I might convince your understanding of the propriety of Epicureanism, of the grandeur and nobleness of Stoicism; I might warm you in this direction; I might chill you in that; but when I speak to that part of your nature which is deeper and nobler than the intellect; when I come to ask the suffrage of a simple human nature, I must be armed with a sublimer word than the language of either. Take Christianity in comparison with them; it teaches that there is consistency and coherency between virtue and pleasure, but that I am to be loyal to virtue. It unites the opposite systems of Epicurus and Zeno; it takes their half-truths and solidifies and unites them in one complete full-orbed and rounded whole.
[The following poem is founded on a traditionary story which is common on the borders of the great Falls of Niagara, although differing in some unimportant particulars.]
The rain fell in torrents, the thunder roll'd deep, And silenced the cataract's roar; But neither the night, nor the tempest could keep The warrior chieftain on shore.
The war-shout has sounded, the stream must be cross'd Why lingers the leader afar? 'Twere better his life than his glory be lost; He never came late to the war.
He seized a canoe as he sprang from the rock, But fast as the shore fled his reach, The mountain wave seem'd all his efforts to mock, And dash'd the canoe on the beach.
"Great Spirit," he cried "shall the battle be given, And all but their leader be there? May this struggle land me with them or in heaven!" And he push'd with the strength of despair.
He has quitted the shore, he has gained the deep; His guide is the lightning alone! But he felt not with fast, irresistible sweep, The rapids were bearing him down!
But the cataract's roar with the thunder now vied; "Oh, what is the meaning of this?" He spoke, and just turn'd to the cataract's side, As the lightning flash'd down the abyss.
All the might of his arm to one effort was given, At self-preservation's command; But the treacherous oar with the effort was riven, And the fragment remain'd in his hand.
"Be it so," cried the warrior, taking his seat, And folding his bow to his breast; "Let the cataract shroud my pale corpse with its sheet, And its roar lull my spirit to rest.