Comma for either/or — dharma, courage. Spelling forgiving — corage finds courage.

    The Philosophy of the Moral Feelings

    Part I

    John Abercrombie

    OF THE DESIRES, THE AFFECTIONS, AND SELF-LOVE.

    SECT. I.

    THE DESIRES.

    Desire is the immediate movement or act of the mind towards an object which presents some quality on account of which we wish to obtain it. The objects of desire, therefore, embrace all those attainments and gratifications, which mankind consider worthy of being sought after. The object pursued in each particular case, is determined by the views, habits, and moral dispositions of the individual. In this manner, one person may regard an object, as above every other worthy of being sought after, which to another appears insignificant or worthless. The principles which regulate these diversities, and consequently form one of the great differences in human character, belong to a subsequent part of our inquiry.

    In forming a classification of the desires, we must be guided simply by the nature of the various objects which are desired. Those which may be specified as the most prevalent, and the most clearly to be distinguished as separate, may be referred to the following heads.

    I. The gratification of the animal propensities,--commonly called the appetites. These, which we possess in common with the lower animals, are implanted in us for important purposes; but they require to be kept under the most rigid control, both of reason and of the moral principle. When they are allowed to break through these restraints, and become leading principles of action, they form a character the lowest in the scale, whether intellectual or moral; and it is impossible to contemplate a more degraded condition of a rational and moral being. The consequences to society are also of the most baneful nature. Without alluding to the glutton or to the drunkard, what accumulated guilt, degradation, and wretchedness follow the course of the libertine,--blasting whatever comes within the reach of his influence, and extending a demoralizing power alike to him who inflicts and to those who suffer the wrong. Thus is constituted a class of evils, of which no human law can take any adequate cognizance, and which therefore raise our views, in a special and peculiar manner, to a supreme Moral Governor.

    II. The Desire of Wealth, commonly called Avarice;--though avarice is perhaps justly to be regarded as the morbid excess or abuse of the propensity. This is properly to be considered as originating in the desire to possess the means of procuring other gratifications. But, by the influence of habit, the desire is transferred to the thing itself, and it often becomes a kind of mania, in which there is the pure love of gain, without the application of it to any other kind of enjoyment. It is a propensity which may, in a remarkable manner, engross the whole character, acquiring strength by continuance, and it is then generally accompanied by a contracted selfishness, which considers nothing as mean or unworthy that can be made to contribute to the ruling passion. This may be the case even when the propensity is regulated by the rules of justice;--if it break through this restraint, it leads to fraud, extortion, deceit, and injustice,--and, under another form, to theft or robbery. It is therefore always in danger of being opposed to the exercise of the benevolent affections, leading a man to live for himself, and to study only the means calculated to promote his own interest.

    III. The Desire of Power, or Ambition. This is the love of ruling,--or giving the law to a circle whether more or less extensive. When it becomes the governing propensity, the strongest principles of human nature give way before it,--even those of personal comfort and safety. This we see in the conqueror, who braves every danger, difficulty, and privation, for the attainment of power; and in the statesman, who sacrifices for it every personal advantage, perhaps health and peace. The principle, however, assumes another form, which, according to its direction, may aim at a higher object. Such is the desire of exercising power over the minds of men; of persuading a multitude, by arguments or eloquence, to deeds of usefulness; of pleading the cause of the oppressed;--a power of influencing the opinions of others, and of guiding them into sound sentiments and virtuous conduct. This is a species of power, the most gratifying by far to an exalted and virtuous mind, and one calculated to carry benefit to others wherever it is exerted.

    IV. The Desire of Superiority, or Emulation. This is allied to the former, except that it does not include any direct wish to rule, but aims simply at the acquirement of pre-eminence. It is a propensity of extensive influence, and not easily confined within the bounds of correct principle. It is apt to lead to undue means for the accomplishment of its object; and every real or imagined failure tends to excite hatred and envy. Hence it requires the most careful regulation and, when much encouraged in the young, is not free from the danger of generating malignant passions. Its influence and tendency, as in other desires, depend in a great measure on the objects to which it is directed. It may be seen in the man who seeks to excel his associates in the gaiety of his apparel, the splendour of his equipage, or the luxury of his table. It is found in him whose proud distinction is to be the most fearless rider at a steeple-chase or a fox-hunt,--or to perform some other exploit, the only claim of which to admiration consists in its never having been performed before. The same principle, directed to more worthy objects, may influence him who seeks to be distinguished in some high pursuit, calculated to confer a lasting benefit upon his country or on human kind.

    V. The Desire of Society. This has been considered by most writers on the subject as a prominent principle of human nature, shewing itself at all periods of life, and in all conditions of civilization. In persons shut up from intercourse with their fellow-men, it has manifested itself in the closest attachment to animals; as if the human mind could not exist without some object on which to exercise the feelings intended to bind man to his fellows. It is found in the union of men in civil society and social intercourse,--in the ties of friendship, and the still closer union of the domestic circle. It is necessary for the exercise of all the affections; and even our weaknesses require the presence of other men. There would be no enjoyment of rank or wealth, if there were none to admire;--and even the misanthrope requires the presence of another to whom his spleen may be uttered. The abuse of this principle leads to the contracted spirit of party.

    VI. The Desire of Esteem and Approbation. This is a principle of most extensive influence, and is in many instances the source of worthy and useful displays of human character. Though inferior to the high sense of moral obligation, it may yet be considered a laudable principle,--as when a man seeks the approbation of others by deeds of benevolence, public spirit, or patriotism,--by actions calculated to promote the advantage or the comfort either of communities or individuals. In the healthy exercise of it, a man desires the approbation of the good;--in the distorted use of it, he seeks merely the praise of a party, or perhaps, by deeds of a frivolous or even vicious character, aims at the applause of associates whose praise is worthless. According to the object to which it is directed, therefore, the desire of approbation may be the attribute either of a virtuous or a perverted mind. But it is a principle, which, in general, we expect to find operating in every well-regulated mind, under certain restrictions. Thus a man who is totally regardless of character,--that is, of the opinion of all others respecting his conduct, we commonly consider as a person lost to correct virtuous feeling. On the other hand, however, there may be instances in which it is the quality of a man of the greatest mind to pursue some course to which from adequate motives, he has devoted himself, regardless alike of the praise or the disapprobation of other men. The character in which the love of approbation is a ruling principle is therefore modified by the direction of it. To desire the approbation of the virtuous, leads to conduct of a corresponding kind, and to steadiness and consistency in such conduct. To seek the approbation of the vicious, leads, of course, to an opposite character. But there is a third modification, presenting a subject of some interest, in which the prevailing principle of the man is a general love of approbation, without any discrimination of the characters of those whose praise is sought, or of the value of the qualities on account of which he seeks it. This is vanity; and it produces a conduct wavering and inconsistent,--perpetually changing with the circumstances in which the individual is placed. It often leads him to aim at admiration for distinctions of a very trivial character,--or even for qualities which he does not really possess. It thus includes the love of flattery. Pride, on the other hand, as opposed to vanity, seems to consist in a man entertaining a high opinion of himself, while he is indifferent to the opinion of others;--thus we speak of a man who is too proud to be vain.

    Our regard to the opinion of others is the origin of our respect to character, in matters which do not come under the higher principle of morals; and is of extensive influence in promoting the harmonies, proprieties, and decencies of society. It is thus the foundation of good breeding, and leads to kindness and accommodation in little matters which do not belong to the class of duties. It is also the source of what we usually call decorum and propriety, which lead a man to conduct himself in a manner becoming his character and circumstances, in regard to things which do not involve any higher principle. For, apart entirely from any consideration either of morality or benevolence, there is a certain line of conduct which is unbecoming in all men; and there is conduct which is becoming in some, though it might not in other men,--and in some circumstances, though it might not be so in others. It is unnecessary to add, how much of a man's respectability in life often depends upon finding his way, with proper discrimination, through the relations of society which are amenable to this principle; or, by how many actions, which are not really wrong, a man may render himself despised and ridiculous. The love of esteem and approbation is also of extensive influence in the young,--both in the conduct of education and the cultivation of general character; and it is not liable to the objections, formerly referred to, which apply to the principle of Emulation. It leads also to those numerous expedients by which persons of various character seek for themselves notoriety or a name: or desire to leave a reputation behind them, when they are no more. This is the love of posthumous fame, a subject which has afforded an extensive theme both for the philosopher and the humorist.

    VII. The Desire of Knowledge, or of Intellectual Improvement,--including the principle of Curiosity. The tendency of this high principle must depend, as in the former cases, on its regulation, and the objects to which it is directed. These may vary from the idle tattle of the day, to the highest attainments in literature or science. The principle may be applied to pursuits of a frivolous or useless kind, and to such acquirements as lead only to pedantry or sophism;--or it may be directed to a desultory application, which leads to a superficial acquaintance with a variety of subjects, without a correct knowledge of any of them. On the other hand, the pursuit of knowledge may be allowed to interfere with important duties which we owe to others, in the particular situation in which we are placed. A well-regulated judgment conducts the propensity to worthy objects; and directs it in such a manner as to make it most useful to others. With such due regulation, the principle ought to be carefully cultivated in the young. It is closely connected with that activity of mind which seeks for knowledge on every subject that comes within its reach, and which is ever on the watch to make its knowledge more correct and more extensive.

    VIII. The Desire of Moral Improvement. This leads to the highest state of man: and it bears this peculiar character, that it is adapted to men in every scale of society, and tends to diffuse a beneficial influence around the circle with which the individual is connected. The desire of power may exist in many, but its gratification is limited to a few:--he who fails may become a discontented misanthrope; and he who succeeds may be a scourge to his species. The desire of superiority or of praise may be misdirected in the same manner, leading to insolent triumph on the one hand, and envy on the other. Even the thirst for knowledge may be abused, and many are placed in circumstances in which it cannot be gratified. But the desire of moral improvement commends itself to every class of society, and its object is attainable by all. In proportion to its intensity and its steadiness, it tends to make the possessor both a happier and a better man, and to render him the instrument of diffusing happiness and usefulness to all who come within the reach of his influence. If he be in a superior station, these results will be felt more extensively; if he be in a humble sphere, they may be more limited; but their nature is the same, and their tendency is equally to elevate the character of man. This mental condition consists, as we shall afterwards have occasion to shew more particularly, in a habitual recognition of the supreme authority of conscience over the whole intellectual and moral system, and in a habitual effort to have every desire and every affection regulated by the moral principle, and by a sense of the divine will. It leads to a uniformity of character which can never flow from any lower source, and to a conduct distinguished by the anxious discharge of every duty, and the practice of the most active benevolence.

    The Emotions which have been now briefly mentioned seem to include the more important of those which pertain to the class of Desires. There is, however, another principle which ought to be mentioned as a leading peculiarity of human nature, though it may be somewhat difficult to determine the class to which it belongs. This is the Desire of Action,--the restless activity of mind, which leads it to require some object on which its powers must be exercised, and without which it preys upon itself and becomes miserable. On this principle we are to explain several facts which are of frequent observation. A person accustomed to a life of activity longs for ease and retirement, and, when he has accomplished his purpose, finds himself wretched. The frivolous engagements of the unoccupied are referable to the same principle. They arise, not from any interest which such occupations really possess, but simply from the desire of mental excitement,--the felicity of having something to do. The pleasure of relaxation, indeed, is known to those only who have regular and interesting employment. Continued relaxation soon becomes a weariness; and, on this ground, we may safely assert, that the greatest degree of real enjoyment belongs, not to the luxurious man of wealth, or the listless votary of fashion, but to the middle classes of society, who, along with the comforts of life, have constant and important occupation. Apart, indeed, from actual suffering, I believe there is nothing in the external circumstances of individuals, of greater or more habitual importance for promoting personal happiness, than stated, rational, and interesting employment.

    The mental condition which we call Desire appears to lie in a great measure at the foundation of character;--and, for a sound moral condition, it is required that the desires be directed to worthy objects,--and that the degree or strength of them be accommodated to the true and relative value of each of these objects. If the desires are thus directed, worthy conduct will be likely to follow in a steady and uniform manner. If they are allowed to break from the restraints of reason, and the moral principle, the man is left at the mercy of unhallowed passion, and is liable to those irregularities which naturally result from such a derangement of the moral feelings. If, indeed, we would see the evils produced by desire, when not thus controlled, we have only to look at the whole history of human kind. What accumulated miseries arise from the want of due regulation of the animal propensities, in the various forms in which it degrades the character of rational and moral beings.--What evils spring from the love of money, and from the desire of power;--from the contests of rivals, and the tumults of party,--what envy, hatred, malignity, and revenge.--What complicated wretchedness follows the train of ambition,--contempt of human suffering, countries depopulated, and fields deluged with blood. Such are the results of desire, when not directed to objects worthy of a moral being, and not kept under the rigid control of conscience, and the immutable laws of moral rectitude. When, in any of these forms, a sensual or selfish propensity is allowed to pass the due boundary which is fixed for it by reason and the moral principle, the mental harmony is destroyed, and even the judgment itself comes to be impaired and distorted in that highest of all inquiries, the search after moral truth.

    The desires, indeed, may exist in an ill-regulated state, while the conduct is yet restrained by various principles, such as submission to human laws, a regard to character, or even a certain feeling of what is morally right, contending with the vitiated principle within. But this cannot be considered as the healthy condition of a moral being. It is only when the desire itself is sound, that we can say the man is in moral health. "He who grieves at his abstinence," says Aristotle, "is a voluptuary;"--and this also is the great principle so often and so strikingly enforced in the sacred writings; "Keep thy heart with all diligence, because out of it are the issues of life." "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Thus, there are desires which are folly, and there are desires which are vice, even though they should not be followed by indulgence; and there are desires which tend to purify and elevate the moral nature, though their objects should be beyond the reach of our full attainment in the present state of being. Perfect moral purity is not the lot of man in this transient state, and is not to be attained by his own unaided efforts. But, subservient to it is that warfare within, that earnest and habitual desire after the perfection of a moral being, which is felt to be the great object of life, when it is viewed in relation to the life which is to come. For this attainment, however, man must feel his total inadequacy,--and the utmost efforts of human reason have failed in unfolding the requisite aid. The conviction is thus forced upon us, that a higher influence is necessary, and this influence is fully disclosed by the light of revealed truth. We are there taught to look for a power from on high, capable of effecting what human efforts cannot accomplish,--the purification of the heart.

    Sect. II.

    The Affections.

    As the desires are calculated to bring some gratification to ourselves, the Affections lead us to our relations to other men, and to a certain line of conduct which arises out of these relations. They are to be viewed as original principles of our nature, planted in us for wise purposes, and the operation of them is to be considered as distinct, both from that of the moral principle and of reason,--that is, from any sense of duty or the moral rectitude of the conduct to which they lead, and from any calculation of its propriety and utility. Thus, when the mother devotes her attention by day and night to her infant, if from sickness or helplessness in want of her special care, and perseveres in doing so, with total disregard to her own ease, health, or comfort, she is not influenced either by a sense of duty, or by any feeling of the utility of her conduct: she acts upon an impulse within, which she feels to be a part of her constitution, and which carries her forward in a particular course of anxious and protracted exertion by the power of itself alone. This distinction appears to be of the utmost practical importance, and we shall have occasion to refer to it more particularly in the sequel.

    An Affection, therefore, maybe considered as an original feeling or emotion existing in ourselves, which leads us to a particular conduct towards other men, without reference to any principle except the intuitive impulse of the emotion itself. The Affections have been divided into the Benevolent and Malevolent; but these titles appear to be incorrect, especially the latter,--as the due exercise of the emotions to which it refers does not properly include what is called malevolence. They only tend to guard us against certain conduct in other men; and, when they are allowed to go beyond this, that is, to actual malevolence or revenge, the application is morbid. It will therefore accord better with the nature of these emotions, to give them the names of Uniting, and Defensive Affections;--the former including justice, benevolence, veracity, friendship, love, gratitude, patriotism, and the domestic affections;--the latter, jealousy, disapprobation, and anger.

    I. JUSTICE.

    There may be some difference of opinion in regard to the propriety of including justice among the affections; but it seems to be more nearly allied to them than to any of the other classes of moral emotions which have been mentioned, and it may, therefore, as a mere matter of arrangement, be conveniently introduced here. Strictly speaking, it might perhaps be considered as a combined operation of an affection and the moral principle; but this is matter of speculation alone. The important consideration relating to it is,--that, in whatever manner it arises, the sense of Justice is a primary and essential part of our moral constitution, conveying the distinct impression of certain conduct which a man owes to his fellow-men, without regard to any considerations of a personal nature, and apart from all positive enactments or laws, either divine or human. The requirements of Justice embrace certain points in which every man has an absolute right, and in regard to which it is the absolute duty of every other man not to interfere with him. These rights have usually been divided into three classes;--what I have a right to possess, and no man has any right to take from me,--what I have a right to do, and no man has any title to prevent me from doing,--what I have a right to expect from other men, and it is their absolute duty to perform. These principles form the basis of what is called Natural Jurisprudence, a code of relative duty deriving its authority from impressions which are found in the moral feelings of all mankind, without regard to the enactments of any particular civil society. In the actual arrangements of civil communities, these great principles of justice are combined with others which are derived merely from utility or expediency, as calculated to promote the peace or the advantage of the community. These may differ in different countries, and they cease to be binding when the enactments on which they rest are abrogated or changed. But no difference of place can alter, and no laws can destroy, the essential requirements of justice.

    In these observations, it will be remarked, the word Justice is used as expressing a principle of individual character; and it is in this sense that it is to be properly classed with the affections. The term is employed in another sense, namely, that of distributive and corrective justice, which regulates the claims of individuals in a community, requires restitution or compensation for any deviation from such claims, or punishes those who have violated them. It is in the former sense that justice is properly to be considered as a branch of the philosophy of the moral feelings; but the same general principles apply to both.

    The sense of Justice, therefore, consists in a feeling experienced by every man, of a certain line of conduct which he owes to other men in given circumstances; and this seems to be referable to the following heads,--attending to their interest,--not interfering with their freedom of action,--preserving their reputation,--estimating their character and motives,--judging of their opinions,--consulting their feelings,--and preserving or improving their moral condition. As a guide for his conduct in particular instances, a man has usually a distinct impression of what he thinks due by other men towards himself; justice requires that he rigidly extend to others the same feelings and conduct which, in similar circumstances, he expects from them.

    (1.) Justice is due to the persons, property, and interest of others. This constitutes Integrity or Honesty. It, of course, implies abstaining from every kind of injury, and preserving a conscientious regard to their rights. In this last respect, it allows us to exercise a prudent attention to our own interest, provided the means be fair and honourable, and that we carefully abstain from injuring others by the measures we employ for this purpose. The great rule for our guidance, in all such cases, is found in the immutable principles of moral rectitude; the test of our conduct in regard to individual instances is, that it be such as, were our own interest concerned, we should think fair and honourable in other men.

    (2.) Justice requires us not to interfere with the freedom of action of others. This constitutes personal liberty;--but in all civil communities the right is liable to certain restrictions;--as when a man uses his freedom of action to the danger or injury of other men. The principles of justice may also recognise a man's surrendering, to a certain extent, his personal liberty, by mutual and voluntary compact, as in the case of servants, apprentices, soldiers, &c.; but they are opposed to slavery, in which the individual concerned is not a party to the arrangement.

    (3.) Justice enjoins a regard to the reputation of others. This consists in avoiding every thing that could be injurious to their good name, either by direct evil speaking, or such insinuations as might give rise to suspicion or prejudice against them. It must extend also to the counteracting of such insinuations, when we hear them made by others, especially in circumstances in which the individual injured has no opportunity of defending himself. It includes, farther, that we do not deny to others, even to rivals, any praise or credit which is justly due to them. There is, however, one modification, equally consistent with justice, to which the former of these rules is liable; namely, that, in certain cases, we may be required to make a statement prejudicial to an individual, when duty to a third party or to the public makes it incumbent on us to do so. In such a case, a person guided by the rules of justice will go no farther than is actually required by the circumstances; and will at all times beware of propagating a report injurious to another, though he should know it to be strictly true, unless he is called upon by special duty to communicate it.

    (4.) Justice requires us not only to avoid injuring an individual in the estimation of other men, but to exercise the same fairness in forming our own opinion of his character, without being misled or biased by passion or prejudice. This consists in estimating his conduct and motives with calmness and impartiality; in regard to particular instances, making full allowance for the circumstances in which he was placed, and the feelings by which he was, or might be, at the time, naturally influenced. When an action admits of being referred to different motives, justice consists in taking the more favourable view, if we can do so with strict regard to truth, instead of harshly and hastily assigning a motive which is unworthy. Such justice in regard to character and motives we require to exercise with peculiar care, when the conduct referred to has been in any way opposed to our own self-love. In these cases we must be especially on our guard against the influence of the selfish principle, which might lead to partial and distorted views of actions and motives, less favourable to others, and more favourable to ourselves, than justice warrants. When viewed in this manner, we may often perceive, that conduct, which gave rise to emotions of displeasure as injurious to us, was fully warranted by some conduct on our own part, or was required by some higher duty which the individual owed to another.

    (5.) Justice is to be exercised in judging of the opinions and statements of others. This constitutes Candour. It consists in giving a fair and deliberate hearing to opinions, statements, and arguments, and weighing fairly and honestly their tendency. It is, therefore, opposed to prejudice, blind attachment to preconceived opinions, and that narrow disputatious spirit which delights in captious criticism, and will hear nothing with calmness that is opposed to its own views; which distorts or misrepresents the sentiments of its opponents, ascribing them to unworthy motives, or deducing from them conclusions which they do not warrant. Candour, accordingly, may be considered as a compound of justice and the love of truth. It leads us to give due attention to the opinions and statements of others,--in all cases to be chiefly solicitous to discover truth, and, in statements of a mixed character, containing perhaps much error and fallacy, anxiously to discover and separate what is true. It has accordingly been remarked, that a turn for acute disputation, and minute and rigid criticism, is often the characteristic of a contracted and prejudiced mind; and that the most enlarged understandings are always the most indulgent to the statements of others,--their leading object being to discover truth.

    (6.) Justice is due to the feelings of others; and this applies to many circumstances which do not affect either their interest or their reputation. Without injuring them in any of these respects, or in our own good opinion, we may behave to them in such a manner as to wound their feelings. There are minds of an extreme delicacy, which, in this respect, are peculiarly sensitive;--towards these a person of correct feelings strives to conduct himself with suitable tenderness. We may find, however, persons of honest and upright minds, who would shrink from the least approach to real injury, but yet neglect the necessary attention to the feelings; and may even confer a real benefit in such a manner as to wound the individual to whom they intended kindness. The lower degrees of this principle pertain to what is called mere good breeding, which has been defined "benevolence in trifles;" but the higher degrees may restrain from conduct which, without any real injury, inflicts permanent pain. To this head we may perhaps also refer a due regard to the estimate which we lead a man to form of himself. This is opposed to flattery on the one hand, and on the other to any unnecessary depreciation of his character. Flattery indeed is also to be considered as a violation of veracity.

    (7.) While, upon the principles which have been referred to, we abstain from injuring the interests, the reputation, or the feelings of others, there is another class of injuries, of still higher magnitude, which the conscientious mind will avoid with peculiar anxiety, namely, injuries done to the moral principles of other men. These form a class of offences of which no human law takes any adequate cognizance, but we know that they possess a character of the deepest malignity. Deep guilt attaches to the man who, by persuasion or ridicule, has unhinged the moral feelings of another, or has been the means of leading him astray from the paths of virtue. Of equal, or even greater malignity, is the aspect of the writer, whose works have contributed to violate the principles of truth and rectitude,--to pollute the imagination, or corrupt the heart. Inferior offenders are promptly seized by public authority, and suffer the award of public justice; but the destroyer of the moral being often walks securely through his own scene of moral discipline, as if no power could reach the measure of his guilt but the hand of the Eternal.

    To the same head we are to assign the extensive and important influence of example. There are few men who have not in this respect some power, but it belongs more particularly to persons in situations of rank and public eminence. It is matter of deep regret, both to the friend of virtue and the friend of his country, when any of these are found manifesting disregard to sacred things, or giving an air of fashion to what is calculated to corrupt the moral principles of the unthinking classes of society. If they are restrained by no higher motive, the feelings of patriotism, and even of personal safety, ought to produce a solemn caution; and it becomes them seriously to consider, whether they may not thus be sowing among the ignorant multitude the seeds of tumult, revolution, and anarchy.

    II. COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE.

    Great diversity exists in the condition of different individuals in the present state,--some being in circumstances of ease, wealth, and comfort,--others of pain, deprivation, and sorrow. Such diversities we must consider as an arrangement established by the great Disposer of all things, and calculated to promote important purposes in his moral government. Many of these purposes are entirely beyond the reach of our faculties; but, as holding a prominent place among them, we may safely reckon the cultivation of our moral feelings, especially the affections of compassion and benevolence. The due exercise of these is, therefore, calculated to promote a double object, namely, the alleviation of distress in others,--and the cultivation in ourselves of a mental condition peculiarly adapted to a state of moral discipline. By bringing us into contact with individuals in various forms and degrees of suffering, they tend continually to remind us, that the present scene is but the infancy of our existence,--that the beings whom we thus contemplate are the children of the same Almighty Father with ourselves, inheriting the same nature, possessed of the same feelings, and soon to enter upon another state of existence, when all the distinctions which are to be found in this world shall cease for ever. They tend thus to withdraw us from the power of self-love, and the deluding influence of present things; and habitually to raise our views to that future life, for which the present is intended to prepare us. The due cultivation of the benevolent affections, therefore, is not properly to be considered as the object of moral approbation, but rather as a process of moral culture. They may enable us in some degree to benefit others, but their chief benefit is to ourselves. By neglecting them, we both incur much guilt, and deprive ourselves of an important mean of improvement. The diligent exercise of them, besides being a source of moral advantage, is accompanied with a degree of mental enjoyment which carries with it its own reward. Such appears to be the correct view which we ought to take of the arrangement established by the Creator in this part of our constitution. It is calculated to correct a misconception of an important kind, which considers the exercise of the benevolent affections as possessing a character of merit. To this subject we shall have occasion to refer more particularly in the sequel.

    The exercise of the benevolent affections may be briefly treated of, under nearly the same heads as those referred to when considering the principle of Justice;--keeping in mind that they lead to greater exertion for the benefit of others, and thus often demand a greater sacrifice of self love, than is included under the mere requirements of justice. On the other hand, benevolence is not to be exercised at the expense of Justice; as would be the case, if a man were found relieving distress by such expedients as involve the necessity of withholding the payment of just debts, or imply the neglect or infringement of some duty which he owes to another.

    (1.) Compassion and benevolent exertion are due towards alleviating the distresses of others. This exercise of them, in many instances, calls for a decided sacrifice of personal interest, and, in others, for considerable personal exertion. We feel our way to the proper measure of these sacrifices, by the high principle of moral duty, along with that mental exercise which places us in the situation of others, and, by a kind of reflected self-love, judges of the conduct due by us to them in our respective circumstances.--The details of this subject would lead us into a field too extensive for our present purpose. Pecuniary aid, by those who have the means, is the most easy form in which benevolence can be gratified, and that which often requires the least, if any, sacrifice of personal comfort or self-love. The same affection maybe exercised in a degree much higher in itself, and often much more useful to others, by personal exertion and personal kindness. The former, compared with the means of the individual, may present a mere mockery of mercy; while the latter, even in the lowest walks of life, often exhibit the brightest displays of active usefulness that can adorn the human character. This high and pure benevolence not only is dispensed with willingness, when occasions present themselves; but seeks out opportunities for itself, and feels in want of its natural and healthy exercise when deprived of an object on which it may be bestowed.

    (2.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the reputation of others. This consists not only in avoiding any injury to their characters, but in exertions to protect them against the injustice of others,--to correct misrepresentations,--to check the course of slander, and to obviate the efforts of those who would poison the confidence of friends, or disturb the harmony of society.

    (3.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the character and conduct of others; especially when these have been in opposition to our personal interest or self-love. This consists in viewing their conduct with indulgence and forbearance, assigning the most favourable motives,--and making every allowance for their feelings, and the circumstances in which they were placed. It leads us also to avoid all suspicions and jealousies which are not clearly justified by fact; and to abstain to the utmost from taking offence,--by putting upon the conduct of others the best construction of which it will possibly admit. It extends still farther to the actual forgiveness of injuries, and the repaying of evil with good,--a conduct represented in the sacred writings as one of the highest attainments the human character can reach, in so far as regards its relation to other men.

    (4.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the feelings of others; and this applies to many situations in which neither their interest nor their character is concerned. It includes those exercises of the kindly affections which produce so powerful an influence in all the relations of life, but which it is impossible for any description to delineate. It comprehends all our social and civil connexions, but seems peculiarly to belong to our intercourse with inferiors and dependents. Its most anxious exercise may often relate merely to trifles, but it extends to innumerable circumstances in which we may surrender our own feelings to those of others, and our own convenience or gratification to theirs. It implies solicitude to avoid wounding the feelings by pride, selfishness, or fretfulness,--by suspicions, imputations, and jealousies,--or by allowing insignificant things to ruffle the temper and derange the social comfort. Many, who are not deficient in what we usually call deeds of benevolence, are too apt to forget, that a most important exercise of true benevolence consists in the habitual cultivation of courtesy, gentleness, and kindness; and that on these dispositions often depends our influence upon the comfort and happiness of others, in a greater degree than on any deeds of actual beneficence.--To this department, also, we may refer the high character of the peace-maker, whose delight it is to allay angry feelings, even when he is in no degree personally interested, and to bring together as friends and brethren, those who have assumed the attitude of hatred and revenge.

    (5.) Benevolence is to be exercised in regard to the moral degradation of others, including their ignorance and vice. This prevents us from deriving satisfaction from moral evil, even though it should contribute to our advantage, as might often happen from the misconduct of rivals or enemies. It implies also that highest species of usefulness which aims at raising the moral condition of man,--by instructing the ignorant, rescuing the unwary, and reclaiming the vicious. This exalted benevolence will therefore also seek to extend the light of divine truth to nations that sit in moral darkness; and looks anxiously for the period when the knowledge of Christianity shall dispel every false faith, and put an end to the horrors of superstition.

    III. Veracity.

    In our mental impressions relating to veracity, we have a striking illustration of the manner in which we rely on this class of moral feelings, as instinctive in the constitution of the mind. On a certain confidence in the veracity of mankind is founded so much of the knowledge on which we constantly depend, that, without it, the whole system of human things would go into confusion. It relates to all the intelligence which we derive from any other source than our own personal observation:--for example, to all that we receive through the historian, the traveller, the naturalist, or the astronomer. Even in regard to the most common events of a single day, we often proceed on a confidence in the veracity of a great variety of individuals. There is, indeed, a natural tendency to truth in all men, unless where this principle is overcome by some strong selfish purpose to be answered by departing from it:--and there is an equally strong tendency to rely on the veracity of others, until we have learnt certain cautions by our actual experience of mankind. Hence children and inexperienced persons are easily imposed upon by unfounded statements:--and the most practised liar confides in the credulity of those whom he attempts to deceive. Deception, indeed, would never accomplish its purpose, if it were not from the impression that men generally speak truth. It is obvious also, that the mutual confidence which men have in each other, both in regard to veracity of statement, and to sincerity of intention respecting engagements, is that which keeps together the whole of civil society. In the transactions of commerce it is indispensable, and without it all the relations of civil life would go into disorder. When treating of the intellectual powers in another work, I considered the principles which regulate our confidence in human testimony; and it is unnecessary to recur to them in this place. Our present object is briefly to analyze the elements which are essential to veracity, when we view it as a moral emotion, or a branch of individual character. These appear to be three,--correctness in ascertaining facts,--accuracy in relating them,--and truth of purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of promises.

    (1.) An important element of veracity is correctness in ascertaining facts. This is essential to the Love of Truth. It requires us to exercise the most anxious care respecting every statement which we receive as true; and not to receive it as such, until we are satisfied that the authority on which it is asserted is of a nature on which we can fully rely, and that the statement contains all the facts to which our attention ought to be directed. It consequently guards us against those limited views, by which party spirit or a love of favourite dogmas leads a man to receive the facts which favour a particular opinion, and neglect those which are opposed to it. The sound exercise of judgment, which is connected with this love of truth, differs therefore from the art of ingenious disputation, and is often found directly at variance with it. The same principle is applicable to the truths which are derived as deductions from processes of reasoning. It is thus opposed to all sophistical arguments, and partial or distorted reasonings, by which disputants strive to establish particular systems, instead of engaging in an honest and simple inquiry after truth. The love of truth, therefore, is of equal importance in the reception of facts, and in the formation of opinions; and it includes also a readiness to relinquish our own opinions, when new facts or arguments are presented to us which are calculated to overturn them. The practice of this sincere and candid search after truth, on every subject to which the mind may be directed, ought to be cultivated in early life with the most assiduous care. It is a habit of the mind which must exercise a most important influence in the culture both of moral and intellectual character.

    In the reception of truth, especially on the evidence of testimony, we acquire by experience a degree of caution, arising from having been sometimes deceived. In minds of a certain description, this may be allowed to produce a suspicion with regard to all evidence,--in other words, Scepticism. The want of the necessary and proper caution, again, leads to Credulity. It is the part of a well-regulated mind to avoid both these extremes, by attentively weighing the evidence and the character of the witnesses, and giving to each circumstance its due influence in the conclusion.

    (2.) Closely connected with the love of truth in receiving, is the exercise of veracity in the statement of facts, whether derived from our personal observation or received by testimony from others. It consists not only in the most scrupulous accuracy of relation, but also in giving it in such a manner as to convey a correct impression to the hearer. It is consequently opposed to all those methods by which either a false statement may be made to assume the appearance of truth, or one essentially true may be so related as to convey a false impression.

    Direct fallacy may consist in the alleged facts being absolutely false, or in some of them being so,--in facts being wanting or kept out of view which would give a different import to the whole statement,--or in some of the facts being disguised, distorted, or coloured, so as to alter materially the impression conveyed by them. But, besides such actual fallacy, there are various methods by which a statement literally true may be so related as to convey an erroneous impression. Facts may be connected together in such a manner as to give the appearance of a relation of cause and effect, when they are in truth entirely unconnected;--or an event may be represented as common which has occurred only in one or two instances. The character of an individual may be assumed from a single act, which, if the truth were known, might be seen to be opposed to his real disposition, and accounted for by the circumstances in which he happened at the time to be placed. Events may be connected together, which were entirely disjoined, and conclusions deduced from this fictitious connexion, which are of course unfounded. Several of these sources of fallacy may be illustrated by a ludicrous example. A traveller from the continent has represented the venality of the British House of Commons to be such, that, whenever the minister of the Crown enters the house, there is a general cry for "places." It may be true that a cry of "places" has gone round the house at certain times, when business was about to commence, or to be resumed after an interval,--meaning, of course, that members were to take their seats. It is very probable, that, on some occasion, this may have occurred at the moment when the minister entered,--so that the statement of the traveller might, in point of fact, be strictly true. The erroneous impression which he endeavours to convey by it, arises from three sources of fallacy, which the anecdote will serve to illustrate, namely,--the false meaning he gives to the word employed,--connecting it with the entrance of the minister as cause and effect,--and representing the connexion as uniform which happened to occur in that particular instance. In the same manner it will appear, that a false impression may be conveyed respecting the conduct of an individual,--by assigning motives which are entirely imaginary,--by connecting things together which have no relation,--by keeping out of view circumstances which would afford an explanation or palliation of his conduct,--or by attaching to his words a different meaning from that which he intended to convey by them. The common saying, that there are two ways of telling a story, does not therefore refer to what is strictly to be called fabrication or falsehood; but to those distortions or colourings of circumstances, which, however slight in themselves, have the effect of essentially changing the impression made by the whole.

    To veracity, under this department, we are also to refer the rule,--of giving to others an honest and fair impression of our views, motives, and intentions. This is Sincerity. It is opposed to hypocrisy, that unworthy display of human character, in which a man disguises his real sentiments, and, on the contrary, professes principles which he neither feels nor values, merely for the purpose of promoting his selfish interests. Such a character exhibits a singular combination of moral delinquencies. It is founded on the lowest selfishness, and includes a departure from veracity and honesty. But besides, it implies a knowledge of virtuous principles, and of their proper tendencies, while there is a practical denial of their influence. Sincerity is also opposed to flattery, which tends to give a man a false impression of our opinion, and of our feelings towards him, and likewise leads him to form a false estimate of his own character. It is opposed also to simulation or double dealing, by which a man, for certain purposes professes sentiments towards another which he does not feel, or intentions which he does not entertain.

    (3.) The third element of veracity is Truth of Purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of promises. This is opposed to actual departure from what was distinctly promised; likewise to all those evasions by which one may convey an impression, or excite the hope of an intention which he does not mean to fulfil,--or avoid the performance of a real or implied engagement on any other ground than inability to perform it. By this straight-forward integrity of purpose, an individual gives a clear impression of what he honestly intends to perform; and performs it, though circumstances may have occurred to make the fulfilment disagreeable or even injurious to himself:--"he sweareth to his own hurt," says a sacred writer, "and changeth not."

    IV. FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND GRATITUDE.

    These affections are so nearly allied, that, in this slight analysis, they may be taken together. They consist in a personal and peculiar attachment to an individual, founded either upon some qualities in himself, or some benefits he has conferred on us, or on some one in whom we are interested. The feelings and conduct to which they give rise correspond with those referred to under the preceding affections, with this difference, that, in many instances, they lead to a much greater sacrifice of personal interest and comfort, than usually proceeds either from justice or simple benevolence. The exertions arising out of them are directed, according to the division formerly given, to promoting the interest or comfort of the object of our regard,--preserving, defending, or advancing his reputation,--treating his feelings with peculiar tenderness,--and his failings with peculiar indulgence,--receiving his opinions with peculiar favour,--and anxiously endeavouring to improve his intellectual and moral condition. This last consideration is justly reckoned the highest office of friendship;--it is to be regretted that its operation is sometimes impeded by another feeling, which leads us to be blind to the failings and deficiencies of those whom we love.--In exercising simple love and friendship, we rejoice in the advantage and happiness of the object, though they should be accomplished by others,--but, in exercising gratitude, we are not satisfied unless they be effected in some measure by ourselves.

    V. PATRIOTISM.

    Patriotism is, perhaps, not properly to be considered as a distinct principle of our nature; but rather as a result of a combination of the other affections. It leads us, by every means in our power, to promote the peace and the prosperity of our country,--and to discourage, to the utmost of our ability, whatever tends to the contrary. Every member of the community has something in his power in this respect. He may set an example, in his own person, of dutiful and loyal respect to the first authority, of strict obedience to the laws, and respectful submission to the institutions of his country. He may oppose the attempts of factious individuals to sow among the ignorant the seeds of discontent, tumult, or discord. He may oppose and repress attempts to injure the revenue of the state; may aid in the preservation of public tranquillity, and in the execution of public justice. Finally, he may zealously exert himself in increasing the knowledge and improving the moral habits of the people,--two of the most important means by which the conscientious man, in any rank of life, may aid in conferring a high and permanent benefit on his country.

    VI. THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS.

    In this extensive and interesting class are included, conjugal affection,--the parental feelings,--filial reverence,--and the ties of brothers and sisters.--These call forth, in a still higher degree, the feelings and exertions already referred to, and a still greater sacrifice of personal ease, advantage, and comfort, in the anxious and diligent discharge of the duties resulting from them. In the conjugal relation, they lead us to the tenderness, the confidence, the mutual forbearance, the united exertions of those, who have one hope, one interest, and one course of duty. The parental relation implies the highest possible degree of that feeling which studies the advantage of the object of our care,--the promotion of his happiness,--the improvement of his mind,--the culture of his affections,--the formation of his habits; the anxious watching over the development of his character, both as an intellectual and a moral being. The filial relation requires, in an equal degree, respect, affection, submission, and confidence,--a deference to parental opinion and control; and an impression that those parts of parental management, which may often be disagreeable, are guided by a sincere desire to promote the highest interests of the object of this affectionate regard.

    Among the feelings of our nature "which have less of earth in them than heaven," are those which bind together the domestic circle in the various sympathies, affections, and duties, which belong to this class of tender relations. It is beautiful also to observe, how these affections arise out of each other, and how the right exercise of them tends to their mutual cultivation.--The father ought to consider the son as, of all earthly concerns, the highest object of his anxious care;--and should watch over the development of his intellectual character, and the culture of his moral feelings. In the zealous prosecution of this great purpose, he should study to convey a clear impression, that he is influenced purely by a feeling of solemn responsibility, and an anxious desire to promote the highest interests. When parental watchfulness is thus mingled with confidence and kindness, the son will naturally learn to estimate alike the conduct itself, and the principles from which it sprung, and will look to the faithful parent as his safest guide and counsellor, and most valued earthly friend. If we extend the same principles to the relation between the mother and the daughter, they apply with equal or even greater force. In the arrangements of society, these are thrown more constantly into each other's company; and that watchful superintendence may be still more habitually exercised, which, along with the great concern of cultivating the intellectual and moral being, neglects not those graces and delicacies which belong peculiarly to the female character. It is not by direct instruction alone, that, in such a domestic circle, the highest principles and best feelings of our nature are cultivated in the minds of the young. It is by the actual exhibition of the principles themselves, and a uniform recognition of their supreme importance;--it is by a parental conduct, steadily manifesting the conviction, that, with every proper attention to the acquirements, the accomplishments, and the comforts of life, the chief concern of moral beings relates to the life which is to come. A domestic society, bound together by these principles, can retire, as it were, from the haunts of men, and retreat within a sanctuary where the storms of the world cannot enter.--When thus met together in the interchange of mutual affection and mutual confidence, they present the anticipation of that period, when, after the tumults of life are over, they shall meet again, "no wanderer lost, a family in heaven".

    THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS.

    The feelings of jealousy, anger, and resentment, are, not less than the other affections, to be considered as part of our moral constitution; and they are calculated to answer important purposes, provided they are kept under the strict control of reason and the moral principle. Their proper object is primarily a sense of blameable conduct in others; and they lead us to use proper measures for protecting ourselves against such conduct. While we thus disapprove of the character and conduct of men in certain circumstances, we are led, by our feelings of justice and benevolence, to take part with the injured and oppressed against the oppressors,--or to protect those who are threatened with injuries, by measures for defeating the schemes of their enemies. A still more refined exercise of this class of feelings leads us to seek the reformation of the offender, and to convert him from an enemy into a friend.

    Resentment, in cases which concern the public peace, naturally leads to the infliction of punishment; the object of which is to prevent similar conduct in others, not to gratify personal vengeance. Hence it is required to be done in a public manner,--with proper deliberation and coolness,--and with an exact adaptation of the penalty to the offence, and to the object to be attained. The person injured is not likely to do this with the requisite impartiality and candour; for we are apt to feel too deeply injuries offered to ourselves, and not to make the propel allowance for the feelings of others, and the circumstances which led to the offence. The higher degrees, indeed, of these tendencies usually go together,--they, who are most susceptible of offences, and most irritable under them, being generally least inclined to make allowances for others. Hence, in all cases, our disapprobation of personal vengeance, or of a man taking the law into his own hands; and our perfect sympathy with the protectors of the public peace, when they dispassionately investigate a case of injury, and calmly adapt their measures to the real object to be attained by them,--the protection of the community.

    The defensive affections are exercised in an unwarranted manner, when they are allowed to be excited by trifling causes; when they are, in degree, disproportioned to the offence, or prolonged in a manner which it did not require; and when they lead, in any measure, to retaliation or revenge. The sound exercise of them, therefore, is opposed to that irascibility which takes fire on trivial occasions, or without due consideration of the intentions of the agent, or the circumstances in which he was placed,--to a disposition to resentment on occasions which do not warrant it,--and, on all occasions, to harbouring the feeling after the offence and all its consequences have passed over.

    Before concluding the subject of the affections, there are three points respecting them which remain to be mentioned as briefly as possible,--the influence of Attention, combined with a certain act of Imagination,--the influence of Habit,--and the estimate of the feeling of Moral Approbation which the exercise of the affections is calculated to produce.

    I. In every exercise of the affections, a most important influence is produced by Attention, aided by a certain act of imagination. This consists of directing the mind intensely and habitually to all the considerations which ought to guide us in the particular relation to which the affection refers. It leads us to place ourselves in the situation of others, and, with a kind of personal, or almost selfish interest, to enter into their wants, their anxieties, and their feelings; and thus, in their place, to judge of the emotions and the conduct which are due from us to them. Such is the exercise of one who wishes to follow the great rule of doing to others as he would that they should do to him. He is not satisfied with the merely decent discharge of the duties which arise from the affections, but studies intensely the requirements which attach to his particular situation,--searches out the individuals, towards whom they ought to be exercised, and enters into their condition and their feelings with minute and tender interest. Many who shew no want of friendly and benevolent affection, when an individual case is strongly brought before them, are deficient in the kind of exercise which would lead them, in this manner, to find their way to that correct exercise of the affections which really belongs to a scene of moral discipline. Such an exercise is adapted to every situation in life, and tends to guard a man, in his various relations, against the hindrances which indolence, self-love, and pure inattention are apt to bring in the way of his peculiar duties,--and of his discharging them with due regard to the feelings of others.

    This mental exercise, of extensive application to the benevolent affections, constitutes what is usually called Sympathy. It is composed of an act of Imagination and Self-love, by which we transfer ourselves, as it were, into the situation of other men, and thereby regulate our conduct towards them. It is however to be kept in mind, that the principle of self-love, thus brought into action, is the test, not the rule of our conduct. This is a point on which there has been much vague and useless speculation; and from not attending to the distinction, some have referred our ideas of benevolence entirely to the principle of selfishness. Such discussions are equally unsound and unprofitable, and are to be placed on a footing with the speculations of the scholastic philosophy, which we now look back upon merely as matters of historical curiosity. The application of self-love, in the manner which has been referred to, is chiefly useful in enabling us fully to appreciate the facts of the individual case, as we would do if we were personally interested. The rule of our conduct is quite distinct from this, and rests on those fundamental principles of justice and compassion which form a part of our moral constitution. In the practical application of them, they are very much aided by the moral principle or conscience.

    The man, who acts habitually under the influence of these rules, learns to question himself rigidly respecting the claims and duties which result from his moral relations; and the feelings and circumstances of those with whom they bring him into contact. What, (he asks himself) is the line of action which belongs to me in regard to that individual,--what are his feelings in his present situation,--what are the feelings and conduct which he expects from me,--and what are those which I would expect from him were I in his circumstances and he in mine? It is not a due regulation of the affections alone that arises from this wholesome state of mental discipline. It is a moral culture to the mind itself, which may often be fraught with the most important results. For the man who exercises it realizes to himself the feelings of poverty,--the agonies of bereavement, the impressions of the bed of death;--and thus, without the pain of suffering, he may reap a portion of those important moral benefits which suffering is calculated to yield.

    There is another view still to be taken of the advantages derived from that mental discipline which consists in attention to all the relations included under the affections. When habitually exercised, it may often bring before the mind important circumstances in our moral relations, which are apt to make an inadequate impression amid the distractions of present things. When the parent, for example, looks around the objects of his tender affection, what a new impulse is communicated by the thought, that the present life is but the infancy of their being; and that his chief and highest concern is to train them for immortality. A similar impulse must be given to the philanthropist, when he considers that the individuals, who share his benevolent attentions, are, like himself, passing through a scene of discipline to a higher state of existence, where they will assume a place corresponding to their rank in the scale of moral beings. The refined philanthropy thus arising, while it neglects no proper attention to the distresses of the present life, will seek chiefly to contend with those greater evils which degrade the moral nature, and sever the immortal spirit from its God. He, who judges upon this extended principle, will learn to form a new estimate of the condition of man. Amid the pride of wealth and the splendour of power, he may mourn over a being lost to every feeling of his high destiny; and, by the death-bed of the peasant, amid discomfort and suffering, he may contemplate with interest a purified spirit rising to immortality.

    II. Next to the power of attention, we have to notice the influence produced upon the affections by Habit. This is founded upon a principle of our nature, by which a remarkable relation exists between the affections and the actions which arise out of them. The tendency of all emotions is to become weaker by repetition, or to be less acutely felt the oftener they are experienced. The tendency of actions, again, as we have seen when treating of the Intellectual Powers, is to become easier by repetition,--so that those, which at first require close and continued attention, come to be performed without effort, and almost without consciousness. Now an affection properly consists of an emotion leading to an action; and the natural progress of the mind, in the proper exercise of the affection, is, that the emotion becomes less acutely felt, as the action becomes easier and more familiar.--Thus, a scene of wretchedness, or a tale of sorrow, will produce in the inexperienced an intensity of emotion not felt by him whose life has been devoted to deeds of mercy; and a superficial observer is apt to consider the condition of the latter as one of insensibility, produced by familiarity with scenes of distress. It is, on the contrary, that healthy and natural progress of the mind, in which the emotion is gradually diminished in force as it is followed by its proper actions,--that is, as the mere intensity of feeling is exchanged for the habit of active benevolence. But that this may take place in the sound and healthy manner, the emotion must be steadily followed by the action which belongs to it. If this be neglected, the harmony of the moral process is destroyed, and, as the emotion becomes weakened, it is succeeded by cold insensibility or barren selfishness.

    This is a subject of much importance,--and there are two conclusions which arise out of it respecting the cultivation of the benevolent affections. The one relates to the bad effects of fictitious scenes of sorrow, as represented on the stage, or in works of fancy. The evil arising from these appears to be that which has now been referred to;--the emotion is produced without the corresponding action, and the consequence is likely to be a cold and useless sentimentalism, instead of a sound cultivation of the benevolent affections.--The second is,--that, in cultivating the benevolent affections in the young, we should be careful to observe the process so clearly pointed out by the philosophy of the moral feelings. They should be familiarized with actual scenes of suffering, but this ought to be accompanied by deeds of minute and active kindness, so as to produce a full and lively impression of the wants and feelings of the sufferer. On this ground, also, I think we should at first even abstain, in a great measure, from giving young persons the cautions they will afterwards find so requisite, respecting the character of the objects of their benevolence, and the impositions so frequently practised by the poor. Suspicions of this kind might tend to interfere with the important moral process which ought to be our first object,--the necessary cautions will afterwards be learned with little difficulty.

    The best mode of contending with the evils of pauperism, on the principles of political economy, is a problem on which I presume not to enter. But, on the principles of moral science, a consideration of the utmost importance should never be forgotten,--the great end to be answered by the varieties of human condition in the cultivation of the benevolent affections. Political science passes its proper boundary when it is permitted in any degree to interfere with this high principle;--and, on the other hand, it is not to be denied, that this important purpose is in a great measure frustrated by many of those institutions, which cut off the direct intercourse of the prosperous and the wealthy with those whom providence has committed to them, in this scene of moral discipline, as the objects of their benevolent care.

    III. The third point, which remains to be briefly mentioned, is the feeling of moral approbation, or rather the impression of merit, which is frequently attached to the exercise of the affections. This important subject has been already referred to. When the mother, with total disregard to her health and comfort, devotes herself to watching over her child, she is not influenced by any sense of duty, nor do we attach to her conduct the feeling of moral approbation. She acts simply upon an impulse within, which she perceives to be a part of her constitution, and which carries her forward with unshrinking firmness in a particular course of laborious and anxious service. She may, indeed, be sensible that the violation of these feelings would expose her to the reprobation of her kind; but she does not imagine that the zealous fulfilment of them entitles her to any special praise. The same principle applies to all the affections. They are a part of our moral constitution, intended to bind men together by certain offices of justice, friendship, and compassion; and have been well named by a distinguished writer, "the voice of God within us." They serve a purpose in our moral economy, analogous to that which the appetites answer in our physical system. The appetite of hunger, for example, ensures a regular supply of nourishment, in a manner which could never have been provided for by any process of reasoning; though an exercise of reason is still applicable to preserving over it a certain regulation and control. In the same manner, the various feelings of our moral nature have each a defined purpose to answer, both in respect to our own mental economy and our relations to our fellow-men; and in the due exercise of them they ought to be controlled and regulated by the moral principle. The violation of these feelings, therefore, places man below the level of a moral being; but the performance of them does not entitle him to assume the claim of merit. He is merely bearing his part in a certain arrangement, from which he is himself to derive benefit, as a being holding a place in that system of things which these feelings are intended to keep together in harmony and order. In regard to the great principles of veracity and justice, every one perceives this to be true. In all mercantile transactions, for example, a character for high honour and integrity leads not only to respect, but to that confidence which is closely connected with prosperity.--These qualities, indeed, are as essential to a man's own interest as they are to his duty to other men; and if he does gain an advantage by fraud and deceit, it is only when he escapes detection;--that is, while he preserves the reputation of the very qualities which he has violated. But this truth applies equally to the affections more strictly benevolent. The man who lives in the habitual exercise of a cold and barren selfishness, and seeks only his own gratification or interest, has indeed, in some sense, his punishment in the contempt and aversion with which he is viewed by his fellow-men. Much more than this, however, attaches to such a character;--he has violated the principles given him for his guidance in the social system;--he has fallen from his sound condition as a moral being; and incurs actual guilt in the eye of a righteous Governor, whose will the order of this lower world is intended to obey. But it by no means follows, that the man, who performs in a certain manner the relations of justice, friendship, and compassion, is thereby entitled to claim merit in the view of the Almighty Governor of the universe. He merely acts his part in the present system of moral economy, for which he has been adapted. He is so constituted as to derive satisfaction from the exercise of these affections; and, on the other hand, he receives an appropriate reward in the reciprocal exercise of similar affections by other men, and in the general harmony of society which results from them. An extensive culture of the affections, therefore, may go on without the recognition of the moral principle, or that state of mind which habitually feels the presence of the Deity, and desires to have the whole character in subjection to his will. We are not entitled to acknowledge the operation of that great principle, unless when the affections are exercised in circumstances which imply a strong and decided sacrifice of self-love to the authority of God. This appears to correspond with the distinction so strikingly stated in the sacred writings--"If ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?"--"I say unto you, love your enemies,--bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you."

    On this branch of the subject it is also to be observed, that there is a kind of compensating power among the affections themselves, by which, in the intercourse of men, they act as checks upon each other. Thus resentment acts as a check upon injustice; and the dread of exciting anger in others has probably an influence, in preserving the peace and harmonies of society, which we often ascribe to a higher principle. In regard to the affections more strictly benevolent, these are also influenced, in a similar manner, by the feeling of disapprobation which attends any remarkable departure from their requirements. When we keep in mind, along with this consideration, the manner in which all men are influenced, in one degree or another, by the love of approbation or regard to character, we perceive in the moral system a beautiful principle of compensation, tending to promote in it a certain degree of harmony. This is remarkably illustrated, for example, in the general feeling of disapprobation which is attached to ingratitude, and to violation of filial affection or parental duty, and even to any marked neglect of the common calls of humanity. Along with this we are also to keep in mind, that a man is universally considered as in the lowest state of human nature, who, in these respects, has become regardless of character,--that is, of the estimation with which his conduct is viewed by his fellow-men.

    In regard to both the affections and the desires, we are farther to remember that deep and extensive influence, upon the happiness of the individual himself, which results from a due regulation of these feelings;--the pure mental enjoyment of him whose affections are under sound regulation, and whose desires are habitually directed to those objects which are in the highest degree worthy of being sought after. This mental tranquillity is also represented to us, in a very striking manner, by the influence of those dispositions which we usually refer to the head of Temper. What a constant source of pure enjoyment is a meek and placid spirit, the desires of which are moderate and under due regulation,--which puts upon every thing the best construction it will admit of,--is slow to take offence,--seeks no distinction,--but views itself with humility, and others with candour, benevolence, and indulgence. Such a disposition makes the man happy in himself, and a source of happiness and peace to all around him. On the other hand, what an unceasing source of mental disquiet and turbulence is the opposite disposition,--jealous, envious, and censorious,--ready to take offence at trifles, and often to construe incidental occurrences into intended and premeditated insults,--prone to put unfavourable constructions upon the conduct of others, and thus continually to surround itself with imaginary enemies, and imaginary neglects and injuries. Such a temper is a continual torment to the individual himself, and the cause of disputes and jealousies among those with whom he is connected. We cannot fail, also, to perceive that the man of ill-regulated passions injures his own true interest and happiness, as much as he violates his duty to others, and that his course of life is often productive of degradation, disease, and wretchedness. In all this we see a beautiful example of the wise arrangements of the Creator, who, in the structure of our moral nature, has connected our own peace and happiness with a state of feeling calculated to promote the happiness and peace of all around us. We cannot be at a loss to conclude what a different scene the world would present, if such feelings were universally cultivated; and, on the other hand, we must observe how much of the actual misery that exists in the world arises from derangement of moral feeling, and the various consequences which result from it both to individuals and communities. We find also, by innumerable examples, the remarkable influence produced, by a due cultivation of these feelings, in alleviating, both in ourselves and others, the physical evils which are inseparable from the present state. It is farther to be remarked, as a fact worthy of the deepest attention, that the only distinct information conveyed to us in Scripture, respecting the happiness of the righteous in a future state, is,--that it will consist chiefly in a perfect knowledge of the divine character, and a conformity of the soul to the moral perfections of the Deity. "It doth not yet appear," says the sacred writer, "what we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."

    In concluding the whole subject of the affections, I have only farther to remark,--that the regulated state of the moral feelings, which has been the subject of the preceding observations, seems to correspond with the quality so emphatically described in the sacred writings under the name of Charity. It is there uniformly represented as the great test of the moral condition; and we find exposed, in the most striking manner, the worthlessness of all endowments which are not accompanied by this regulation of the whole character. We cannot, therefore, conclude this subject in a more appropriate manner, than by a passage in which, by a few most powerful expressions, a code of ethical science is laid before us with a clearness and a force, which put to nought all human composition:--"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth; but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophecy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face; now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three,--but the greatest of these is charity."

    SECT. III.

    SELF-LOVE.

    There has been some dispute respecting the term Self-love, both as to its general propriety, and as to the mental feelings which ought to be referred to it. There can be no doubt that there is, in our constitution, a principle or propensity which leads us to study our own interest, gratification, and comfort; and that, in many instances, it becomes the ruling principle of the character. It is in this sense that I use the term self-love, without entering into any discussion regarding the strict logical propriety of it. Like the other mental feelings, it is to be considered as part of our moral constitution, and calculated to answer important purposes, provided it be kept in its proper place, and do not encroach upon the duties and affections which we owe to other men. When thus regulated, it constitutes prudence, or a just regard to our own interest, safety, and happiness; when it becomes morbid in its exercise, it degenerates into selfishness.

    A sound and rational self-love ought to lead us to seek our own true happiness, and should prove a check upon those appetites and passions which interfere with this; for many of them, it must be allowed, may be not less adverse to our own real interest and comfort, than they are to our duty to other men. It should lead us, therefore, to avoid every thing, not only that is opposed to our interest, but that is calculated to impair our peace of mind, and that harmony of the moral feelings without which there can be no real happiness. This includes a due regulation of the desires, and a due exercise of the affections, as a moral condition which promotes our own welfare and comfort. Self-love, viewed in this manner, appears to be placed as a regulating principle among the other powers,--much inferior indeed to the great principle of conscience, so far as regards the moral condition of the individual,--but calculated to answer important purposes in promoting the harmonies of society. The impression, on which its influence rests, appears to be simply the comfort and satisfaction which arise to ourselves from a certain regulation of the desires, and a certain exercise of the affections, while feelings of an opposite kind follow a different conduct. These sources of satisfaction are manifold. We may reckon among them the pleasure attached to the exercise of the affections themselves, a feature of our moral constitution of the most interesting kind,--the true mental peace and enjoyment which spring from benevolence, friendship, meekness, forgiveness, and the whole train of the kindly feelings,--the gratitude of those who have experienced the effects of our kindness,--the respect and approbation of those whose esteem we feel to be valuable,--and the return of similar affections and good offices from other men. On the other hand, we have to keep in mind the mental agony and distraction which arise from jealousy, envy, hatred, and resentment,--the sense of shame and disgrace which follow a certain line of conduct,--and the distress which often arises purely from the contempt and disapprobation of our fellow-men. "Disgrace," says Butler, "is as much avoided as bodily pain;" we may safely say that it is much more avoided, and that it inflicts a suffering of a much more severe and permanent nature. It must likewise accord with the observation of every one, that among the circumstances, which most frequently injure our peace and impair our comfort, are those which ruffle the mind by mortifying our self-love. There is also a feeling of dissatisfaction and self-reproach which follows any neglect of a due exercise of the affections, and which, in a well regulated mind, disturbs the mental tranquillity fully as much as the disapprobation of other men. It is farther evident, that the man of ungoverned passions, and ill-regulated affections, impairs his own peace and happiness as much as he violates his duties to others,--for his course of life is productive, not only of degradation in the eyes of his fellow-men, but often of mental anguish, misery, disease, and premature death. There is not, perhaps, a state of more intense suffering, than when the depraved heart, disappointed of those gratifications to which it is enslaved, and shut up from the excitements by which it seeks to escape from the horrors of reflection, is thrown back upon itself to be its own tormentor. To run the risk of such consequences, for the gratification of a present appetite or passion, is clearly opposed to the dictates of a sound self-love, as has been distinctly shewn by Bishop Butler; and when in such a case, self-love prevails over an appetite or passion, we perceive it operating as a regulating principle in the moral system. It does so, indeed, merely by the impression, that a certain regulation of the moral feelings is conducive to our own true and present happiness; and thus shews a wonderful power of compensation among these feelings, referable entirely to this source. But it is quite distinct from the great principle of conscience, which directs us to a certain line of conduct on the pure and high principle of moral duty, apart from all considerations of a personal nature,--which leads a man to act upon nobler motives than those which result from the most refined self-love, and calls for the mortification of all personal feelings, when these interfere, in the smallest degree, with the requirements of duty. This distinction I conceive to be of the utmost practical importance; as it shews a principle of regulation among the moral feelings themselves, by which a certain exercise of the affections is carried on in a manner which contributes in a high degree to the harmonies of society, but which does not convey any impression of moral approbation or merit that can be applied to the agent.

    Self-love, then, leads us to consult our own feelings, and to seek directly our own interest and happiness. The affections lead us to allow for the feelings, and consider the advantage and comfort of other men; and a certain balance between these principles is essential to the healthy state of the moral being. It is seldom that the affections are likely to acquire an undue influence, but there is great danger of self-love degenerating into selfishness, which interferes with the duties we owe to others. We have formerly alluded to the means, referable to the due exercise of the affections, and even to a sound and rational self-love, by which this should be in part prevented. When these are not sufficient, the appeal is to conscience; or a distinct reference of individual cases is made to the great principle of moral rectitude. We find, accordingly, this principle called into action, when a man has become sensible of important defects in his moral habits. Thus, we may see a man, who has long given way to a peevish or irascible disposition, that is, to selfish acting upon his own feelings, without due regard to the feelings of others, setting himself to contend with this propensity upon the score of moral duty; while another, of a placid disposition, has no need of bringing the principle into action for such a purpose. In the same manner, a person who has indulged a cold contracted selfishness may, under the influence of the same great principle, perform deeds of benevolence and kindness. Thus we perceive that the moral principle or sense of duty, when it is made the regulating motive of action, is calculated to control self-love, and preserve the proper harmony between it and the exercise of the affections.

    When the principle of self-love becomes deranged in its exercise and objects, it leads to those habits by which a man seeks his own gratification, in a way which interferes with his duties to other men. This he may do by an undue pursuit of any of the desires,--whether avarice, ambition, love of eminence, or love of fame;--and the desire of knowledge itself may be so indulged as to assume the same character. Even deeds of benevolence and kindness may be performed on this principle,--as when a man, by such actions, seeks only the applause of the public, or the approbation of certain individuals from whom, it may be, he expects to derive advantage.--Hence the value we attach, in the exercise of all the affections, to what we call disinterested conduct,--to him who does good by stealth, or who performs acts of exalted justice, generosity, or forbearance, under circumstances which exclude every idea of a selfish motive,--or when self-interest and personal feeling are strongly and obviously opposed to them. Such conduct commands the cordial approbation of all classes of men; and it is striking to remark how, in the highest conception of such a character that fancy can delineate, we are met by the sublime morality of the sacred writings, impressed upon us by the purest of all motives, the imitation of Him who is the giver of all good;--"love your enemies,--bless them that curse you;--do good to them that hate you,--and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you;--that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust."--"If any man will be my disciple," says the same great author of Christianity,--"let him deny himself."