Ah! that thought distracts me: labour becomes painful, and society
irksome. Would to heaven that war were declared in India! I would go there
and die.'
"'My son,' I answered, 'that courage which, prompts us to court death is
but the courage of a moment, and is often excited by the vain hopes of
posthumous fame. There is a species of courage more necessary, and more
rare, which makes us support, without witness, and without applause, the
various vexations of life; and that is, patience. Leaning not upon the
opinions of others, but upon the will of God, patience is the courage of
virtue.'
"'Ah!' cried he,' I am then without virtue! Every thing overwhelms and
distracts me.'
"'Equal, constant, and invariable virtue,' I replied, 'belongs not to man.'
In the midst of so many passions, by which we are agitated, our reason is
disordered and obscured: but there is an ever-burning lamp, at which we can
rekindle its flame; and that is, literature.
"'Literature, my dear son, is the gift of Heaven; a ray of that wisdom
which governs the universe; and which man, inspired by celestial
intelligence, has drawn down to earth. Like the sun, it enlightens, it
rejoices, it warms with a divine flame, and seems, in some sort, like the
element of fire, to bend all nature to our use. By the aid of literature,
we bring around us all things, all places, men, and times. By its aid we
calm the passions, suppress vice, and excite virtue.
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