universal prosperity. Though England cannot be justified for first attacking India, yet it must be allowed that the British sway is on the whole a blessing to that country, for it tends to civilize the people, puts a stop to many horrid practices, and prevents wars between the native princes.15

Secondly, however destructive rebellion and foreign war may be, they are, from the nature of things, partial and occasional evils, as compared with ordinary crimes, were these not prevented by morals and legislation. It is seldom that rebellion offers sufficient chances of success to induce any one to run the great risk that attends it, and when there are fair chances of success, the probability is that there is some good reason for resistance. In like manner, the spirit of conquest is checked by fear of effectual opposition on the part not only of the country menaced, but also of its neighbours, who, thinking themselves endangered, may make common cause with the invaded, and drive the invaders back upon their own territory. Thus Napoleon, after having over-run Europe, was doomed to see France conquered in its turn, and the standards of the Allies planted in the streets of Paris. The risk then as well as the difficulty attending conquest and rebellion are too great to allow of either becoming a frequent occurrence. But if ordinary crimes against person and property were not prevented by moral sentiment and by law, they would be committed in all places and at all

15 The abominable society of the Thugs, for instance, was suppressed by the British Government.

times, for the temptation to them is perpetual and the perpetration easy. The only check to them is morality and law, whereas political offences are prevented by utter impossibility or the fear of effectual opposition.

Since, then, from the nature of the case, political offences and political aggression cannot be of very frequent occurrence, it is reasonable that moral sentiment should be most strongly directed against other crimes, which but for that sentiment would become frequent every where, and by this frequency would produce an amount of ill incomparably greater than the partial and passing evils of rebellion and war, terrible though they be. In short, the disposition evinced by the ordinary criminal is far more dangerous to society, and to private happiness, than that of the political agitator or the ambitious warrior; for were the first to become common, it would reduce mankind to solitude and barbarism, and if not branded with ignominy, it would become common. Therefore, here, the general sentiments of mankind are in perfect agreement with the most far-sighted views of utility. Wars and revolutions may be compared to earthquakes or eruptions, which overthrow in a day a flourishing city or bury it under heaps of cinders, but are rare and partial visitors; while vulgar crimes are like the common fevers of every country, which work more slowly, but incessantly spread their

ravages.

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CHAPTER V.

ON THE MOTIVES TO THE PRACTICE OF VIRTUE.

TH

HE only question that now remains to be discussed, in order to complete our system of Ethics, is, what are the motives to practice, which may be drawn from the foregoing theory of moral sentiment, and from the nature of virtue as here described.

If the above principles be correct, no doubt can be entertained whether it be for our interest to practise the self-regarding virtues; for unless they conduced to our real interest, they neither would, nor ought to, have been called virtues. A tendency to the ultimate good of the individual is one of their essential characters, and without it they would never have been approved, nor ought to have been approved by mankind. All virtue, as we have seen, supposes a sacrifice, but sacrifice without a compensation is contrary to reason; and, therefore, if the sacrifice be required by the moral sentiment of men in general, we may infer that it is followed by a due compensation, unless we maintain that men, in all countries, and in all ages, have on this point been irrational. So far as the self-regarding virtues are concerned, this general consideration might suffice; but at the same time, it may be more satisfactory to show how they affect our happiness.

Having already dwelt upon the particular good effects of prudence or discretion, temperance, fortitude, and courage, we shall not here dilate upon these, but shall observe only that they are sufficiently striking to warrant the encouraging maxim, that "conduct is fate." What we shall now consider, is rather the joint influence of all these qualities, as tending to produce that greatest of human blessings, a healthy state of mind, free from eating cares and anxieties, from groundless fears, from despondency and imaginary ailments, and, lastly, from satiety. What are all the gifts of fortune, all the advantages of station, all bodily perfections, or even intellectual endowments, to one whose mind is not prepared for enjoyment? and without the above virtues, how can it be so prepared? Though the exercise of those virtues were itself unaccompanied with pleasure, they would still be necessary to ward off pain, to nurse our natural sensibility to innumerable delights, and prevent it being blunted prematurely. Of the two great causes which tend to destroy our sensibility to enjoyment, anxiety and satiety, the one arises from want of prudence or want of courage, the other from want of temperance. The man who lives beyond his income, or he who addicts himself to gambling or other hazardous speculations, is kept in a state of anxiety from want of prudence; another, as the miser, is anxious in the midst of riches from want of courage; while a third, from over-indulgence, becomes insensible to pleasure. To persons such as these, even the happy valley of Abyssinia could have no charms, for their minds are too absorbed with

care, or too satiated by excess, to allow them to mark or feel the beauty that every where surrounds them.

It has often been said, but cannot be too often repeated, that there is no such source of enjoyment as an innocent, pure, and simple mind, ready to enter into every passing amusement, and to cull every flower, however humble, that may strew the path of life. How mistaken the notion that happiness consists in fuss, splendour, and noise, and in splendid rather than in cheap recreations! but how much greater is the delusion, that the transitory delirium of intemperance can compensate the loss of innocence and simplicity of mind, which are necessary to give relish to all natural enjoyments! Take, for instance, the pleasure to be derived from the contemplation of nature in all its various forms. Can we conceive any source of gratification more accessible, more permanent, more free from immediate pain or ultimate evil? Wherever men are brought together, whether for business or pleasure, there is always the possibility of something disagreeable, from the clashing of opinions or interests, the difference of tastes, the varieties of humour, or simply the contrast of position. Since inequality must always exist, there will always be inferiors who may feel disagreeably humbled in the presence of their superiors. But in the presence of nature, we are free from all these causes of annoyance, for she has neither opinions nor interests, tastes nor whims, pride nor affectation. She is indeed a loving mother, for she calls upon all her children to come and drain her treasures and be satisfied, treasures that contain no alloy, and require