association, has given to it his most interesting thoughts, that he at length values the sign irrespectively of the thing which it signifies. He now gives to money those regards which he originally gave to the power which money usually brings along with it. In a game of chance there is a transference of value the reverse of this. The penny or the sixpence at stake is as eagerly contended for as if it were a hundred pounds but in truth, the contest is not for the penny or the sixpence; it is for that victory, or that superiority over others of which the penny is the symbol or sign. This trifling piece of money assumes a value in the minds of those engaged, as its possession is the mark of superiority, and awakens the consciousness of power, while its loss seems to indicate inferiority in skill, and consequently in power, to those by whom it is obtained. The same remarks apply to whatever becomes the sign of superiority over our fellow-creatures. The wreath of laurel with which the victor was crowned at the Olympic games was in itself nothing; but regarded as the emblem of victory, and as conferred before the assembled Greeks, it possessed a value in the estimation of the competitors, which could not be surpassed by any of the gifts of rank or of fortune.

It is on the same principle of association that we are disposed so highly to value the houses, and equipage, and attire of the great. These have in our estimation been always connected with power; they are its constant appendages in an elevated rank of society, and it is not unnatural for us to transfer to them the feelings with which we regard the thing which they

signify. In consequence of this illusion, the condition of the great seems to us to be a state of happiness, bordering on perfection.

There can be no doubt that the love of liberty, in part, proceeds from the love of power; from the desire of being able to do whatever is agreeable to our own inclinations. Slavery, in any degree, is a re straint upon our power; and in this way it is a constant source of mortification to us, in the exercise of one of the strongest principles of our nature. Hence, one reason why it degrades the unfortunate being who is subject to it in his own estimation; and makes him painfully feel that he is lowered in the rank of thinking beings. And hence also it is, that the land of slavery is the land of all that is sordid and base in human nature; all friendly intercourse between the inferior and superior orders is unknown; and the mass of the people is treated with indignity and scorn. When the lower orders are thus considered as degraded by those whom they are sufficiently prone to respect, it cannot be doubted that they will imperceptibly view themselves in a somewhat similar light; and it is unnecessary to say, that the influence of even such a concep+ tion, must have a debasing tendency on the whole character: For,

Jove fix'd it certain, that whatever day

Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.

From sordid self shoot up no shining deeds,
None of those ancient lights, that gladden earth,
Give grace to being, and arouse the brave
To just ambition, virtue's quickening fire!
Life tedious grows, an idly bustling round,
Fill'd up with actions animal and mean,

A dull gazette! Th' impatient reader scorns
The poor historic page; till kindly comes
Oblivion, and redeems a people's shame.
Not so the times when emulation stung,
Greece shone in genius, science, and in arts,
And Rome in virtues dreadful to be told!

It is the remark of Rochefoucault, that "love is commonly succeeded by ambition, but ambition is hardly ever succeeded by love." It would seem to be one of the most powerful as well as one of the most permanent of all the passions that can influence the human heart. When once it has acquired the entire possession of the breast, it will admit neither a rival nor a successor. To those who have been accustomed to the possession, or even to the hope, of public admiration, all other pleasures sicken and decay.

It is the principle of ambition, which, in part, leads men to court the most imminent dangers; because his passing so fearlessly through such dangers elevates him above others, and makes him the object of general admiration. "Great dangers," says the Cardinal de Retz, "have their charms, because there is some glory to be got, even when we miscarry. But moderate dangers have nothing but what is horrible, because the loss of reputation always attends the want of success." It is on this principle that any distresses can be endured more easily than the scorn of mankind. Human virtue is superior to pain, to poverty, to danger, and to death; nor does it even require its utmost efforts to despise them. But to have misery exposed to insults and derision, to be led in triumph, to be set up for the hand of scorn to point at, is a situation in which its constancy is much more apt to fall.

Compared with the contempt of mankind, all other external evils are easily supported.

I have thus dwelt at considerable length on the desire of power, or the principle of ambition; partly, because it is one of the strongest of our instinctive principles of action, and partly, that I might by extended illustrations, shew its injurious effects when not regulated according to the laws of elevated virtue. This principle, like all our other principles of action, is very much changed from its original design by the corruption of human nature. It was intended by our Creator to aid our moral judgments, and to prompt us to the attainment of that which the purest heart would approve, and the acquisition of which would be conducive to the virtue and happiness of ourselves and others. But it is now often indulged to the disregard of the decisions of an enlightened conscience, to the neglect of the will of God, and the happiness of our neighbour.

SECTION V.-On the Desire of Superiority-The Desire of Activity, and the Desire of Happiness, or Self-Love.

The next of our desires is the desire of superiority, or emulation. This principle is sometimes classed by ethical writers with the affections; but it seems more properly to fall under the definition of our desires. It is, indeed, frequently accompanied with illwill towards our rivals; but it is the desire of superiority which is the active principle; and the malevolent affection is only a concomitant circumstance.-And, as

has been remarked, a malevolent affection is not even a necessary concomitant of the desire of superiority. It is possible, surely, to conceive, although the case may happen but rarely, that emulation may take place between men, who are united by the most cordial friendship; and without a single sentiment of ill-will disturbing their harmony.

When emulation is accompanied with malevolent affection, it assumes the name of envy. The distinction between these two principles of action is accurately stated by Dr. Butler." Emulation is merely the desire of superiority over others with whom we compare ourselves. To desire the attainment of this superiority, by the particular means of others being brought down below our own level, is the distinct notion of envy. From whence it is easy to see, that the real end which the natural passion, emulation, and which the unlawful one, envy, aims at, is exactly the same; and, consequently, that to do mischief is not the end of envy, but merely the means it makes use of attain its end!"

We can

The desire of superiority, as it appears to me, is only a modification of the desire of power. not, surely, have the superiority over others with whom we compare ourselves without possessing some degree of power over them. Superiority is nothing else but power; and the pleasure which arises from our consciousness of being superior to others, is the same in kind and in degree which arises from our conscious possession of power. Though, therefore, I have thought it proper in an enumeration of the desires to mention the desire of superiority separately,