 Petrarch himfelf acknowledged, with that 
 fi-anknefs which was natural to his character, how 
 much his unfettled foul wavered between love and 
 reafon. From his retirement at Vauclufe, he wrote 
 to his friend Pallrengo : — " Perceiving that there is' 
 CO other way to eifeit my cure thaa to abandon: 
 
i,.7 « "^^^^ Influence of SoIiiuch\ 
 
 Avi,2;non, I have determined to leave it, notwith'- - 
 ilandlng all the eff:rts of my friends to detaia me. - 
 Aks ! their friend (h ip only tends to render me un- 
 happy ! 1 fought this Solitude as an afj^lum againft 
 the tempers of life, and to live here yet a httle wrile 
 retired and alone before I die. I already perceive 
 that I am near rny end ; but I feel with infinite 
 pieafure that my mind is much more free ; and the 
 life which I lead here appears to me hke that of the 
 happy in heaven. Oblerve, how.^ver, the preva- 
 lence of habit; and the force of pailion ; for with- 
 out having any bufinefs 1 frequently return to that 
 hateful city. 1 run voluntarily into the fame fnares ^ 
 by which I was firfl caught. An adverfe wind drives 
 me from the port x\ hich I have entered, upon that 
 troubled ocean where I have lO frequently bren (hip- 
 wrecked. I am no fooner there than 1 feel ray felf 
 in a velTel tolled about by the tempeft. I perceive 
 the heavens on fire, the fea raging, and dangers fur- 
 roimding me on every fide. Death prefents u felf 
 to my eyes ; but what is fbill worfe than death, I 
 turn from my piefent life with averfioD, and dread 
 that which is to come.^^ 
 
 Paftrengo replied as a friend, who knew not 
 cnly what Petrarch praftifed, but the kind of fen- 
 liments which would make him feel that which he 
 was defghted to perform " It is with pleafure I 
 learn," fays he, that you have burft open the 
 doors of your prifon, fhaken off your chains, and 
 let ycurfelf free ; that after a violent tempeit you 
 have at laft reached the port you wifhed to gain, 
 and ride fafe in the harbor of quiet life. I can at ' 
 this diftance difcover every thing you do, day after 
 day, in your retreat at Vauclufe. At the earlieft' 
 dawn of day, awakened by the warblers of your 
 groves, and the murmurs of your fpring, ycu climb 
 the hills yet covered with the dev/, and from thence 
 view the fertile plains, the cultivated vallies, fmiling 
 at ycur feet j - difcovcringj now and then, the dii- 
 
The Influence of Solifulu 273" 
 
 tant fea bearing the freighted veffels to their portsr^ 
 The tablets are reiidy in your hand, to note down 
 the thoughts which fill your mind. When the fun 
 rifes above the horizon, you feek ycur humble cot-, 
 partake of a frugal repall, and enjoy undifturbed 
 repofe. To avoid the meridian heat of the day, you 
 retire into the vales, virhere your delightful ipring, 
 precipitating over the rocks with echoing founds, 
 pours forth its wandering ftream, and forms the 
 charming river which fertilizes the valley of Vau- 
 clufe. 1 fee the cavern through which the water, 
 fometimes low and tranquil, enters, and where^ 
 e ven in the hotteft day of fummer, there breathes fa 
 . frefh an air. Within the (hades of that grotto, 
 .whofe arched and lofty roof hangs over the moving 
 I cryiial of the flream, I perceive you fitting, gnjoy- 
 j ing with raviihed eyes the enchanting view which 
 I lies before you : your imagination warms, your 
 ! foul takes its intelle6i:ual flight, and then you pro- 
 duce your choiceft works. Thus retired, you con- 
 fider all the vanities of this world as a lignt (hadow 
 Wiuch has p?.fl£d away, and quietly renounce them 
 to a more ufeful employment ©f your time. Whea 
 you quit the grotto your tablets are full. Do nor, 
 however, flatter yourfelf that ycu alone eisjoy thefe 
 treafures of your foul ; for mine, which never quits 
 you, participates with you in this ufeful and agree- 
 able enjoyment.'* 
 
 Such was the felicity which Petrarch tafted at 
 Vauclufe, in the midi^ of fo many dangers ; a feh-. 
 ■ city which Love, too impatient for enjoym,ent, can 
 never confer : but Sohtude, judicioufly employed, 
 diffipates all the pangs with which this paflion tears 
 the heart, and alf ords a com.penfation for thefe plea- 
 fures which it takes away. Nor are all the confcLi- 
 tions of life loit in Solitude to the bofom of an un- 
 happy lover. He contemplates without regret the 
 paft pleafures of love ; thofe fhort-lived pleafures 
 which can no more return. The time arrives whea 
 
274 '^^^ Influence of Mittm. 
 
 he ceafes to weep and fuffer, and on t^e bed of 
 death he exclaims with a tranquil figh, O ! love-t 
 ly objed: of my foul ! if you fhould learn my fatey^ 
 a love like mine may well deferve ihe tribute of 
 tear, and c?Jl one gentle figh from your relenting] 
 heart. Forget my faults, and while my virtues live^ 
 let my follies die within your bofomi" 
 
 It was thus in ftruggling rgainft the prevalence 
 of his pafTioD, that Petrarch role to that fublimity, 
 and acquired that richnefs of imagination, wfeich dil- 
 tinguifhed ins charafter. He acquired, even at this 
 period, an afcendancy over the age in which he liv- 
 ed, greater than any individual has fmce, in any 
 country b:en able to obtain. His mind palTed with 
 the happieft facility from grave to gay fubjedls ; 
 and he wus enabled, when occafion required it, to 
 adopt the boldeft refolutions, and perform the moft 
 courageous actions. Petrarck, v/ho at the feet cf 
 women wept, fighed, and fobbed like a cV ild ; who 
 cnly wrote on Laura the fcft and languifning verfes 
 which his paflion infpired ; no foor.er turned his eyes 
 towards Rome than his fbyle alTumed a bold and 
 manly tone, and his letters were written v»iih all the 
 fti-^rgih and fpirit of the Auguftan age. Mon- 
 archs,* while they read his lyric poetry, have for- 
 got the calls of hunger and the channs of fleep. At 
 a more advanced pericd of his fJ'e, however, he 
 v/p.s no longer the iighing mufe of love, who only 
 chaunted amorous verfes at the feet of his lelentlei's 
 miftrefs ; he was no longer an efFemin«te ilave, who 
 killed the chains of an imperious female, from whom 
 he only received marks of contempt and averfion \ 
 but with a republican intrepidiiy Petrarch regene- 
 i-ated the love of liberty throughout Italy, and found- 
 ed the ^iarm agaicft tyranny and tyrants. A great 
 Ratefmac, a profound and judicious misiiler, he was 
 
 * Robert, King ofNaples, frequently relinquiflied the moil ferl- 
 ous affairs to read the works of t^etrar«b^ wkhout thinking either o* 
 hia meals or -his beds 
 
Pl^^^. The hjliience cf ScUtudc, 27^ 
 
 ■coinmiially confaltcd upon the mr^fl important af- 
 fairs then tranfacling in Europe, and frequently em- 
 ployed in the moit arduous negociations. A zeal- 
 ous friend to humanity, he endeavored upon all oc- 
 cafioDS to extinguiih the torch cf difcord. Poflefl- 
 ing an extraordinary genius, the greatefl Princes lo- 
 Hcited his com.pany, endeavored to form their minds 
 from his cpinioDS, and dudied from his precepts the 
 great art of rendering the'r fubjects happy. 
 
 By thefe trai's we diicover that Petrarch, nct- 
 withflanding the violence of his paiTion, enjoyed all 
 the advantages of Solitude. His viiits to Vauclufe 
 were not, as is generally conceived, that he might 
 be nearer to Laura ; for Laura refided altogether at 
 Avignon : but that he might avjid the frowns of 
 his miftrefs, and rhe c{j rruptions of the Court. Seat- 
 ed in h's f.ttle garden, which was ftuated at the 
 toot of a lofty mountain, and furrounded by a rap- 
 id ftream, his foul rofe fupei^i^r to the adverfities of 
 his tate. He polTeired indeed, by nature, a reftlcfs 
 and unquiet miad ; was freque ntly dilpleafed be- 
 caufe he v/as not at fcm.e difiiint place, to which it 
 was imprffihle he could ever go ; frequently bs- 
 caufe he hoked in vaia for fomething which it was 
 impoflible he fhould find. Petrarch, in fhort, pof- 
 lefied all thofe defects which generally accompany 
 men of genius. But in his moments of tranquillity, 
 a found judgment, joined to an exquTre feniibility, 
 enabled him to enjoy the delights of Solitude fupe- 
 rior to any mortal that ever exifted, either before or 
 fmce his time ; and in thefe moments Vauclufe w^as, 
 to his feelings, the temple cf Peace, the refidence 
 of calm repofe, a fafe harbor againft all the tempers 
 cf the foul. 
 
 Solitude therefore, although it canno"" always 
 conquer love, refines and fanfiifies the E"of ardent 
 flame. The palTions wTach the Gcd of nature or- 
 ginally planted in the heart of man, ought to re-- 
 main undeftroyed within his bre;u^, but he fnould 
 
27^ The hfiiaKC of Bolkiiile* 
 
 leara to direct them to their proper ends. If, there-a 
 fore, 3^011 are inclined to be h?-pnier than Pefrarch,i| 
 Orare the pleafures of your retirement with {bma 
 ;imiable character, who, better than the cold pre- 
 cepts of philcfcphy, will beguile or banifh by the 
 charms of ccn variation ail the cares and torments of 
 life. A truly wife man has faid, that the prefe nee 
 of one thinking being like ourfelves, whole bofcm 
 -glows with fympathy and love, fo far from dcflroy- 
 ing the advantag:es of Solitude, renders them raore 
 iavorable. If, like me, you ov/e your hippinefs to 
 tlie fond affection of a wife, (he will foon induce 
 you to forget the fociety of men, by a tender and 
 tmreferved communication of every (entiment of her 
 mind, of every fecret fecliiig of her heart ; and the 
 employments, the bufmcfs, the vicilTiludes of hfe 
 will render, by their variety, the fubje^l.^ of confi- 
 dential difcourie and fweet dvomeftic converfe pro- 
 portionably diverf fied. The orator who Ipeaks up- 
 on this fubje^l with fo much truth and eneigy, rniit 
 have felt with exquiiite fenftbility the pleaiures of 
 domeiiic happinefs. — Here," fiiys he, " every 
 kind exprefiion is remembered ; the emotions cf one 
 heart re-a£i:s v/ith corrtfpon dent effedts upon the 
 other ; every thought is treafured up ; every tefci- 
 mony of affe6licn returned ; the happy pair enjoy ^ 
 in each ether's company all the pleaiures of the 
 mind, and ihere is no feeling which does not com.- ; 
 municate itfelf to their hearts. To beings thus uni- 
 ted by the fincereft affeQ:icn and the clofefi: friend- 
 fnip, every thing that is laid or done, every wifh and 
 every event becomes mutually important. Beings 
 thus united, and they alone, regard the advantages 
 which they feverally polfefs, with a joy and fatisfac- 
 lion untinctured by envy. It is only under fuch an 
 union that faults are pointed out with cautious ten- 
 dernefs, and without ill nature ; tha': looks befpeak 
 the inclinations of the foul ; that the gratification of 
 ^very wiih and delire is anticipated ; that ever/ 
 
Ths l7:JJu^}hV of Soiituilc, 27 7 
 
 view aud inrention is affimilated : that the fentiments 
 of the cne conform to thole of the other ; and that 
 evach rejoices wi'h cordiality at the fmalleft advan- 
 tage which the other acqivres." 
 
 Thus it is thatScHtude which wefhare with an 
 amiable obje^l: procures us tranquillity, fatisfa(5llcn, 
 heartfelt joy ; and the humbleft cottage becomes 
 the dwclling-phce of the pureft plea lure. Love io 
 - the retreats of Solitude, while the mind and the 
 heart are in harmony with each other, is capable of 
 preferving the nobleft fer.timents in the foul, of rail- 
 ing the underftanding to the higheft degree of ele-« 
 vation, of filling the bofom with new benevolence, 
 of rooting out all the feeds of vice, of ftrengtheninp; 
 and extending all the virtues^ The attacks of ill 
 humor are by this means fubdued, the violence of 
 tlie paffions moderated, and the bitter cup of afilic- 
 tion fweetened. It is thus that an happy love ren- 
 ders Solitude ferene, alleviates all the fufferings of 
 the world, and ftrews the Iweeteft flowers along the 
 paths of life. 
 
 Solitude frequently converts the deep anguifh 
 of diilrefs into a foothing melancholy. Every ihir.g 
 which operates with a gentlenefs on the foul is a 
 falutary balm to a wounded heart. This is the rea- 
 fon why every malady of the body, every fuffering 
 ^ of the mind, feels fuch fenfible efFeds frofn the con- 
 folatory exprelTions, the kind affability, the interel^- 
 ing anxieties of a viriucus wife. Difgufted, alas! 
 , by the treatment of the world, and diipleaied with 
 every thing around me ; when fatiety had weaken- 
 ed all the vigor and deftroyed every energy of my 
 ' foul , when i no long r hoped for relief ; w^hen grief 
 concealed dl the beauty of nature in^m ray eye?, 
 , and rendered the whoh univerfe a lifelefs tomb, the 
 I kind attention of a wife conveyed a fecret charm, a 
 j corfolatcrv virtue to my m.ind.' O i nothing can fo 
 I fweeily foften all our fuiferings as a convifdoa that 
 woman is not indifferent to our fate. 
 
 (XXIV) 
 
 I 
 
The Infliumce of SoIitucL'* 
 
 Rm?l fcenery, of a thcufand difFerent kinds, 
 affords to the dillraclcd boibm the fame tranquillity 
 which the attentions and converfations of an amia- 
 ble vvife procure to a fick and fuffering hufband ; 
 they change all the aiB'6tions of his foul, all the cp- 
 prefeons of his mind, into trie ibfteil forrow and the 
 mildefl p;rirf. 
 
 Solitude frequently infpires a foft mdanchaly, 
 even in per ions of the tendereft years. Young fe- 
 males from fifteen to eighteen years of age« who pof- 
 feCs fine fenfibllities and lively imaginations, expe- 
 rience tiiis difpofition, when, in the retirement of 
 rural life, they feel the firli defres of love ; when, 
 wandering every where in fearch of a beloved ob- 
 jzdi, they figh for one al .ne, although their hearts 
 have not yet fixed on any particular obje<5l of af- 
 f^6lion. I have frequently feen this fpecies of mel- 
 ancholy without any other fymptoms of malady, 
 Roufieau was attacked with it at Vevai upon the 
 banks of the Lu:e of Geneva. " My heart," fays , 
 :Iie, rufhed wirh ardor from my bofom into a 
 thoufand innocent felicities : melting to tendernefs, 
 I fighed and wept like a child. How frequently, 
 ilopping to indulge my feelings, and feating m.yfelf 
 on a piece of broken rock, did I amufe myfeif with 
 ieeing my tears drop into the dream !" I cannot 
 uiyfelf trap.fcribe ti.eie lines without fliedding tears * 
 on recolleCl:Dg, that in tiie (eventeenth year of my 
 age, I frequentlv fe:Ued myfeif with fimilar agitation 
 under the peaceful ihades of thofe delightful fhores. 
 Love relieved iiiy pains ; love, fo fweetly enjoyed 
 among the gr ;ve? which adorn the banks of the Lake 
 of Geneva love, the only difeaie which Solitude 
 
 * There is no native, or indeed a?iy perfon pofiefTing fenfibllity, 
 ©f whatever country he may be, who has ever beheld without feeling 
 the tendereft emouon, the delightful borders of the L ke of Geneva ; 
 <-he enchanting fpeclacle which nature there exhibits: and the vaftand 
 majellic horizon which thra mafs of water prefents to the view Who 
 has ever returned from this fcene without t.iunin^^ back his eyes onthis 
 if;ter;ftir>s pidt.ure, and expsviencing the fame a^^.dtion with which the 
 
The Lifuence of Sdltude, 2 79 
 
 cannot cure ; and which indeed we wiilingly endiiv2 
 without wifliing for reUef. To iiiifer with'fo much 
 foftnefs and tranquillity ; to indulge in tender for- 
 row without exadly knov/in?; why, and ilill- to pre- 
 fer retirement ; to love the lonely margin of a lim- 
 pid lake ; to wander alone upon broken rocks, in 
 deep caverns, ia dreary forefts ; to feel no pleafures 
 but in the fublime and beautiful of nature, in thcfe 
 beauties which the world defpife ; to defire the 
 company of only one other being to whom we may 
 communicate the ienfations of the foul, wdio would 
 participate in all cur pleafures, and forget every- 
 thing eife in theuniverfe ; this is a condition w^hich 
 every ycung m.an ought to wifh for, v/ho wifhes to 
 fly from the mercilefs approaches of a cold old age.* 
 
 It is not, however, to every fpecies of affliciicn 
 that Solitude will afFonl relief. O! my beloved 
 Hirclifi id ! I can n^ver refrrain my tears from flow- 
 ing with increafed abundanc?, v.'heiirver I read, iii 
 thy immortal work up.:n the pleafures cf a country- 
 life, the following aiTe cling p,'\ilage, which always 
 finks deeply into my heart : '" The tears of afflic- 
 tion dry up under tiie fj/mpathizing breath cf zeph- 
 yrs : the heart expands, and only f^els a tranquil 
 ibrrow. Tne bloom cf nature prelcnts itfelf to our 
 eyes on every fide ; and in the enjoyment of its 
 fragrance we feel relief from woe. Every fad and 
 forrowful idea gradually difappears. 1 he mind no 
 longer rejeds ccnfohtcry meditations ; and as the 
 evening fun abforbs the damp vapors of a rainy 
 day, an happy trar quiUity diflfipates the troubles of 
 the foul, and difpofes us to enjoy the peaceful charms 
 of rural life.'* 
 
 There are, ho'^/ever, bofoms fo alive to misfor- 
 tune, that the continual remembrance of thofe who 
 
 hesirt feparates from a beloved friend whom we have no expe^atioa' 
 ever to lee again ! 
 
 * This refleition of Petrarch is very afFeiVing and jufl— lllos 
 annos eg; tanta in requie, tantaque dulcedine, ut iUud feinao tempus fo- 
 lum .Kiihi vita fucrit, ieliquum omae fuppliciunic" 
 
iSo- The Influence of Solitude * 
 
 were once dear to their hearts, • preys upon thefr 
 x^itals, and by flow degrees conliimes their Uves. 
 The reading of a fingle Ime writt u by the hand 
 they ioved, freezes their blood : the very fight cf 
 the tomb which has fwallowed up the remains cf all 
 their foul held dear, is intolerable to their eyes. On 
 fuch beings, alns ? the Heavens fmile in vain. The 
 early violet and the twittering birds proclaiming, 
 with the approach of fpring, the regeneration of all 
 nature, brings no charms to them. The garden's 
 variegated : vies irritate their feeiin^^s, and they be- 
 hold Ih jfe retreats, to w' ich t: ey ^vere kindly invi- 
 ted to looth ;:he violence of their diftrefs, with hor> 
 ror during the rc-rn^iiider of their lives. They re- 
 fuC- to folio xv the coTnpafiionnte hand extended to 
 lead thsni fro in their h .-^ule of forrow to the verdant 
 plains cf happinefs and peace. Such characters gen- 
 erally pofiels Wcirin and ftrong paffions ; but ih^ 
 fmenefe cf thrir fcenn&:s becomes a real malady ; and 
 they require to be tre'ited with great attention and 
 with co-n^^ant kind^iTs. 
 
 On ti!e contrary, Solitude conveys mcft pow- 
 erful c ?rms to fofter minds, although the iofsthey 
 kave experienced may nor ha\ e been lefs. They 
 if' ] their misfortunes in liieir full extent ; but thvir 
 iedingr, partake of the tranqnilli'y cf their nature : 
 xhtv phnii upon the fatal tomb the weeping willow 
 Jind the ephemeral rofe, as flriking emblems of ihcir 
 furrow ami misfortune ; they erecl maufcleums, 
 aiid compofe feineral dirges ; their hearts are con- 
 tinuaiiy occupied by the idea of thofe whom their 
 eyes deplore, and they exift, under the fenfatioDs 
 cif the trueft and moll fmcere forrow, in a kind of 
 middle ftate between earth and heaven. Such cha- 
 racters, 1 am confcious, feel misfortunes to their full 
 extent ; but their forrows, provided they are un- 
 difturbed, appear to me of the happieft kind. I do 
 not pretend to fay their forrows are infmcere, or 
 that their grief is lefs than that of thof^ who gi\^ 
 
The Influence of SoUhide* 2^ 1 
 
 themfelves up to fits of violence, and fmk under the 
 prefiure of i heir misfortunes ; this would bs a fpecies 
 of ftupidity ; an enormity, of the confequences of 
 which I am fully fenfible : but I ^ call them happy 
 mourners, becaufe their conftitutions are fo framed, 
 that their grief and (brrow do not diminifh the force 
 and energy of their minds. They find enjoyments 
 in thofe things from which minds of a different tex- 
 ture would feel averfion. They feel celeftial joys 
 in the unceafing reccllecSlion of thofe perfjns v/hcfe- 
 lois they deplore. 
 
 Every advernty of life is much more eafily over- 
 come in Solitude than in the world, provided the 
 foul will ncbly bend its flight towards a different 
 objeft. When a man thinks that he has norefour- 
 ces but in d£fpi:iir or death, he deceives himfelf ; for 
 defpair is no refource. Let him retire to his fludy, 
 and there ferioufly trace cut the confequences of 
 fome fettled truth, and his tears will no longer fall, 
 the weight of his misfortunes will grow light, and 
 the pangs of forrow fly from his breafl:. 
 
 In Solitude the mofl: trifling emotions of the 
 heart, every appearance of domeflic felicity or rural 
 pleafu re, drives away impatience and ill humor. Ill 
 humor is an uneafy and infupportable condition, 
 which theXoui frequently falls into when foured by 
 a number of thofe petty vexations which we daily 
 experience in every flep of our progrefs through life ; 
 but we need only to fhut the door in order toavoic! 
 this fcourge of happinefs. Im.patience is a ftifled 
 anger, v/hich men filently manifefl by looks and gef- 
 tares, and weak minds ordinarily reveal by a fhow» 
 er of complaints. A grumbler is never farther from 
 his proper fphere than when he is in company ; Sol- 
 itude is his only afylum. 
 
 Vexations, however, of almofl every kind, are 
 much fooner healed in the tranquillity of retirement 
 than in the noife of the world. V/hen we have at- 
 tained a cheerful difpofiticn, and do not fuffer any 
 (XXiVi) 
 
^Z i The Influence of Solitude* 
 
 thing to thwart, reftrain or four the temper of our 
 minds ; when we have learned the art of vanquifh- 
 ing ourfelves, no worldly vexations can obliruft our 
 happinefs. The deepert melancholy and moft fet- 
 tled wearinefs of hfe have by thefe means been fre- 
 quently banifhed from the breaft. The progrefs to 
 this end is, in truth, much more rapid in women 
 than in men. The mind of a Uvely female flies im- 
 mediately to happinefs, while that of a melancholy 
 man ftill creeps on with pain- The foft bofoms of 
 the fair are eafily elevated or deprefled ; but thefe 
 effects muft be produced by means lefs abftradled 
 than Solitude ; by fometliing that will ftrike their 
 ienfes, and by their afliftance penetrate to the heart* 
 On the contrary, the mental difeafes of men aug- 
 liient by ilow degrees, take deeper root, lay ftrong^ 
 er hold cf the breaft, and to drive them away it is 
 neceffary to apply the moft efficacious remedies with 
 unfhaken confiancy ; for here feeble prefcriptions 
 are of no avail. The only chance of fuccels is by 
 exerting ever>^ endeavor to place the body under 
 the regimen of the mind. Vigorous minds frequent- 
 ly baniih tb.e moft inveterate evils, or form a pow- 
 erful fhield againft all the darts of fate, and by bra^ 
 ving every danger, drive away thofe feelings by 
 which others are irritated and deftroyed. They bold- 
 ly turn their eyes from what things are, to what 
 ihey ought to be ; and with deter^rined refolution 
 liipport th<^ bodies they are dtfigred to animate, 
 wnilc. weaker minds furrender every thing commit- 
 ted to ti.eir care. 
 
 The foul, however, always yields to thofe cir- 
 €u*nfta 'Ces which are m ft dgreeable to its peculiar 
 char .cler. '/iie gam'ng-rable, luxurious feafts and 
 briUv:::t allemblies, are themcft pjJatable aliments, 
 the moft pleaijng comforts to the generality of men ; 
 wiiile the bofojriS of thofe who figh for Sditudej 
 from a Cunrcioufn^fs of all the advantages it affords. 
 
77;<? Inp.cncc of Bclltude, 285 
 
 feel no tranquillity or enjoyment but hi its peaceful 
 fhades. 
 
 Thefe refieclions upon the advantages which 
 the heart derives from Solimde bring me, at laft, to 
 this import.mt queftion : — Whether it is eafier to 
 Hve virtuouily in Solitude or in the World I 
 
 In fociety, the virtues are frequently pracftifed 
 .from a mere fenfe of duty. The Clergy feel it their 
 duty to afford inftrucVioQ to ti^e ignorant, and con^ 
 folation to the ufBi^led. The Judges tliink it their 
 duty to render juiiice to the injured or oppreffed. 
 The Phylician pays his vihts to^the Tick, and cures 
 t'-em, ill or well ; and all for the fake of humanity, 
 lay thefe gentlemen. But all this is falfe ; the cler- 
 gy afford confolaticD, the lawyer renders juftice, 
 the phyfici?.n cures, net always from the decided 
 inclination of thie heart, but becaufe he muft, be- 
 caufe his duty requires it, becaufe the one niuft do 
 honor to his gow., the other is pl.iced in the feat cF 
 juflire, and the third has pledged his Ikill on fuch 
 and fuch pr^gncfiics. 'ihe words, "your known 
 hum.anitv,'' which always fnock my feehiigs, and are 
 inlroduCDry to the contents of a thoufcuid letters I 
 have received, are nothing m re than the ftyle of 
 cuft :)m, a common flattery and f.Ufehood. Human- 
 ity is a virtu3, a n- bi rnefs of foul of the higheti: 
 r.ink ; and hew can ar,y one knov/ whiether I do 
 fu :h and fuch things fr 3m the love of virtue, or be- 
 caufe I am bound by duty to perform them I 
 
 Good works, t.:crefore, are not always ?.<fis of 
 virtue. The ficart of that man who never detaches 
 hirafelf fr-^ni the affair? of the world, is fr-rquently 
 Ihut ^gainit every thirg that is good. It is p.ffible 
 to do go ^d, w-md net be virtuou^s : for a man may 
 be great in ris anions ^r^a iirtle in his heart.* Vir- 
 tue is a quaUty much more rare than is geierally im- 
 
 . . * y^^* poteftatibu- fub!imr, (l^ys Lord Chancellor Bacr-n) ipfi 
 tibi Ignoti lunt. Ec d-.m nepor.:> .^litrahuntur, tempore caicnc, ^uo 
 taniuti aat corporis auc anioiie icas confuiaar." 
 
2.84 ^^"^ LrpMcnce of SoIiiuJ^. 
 
 agined. It is therefore neceffary to be frugal of the 
 words humanity^ virtue^ patriotifin^ and Others cf the 
 fkme import ; they ought only to be mentioned up- 
 on great occ?.rions ; for by too frequent ufe their 
 meaning is weakened, and the quaUties they defcribe 
 biought into contempt. Who would not blufh to 
 be called learned^ or humane^ when he hears the 
 knowledge of fo many ignorast perfons boalted of,, 
 and the -well- known humanity" of fo many villains 
 praiFed ? 
 
 The probability is, that men will do more good 
 in the retreats of Solitude than in the world. In 
 fa6l, a virtuous man, of whatever defcnption he may 
 be, is not virtuous in confequence of example, for 
 virtuous examples are unhappily too rarely feen in 
 the world, but becaufe in the filence of refledlion he 
 feels that the pleafures of a good heart furpals eve- 
 ry other, and conftitute the true happineis of iife.^ 
 The greater part, therefore, of virtuous actions are 
 txercifed in filence and obfcurity. 
 
 Virtuous adlons are more eafily and more free- 
 ly performed in Solitude than in the world. In 
 SdiiU'.'e no man blufhes at the fight of virtue, but 
 in the v/orld fhe drags on an obfcure exirtenoe, and 
 ieeras afraid to fhew her face in pubhc. The inter- 
 eourfe of ihe world is the education of vice. Men 
 poffeiTed of ths belt inclinations .are furrounded by 
 lo many fnares and dangers, that they will all com- 
 mit fome fault every day of their lives. One man 
 who plays a firfl rate charadcr upon the theatre of 
 the world, is deficient in virtuous inclinations ; ia 
 aaotker of the fame clafs, his inclinations are good 
 while h's actions are vicious. In the chamber, be- 
 fore we engage ir. the complicated bufinefs of the 
 •day, we are, perhaps, kind, impartial, and candid, 
 for then t'^e current of our tempers lias received no 
 contrp.dicrion ; but with ihe greateii attention, with 
 the moil fcrupuloiis vigilance, it is impoiiible to con- 
 tinue through the day ccinpleteiy mafters of our* 
 
The Infiuemc $f Sohtme* 
 
 iCive^, opprelTed, as we are, with cares and vexa- 
 tions, obliged to confcrm to a leries of dirgiifling 
 circumftaoces, to give audience to a multitude of 
 men, and to endure a thoufard abfurd and unex- 
 peflfd accidents which diftr^cft the mind. The fel- 
 ly, therefore, of myitic minds, v/as, in forgetting 
 that their fouls were fubjeded to a body, and aim- 
 ing, in confequence of that error, at the higheft 
 pome of fpecul?-tive ^'rtue. The nature of humsn 
 beings cannjt be altered -r.erely by living in a her- 
 mitage. The exercife of virtue is only eafy ie ihofe 
 lituations where it is not expcfed to danger, and 
 then it lofcs its m.erir. God created many her- 
 mits too weak to five themfelves when plungecl into 
 the abyfs, b-xaufe he rendered them f:rong en: ugh 
 not to fail into it. 
 
 I fhall here fubjoia an excellent obfervaticn of 
 a celebrated S:otch Phil jfopher— " it is the p:cu- 
 iiar effe£l of virtoe to mr.ke a man's chief happinefs 
 arife from himfelf a ^d his own condu6l. A bad 
 man is wholly the creature i f the world. He hangs 
 upon its f iver, lives by its f niles, and is happy or 
 miferabie in proportion to his f'uccefs. But to a 
 virtu:,us man, fuccefs in worldly undertakings is 
 but a feconcary objecl. T o difcharg^ his own part 
 v^ith integrity and honor, is h's chief aim. If he has 
 done properly v. hat was incumbent on hirxi to do, 
 his mxiud is at refi: ; to PfovideKce he leaves the 
 event. His witnr/s is in Heaven^ and his record is on 
 high. Satisfied with the approbation of God, and 
 tae tcftunony of a good confcience, he enjoys him- 
 felf, and defpifes the triumphs of guilt. In propor- 
 tion as fuch manly principles rule your heart, vou 
 will becoire independent of the world, and will for- 
 bear complaining of its difccuragements." 
 
 To recommend this independence cf the world 
 is the firft aim and only end of the Uttle philofophy 
 which may be found in tl is Treatife upon SoUtude. 
 It is not my d;(5trias to lead mea intg the defarts. 
 
28^ 7m Influence of ^oiitude. 
 
 or to place their refdence, like thit of owls, in the 
 hollow trunks of trees ; but I would willingly re- 
 ir^ove from their miixls the excefiive fear of men 
 and of the world. I would, as far it is practica- 
 ble, render them indepej-.dent ; I v^^ould break their 
 fetters, infpire them with a contempt of public fo- 
 ciety, and devote their minds to the love of Scii- 
 tude, in order that tiiey may be able to fay, at 
 leaf!: during the courfe of two hours in a day, " We 
 are free, 
 
 Such a ft-ita of independence cannot be dif- 
 pleafmg even to the greatelt enemies of liberty ; 
 for it fmiply carries the mind to a rational ufe of 
 Solitude, it is by the recnllecdcn of the foul, by 
 the mind's flrengihtning itfelf in thefs pure aiid no- 
 ble frntinents, t-^-u we are rendered more able and 
 more anxious to fill our r^fpeCt've ftations in life 
 with propriety. 
 
 The true apofihs of Solitude have fiid, " It is 
 only by employing with pre priety the hcurs of an 
 happy leifure, that we adopt fmn and folid refohi* 
 tions to govern cur mind and guide our atti. ns. It 
 is there, only, that we can quietly reflscl upon the 
 tranfadlions of life, upon the temptations to which 
 we are moft expofed, upon thofe weaker fides of 
 the heart which we ought to guard with the moft 
 unceafmg care, and previoufly arm ourfelves ag?.infl 
 v/hatever is dangerous in our commerce with nian- 
 kind. Perhaps though virtue may appear, at firit 
 fight, to contra6l the bounds of enjoyment, ycu will 
 find upon refleclion, that in truth it enlarges them ; 
 if it rellrains the excefs of fome pleafures, it favors 
 and iocreafes others ; it precludes you from none 
 but fuch as ?re either fantaftic and imaginary, or 
 pernicious and deiiructive." — " The rich proprieta- 
 ry loves to amufe himfelf in a contemplation of his 
 wealth, the voluptuary in his entertainments, the 
 man of the world with his friends and his affemblies ^ 
 but the truJy good man finds his pleafure in the 
 
The hfiuemecf Mltudel 287 
 
 fcrupubus difcharge of the augiift duties of life. 
 He fees a new fun (l^ining before him ; thinks him- 
 felf furrounded by a more pure and lively fplendor ; 
 every obje<^l is emheilifhed, and he gaily purines 
 . his career. He who penetrates into the fecret cau- 
 fes of thi :'gs, who reads in the refpeftabl? obfcurity 
 of a wife Solitude, will return us public thanks. 
 We immediately acquit curfelves more perfedly in 
 bufinefs, we rtfiif with greater eafe the temptations 
 of vice, and we ewe all thefe edvantcges to the pi- 
 ous recalle£licn which Solitude inlpires, to our fep- 
 aration from, mankind, and to cur independence of 
 the world." 
 
 Liberty, leifure, a quiet confcience, and a re- 
 tirement from the world, are therefore the furelt 
 an:"^. mofc iafaliible means to arrive at virtue. Un- 
 der fach circumftances. it is not neceflary to refiraia 
 the paflions merely to prevent them from difturb- 
 ing the public order, or to abate the fervor of ima- 
 gia.-ition ; for in cur review of things we willingly 
 le^ve them as they are, becaufe we have learned to 
 hugn at their abfurdity. Domeftic life is no long- 
 er, as in the gay world, a fcece of languor and dit 
 Rull, the field ot battle to every bafe and brutal paf- 
 fun, the dwelling of envy, vexation and ill humor. 
 Peace and happinefs inhabit thofe bofoms that re- 
 nounce the p:;iibncus fprings of pleafure ; and the 
 •mind is thereby rendered capable of communicating 
 its pureft j^ws to all around. He v/no fhuns the 
 contaminated circles of the vicious, who flies from 
 the inf'^lent lo' ks of proud flupidity and the arro- 
 gance of fuccefsful villainy ; who beholds the void 
 which all the idle entertainments and vain preten- 
 fions of public lif-^ leave within the breaft, is never 
 difcontented or d3.R:urbed at home. 
 
 The pleafures of the world lofe their charms 
 on every facrifice ma-f e in Solitude at the pltar of 
 Virtue. "I 1 ve rather to Ihed tears myielf ihaa 
 to make others fned them," faid a Germaii lady to 
 
aSS The Irtfluence of Solitude. 
 
 me one day. She did not feem coiifcious that it is 
 almofl impc iTiblc either to fay or do any thing mere 
 generous. Vn-tue hkc this affords more real con- 
 tent to the heart than all the amufements which are 
 hourly ibught to dcftroy time, and Real the bofom 
 trom itfclf. The miad is always happy in finding 
 itfelf capable of exercifmg faculties which it was 
 not before confcious it poffefied. Solitude opens 
 the foul to ev^ry noble pleafure; fills it with ictel- 
 iigence, ferenity, calmnefs, and content, when we 
 expected nothing but tears of forrow ; and repairs 
 every misfortune by a thoufand new and unuttera- 
 ble delights. 
 
 There is not a villain in exiftence whofe mind 
 does not ftlently acknowledge that Virtue is the cor- 
 ner flone of all felicity in the world, as well as in 
 Solitude. Vice, however, is continually fpreading 
 her filken nets, enfnaring multitudes of every rank 
 and every ftation. To watch all the feduftive in- 
 clinations of the heart, not only when they are pre- 
 fent, but while they yet lie dormant in tr e breafl, 
 to vanquifh every defire by employing the mind in 
 the purfuit of noble pleafures, has ever been confid- 
 ered the greatefl conqueft which the foul is capable 
 of gaining over the world and itfelf ; and inward 
 peace has ever teen the fruit of this viclory. 
 
 Happy is the man v/ho carries with him into 
 Solitude the inward peace of mind, and there pre- 
 ferves it unaltered. Of wh-at fervice would it be to 
 leave the town, and feak the calmnefs and tranquil- 
 lity of retirement, if mifanthropy ftill lurks within 
 the heart, '^nd we there continue our f icrifices to 
 this fatal pailion ? Divine content, a calm and open 
 r.ounten?Tice, will, in fuch circumftances, be as dif- 
 ficult to fin-l in the flower- enamelled meadov^s as in 
 the deepeft night of Solitude, or in the filent fhades 
 of obfcure cells- To purify and protect the heart 
 i-s the firfl and lafl duty which we have to perf "irm 
 ki Solitude : this ta& once accomplifhed our hap- 
 
the Influence of Sdiiiide* a59 
 
 pmefs is feciu'e, for we have then learned the value 
 of the tranquillity, the leifure, and the liberty we 
 enjoy. Hatred to mankind ought not to be the 
 <:au^e of ourleiviiig the world ; we may fhun their 
 lociety, and iiill niiiutain our wiihes for their feli- 
 city. 
 
 An elieatlal portion of the happinefs which we 
 tafle in SoUmde arifes from our ability to appreci- 
 ate things according to their true value, independ- 
 ently of the public opinion. When Rome, after 
 tha corqaeft of the Pirates, removed LucuUus from 
 the head of the i^rmy, in order to give the command 
 of it to Pompey, religning by this a^t the govern- 
 ment of the emp-.re to the difcretion of a fmgle man, 
 that artful citizen beat his breaft, as a fign of grief 
 at being invefted with the honor, and exclaimed, 
 Alas ! is there no end to my conflicts ? How 
 much better v/ould it have been to have remained 
 one of {he undiftinguifhed Many, than to be perpet- 
 iially engaged in war, and have my body continu- 
 ally locked in armor ! Shall 1 never be able to fly 
 from envy to a rural retreat, to domeftic happinef?, 
 aad conjugal endearments V — Pompey Ipoke his 
 true feiitiments in the language of diffimulation ; 
 for he had not yet learne I really to efteem that 
 which all men poflelFed of native ambition and tli3 
 lu*i of pov/er, defpife ; nor did he yet contemn that 
 which at this period of the republic every Roman 
 who was eager to command eifeemed more thin al! 
 other things ; unlike Manias Curius, the greatelfc 
 Roman cf nis age, who, after having vanquifhed 
 feverai warlike nations, driven Pyrrhus out of Ita- 
 ly, and enjoyed three time the honors of a Tri- 
 umpii," retired to his cottage in the country, and 
 with his own victorious hands cultivated his little 
 
 * Manius Curius Dentatus triumphed twice in his firft Confulate 
 jn the 463i year of Rome ; fii ft over the Samr.keSf and afterwards over 
 tht i)abinei y and eight years afterwards, in his third Cenfulate, he 
 tilamphed over Pyrrhus. After thi^ he led the leflfif Tri 
 Ovation, fgr bis tiftory over the Lucanigtu 
 
zgo The Influence of Solitude, 
 
 farm. To this fpot the AmbalTadors of the Samnites 
 came to ofer him a large prtfentof gold, and found 
 him feated in the chimney corner drefling turnipvS.** 
 
 No king cr prince was ever fo happy as was 
 Manius Curius in the humble employment of dref- 
 fmg his turnips- Princes know too well that under 
 many circumtlances they are deprived of friends ; 
 and this is the reaibn why they afk the advice of 
 many, but confide in none. I'he hontft Cuhje^s 
 of a nation, every man of reflection and good lenfe, 
 pities the condition of virtuous Sovereigns ; for ev- 
 en the beft of Sovereigns are not al.ogerher exempt 
 from fears, jealoufies and torments. Their felicity 
 cever equals that of a laborious and contented huf- 
 bandman : their pleafures are not i'o permanent ; 
 they never experience the fame tran-qaillity and con- 
 tent. The provifions of a peafant are coarfe, but 
 to his appetite they are delicious : his bed is hard, 
 but he goes to it fatigued by the honelt labors of 
 the day, and ileeps founder on his mat of firav/ 
 Ithan monarchs on their beds of down. 
 
 The pleafures of Solitude are enjoyed by eve- 
 yy defcription of men, without exception of rank or 
 fortune. The frefhnefs of the breeze, the mngfiifi* 
 cence of the forefts, the rich tints of the meadows, 
 the inexhauftible variet^, wh'ch fummer fpre ids ovtr 
 the face of all nature, enchant n(^t only philoibphers, 
 lyings and heroes, but th^ beautiful pi'<fture raviflit^ 
 the mind of the mofl ignorant fpe6laLor with exqui- 
 fite delight. An Engliih author has very juflly oh- 
 ferved, " It is not neceflary that he who' look<?wir.h 
 pleafure on the colours of a flower Ihould If udy the 
 principles of vegetation, or that the Ptolemaic and 
 Copernican fyftem fhould be compared, before the 
 light of the fun can gladden, or its warmth invigo- 
 
 * DcQtatus abfolutely refufed the prefent, and ga.ve the AnmbafTa- 
 oors this aniwer: ** A man who can be fatisfied with (r.ch a fupper 
 has no need of gold; aad I think it more glorious to conquer K\\t ovnc;5. 
 Oi/ it thsa pofTefs It myfcif." 
 
The Influence of Solitude. i(^t 
 
 ra< e. Novelty is itfelf a fource of gratification ; and 
 Milton juftly obferves, that to him who has beea 
 long pant up io cities, no rural object can be pre- 
 fenied that will not delight or refrtlh ibme of his 
 
 Exiles themfelves have frequently felt the ad- 
 vantai;es and enjoyments of Solitude. To fupply 
 t^c place of the world from which they are banifli- 
 ed, they create in retirement a new world for them- 
 felves ; forget thofe faditious pleafures cxclufively 
 attached to the condition of the great, habituate 
 themielves to others of a nobler kind, more worthy 
 the attention of a rational being and to pafs their 
 days i!i tranquillity fmd out a thoufaad little fell- 
 L iies, which are only to be met with at a diflance 
 from all fociety, far removed from all coofcla- 
 lion, tar from their country, their family and their 
 friends. 
 
 But to procure happinefs, Exiles, like other 
 me3, ir>uft fix their minds upon Ibme obk*A \ ihf*f- 
 Vixxii adopt fome paj'ticular puri'ult capable of crea- 
 tr 'g future hopes cr of affording immediate piea- 
 iore. £xil'.s, alas ! afpire to the attainment of hap- 
 pinefe. and would ftill live for the fake of virtue. 
 
 Maurice, Prince of Ifnebourg, diflinguifhecl 
 rimfelf by his CQiirage during a Jervice of twenty 
 years, under Ferdinand Duke of Brunfwick, and 
 Marfhal Broglio, in the wa,rs between the Ruffians 
 and the 1 urks. Health and repofe were facrificed 
 to the gratification of his ainbition and love of glo- 
 ry. During his fervice in the Ruffian army he fell 
 under the difpleafure of the Emprels, and was fent 
 into exib. I'he nature of exile in Ruffia is well 
 known ;. but he contrived to render even a Ruffian 
 baniihmeni agreeable. At firll, his mind and his 
 body were cpprefied by the forrows and dii'quiet- 
 
 * CiVfrs fays, lA\i\\.-i ^xxz\&xi Dhnyfius Phalersuz in jlJoTetillo 
 fcripfil, non in ufum aliquem fuum, quo crat orbatusj led aijimi-C'jl- 
 las ille, eratei quafi qui<i*m humanitaties cibus,'* 
 
2^2 7U Influence cf SoBuJe^ 
 
 iides of his fituation ; and his life became a mere 
 ihadow. The little work written by Lord Bclirg- 
 brok« upon exile fell accidentally into his hands* 
 He read it feveral times ; and " in proportion to 
 the number of times 1 read/' (liid the Prince, in the 
 preface of the elegant and nervous tranHation which 
 ke made of this work, " 1 felt all my foirows and 
 difqmetudes vanifh/* 
 
 This treatife of Lcrd Bclingbrcke upon the 
 iubje^l of exile, is a mader-piece of ftoic philofophy 
 iind fine writing. He there boldly examires thead- 
 yerfities of his paft and prefer t life. Inftead of fly^ 
 Ing from them, or enduring them with lingc ring end 
 fhamefiii patience, he endeavors to conquer them- 
 Inftead of palliatives, he advifes the knife and the 
 caufbic ; he probes the wound to the bottom to cb- 
 tain a radical cure. 
 
 The mind, without doubt, frrengthecs its pow- 
 ers under the circumliances of perpetual banifh- 
 snent in the fame manner as an uninierrupted Soli- 
 tude ; and habit fapplies the neceilary power to 
 fupport its misfortune. To exiles v/ho rre inclined 
 to indulge all the pleafing emotions of the hearts 
 Solitude, indeed, becomes an eafy fituaiion ; for 
 they there experience pleafures which were I efcre 
 unknown ; and from that moment forget ihofe 
 which they tafled in the happier iituation of life* 
 When Brutus faw Marcellus in exile at My telene, 
 he found him furrcunded by the higheft felicity of 
 which human nature is fufceptible, ar.d devoted, 
 as before his baniflmient, to the uudy of every 
 lifeful fcience* The fight made fo deep an impref- 
 lion on his mind, that when he was again return- 
 ing into the world, he felt that it was Brutus wi;o. 
 was going into exile, and not Marcellus whom he 
 left behind. 
 
 Some years before, Quintus Metellus Numid- 
 knsfuffered the fame fate. -At the time when the 
 people, condufled by Marius, laid the fouudatica 
 
The Influence cf Sslkude* 
 
 of mat tyranny whick Ca^far afterwards ere^Ved, 
 MereHiis fingly, in the midftof aii aliirmed Senate, 
 ai^d furrouuded by an enraged populace, refufed to 
 take the oath impofed by the pernicious hiv/s of the 
 Tribune Saturninus. His in: moveable firmnefs was 
 confidered as a crime, and exile was its punifhment. 
 A mad and furious parry gained the afcendancy. 
 The molt virtuous of the citizens, indeed, took up 
 arms in his defence^ refoluteiy determined toperilh 
 rather than hve to fee their country deprived of fo 
 much virtue ; but this generous Roman, who had 
 refilled all the exhortations of his friends not to ex- 
 pjie h'.mfclf to the dreadful penalties of his refufal, 
 thought it a duty which he owed to the laws not to 
 fulTcr any fedition to take place ; he contented him- 
 felf v/ith lamenting that frenzy which had leized the 
 public mind, as Plato had before lamented the mad-- 
 nels cf the Ati.enians : — " Either matters," faid 
 he, " will take a better turn, and the people re- 
 pent and recall me, or, if they continue the fame, it 
 will l^e befl: to be at a diflance from Rome." With- 
 out regret therefore he refigned himfelf to banifh-- 
 ment, fully convinced of its advantages to a heart 
 incapable of finding repofe except c p foreign fhores ; 
 a heart which, if he had continued at Rome, muft 
 have been inceffantly torn to pieces by the fight of 
 a miferable Senate and an expiring Republic. 
 
 Rutillius alfo withdrew himfelf from the cor- 
 nipted city of Rome with equal contempt for the 
 fentiments and the manners of the age. He had 
 defended Afia againft the exertions of the ColleiStors. 
 This generolity irritated the Equeftrian Order, and 
 motives equally bafe exafpsrated Marius^s party 
 againft him. 'fhe mofl virtuous and innocent citi- 
 zen cf the republic was accufed of corruption, acd 
 dragged to the bar of juftice by the vile and infa- 
 mous Apicius. The authors of this unfounded pro- 
 fecution fat in judgment on Rutilius, who was of 
 courfe molt unjufily condemned, for hefcarcely con- 
 
 (>:£ V 2) 
 
ip4 T^k it^ucncs of Solitude. ' 
 
 defcended to defend the caufe. Seeking an afylnnt 
 in Afia, this venerable Roman, whofe ungrateful: 
 country was ignsfant of his merit, was receired 
 there with every mark of affe<ftion and refped:. Be- 
 fore the term of his banifhment expired, he fhewed 
 ftill greater contempt to Rome ; for when Sylia: 
 would have recalled him, he not oniy refufed to re- 
 turn, but made the place of his relidence at a great* 
 er diilance. 
 
 To all thefe inftances of happy and contented 
 ejiiles, Cicero is a memorable exception. He pof. 
 feffed all the refources, all the fentimenfs neceffary 
 to draw the greatcft advantages from Solitude ; but 
 he had not lufEcieat ftrecgth gf mii^d to fupport 
 himfelf under the adverfity of baniflimeut. Cic( rb, 
 the favior of his country, during his profperity was 
 neither deterred by the liienaces^ of a dangerous 
 fadion, nor alarmed at the poignard of the afTaflin, 
 but his coura'ge failed him when his misfcrtuQcs 
 commenced. He had before lame nted the weaknefs 
 of his conititution, but after exile he became quite 
 dejeiTted, and when that once happen^ all power of 
 mind is gene ; the foul immediately Icies all its en- 
 ergies, and bei** mes equally iticapable of fuggefcirg 
 vigorous meafures, or of performing heroic ■..fti on s. 
 Cicero and his melancholy have diihonored botrt 
 exile and Solitude. Not knowing where to go, or 
 what to do, as timorous as a female, as capricicus 
 as a child, he regretted the fcfs of his rank, hJs 
 riches, and his power. He wept over the ruins of 
 his hcufe, which the fury of Clcdius had levelled 
 with the ground ;^ and poured forth groans fcr the 
 abfence of Tereniia, whom he foon afterwards repu- 
 diated. Such are the fatal effects of a melancholy 
 mind : it deplcres, with bitter lamentation, the lots 
 of thofe things in the poffefTion of which it places no 
 value. The friends and enemies of Cicero ui:! ted 
 in believing that misfortune had difcrdered his brain. 
 Caifar faw with fecret fsitisfa^ti^n the man who had 
 
The Influence of Solitude^ 295-' 
 
 refafcd to be his colleiigue weep under the fcourge 
 of Clodius. Pompey hoped that his ingratitude 
 would be efFaced by the conteiKpt to which thi 
 friend he fo carelefsly abandoned expoled himfelf. 
 Even Atticus, whcfe higheR gratilication was uinry 
 and mv.gniticence, who without a nnealing himCelf 
 to any party was intimate with v^ll, blafhed for the^ 
 anduft of Cicero, thought that he attached himfelf 
 too fervilely to his former fortuvies, and reproach- 
 ed him with the feveri y of a Cato. Solitude l^lb 
 all its influence over Cicero, becaufe weak and mel- 
 ancholy fcntiments condnually dcprefled his mind, 
 and turned the worfi: fide of every cojtCi to hi^; 
 view. He died, however, like a hero, and not lik 5 
 a dejtftad coward. "Approach., old foldler,"' cri- 
 ed he from his litter to Poinpiiius Locnas, his client 
 and his murderer, " and, if you have the courage, 
 take my hfe." 
 
 A man under the adverfity of banifement can- 
 not hope to fee his days glide quietly away in ru- 
 ral delights and phibibphic repofe, exrept he has 
 honorably dilcharged f^ofe duties which he owed to 
 the world, and given th?t bright example to future 
 ages, which every chara^t^r exhibits v/ho is as great 
 after his fall as 5e was at the moft brilliant period 
 of his profperity. 
 
 Solitude affords an unutterable felicity under 
 the preliure of old age, and in the decHne of hfe. 
 The life of man is a voyage cf fhort duration, and 
 his old age a fleeting day. The mind is enabled by 
 Solitude to forget the tempers of which it was fo 
 long the fport : old age, therefore, if we coLfider 
 it as the time of repofe, as an interval between 
 the affairs df this world and the higher concerns 
 cf death, an harbor from whence we quietly view 
 rocks on which we were in danger of being wreck- 
 ed, is, periiaps, the mofl agreeable period cf our 
 lives. 
 
 The human mind is in general '«in:dous to draw 
 
296 
 
 The Injlumce of Soliiude* 
 
 its knowledge from every diflant obje£^, before it 
 applies to its own reiburces : we therefore frequent- 
 ly begin our travels in other nations, before we 
 have feen whatever is intereiliog in cur own. But 
 difcreet youth and experienced age condu6l them- 
 ielves upon difterent principles. To both the one 
 and the other Solitude and felf-examination are the 
 beginning and the end of Wildom. If Solitude de- 
 preifes the fpirits of youth,^ and renders manhood 
 melancholy, it frequently drives away the depreflioa 
 which accompanies old a^e. 
 
 The hillory of our lirft entrance into hfe con- 
 fifts of a continual fiicceffion of hopes, wifhes and 
 illulions : the fucce^dii^f]; years are an age of vexa- 
 tion and forrow. But the mind of a man who has 
 learnt wifJom from experience cannot be either 
 fnaken or fui-prized. He who is no longer obliged 
 to labor for the means of fupporting life, and who 
 has bef.n lo: g acquainted v/ith the fecret practices 
 and fiuiittr dealings of the world, makes no com- 
 plaints of the ingratitude with w^hich his labors and 
 anxiety have been rewarded : all he afks for is tran- 
 quillity and repofe ; and if he has made any advan- 
 ces in the knowledge of liimfeif, if he has been obU- 
 ged at an early period of his life to become wife, he 
 reckons every thing eUe of no value. 
 
 It is a very juit obfervation of a celebrated 
 German, that there are fohtica! as well as religious 
 Chcirtreux^ and that both the one and the other Or- 
 der are frequently the bef: and moft pious of men. 
 " It is within the moft retired fnades of the foreft," 
 fays this writer, " that we meet with the peaceful 
 fage and tranquil obferv^r, the friend of truth, the 
 lover of his country, w! o neither defies nor calum- 
 niates. Mankind admire his wifdom, enjoy the 
 beams of his knowledge, adore his love of truth, 
 and his afFe<^ion to his fellow-creatures. They are 
 anxious to gain his confidence and his friendfhip ; 
 and are as much aftgniihed at the wifdom which 
 
proceeds from his lip?, rnd the re(^iude vAiich ac- 
 companies all his aclions, as they are at the obfcu- 
 rity cf his name, and the mjocie cf his exiflence. 
 They endeavor to draw him from his Solitude, and 
 place him on the throne ; but they immediate ly^ 
 perceivi infcribed upon his forehead, t)€aming v/itrt 
 faered fire, " Odi profanity vulgus et aneo^'* and in- 
 f:ead of being his fiducers^ thty become his profe- 
 lytcs." 
 
 But, ai.^.s ! this political Charfreux is no more. 
 I faw him formerly in Wetteravia. His animated^ 
 figure, wh'ie it announced the highell degree of 
 wifdom and the happlc-ft' tranquiihty, fiikd my bo* 
 fcm with reip:^cl and fili d bve. There did not, 
 perh:.ps, L>t t at time exift a c bar?. 61er more pro- 
 found in ariV German Court; he was inum.ately 
 acquainted v/ith all, and corrcfprnded perfonally 
 with fom?, of the mc-:-: celebrated Sovereigns cf Eu- 
 rope. I never found, in any fituiition, an obferv- 
 er who pcncnated with fo iXiUch ikill and ceriainty 
 into the thoughts and adior.s cf other fflen; wh^ 
 had formed iuch true cpinicns of the v/crld in G;en- 
 eral, and of thofe who played the molt important 
 characfters on its theatre : never was a mind more 
 free, more open, more energetic, or more mild ; an 
 eye more lively and penetrating : I never, in fhort, 
 knew a man in whole company I could have lived 
 with higher pleafure, or died with greater coa:fcrto- 
 The plac^ of his retirement in the country w2S mcd- 
 ell and f^mple ; his grounds wilhruten, and his ta- 
 ble frug;.l. The charm w^hich I felt in this retreat 
 cf Welter .ivia, the refidence of the venerable Baroa 
 de Schautenbach, is inexprellibh\ 
 
 Who ever poirelTed more energy and fire, cr 
 by whom w^ere tne hours of Solitude ev^r better 
 employed, than, by Rouifeau during the litter years 
 of his life I it was in his old age that he wrote the 
 greater and tha beft part of his works. The poor 
 philofopher, when he fdt himiielf verging, to the pe^ 
 
apS The Lifluence of SQlitude* 
 
 riod of his exiftence, endeavored to find tranqtiilli- 
 ty of heart among the Oiades of Solitude ; but his 
 endeavors were in vain. Rouffeau had experien- 
 ced too frequently the fury of th:fe who are ene- 
 mies to truth his feelings had been too frequently 
 expoied to the fevereft and moft unmerited perfecu- 
 tions. Before he difcovered the danger of his fitu- 
 ation, he had fufFered, as well from his weak con- 
 fiituticn as from the litde care he had taken of his 
 health, a long and painful ficknefs. In the lafl years 
 of his life the effects of melancholy and chagrin were 
 more apparent thau ever. He frequently fainted, 
 i^rnd talked wildly when he was ill. Ail that Rouf- 
 feau wrote during his old age," fa^'s one of our re- 
 fined _ critics, w?.s nonfenie."— Yes," replied 
 his fair friend with greater truth, " but he v/rote 
 nonfenfe fo agree?. blv, that we fonit times like to talk 
 confenfe wiih him.'' 
 
 Old age app3:rs to Ve the prcperefl feafon of 
 meditation. The ardent fire of youth is iiifld, the 
 meridran heat cf lite'^s ^lort day is paffed, and fuc- 
 ceeded by the foft tranquillity and refreihlng quiet- 
 ude of the evening. It is therefore ufeful to devote 
 fome time to meditation before we leave the world, 
 whenever we can procure an interval of repofe, 
 TiiC thought alone of the arrival of this happy peri- 
 od recreates the mind ; it is the firil fine day of' 
 Spring after a long and dreary V/ inter. 
 
 Peti-arch Ccarcely perceived the approaches of 
 old age. By conftant activity he rendered his re- 
 tirement always happy, and even/ year paiTed in 
 pleufure and tranquillity unperceived away. From 
 a little verdant harbor in the neighborhood cfa 
 Carthufian monaltery, he wrote to his friend Setti- 
 mo v/ith a naivete unknown to the modern manners : 
 " Like a wearied traveller, I increafe my pace in 
 proportion as I draw nearer the end of ir.y journey. 
 I read an \ write night and day ; they alternately 
 relieve each other. Thefe are my only occupations. 
 
The Influep.cc of Solitude* -299 
 
 and the fource of all my pleafures. I lie awake a 
 great part of the night.^ i labor, I divert my mintl, 
 and make every eflbrt in my power : the more dif- 
 ficulties I encounter, the more my ardor increafes ; 
 novehy incites ; obftacles fharpin me: the labor is 
 certain ; hvit the fuccefs precarious". INly eyes are 
 dimmed by watchings ; my hand tired of holding 
 the pen. My wilh is, that poderity may know me« 
 If I do nor fucceed in this wifh, the age in which I 
 live, or at leaii: the friends who have known me.^ 
 will do me juftice, and that is fufficient. My health 
 is fo good, my conllitution fo robuft, my tempera- 
 ment IS 10 warm, that neiti^er the maturity of age, 
 the moft ferious occupations, the habit of continen- 
 cy, nor the power of time, can vanquifh the rebel- 
 hous enemy which I am obliged inceifantly to attack. 
 1 reiy upon Providence, w^ithout which, as it has 
 fre-queiitly happened before, I fhould certainly be- 
 come its victim. At the end of winter I frequently 
 take up arms againfl the flefli ; and am evvn at this 
 moment fighting for my liberty againiiits moft dan- 
 gerous enemy/' 
 
 In old age, the moft obfcure retirement in the 
 country advis flill greater gi:>ry to thofe arvlent and 
 energetic inmds, who fly from the world to termi- 
 nate their career in Solitude, Though far removed 
 from the theatre of their fame, they (liine with high- 
 er luilre than in the days of their you'h. " It is ia 
 Solitude, in exile, and on the bed of death,*' Tays 
 Pope, " that the nobleft characters of antiquity 
 Ihone with the greatefl (plendor ; it was then tliat 
 they performed the greateil fervlces ; for they then 
 communicr.ted their knowledge to mankind.'* 
 
 Rouffeau may be included in this obfervation. 
 It is certainly doing fome fer\nce,*' fiys he, " to 
 give men an eximph of the life which they ought 
 to lead. It is certainly ufeful, when all power of 
 mind or /Ireagth of body is decayed, boldly to ma'.: 2 
 msn^iftea tothe voice of truth from rciirement. It 
 
300 Tk Infiurice of SolUude, 
 
 IS of fome fervice to inform m^n of the abfurdity of 
 thcfe opinions which render them miferabl?. i fhould 
 be much more ufelefs to my countryman liviog 
 amorg them, than I can be in the occafion of my re- 
 treat. Of what importance i^ it where I live, if I 
 act as I oii^ht to acl ?'* 
 
 But a you!3g lidy of Germany did not under- , 
 (land things in this way. She maintained, " that 1 
 RouiTeau was a dan-^^erc-us feducer of the youthful 
 mind ; and that he had a<ft:;d extremely wrong in 
 difcovering in his coufelTions all his faults, his vici* 
 ous inchnations, and the worll fide ofhisjieart. 
 Such a w rrk written by a man of virtue would be 
 immediattly decried ; but RoulTeau, by whofe wri- 
 tings the wicked are fo captivated, in his irory of 
 the Riiban vole evinces a heart of the blackefl: dye ! 
 There are a thoufind palfages in that book from 
 which we may clearly fee that his p^en was guided 
 by vanity alcne, and others wh^re we feel that 3:e 
 utters Icntiments ?,gain(l Ivis L'.vn conviction. There 
 is no'.hing, in ihort, throughout the work which 
 bsars the mark of truth : all that we learn from it 
 is, that Madame de Warens was the original from 
 which Rouff^au copied hisjiilia. 'J he (Jonfeflions 
 of RoiifTeau, generally Ipeaking, contain a great 
 many fine w jrds, wiih very few good thoughts. If, 
 inftead of rejecting every opportunity of advancing 
 iiimielf in life, RoufTeau had engaged in any kmd of 
 trade, he wciVid have been more ufefui to the world 
 than he has been by the publication cf his danger- 
 ous writings.'' 
 
 This incomparable criticifm upon RoufTeau, 
 merits prefervation, becaufe I believe it is the only 
 one of its kind. I'he Confeilions of RouiTeau are 
 certainly not prop?rTcr the eye of youth ; but to 
 me they are works as replete with philofophy, and 
 as worthy of attention, ss any the prefent age has 
 prcDduced. Their inimitable fbyle and enchanting 
 teiiiU are their merits The remotelt poft^ty 
 
The Injluence of Solitude* 301 
 
 Will read the CoiifeiTions of RoufTeau, without aflc- 
 ing how old the author was when he gave to the age 
 in w :ick he lived this lait inftance of the fmceriiy 
 of his heart. 
 
 I'he days of a virtuous old mac, v;ho has at- 
 tained to the perfection of his plea fares, flow on 
 with ur.interrupted gaiety ; he then receives rhe re- 
 ward for the good a61:lons he has performed, and 
 carries with him the benediClions of ali around him. 
 The eye is n:ver afraid to review the tranfidlicns 
 of an honorable and virtuous life. I'he energeiic 
 mind never (hvdders at the fight of a tomb. The 
 Emprefs Maria Therefa has caufed her outi mau- 
 foleum to ba ere\5ted ; and frequently flops to view 
 a monument, the dreadful thoughts of which fo 
 few can bear : fhe poin s it out to the obfervation 
 of her children, and fays, " Is it poflible for us to 
 be arrogant, when we here behold what, in the 
 courfe of a few years, v/ill become the depcfitory 
 of Emperors r'^ 
 
 There are few men who think with fo much 
 fublimlty. Every one, however, may retire from 
 the world, appreciate the paft by its jufl value, and 
 during the remainder of his days cultivate and ex- 
 tend the knowledge hs has acquired. Tiie tomb 
 will then l::le its menacing afpedl; and man wdll look 
 upon de:ith like the cloficg evening of a fine day. 
 The puTs? enjoyments of the heart frequently engen- 
 der religious ideas, which reciprocally augment the 
 pleasures of Soli ude. A fimple, innocent and tran- 
 quil hfe qualifies the htart to raife itfelf tov/ards 
 God. The contemplation of nature difpofes the 
 mind to rel'gious devotion, and the highafi ellect of 
 religion is tranquillity. 
 
 When the heart is p2retrated with true fenti- 
 ments of religion, the world lofes all its charms, and 
 I he bofom feels with lei's anguifh the miferies and 
 torments attached to humanity. You live continu- 
 ally iu verdant meadows, and fee voiirielf furround- 
 (XXVi.^ ' 
 
302 The hrfluence of Solitude. 
 
 ed by the frefh fpricgs, upon the borders of which 
 the Shepherd of ifrael fed his flocks. The tumult- 
 uous hurry of the world appears like thundtr roll- 
 ' ingat a diltance ; like the murmuring nolle of dii- 
 tant waters, the courfe cf which you perceive, and 
 whc fe waves break ao^ainll the reck upon which you 
 3 re fafely feated. When Addifon perceived that 
 he was given over by his phyficians, and felt his end 
 ppprcachirg, he fent fcr a young man of a difpofi- 
 tion naturally good, ar.d who was extremely lerifi- 
 ble of the Icis v/ith which he was threatened. He 
 arrived ; but Addifon, v/ho w;.s extremrly feeble, 
 and whofe life at this m:)ir:ent hung quivering cn 
 h's hps, obferved a profound filer: ce. After a 1 ng 
 paufs the youth at length addrelTed him, " Sir, 
 vou defired to fee me ; fignify your commands, and 
 1 will execute them with rehgioiis purftuality." 
 Addifon took him by the hand, and replied in his 
 dying voice, " Obf:^rve with what tr.;nquiriity a 
 Chriilian can die."* 
 
 Such is the conf lAtion and tranquillity which 
 rei'gion affords ; fuch is the peace cf mind wl ich a 
 life of firaphcity aed innoc-nce procures : a condi- 
 tion rarely experienced in the world. Even v/hen 
 it is not altogether in cm- own power to remove the 
 obiiacles to this inward peace ; to oppofe upon all 
 occofions the viftorycftr.e world ; the idea of facri- 
 ficing to God is very natural and affe^lir.g to every 
 warm and virtuous heart. Why, therefore, are we 
 fb connnu.dly difcontented and miferable? Why 
 do we fo frequently complain of '.h3 want cf happi- 
 nefs and erjoyment, if it be net becaufe we permit 
 the mind to be imp: fed upon by the falfe appe::ran- 
 
 * The perfon here alluded to was Lord Warn-icic, a young man 
 of very hiegular life, and perhaps of iocfe opinions: Addifon, for 
 whom he did not want refptil, had very dilis^ently endeavored to re- 
 claim him ; but his argunients and expoflulations had no efreft : when 
 he found his iii^e near its end, ihciefoie, he direftcd the young lord to 
 be called, and made this iaft experiment to reclsim him. What efFedt 
 this awful fcene had on the tail, h uulcaown j hslikewife died himfelf 
 ill a {km thiM. The Tranflator, 
 
The Injkieme &f Solitude. 
 
 tt% of things ; becauCe fenfuality frequently predom- 
 inates over reafon ; becaufe we' prefer deceitful gifts 
 and fleeting pleafures to more elTential and perma- 
 nent enjoyments ; if it be not, in one word, becaufe 
 the bofom is not fenfible of the auguft precepts of 
 our holy religion ? 
 
 But he who has fludied the dcdrines of the 
 gofpel, who has meditated upon them in fibnce, has 
 nothing more to defire, provided he is at laft fenlible 
 of th2 kind of charafter which he forms in the 
 world, of that which he may acquire in Sohtude, 
 and of that which it is his duty to attain. If he is 
 inclined to think like a philofcpher, and I' ve like a 
 chriflian, he will renounce the p:itbned pleafures ot 
 the world which enervate his mind, banifh every fe« 
 rious thought, and prevent the heart from rifiag to 
 its God. i)ifguii:ed with the frivolous chimeras of 
 vanity and folly, he retires to a diftance from them 
 to contemplate his own charadler, to elevate his 
 mind to virtuous refolutions, and to refiga himfelf 
 more entirely ^ and with greater permanency to the 
 emotions of his heart. If he continues to fail upon 
 the tempeituous fea, ftill he will with prudence avoid 
 the rocks and fands of hfe ; will turn, during the 
 ilorm, from thofe dangers by which he may be 
 v/recked : and feel lefs joy in thofe hours when he 
 fails in a fair wind and favorable Iky, than in thofe 
 when he eludes the perils which furrcAind him. 
 
 To the man who has accuilomed his mind (i- 
 lently to colieci its thoughts, the hours which he 
 confecrates to God in Solitude are the happiefi of 
 his life. Every time we filently raife our minds to 
 God, we are carried back into ourfelves. We be- 
 come lefs fenfible of t!:e abfence of thofe things on 
 which we placed our happinefs ; and exp?rience 
 much lefs pain in retiring from the noife of tne worid 
 to the filence of Solitude. We acquire by degrees, 
 a more intimate knowledge of ourfelves, and learn 
 to look into the human breait with a more philo- - 
 
^ The Inpucncc of SoI'mds* 
 
 fophic eye. We fcrutinize cur character with gfea^ 
 er feverily, feel with higher fenfibiUty tiie neceffiiy 
 of reformir.g cur coiiducSl:, and refled more mature- 
 ly on that which is the end of cur lives. If we know 
 thofe things which render our anions more accept- 
 able in the fight of God, it ought to fatisfy the mhids 
 of men that we do g9cd for their fakes ; but every 
 good v/ork admits of fomany fecondary views, that 
 every motive muit neceffarily deper-d upon the di- 
 rections of the heart. Every good a£i:ioii, without 
 doubt, conveys quietude to the breafl ; but is this 
 quietude always pure ? Was not the mind merely 
 JKStuated by the confideration of profane and vi^crld- 
 iy views to gratify a tranOent pafTion, or irfluenced 
 bv felf-love rather than by the feelings of brotherly 
 atTeftlou? We certainly difcufs our thoughts and 
 aclions much better, and probe the emotions of the 
 heart with greater fmcerity, when we fele^l: for the 
 examination of great and important truths thofe 
 hours when v/e are alone before God. 
 
 It is thus that in Solitude we renounce our in- 
 timate connexion wi:h men to lock back upon the 
 tranfa£i:ions of life, to difcufs cur ccndudl in the 
 world, to prepare for ourfelves a more radonal em- 
 ployment in future, and to render an acccunt of 
 thole aftions we have yet to pc-rfcrm. It is thus 
 that the wounds whiich we have received in the hof- 
 till ties of hfe are healed. In the intervals of a reli- 
 gious retirement,virtuous refclutions are more eafi- 
 ly acquired ; the heart is mere eafily appeafed ; and 
 we dii'cover with greater certainty the fafe road 
 tiirough all the formidable perils of Hfe. It is thus 
 lint we are never lefs alone than when no human 
 being is near us, becaufe we are then in the prefence 
 of Him whofe will it is of the highefl impor ranee to 
 cur happinefs to obey. 
 
 Solitude always calls us from v/eaknefs to pow- 
 er, from feduction to refjfc;ince, from that which is 
 prefect to that which is to c: me, Alihcugh mea 
 
Tlje Injluence cf Sohtiide, 30?' 
 
 do not always enter into Solitude to commune witfi 
 God, it is neverthelefs true that they wiiliiigly quit 
 noily and tumulturas affemblies to enter into the 
 quieuide of his tranquil houfe, that they may not be 
 for ever obliged to lend themfelves to the pkafures 
 which poflefs neither delicacy nor morahty. lu ev- 
 ery peaceful moment of our exiftence we are more 
 . immen'ately u[ider the eye of Him whom it is fo 
 important to us to pleafe, and who obferves the fage 
 in his fjlent meditations. 
 
 The apollles of fociety raife every where a con- 
 tinual clamor, as if they had matters of verv high 
 importance to tr2.nfaft in tne world. Every 
 one ought certainly to do more than the ftn^l line 
 of duty calls upon him to perform ; but unhappily, . 
 we all do lefs than our duty, and le:ive the affairs of 
 the world to go on as they may. The energy ne- 
 cefiary to the performance of great actions, eleva- - 
 tion of character, and ftabiiity and firmnefs in vir- 
 tue, are no where fo eafily acquired as in Solitude, 
 and never fo efScaciouily as by Religioa. — Religioa 
 difeng-'.ges the heart from every vain defire, renders 
 it tranquil under theprellure of misfortunes, hum- 
 ble before God, bold before men, and teaches it to 
 rely with confidence upon the protection of Provi- 
 dence. Solitude and religion refine all our moral 
 fentimen' s, while we remain uninfected with the 
 leaven of fanaticifm ; and at the conclufion of a life 
 paffed in the pradice of every virtue, we receive the 
 reward for ?.ll the hours which we have confecrated 
 to God in fil ance ; of that c^-nfcious and religious 
 zeal with which we have raifed towards hira pure 
 hands and a chafte heart. 
 
 The defire for the things of this world difap- 
 pears whenever we acquire fumclent courage boldly 
 to refiga ourfelves to the fentiment, that the adua! 
 ftate of lafting content and conftant fatisfaftion of 
 the foul has probably fome anal gy to the joys of 
 eternity. A complete liberty to be and to do what. 
 
5o6 The Influence of Zolituie* 
 
 ever we pleafe, becaufe that in heaven, in thrfe re- 
 gions of Icve and kindnefs, we cannot polfefs 
 unjufi or improper irxlinaticn ; a life ' .f innocence ; 
 a juftification of the ways cf jprovi dence ; an impli- 
 cit confidence in God ; an eternal communion with 
 thofe whom our fouls loved on earth ; are, at leAfi, 
 the wifhes and the hopes which we may be, I truft, 
 permitted in our worldly apprehenfions to indulge, 
 and which fo agreeably flatter our imagiaaticn. 
 But thefe hopes and wifhes, which, at prefent, (bed 
 a glimmering light, muit remain like dreams and 
 vifions of the miiid, until the tomb, thick clouds, 
 and darknefs, no longer hide eternity from human 
 eyes ; until the veil Iball be re:iioved, and the Eter- 
 nal reveals to us thofe things which no eyes have 
 ever feen, which no er.r has ever heard, which have 
 never entered into the heart of man ; for with fi- 
 lent fubm^liion I acknowledge, that eternity, to hu^ 
 man forefight, is like that which the color cf purple 
 appeared to be in the mind of a bUnd man, who 
 
 compared it to the found of a trumpet* 
 
 in this world, Yull of reftniints and embarraff- 
 ments, of troubles and of pains, the enjoyments of 
 liberty, leifure and tranquillity, are cf ineflimabb 
 value ; every one fighs to obtain ihem.,as the failcr 
 fighs at fc-a foriind, and ilicuts with triumph when 
 he fees it ; but in order to be fenfible of their worth,, 
 it is neceflary to h'Ave felt the want of them.. We 
 refembk the inhabitant of Terra Finna^ who cannot 
 conc<:ive an idea of the feelings wJiichfill the bcfom 
 
 * Men, in general, fondly hope in eternity for all that is flattering 
 to th-eir talte, inclinationsj defires, and ps^ions on earth. I therefore 
 rntirely concur in opinion with a celehiartd German philofopher, M. 
 Carve, that thofe perfons cannot pofiefs h-umility of heart who hope 
 that God will hereafter reward them with riches and honors, it was 
 thefe fentiments which occafioned a young lady of Germany, extreme- 
 ly handfome, to fay, fhe hoped XA carry with her into the next world a 
 habit of fine filver tilTue, zoned with feathers, and towalk.in heaven 
 ♦•n carpets of role-leaves fpread upon the firmament. This, ajfo, was 
 the reafon wliy, in a full aflembly of women of f.,ihion, where the quef- 
 tion was agitated, whether marriages were good to ali eteinityj they ail 
 vinanimoufly ex«Uiaied, G(.d yrejerve ut from U% 
 
The Infdimc-of SoUiiide, ^^-j 
 
 of a navigator. For myfelf, I do not know a more 
 comfortable notion, than that eternity proniiles ci 
 coi2ftant and uninterrupted tranquillity, although I 
 perfectly feel that it is not pofnbla to form any ideii 
 of the nature of that enjoyment which is produced 
 by the happinefs without end. An eternal tran- 
 quillity is the highefl: happinefs of my imagination, 
 for I know of no felicity upon earth that can equal 
 peace of mind. 
 
 Since therefore internal and external tranquil- 
 lity is upon earth an inconteftlble commencement of 
 beatitude^ it may bs extremely ufeful to believe, that 
 in a rational and moderate abfence from the tumults 
 of fociety, we may acquire faculties of the foul 
 which are elements of that happinefs we expedi: to 
 enjoy in the worl J to come. 
 
 I now conclude my Re{ie£blons upon the Ad- 
 vantages of Solitude to the Heart. May they give 
 greater currency to ufeful fentiments, to confolato- 
 ry truths, and contribute, in fome degree, to dilFufe 
 the enjoyment of a happinefs which is fo much 
 within our reach ! All my defires will then be fatis- 
 fied. As for the reit, let every one live according 
 to his inclination, exercife Virtue where he pleales, 
 and procure at his option Pleafure, in the enjoyment 
 of which he will be certain of receiving, both here 
 and hereafter^ the approbation of God and his Qvm 
 confcieac^. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 PREFJCE of the French Tranjlator . 3 
 
 Lift* Zimmchfidri • * . ^ 
 
 CHAP. L 
 
 IntroduBion - . - ■ - 29 
 
 CHAP. ir. 
 
 The general Advontages of Solitude • « 34 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 The Jnfuence of Solitude upon the Mind • - 90 
 
 C H A P, IV. 
 The Lrfluence of SoUtiide upon the Heart - i8S 
 
BOOK S 
 
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 Letters of Werter and Charlotte - - 100 
 
 Wonderful Stor^'^ Teller - - - loa 
 
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