of a community, than the wide extension of rational curiosity in the desire of knowledge; it not only increases the comforts, enlivens the feelings, and improves the faculties of man, but it forms the firmest barrier against the love of pleasure, and stops the progress of corruption. Every nation has its chances for happiness increased, in proportion as it honors and rewards a spirit which, above all things, honors and rewards it.

The strongest of all our desires, seems to be the desire of esteem. It is the cause of innumerable other desires: it is the frequent cause (as I have before said) of the love of knowledge: it is the cause, very often, of the love of wealth; for no man, I presume, who lived in a desert, and moved about without a single soul to look at him, would care what sort of a coat he wore, provided he was kept from the cold; or whether he eat out of earthenware, or silver, provided his meat was kept out of the dirt. In the same way, the love of power may be traced to it; not but that there exists a love of power, quite independent of it, but that men very often love power, only for the additional esteem they gain from it among their fellow-creatures. The love of life perpetually gives way to the love of esteem; men are shot, and hacked to pieces, from the hope of gaining esteem, or the fear of losing it. Upon this subject of the desire of esteem, there are two opinions which require consideration; the one of Dr. Adam Smith, the other of Mr. Hume. We are not content," says the former of these writers, "with praise, unless we deserve it; nor are we content with deserving it, unless we obtain it." It is probable, therefore, that there are two original principles in the human mind: the one, the love of praise; the other, the love of praiseworthiness. In the same manner, we are not easy when we are blamed, even though we deserve it; nor are we easy to deserve it, even though we are not blamed: therefore, here the double principle is observable,-first, the dread of blame; next, the dread of blameworthiness. The opinion of Mr. Hume is, that there is no love of the esteem of others, except as that esteem enables us to esteem ourselves; that the thing wanted is self-approbation; and

the praise of others is only important as it is a means of gratifying this feeling.

In the first place, what, in a mere moral point of view, is meant by self-approbation? (Put religion out of the question for a moment.) Examine, in a mere human point of view, what passes in your own mind when you approve yourself. It is really nothing more than that pleasure which results from the esteem of all honest and reflecting men. When you are universally blamed, though you know you have done right, you always comfort yourself that the world would have determined otherwise, had they been acquainted with all the circumstances, and informed of the real motives. You refer the matter to a more enlightened tribunal, or to posterity: you do not pretend to set up your own self-approbation, against the judgment of others; but you approve yourself, merely because you say, better men, more enlightened men, and more impartial men, would have decided in a very different manner. Therefore, I can not see how self-esteem, and the desire of the esteem of others, can be compared together: for, called upon to define self-esteem, I could say nothing else of it than that it was that agreeable feeling which proceeds from the belief that we possess, or that we ought to possess, the esteem of others. Then again, it is very true, that we love praise, and we love to deserve praise; but the love of praiseworthiness is merely a consequence of the love of praise, not an original principle. To make my

meaning the more clear, I will put this case-A great battle is gained, the plan and dispositions of which are admirable; the general who conducted the army is considered as a consummate master of the military art, and arrives at the very summit of reputation as an accomplished officer; but this plan of the battle was drawn out for him the evening before, by one of his aides-de-camp, whose original conception it was, and to whom all the merit is really due. Which is the most enviable situation? His, who is praised without being praiseworthy; or his, who is praiseworthy without being praised? Nobody here could entertain a moment's doubt about the matter, that the praiseworthiness is preferable to the

praise. But why? Merely from the love of praise; merely because it, in the end, procures more praise. A miser may refuse a sum of money, because, by so doing, in the end he may gain a greater: his reputation is worth more to him than the sum which he is offered for it; he does not love reputation better than money, but he loves reputation merely because he loves money. Just so with praiseworthiness: it grows out of the love of praise, and is only preferred to it at any particular time, because, by that temporary preference, it is probable more praise, in the end, will be obtained; at last, like every other preference, it grows into a habit.

The desire of power, I can not better describe than in the words of Mr. Dugald Stewart. I quote from his "Outlines of Moral Philosophy;" and his views_upon this subject appear to be so truly excellent, that I shall quote them at some length :

Whenever we are led to consider ourselves as the authors of any effect, we feel a sensible pride or exultation in the consciousness of power; and the pleasure is, in general, proportioned to the greatness of the effect, compared to the smallness of the exertion.

"The infant, while still on the breast, delights in exerting its little strength upon every object it meets with; and is mortified, when any accident convinces it of its imbecility. The pastimes of the boy are, almost without exception, such as suggest to him the idea of his power: -and the same remark may be extended to the active sports, and the athletic exercises, of youth and of manhood.

"As we advance in years, and as our animal powers lose their activity and vigor, we gradually aim at extending our influence over others, by the superiority of fortune and of situation, or by the still more flattering superiority of intellectual endowment: by the force of our understanding, by the extent of our information, by the arts of persuasion, or the accomplishments of address. What but the idea of power, pleases the orator, in the consciousness of his eloquence; when he silences the reasons of others by superior ingenuity; bends to his purposes their desires and passions; and, without the

aid of force or the splendor of rank, becomes the arbiter of the fate of nations?

"To the same principle we may trace, in part, the pleasure arising from the discovery of general theorems. Every such discovery puts us in possession of innumerable particular truths, or particular facts; and gives us a ready command of a great stock of knowledge, to which we had not access before. The desire of power, therefore, comes, in the progress of reason and experience, to act as an auxiliary to our instinctive desire of knowledge.

"The idea of power is, partly at least, the foundation of our attachment to property. It is not enough for us to have the use of an object. We desire to have it completely at our own disposal; without being responsible to any person whatever.

"Avarice is a particular modification of the desire of power; arising from the various functions of money in a commercial country. Its influence as an active principle is much strengthened by habit and association.

"The love of liberty proceeds, in part, from the same source; from a desire of being able to do whatever is agreeable to our own inclination. Slavery mortifies us, because it limits our power.

"Even the love of tranquillity and retirement has been resolved by Cicero, into the same principle.

"The desire of power is also, in some degree, the foundation of the pleasure of virtue. We love to be at liberty to follow our own inclinations, without being subject to the control of a superior; but this alone is not sufficient to our happiness. When we are led, by vicious habits, or by the force of passion, to do what reason disapproves, we are sensible of a mortifying subjection to the inferior principles of our nature, and feel our own littleness and weakness. A sense of freedom and independence, elevation of mind, and the pride of virtue, are the natural sentiments of the man, who is conscious of being able, at all times, to calm the tumults of passion, and to obey the cool suggestions of duty and honor."

LECTURE XXV.

ON SURPRISE, NOVELTY, AND VARIETY.

STATEMENT OF DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SURPRISE, NOVELTY, AND VARIETY.— EFFECTS OF SURPRISE.-OF CONTRAST.-OF THE TWO KINDS OF NOVELTY. -OF VARIETY.-EFFECTS OF CHANGE.-AND THE EXPLANATION OF THOSE EFFECTS.-HOW FAR NOVELTY IS AGREEABLE.-EXPLANATION OF THE PLEASURE OF NOVELTY.

WONDER, Surprise, and admiration,-words often confounded, denote, in our language, sentiments, which though allied, are also in some respects distinct from one another. What is new and singular, excites the sentiment which, in strict propriety, is called wonder; what is unexpected, surprise; and what is great or beautiful, admiration.

We wonder at all the rare phenomena of nature;—at meteors, comets, and eclipses; at singular plants and animals; and at every thing, in short, with which we have before been, either little, or not at all acquainted; and we still wonder, though forewarned of what we shall

see.

We are surprised with those things which we have seen very often, but which we little expected to meet with in the place where we find them. We are surprised at the sudden appearance of a friend, whom we have seen a thousand times, but whom we did not imagine we were to see then. We admire the beauty of a plain, or the vastness of a mountain, though we have seen both often before; and though nothing appears to us in either, but what we had expected with certainty to see. Or, to take it by illustration, and to exemplify the usages of the three words in one object :-The first time I see St. Paul's, I wonder at it; the hundredth time, I only admire it. If I wake in a coach, and find myself in