and misery. It is narrated of Sylla, the Roman Dictator, that, on a certain occasion, happening to see Julius Cæsar walking immodestly in the streets, he remarked to those around him that he foresaw in that young man many Mariuses; distinctly intimating, that a person so destitute of regard for the feelings and opinions of others, would be likely to take a course dictated by his sensuality or ambition, irrespective in a great degree of the admonitions of conscience and of considerations of the public good. A prediction founded in a knowledge of the principles of human nature, and abundantly verified by the result.

But while we distinctly recognise in the desire of esteem an innocent and highly useful principle, we are carefully to guard, on the other hand, against making the opinion of others the sole and ultimate rule of our conduct. Temporary impulses and peculiar local circumstances may operate to produce a state of public sentiment, to which a good man cannot conscientiously conform. In all cases where moral principles are involved, there is another part of our nature to be consulted. In the dictates of an enlightened Conscience, we find a code to which not only the outward actions, but the appetites, propensities, and affections, are amenable, and which infallibly prescribes the limits of their just exercise. To obey the suggestions of the desire of esteem, in opposition to the requisitions of conscience, would be to subvert the order of the mental constitution, and to transfer the responsibility of the supreme command to a mere sentinel of the outposts.

330. Of the desire of possession.

We are so constituted, that we naturally and necessarily have not only a knowledge of objects, but of a multitude of relations which they sustain. And, among other things, we very early form a notion of the relation of POSSESSION. There are but few suggestions of the intellect with which the mind forms so early an acquaintance as with this. Whenever we see children, as we constantly do, contending with each other for the occupancy of a chair or the control of a rattle, we may be assured that

they have distinctly formed the idea of possession. They know perfectly well what it is, although they cannot define it, and may possibly not be able to give a name to it. Although there can, in reality, be no actual possession without involving the existence of a relation, since the fact or actuality of possession implies, on the one hand, an object which is possessed, and on the other a possessor; nevertheless, as the notion or idea of possession exists suggestively and abstractly in the mind, it is to be regarded as a single and definite object, distinctly perceptible in the mind's eye, and sustaining the same relation to the sensibilities as any other object or relation, either mental or material, which is susceptible of being intellectually represented. Of possession, as thus explained, existing as it were distinctly projected and imbodied in the light of the mental vision, all men appear to have a natural or implanted desire. The fact of its existence, either actual or possible, is revealed in the intellect; and the heart, with an instinctive impulse, corresponds to the perception of the intellect by yielding its complacency and love.

331. Of the moral character of the possessory principle.

Although the desire of possession (the possessory principle, or propension, as it might be conveniently termed) has undoubtedly, like the other propensities, its instinctive action, yet its morality, that is to say, its moral character, depends wholly upon the features of its voluntary action. We are not disposed to speak, as some on a slight examination might be inclined to do, of the possessory principle as being, in a moral sense, an unmixed evil. So far as its action may be regulated, either in the form of restraint or of encouragement, by reason, reflection, and the control, either direct or indirect, of the will, (all of which is implied when we speak of its voluntary action,) just so far it is capable of being either right or wrong, reprehensible or meritorious. When acting independently of all comparison and reflection, it assumes the form of an instinct, is often in that form beneficial, and always innocent; when it usurps the authority due to other and higher principles, prompting us to look with an evil eye

on the rightful possessions of another, and to grasp with an earnest and unholy seizure what does not belong to us, it becomes vicious; when, on the other hand, its action is the reverse of all this, prompted by upright motives, and adhering strictly to the line of rectitude, it is to be regarded as virtuous.

We apprehend it is impossible even to conceive of a being so far elevated in the scale of perception and feeling as to involve moral accountability, which shall be constituted on the principle of an entire exclusion of the possessory desire. If it desires its own existence and happiness, which we suppose to be a trait essential to every rational and accountable creature, it seems to follow, as a matter of course, that it will desire those attributes and gifts which are conducive to the preservation and perfection of such existence and happiness. What sin can there possibly be in desiring to expand the range of that existence, which in itself is such an invaluable good, provided it be done with a suitable regard to the relations and the claims of all other beings! So far from being a sin, it is, and must be, a duty. If it be not so, what shall be said of those passages of the Apostle Paul, not to mention other parts of Scripture of a similar import, where he directs the Corinthians not only to "covet to prophesy," but in general terms, "to covet earnestly the best gifts;" 1 Cor. xii., 31; xiv., 39.

§ 332. Of perversions of the possessory desire.

Although the propensity in question is susceptible, by possibility at least, of a virtuous exercise, there is too much reason to believe that its ordinary action is a perverted and vicious one. It is a great law of the mind, that the repetition of the exercise of the active principles increases their strength; and as the occasions of the exercise of the possessory principle are very numerous, it is the almost unavoidable result that it becomes inordinately strong. When this is the case, the otherwise innocent desire of possession assumes the form of the sin of Covetousness; a term which is universally understood to express an eagerness and intensity of acquisition that presses upon the domain of some other active principles, and is

at variance with some of the claims of duty. This is undoubtedly one of the great sins which attach to human nature; too prevalent, it is to be feared, in the heart of every individual; and which receives in all parts of the Scriptures a decided and solemn rebuke.

When the possessory principle becomes, by further repetition, increased in the intensity of its action, it assumes the still more aggravated and guilty form of Avarice. In this form it not only loses that character of innocence which it originally possessed, but becomes exceedingly loathsome and abhorrent in the unperverted eye of moral purity.

333. Of the desire of power.

Another of the original propensities is the desire of Power. In regard to POWER, it is hardly necessary to say, that it is not an object directly addressed to, or cognizable by, the senses; but it is an attribute of mind, and is made known to us by an act of the Internal intellect; that is to say, of the intellect operating independently of a direct connexion with the senses. We do not see power as we see and extended object; nor do we touch it, nor is it an object of the taste or smell; but it is revealed to the mind by an act of Original Suggestion, on the occasions appropriate to that species of mental action. But, although it is not cognizable by the senses, it is as much a reality, as much an object of emotion and desire, as if that were the case. It stands out as distinctly perceptible to the mind's eye, as an extended and coloured body does to the bodily eye. This being the case, we may, with entire propriety of language, speak of the desire of power; for wherever there is an object, that object may, in possibility at least, be desired; but where there is no object before the mind, it is not possible for desire to exist.

These remarks are preparatory to what we have now to say, viz., that the desire of power is natural to the human mind; in other words, that the desire of power is an original principle of the mind. In support of this view, which may perhaps fail at first sight to commend itself to the reception of the reader, the first remark we have to make is, that power in its own nature is a thing

G G

desirable. It cannot be doubted that power is in fact, and is to be regarded as, an essential attribute of all mental being. Accordingly, if an intellectual and sentient existence is desirable, then power is desirable also, as being necessarily involved in such existence. The desire of existence, by common acknowledgment, is natural to us; the desire of happiness is natural also; and since there can be neither the one nor the other without power, it seems reasonable to think that the desire of power is essential to, and is implanted in, our nature.

There are various circumstances, obvious to every one's notice, which go to confirm this view of the subject. "The infant," says Mr. Stewart, "while still on the breast, delights in exerting its little strength on every object it meets with, and is mortified when any accident convinces it of its own imbecility. The pastimes of the boy are, almost without exception, such as suggest to him the idea of power. When he throws a stone or shoots an arrow, he is pleased with being able to produce an effect at a distance from himself; and while he measures with his eye the amplitude or range of his missile weapon, contemplates with satisfaction the extent to which his power has reached. It is on a similar principle that he loves to bring his strength into comparison with that of his fellows, and to enjoy the consciousness of superior prowess."

334. Of the moral character of the desire of power.

If it be true that the desire of power is connatural to the human mind, it will probably be found, like other analogous principles, to possess a twofold action, INSTINCTIVE and VOLUNTARY. So far as its action is instinctive, we may suppose it to be innocent at least, and probably useful. So far as it is voluntary, the virtue or vice which attaches to it will depend upon its regulation. If it be kept in subordination to the dictates of an enlightened conscience, and to the feelings and duties we owe to the Supreme Being, its exercise is virtuous. If, on the contrary, it acquires inordinate strength, as it is very likely to do, and is excessive in its operation, pushing us forward to the pursuit of forbidden objects and the invasion of other's rights, it then becomes vicious.