CHAP. X. ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE DANGER OF GOOD INTENTIONS.

“I tell you what it is, Boggle,” said Climberkin to his friend, as they were pacing the quarter-deck together, “You’re al’ays getting yourself into scrapes. You’ve got a notion as you can do things in the most tip top manner, and you make a reg’lar mommock of every thin’ you sets about.”

“All I knows o’ the matter is, that I likes to ha’ ’ticular notions o’ things in general, as every man as is a man, and thinks like a man, should,” replied the other. “But I arn’t such a stoop as to allow every body to come his handy dandy sugarcandy over me. I knows a marlin spike from a gun carriage.”

“But there was no ’casion for you to ’noy the cap’ain by comin’ the high and mighty over his nevey,” observed Climberkin.

“Well, I did it for the best,” responded his companion. “You see the young chap arn’t quite up to his dooty; so I thought, as I was his superior officer, it was the most properest thing in natur for me to tell him what’s what. But I recomembered as young people has feelings, and that it would be best to make my ’munication as pleasant as possible; so the next time I comed alongside Mr. Midshipman Loop, I says, quite delicately, says I, you’re a lubberly young son of a sea cow, as arn’t fit to do nuffin but to count your fingers, or cut your toe-nails. You’re al’ays a skylarking arter some precious mischief or another. No matter whether you’re aloft among the reefers, or down below, right-fol-de-dolin’ at the mess, you’re up to no sort o’ good whatsomdever. I arn’t no patience wi’ sich varmint; and if you don’t do your dooty in a less ’jectionable sort o’ fashion, I’m pretty considerably spiflicated if I don’t make sich a report o’ your wagabondisings as shall make you catch more toko than you’ll be able to digest in a month. Well, instead of the fellow being grateful for the handsome way in which I’d tried not to hurt none o’ his feelins, he looks at me w’ as much water in his eyes as ’ould do to wash his face in; and in a short time arterwards up comes the cap’ain, and gives me sich a sittin’ down as didn’t leave me a leg to stand on.”

“You’d been too hard upon the young un,” observed Climberkin: “there was no necessity for speaking so sharp.”

“It’s always the way I gets served out whenever I attempts to do a good action,” replied Boggle. “Nobody has better intentions nor I have; but, somehow or another, whenever I’ve ’tempted to do a fellow a good turn, the end on it is the treatment I meets wi’ gives me sich a turn as puts me into a perfect ’stonishment.”

“You don’t go the right way to work, Boggle—that’s it, depend on’t,” replied his companion.

“The right way!” exclaimed Boggle. “Why, I’ve been this way, and that way, and t’other way—backards and forards—right and left—upside down and round the corners; and I should like to know what other way there is in this here univarsal world? No; the thing is this: there’s a plank started some where. Natur don’t go right wi’ me. I’ve had a deal o’ ’sperience in my time, and every ’dividual thing has been sarved up to me wi’ the same sauce.”

“I should like to hear the long and the short o’ your goin’s on,” said Climberkin.

“Why, as to that, I’ve a notion the whole circumbendibus o’ my history is as good as a sermon,” replied the other.

“Well, let’s hear it then, Boggle, if you’ve no objection,” added his companion.

“Then here goes, if you’ll sit down on this gun; for, though I’ve heard o’ a standin’ joke, I should think a standin’ story would be rather a tiresome sort o’ thing. It’s no matter when or where I was launched,” continued Boggle; “and about my parentage, its only necessary to say, I had a father and a mother, like other folks. Well, in due time I was bound a ’prentice to a ship’s carpenter. I very early entertained a desire to set people to rights as was goin’ wrong. I thought there was nuffin so pleasant as tryin’ to do good, and I took hold of every ’portunity to benefit my fellow-creturs. Master was a punch-your-head sort o’ character, wi’ one eye and a leg-o’-mutton fist; and missus was a spirited little ooman, mighty famous in her way; but if you did get in her way, she pretty soon made you get out of it. Well, when master wasn’t a punchin’ my head, missus was a boxin’ my ears; and when missus wasn’t a boxin’ my ears, master was a punchin’ my head; and when they were tired o’ sarvin’ me out, they turned to and sarved each other out. I led a lovely life, as you may suppose.”

“A dog would ha’ been better off, I should think,” observed Climberkin.

“I had a heart overflowin’ wi’ the buttermilk o’ human kindness,” continued the lieutenant; “and I didn’t like sich a state o’ things, no how. I entertained a notion that the only way to change this here strife was to endeavour to create feelin’s o’ love betwixt the parties; but how to get ’em to like each other, instead of to lick each other, was the difficulty. ‘If I can make ’em believe each other’s affection, I shall make a reg’lar Cupid and physic business of it,’ thought I. But how could I make ’em believe? Where was the proof? I had always heard as jealousy was a proof o’ love; so I determined to make ’em as jealous as was possible. Well, I took a ’casion to hint to master as missus was unkimmonly amiable to Brisket, the butcher over the way; and, although Brisket, the butcher over the way, warn’t no more a object o’ love nor a rhinoceros, I could see master’s one eye flashin’ about like a bundle o’ crackers in a kitchen fire; and he told me to watch their canouvres and ’municate to him any thing as was likely to interfere wi’ his conjugalities; and, as a more nor ordinary mark o’ his ’preciation o’ my regard for his matrimonial blessedness, he took me a punch o’ the head twice as hard as ever he’d given me afore.”

“You had the luck of it!” remarked his companion.

“Then I went to missus, and, in the most delicatest manner as could be, I gave her to suppose that there was a monstrous deal o’ improperiety going forard betwixt master and Mrs. Brisket, the butcher’s wife over the way; and, although Mrs. Brisket, the butcher’s wife over the way, was about as good looking as a toad-fish, missus seemed quite done brown o’ both sides; and, tellin’ me to gi’ her due notice o’ their clandasterous proceedin’s, she fetched me a box o’ the ear, as made the inside o’ my head seem turned into curds and whey. Well, I continued this sort o’ game till, if jealousy be a proof o’ love, they ought to ha’ been convinced beyond a doubt, and, as a matter o’ course, should have been as lovin’ as turtle-doves: but, ’straordinary to relate, he punched her head, and she boxed his ears, more earnestly than ever, all the time throwing out ’sinuations that stirred each other up into the most tarnationest fury. One unfortunit day, when I was workin’ away in the shop, and they were workin’ away in the same place, they suddenly stopped their hands to make use o’ their tongues.

“‘I knows your goin’s on over the way, you wretch,’ squeaked missus.

“‘And I knows your goin’s on over the way, you trollope,’ bawled master.

“‘I’ll kill that woman,’ cried one.

“‘And I’ll murder Brisket!’ said the other.

“‘It’s false, you villain! I defy you to prove your words. But you know my suspicions are well founded,’ exclaimed the wife.

“‘It’s false, you hussy! and you know it,’ shouted the husband.

“‘I had the intelligence from the best authority, sir.’

“‘I had mine from a source that dared not deceive me, madam.’

“‘Who told you?’ was simultaneously asked by both; and ‘Boggle!’ was the reply in almost the same breath. Immediately they turned upon me. I could see master’s eye lookin’ at me as if he was about to walk down my throat; and missus—but it’s only necessary to say that I made a sudden bolt between master’s legs, managed to tumble him over her; and while they were sprawlin’ together, I was crossin’ all manner o’ streets, at a pace that sent every body out o’ my way. That was the end o’ my ’prenticeship; and thus my good intentions were so ’bominably frusterated.”

“And what did you do then?” inquired Climberkin.

“I went to live wi’ an uncle,” replied Boggle. “He kept a knife-and-forkery. Meat of all kinds, ready cooked, was waiting for the hungry at any hour, with vegetables in season and out o’ season; soups of all sorts, and some of very strange sorts; with mustard, bread, pepper, and salt. I continued at this business a considerable time, and liked it much better nor the ship carpenterin’; and I gained a good many ’ticular notions o’ things in general: indeed, I may say, without any sinnivation against the sort o’ meat we sold, as how I became a slap bang judge o’ horse-flesh. I still continued ’deavourin’ to set things right as was goin’ t’other way; but the same sort o’ fun al’ays happened as when I ’tempted to make jealousy become a proof o’ love: I got no more gratitude nor would serve a flea to lie down upon. Well, it so happened as our customers was frequently in the habit o’ complainin’ o’ dyspepsia. Every body had dyspepsia: long or short, little or big, fat or lean, every mortal cretur talked o’ nothin’ else but his dyspepsia. Some said it was all acause o’ their diet, and they detarmined to make a reg’lar change in their eatables; so havin’ been used to nothin’ else but mutton and beef, they directly began to eat nothin’ else but beef and mutton. And some said it was one thing, and some said it was another; and some said it was just exactly neither. Now, I knowed about as much o’ dyspepsia as I did o’ the top o’ the moon; but I seed as there was a screw loose somewhere, and I was nat’rally anxious to put it in proper order. So I got hold of a book as gived explanations in the most popular incomprehensible manner about diet and regimen, and what you should eat and what you shouldn’t eat; and how much you might put in your bread-room, and how much you might let alone; and there I met with the whole complete circumbendibus about dyspepsia.”

“And what was it?” inquired his companion.

“Why, I can’t exactly say what it was,” replied Boggle, “acause the book didn’t exactly tell me; but I found out as every fellow as had it should be reg’lar as clock-work in his eatables, and should have no more nor a sartain quantity at no time. So I began ’deavourin’ to cure the dyspepsia. I hadn’t the power to make ’em reg’late their jaw tackle accordin’ to the book; but I took precious good care as every one should have a sartain quantity. Whether a fellow could eat a horse, or hadn’t a appetite no more nor a blue bottle, I sarved ’em all wi’ a sartain quantity. Acause why? It was good for their dyspepsia. But they kicked up such a bobbery! The big eaters got into a devourin’ rage, and they left the shop, swearing I was a tryin’ to pick their pockets. Ungrateful wretches! I was only a tryin’ to cure their dyspepsia. And the little eaters were so very few in comparison, that, if they had remained satisfied wi’ my treatment, their custom would have been of no sort o’ significance; but, acause I gived them more nor their money’s worth, they quitted the place, saying it was too cheap to be good, and that I was only a wantin’ to poisen ’em. Ignorant creturs! I was only a wantin’ to cure their dyspepsia! Well, my uncle was in a reg’lar take in at the loss o’ his business: it put him into as complete a botheration as ever you seed. He was a man o’ very few words, but was unkimmon handy upon occasions; and, seein’ or fancyin’ summut wasn’t correct, he watched my goin’s on; and one day he cotched me a sarving out a sartain quantity to a fellow who didn’t want quite so much. So he axed me what I was arter; and I up and I told him all about the dyspepsia; and all about my attemptin’ to cure it; and all about my sarvin’ out a sartain quantity to every body as comed to the shop. Well, afore I’d got to the end o’ my story, my uncle, in the most unnat’ral way as could be, took up a stick as was handy, and he sarved me out wi’ a sartain quantity, till I was obligated to make all sail out o’ the shop.”

“Accordin’ to my notions, it wasn’t a bit more nor you deserved,” remarked the unsympathising Climberkin.

“What, not for trying to cure the dyspepsia!” loudly exclaimed the other.

“Not for trying to cure nothin’,” was the reply. “But what became o’ you arter that?”

“Why, my friends thought my notions o’ things in general not likely to come to no good ashore, so they took it into their heads to send me afloat,” responded his companion. “My first voyage lasted long enough to give me a tolerable smartish insight into the nautical; but I was continually wantin’ to set things right, and my good intentions were as continually a sarving me out wi’ a sartain quantity. Now, this might ha’ made any fellow but me tired o’ tryin’ to benefit his fellow-creturs: but I wasn’t a chap o’ that sort; and I still went on, as sarcumstances required, ’tempting to do lots o’ good, and gettin’ in return nothin’ but lots o’ bad. Well, when I came ashore in my native place, I was rather a hold-your-head-up sort o’ young chap; and, havin’ some money to spend, I swaggered about the streets most consumedly, and fancied as every gal I cotched sight on was thinkin’ o’ nothin’ in natur’ but lookin’ arter me. So I thought as a matter o’ course I’d look arter them. I just did. As I had ’ticular notions o’ things in general, as every man as is a man, and thinks like a man, should have, I thought it would be cruel to the rest o’ the she creturs if I confined my attentions to one: consequently, I went a courtin’ away like a steam-engine to all as I could meet. I had ’em o’ all sorts and sizes, colours and complexions—scraggy or squab—longs or shorts—it made not a bit o’ difference—as long as they were inclined to be fond o’ me, I was inclined to be fond o’ them. I had the best intentions—I thought o’ nothin’ but makin’ ’em happy; and the more happiness as I could make, the more good I thought I was a doing. Well, somehow or other, things began to look queer, and every one on ’em was a wantin’ me to marry ’em. Now, there was a law again a fellow marryin’ more nor one wife; and I knew as if I married one it would be unkimmonly unjust to the rest. This my ’ticular notion o’ things in general wouldn’t allow. I still entertained the best intentions; so thinkin’ as if they knowed the rights o’ the case they would see the impossibility o’ my agreein’ to their wishes, I, unbeknown to the others, invited every one to meet me under a large tree, a little way out o’ the town, in the branches o’ which I hid myself very snug, to diskiver the upshot. First one came—then came another—and number one looked at number two in all sorts o’ ways. Then came a third, and the two looked at number three in all sorts o’ ways. Then came a fourth, a fifth, a sixth—ay, I may as well acknowledge at once as how they came to a matter o’ twenty; and they all looked at one another in all sorts o’ ways. At last, one on ’em, as I knowed to be a bit o’ a spit-fire, spoke up.

“‘Ladies,’ says she, ‘may I ask what brought you all here?’

“‘I came to meet Boggle,’ said one.

“‘I came to meet Boggle,’ said another.

“‘I came to meet Boggle,’ said all.

“‘You came to meet Boggle, you hussy!’ exclaimed every one in the whole lot; and, in less than a jiffy, caps flew about, dresses were torn, and there was the most considerable shindy that ever was known in this here univarsal world. Now, I had the best intentions. I only thought o’ creatin’ as much happiness as I could. I never had no suspicion as my notions o’ things in general could ha’ led to such a revolution. And when I seed ’em all one a top o’ t’ other, a pummelling, a scratching, and screeching like so many wild cats, I was taken quite comical; and, missing my hold upon the bough, I tumbled right down into the very midst on ’em. Directly as they caught eyes o’ me they left off fighting. ‘I shall settle the matter comfortably at last,’ thought I. Miserable Boggle that I was! how I did deceive myself! In the next moment they all flew at me like a lot o’ tigers, and they scratched me up, and they scratched me down, and they scratched me sideways—they pulled every hair out o’ my head, and they tore my clothes into bits not big enough to cover a pincushion; and they didn’t leave my unfortunate body till they thought they had killed me out and out.”

“I should think that ought to have sickened you o’ goin’ a courtin’,” remarked Climberkin, unable to restrain his mirth.

“Sickened!” exclaimed the other; “the very sight o’ a she cretur makes me as good as done for. Why, I was obliged to be laid up in lavender for a month. I became as tender as a chicken, and every bone I possessed seemed to have been smashed into porridge. And this was all in return for my ’deavourin’ to make ’em happy! If this arn’t a most ungrateful world I’m a nigger!”

“And what followed this adventure?” inquired his companion.

“Oh, don’t ask me!” replied Boggle, very gravely: “I haven’t the heart to go on. But it was all the same. Still from time to time I thought o’ setting things to rights; and on every ’portunity I was rewarded for my good intentions wi’ exactly a similar sort o’ treatment.”

“Here comes the governor!” said the other, as he noticed Oriel and his party approaching; and the two young men hastily left their seats on the gun-carriage to attend to their duty in the ship.

“What coast is this, captain,” asked the young merchant, pointing to the shore that lay at the distance of a few miles.

“That is the coast of Arabia,” replied Hearty.

“A part of the world rendered particularly interesting to the philosopher by the many important incidents which, from the early history of the world, have there occurred,” added the professor. “Here the chariots of Pharaoh, pursuing the fugitive Jews, were ingulfed in the waters of the Red Sea; and yonder is the land where, after their escape, the children of Israel wandered during their weary pilgrimage.”

“Yes, the religion of Moses may be said to have had its origin here; and here, also, the religion of Mahomet was created, don’t you see,” remarked the doctor. “This is the land of Mecca and Medina: this is the land which, during the darkness of the middle ages, evinced the first dawn of civilisation that gave light to the world—the land of Arabian literature—of Arabian chivalry—of Arabian science and art. I cannot say that I honour the character of their prophet; and I detest the way in which his religion was promulgated as I detest every religion or every form of faith that may be called a religion, which has had its foundation upon bloodshed, rapine, and persecution. But, looking to the effects produced by the diffusion of the absurdities of the Koran wherever the arms of the Mahometans could penetrate, I must say that it has created more good than many religions which have since obtained more consideration.”

“What! shall the Barbarians who destroyed the Alexandrian library be held up to admiration?” exclaimed Fortyfolios, indignantly. “Shall they who desolated wherever they went, among those who would not acknowledge their pretended prophet, be considered benefactors to their species? I cannot think you are in earnest, Doctor Tourniquet.”

“But I am in earnest, don’t you see,” replied the doctor. “I would take and compare the state of Mahometanism in Arabia, with the state of Christianity at the same time in any part of the world—suppose we say from the commencement of the seventh century, during the rule of the Abbaside caliphs, till as late as the reign of the Ommeyide caliphs in Spain?”

“But we must look to the opposite shore for the land from which all intelligence proceeded,” observed the professor. “Egypt was the cradle of the arts and sciences; and her advances in knowledge preceded those of Arabia by many centuries.”

“And, doubtless, the advances made in India and China preceded those of Egypt by about the same time, don’t you see,” added the doctor. “If we would seek the origin of philosophy, we must, of course, find it among the first people; and there is every reason to suppose that the earliest inhabitants of this globe were located in India.”

“That is doubtful,” replied Fortyfolios. “But the Egyptians are at least entitled to the credit of having, at an early period, carried the mechanical arts to purposes the magnitude of which have never been exceeded; and the degree of excellence they attained in philosophy and learning is sufficient to make us regard them with a profound veneration.”

“We can only judge of the tree by the fruit, don’t you see,” responded Tourniquet. “All I know is, that the Egyptians distinguished themselves by erecting the most magnificent fooleries that had ever been conceived. Of what use were their pyramids—their colossal statues and stupendous monuments—their gigantic idols—their vast temples, and elaborate sculptures? Superior knowledge did exist certainly, for they were the teachers of the Jews and of the Greeks; and, although the latter surpassed their instructors, they have still a claim upon our admiration. But the priests were the depositors of this knowledge, and they wrapped it up in mystery so cleverly, that it was of no use to the people, among whom it ought to have been distributed, and was of just the same advantage to posterity when both priests and people were crumbling into dust.”

“Are we not approaching the grand water communication that carries the Red Sea into the Mediterranean?” inquired Oriel Porphyry.

“Ah! there’s some sense in that!” exclaimed the doctor. “It beats the wonders of Thebes to nothing; and yet there could not have been more labour employed upon it than must have been used to erect that vast city.”

“Under what circumstances did it originate?” asked the young merchant.

“After the Russians had made themselves masters of Constantinople,” said Fortyfolios, “the Turkish empire gradually dwindled into insignificance; but the territory of their conquerors had become so immense, that it was impossible, even at the expense of a military power scarcely ever equalled, to keep it together. Symptoms of dissolution began to show themselves. The native Russians, who had gradually risen from a state of abject servitude to one in which a strong love of liberty became its greatest characteristic, grew restless and dissatisfied with their government, and were continually endeavouring to force it to become more liberal. The frequent disturbances which arose in consequence kept the country very unsettled; and there was a powerful party in the state, that, being opposed to the policy of those in authority, aided in creating the public disaffection. At this time, when the government was fully employed by its own internal disorganisation, several of the conquered provinces threw off their allegiance. Of these, the most successful were Poland and Greece. There arose amongst the Greeks a man of extraordinary valour, wisdom, and soldiership, who, from the petty leader of an insurrection, had become the chief of the national armies; and, having succeeded in driving the Russians from his country, was unanimously elected its king. But the independence of Greece did not satisfy the ambition of this conqueror. He knew that the military ardour of his countrymen required to be constantly exercised; and, leaving his kingdom to the wisdom of his counsellors, he led a mighty armament into the enemy’s possessions in Turkey. Battle after battle was here fought with the same result. The heroic Greeks drove all before them; besieged and took Constantinople, in which they planted a colony; conquered their way through Asia Minor, and, entering the subjected province of Persia, excited the inhabitants to revolt: nor did they desist from their triumphant career till they had become masters of the walls of Petersburgh. At the same time the Poles, having taken up arms, they not only succeeded in relieving their country from the iron bondage in which it had so long been enslaved, but, in concert with the Greeks, invaded the lands of their conquerors, and in many a sanguinary battle revenged the wrongs they had endured.”

“Did the Greek conqueror stop when he had subdued the Russians?” inquired Oriel Porphyry, who seemed to listen with intense interest.

“No conqueror will halt in his career while he imagines there is any thing to subdue,” replied Fortyfolios. “The devotion with which the Greeks regarded their chief gave him absolute power over the lives and liberties of his subjects, and they wanted no inducement to follow him in the pursuit of glory. Wherever he led they crowded to his standard. He had but to declare his wish and armies were at his command. At this period Egypt was a fertile and flourishing kingdom. The English and French had vainly endeavoured to subdue it. They had made conquests and formed settlements: but when these two great empires decayed, the conquests were given up, and the settlements abandoned. Since then, under its own rulers, the people had advanced in prosperity, and had become powerful among the surrounding nations. This country the Greeks invaded. They met with desperate resistance; but after a frightful destruction of human life, and making the prosperous kingdom a wilderness, they succeeded in bringing the Egyptians into subjection, and planted a colony near the mouths of the Nile. This new colony throve rapidly; as after the death of the conqueror a long interval of peace ensued, and the population increasing rapidly, thousands emigrated to the shores of Egypt and of Turkey. In little more than a century the colonies threw off the supremacy of the mother-country, and although many attempts were made to force them to acknowledge their dependency, they did not succeed, and now they have become free states, scarcely inferior in importance to the great empires of Columbia and Australia; while of the great European nations that flourished a thousand years ago, Spain, Italy, and Portugal, are in a semi-barbarous condition; France, after having tried a hundred different forms of government, is split into a dozen little republics, each trying to destroy the other, and all acknowledging the supremacy of the German empire, the most powerful of the European states, having a territory stretching from the Rhine to the Vistula and from the English channel to the Adriatic sea. The state of England you will be better able to comprehend during the visit you are about to make to its shores than any description I can give you: but I must return to the Greek colony in Egypt. Its population increased rapidly, and the intelligence of the people seemed to increase with their numbers. They built many new cities, but by far the largest and most magnificent of them is the city of Athenia, which was erected on the borders of the lake Menzaleb. The colonists having turned their attention to commerce, for many years had considered the advantages that would accrue to their city if they could open a communication with the Mediterranean on one side, and with the Gulf of Suez on the other. This idea, if it were practicable, they saw would give them facilities of traffic which no country could surpass; and all their thoughts were anxiously turned towards the realisation of this splendid scheme. But the project was so gigantic that the most skilful engineers pronounced it impracticable. At last, one more bold than the rest published a plan by which he said it might be accomplished, with an enormous capital, a considerable interval of time, and the application of immense labour. The plan was considered, and, after much discussion, approved of. Funds were collected, a multitude of labourers were employed, and the work commenced by cutting a broad channel through the Isthmus of Suez, and from the Lake to the Mediterranean. In twenty years from its commencement the waters mingled together, and in fifty years Athenia was one of the busiest sea-ports, and one of the most magnificent cities in the world.”

“And its inhabitants are the wisest and the happiest people on the globe, don’t you see,” added the doctor. “They allow no superstitious follies to cramp the energies of their minds. They act and think as become men and not slaves. Their laws are simple, few, and admirably adapted to their wants. Their sociality is perfect, their morality unrivalled, their intelligence exceeds that of any other people beneath the sun. As for their form of faith, nothing can equal its philosophy, for they maintain that philanthropy is the only religion, and that the true worship of God is doing good to man.”

“Those are the principles my father entertains,” observed the young merchant.

“They may truly be called a nation of philanthropists,” continued the surgeon. “There is philanthropy in their laws—there is philanthropy in their government—there is philanthropy in their dealings one with another. From the cradle to the grave the object of all is to teach good or to practise it; and such things as hate, deceit, envy, avarice, and all the black catalogue of vices that stain other nations are to them unknown.”

“They are a people worthy of being studied,” said Oriel.

“Studied! they ought to be got by heart, by every nation on the face of the globe, don’t you see,” replied Dr. Tourniquet. “There is nothing in nature so refreshing to the sight. It makes one in love with humanity. It dissolves all the freezing selfishness that the prejudices of education have created upon our feelings, and allows us to enjoy the sunshine and the gladness of a free and unalterable sympathy for all our race. It is under such circumstances, and under such only, that man becomes what he was created to be—a creature eminently happy, enjoying moderately all his inclinations, pleased with the pleasures of others, and liberally sharing his own: knowing neither fear, nor crime, nor want, nor folly; suffering from few diseases, and those only the most ordinary afflictions of existence; entertaining no idea of emulation but that of endeavouring to exceed one another in doing good; having no interest in any property apart from the interest of the community; possessing no attachment to any object or place which is not shared by those around him—and while looking neither to the past nor to the future with either hope or fear, endeavouring to make the present as beneficial to himself and others, as with a kind, a just, and a reasonable way of life the present can be made. And this is what I call a perfect state of society, don’t you see.”