as the noblest and proudest boast of human ambition, to be able to entail on the casual combination of letters which compose our name, the respect of distant àges, and the blessings of generations yet unborn? Nor is it an unworthy object of the most rational benevolence to render these letters a sort of magical spell for kindling the emulation of the wise and good wherever they shall reach the human ear.

Nor is it only in this instance that nature has "thus outwitted us" for her own wise and salutary purposes. By a mode of reasoning analogous to that of Wollaston, it would be easy to turn most, if not all, our active principles into ridicule. But what should we gain by the attempt, but a ludicrous exposition of that moral constitution which it has pleased our Maker to give us, and which, the more we study it, will be found to abound the more with marks of wise and beneficent design?

It is fortunate, in such cases, that, although the reasonings of the metaphysician may puzzle the understanding, they produce very little effect on the conduct. He may tell us, for example, that the admiration of female beauty is absurd, because beauty, as well as color, is a quality not existing in the object, but in the mind. of the spectator; or, (which brings the case still nearer to that under our consideration) he may allege that the whole charm of the finest countenance would vanish if it were examined with the aid of a microscope. In all such cases, as well as in the instance referred to by Wollaston, we are determined very powerfully by nature; in a way, indeed, that our reason cannot explain, but which we never fail to find subservient to valuable ends. For I am far from thinking that it would be of advantage to mankind if Wollaston's views were generally adopted. That the love of glory has sometimes covered the earth with desolation and bloodshed I am ready to grant; but the actions to which it generally prompts are highly serviceable to the world. Indeed it is only by such actions that an enviable fame is to be acquired.

A strong conviction of this truth has led Dr. Akenside to express himself in one of his odes with a warmth.

which passes perhaps the bounds of strict propriety, but for which a sufficient apology may be found in the poetical enthusiasm by which it was inspired. The ode is said to have been occasioned by a sermon against the love of glory.

"Come then, tell me, sage divine,

Is it an offence to own
That our bosoms e'er incline

Toward immortal Glory's throne?
For with me, nor pomp nor pleasure,
Bourbon's might, Braganza's treasure,
So can fancy's dream rejoice,

So conciliate reason's choice,

As one approving word of her impartial voice.

"If to spurn at noble praise

Be the passport to thy heaven,
Follow thou those gloomy ways;
No such law to me was given:
Nor I trust shall I deplore me
Faring like my friends before me;
Nor a holier place desire

Than Timoleon's arms acquire,

And Tully's curule chair, and Milton's golden lyre."

Having mentioned the name of Milton, I cannot forbear to add, that he too has called the love of fame an infirmity, although he has qualified this implied censure by calling it the infirmity of a noble mind. He has distinctly acknowledged, at the same time, the heroic sacrifices of ease and pleasure to which it has prompted the most distinguished benefactors of the human race.

"Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(The last infirmity of noble minds)

To scorn delights and live laborious days."

I must not dismiss this subject without taking some notice of a theory started by Mr. Hume with respect to the origin of the love of praise: a theory which applies to this passion even when it has for its object the praise of our contemporaries. "Of all opinions," he observes, "those which we form in our own favor, however lofty and presuming, are at bottom the frailest, and the most easily shaken by the contradiction and opposition of others. Our great concern in this case makes us soon alarmed, and keeps our passions upon the watch;

our conciousness of partiality still makes us dread a mistake; and the very difficulty of judging concerning an object which is never set at a due distance from us, nor is seen in a proper point of view, makes us hearken anxiously to the opinion of others who are better qualified to form. opinions concerning us. Hence that strong love of fame with which all mankind are possessed. It is in order to fix and confirm their favorable opinion of themselves, not from any original passion, that they seek the applause of others."*

I think it cannot be doubted that the circumstance here mentioned by Mr. Hume adds greatly to the pleasure we derive from the possession of esteem; but it sufficiently appears from the facts already stated, particularly from the early period of life at which this principle makes its appearance, that there is a satisfaction arising from the possession of esteem perfectly unconnected with the cause referred to by this author. Mr. Hume has therefore mistaken a concomitant effect for the cause of the phenomenon in question.

In remarking, however, this concomitant effect, he must be allowed to have called our attention to a fact of some importance in the philosophy of the human mind, and which ought not to be overlooked in analyzing the compounded sentiment of satisfaction we derive from the good opinion of others. Nor is this the only accessory circumstance that enhances the pleasure resulting from the gratification of the original principle. If in those cases where we are somewhat doubtful of the propriety of our own conduct we are anxious to have in our favor the sanction of public opinion,-so, on the other hand, when we are satisfied in our own minds that our conduct has been right, part of the pleasure we receive from esteem arises from observing the just views and candid dispositions of others. Nor is it less indisputable, on the contrary supposition, that when, in consequence of calumny and misrepresentation, we fail in obtaining that esteem to which we know ourselves to be entitled, our disappointment at missing our just re

Dissertation on the Passions-Essays, Vol. I. p. 202.

ward is aggravated, to a wonderful degree, by our sorrow for the injustice and ingratitude of mankind. Still, however, it must be remembered that these are only accessory circumstances, and that there is a pleasure resulting from the possession of esteem which is not resolvable into either of them, and which appears to be an ultimate fact in the constitution of our nature.

From the passage formerly quoted from Wollaston it appears that he apprehended the love of fame to be justifiable only in two cases. The one is, when we desire it as a confirmation of the rectitude of our own judgments; the other, when the possession of it can be attended with some real and solid good. But why, I must again repeat, offer any apology for our obeying a natural principle of our constitution, so long as we preserve it under due regulation?

It is not unworthy of remark, that this principle is one of those with which our fellow creatures are most disposed to sympathize. With what indignation do we hear the slightest reflection cast on the memory of one who was dear to us, and how sacred do we feel the duty of coming forward in his defence? Nor is this sympathy confined to the circle of our own acquaintance. It embraces the wise and good of the most remote ages, and prompts us irresistibly to protect their fame from the assaults of envy and detraction. Whatever theory philosophers may adopt as to the origin of this sympathy, its utility in preserving immaculate the reputation of those ornaments of humanity whom mankind look up to as models for imitation is equally indisputable.

I have already said that the desire of esteem is, on the whole, a useful principle of action; for, although there are many cases in which the public opinion is erroneous and corrupted, there are many more in which it is agreeable to reason, and favorable to the interests of virtue and of mankind. The habits, therefore, which this principle of action has a tendency to form are likely, in most instances, to coincide with those which are recommended by a sense of duty. In many men, accordingly, who are very little influenced by higher principles, a regard to the opinion of the world, (or, as we

commonly express it, a regard to character) produces a conduct honorable to themselves and beneficial to society.*

To this observation it may be added, that the habits to which we are trained by the desire of esteem render the acquisition of virtuous habits more easy. The desire of esteem operates in children before they have a capacity to distinguish right from wrong; or at least the former principle of action is much more powerful in their case than the latter. Hence it furnishes a most useful and effectual engine in the business of education, more particularly by training us early to exertions of self-command and self-denial. It teaches us, for example, to restrain our appetites within those bounds which decency prescribes, and thus forms us to habits of moderation and temperance. And although our conduct cannot be denominated virtuous so long as a regard to the opinion of others is our only motive, yet the habits we thus acquire in infancy and childhood render it more easy for us to subject our passions to the authority of reason and conscience as we advance to maturity. "In that young man," said Sylla, speaking of Cæsar, "who walks the streets with so little regard to modesty, I foresee many Marius's." His idea probably was, that on a temper so completely divested of sympathy with the feelings of others, society could lay little hold, and that whatever principle of action should happen to gain the ascendant in his mind was likely to sacrifice to its own gratification the restraints both of honor and of duty.

These, and some other considerations of the same kind, have struck Mr. Smith so forcibly that he has been led to resolve our sense of duty into a regard to the good opinion, and a desire to obtain the sympathy of our fellow creatures. I shall afterwards have occasion to examine the principal arguments he alleges in support of his conclusions. At present I shall only remark,

"Gloria enim solida quædam res et expressa, non adumbrata; ea est consentiens laus bonorum, incorrupta vox bene judicantium de excellente virtute. Ea virtuti resonat tamquam imago, quæ quia recte factorum plerumque comes est, non est bonis viris repudianda."-Cic. Tusc. iii. Cap. 2.