O.M.Now you are speaking hastily.It shows that you have not studiously examined the facts.Of all your intimates, which one is the happiest? Isn't it Burgess?
Y.M.Easily.
O.M.And which one is the unhappiest? Henry Adams?
Y.M.Without a question!
O.M.I know them well.They are extremes, abnormals; their temperaments are as opposite as the poles.Their life-histories are about alike--but look at the results! Their ages are about the same--about around fifty.Burgess had always been buoyant, hopeful, happy; Adams has always been cheerless, hopeless, despondent.As young fellows both tried country journalism--and failed.Burgess didn't seem to mind it; Adams couldn't smile, he could only mourn and groan over what had happened and torture himself with vain regrets for not having done so and so instead of so and so--THEN he would have succeeded.They tried the law--and failed.Burgess remained happy--because he couldn't help it.
Adams was wretched--because he couldn't help it.From that day to this, those two men have gone on trying things and failing:
Burgess has come out happy and cheerful every time; Adams the reverse.And we do absolutely know that these men's inborn temperaments have remained unchanged through all the vicissitudes of their material affairs.Let us see how it is with their immaterials.Both have been zealous Democrats; both have been zealous Republicans; both have been zealous Mugwumps.Burgess has always found happiness and Adams unhappiness in these several political beliefs and in their migrations out of them.Both of these men have been Presbyterians, Universalists, Methodists, Catholics--then Presbyterians again, then Methodists again.
Burgess has always found rest in these excursions, and Adams unrest.They are trying Christian Science, now, with the customary result, the inevitable result.No political or religious belief can make Burgess unhappy or the other man happy.
I assure you it is purely a matter of temperament.Beliefs are ACQUIREMENTS, temperaments are BORN; beliefs are subject to change, nothing whatever can change temperament.
Y.M.You have instanced extreme temperaments.
O.M.Yes, the half-dozen others are modifications of the extremes.But the law is the same.Where the temperament is two-thirds happy, or two-thirds unhappy, no political or religious beliefs can change the proportions.The vast majority of temperaments are pretty equally balanced; the intensities are absent, and this enables a nation to learn to accommodate itself to its political and religious circumstances and like them, be satisfied with them, at last prefer them.Nations do not THINK, they only FEEL.They get their feelings at second hand through their temperaments, not their brains.A nation can be brought--by force of circumstances, not argument--to reconcile itself to ANY KIND OF GOVERNMENT OR RELIGION THAT CAN BE DEVISED; in time it will fit itself to the required conditions; later, it will prefer them and will fiercely fight for them.As instances, you have all history: the Greeks, the Romans, the Persians, the Egyptians, the Russians, the Germans, the French, the English, the Spaniards, the Americans, the South Americans, the Japanese, the Chinese, the Hindus, the Turks--a thousand wild and tame religions, every kind of government that can be thought of, from tiger to house-cat, each nation KNOWING it has the only true religion and the only sane system of government, each despising all the others, each an ass and not suspecting it, each proud of its fancied supremacy, each perfectly sure it is the pet of God, each without undoubting confidence summoning Him to take command in time of war, each surprised when He goes over to the enemy, but by habit able to excuse it and resume compliments--in a word, the whole human race content, always content, persistently content, indestructibly content, happy, thankful, proud, NOMATTER WHAT ITS RELIGION IS, NOR WHETHER ITS MASTER BE TIGER ORHOUSE-CAT.Am I stating facts? You know I am.Is the human race cheerful? You know it is.Considering what it can stand, and be happy, you do me too much honor when you think that _I_can place before it a system of plain cold facts that can take the cheerfulness out of it.Nothing can do that.Everything has been tried.Without success.I beg you not to be troubled.
THE DEATH OF JEAN
The death of Jean Clemens occurred early in the morning of December 24, 1909.Mr.Clemens was in great stress of mind when I first saw him, but a few hours later I found him writing steadily.
"I am setting it down," he said, "everything.It is a relief to me to write it.It furnishes me an excuse for thinking." At intervals during that day and the next I looked in, and usually found him writing.Then on the evening of the 26th, when he knew that Jean had been laid to rest in Elmira, he came to my room with the manuscript in his hand.
"I have finished it," he said; "read it.I can form no opinion of it myself.If you think it worthy, some day--at the proper time--it can end my autobiography.It is the final chapter."Four months later--almost to the day--(April 21st) he was with Jean.
Albert Bigelow Paine.
Stormfield, Christmas Eve, 11 A.M., 1909.
JEAN IS DEAD!
Has any one ever tried to put upon paper all the little happenings connected with a dear one--happenings of the twenty-four hours preceding the sudden and unexpected death of that dear one? Would a book contain them? Would two books contain them?
I think not.They pour into the mind in a flood.They are little things that have been always happening every day, and were always so unimportant and easily forgettable before--but now!
Now, how different! how precious they are, now dear, how unforgettable, how pathetic, how sacred, how clothed with dignity!
