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In the summer of 2008, we moved to Setauket, New York, up along the North Shore of Long Island. In the village of Setauket sits a lovely park dedicated to the memory of Frank Melville, Jr. (1850-1935). Inscribed in the park's stone bridge over a pond is a poem:
FRANK MELVILLE JR.
"Here was a man whose heart was good,
Who walked with men and understood.
His was a hand that asked no fee
For friendliness or kindness done.
And now that he has journeyed on
His is a fame that never ends,
And leaves behind uncounted friends."
I paused and wrote these words down on a scrap of paper from my pocket. Frank Melville's life was no doubt a mixture of light and shadow, but if he lived anything like the life that this affirming eulogy hints at, I suspect that he died a satisfied man in large part because he was at least as interested in the happiness of others as in his own. In other words, his happiness came from being a certain kind of loving and giving person.
When we focus too much on our own happiness it eludes us, for lasting satisfaction is best pursued more indirectly as a by-product of purposes that are beyond self-interest. Still, all human beings by nature pursue happiness, and the deeper happiness we all seek comes through discovering and acting upon the power of love within us. Not giddy romanticism, not the love of designer jeans or lobster bisque, but a love extended to others with a helping hand. The thesis can be captured with a phrase: In the giving of self lies the discovery of a deeper and happier self. Here lies the perennial truth that unites all the great religions so far as I am aware.
