integrity; for he will learn to separate the dross value upon that

from the ore, and to set a proper

praise which is obtained without desert, and bestowed without judgment. To watch over the public interests, to do every thing he can to promote its good by his talents, his wealth, and his virtue, is his constant aim. All other passions are here swallowed up. The love of ease and pleasure hang loosely about him, and even the tender affections which result from the relations of private life, together with life itself, are bravely sacrificed when put in competition with the rights and happiness of our country.

It

Another principle respecting the nature and government of the passions is, that the name of virtue is given to that state of mind which results from keeping all our passions, both public and private, in due subordination to each other, so that each passion may just perform its part and no more. must appear evident to those who rightly consider man's situation in the universe, that he could not long exist without paying some attention to the regulation of his passions. By attending to the gratification of those propensities which have for their object the present good or present pleasure of the individual; to be guided by and entirely under the

control of what immediately administers to the sensual feelings of our capricious appetites; to let revenge and resentment run riot for every trifling wrong done us; and to stifle the voice of pity, friendship, natural affection, and benevolence, would be a course entirely subversive of all society and good order, and ultimately destructive of even our own happiness and life. On the other hand, to pay exclusive attention to the public passions; to smother the tender and social feelings of the soul, and despise and trample upon all the duties and obligations which result from individual connexions; to forget all those things necessarily and immediately connected with our own dignity, worth, and importance,—is to act the part of the political fanatic, instead of the sober citizen; to bring ruin and confusion upon our country, instead of upholding its honour and greatness.

When any one passion, or class of passions, is too weak or too strong, we are led to pronounce that there must be some defect in the moral constitution of the individual. Where, for example, the fear of danger, and the compassion for others' distress, arise to such a height as to make us at all times so tremblingly alive, in the one case to our own safety, and in the other to every little portion of misery which

may arrest our attention, we shall never be able to achieve any thing of importance in the world, nor to pay that share of attention to those duties which a state of social life imposes upon us. Our happiness will also suffer in a proportionable degree with the over-excitement of these passions and affections. The idea of danger being always present to the mind, enervates it, and renders it unhappy and peevish; and as misery and unhappiness are to be found in all places and stations of life, no small part of the comfort of existence depends upon our having those affections which cause us to sympathize with the distresses of others, well tempered and duly regulated by reason and prudence. But on the other hand, we ought not to run into the opposite extreme, that of showing at all times an indifference and neglect to the evils which others endure, or to be insensible to personal dangers in the discharge of duties which call upon us to sacrifice a portion of our ease, comfort, and individual security. This would be to overact our part, to stretch our passions beyond the proper pitch and tenor. The one line of conduct leads us to act a cruel and unfeeling part towards our fellow-men; and the other to plunge us into serious and unnecessary dangers, and to bring upon our heads all the evils

of fool-hardiness, rashness, and obstinacy. "Upon the whole," as Lord Shaftesbury justly remarks, "it may be said properly to be the same with the affections or passions in an animal constitution, as with the cords or strings of a musical instrument. Of these, though in ever so just proportion one to another, one strained beyond a certain degree, it is more than the instrument will bear. The lute or lyre is abused, and its effect lost.

On the other

hand, if, while some of the strings are duly strained, others are not bound up to their due proportion, then is the instrument still in disorder, and its part ill performed. The several species of creatures are like different sorts of instruments; and even in the same species of creatures, (as in the same sort of instrument) one is not entirely like the other, nor will the same strings fit each. The same degree of strength which winds up one, and fits the several strings to a just harmony and concert, may, in another, burst both the strings and instrument itself. Thus men who have the liveliest sense, and are the easiest affected with pain or pleasure, have need of the strongest influence, or force of other affections, such as tenderness, love, sociableness, compassion, in order to preserve a right balance within, and to maintain them in their duty,

and in the just performance of their part; whilst others who are of a cooler blood, or lower key, need not the same alloy or counterpart, nor are made by nature to feel those tender and endearing affections in so exquisite a degree."

It is curious, and at the same time instructive, to observe the different counter-workings and opposite tendencies of the passions, and the wholesome effects which follow from this opposition. Pity, or the compassion we feel for the distresses of others, which we have just now noticed, how admirably is it calculated to arouse us from a state of indolence and sloth, and to make us set the love of pleasure, of ease, and even of life itself, at a comparatively trfling value. Anger and revenge, as we have already hinted, are not without their use, as they are calculated to prevent a weak and effeminate compassion, and to induce us to bear labour and pain with a becoming portion of firmness and patience. Passions of the same class often act and re-act upon one another, so as to neutralize their individual effects. Thus, the dread of immediate danger or pain operates as a check on revenge and resentment; whilst, on the contrary, fear itself

Characteristics, vol. ii. p. 95.