uences of climate; and some of our grandest examples
of men and of races come from the equatorial regions--as the genius of
Egypt, of India, and of Arabia.

These feats are measures or traits of civility; and temperate climate is
an important influence, though not quite indispensable; for there have
been learning, philosophy, and art in Iceland, and in the tropics. But one
condition is essential to the social education of man, namely, morality.
There can be no high civility without a deep morality, though it may not
always call itself by that name, but sometimes the point of honor, as in
the institution of chivalry; or patriotism, as in the Spartan and Roman
republics; or the enthusiasm of some religious act which imputes its
virtue to its dogma; or the cabalism, or _esprit de corps_, of a masonic
or other association of friends.

The evolution of a highly-destined society must be moral; it must run in
the grooves of the celestial wheels. It must be catholic in aims. What is
_moral_? It is the respecting in action catholic or universal ends. Hear
the definition which Kant gives of moral conduct: "Act always so that the
immediate motive of thy will may become a universal rule for all
intelligent beings."

Civilization depends on morality. Everything good in man leans on what is
higher. This rule holds in small as in great. Thus, all our strength and
success in the work of our hands depend on our borrowing the aid of the
elements. You have seen a carpenter on a ladder with a broad axe chopping
upward chips from a beam. How awkward! at what disadvantage he works! But
see him on the ground, dressing his timber under him. Now, not his feeble
muscles, but the force of gravity brings down the axe; that is to say, the
planet itself splits his stick. The farmer had much ill-temper, laziness,
and shirking to endure from his hand-sawyers, until one day he bethought
him to put his saw-mill on the edge of a waterfall; and the river never
tires of turning his wheel: the river is good-natured, and never hints an
objection.

We had letters to send: couriers could not go fast enough, nor far enough;
broke their wagons, foundered their horses; bad roads in spring,
snow-drifts in winter, heats in summer; could not get the horses out of a
walk. But we found out that the air and earth were full of electricity,
and always going our way--just the way we wanted to send. _Would he take a
message?_ Just as lief as not; had nothing else to do;