The Pleasures of Life by Sir John Lubbock

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Hard writing, it has been said, makes easy reading; Plato is said to have
rewritten the first page of the _Republic_ thirteen times; and Carlo
Maratti, we are told, sketched the head of Antinoues three hundred times
before he wrought it to his satisfaction.

It is better to wear out than to rust out, and there is "a dust which
settles on the heart, as well as that which rests upon the ledge." [2]

But though labor is good for man, it may be, and unfortunately often is,
carried to excess. Many are wearily asking themselves

"Ah why
Should life all labor be?" [3]

There is a time for all things, says Solomon, a time to work and a time to
play: we shall work all the better for reasonable change, and one reward
of work is to secure leisure.

It is a good saying that where there's a will there's a way; but while it
is all very well to wish, wishes must not take the place of work.

In whatever sphere his duty lies every man must rely mainly on himself.
Others can help us, but we must make ourselves. No one else can see for
us. To profit by our advantages we must learn to use for ourselves

"The dark lantern of the spirit
Which none can see by, but he who bears it."

It is hardly an exaggeration to say that honest work is never thrown away.
If we do not find the imaginary treasure, at any rate we enrich the
vineyard.

"Work," says Nature to man, "in every hour, paid or unpaid; see only that
thou work, and thou canst not escape the reward: whether thy work be fine
or coarse, planting corn or writing epics, so only it be honest work, done
to thine own approbation, it shall earn a reward to the senses as well as
to the thought: no matter how often defeated, you are born to victory. The
reward of a thing well done is to have done it." [4]

Nor can any work, however persevering, or any success, however great,
exhaust the prizes of life.

The most studious, the most successful, must recognize that there yet
remain

"So much to do that is not e'en begun,
So much to hope for that we cannot see,
So much to win, so many things to be." [5]

At the present time, though there may be some special drawbacks, still we
come to our work with many advantages which were not enjoyed in olden
times. We live in much greater security ourselves, and are less liable to
have the fruits of our labor torn violently from us.

In olden times the difficulties of study were far greater than they are
now. Books were expensive and cumbersome, in many cases moreover chained
to the desks on which they were kept. The greatest scholars have often
been very poor. Erasmus used to read by moonlight because he could not
afford a candle, and "begged a penny, not for the love of charity, but for
the love of learning." [6]

Want of time is no excuse for idleness. "Our life," says Jeremy Taylor,
"is too short to serve the ambition of a haughty prince or a usurping
rebel; too little time to purchase great wealth, to satisfy the pride of a
vainglorious fool, to trample upon all the enemies of our just or unjust
interest: but for the obtaining virtue, for the purchase of sobriety and
modesty, for the actions of religion, God gives us time sufficient, if we
make the outgoings of the morning and evening, that is our infancy and old
age, to be taken into the computations of a man."

Work is so much a necessity of existence, that it is less a question
whether, than how, we shall work. An old proverb tells us that the Devil
finds work for those who do not make it for themselves.

If we Englishmen have succeeded as a race, it has been due in no small
measure to the fact that we have worked hard. Not only so, but we have
induced the forces of Nature to work for us. "Steam," says Emerson, "is
almost an Englishman."

The power of work has especially characterized our greatest men. Cecil
said of Sir W. Raleigh that he "could toil terribly."

We are most of us proud of belonging to the greatest Empire the world has
ever seen. It may be said of us with especial truth in Wordsworth's words
that

"The world is too much with us; late and soon
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers."

Yes, but what world? The world will be with us sure enough, and whether we
please or not. But what sort of world it will be for us will depend
greatly on ourselves.

We are told to pray not to be taken out of the world, but to be kept from
the evil.

There are various ways of working. Quickness may be good, but haste is
bad.

"Wie das Gestirn
Ohne Hast
Ohne Rast
Drehe sich Jeder
Um die eigne Last." [7]

"Like a star, without haste, without rest, let every one fulfil his own
hest."

Newton is reported to have described as his mode of working that "I keep
the subject constantly before me, and wait till the first dawnings open
slowly by little and little into a full and clear light."

"The secret of genius," says Emerson, "is to suffer no fiction to exist
for us; to realize all that we know; in the high refinement of modern
life, in Arts, in Sciences, in books, in men, to exact good faith,
reality, and a purpose; and first, last, midst, and without end, to honor
every truth by use."

Lastly, work secures the rich reward of rest, we must rest to be able to
work well, and work to be able to enjoy rest.

"We must no doubt beware that our rest become not the rest of stones,
which so long as they are torrent-tossed and thunder-stricken maintain
their majesty; but when the stream is silent, and the storm past, suffer
the grass to cover them, and the lichen to feed on them, and are ploughed
down into the dust.... The rest which is glorious is of the chamois
couched breathless in its granite bed, not of the stalled ox over his
fodder." [8]

When we have done our best we may wait the result without anxiety.

"What hinders a man, who has clearly comprehended these things, from
living with a light heart and bearing easily the reins; quietly expecting
everything which can happen, and enduring that which has already happened?
Would you have me to bear poverty? Come and you will know what poverty is
when it has found one who can act well the part of a poor man. Would you
have me to possess power? Let me have the power, and also the trouble of
it. Well, banishment? Wherever I shall go, there it will be well with
me." [9]

The Buddhists believe in many forms of future punishment; but the highest
reward of virtue is Nirvana--the final and eternal rest.

Very touching is the appeal of Ashmanezer to be left in peace, which was
engraved on his Sarcophagus at Sidon,--now in Paris.

"In the month of Bul, the fourteenth year of my reign, I, King Ashmanezer,
King of the Sidonians, son of King Tabuith, King of the Sidonians, spake,
saying: 'I have been stolen away before my time--a son of the flood of
days. The whilom great is dumb; the son of gods is dead. And I rest in
this grave, even in this tomb, in the place which I have built. My
adjuration to all the Ruling Powers and all men: Let no one open this
resting-place, nor search for treasure, for there is no treasure with us;
and let him not bear away the couch of my rest, and not trouble us in this
resting-place by disturbing the couch of my slumbers.... For all men who
should open the tomb of my rest, or any man who should carry away the
couch of my rest, or any one who trouble me on this couch: unto them there
shall be no rest with the departed: they shall not be buried in a grave,
and there shall be to them neither son nor seed.... There shall be to them
neither root below nor fruit above, nor honor among the living under the
sun.'" [10]

The idle man does not know what it is to rest. Hard work, moreover, tends
not only to give us rest for the body, but, what is even more important,
peace to the mind. If we have done our best to do, and to be, we can rest
in peace.

"En la sua voluntade e nostra pace." [11] In His will is our peace; and in
such peace the mind will find its truest delight, for

"When care sleeps, the soul wakes."

In youth, as is right enough, the idea of exertion, and of struggles, is
inspiriting and delightful; but as years advance the hope and prospect of
peace and of rest gain ground gradually, and

"When the last dawns are fallen on gray,
And all life's toils and ease complete,
They know who work, not they who play,
If rest is sweet." [12]

[1] Gray.

[2] Jefferies.

[3] Tennyson.

[4] Emerson.

[5] Morris.

[6] Coleridge.

[7] Goethe.

[8] Ruskin.

[9] Epictetus.

[10] From Sir M. S. Grant Duff's _A Winter in Syria_.

[11] Dante.

[12] Symonds.

CHAPTER XI.

RELIGION.

"For what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, to love
mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God."--MICAH.

"Pure religion and undefiled is this, to visit the fatherless and
widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the
world."--JAMES I.

"The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life."

2 CORINTHIANS.

CHAPTER XI.

RELIGION.

It would be quite out of place here to enter into any discussion of
theological problems or to advocate any particular doctrines. Nevertheless
I could not omit what is to most so great a comfort and support in sorrow
and suffering, and a source of the purest happiness.

We commonly, however, bring together under this term two things which are
yet very different: the religion of the heart, and that of the head. The
first deals with conduct, and the duties of Man; the second with the
nature of the supernatural and the future of the soul, being in fact a
branch of knowledge.

Religion should be a strength, guide, and comfort, not a source of
intellectual anxiety or angry argument. To persecute for religion's sake
implies belief in a jealous, cruel, and unjust Deity. If we have done our
best to arrive at the truth, to torment oneself about the result is to
doubt the goodness of God, and, in the words of Bacon, "to bring down the
Holy Ghost, instead of the likeness of a dove, in the shape of a raven."
"The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life," and the first duty of
religion is to form the highest possible conception of God.

Many a man, however, and still more many a woman, render themselves
miserable on entering life by theological doubts and difficulties. These
have reference, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, not to what we
should do, but to what we should think. As regards action, conscience is
generally a ready guide; to follow it is the real difficulty. Theology, on
the other hand, is a most abstruse science; but as long as we honestly
wish to arrive at truth we need not fear that we shall be punished for
unintentional error. "For what," says Micah, "doth the Lord require of
thee, but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God."
There is very little theology in the Sermon on the Mount, or indeed in any
part of the Gospels; and the differences which keep us apart have their
origin rather in the study than the Church. Religion was intended to bring
peace on earth and goodwill toward men, and whatever tends to hatred and
persecution, however correct in the letter, must be utterly wrong in the
spirit.

How much misery would have been saved to Europe if Christians had been
satisfied with the Sermon on the Mount!

Bokhara is said to have contained more than three hundred colleges, all
occupied with theology, but ignorant of everything else, and it was
probably one of the most bigoted and uncharitable cities in the world.
"Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth."

We must not forget that

"He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small."

Theologians too often appear to agree that

"The awful shadow of some unseen power
Floats, though unseen, among us"; [1]

and in the days of the Inquisition many must have sighed for the cheerful
child-like religion of the Greeks, if they could but have had the Nymphs
and Nereids, the Fays and Faeries, with Destiny and Fate, but without
Jupiter and Mars.

Sects are the work of Sectarians. No truly great religious teacher, as
Carlyle said, ever intended to found a new Sect.

Diversity of worship, says a Persian proverb, "has divided the human race
into seventy-two nations." From among all their dogmas I have selected
one--"Divine Love." And again, "He needs no other rosary whose thread of
life is strung with the beads of love and thought."

There is more true Christianity in some pagan Philosophers than in certain
Christian theologians. Take, for instance, Plato, Marcus Aurelius,
Epictetus, and Plutarch.

"Now I, Callicles," says Socrates, "am persuaded of the truth of these
things, and I consider how I shall present my soul whole and undefiled
before the judge in that day. Renouncing the honors at which the world
aims, I desire only to know the truth, and to live as well as I can, and,
when the time comes, to die. And, to the utmost of my power, I exhort all
other men to do the same. And in return for your exhortation of me, I
exhort you also to take part in the great combat, which is the combat of
life, and greater than every other earthly conflict."

"As to piety toward the Gods," says Epictetus, "you must know that this is
the chief thing, to have right opinions about them, to think that they
exist, and that they administer the All well and justly; and you must fix
yourself in this principle (duty), to obey them, and to yield to them in
everything which happens, and voluntarily to follow it as being
accomplished by the wisest intelligence."

"Do not act," says Marcus Aurelius, "as if thou wert going to live ten
thousand years. Death hangs over thee. While thou livest, while it is in
thy power, be good....

"Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment,
regulate every act and thought accordingly. But to go away from among men,
if there be gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the gods will not
involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or if they have no
concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe devoid
of gods, or devoid of Providence. But in truth they do exist, and they do
care for human things, and they have put all the means in man's power to
enable him not to fall into real evils. And as for the rest, if there was
anything evil, they would have provided for this also, that it should be
altogether in a man's power not to fall into it."

And Plutarch: "The Godhead is not blessed by reason of his silver and
gold, nor yet Almighty through his thunder and lightnings, but on account
of knowledge and intelligence."

It is no doubt very difficult to arrive at the exact teaching of Eastern
Moralists, but the same spirit runs through Oriental Literature. For
instance, in the _Toy Cart_, when the wicked Prince wishes Vita to murder
the Heroine, and says that no one would see him, Vita declares "All nature
would behold the crime--the Genii of the Grove, the Sun, the Moon, the
Winds, the Vault of Heaven, the firm-set Earth, the mighty Yama who judges
the dead, and the conscious Soul."

Take even the most extreme type of difference. Is the man, says Plutarch,
"a criminal who holds there are no gods; and is not he that holds them to
be such as the superstitious believe them, is he not possessed with
notions infinitely more atrocious? I for my part would much rather have
men say of me that there never was a Plutarch at all, nor is now, than to
say that Plutarch is a man inconstant, fickle, easily moved to anger,
revengeful for trifling provocations, vexed at small things."

There is no doubt a tone of doubting sadness in Roman moralists, as in
Hadrian's dying lines to his soul--

"Animula, vagula, blandula
Hospes, comesque corporis
Qua nunc abibis in loca:
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,
Nec, ut soles, dabis jocos."

The same spirit indeed is expressed in the epitaph on the tomb of the Duke
of Buckingham in Westminster Abbey--

"Dubius non improbus vixi
Incertus morior, non perturbatus;
Humanum est nescire et errare,
Deo confido
Omnipotenti benevolentissimo:
Ens entium miserere mei."

Many things have been mistaken for religion, selfishness especially, but
also fear, hope, love of music, of art, of pomp; scruples often take the
place of love, and the glory of heaven is sometimes made to depend upon
precious stones and jewelry. Many, as has been well said, run after
Christ, not for the miracles, but for the loaves.

In many cases religious differences are mainly verbal. There is an Eastern
tale of four men, an Arab, a Persian, a Turk, and a Greek, who agreed to
club together for an evening meal, but when they had done so they
quarrelled as to what it should be. The Turk proposed Azum, the Arab Aneb,
the Persian Anghur, while the Greek insisted on Stapylion. While they were
disputing

"Before their eyes did pass,
Laden with grapes, a gardener's ass.
Sprang to his feet each man, and showed,
With eager hand, that purple load.
'See Azum,' said the Turk; and 'see
Anghur,' the Persian; 'what should be
Better.' 'Nay Aneb, Aneb 'tis,'
The Arab cried. The Greek said, 'This
Is my Stapylion.' Then they bought
Their grapes in peace.
Hence be ye taught." [2]

It is said that on one occasion, when Dean Stanley had been explaining his
views to Lord Beaconsfield, the latter replied, "Ah! Mr. Dean, that is all
very well, but you must remember,--No dogmas, no Deans." To lose such
Deans as Stanley would indeed be a great misfortune; but does it follow?
Religions, far from being really built on Dogmas, are too often weighed
down and crushed by them. No one can doubt that Stanley has done much to
strengthen the Church of England.

We may not always agree with Spinoza, but is he not right when he says,
"The first precept of the divine law, therefore, indeed its sum and
substance, is to love God unconditionally as the supreme
good--unconditionally, I say, and not from any love or fear of aught
besides"? And again, that the very essence of religion is belief in "a
Supreme Being who delights in justice and mercy, whom all who would be
saved are bound to obey, and whose worship consists in the practice of
justice and charity toward our neighbors"?

Doubt is of two natures, and we often confuse a wise suspension of
judgment with the weakness of hesitation. To profess an opinion for which
we have no sufficient reason is clearly illogical, but when it is
necessary to act we must do so on the best evidence available, however
slight that may be. Herein lies the importance of common sense, the
instincts of a General, the sagacity of a Statesman. Pyrrho, the
recognized representative of doubt, was often wise in suspending his
judgment, however foolish in hesitating to act, and in apologizing when,
after resisting all the arguments of philosophy, an angry dog drove him
from his position.

Collect from the Bible all that Christ thought necessary for his
disciples, and how little Dogma there is. "Pure religion and undefiled is
this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep
himself unspotted from the world." "By this shall all men know that ye are
my disciples, if ye have love one to another." "Suffer little children to
come unto me." And one lesson which little children have to teach us is
that religion is an affair of the heart and not of the mind only.

Why should we expect Religion to solve questions with reference to the
origin and destiny of the Universe? We do not expect the most elaborate
treatise to tell us the origin of electricity or of heat. Natural History
throws no light on the origin of life. Has Biology ever professed to
explain existence?

"Simonides was asked at Syracuse by Hiero, who or what God was, when he
requested a day's time to think of his answer. On subsequent days he
always doubled the period required for deliberation; and when Hiero
inquired the reason, he replied that the longer he considered the subject,
the more obscure it appeared."

The Vedas say, "In the midst of the sun is the light, in the midst of
light is truth, and in the midst of truth is the imperishable being."
Deity has been defined as a circle whose centre is everywhere, and whose
circumference is nowhere, but the "God is love" of St. John appeals more
forcibly to the human soul.

The Church is not a place for study or speculation. Few but can sympathize
with Eugenie de Gurein in her tender affection for the little Chapel at
Cahuze where she tells us she left "tant de miseres."

Doubt does not exclude Faith.

"Perplexed in faith, but pure in deeds
At last he beat his music out.
There lies more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds." [3]

And if we must admit that many points are still, and probably long will be
involved in obscurity, we may be pardoned if we indulge ourselves in
various speculations both as to our beginning and our end.

"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;
The soul that rises with us, our life's star
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar;
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God who is our home." [4]

Unfortunately many have attempted to compound for wickedness in life by
purity of belief, a vain and fruitless effort. To do right is the sure
ladder which leads up to Heaven, though the true faith will help us to
find and to climb it.

"It is my duty to have loved the highest,
It surely was my profit had I known,
It would have been my pleasure had I seen."

But though religious truth can justify no bitterness, it is well worth any
amount of thought and study.

I hope I shall not be supposed to depreciate any honest effort to arrive
at truth, or to undervalue the devotion of those who have died for their
religion. But surely it is a mistake to regard martyrdom as a merit, when
from their own point of view it was in reality a privilege.

Let every man be persuaded in his own mind

"Truth is the highest thing that man may keep." [5]

To arrive at truth we should spare ourselves no pain, but certainly
inflict none on others.

We may be sure that quarrels will never advance religion, and that to
persecute is no way to convert. No doubt those who consider that all who
do not agree with them will suffer eternal torments, seem logically
justified in persecution even unto death. Such a course, if carried out
consistently, might stamp out a particular sect, and any sufferings which
could be inflicted here would on this hypothesis be as nothing in
comparison with the pains of Hell. Only it must be admitted that such a
view of religion is incompatible with any faith in the goodness of God,
and seems quite irreconcilable with the teaching of Christ.

Moreover, the Inquisition has even from its own point of view proved
generally a failure. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.

"In obedience to the order of the Council of Constance (1415) the remains
of Wickliffe were exhumed and burnt to ashes, and these cast into the
Swift, a neighboring brook running hard by, and thus this brook hath
conveyed his ashes into Avon; Avon into Severn; Severn into the narrow
seas; they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wickliffe are the
emblem of his doctrine, which now is dispersed all the world over." [6]

The Talmud says that when a man once asked Shamai to teach him the Law in
one lesson, Shamai drove him away in anger. He then went to Hillel with
the same request. Hillel said, "Do unto others as you would have others do
unto you. This is the whole Law; the rest, merely Commentaries upon it."

The Religion of the lower races is almost as a rule one of terror and of
dread. Their deities are jealous and revengeful, cruel, merciless, and
selfish, hateful and yet childish. They require to be propitiated by
feasts and offerings, often even by human sacrifices. They are not only
exacting, but so capricious that, with the best intentions, it is often
impossible to be sure of pleasing them. From such evil beings Sorcerers
and Witches derived their hellish powers. No one was safe. No one knew
where danger lurked. Actions apparently the most trifling might be fraught
with serious risk: objects apparently the most innocent might be fatal.

In many cases there are supposed to be deities of Crime, of Misfortunes,
of Disease. These wicked Spirits naturally encourage evil rather than
good. An energetic friend of mine was sent to a district in India where
smallpox was specially prevalent, and where one of the principal Temples
was dedicated to the Goddess of that disease. He had the people
vaccinated, in spite of some opposition, and the disease disappeared, much
to the astonishment of the natives. But the priests of the Deity of
Smallpox were not disconcerted; only they deposed the Image of their
discomfited Goddess, and petitioned my friend for some emblem of himself
which they might install in her stead.

We who are fortunate enough to live in this comparatively enlightened
century hardly realize how our ancestors suffered from their belief in the
existence of mysterious and malevolent beings; how their life was
embittered and overshadowed by these awful apprehensions.

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