CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. THE ADVANTAGES OF SOLITUDE IN OLD AGE; AND ON THE BED OF DEATH. THE decline of life, and particularly the con dition of old age, derive from Solitude the pureft sources of uninterrupted enjoyment. Old age, when confidered as a period of comparative quietude and repose, as a serious and contemplative interval between a tranfitory exiftence and an approaching immortality, is, perhaps, the most agreeable condition of human life: a condition to which Solitude affords a fecure harbour against thofe fhattering tempefts to which the frail bark of man is continually expofed in the fhort, but dangerous, voyage of the world; a harbour from whence he may fecurely view the rocks and quickfands which threatened his destruction, and which he has fo happily efcaped. MEN are by nature disposed to investigate the various properties of diftant objects before they think of contemplating their own characters: like modern travellers, who vifit foreign coun tries before they are acquainted with their own, But prudence will exhort the young, and experience teach the aged, to conduct themselves on very different principles; and both the one and the other, will find that Solitude and felf-examination are the beginning and the end of true wifdom. O! loft to virtue, loft to manly thought, Who think it Solitude to be alone. Communion fweet! communion large and high! Our Reason, guardian angel, and our God, Then nearest thefe when others moft remote ; And all, ere long, fhall be remote but these. The levity of youth, by this communion large and high, will be repreffed, and the depreffion which sometimes accompanies old age entirely removed. An unceafing fucceffion of gay hopes, fond defires, ardent wishes, high delights, and unfounded fancies, form the character of our early years; but thofe which follow are marked with melancholy and increafing forrows. A mind, however, that is invigorated by obfervation and experience, remains dauntlefs and unmoved amidst both the profperities and adverfities of life. He who is no longer forced to exert his powers, and who, at an early period of his life, has well ftudied the manners of men, will com plain very little of the ingratitude with which his favours and anxieties have been requited. All he afks is, that the world will let him alone; and having a thorough knowledge, not only of his own character, but of mankind, he is enabled to enjoy the comforts of repose.* It is finely remarked by a celebrated German, that there are political as well as religious Carthufians, and that both orders are fometimes compofed O 2 Worldly hopes expire in old age; and if he who has attained that period has not provided himself with another hope, a man of years and a man of mifery mean the fame thing. There fore the fame fteps are to be taken, whether we would fweeten the remaining dregs of life, or provide a triumph for eternity. There is a noble abfence from earth while we are yet on it. There is a noble intimacy with heaven while we are yet beneath it. And can it be hard for us to lay aside this world, fince they that have fared best in it have only the feweft objections against it? The worldly wishes which an old man fends out are like Noah's doves; they cannot find whereon to light, and must return to his own heart again for reft. Out of pure decency to the dignity of human nature, of which the decays and imperfections fhould not be exposed, men in years should, by Retirement, fling a veil over them, and be, with refpect to the world, at least a little buried before they are interred. An old man's too great familiarity with the public, is an indignity to the human and a neglect of the divine nature. His fancying himself to be still properly one of this world, and on a common footing with the rest of mankind, is as if a man getting drunk in the morning, after a long nap, lifting his drowsy eylids at fun-set, should take it for break of day. Dr. Young's Letters. compofed of moft excellent aud pious characters. "It is," fays this admirable writer," in the "deepest and most sequestered recesses of forefts "that we meet with the peaceful fage, the calm "observer, the friend of truth, and the lover of "his country, who renders himself beloved by his "wisdom, revered for his knowledge, refpected "for his veracity, and adored for his benevolence; "whose confidence and friendship every one is "anxious to gain; and who excites admiration by "the eloquence of his conversation, and esteem "by the virtue of his actions; while he raises "wonder by the obfcurity of his name, and the "mode of his exiftence. The giddy multitude "folicit him to relinquifh his folitude, and seat "himself on the throne; but they perceive in"fcribed on his forehead, beaming with facred fire, "Odi profanum vulgus et arceo ; and instead of be"ing his feducers, become his difciples." But, alas! this extraordinary character, whom I saw fome years ago in Weteravia, who inspired me with filial reverence and affection, and whose animated countenance announced the fuperior wifdom and happy tranquillity of his mind, is now no more. There did not perhaps at that time exist in any court a more profound statesman: he was intimately acquainted with all, and corresponded perfonally with some of the most celebrated Sovereigns of Europe. I never met with an observer who who penetrated with fuch quick and accurate fagacity into the minds and characters of men, who formed fuch true opinions of the world, or criticised with fuch difcerning accuracy the actions of those who were playing important parts on its various theatres. There never was a mind more free, more enlarged, more powerful, or more engaging; or an eye more lively and inquifitive. He was the man, of all others, in whofe company I could have lived with the highest pleasure, and died with the greatest comfort. The rural habitation in which he lived was fimple in its ftructure, and modest in its attire; the furrounding grounds and gardens laid out in the happy fimplicity of nature; and his fare healthy and frugal. I never felt a charm more powerful than that which filled my bofom while I contemplated the happy Solitude of the venerable Baron de Schautenbach at Wetaravia. ROUSSEAU, feeling his end approach, also passed the few remaining years of an uneasy life in Solitude. It was during old age that he compofed the best and greater part of his admirable works; but, although he employed his time with judicious activity, his feelings had been too deeply wounded by the perfecutions of the world, to enable him to find complete tranquillity in the bowers of retirement. Unhappily he continued ignorant of the danger of his fituation, until the vexations O 3 |