The Art of Being Happy: In a Series of Letters from a Father to His Children: with Observations and CommentsDroz, Joseph
Philosophy
The Art of Being Happy: In a Series of Letters from a Father to His Children: with Observations and Comments
Droz, Joseph
Happiness
This sentence, instead of containing a just observation, is only
an epigram. In looking round a circle of individuals, ridiculously
called the world, we shall find happy family establishments less
rare than we imagine. Besides, it would be absurd to count among
unhappy unions, all those which are not wholly exempt from stormy
passions. Not only is perfect felicity a chimerical expectation
on the earth, but we meet with many people who would be fatigued
into ennui in a perfect calm, and who require a little of the spice
of contrariety to season the repast of life. I would not covet
their taste; but there are modes of being singular, which, without
imparting happiness, procure pleasures. Finally, supposing the
number of unhappy marriages to be as immense as is contended, what
is the conclusion? The great majority adopting, as maxims of life,
principles so different from mine, it would be strange if they
obtained such results as I desire.
In these days, the deciding motive with parents, in relation
to marriage, is interest; and, what seems to me revolting in
the spirit of the age, is, that the young have also learned to
calculate. When a man marries simply on a speculation of interest,
if he sees his fortune and distinction secured, reign disorder and
alienation in his house as they may, he is still happier than he
deserves to be.
Our marriages of inclination guaranty happiness no more than our
marriages of interest. What results should be anticipated from
the blind impulse of appetite? Let there be mutual affection,
such as reason can survey with a calm and severe scrutiny. Such
love as is painted in romances is but a fatal fever. It is
children alone who believe themselves in love, only when they feel
themselves in a delirium. They have imagined that life should be
a continual ecstasy; and these indulged dreams of anticipation
spoil the reality of wedded life. I have supposed the husband
older than his wife. I have imagined him forming the character of
his young, fair and docile companion; and that, so to speak, they
have become assimilated to each other’s tastes and habits. The
right combination of reason and love assures for them, under such
circumstances, as much as possible, a futurity of happiness.
I might here speak of the misery of jealousy and infidelity, and
the comparative guilt of these vices in the husband and the wife.
But these are sources of torment only in unions contracted and
sustained by the maxims and the spirit of the world. According
to my views these crimes could not mar the marriages which were
undertaken from right motives, and under the approving sanction of
severe reason. I, therefore, pass them by, as not belonging to my
subject; and as supposing that when marriage is the result of wise
foresight and regulated choice, and when its duties are discharged
from a proper sense of their obligation, such faults can not occur.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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