The Exile's Adieu to His Native Land [pp. 772-773]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
tion, by looking a little into what is become a reigning
subject.
Though the asking questions may plead for itself the
specious names of modesty and a desire of information,
it affords little pleasure to the rest of the company
who are not troubled with the same doubts; besides
which, he who asks a question, would do well to consider that he lies wholly at the mercy of another before
he receives an answer.
Nothing is more silly, more rude or absurd, than the
pleasure some people take in what they call speaking
their minds. A person of this manner of thinking will
say a rude thing merely for the pleasure of saying it,
when an opposite behavior, full as innocent, might have
preserved his friend, or made his fortune.
It is not possible for a man to form to himself as exquisite pleasure in complying with the humor and sentiments of others, as with bringing others over to-his
own; since it is the certain sign of superior genius
which can assume and become whatever dress it pleases.
We may add, moreover, that there is something which
can never be learnt but in the company of the polite.
The virtues of men are catching, as well as their vices;
and our own observations added to these, will soon discover what it is that commands attention in one man,
and makes us tired and displeased with the discourse of
another.
Literary Society, July 16, 1779.
IV.
Facta Majorum, veluti in Speculum ostendit Historia-Judex
equus bonorum et malorum.
It is not without reason, that history has always
been considered as the light of ages, the depository of
events, the faithful evidence of truth, the source of
prudence and good counsel, and the rule of conduct and
manners-confined without it to the bounds of the age
and country wherein we live, and shut up within the
narrow circle of such branches of knowledge as are
peculiar to us, and the limits of our own private reflectionrs, we continue in a kind of infancy which leaves us
strangers to the rest of the world, and profoundly ignorant of all that has preceded, or even now surrounds us.
What is the small number of years which make up the
longest life, or what the extent of country which we
are able to possess or travel over, but an imperceptible
point in comparison of the vast regions of the universe,
and the long series of ages which have succeeded one
another since the creation of the world? And yet all
we are capable of knowing must be limited to this point,
unless we call in the study of history to our aid, which
opens to us every age and every country, keeps up a
correspondence between us and the great men of antiquity, sets all their actions, all their achievments, virtoes and faults, before our eyes, and by the prudent
reflections it either presents or gives us an opportunity
of making, soon teaches us to be wise in a manner far
superior to the lessons of the greatest masters.
History may properly be called the common school
of mankind, equally open and useful both to great and
small; those necessary and important services can be
obtained only by its assistance, as having the power of
speaking freely, and the right of passing an absolute
judgment on actions of every denomination. Thourgh
the abilities of the great may be extolled, their wit and
valor admired, and their exploits and conquest boasted,
yet if all these have no foundation in truth and justice,
history will tacitly pass sentence upon them, under borrowed names. The greatest part of the most famous
conquerors, we shall find treated as public calamities,
the enemies of mankind, and the robbers of nations;
who, hurried on by a restless and blind ambition, carry
desolation from country to country, and like an inundation or a fire, ravage all they meet in their way. We
shall see a Caligula, a Nero and a Domitian, who,
praised to excess during their lives, become the horror
and execration of mankind after their deaths; whereas
a Titus, a Trajan and a Marcus Aurelius, are still looked
upon as the delights of the world. It is history which
fixes the seal of immortality on actions truly great, and
sets a mark of infancy on vices, which no after-age
can ever obliterate. It is by history that mistaken
merit and oppressed virtue appeal to the uncorrupted
tribunal of posterity, which renders them that justice,
which their own age has sometimes refused them, and,
without respect of persons, and the fear of a power
which subsists no more, condemns the unjust abtuse of
authority with inexorable rigor.
There is no age or condition, which may not derive
the same advantages from History; and what has been
said of princes and conquerors, comprehends also in
some measure, persons in power, ministers of state,
generals of armies, officers, magistrates, and in a word
all those who have authority over others, for such
persons have sometimes more haughtiness, pride and
petulance, in a very limited station, and carry theirdespotic disposition and arbitrary power to the greatest
lengths.
Thus history we see, when it is well taught, becomes
a school of morality for all mankind; it condemns vice,
throws off the mask from false virtues, lays en popular errors and prejudices, dispels the delusive charms of
riches, and all the vain pomp which dazzles the imagination, and shows by a thousand examples that are
more availing than all reasonings whatever, that nothing
is great and commendable but honor and probity. From
the esteem and admiration which the most corrupt cannot refuse to the great and good actions which history
lays before them, it confirms the great and imporant
truth, that virtue is man's real good, and alone can render him truly great and valuable. This virtue we are
taught by history to revere, and to discern its beauty
and brightness through the veils of poverty, adversity
and obscurity, and sometimes even of disgrace and infamy; and on the other hand, it inspires us with contempt and horror of vice, though clothed in purple and
surrounded with splendor.
Literary Society, February 11th, 1780.
THE EXILE'S
ADIEU TO HIS NATIVE LAND.
[Written several years ago.]
The hour is come, and I must part,
My native land, with thee;
The scenes, the tics that hold my heart,
Are thine, fair Land of Liberty!
772