The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository: Forming an Interesting Collection of Original and Select Literary Productions in Prose and Verse
General
The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository: Forming an Interesting Collection of Original and Select Literary Productions in Prose and Verse
American periodicals
“Man must be treated in a human manner, and improve by degrees. A sudden
transition from twilight to the radiant glare of the noon-tide sun, from
the land of sweet fancies to pure paradisiacal bliss, would transport
the son of dust beyond himself. For that reason, it was requisite you
should experience all the intermediate degrees of illusion, but not of
an ordinary one, in order to obtain possession of an extraordinary
treasure. That spot, where you will find the talisman which breaks the
magic charm whereby the treasure is withheld from you as yet, is the
highest pinnacle of illusion, and for that very reason the last degree
of it. He who has happily arrived at it, emerges from the mazy labyrinth
of enchantments, beholds a new heaven and a new earth, and, as if new
created, strides over into the kingdom of unadulterated truth and bliss;
where he enters the sacred porch of that eternal temple from which only
the grave separates him.”
“I do not entirely comprehend your emblematical language; will you
explain yourself more at large?” So saying, I offered him a chair; we
sat down, and he began:
“The history of all ages and nations convinces us that all men strive to
be happy: but only the better and nobler part of mankind are in pursuit
of truth; not as if the latter sort did not also contend for happiness,
but because they find it in the contemplation of truth, and do not
believe that happiness can exist, without being founded on the base of
truth. The former class pursue happiness on different and opposite
roads, and when they fancy they have found it, embrace an airy phantom;
the latter class also go in pursuit of truth on different and opposite
roads, and when they fancy they have discovered it, are enraptured at an
_ignis fatuus_. Some of them perceive at last that they are deceived by
illusions, and others do not. The former continue their pursuit by the
road which they have once fallen in with, and finding nothing but new
phantoms and new illusions, spread at length the rumour, that no real
happiness and truth could be met with here below. But suppose a man of
an extraordinary genius, who had been firmly convinced that this
treasure can be found here below, should have attempted to go in search
of it through uncommon and never trodden paths, and at length, after
enormous deviations, which on the unbeaten paths he pursued could not be
avoided, should have found truth and happiness in their natural purity
and sisterly union, and entrusted the secret to his friends under the
condition to communicate it only to a few, and not even to them till
they should have been tried by uncommon delusions of different kinds,
like himself; would you then forgive me, my Lord, if I had deceived you
with that view?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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