Note 8 — Chapter XI
Reading edition
Alas! then where should happiness be sought? In Nature's self.—Cast but thine eyes around, In every place, in every age, 'tis found; No where entire, but always in degree, And fleeting still, except, Oh God! with thee, (Thou its great Author.) Like thy fire, its heat In every other element we meet; Deep in the bosom of the harden'd stone, As in the clouds its vital power we own; In ocean's caves, in coral beds it glows, And lives beneath the glacier's endless snows.
As the reader may find it not uninteresting to compare the ideas of such great writers as Pope and Voltaire on the same subject, the opening verses of the fourth epistle of the Essay on Man are here subjoined, though perhaps an apology is due for transcribing lines impressed on every English memory.
Oh Happiness! our being's end and aim! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! whate'er thy name: That something still, which prompts th' eternal sigh For which we bear to live, or dare to die; Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies, O'erlook'd, seen double by the fool and wise. Plant of celestial seed! if dropp'd below, Say, in what mortal soil thou deign'st to grow; Fair op'ning to some court's propitious shine, Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine? Twin'd with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield, Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field? Where grows? where grows it not? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not the soil: Fix'd to no spot is happiness sincere, 'Tis no where to be found, or ev'ry where; 'Tis never to be bought, but always free, And, fled from monarchs, St. John! dwells with thee.