All men are seeking, in a way better or worse, this same peace and
rest. Some seek it objectively in mere outward activity. They are
not unfrequently frivolous and ill-furnished within, seeking rest by
travelling, by running from place to place, from company to company,
changing ever their sky but never themselves. Such persons, deeply
to be pitied, seek by dress to hide the nakedness of their souls, or
by the gayety of their own prattle to chill the fire which burns
away their hearts. The merriest faces may be sometimes seen in
mourning coaches; and so, the most melancholy souls, pinched and
pining, sometimes stare at you out of the midst of superficial
smiles and light laughter.
Others seek rest in more adventurous action. Such are mariners,
soldiers, merchants, speculators, politicians, travellers, impelled
to adventurous life to relieve the aching void in their hearts. The
hazards of trade, the changes of political life, cause them to
forget themselves, and so they are rocked into oblivion of internal
disquiet by the toss of the ocean waves. They forget the hollowness
of their own hearts, and cheat themselves into the belief that they
are on their way to peace.
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