e, and mournful fall. And men speak of
the future still with these awful monuments of fragility before their
eyes!

But it is the sad fate of Humanity that, encompassing its hopes, fears,
contentment, and wishes, within the narrow scope of momentary
satisfaction, the great lesson of history is taught almost in vain.
Whatever be its warnings, we rely on our good fortune; and we are
ingenious in finding out some soothing pretext to lull down the dreadful
admonitions of history. Man, in his private capacity, consoles the
instinctive apprehension of his heart with the idea that his condition
is different from what warningly strikes his mind. The patriot feels
well, that not only the present, but also the future of his beloved
country, has a claim to his cares; but he lulls himself into
carelessness by the ingenious consolation that the condition of his
country is different--that it is not obnoxious to those faults which
made other countries decline and fall; that the time is different; the
character and spirit of the nation are different, its power not so
precarious, and its prosperity more solid; and that, therefore, it will
not share the same fate of those which vanished like a dream. And the
philanthropist, also, whose heart throbs for the lasting welfare of all
humanity, cheers his mind with the idea that, after all, mankind at
large is happier than it was of yore, and that this happiness ensures
the future against the reverses of olden times.

That fallacy, natural as it may be, is a curse which weighs heavily on
us. Let us see in what respect our age is different from those olden
times. Is mankind more virtuous than it has been of yore? Why, in this
enlightened age, are we not looking for virtuous inspirations to the
god-like characters of these olden times? If we take virtue to be love
of the laws, and of the Fatherland, dare we say that our age is more
virtuous? If that man is to be called virtuous, who, in all his acts,
is but animated by a regard to the common good, and who, in every case,
feels ready to subordinate his own selfish interest to public
exigencies--if that be virtue (as indeed it is), I may well appeal to
the conscience of mankind to give an impartial verdict upon the
question, if our age be more virtuous than the age of Codrus or of
Regulus, of Decius and of Scaevola. Look to the school of Zeno, the
stoics of immortal memory; and when you see them contemning alike the
vanity of riches and the amb