352. Impatience here is a very bad sign.  I do not like your patriots, who, because the tree does not give way at once, fall to blaming all about them, accuse their fellow-sufferers of cowardice, because they do not do that which they themselves dare not think of doing.  Such conduct argues chagrin and disappointment; and these argue a selfish feeling:  they argue, that there has been more of private ambition and gain at work than of public good.  Such blamers, such general accusers, are always to be suspected.  What does the real patriot want more than to feel conscious that he has done his duty towards his country; and that, if life should not allow him time to see his endeavours crowned with success, his children will see it?  The impatient patriots are like the young men (mentioned in the beautiful fable of LA FONTAINE) who ridiculed the man of fourscore, who was planting an avenue of very small trees, which, they told him, that he never could expect to see as high as his head.  ‘Well,’ said he, ’and what of that?  If their shade afford me no pleasure, it may afford pleasure to my children, and even to you; and, therefore, the planting of them gives me pleasure.’

353.  It is the want of the noble disinterestedness, so beautifully expressed in this fable, that produces the impatient patriots.  They wish very well to their country, because they want some of the good for themselves.  Very natural that all men should wish to see the good arrive, and wish to share in it too; but, we must look on the dark side of nature to find the disposition to cast blame on the whole community because our wishes are not instantly accomplished, and especially to cast blame on others for not doing that which we ourselves dare not attempt.  There is, however, a sort of patriot a great deal worse than this; he, who having failed himself, would see his country enslaved for ever, rather than see its deliverance achieved by others.  His failure has, perhaps, arisen solely from his want of talent, or discretion; yet his selfish heart would wish his country sunk in everlasting degradation, lest his inefficiency for the task should be established by the success of others.  A very hateful character, certainly, but, I am sorry to say, by no means rare. Envy, always associated with meanness of soul, always detestable, is never so detestable as when it shows itself here.

354.  Be it your care, my young friend (and I tender you this as my parting advice), if you find this base and baleful passion, which the poet calls ‘the eldest born of hell;’ if you find it creeping into your heart, be it your care to banish it at once and for ever; for, if once it nestle there, farewell to all the good which nature has enabled you to do, and to your peace into the bargain.  It has pleased God to make an unequal distribution of talent, of industry, of perseverance, of a capacity to labour, of all the qualities that give men distinction.