it is highly probable that the active principles by which he will be controlled, will be of a very different nature from what they would have been, if he had been nursed in the tumult and glory of arms. Civilization must have a prodigious effect upon the passions; it must supersede the necessity of revenge, by strengthening the power of law; whereas, in barbarous times, a man has only his own malevolent passions to trust to for protection. Courtesy, and the appearance of benevolence, are fashionable; reputation becomes valuable, and a certain degree of good faith is more generally diffused.

The most considerable difference between the active powers of the sexes, is, that women are more generally under the influence of fear; and they rather avoid shame, than seek glory. They are probably, also, more under the influence of the benevolent feelings than men, because, in the distribution of duties, a great number of benevolent offices devolve upon them; and because they are exempted from all those which require an immediate exertion of the malevolent passions, or at least a suppression of the benevolent ones. It is the duty of men to cut off limbs, hang criminals, and massacre the enemies of their country, whenever they are able: they are soldiers, judges, and physicians: women are carefully protected from every situation which requires the sacrifice of a single instant of benevolence. Speaking very generally and grossly, the effect of solitude is to cherish great virtues, and to destroy little ones. "Society, says Adam Smith, "is the best preservative of that equal and happy temper, which is so necessary to selfsatisfaction and enjoyment: men of retirement and speculation, who are apt to sit brooding at home over either grief or resentment, though they may often have more humanity, more generosity, and a nicer sense of honor, yet seldom possess that equality of temper which is so common among men of the world.”

The difference of the passions, and the different proportions in which the same passions are measured out to different individuals, form the leading and most prominent diversities in human character. Men differ from each other very materially, as their desires are negative

or positive;-as they wish to obtain praise, or to avoid blame. In the first class are the vain, the ambitious, and the active part of the human race: the last contains men of reserve, of humility, and of caution; who, provided they do not incur ridicule and disgrace, are well contented to leave to others the contest for distinction.

Men differ, as their desires are vehement or weak. Some can hardly be said to have any desires at all; others would overturn kingdons, and mingle heaven with earth, to effect the least of all their desires.

Another variety in human character is, the length or continuation of desire, which, united with vehemence of desire, makes, I believe, what we call strength of character; for we could not deny to any man that attribute, who wished any thing vehemently, and continued in the pursuit of it steadily; at least, if it was his habit to feel and act after this manner. Then again, we may observe a striking dissimilarity among men, as they are governed by near or distant motives; or, in other words, as they are under the influence of calm, or strong passions. We distinguish, also, between warm and cold dispositions, that is, between different degrees of the benevolent feelings, as we do between different degrees of irascibility, in the epithets irritable and patient. Some men are extremely benevolent in little things, and distinguish themselves by their politeness; others have the great virtues, and not the lesser ones.

A disposition to fear, or to hope, makes two different classes of men; so does the place, or degree, in which a man puts himself, with regard to his fellow-creatures. It has often been said, that, where the passions are the most difficult to be roused, they are the most terrible when they are roused. It is most probable that this opinion is not quite so true as it is supposed to be, from the deception which, in this case, must necessarily be exercised upon the imagination by the contrast. Whoever were to see a beautiful young lady in a violent rage, would be apt to think it much more excessive and violent, from the mere novelty and surprise of the thing, than if he had beheld a captain of a man-of-war in a similar situation of mind. Again, it must be remembered,

that the causes which throw a person of a mild disposition into a fit of rage, must be very strong, to commit such an outrage upon the customary habits of his nature; whereas, an equal degree of indignation may easily be produced in a more irritable disposition, by a cause less grave and important. But, the degree of provocation being given, and the effects of novelty allowed for, it is not easy to see, why the passions of a phlegmatic man, once roused, should be stronger and more difficult to be allayed than those of one more accustomed to passion. One solution, indeed, there is, which has some appearance of plausibility. Men accustomed, for instance, to anger, may often have suffered from anger; though unable to check the passion entirely, they have learned a certain degree of control over its wildest excesses, and are not, at those moments, quite so unable to govern themselves as they appear to be: but, where passion is new, it is unsuspected, unaccustomed to any check, and much more likely to hurry on to excesses, because its excesses are not feared, and hardly known. There is a certain analogy to this in drunkenness. Professed regular drunkards preserve a certain glimmering of reason, and are seldom very extravagant in their behavior: drunkenness in a person unaccustomed to it is often perfect madness.

Such are a few of the most striking phenomena of the passions, which move the world, and make up the secret life and inward existence of man; for what we do see and know with certainty of any human creature, is, whether he is lodged in marble or in clay,-whether down or straw is his bed,-whether he is clothed in the purple of the world, or molders in rags. The inward world, the man within the breast, the dominion of thought, the region of passion,-all this we can not penetrate: we can never tell how a kind and benevolent heart can cheer a desperate fortune; the comfort which the lowest man may feel in a spotless mind,-the firmness which a man derives from loving justice,-the glory with which he rebukes the bad emotion, and bids his passions be still. Therefore, not to the accidents of life, but to the fountains of thought, and to the springs of pleasure and pain,

should the efforts of man be directed to rear up such sentiments as shall guard us from the pangs of envy; to make us rejoice in the happiness of every sentient being ; to feel too happy ourselves for hatred and resentment; to forget the body, or to enslave it forever; seeking to purify, to exalt, and to refine our nature. This is the rigid discipline of moral philosophy, which, rigid as it is, is so beautiful and so good, that without it no condition of life is tolerable; with it, none wretched, sordid, or

mean.

LECTURE XXIV.

ON THE DESIRES.

66

DR. REID, in his essay upon the Active Powers, remarks of our desires, that they have, all of them, things, not persons, for their object. They neither imply any good nor ill affection towards any person, nor even toward ourselves. They can not, therefore, with propriety be called either selfish or social. But there are various principles of actions in men, which have persons for their immediate objects, and imply, in their very nature, our being well or ill affected to some person, or at least to some animated being. Such principles," says Dr. Reid, "I call by the general name of affections; whether they dispose us to do good or hurt to others." This method, by which passions are referred to persons, and desires to things, has been also adopted by Mr. Dugald Stewart, in his "Outlines of Moral Philosophy," without any alteration. But if desire concern only things, why is the love of esteem classed among the desires? for that, surely, respects persons; and why are joy and grief classed among the passions without any limitation? for grief may be occasioned by the loss of £20,000., as by the loss of an aunt or a cousin. There is a grief occasioned by persons, and a grief occasioned by things; but both Dr. Reid and Mr. Stewart would not scruple to call grief-let its cause be what it would -by the name of passion. The first object, surely, in all investigations of this nature, is to ascertain in what sense such words are actually used: and then, after showing that such uses are unsatisfactory or vague, to propose that deviation from the established meaning, which, being the most useful, is the least violent. In