The Art of Being Happy: From the French of Droz, 'Sur L'art D'être Heureuse'; in a Series of Letters from a Father to His Children: with Observations and Comments
Carter & Hendee, 1832 - 313 Seiten
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The Art of Being Happy: In a Series of Letters from a Father to His Children ...
Eingeschränkte Leseprobe - 2019
The Art of Being Happy: From the French of Droz, 'Sur L'art D'etre Heureux ...
Eingeschränkte Leseprobe - 2018
action affection ambition animal beautiful become believe bring cause character charm circumstances common condition confidence constitution contemplate courage danger death desire direction discipline divine duties earth efforts enjoy enjoyment equally errors evil example existence experience eyes fact faculties fear feeling fortune friends give habits happiness heart hope human ideas imagination important impress indulgence influence inspire interest kind laws learned less LETTER light live means ment mental mind misery moral nature never Note objects observation offer opinion organic ourselves pain parents passed passions persons philosophy physical pleasures possess present principles pursuit question reason relation religion render result seems seen sense sentiment soon sorrows spirit suffering taste temper things thoughts tion true truth universe virtue whole wisdom wise wish
Seite 306 - Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, — the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods — rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
Seite 291 - If a struldbrug happen to marry one of his own kind, the marriage is dissolved of course, by the courtesy of the kingdom, as soon as the younger of the two comes to be fourscore ; for the law thinks it a reasonable indulgence, that those who are condemned, without any fault of their own, to a perpetual continuance in the world, should not have their miseries doubled by the load of a wife.
Seite 292 - Years old. They were the most mortifying Sight I ever beheld, and the Women more horrible than the Men. Besides the usual Deformities in extreme old Age, they acquired an additional Ghastliness in Proportion to their Number of Years, which is not to be described, and among half a Dozen I soon distinguished which was the eldest, although there was not above a Century or two between them.
Seite 267 - Ah why, dear youth, in all the blooming prime Of vernal genius, where disclosing fast Each active worth, each manly...
Seite 291 - For the same reason, they can never amuse themselves with reading, because their memory will not serve to carry them from the beginning of a sentence to the end; and by this defect they are deprived of the only entertainment whereof they might otherwise be capable.
Seite 290 - This he learned from their own confession ; for otherwise there not being above two or three of that species born in an age, they were too few to form a general observation by. When they came to fourscore years, which is reckoned the extremity of living in this country, they had not only all the follies and infirmities of other old men, but many more which arose from the dreadful prospect of never dying.
Seite 291 - Envy, and impotent desires, are their prevailing passions. But those objects against which their envy seems principally directed, are the vices of the younger sort, and the deaths of the old. By reflecting on the former, they find themselves cut off from all possibility of pleasure ; and whenever they see a funeral, they lament and repine that others are gone to a harbour of rest, to which they themselves never can hope to arrive.
Seite 292 - The reader will easily believe, that from. what I had heard and seen, my keen appetite for perpetuity of life, was much abated. I grew heartily ashamed of the pleasing visions I; had formed ; and thought no tyrant could invent a death, into which I would not run with pleasure, from such a life.
Seite 276 - And darkness and doubt are now flying away, No longer I roam in conjecture forlorn. So breaks on the traveller, faint, and astray, The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending, And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom! On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending, And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.