SAVAGE AND CIVILIZED LIFE. 



421 



middle condition of moral cultivation usually to be met with in the villages 

 and smaller towns of a highly civilized people, where the moral affections 

 have sweetened the heart, but refinement has not yet sweetened the manners. 

 Let us transport ourselves for a few minutes to Wales, the Highlands of 

 Scotland,* or the banks of the Garonne. In any of these regions, we shall 

 be received upon a proper introduction, and often without any introduction 

 whatever, with an honest though a homely welcome; the chief virtues of the 

 heart we shall find to be chastity, sincerity, frugality, and industry ; its chief 

 feelings, cheerfulness, content, and good- will ; if they know little of the 

 sublimer, they know nothing of the turbulent passions : — 



Far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife, 



Their sober wishes never learn to stray ; 

 Along the cool sequestered vale of life 



They keep the noiseless tenor of their way. 



At the same time, we shall find an evident distinction of national charac- 

 ter ; the first of these tribes evincing an enthusiastic fondness for the shadowy 

 traditions, and the antiquated, perhaps the fabulous, heroes of their country, 

 from some of whom every one believes himself to be lineally descended ; 

 the second, an ardent attachment to their respective lairds, and the hardy in- 

 dividuals that compose their respective clans ; and the third, an elastic and 

 ebullient vivacity, that seems to fit them for happiness in any country, and 

 almost under any circumstances. 



If, from these scenes of simple life and ingenuous manners, we pass to the 

 crowded capitals of refinement and luxury, we shall see more perhaps to 

 admire, but certainly more to disrelish and weep over ; a strange intermix- 

 ture of the noblest virtues and the foulest vices ; the mind in some instances 

 drawn forth to its utmost stretch of elevation and genius, and in others sunk 

 into infamy and ruin ; a courtesy of attention that enters into all our feelings, 

 and anticipates all our wants ; delicacy of taste ; punctilious honour ; sprightly 

 gallantry ; splendour and magnificence ; wit, mirth, g-Ayety, and pleasure of 

 every kind. Of national character, however, we find little or nothing : like 

 the pebbles in a river, all roughnesses are smoothed away by mutual friction 

 into one common polish. It is easy, indeed, to perceive that every thing tends 

 to an extreme ; the jaded taste becomes fastidious, and is perpetually hunting 

 for something new; gallantry degenerates into seduction; fine, trembling 

 honour, into an irritable thirst to avenge trifles ; the heart is full of restless- 

 ness and fever. In the general pursuit of happiness, contentment is alto- 

 g^ether unknown ; no one is satisfied with his actual rank and condition, 

 and is perpetually striving to surpass or surplant his neighbour; and 

 striving, too, by all the machinery he can bring into play. Hence, in the 

 more refined ranks, all is flattery, servility, and corruption; in the busy walks 

 of traffic and commerce, all is wild venture, speculation, and hazard ; the 

 bosom is distracted with the civil warfare of avarice, ambition, pride, envy, 

 and sullen rancour ; the whole surface is at length hollow and showy, and 

 the face becomes no index to the feelings. There is no necessity for dwell- 

 ing on those open and atrocious villains, that, like vermin on a putrid carcass, 

 such a state of things must indispensably generate and fatten ; — the haggard 

 tribe of anxiety, vexation, and disappointment — the downfall of splendour — 

 the mortification of pride — the failure of friendship — the sting of ingratitude 

 — the violation of sacred trusts — blasted expectations, and disconcerted pro- 

 jects — the cup of joy dashed from the lips that are sipping it — hope ship- 

 wrecked on the verge of possession — the agony of the mighty adventurer, 

 who for months beforehand sees the tempest of his ruin rolling towards him ; 

 sees it, but dares not meet it ; sees it, but perhaps cannot avert it — harrowed 

 through every nerve by the gaunt spectres of approaching shame, by the 

 lamentations of his own family, reduced to beggary, and the cutting rebukes 

 of other families, whom a misplaced confidence has involved in one common 



* See, for a correct description of the amusements, superstitions, and manncss of the Scottish peasantry, 

 Burns's Halloween and his Cottafs Saturday Night. 



