dency to rest, and surmount the vis inertia to which it is always inclined to yield; and it is the strong pas sions alone that prompt men to the execution of those heroic actions, and give birth to those sublime ideas, which command the admiration of ages.

"It is the strength of passion alone that can enable men to defy dangers, pain, and death.

"It is the passions, too, which, by keeping up a perpetual fermentation in our minds, fertilize the same ideas, which, in more phlegmatic temperaments, are barren, and resemble seed scattered on a rock.

"It is the passions which, having strongly fixed our attention on the object of our desire, lead us to view it under aspects unknown to other men; and which, consequently, prompt heroes to plan and execute those hardy enterprises which must always appear ridiculous to the multitude till the sagacity of their authors has been evinced by success.'

To this passage, which is, I think, just in the main, I have only to object, that, in consequence of the ambiguity of the word passion, it is apt to suggest an erroneous idea of the author's meaning. It is plain that he uses it to denote our active principles in general; and, in this sense, there can be no doubt that his doctrine is well founded; inasmuch as, without such principles as curiosity, the love of fame, ambition, avarice, or the love of mankind, our intellectual capacities would for ever remain sterile and useless. But it is not in this sense that the word passion is most commonly employed. In its ordinary acceptation it denotes those animal impulses which, although they may sometimes prompt to intellectual exertion, are certainly on the whole unfavorable to intellectual improvement. Helvetius himself has not always attended to this ambiguity of language; and hence may be traced many of the paradoxes and errors of his philosophy.

To these slight remarks it may not be useless to subjoin an observation of La Rochefoucauld, which is

* De l'Esprit, Discours III. Chap. vi.

equally refined and just; and which, in its practical tendency, calls the attention to a source of danger in a quarter where it is too seldom apprehended. "It is a mistake to believe that none but the violent passions, such as ambition and love, are able to triumph over the other active principles. Laziness, as languid as it is, often gets the mastery of them all; overrules all the designs and actions of life, and insensibly consumes. and destroys both passions and virtues." *

From the foregoing observations it appears, that, in accounting for the diversities of genius and of intellectual character among men, important lights may be derived from an examination of their active propensities. It is of more consequence for me, however, to remark at present the intimate relation which an analysis of these propensities bears to the theory of morals, and its practical connection with our opinions on the duties and the happiness of human life. Indeed, it is in this way alone that the light of nature enables us to form any reasonable conclusions concerning the ends and destination of our being, and the purposes for which we were sent into the world: Quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur. It forms, therefore, a necessary introduction to the science of ethics, or rather is the foundation on which that science may rest.

II. Object and Plan of the Work.] In prosecuting our inquiries into the Active and the Moral Powers of Man, I propose, first, to attempt a classification and analysis of the most important principles belonging to this part of our constitution; and, secondly, to treat of the various branches of our duty. Under the former of these heads, my principal aim will be to illustrate the essential distinction between those active principles which originate in man's rational nature, and those which urge him, by a blind and instinctive impulse, to their respective objects.

In general, it may be here remarked, that the word

* Sentences et Maximes, cclxvi.

↑ Persius, Sat. III. 1. 67.

action is properly applied to those exertions which are consequent on volition, whether the exertion be made on external objects, or be confined to our mental operations. Thus, we say the mind is active when engaged in study. In ordinary discourse, indeed, we are apt to confound together action and motion. As the operations in the minds of other men escape our notice, we can judge of their activity only from the sensible ef fects it produces; and hence we are led to apply the character of activity to those whose bodily activity is the most remarkable, and to distinguish mankind into two classes, the active and the speculative. In the present instance, the word active is used in its most extensive signification, as applicable to every voluntary exertion.

According to the definition now given of the word action, the primary sources of our activity are the circumstances in which the acts of the will originate. Of these there are some which make a part of our constitution, and which, on that account, are called active principles. Such are hunger, thirst, the appetite which unites the sexes, curiosity, ambition, pity, resentment. These active principles are also called powers of the will, because, by stimulating us in various ways to action, they afford exercise to our sense of duty and our other rational principles of action, and give occasion to our voluntary determinations as free agents.

III. Difficulty of the Study.] The study of this part of our constitution, although it may at first view seem to lie more open to our examination than the powers of the understanding, is attended with some difficulties. peculiar to itself. For this various reasons may be assigned; among which there are two that seem principally to claim our attention.

1. When we wish to examine the nature of any of our intellectual principles, we can at all times subject the faculty in question to the scrutiny of reflection; and can institute whatever experiments with respect to it may be necessary for ascertaining its general laws

It is characteristic of all our operations purely intellect ual to leave the mind cool and undisturbed, so that the exercise of the faculties concerned in them does not prevent us from an analytical investigation of their theory. The case is very different with our active powers, particularly with those which, from their violence and impetuosity, have the greatest influence on human happiness. When we are under the dominion of the power, or, in plainer language, when we are hurried by passion to the pursuit of a particular end, we feel no inclination to speculate concerning the mental phenomena. When the tumult subsides, and our curiosity is awakened concerning the past, the moment for observation and experiment is lost, and we are obliged to search for our facts in an imperfect recollection of what was viewed, even in the first instance, through the most troubled and deceitful of all media.

Something connected with this is the following remark of Mr. Hume:-"Moral philosophy has this peculiar disadvantage, which is not to be found in natural, that, in collecting its experiments, it cannot make them purposely, with premeditation, and after such a manner as to satisfy itself concerning every particular difficulty that may arise. When I am at a loss to know the effects of one body upon another in any situation, I need only put them in that situation, and observe what results from it. But should I endeavour to clear up, after the same manner, any doubts in moral philosophy, by placing myself in the same case with that which I consider, it is evident that this reflection and premeditation would so disturb the operation of my natural principles, as must render it impossible to form any just conclusion from the phenomenon. We must therefore glean up our experiments in this science from a cautious observation of human life, and take them as they appear in the common course of the world, by men's behaviour in company, in affairs, and in their pleasures." *

*Treatise of Human Nature, Vol. I., Introduction.

2. Another circumstance which adds much to vue difficulty of this branch of study is the great variety of our active principles, and the endless diversity of their combinations in the characters of men. The same action may proceed from very different, and even opposite, motives in the case of two individuals, and even in the same individual on different occasions; or an action which in one man proceeds from a single motive may, in another, proceed from a number of motives conspiring together and modifying each other's effects. The philosophers who have speculated on this subject have in general been misled by an excessive love of simplicity, and have attempted to explain the phenomena from the smallest possible number of data. looking the real complication of our active principles, they have sometimes fixed on a single one, (good or bad, according as they were disposed to think well or ill of human nature,) and have deduced from it a plausible explanation of all the varieties of human character and conduct.

Over

Our inquiries on this subject must be conducted in one of two ways, either by studying the characters of other men, or by studying our own. In the former way, we may undoubtedly collect many useful hints, and many facts to confirm or to limit our conclusions; but the conjectures we form concerning the motives of others are liable to so much uncertainty, that it is chiefly by attending to what passes in our own minds that we can reasonably hope to ascertain the general laws of our constitution as active and moral beings.

Even this plan of study, however, as I have already hinted, requires uncommon perseverance, and still more uncommon candor. The difficulty is great of attending to any of the operations of the mind; but this difficulty is much increased in those cases in which we are led by vanity or timidity to fancy that we have an interest in concealing the truth from our own knowledge.

Most men, perhaps, are disposed, in consequence of these and some other causes, to believe themselves bet