r hungry sharks. Then comes bankruptcy;
sober thought repels the fiend that had been making a waste of life, or
the same passion drives its possessor to become a busy body and zealot
in the current excitement of the times; or absolute despair, ennui in
its intensity, leads to insanity.

For the mad house, too, as well as the debtor's gaol, is in part peopled
by the same blighting power, and nature recovers itself from a state of
languid apathy, only by the terrific excitement of frenzy. Or a passion
for suicide ensues; the mind revels in the contemplation of the grave,
and covets the aspect of the countenance of death as the face of a
familiar friend. The mind invests itself in the sombre shades of a
melancholy longing after eternal rest--a longing which is sometimes
connected with unqualified disbelief, and sometimes associates itself
with an undefined desire of a purely spiritual existence.

We might multiply examples of the very extensive prevalence of that
unhappy languor of which we are treating. Let us aim rather at observing
the limit of its power.

It was a foolish philosophy, which believed in ennui as an evidence and
a means of human perfectibility. The only exertions which it is capable
of producing, are of a subordinate character. It may give to passion a
fearful intensity, consequent on a state of moral disease; but human
virtue must be the result of far higher causes. The exercise of
principle, the generous force of purified emotions, cheerful desire, and
willing industry, are the parents of real greatness. If we look through
the various departments of public and of intellectual action, we shall
find the mark of inferiority upon every thing which has sprung from
ennui. In philosophy, it might produce the follies of Cynic oddity, but
not the sublime lessons of Pythagoras or Socrates. In poetry, it may
produce effusions from persons of quality, devoid of wit, but it never
could have pointed the satire of Pope. In the mechanic arts it may
contrive a balloon, but never could invent a steam-boat. In religion, it
stumbles at a thousand knotty points in metaphysical theology, but it
never led the soul to intercourse with heaven, or to the contemplation
of divine truth.

The celebrated son of Philip was a man of exalted genius; and political
wisdom had its share in his career. Ennui could never have produced
Macedonia's madman, but it may well put in its claim to the Swede. Or
let us look rather for a conquero