It is a species of happiness to be
the possessor of learning, fame, or power; and therefore, perhaps, he is
the most miserable man who is the most ignorant, despised, and helpless.
No; there is a man more wretched than these. We know not where he may be
found; but find him where you will, in a prison or on a throne, steeped
in poverty or surrounded with princely affluence; execrated, as he
deserves to be, or crowned with world-wide applause; that man is the
most miserable whose heart contains the least love for others.

It is a pleasure to be beloved. Who has not felt this? Human affection
is priceless. A fond heart is more valuable than the Indies. But it is
a still greater pleasure to love than to be loved; the emotion itself
is of a higher kind; it calls forth our own powers into more agreeable
exercise, and is independent of the caprice of others. Generally
speaking, if we deserve to be loved, others will love us, but this is
not always the case. The love of others towards us, is not always
in proportion to our real merits; and it would be unjust to make our
highest happiness dependent on it. But our love for others will always
be in proportion to our real goodness; the more amiable, the more
excellent we become, the more shall we love others; it is right,
therefore, that this love should be made capable of bestowing upon
us the largest amount of happiness. This is the arrangement which the
Creator has fixed upon. By virtue of our moral constitution, to love is
to be happy; to hate is to be wretched.

Hatred is a strong word, and the idea it conveys is very repulsive. We
would hope that few of our readers know by experience what it is in its
full extent. To be a very demon, to combine in ourselves the highest
possible degree of wickedness and misery, nothing more is needful than
to hate with sufficient intensity. But though, happily, comparatively
few persons are fully under the influence of this baneful passion, how
many are under it more frequently and powerfully than they ought to be?
How often do we indulge in resentful, revengeful feelings, with all
of which hatred more or less mixes itself? Have we not sometimes
entertained sentiments positively malignant towards those who have
wounded our vanity or injured our interests, secretly wishing them ill,
or not heartily wishing them happiness? If so, we need only consult
our own experience to ascertain that such feelings are both sinful and
foolish; they offend ou