While thus absorbed, a sound struck my ear, like the agitation of a flowing robe, or that of slow footsteps on dry and rustling grass. Startled, I opened my mantle, and looking about with fear and trembling, suddenly, on my left, by the glimmering light of the moon, through the columns and ruins of a neighboring temple, I thought I saw an apparition, pale, clothed in large and flowing robes, such as spectres are painted rising from their tombs. I shuddered: and while agitated and hesitating whether to fly or to advance toward the object, a distinct voice, in solemn tones, pronounced these words:
How long will man importune heaven with unjust complaint? How long, with vain clamors, will he accuse Fate as the author of his calamities? Will he forever shut his eyes to the light, and his heart to the admonitions of truth and reason? The light of truth meets him everywhere; yet he sees it not! The voice of reason strikes his ear; and he hears it not! Unjust man! if for a moment thou canst suspend the delusion which fascinates thy senses, if thy heart can comprehend the language of reason, interrogate these ruins! Read the lessons which they present to thee! And you, evidences of twenty centuries, holy temples! venerable tombs! walls once so glorious, appear in the cause of nature herself! Approach the tribunal of sound reason, and bear testimony against unjust accusations! Come and confound the declamations of a false wisdom or hypocritical piety, and avenge the heavens and the earth of man who calumniates them both!
What is that blind fatality, which without order and without law, sports with the destiny of mortals? What is that unjust necessity, which confounds the effect of actions, whether of wisdom or of folly? In what consist the anathemas of heaven over this land? Where is that divine malediction which perpetuates the abandonment of these fields? Say, monuments of past ages! have the heavens changed their laws and the earth its motion? Are the fires of the sun extinct in the regions of space? Do the seas no longer emit their vapors? Are the rains and the dews suspended in the air? Do the mountains withhold their springs? Are the streams dried up? And do the plants no longer bear fruit and seed? Answer, generation of falsehood and iniquity, hath God deranged the primitive and settled order of things which he himself assigned to nature? Hath heaven denied to earth, and earth to its inhabitants, the blessings they formerly dispensed? If nothing hath changed in the creation, if the same means now exist which before existed, why then are not the present what former generations were? Ah! it is falsely that you accuse fate and heaven! it is unjustly that you accuse God as the cause of your evils! Say, perverse and hypocritical race! if these places are desolate, if these powerful cities are reduced to solitude, is it God who has caused their ruin? Is it his hand which has overthrown these walls, destroyed these temples, mutilated these columns, or is it the hand of man? Is it the arm of God which has carried the sword into your cities, and fire into your fields, which has slaughtered the people, burned the harvests, rooted up trees, and ravaged the pastures, or is it the hand of man? And when, after the destruction of crops, famine has ensued, is it the vengeance of God which has produced it, or the mad fury of mortals? When, sinking under famine, the people have fed on impure aliments, if pestilence ensues, is it the wrath of God which sends it, or the folly of man? When war, famine and pestilence, have swept away the inhabitants, if the earth remains a desert, is it God who has depopulated it? Is it his rapacity which robs the husbandman, ravages the fruitful fields, and wastes the earth, or is it the rapacity of those who govern? Is it his pride which excites murderous wars, or the pride of kings and their ministers? Is it the venality of his decisions which overthrows the fortunes of families, or the corruption of the organs of the law? Are they his passions which, under a thousand forms, torment individuals and nations, or are they the passions of man? And if, in the anguish of their miseries, they see not the remedies, is it the ignorance of God which is to blame, or their ignorance? Cease then, mortals, to accuse the decrees of Fate, or the judgments of the Divinity! If God is good, will he be the author of your misery? If he is just, will he be the accomplice of your crimes? No, the caprice of which man complains is not the caprice of fate; the darkness that misleads his reason is not the darkness of God; the source of his calamities is not in the distant heavens, it is beside him on the earth; it is not concealed in the bosom of the divinity; it dwells within himself, he bears it in his own heart.
Thou murmurest and sayest: What! have an infidel people then enjoyed the blessings of heaven and earth? Are the holy people of God less fortunate than the races of impiety? Deluded man! where then is the contradiction which offends thee? Where is the inconsistency which thou imputest to the justice of heaven? Take into thine own hands the balance of rewards and punishments, of causes and effects. Say: when these infidels observed the laws of the heavens and the earth, when they regulated well-planned labors by the order of the seasons and the course of the stars, should the Almighty have disturbed the equilibrium of the universe to defeat their prudence? When their hands cultivated these fields with toil and care, should he have diverted the course of the rains, suspended the refreshing dews, and planted crops of thorns? When, to render these arid fields productive, their industry constructed aqueducts, dug canals, and led the distant waters across the desert, should he have dried up their sources in the mountains? Should he have blasted the harvests which art had nourished, wasted the plains which peace had peopled, overthrown cities which labor had created, or disturbed the order established by the wisdom of man? And what is that infidelity which founded empires by its prudence, defended them by its valor, and strengthened them by its justice—which built powerful cities, formed capacious ports, drained pestilential marshes, covered the ocean with ships, the earth with inhabitants; and, like the creative spirit, spread life and motion throughout the world? If such be infidelity, what then is the true faith? Doth sanctity consist in destruction? The God who peoples the air with birds, the earth with animals, the waters with fishes—the God who animates all nature—is he then a God of ruins and tombs? Demands he devastation for homage, and conflagration for sacrifice? Requires he groans for hymns, murderers for votaries, a ravaged and desolate earth for his temple? Behold then, holy and believing people, what are your works! behold the fruits of your piety! You have massacred the people, burned their cities, destroyed cultivation, reduced the earth to a solitude; and you ask the reward of your works! Miracles then must be performed! The people whom you extirpated must be recalled to life, the walls rebuilt which you have overthrown, the harvests reproduced which you have destroyed, the waters regathered which you have dispersed; the laws, in fine, of heaven and earth reversed; those laws, established by God himself, in demonstration of his magnificence and wisdom; those eternal laws, anterior to all codes, to all the prophets those immutable laws, which neither the passions nor the ignorance of man can pervert. But that passion which mistaketh, that ignorance which observeth neither causes nor effects, hath said in its folly: "All things flow from chance; a blind fatality poureth out good and evil upon the earth; success is not to the prudent, nor felicity to the wise;" or, assuming the language of hypocrisy, she hath said, "all things are from God; he taketh pleasure in deceiving wisdom and confounding reason." And Ignorance, applauding herself in her malice, hath said, "thus will I place myself on a par with that science which confounds me—thus will I excel that prudence which fatigues and torments me." And Avarice hath added: "I will oppress the weak, and devour the fruits of his labors; and I will say, it is fate which hath so ordained." But I! I swear by the laws of heaven and earth, and by the law which is written in the heart of man, that the hypocrite shall be deceived in his cunning—the oppressor in his rapacity! The sun shall change his course, before folly shall prevail over wisdom and knowledge, or ignorance surpass prudence, in the noble and sublime art of procuring to man his true enjoyments, and of building his happiness on an enduring foundation.
Thus spoke the Phantom. Confused with this discourse, and my heart agitated with different reflections, I remained long in silence. At length, taking courage, I thus addressed him: Oh, Genius of tombs and ruins! Thy presence, thy severity, hath disordered my senses; but the justice of thy discourse restoreth confidence to my soul. Pardon my ignorance. Alas, if man is blind, shall his misfortune be also his crime? I may have mistaken the voice of reason; but never, knowingly, have I rejected its authority. Ah! if thou readest my heart, thou knowest with what enthusiasm it seeketh truth. Is it not in its pursuit that thou seest me in this sequestered spot? Alas! I have wandered over the earth, I have visited cities and countries; and seeing everywhere misery and desolation, a sense of the evils which afflict my fellow men hath deeply oppressed my soul. I have said, with a sigh: is man then born but for sorrow and anguish? And I have meditated upon human misery that I might discover a remedy. I have said, I will separate myself from the corruption of society; I will retire far from palaces where the mind is depraved by satiety and from the hovel where it is debased by misery. I will go into the desert and dwell among ruins; I will interrogate ancient monuments on the wisdom of past ages; I will invoke from the bosom of the tombs the spirit which once in Asia gave splendor to states, and glory to nations; I will ask of the ashes of legislators, by what secret causes do empires rise and fall; from what sources spring the Prosperity and misfortunes of nations, on what principles can the Peace of Society, and the happiness of man be established?
I ceased, and with submissive look awaited the answer of the Genius.
Peace and happiness, said he, attend those who practice justice! Since thy heart, O mortal, with sincerity seeketh truth; since thine eyes can still recognize her through the mist of prejudice, thy prayer shall not be in vain. I will unfold to thy view that truth thou invokest; I will teach thy reason that knowledge thou seekest; I will reveal to thee the science of ages and the wisdom of the tombs.
Then approaching and laying his hand on my head, he said:
Rise, mortal, and extricate thy senses from the dust in which thou movest.
Suddenly a celestial flame seemed to dissolve the bands which held us to the earth; and, like a light vapor, borne on the wings of the Genius, I felt myself wafted to the regions above. Thence, from the aerial heights, looking down upon the earth, I perceived a scene altogether new. Under my feet, floating in the void, a globe like that of the moon, but smaller and less luminous, presented to me one of its phases; and that phase* had the aspect of a disk varigated with large spots, some white and nebulous, others brown, green or gray, and while I strained my sight to distinguish what they were, the Genius exclaimed:
* See Plate representing half the terrestrial globe,
opposite page 10.
Disciple of Truth, knowest thou that object?
O Genius, answered I, if I did not see the moon in another quarter of the heavens, I should have supposed that to be her globe. It has the appearance of that planet seen through the telescope during the obscuration of an eclipse. These varigated spots might be mistaken for seas and continents.
They are seas and continents, said he, and those of the very hemisphere which you inhabit.
What! said I, is that the earth—the habitation of man?
Yes, replied he, that brown space which occupies irregularly a great portion of the disk, and envelops it almost on every side, is what you call the great ocean, which advancing from the south pole towards the equator, forms first the great gulf of India and Africa, then extends eastward across the Malay islands to the confines of Tartary, while towards the west it encircles the continents of Africa and of Europe, even to the north of Asia.
That square peninsula under our feet is the arid country of the Arabs; the great continent on its left, almost as naked in its interior, with a little verdure only towards its borders, is the parched soil inhabited by black-men.* To the north, beyond a long, narrow and irregular sea,** are the countries of Europe, rich in meadows and cultivated fields. On its right, from the Caspian Sea, extend the snowy and naked plains of Tartary. Returning in this direction that white space is the vast and barren desert of Cobi, which separates China from the rest of the world. You see that empire in the furrowed plain which obliquely rounds itself off from our sight. On yonder coasts, those ragged tongues of land and scattered points are the peninsulas and islands of the Malays, the wretched possessors of the spices and perfumes. That triangle which advances so far into the sea, is the too famous peninsula of India.*** You see the winding course of the Ganges, the rough mountains of Thibet, the lovely valley of Cachemere, the briny deserts of Persia, the banks of the Euphrates and Tygris, the deep bed of the Jordan and the canals of the solitary Nile.
* Africa.
** The Mediterranean.
*** Of what real good has been the commerce of India to the
mass of the people? On the contrary, how great the evil
occasioned by the superstition of this country having been
added the general superstition!
O Genius, said I, interrupting him, the sight of a mortal reaches not to objects at such a distance. He touched my eyes, and immediately they became piercing as those of an eagle; nevertheless the rivers still appeared like waving lines, the mountains winding furrows, and the cities little compartments like the squares of a chess-board.
And the Genius proceeded to enumerate and point out the objects to me: Those piles of ruins, said he, which you see in that narrow valley watered by the Nile, are the remains of opulent cities, the pride of the ancient kingdom of Ethiopia.* Behold the wrecks of her metropolis, of Thebes with her hundred palaces,** the parent of cities, and monument of the caprice of destiny. There a people, now forgotten, discovered, while others were yet barbarians, the elements of the arts and sciences. A race of men now rejected from society for their sable skin and frizzled hair, founded on the study of the laws of nature, those civil and religious systems which still govern the universe. Lower down, those dusky points are the pyramids whose masses have astonished you. Beyond that, the coast, hemmed in between the sea and a narrow ridge of mountains, was the habitation of the Phoenicians. These were the famous cities of Tyre, of Sidon, of Ascalon, of Gaza, and of Berytus. That thread of water with no outlet, is the river Jordan; and those naked rocks were once the theatre of events that have resounded throughout the world. Behold that desert of Horeb, and that Mount Sinai; where, by means beyond vulgar reach, a genius, profound and bold, established institutions which have weighed on the whole human race. On that dry shore which borders it, you perceive no longer any trace of splendor; yet there was an emporium of riches. There were those famous Ports of Idumea, whence the fleets of Phoenicia and Judea, coasting the Arabian peninsula, went into the Persian gulf, to seek there the pearls of Hevila, the gold of Saba and of Ophir. Yes, there on that coast of Oman and of Barhain was the seat of that commerce of luxuries, which, by its movements and revolutions, fixed the destinies of ancient nations.*** Thither came the spices and precious stones of Ceylon, the shawls of Cassimere, the diamonds of Golconda, the amber of Maldivia, the musk of Thibet, the aloes of Cochin, the apes and peacocks of the continent of India, the incense of Hadramaut, the myrrh, the silver, the gold dust and ivory of Africa; thence passing, sometimes by the Red Sea on the vessels of Egypt and Syria, these luxuries nourished successively the wealth of Thebes, of Sidon, of Memphis and of Jerusalem; sometimes, ascending the Tygris and Euphrates, they awakened the activity of the Assyrians, Medes, Chaldeans, and Persians; and that wealth, according to the use or abuse of it, raised or reversed by turns their domination. Hence sprung the magnificence of Persepolis, whose columns you still perceive; of Ecbatana, whose sevenfold wall is destroyed; of Babylon,**** now leveled with the earth; of Nineveh, of which scarce the name remains; of Thapsacus, of Anatho, of Gerra, and of desolated Palmyra. O names for ever glorious! fields of renown! countries of never-dying memory! what sublime lessons doth your aspect offer! what profound truths are written on the surface of your soil! remembrances of times past, return into my mind! places, witnesses of the life of man in so many different ages, retrace for me the revolutions of his fortune! say, what were their springs and secret causes! say, from what sources he derived success and disgrace! unveil to himself the causes of his evils! correct him by the spectacle of his errors! teach him the wisdom which belongeth to him, and let the experience of past ages become a means of instruction, and a germ of happiness to present and future generations.
* In the new Encyclopedia 3rd vol. Antiquities is published
a memoir, respecting the chronology of the twelve ages
anterior to the passing of Xerxes into Greece, in which I
conceive myself to have proved that upper Egypt formerly
composed a distinct kingdom known to the Hebrews by the name
of Kous and to which the appellation of Ethiopia was
specially given. This kingdom preserved its independence to
the time of Psammeticus; at which period, being united to
the Lower Egypt, it lost its name of Ethiopia, which
thenceforth was bestowed upon the nations of Nubia and upon
the different tribes of blacks, including Thebes, their
metropolis.
** The idea of a city with a hundred gates, in the common
acceptation of the word, is so absurd, that I am astonished
the equivoque has not before been felt.
It has ever been the custom of the East to call palaces and
houses of the great by the name of gates, because the
principal luxury of these buildings consists in the singular
gate leading from the street into the court, at the farthest
extremity of which the palace is situated. It is under the
vestibule of this gate that conversation is held with
passengers, and a sort of audience and hospitality given.
All this was doubtless known to Homer; but poets make no
commentaries, and readers love the marvellous.
This city of Thebes, now Lougsor, reduced to the condition
of a miserable village, has left astonishing monuments of
its magnificence. Particulars of this may be seen in the
plates of Norden, in Pocock, and in the recent travels of
Bruce. These monuments give credibility to all that Homer
has related of its splendor, and lead us to infer its
political power and external commerce.
Its geographical position was favorable to this twofold
object. For, on one side, the valley of the Nile, singularly
fertile, must have early occasioned a numerous population;
and, on the other, the Red Sea, giving communication with
Arabia and India, and the Nile with Abyssinia and the
Mediterranean, Thebes was thus naturally allied to the
richest countries on the globe; an alliance that procured it
an activity so much the greater, as Lower Egypt, at first a
swamp, was nearly, if not totally, uninhabited. But when at
length this country had been drained by the canals and dikes
which Sesostris constructed, population was introduced
there, and wars arose which proved fatal to the power of
Thebes. Commerce then took another route, and descended to
the point of the Red Sea, to the canals of Sesostris (see
Strabo), and wealth and activity were transferred to
Memphis. This is manifestly what Diodorus means when he
tells us (lib. i. sect. 2), that as soon as Memphis was
established and made a wholesome and delicious abode, kings
abandoned Thebes to fix themselves there. Thus Thebes
continued to decline, and Memphis to flourish, till the time
of Alexander, who, building Alexandria on the border of the
sea, caused Memphis to fall in its turn; so that prosperity
and power seem to have descended historically step by step
along the Nile; whence it results, both physically and
historically, that the existence of Thebes was prior to that
of the other cities. The testimony of writers is very
positive in this respect. "The Thebans," says Diodorus,
"consider themselves as the most ancient people of the
earth, and assert, that with them originated philosophy and
the science of the stars. Their situation, it is true, is
infinitely favorable to astronomical observation, and they
have a more accurate division of time into mouths and years
than other nations" etc.
What Diodorus says of the Thebans, every author, and himself
elsewhere, repeat of the Ethiopians, which tends more firmly
to establish the identity of this place of which I have
spoken. "The Ethiopians conceive themselves," says he, lib.
iii., "to be of greater antiquity than any other nation: and
it is probable that, born under the sun's path, its warmth
may have ripened them earlier than other men. They suppose
themselves also to be the inventors of divine worship, of
festivals, of solemn assemblies, of sacrifices, and every
other religious practice. They affirm that the Egyptians
are one of their colonies, and that the Delta, which was
formerly sea, became land by the conglomeration of the earth
of the higher country which was washed down by the Nile.
They have, like the Egyptians, two species of letters,
hieroglyphics, and the alphabet; but among the Egyptians the
first was known only to the priests, and by them transmitted
from father to son, whereas both species were common among
the Ethiopians."
"The Ethiopians," says Lucian, page 985, "were the first who
invented the science of the stars, and gave names to the
planets, not at random and without meaning, but descriptive
of the qualities which they conceived them to possess; and
it was from them that this art passed, still in an imperfect
state, to the Egyptians."
It would be easy to multiply citations upon this subject;
from all which it follows, that we have the strongest
reasons to believe that the country neighboring to the
tropic was the cradle of the sciences, and of consequence
that the first learned nation was a nation of Blacks; for it
is incontrovertible, that, by the term Ethiopians, the
ancients meant to represent a people of black complexion,
thick lips, and woolly hair. I am therefore inclined to
believe, that the inhabitants of Lower Egypt were originally
a foreign colony imported from Syria and Arabia, a medley of
different tribes of savages, originally shepherds and
fishermen, who, by degrees formed themselves into a nation,
and who, by nature and descent, were enemies of the Thebans,
by whom they were no doubt despised and treated as
barbarians.
I have suggested the same ideas in my Travels into Syria,
founded upon the black complexion of the Sphinx. I have
since ascertained that the antique images of Thebias have
the same characteristic; and Mr. Bruce has offered a
multitude of analogous facts; but this traveller, of whom I
heard some mention at Cairo, has so interwoven these facts
with certain systematic opinions, that we should have
recourse to his narratives with caution.
It is singular that Africa, situated so near us, should be
the least known country on the earth. The English are at
this moment making explorations, the success of which ought
to excite our emulation.
*** Ailah (Eloth), and Atsiom-Gaber (Hesien-Geber.) The
name of the first of these towns still subsists in its
ruins, at the point of the gulf of the Red Sea, and in the
route which the pilgrims take to Mecca. Hesion has at
present no trace, any more than Quolzoum and Faran: it was,
however, the harbor for the fleets of Solomon. The vessels
of this prince conducted by the Tyrians, sailed along the
coast of Arabia to Ophir, in the Persian Gulf, thus opening
a communication with the merchants of India and Ceylon.
That this navigation was entirely of Tyrian invention,
appears both from the pilots and shipbuilders employed by
the Jews, and the names that were given to the trading
islands, viz. Tyrus and Aradus, now Barhain. The voyage was
performed in two different modes, either in canoes of osier
and rushes, covered on the outside with skins done over with
pitch: (these vessels were unable to quit the Red Sea, or so
much as to leave the shore.) The second mode of carrying on
the trade was by means of vessels with decks of the size of
our river boats, which were able to pass the strait and to
weather the dangers of time ocean; but for this purpose it
was necessary to bring the wood from Mount Libanus and
Cilicia, where it is very fine and in great abundance. This
wood was first conveyed in floats from Tarsus to Phoenicia,
for which reason the vessels were called ships of Tarsus;
from whence it has been ridiculously inferred, that they
went round the promontory of Africa as far as Tortosa in
Spain. From Phoenicia it was transported on the backs of
camels to the Red Sea, which practice still continues,
because the shores of this sea are absolutely unprovided
with wood even for fuel. These vessels spent a complete
year in their voyage, that is, sailed one year, sojourned
another, and did not return till the third. This
tediousness was owing first to their cruising from port to
port, as they do at present; secondly, to their being
detained by the Monsoon currents; and thirdly, because,
according to the calculations of Pliny and Strabo, it was
the ordinary practice among the ancients to spend three
years in a voyage of twelve hundred leagues. Such a
commerce must have been very expensive, particularly as they
were obliged to carry with them their provisions, and even
fresh water. For this reason Solomon made himself master of
Palmyra, which was at that time inhabited, and was already
the magazine and high road of merchants by the way of the
Euphrates. This conquest brought Solomon much nearer to the
country of gold and pearls. This alternative of a route
either by the Red Sea or by the river Euphrates was to the
ancients, what in later times has been the alternative in a
voyage to the Indies, either by crossing the isthmus of Suez
or doubling the cape of Good Hope. It appears that till the
time of Moses, this trade was carried on across the desert
of Syria and Thebais; that afterwards it fell into the hands
of the Phoenicians, who fixed its site upon the Red Sea; and
that it was mutual jealousy that induced the kings of
Nineveh and Babylon to undertake the destruction of Tyre and
Jerusalem. I insist the more upon these facts, because I
have never seen any thing reasonable upon the subject.
**** It appears that Babylon occupied on the eastern banks
of the Euphrates a space of ground six leagues in length.
Throughout this space bricks are found by means of which
daily additions are made to the town of Helle. Upon many of
these are characters written with a nail similar to those of
Persepolis. I am indebted for these facts to M. de
Beauchamp, grand vicar of Babylon, a traveller equally
distinguished for his knowledge of astronomy and for his
veracity.
The Genius, after some moments of silence, resumed in these words:
I have told thee already, O friend of truth! that man vainly ascribes his misfortunes to obscure and imaginary agents; in vain he seeks as the source of his evils mysterious and remote causes. In the general order of the universe his condition is, doubtless, subject to inconveniences, and his existence governed by superior powers; but those powers are neither the decrees of a blind fatality, nor the caprices of whimsical and fantastic beings. Like the world of which he forms a part, man is governed by natural laws, regular in their course, uniform in their effects, immutable in their essence; and those laws,—the common source of good and evil,—are not written among the distant stars, nor hidden in codes of mystery; inherent in the nature of terrestrial beings, interwoven with their existence, at all times and in all places, they are present to man; they act upon his senses, they warn his understanding, and give to every action its reward or punishment. Let man then know these laws! let him comprehend the nature of the elements which surround him, and also his own nature, and he will know the regulators of his destiny; he will know the causes of his evils and the remedies he should apply.
When the hidden power which animates the universe, formed the globe which man inhabits, he implanted in the beings composing it, essential properties which became the law of their individual motion, the bond of their reciprocal relations, the cause of the harmony of the whole; he thereby established a regular order of causes and effects, of principles and consequences, which, under an appearance of chance, governs the universe, and maintains the equilibrium of the world. Thus, he gave to fire, motion and activity; to air, elasticity; weight and density to matter; he made air lighter than water, metal heavier than earth, wood less cohesive than steel; he decreed flame to ascend, stones to fall, plants to vegetate; to man, who was to be exposed to the action of so many different beings, and still to preserve his frail life, he gave the faculty of sensation. By this faculty all action hurtful to his existence gives him a feeling of pain and evil, and all which is salutary, of pleasure and happiness. By these sensations, man, sometimes averted from that which wounds his senses, sometimes allured towards that which soothes them, has been obliged to cherish and preserve his own life; thus, self-love, the desire of happiness, aversion to pain, become the essential and primary laws imposed on man by nature herself—the laws which the directing power, whatever it be, has established for his government—and which laws, like those of motion in the physical world, are the simple and fruitful principle of whatever happens in the moral world.
Such, then, is the condition of man: on one side, exposed to the action of the elements which surround him, he is subject to many inevitable evils; and if, in this decree, nature has been severe, on the other hand, just and even indulgent she has not only tempered the evils with equivalent good, she has also enabled him to increase the good and alleviate the evil. She seems to say:
"Feeble work of my hands, I owe thee nothing, and I give thee life; the world wherein I placed thee was not made for thee, yet I give thee the use of it; thou wilt find in it a mixture of good and evil; it is for thee to distinguish them; for thee to guide thy footsteps in a path containing thorns as well as roses. Be the arbiter of thine own fate; I put thy destiny into thine own hands!"
Yes, man is made the architect of his own destiny; he, himself, hath been the cause of the successes or reverses of his own fortune; and if, on a review of all the pains with which he has tormented his own life, he finds reason to weep over his own weakness or imprudence yet, considering the beginnings from which he sat out, and the height attained, he has, perhaps, still reason to presume on his strength, and to pride himself on his genius.
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