Now that is the wisdom of a man, in every instance of his labor, to hitch his wagon to a star, and see his chore done by the gods themselves.  That is the way we are strong, by borrowing the might of the elements.  The forces of steam, gravity, galvanism, light, magnets, wind, fire, serve us day by day, and cost us nothing.

Our astronomy is full of examples of calling in the aid of these magnificent helpers.  Thus, on a planet so small as ours, the want of an adequate base for astronomical measurements is early felt, as, for example, in detecting the parallax of a star.  But the astronomer, having by an observation fixed the place of a star, by so simple an expedient as waiting six months, and then repeating his observation, contrived to put the diameter of the earth’s orbit, say two hundred millions of miles, between his first observation and his second, and this line afforded him a respectable base for his triangle.

All our arts aim to win this vantage.  We cannot bring the heavenly powers to us, but, if we will only choose our jobs in directions in which they travel, they will undertake them with the greatest pleasure.  It is a peremptory rule with them, that they never go out of their road.  We are dapper little busybodies, and run this way and that way superserviceably; but they swerve never from their fore-ordained paths,—­neither the sun, nor the moon, nor a bubble of air, nor a mote of dust.

And as our handiworks borrow the elements, so all our social and political action leans on principles.  To accomplish anything excellent, the will must work for catholic and universal ends.  A puny creature walled in on every side, as Donne wrote,—­

------“unless above himself he can
Erect himself, how poor a thing is man!”

but when his will leans on a principle, when he is the vehicle of ideas, he borrows their omnipotence.  Gibraltar may be strong, but ideas are impregnable, and bestow on the hero their invincibility.  “It was a great instruction,” said a saint in Cromwell’s war, “that the best courages are but beams of the Almighty.”  Hitch your wagon to a star.  Let us not fag in paltry works which serve our pot and bag alone.  Let us not lie and steal.  No god will help.  We shall find all their teams going the other way,—­Charles’s Wain, Great Bear, Orion, Leo, Hercules:—­every god will leave us.  Work rather for those interests which the divinities honor and promote,—­justice, love, freedom, knowledge, utility.

If we can thus ride in Olympian chariots by putting our works in the path of the celestial circuits, we can harness also evil agents, the powers of darkness, and force them to serve against their will the ends of wisdom and virtue.  Thus, a wise Government puts fines and penalties on pleasant vices.  What a benefit would the American Government, now in the hour of its extreme need, render to itself, and to every city, village, and hamlet in the States, if it would tax whiskey and rum almost to the point of prohibition!  Was it Bonaparte who said that he found vices very good patriots?—­“he got five millions from the love of brandy, and he should be glad to know which of the virtues would pay him as much.”  Tobacco and opium have broad backs, and will cheerfully carry the load of armies, if you choose to make them pay high for such joy as they give and such harm as they do.