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I have read your letter with the utmost satisfaction. I hope
that the continuance of this correspondence will not prove disagreable
or inconvenient to you. I perswade myself that if it be suffered to
proceed, I should derive the highest entertainment and instruction
from it, and may I not flatter myself that it is calculated to
afford you equal pleasure & improvement? I am not vain enough
to imagine that my weak and desultory efforts will, in any degree
facilitate the discovery of truth. I do not pretend to be rasoner
and shall do little more, at any time, than throw upon the
page the conceptions of the moment, than mingle, with capricious
eagerness and copiousness, the streem of Sentiment and fancy,
amuse my able
‸ amiable correspondent with the air built Structures
of a wild, undisciplined, intractable imagination, and whisper
soft effusions of a soul that longs to mingle with a kindred
spirit in his minds attentive ear.
Pity is the friend of virtue and the daughter of benevolence
but is not, as She is commonly though erroniously imagined, the
same identical personage. In my letter from Schuylkill Delaware
I intended obliquely to insinuate this opinion, but I gather from the
letter which lies before me that this opinion is also yours; That you
justly distinguish between Grief Benevolence and pity.
All disputes of this kind are, for the most part, merely verbal
and are therefore useful for no other purpose than the promotion of
accuracy and precision, but yet this end is of some importance.
Benevolence is the desire of rendering others happy. Beneficence
is the act of conferring happiness. Pity or compassion is a sympathy or
fellow-feeling with those that are afflicted. It is that emotion which is
excited by the contemplation of Misery. Does not benevolence necessarily
imply pity? but though they may always be united they are, perhaps, not
the same.
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You appear to think that pity differs from Benevolence only as it operates
in a more contracted sphere, and is not essentially distinct from it. I cannot
easily adopt your opinion. I think they differ in their essence. Benevolence
necessarily implies pity. He that wishes to relieve the miseryble, which is
the proper definition of a benevolent man, must previously be sencible of
Pity for their distresses. Different men may display different degrees of
Benevolence; and he who desires the felicity of a single person, is, according
to the proper meaning of the term, benevolent in a certain degree.
You seem also to confound two words manifestly distinguishable
from each other, and appear to discover no difference between him who
merely wishes that another should be happy, and him that actually
makes him so: between him that busies himself in promoting and
him who contents himself with idly and inactively desiring to promote
the good of mankind. If you consider the derivatives of Benevolence
and Benificence, you will readily discover that different ideas are
represented by them. That this difference is founded in the nature of
things and is no less than that which subsists between Volo and
Facio.
I still continue to think that whether Suicide be justifiable or
not, is a question of importance only to those who are incited to
commit it. And surely this observation is indubitably just, whatever
question it regards. When we are to act only in consequence of opinion,
It is necessary that some opinion must
‸ should be clearly and delibrately formed
He who is about to pass a gulph on which he can escape destruction only
by the continuance of a serene sky, ought doubtless to examine
with exactest care, the face of heaven and, by investigating and
comparing present appearances, endeavour to form a rational opinion
with regard to the future, but the same enquiry is evidently,
of no importance to him who tends his flock upon the shore and
who will be equally safe whether the waves be calm or turbulent.
I have always believed that the justice or iniquity of Suicide was a
question merely speculative, and that the decision of it could never
have any influence on the conduct. But this decision is by no means
necessary. I cannot inddeed forbear to form an opinion on this Subject
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but when the time shall arrive at which my practice is to be influence
by my opinions, I shall enquire with infinitely greater vigilance &
caution into the propriety of my conclusions.
You assure me that on a more attentive scrutiny I shall
easily discern the fallacy of all the ‸ arguments that are used in vindication of
suicide. My friend, will you permit me to observe that this
is rather an hazardous and precipitate assertion? I am not so
easily misled as you may possibly imagine. Whether Suicide
was defencible, on moral considerations was once a question of the
last importance to me, and was therefore examined with proportion=
=ate anxiety and caution. There are few Subjects on which I shave
written or reflected more, and therefore am not much pleased to be
told that my conclusions are falacious and that their fallacy
will be obvious on a slight enquiry.
That the Self-destroyer acts in pursuance of necessity;
that he cannot avoid the death on which he rushes; that his
liberty is taken from him, and that he sinks under insuppor=
=table burthen, is a bel position the truth of which I believe
independantly of argument, and which it is useless to denye, or to
endeavour to disprove: My opinion is the dictates of experience
only, and can therefore be no otherwise confuted, than by shewing
that that is not truth which I know, by my own experience, the
most infallable and indisputable criterion, to be true: But this
I cannot but account impossible.
I have stated it as unquestionably certain that no one
destroys himself in consequence of the mere conviction of the moral
justifiableness of his conduct. That Grief must always have extinguish
=ished his love of life, and out-rooted the principle of Self-preser=
=vation: That he acts like one who throws from his hand a heated
piece of iron, by which his flesh would be consumed, instantly and
mechanically, without pausing to deliberate whether it be
proper to hold or
[gap]
relinquish it.
And surely this is not to be denied at least with regard to the
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to the greater number of Self-destroyers. But I cannot dwell on this
subject without reluctance. I do not think it possible and am far from
wishing to make you a convert to my doctrine. I shall always think
I shall always think that he whom a disaster so severe has befallen
as to suggest a deadly resolution, and who acts agreably to this suggestion
and imagines that he is acting justifiably, may easily be justified
Imagine
‸ Examine this position in its full extent and you will find it impossi=
=ble to doubt the truth of it.
Every man must determine with regard to the propriety of
his own actions. The reason with which he is endowed will enable him
to determine aright; At least, whatever be its dictates, it is ‸ his
duty to obey
them, and to disregard the decisions of other. He cannot be censured or
punished for any action, which did not appear to himself to be
criminal.
In allotting to every man his final reward or punishment
the judge will undoubtedly consider, not the naked and abstract
propriety or impropriety of actions, but the circumstances by which
they were suggested, the intention with which they were committed,
and the opinion which he who committed them, had formed of them
If a man acts, in his own opinion, justly, who shall presume to censure or
to punish him?
Every destroyer of himself must be of opinion that he is
acting either criminally or not. That he was not conscious of acting
guiltyly is surely a sufficient justification. Whatever be the speculative
notions of another person, I am to be governed by my own conceptions of
Right and wrong. He that does a deed of Benevolence or heroism on the
supposition that he is acting wickedly, is surely just as culpable as he
would be were it in reality wicked. Vice and virtue are terms relative only
to the intention or opinion of the intelligent agent.
But you may, perhaps, be of opinion that the guiltiness of
his own conduct is evident to every Suicide, that he obscures then the
truth by artful Sophistries which are yet apparent to himself; that he
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assiduously labours to stifle his conviction; and suffers inclination and not
argument to govern his belief. This opinion must arise from your thorough
and complete conviction of the iniquity of Suicide
But, my dear friend, different minds form very different conceptions
of the same thing, and you ought not to be surprised if you should find
that another as firmly believes and as strenuously maintains an
opposite opinion. The number of those who, in killing themselves, do
not wound thier conscience or conviction, may appear to you to be
small; to another, it may seem so large as to embrace the whole.
Now the real number will undoubtedly be the same, however we
should estimate it. It is still certain that those who have fallen
by their ‸ own hands, acted either in opposition or agreably to their own
conviction of truth and justice, and were, therefore, justifiable or not
according to the Sentiment which predominated. it. To shew that every
Self-destroyer, acted criminally, even in his own opinion, it must be
shewn to be impossible for any human being to be convinced by the
arguments which have been alledged in defence of suicide. How shall
this
‸ to
be performed? It is surely no easy undertaking. Your arguments
may appear irresistable to me. If they should produce a change in my
opinion, but I, notwithstanding, should destroy myself, the deed might
possibly, with some appearance of propriety, be deemed iniquitous. But
have those who are already dead been convinced in the same manner?
Have they heard the arguments which you alledge? And were they
followed by conviction?
It is asked whether Suicide be justifiable? Of what solution
is this important question capable? What answer can be given to it?
Only this: It is justifiable in those who think it so; it is criminal in those
who esteem it criminal. But you attempt to reason on the subject.
Preposterous! — What effect can your reasoning produce? Suicide is an
act. An act, considered seperately from the sentiment or purpose,
may
of the agent, may indeed be determined to be useful or detrimental, but
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but whether it be criminal or not, it is absolutely impossible to determine
otherwise than by referring to the original opinion or intention of the
Agent. Your arguments can effect only yourself or those who hear you.
If you are convinced, by reasoning, that to kill yourself would be criminal
in You, Self-destruction would incontestably be criminal; but in others
whom your arguements have not affected in the same manner, where is
the Culpability of Suicide?
On this topic I have formerly soliloquised in a more ardent and
forcible manner. When it is more convenient, you shall, if you have any
inclination, ‸ see my soliloquy.
I am weary of the Subject. As I should not scruple to sacrifice
my life to the happiness of others, I
will not scruple to sacrifice ‸ it to my
own. I did not intend to finish this letter so quickly, though perhaps
it is already disagreeably prolix; at least when compared to yours
I cannot but be ashamed of its prolixity. You will never, my friend, be
called the paper-sparing Bringhurst. Witho how much ease and
expedition do you fill a sheet? But how do you fill it? How
many and how spacious intervals are seen between each line, each
word, each letter! I open your epistles in expectation of a Rich
Repast. I naturally expect that a table of such ample dimensions
must be plenteously and sumptuously piled, but what do I find?
The table is indeed extensive, but the cates are few, the provision scanty,
the banquet frugal. I should be grateful, however, for what is given,
tho’ more would be acceptable. I know that your situation does not
suffer you to be as liberal, as perhaps, you wish to be. Accept my
acknowledgements for what you have thought proper to communicate.
But beware of the consequence: I modestly intend to limit myself,
in my answers to your epistles, to a tenfold proportion. In writing to
me, it is therefore incumbent on you to consider of what length
the letter in reply must be, to be perused without irksomeness or
inconvenience; Since for every ten words, you will be subjected to the
disagreable necessity of reading an hundred;
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I verily believe that I could, without difficulty, croud a
dozen of your sheets into one of my pages. What a provoking prodigali
=ty is here! How wide the meanless and unworded spaces! Every line
and letter looks as if he feared his Neighbour, and endeavoured to
get as far as possible beyond the reach of his Malignity. Of what
ye idiots, are ye afraid? I intreat ye know each other better. You there,
go a little nearer to your Neighbour. Do not appear in my presence
again at such a suspicious and unfriendly distance. Ye cover a wider
field than belongs to you. If ever ye come within the reach, of my pen
I will tell y a different tale. Ye shall huddle together like pigs in a
storm; I will convert ye from
Giants
into
pigmies, and works, by the assistans
of my Magically spirited pen, as great a Miracle among ye, as was wrought
of old, amidst the throng that waited in the hall of Pandemonium.
| —— So thick the airy croud |
| Swarmed and were straitened; till the signal given |
| Behold a wonder! they but now who seemed |
| In bigness to surpass Earths Giant Sons |
| Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room |
| Throng numberless, like that pygmèan race |
| Beyond the Indian Mount; or fary elves |
| Whose Midnight revels by a forrest side |
| Or fountain some belated peasant sees |
| Or dreams he sees — — — |
Such I promise ye shall be your lot when accident shall you in my way
In the mean time tell your Master and creator, that he will always
find a
Sincere affectionate and faithful friend
in
Vine Street No. 159. —
C. B. Brown ~
11. OClock Tuesday Night ~
|