CHAP. III. A PHILANTHROPIST.

A few days after the circumstances that have been related, Oriel Porphyry, being alone, broke open the packet that had been given him by his father, and on perusal found it to contain the following communication:—

“It is time, my dear Oriel, that you should know something of your father’s history; that being made acquainted with the steps by which he has acquired his reputation, you may seek the same path to honour with a certainty that it cannot mislead; and the moment is equally opportune for you to learn the true state of your country, which you cannot know unless you can have the account from one who is neither desirous of deceiving himself nor his associates, that when you are called upon to take your place on the grand stage of the world, as you will be aware what portion of the drama has preceded your appearance, you may understand the tendency of the whole so well, as to be able to play your part with power, with truth, with a just conception of the character, to the satisfaction of yourself, and with the admiration of your audience. I have observed, with considerable anxiety, that you possess a disposition that does not conform itself readily to the spirit of the times. You are impatient of restraint—you are anxious for enterprise—you are yearning for distinction;—not that distinction which rewards the exertions of the truly great, the just, the good, the benevolent—which is the loving admiration of their fellow-creatures, and comes in the delightful shape of blessings, and good wishes, and the sight of social happiness—but the vain splendour of a false renown, such as is often acquired by adventurers, impostors, conquerors, and tyrants, and is made visible in the shrieks of wounded men, in the adulation of slaves, in tears and curses, blood and flame, in the blast of trumpets and the clang of chains. Your eyes are enamoured of the glory with which the mighty invest themselves: to excite the wonder of the fearful and the foolish, and assist in their subjection—thrones and sceptres, robes of state, gaudy ceremonies, and idle distinctions, dazzle your senses—you would wish them yours, seek for them, fight for them, die for them: having obtained them, your sole gratification would exist in exhibiting yourself surrounded by these delusive honours, or in conferring some of minor importance upon such of your followers as may make themselves most useful or agreeable: dying in seeking their possession, you would render up your everlasting soul, to mingle with the bright source from which it sprung, with the sole consolation that you will be talked of by a multitude you could not enslave.

“The only unerring way of judging of the value of a thing is by the happiness it produces. The degree of happiness that results to the acquirer of this glory, of which you are so desirous, must indeed be small, when we take into consideration the danger with which it is obtained, the fear of losing it, and the struggles to maintain its possession, which are its common accompaniments; and still less is the quantity of happiness it creates among those at whose expense it must exist—for there is no happiness in thraldom—in the debasement of human nature to an idol—in the march of conquering hordes destroying as they go—or in the bitter anguish of noble minds struggling in vain to emancipate themselves from the tyranny under which they groan. The only real happiness consists in the practice of benevolence, and the only real glory is the admiration it excites. I have enjoyed a more than ordinary share of happiness, because I have taken advantage of opportunities for benefiting my fellow-creatures that were presented to me in more than ordinary abundance, and I have acquired an unusual degree of reputation for a private individual, in consequence of making the most profitable use of these abundant opportunities for doing good.

“It was in the middle of the last reign, when the late emperor, after ascending the steps of military greatness to a throne, was pursuing an uninterrupted career of conquest throughout the vast continent of this immense portion of the globe, when I, a youth like yourself, but with far different feelings, left the mansion of my father, (who had lately been ennobled, as it is called, for his services in the wars,) to escape from a way of life it was desired I, being his eldest son, should follow—a way of slaughter and tyranny, of blood, and shame, and guilt, which was disgustingly repugnant to my disposition,—and disguised, and under a fictitious name, seeking some more honourable occupation, I was so fortunate as to enter into the service of the wealthiest merchant in the city of Columbus. I became useful to him—he praised my industry and integrity—I was admired by his daughter—she loved me for the praises to which she had been a frequent and not unwilling listener. He was generous and noble in his nature—she simple, modest, and kind. She was your mother, Oriel, and after having been enriched with her beauty and excellence, I became possessed of all the store of treasure, which had gone on accumulating as it passed from father to son through several generations of princely merchants.

“I had always done whatever trifling good the little power I had allowed me to accomplish, and the sweetest gratifications I enjoyed arose from these actions, and had always longed for the arrival of that time when my sphere of usefulness might be equal to my desires; therefore when, by the demise of my adopted father, I found myself the uncontrollable master of funds almost exhaustless, to render the benefits I wished them to produce as ample as possible, I studied every way which great knowledge and extraordinary means could create to increase them, that without diminishing my source of good I might have a liberal, a continual, and increasing fund from which to realise my benevolent intentions. With this object in view, and with the experience I had acquired by many years of close application, I brought into operation all my resources—my ships, continually increasing in number, traversed every known sea, laden with the most desirable produce—and my agents, always becoming more numerous, penetrated into every habitable region, and opened new sources of traffic and fresh accumulations of wealth. The consequence was, that I was enabled to live a life of the most active benevolence. I purchased happiness by diffusing it around me. I founded hospitals for the sick and asylums for the poor. I endeavoured to lessen the growth of crime by increasing the means of intelligence, and I attempted to strengthen the example of virtue by adding to the recreative power of its advantages. I rewarded genius, I enriched worth, I assisted industry, I fostered skill. I made disappointment forget her name, and allowed misfortune to become a stranger in the places where I was known.

“But at this period, in what state of feeling lived the emperor—he whose state you would envy, and whose pride you would covet? He was getting into the winter of his days, but the fire that burnt within him was not to be subdued by its frost. His soul was like a volcano in a region of snow. He was disturbed by the restless turmoil of his own thoughts, that made his couch of down a bed of rock, his robe of sovereignty a perpetual blister, and the acclamations of a fickle multitude a piercing discord. In vain, when he found that all his conquests had been achieved, and he consolidated them into one immense empire, comprising the two Americas, over which he ruled alone and absolute, he tried to calm the fever of his desires by building palaces and churches, erecting triumphal arches and towering pillars—creating convenient highways, majestic bridges, noble aqueducts, immense canals, and unrivalled docks:—in vain he strived to have forests grow in the place of weeds, and sought to have gardens of roses in deserts of sand—he encouraged agriculture—he promoted manufactures—he protected commerce—science was ennobled in his halls, and learning dwelt in comfort in his colleges:—in vain he established institutions, originated titles, conferred honours, and distributed wealth—the fire that slumbered in his breast was not to be thus extinguished. He was miserable for want of opportunities for action. His busy inclinations allowed him no repose. There was no peace for his soul.

“The happiness I enjoyed became known to him—became familiar to all—for with the true spirit of philanthropy, which knows no distinction of creed or country, I endeavoured to confer my benefits wherever they were most required; and the loving admiration with which I found my name regarded in every part of the globe, and the abundant pleasures I saw arise from my own exertions wherever they could be applied, created in me a degree of happiness almost impossible to be exceeded. He became aware of my extraordinary wealth, and was told of the beneficial effects it was producing. The emperor sent me word that a certain distinction waited my acceptance—with a proper humility I declined the favour. Surprised at the refusal, and desirous of tempting me into obligation, he caused it to be intimated to me that a higher honour would, if desired, be granted—this, in the same manner, and with as little consideration, I also refused. His astonishment increased, and his inclination to shackle me with the trappings of his own grandeur grew more intense. I was told that the highest honours to which a subject could aspire might at a wish be mine; and I need scarcely add that the offer met with the same result as its predecessors. No, my son! as Oriel Porphyry I had acquired almost boundless riches, and had lived in a state of happiness which left no desire ungratified—as Oriel Porphyry I had obtained an influence over the hearts of my fellow-men, compared to which the power of conquerors was an idle boast—and as Oriel Porphyry I had created for myself a renown beside which the glory of an emperor sunk into insignificance. What could be to me the baubles he sought to confer—the sounding titles—or the pompous privileges? They could not extend my usefulness a hair’s breadth—they could not add to my enjoyments the fraction of a grain.

“To say that the emperor was not offended by my repeated refusals would be to give a more charitable interpretation to his feelings than would be true; but my behaviour seemed to him something so extraordinary—something so opposed to the spirit of his experience—and something so utterly incomprehensible to his notions of human nature—that he sent for me to be satisfied by his own eyes that there existed in the world what he considered so remarkable a phenomenon. He endeavoured to persuade me into a conviction that I did wrong, in not accepting the advantages, as he was pleased to call them, I might obtain; and I replied by describing the advantages that more justly deserved the name I already possessed. I asked if he could give me any thing of real value that was not at my disposal, and enumerated every good I was enabled to bestow. He reflected, and the more he reflected, the more he seemed to wonder. I do not remember the whole of our conversation, but it was of sufficient interest to him to desire my visit to be repeated.

“I saw the emperor frequently at his continual requests, and the more I conversed with him the more he appeared gratified with my conversation. I expressed my opinions fearlessly, and my boldness he excused—I censured his government with freedom, and he listened without offence. I suggested some valuable improvements, and my ideas were immediately adopted; but our acquaintance did not end there. He was continually entreating me to occupy a place in his council, from which I endeavoured to be excused; but on reflection, seeing that it might confer upon me opportunities I could not otherwise possess, for giving a more liberal character to the government, by which means I might improve the condition of the people, I at last consented, on the understanding that it should confer on me no rank, no privileges, and no emoluments. I knew that my country had once been a republic, and under that title had for centuries enjoyed an unexampled degree of prosperity; but though I would have preferred a government of a similar character, more perfect in its influence, and more simple in its organisation, as a change in the state of things could not evidently be made, without creating a degree of confusion, strife, hatred, and unhappiness, the thought of which I could not endure, it was my aim so to work and improve the machinery of the state, that the public wants should be as completely satisfied as it was possible for them to be. It matters little under what name a nation is governed,—a monarchy, an oligarchy, and a republic are but different names for the same thing; and a president, a doge, and an emperor, are only different titles for the same office: they may all represent a state of tyranny in the country, and their chiefs may become the most despotic rulers of the people. The true value of a thing, as I have previously said, is the quantity of happiness it can be made to produce; and every system of government may, by proper administration, be made productive of the greatest degree of happiness to the governed.

“At the head of the grand council of the empire I was in due time installed; and while I there remained, was the originator of a multitude of various measures, having for their object the public welfare. My coadjutors I found to be men with whom I could but little sympathise, because they had no sympathy for their fellows. They were proud, vain, selfish, and intolerant. They imagined themselves governors instead of ministers. They liked to rule better than to advise. They bowed in abject servility to their superior, and strived to make those having less power as slavish in their behaviour to themselves.

“It is not at all extraordinary that such dispositions should regard the untitled merchant who presided at their deliberations, always exercised his own judgment in preference to theirs, paid no deference to their fancied superiority, and appeared on terms of equality even with their emperor, as one unqualified for government, and solely kept in office by the emperor’s foolish partiality; and I was neither surprised or offended, when I found them opposing the measures I brought forward; treating my arguments with inattention, and my person with disrespect. Finding that, under such circumstances, my services could be of no value to the community, I was obliged to request the emperor to release me from the responsibilities of my situation. He desired to know the reasons for my resignation. I told him. I was entreated to remain; an intimation was conveyed to the members of the council from him they acknowledged as their master, and, when I returned to my duties, I found them rivalling each other in obsequiousness to my will. That, notwithstanding the readiness with which they embraced my views, they hated me in their hearts, I regret to say, was too evident. But they were little to be blamed. Had they known that, even in the idle rank which they prized so highly, I was the equal of the noblest, and the superior of the rest, they would have regarded me with more generous feelings; but none knew when my father died, and my younger brother took possession of the titles and estates of the family; that the rightful heir, long lamented as dead, was living, in the person of an object of secret disdain to his coadjutors; and that he was Oriel Porphyry, the merchant.

“It may easily be imagined by you, from what I have related, that the emperor had sympathies in his nature rarely met with in conquerors; but by me they were first awakened. On one of our earliest interviews, when the spirit that kept his desires in a ferment was still strong upon him, he said,—

“‘I want action—I want action. I cannot live except in the stir of battle, and the pursuit of conquest. But my triumphs are completed—I have nothing left to conquer.’

“Sire,” said I, “the most valuable—the most difficult conquest remains unachieved.”

“‘What have I to conquer?’ he asked, eagerly.

“Yourself,” I replied. I will do him the justice to say that he did not lose sight of the suggestion. His mind became liberalised—his heart expanded to the influence of sincere philanthropy—for the first time he understood the nature of true happiness; and although from the effects of a disease of long standing his reign, from this time, was brief, he lived to effect some valuable reformations in the laws, and by their results in ameliorating the condition of the people, provided, as far as he had the power, a remedy for the mischiefs he had created.

“His successor was a weak, proud, vain young man, possessing a disposition for tyranny—usually found in company with incapacity holding power; and it is almost unnecessary to state that such a character found plenty of bad advisers, and that I was speedily obliged by their machinations to retire from all participation in the government. Although my time had always been actively employed, I had regarded the progress of your education with so much interest, that I never failed to create opportunities for superintending your studies. I witnessed the developement of your mind with increasing pleasure, and found a continual gratification in the approaches you were making to the perfect dignity of manhood. About this time we went to reside in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia’s noble mansion, because the scenery was endeared to me by all the most pleasant of my early recollections, and I encouraged your intimacy with our proud neighbours, in consequence of an inclination I had long retained, which was created in me by many powerful reasons with which you cannot now be made acquainted, for a union between our families. Philadelphia seemed for a considerable time with great cordiality to enter into my views; but as the government of which he was a supporter were pursuing measures highly inimical to the liberties of the people, and as he found I would not be brought into any thing like an approval of such a policy, he began to look upon me with less friendship—he thought it would hurt his loyalty to retain feelings of sociality for one who opposed the measures of his sovereign, and imagined it beneath the dignity of his nobility to encourage an alliance with an untitled merchant. But he little knew that a word would make me his equal in his own ideas of greatness; which, when uttered, would at the same time reduce him to a state of insignificance to which, in comparison, my plebeian condition would have appeared to him princely.

“From a friendly neighbour, Philadelphia became an implacable enemy. I regretted, for the reasons to which I have alluded, that all idea of the proposed union should be thus suddenly terminated; but I had noticed in Eureka so powerful a romantic impulse in her nature, and observed that its effect upon you was so productive of ambitious desires, that I did not lament your separation, but in a very slight degree. The disappointment under which I observed you suffer so acutely, and the restless eagerness for a life of enterprise, I noticed becoming in you daily less supportable, induced me to plan the voyage upon which you are now proceeding. Engage yourself in careful observation of every thing you meet worthy of notice—seek every opportunity for diffusing happiness among those near you, by whom it may be required; and all motive for exertion, that does not tend towards benevolence, all regret for the past, and all desires for the future, will be forgotten in the enjoyment of your own happiness.”

“It cannot be,” exclaimed Oriel Porphyry, as he concluded the preceding sentence. “I honour my father’s noble nature, and would do all in my power to fulfil his benevolent intentions, but I cannot give up Eureka. My ambition I will strive to conquer; but love is not so easily subdued. What care I for the disdain of the proud Philadelphia? I see signs in the times that are likely to bring about important changes, if this state of things continues. The people are dissatisfied with their rulers, and the emperor is endeavouring to make himself absolute. Every day will increase the public discontent, and when the crisis arrives, there will be nothing required but a leader, and down the whole rotten fabric of despotism must tumble. I will wait the time; and then, my father! we will see who is greatest in the land—the generous merchant or the proud noble.”