Charles Sumner; his complete works; Volume 2 (of 20)

nly according to those from whom it proceeds, the way is prepared for the second qu

tianity which ordain exalted duties as the rule of life, this inquir

e to public affairs, inculcated a similar contempt. His views were expressed sententiously in the precept of his school, Conceal thy life; and he did not hesitate to warn against regulating conduct by the opinion of others or the reputation of the world. Montaigne has pleasant

Aristotle regarded it as the greatest and most invaluable of external goods, and warned against two extremes, both, in his opinion, equally vicious,-excess in see

eme motive and reward, and the seductive eloquence with which he commends it as an object of vehement and perpetual ambition. On his return from those studies in Athens by which his skill as an orator was so much enhanced, he consulted the Oracle at Delphi, not to learn how best his great powers and accomplishments might be devoted to the good of mankind, but by what means he might soonest arrive at the height of Glory. The answer of the Oracle, though imperfect and heathen, was in a higher mood than the inqu

ace of men."[200] And again, in the calmness of those philosophical speculations by which his name is exalted, not less than by the eloquence which crushed Catiline, won the clemency of C?sar, and blasted the character of Antony, he declares that "Glory is the united praise of the good, the incorrupt voice of the true judges of emin

influenced by the love of praise, and the best are chiefly moved by Glory. The philosophers themselves inscribe their names even in those little books which they write on contempt of Glory; in the very productions in which they express disdain of Praise and Fame they wish to gain Praise and Fame for themselves.... And now, O judges, I will declare myself to you, and confess to you my love of Glory, too strong, perhaps, but nevertheless honorable.... For virtue desires no other reward of its toils and dangers than Praise and Glory: this being withdrawn, what is there in our poor brief career of life that can induce us to undertake such great labors? Surely, if the soul did not look forward to posterity, if all its though

hich he vindicates to himself by the remarkable expression, that an epistle does not blush, he invites his friend Lucceius to undertake the history of that portion of his life rendered memorable by the overthrow of the Catilinarian conspiracy, his exile, and return to his country; and, not content with dwelling on the variety and startling nature of the incidents, with the scope they would naturally afford to the accomplished historian, whose Glory, he subtly suggests, may in this way be connected forever with his own, a

ot fail to exert a too magical charm over the young, especially where its lessons harmonize with the weakness rather than with the sternness of our nature,-with the instinctive promptings of selfishness, rather than with that disinterestedness which places duty, without hope of reward, without fear or favor, above all human consideration. It is most tru

one of his early letters he said that he wished "absolutely to make Cicero his model";[205] while in another he shows himself a true disciple, by loyalty to the same motive of conduct which animated the Roman. "Do not imagine," says Jones, "that I despise the usual enjoyments of youth. No one can take more delight in singing and da

r, by careful analysis, to comprehend the just office of this sent

ere and hereafter engross the soul. The child is sensitive to it in earliest dalliance on a parent's knee. Here is an element of that unamiable selfishness which pervades his crude nature, rendering him jealous and envious of caress and praise bestowed upon another. His little bosom palpitates with unrestrained ardors, which in

ted by the desire of excelling. I do not mention this for any austere criticism, but as a psychological fact. And when preparation gives place to action, then this same sentiment, which absorbed the child and animated the youth,

the clear spi

infirmity o

s and live labor

, and draws from it fresh inspiration to labor; and even if he writes against Glory, it is, according to Pascal, for the Glory of writing well. This is the Love of Glory, a sentiment which lurks in every stage and sphere of life,-with the young, the middle-aged, and the old,-with the lowly, the moderate, and the great,-under as many aliases as a culprit,-but, in all its different forms and guises, having one simple animating essence, the passion for the a

is like the love of wealth or the love of power, desires which all feel in a certain degree to be part of their being. Recognizing it, then, as an endowment from the hand of God

ill directed, are elements of every human soul. The desire of Justice, filling us with the love of Duty, is the sentiment which fits us to receive and comprehend the sublime injunction of doing unto others as we would have them do unto us. In the predominance of this sentiment, enlightened by intelli

at even an act of Justice and Benevolence loses something of its charm when known to be inspired by the selfish desire of hu

pult? dist

virtu

will be honest, but from a higher motive than because honesty is the best policy.

ose of maturer age who are not moved by the simple appeals of duty, unless the smiles of mankind attend them. It were churlish not to offer homage to those acts by which happiness is promoted, even

lth, and blush t

g rarity. It cannot be disguised, however, that much is gained where the desire of praise acts in conjunction with t

quoted, "But it is that popularity which follows, not that which is run after; it is that popularity which, sooner or later, never fails to do justice to the pursuit of noble ends by noble means."[213] And the historian of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, who was no stranger to the Love of Glory, has given expression to the satisfaction which he derived from the approbation of those whose

of rivalry, competition, and hostile struggle. It is true that God has not given to all the same excellences of mind and heart; but he naturally requires more of the strong than of the many less blessed. The little we can do will not be cast vainly into his treasury; nor need the weak and humble be filled with any idle emulation of others. Let each act earnestly, according to the measure of his

ar product of age. And it is then, among other triumphs of virtue, that Duty assumes her commanding place, while personal ambition is abased. Burke, in that marvellous passage of elegiac beauty where he mourns his only son, says, "Indeed, my Lord, I greatly deceive myself, if, in this hard season, I wo

difficult to reach; and just in proportion as duty becomes the guide and aim of life shall we learn to close the soul against the allurements of praise and the asperities of censure, while we find satisfactions and compensations such as man cannot give or take away. The worl