it prompts us to do services, or to say agreeable things to others, it is not from love of them, but purely for the sake of obtaining self-gratification.

Cautiousness is the next faculty, and is a sentiment instituted to protect self from danger, and has clearly a regard to individual safety as its primary object.

This terminates the list of feelings common to man with the lower animals, and which, as we have seen, are all selfish in their objects. They are given for the protection and advantage of our animal nature, and, when duly regulated, are highly useful, and also respectable, viewed with reference to that end; but they are sources of innumerable evils when allowed to usurp the ascendancy over the moral faculties, and to become the leading springs of our social intercourse. From the very circumstance of their being all selfish, their unlimited gratification is physically and morally impossible, and, as this circumstance attending them is of great practical importance, we shall elucidate it at some length.

The birth and lives of children depend upon circumstances over which unenlightened men have but a limited control; and hence an individual whose greatest happiness springs from the gratification of Philoprogenitiveness, is in constant danger of anguish and disappointment by the removal of its objects, or by their undutiful conduct and immoral behavior. Besides, Philoprogenitiveness, acting along with Self-esteem and Love of Approbation, would, in each parent, desire that his children should possess the highest rank, the greatest wealth, and be distinguished for the most splendid talents. Now the highest, the greatest, and the most splendid of any qualities necessarily imply the existence of inferior degrees, and are not attainable except by one or two. The animal faculties, therefore, must be restrained and limited in their desires by the human faculties, by the sentiments of Conscientiousness, Benevolence, Veneration, and Intellect, otherwise they will inevitably lead to disappointment. In like manner, Acquisitiveness desires wealth, and, as nature affords only a certain number of quarters of grain annually, a certain portion of cattle, of fruit, of flax, and other articles, from which food, clothing, and wealth are manufactured, and as this quantity, divided equally among all the members of the state, would afford but a moderate portion to each, it is self-evident that, if all desire to acquire and possess a large amount, ninety-nine out of the hundred must be disappointed. This disappointment, from the very constitution of nature, is inevitable to the greater number; and when individuals form schemes of aggrandisement, originating from desires communicated by the animal faculties alone, they would do well to keep this law of nature in view. When

we look around, we see how few make rich; how few succeed in accomplishing all their lofty anticipations for the advancement of their children; how few attain the summit of ambition, compared with the multitudes who fall short. All this arises, not from error and imperfection in the institutions of the Creator, but from blindness in men to their own nature, to the nature of external objects, and to the relations established between these; in short, blindness to the principles of the divine administration of the world.

This leads us to notice the moral sentiments which constitute the proper human faculties, and to point out their objects and relations.

Benevolence has no reference to self. It desires purely and diniterestedly the happiness of its objects; it loves for the sake of the person beloved; if he be well, and the sunbeams of prosperity shine warmly around him, it exults and delights in his felicity. It desires a diffusion of joy, and renders the feet swift and the arm strong in the cause of charity and love. Veneration also has no reference to self. It looks up with a pure and elevated emotion to the being to whom it is directed, whether God or our fellow men, and delights in the contemplation of their venerable and admirable qualities. It desires to find out excellence, and to dwell and feed upon it, and renders self lowly, humble and submissive. Hope spreads its gay wing in the boundless regions of futurity. It desires good, and expects it to come; its influence is soft, soothing and happy; but self is not its direct or particular object. Ideality delights in perfection from the pure pleasure of contemplating it. So far as it is concerned, the picture, the landscape, or the mansion, on which it abides with intensest rapture, will be as pleasing, although the property of another, as if all its own. It is a spring that is touched by the beautiful wherever it exists; and hence its means of enjoyment are as unbounded as the universe is extensive. Wonder or Marvellousness seeks the new and admirable, and is delighted with change; but there is no desire of appropriation to self in its longings. Conscientiousness stands in the midway between self and other individuals. It is the regulator of our animal feelings, and points out the limit which they must not pass. It desires to do to another as we would have another do to us, and thus is a guardian of the welfare of our fellow men, while it sanctions and supports our personal feelings within the bounds of a due moderation.

Intellect is universal in its application. It may become the handmaid of any of the faculties; it may devise a plan to murder or to bless, to steal or to bestow, to rear up or to destroy; but, as its proper use is to observe the different objects of creation, to mark their relations, and

direct the propensities and sentiments to their proper and legitimate enjoyments, it has a boundless sphere of activity, and, when properly applied, is a source of high and inexhaustible delight.

Keeping in view the great difference now pointed out between the animal and properly human faculties, the reader will perceive that three consequences follow from the constitution of these powers: First, the animal faculties in themselves are insatiable, and, from the constitution of the world, never can be satisfied, holding satisfaction to be the appeasing of their highest and last impulse of unregulated desire. Secondly, being inferior in their nature to the human faculties, their gratifications, when not approved of by the latter, leave a painful feeling of discontent and dissatisfaction in the mind, occasioned by the secret disclaimation of their excessive action by the higher feelings. Thirdly, the higher feelings have a boundless scope for gratification; their least indulgence is delightful, and their highest activity is bliss; they cause no repentance, leave no void, but render life a scene at once of peaceful tranquility and sustained felicity; and what is of much importance, conduct proceeding from their dictates carries in its train the highest gratification to the animal propensities themselves of which the latter are susceptible.

We have already adverted to examples of the impossibility of attaining unlimited gratification of the animal propensities; boundless wealth and prosperity cannot physically be attained by all; offspring unlimited in in number and in virtues cannot be the lot of all; the gratification of a boundless ambition cannot be accomplished by all, and the destruction of all whom we hate would be a fearful visitation, if those who hated us had the same scope of gratification to their destructiveness in the subversion of ourselves. In short, we need not enlarge on this topic; for the proposition is so plain, that it can scarcely be doubted or misunderstood.

The second proposition is, that the animal faculties being inferior in their nature, a painful dissatisfaction arises in the mind when they become the leading motives of our habitual conduct, this uneasiness being occasioned by the want of gratification felt by the moral sentiments. Suppose, for example, a young person to set out in life with the idea that the great object of existence is to acquire wealth, to rear and provide for a family, and to attain honor and distinction among men; all these desires spring from the propensities alone. Imagine him then to rise early and sit up late, and to put forth all the energies of a powerful mind in transacting the business of the counting-house, in buying and selling, and making rich, and suppose that he is successful; it is obvious that, in prompting to this course of action, Benevolence, Veneration, and Conscientiousness, had no share, and that, in pursuing it, they have not

received direct and intended gratification; they have stood anxiously and wearily watching the animal faculties, longing for the hour when they were to say enough, their whole occupation, in the mean time, being to restrain them from such gross extravagancies as would have defeated their own ends. In the domestic circle again, a spouse and children would gratify Philoprogenitiveness and Adhesiveness, and their advancement would please Self-esteem and Love of Approbation; but here also the moral sentiments would act the part of mere spectators and sentinels to impose restraints; they would receive no direct enjoyment, and would not be recognised as the fountain of the conduct. In the pursuit of honor, suppose an office of dignity and power, or high rank in society, the mainsprings of exertion would still be Self-esteem and Love of Approbation, and the moral sentiments would still be compelled to wait in weary vacancy, without having their energies directly called into play, so as to give them full scope in their legitimate sphere. Suppose, then, this individual to have reached the evening of life, and to look back on the pleasures and pains of his past existence, he must! feel that there has been vanity and vexation of spirit—a want of satisfy ing portion; and for this very good reason, that the highest of his faculties have been all along standing idly by, unsatisfied and scarcely half employed. In estimating, also, the real affection and esteem of mankind which he has gained, he will find it to be small or in exact proportion to the degree in which he has manifested in his habitual conduct the lower or the higher faculties. If society has seen himself in his pursuit of wealth, selfish in his domestic affections, selfish in his ambition; although he may have gratified all these feelings without encroachment on the rights of others, they will feel no glow of affection towards him, no elevated respect, no sincere admiration, and he will see and feel this, and complain bitterly that all is vanity and vexation of spirit; but the fault has been his own; love, esteem, and sincere respect, arise, by the Creator's laws, not from contemplating the manifestations of plodding selfish faculties, but only from the display of Benevolence, Veneration. and Justice, as the motives and ends of our conduct; and the individual supposed has reaped the natural and legitimate produce of the soil which he cultivated, and eaten the fruit which he has reared.

The third proposition may now be illustrated. It is, that the arrangements of creation are framed on the principles of the higher sentiments, and that until these become the sources of our actions, it is impossible to attain to happiness, or even to enjoy fully the pleasures which the animal faculties are calculated to afford when employed in their proper sphere.

Imagine another individual to commence life in the thorough conviction that the higher sentiments are the superior powers, and that they ought to be the sources of his habitual actions, the first effect would be to cause him to look habitually outward on other men and on his Creator, instead of looking habitually inward on himself as the object of his highest and chief regard. Benevolence would shed on his mind this conviction, that there are other human beings all as dear to the Creator as he, as much entitled to enjoyment as he, and that his duty is to seek no gratification to himself which is to injure them; but on the contrary, to act so as to confer on them, by his daily exertions, all the services in his power. Veneration would add a strong feeling of reliance on the power and wisdom of God, that such conduct would conduce to the highest gratification of all his faculties, and it would add also an habitual respect for his fellow men, as beings deserving his regard, and to whose reasonable wishes he was bound to yield a willing and sincere obedience; and, lastly, Conscientiousness would prompt him to apply the scales of rigid justice to all his animal desires, and to curb and restrain each so as to prevent the slightest infraction on what is due to his fellow men.

Let us trace, then, the operation of these principles in ordinary life. Suppose a friendship formed by such an individual; his first and fundamental principle is Benevolence, which inspires with a sincere, pure and disinterested love of his friend; he desires his welfare for his friend's sake; next Veneration re-enforces this love by the secret and grateful acknowledgment which it makes to Heaven for the joys conferred upon the mind by this pure emotion, and, also, by the habitual deference which it inspires towards our friend himself, rendering us ready to yield where compliance is becoming, and curbing our selfish feelings when these would intrude by interested or arrogant pretensions on his enjoyments; and, thirdly, Conscientiousness, ever on the watch, proclaims the duty of making no unjust demands on the Benevolence of our friend, but of limiting our whole intercourse with him to an interchange of kindness, good offices, and reciprocal affection. Intellect, acting along with these principles, would point out, as an indispensable requisite to such an attachment, that the friend himself should be so far under the influence of the sentiments, as to be able, in some degree, to meet them; for, if he were immoral, selfish, vainly ambitious, or, in short, under the habitual influence of the propensities, the sentiments could not love and respect him as an object fitted to be taken to their bosom; they might pity and respect him as unfortunate, but love him they could not, because this is impossible by the very laws of their constitution.

Let us now attend to the degree in which such a friendship would VOL. III.-27.