fear must be raised, in order to give such objects their due magnitude in the imagination, and their due influence upon our conduct.

The dread of disgrace and of the civil magistrate, and the apprehension of future punishment, prevent many crimes, which bad men, without these restraints, would commit, and contribute greatly to the peace and good order of society.

There is no bad action which some passion may not prevent; nor is there any external good action, of which some passion may not be the main spring; and, it is very probable, that even the passions of men, upon the whole, do more good to society than hurt.

The ill that is done draws our attention more, and is imputed solely to human passions. The good may have better motives, and charity leads us to think that it has; but, as we see not the heart, it is impossible to determine what share men's passions may have in its production.

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The last observation is, that if we distinguish, in the effects of our passions, those which are altogether involuntary, and without the sphere of our power, from the effects which may be prevented by an exertion, perhaps a great exertion, of self-government; we shall find the first to be good and highly useful, and the last only to be bad.

Not to speak of the effects of moderate passions upon the health of the body, to which some agitation of this kind seems to be no less useful than storms and tempests to the salubrity of the air; every passion naturally draws our attention to its object, and interests us in it.

The mind of man is naturally desultory, and when it has no interesting object in view, roves from one to another, without fixing its attention upon any one. A transient and careless glance is all that we bestow upon

objects in which we take no concern. It requires a strong degree of curiosity, or some more important passion, to give us that interest in an object which is necessary to our giving attention to it. And, without attention, we can form no true and stable judgment of any object.

Take away the passions, and it is not easy to say how great a part of mankind would resemble those frivolous mortals, who never had a thought that engaged them in good earnest.

It is not mere judgment or intellectual ability that enables a man to excel in any art or science. He must have a love and admiration of it bordering upon enthusiasm, or a passionate desire of the fame, or of some other advantage to be got by that excellence. Without this, he would not undergo the labour and fatigue of his faculties, which it requires. So that, I think, we may with justice allow no small merit to the passions, even in the discoveries and improvements of the arts and sciences.

If the passions for fame and distinction were extinguished, it would be difficult to find men ready to undertake the cares and toils of government; and few per haps would make the exertions necessary to raise themselves above the ignoble vulgar.

The involuntary signs of the passions and dispositions of the mind, in the voice, features, and action, are a part of the human constitution which deserves admiration. The signification of those signs is known to all men by nature, and previous to all experience.

They are so many openings into the souls of our fellow men, by which their sentiments become visible to the eye. They are a natural language common to mankind, without which it would have been impossible to have invented any artificial language.

It is from the natural signs of the passions and dispositions of the mind, that the human form derives its

beauty; that painting, poetry, and music, derive their expression; that eloquence derives its greatest force, and conversation its greatest charm.

The passions, when kept within their proper bounds, give life and vigour to the whole man. Without them man would be a slug. We see what polish and animation the passion of love, when honourable and not unsuccessful, gives to both sexes.

The passion for military glory raises the brave commander in the day of battle, far above himself, making his countenance to shine, and his eyes to sparkle. The glory of old England warms the heart even of the British tar, and makes him despise every danger.

As to the bad effects of passion, it must be acknowledged that it often gives a strong impulse to what is bad, and what a man condemns himself for as soon as it is done. But he must be conscious that the impulse, though strong, was not irresistible, otherwise he could not condemn himself. [Note S.]

We allow that a sudden and violent passion, into which a man is surprised, alleviates a bad action; but if it was irresistible, it would not only alleviate, but totally exculpate, which it never does, either in the judgment of the man himself, or of others.

To sum up all, passion furnishes a very strong instance of the truth of the common maxim, that the corruption of the best things is worst.

CHAP. VII.

OF DISPOSITION.

By disposition, I mean a state of mind which, while it lasts, gives a tendency, or proneness, to be moved by certain animal principles, rather than by others; while, at another time, another state of mind, in the same person, may give the ascendant to other animal principles.

It was before observed, that it is a property of our appetites to be periodical, ceasing for a time, when sated by their objects, and returning regularly after certain periods.

Even those principles which are not periodical, have. their ebbs and flows occasionally, according to the present disposition of the mind.

Among some of the principles of action, there is a natural affinity, so that one of the tribe naturally disposes to those which are allied to it.

Such an affinity has been observed by many good authors to be among all the benevolent affections. The exercise of one benevolent affection gives a proneness to the exercise of others.

There is a certain placid and agreeable tone of mind which is common to them all, which seems to be the bond of that connection and affinity they have with one another.

The malevolent affections have also an affinity, and mutually dispose to each other, by means, perhaps, of that disagreeable feeling common to them all, which makes the mind sore and uneasy.

As far as we can trace the causes of the different dispositions of the mind, they seem to be in some cases owing to those associating powers of the principles of action, which have a natural affinity, and are prone to

keep company with one another; sometimes to accidents of good or bad fortune, and sometimes, no doubt, the state of the body may have influence upon the disposition of the mind.

At one time, the state of the mind, like a serene unclouded sky, shows every thing in the most agreeable light. Then a man is prone to benevolence, compassion, and every kind affection; unsuspicious, not easily provoked.

The poets have observed that men have their mollia tempora fandi, when they are averse from saying or doing a harsh thing; and artful men watch these occasions, and know how to improve them to promote their ends.

This disposition, I think, we commonly call good humour, of which, in the fair sex, Mr. Pope says,

Good humour only teaches charms to last,

Still makes new conquests, and maintains the past.

There is no disposition more comfortable to the person himself, or more agreeable to others, than good humour. It is to the mind, what good health is to the body, putting a man in the capacity of enjoying every thing that is agreeable in life, and of using every faculty without clog or impediment. It disposes to contentment with our lot, to benevolence to all men, to sympathy with the distressed.. It presents every object in the most favourable light, and disposes us to avoid giving or taking offence.

This happy disposition seems to be the natural fruit of a good conscience, and a firm belief that the world is under a wise and benevolent administration; and, when it springs from this root, it is an habitual sentiment of piety.

Good humour is likewise apt to be produced by happy success, or unexpected good fortune, joy and hope,