A convincing demonstration, that an innate principle of elevation exists in the soul, results from the universality of religious ideas. Man is discouraged by his errors, his infirmities and faults in vain. An interior voice admonishes him of his high destination. Transient as he is, and comparatively lost in the immensity of the universe, he invokes the Divinity to sanctify the union of his espousals, and to preside over the birth of his infants. He raises his voice to him over the tombs of his fathers. When the contemplation of the works of the Eternal has inspired him with humble sentiments of himself, he still deems himself superior to all the beings that surround him. Occupying but a point on the globe, his disquieting thoughts embrace the universe. He beholds time devouring the objects of his affections, crumbling monuments and overturning even the works of nature. From the midst of the ruins he aspires to immortality.[24a] What would not these sentiments, at once elevated and good, these precious germs produce, were they developed by happy circumstances! That they exist in the human bosom is a sufficient indication that we owe a tender interest to the being who possesses them. Let us love our kind, and cultivate the virtues which render us worthy of their affection. LETTER XIII. OF SOME OF THE VIRTUES. Placed in the midst of men, the most useful virtue is indulgence. To allow ourselves to become severe, is to forget how many good qualities we want ourselves; and from what faults we are preserved only by chance and our circumstances. It is to forget the weakness of men, and the empire exercised over them by the objects that surround them. To render exact justice to our kind, we ought to take into the estimate all the assistance and all the obstacles, with which they have met in their career. Thus weighing them, celebrated actions will become less astonishing, and faults begin to appear excusable. By cultivating the spirit of indulgence, we learn the happy secret of being well with ourselves, and well with men. Some carry into their intercourse with the world an austere frankness. They are dreaded, and the opposition which they every day experience, increases their disagreeable and tiresome roughness, and their officious rudeness. Others, blushing at no complaisance, and equally supple and false, smile at what displeases them; praise what they feel to be ridiculous; and applaud what they know to be vile. Be indulgent, and you will not sacrifice self-esteem; and your frankness, far from annoying, will render your affability more amiable. The less we occupy ourselves with the vices and aberrations of men, the more pleasant does existence become. Indulgence carries its own recompense with it, and causes us to see our kind almost such as they should be.