A series of popular essays, illustrative of principles essentially connected with the improvement of the understanding, the imagination, and the heart

A

SERIES

OF •

POPULAR ESSAYS,

ILLUSTRATIVE OF

PRINCIPLES ESSENTIALLY CONNECTED

WITH THE IMPROVEMENT

OF THE UNDERSTANDING, THE IMAGINATION,
AND THE HEART.

BY ELIZABETH HAMILTON,

AUTHOR OF LETTERS ON THE ELEMENTARY PRINCIPLES OF
EDUCATION, COTTAGERS OF GLENBURME, 8tC.

Accuse not Nature, she hath done her part :
Do thou but thine, and be not diffident
Of Wisdom ; she deserts thee not, if thou
Dismiss not her. MILTON.

VOLUME I.

EDINBURGH :

PRINTED FOR MANNERS AND MILLER;

AND LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN; AND

T. CADJiLL AND W. DAVIES, LONDON.

1813.

TO
THE REVEREND

ARCHIBALD ALISON,

PREBENDARY OF SARUM,

AND

SENIOR CLERGYMAN OF THE EPISCOPAL CHAPEL
IN THE COWGATE, EDINBURGH,

THESE ESSAYS

ARK,

AS A TRIBUTE OF GRATITUDE
AND AFFECTION,

MOST CORDIALLY AND RESPECTFULLY
INSCRIBED.

CONTENTS.

Introduction, - - Page xii

ESSAY I.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE UTILITY
OF THE STUDY OF THE MIND, AND OF ITS
CONNEXION WITH THE IMPROVEMENT OF
EDUCATION.

Objections stated and examined. Observations and
arguments in support of these. Various illustra-
tions and examples, - 1

ESSAY II.

ON THE AGENCY OF ATTENTION IN THE DE-
VELOPMENT AND CULTIVATION OF THE IN-
TELLECTUAL POWERS.

CHAPTER I.

On the correspondence between the degree in which
we enjoy the advantages of quick and accurate
perception, and the degree of attention habitually

Vlll

given to the objects of perception in general, or
to certain classes of these objects. Application of
this doctrine in regard to the education of the
lower orders, 51

CHAPTER II.

Subject continued. Effects of a partial cultivation
of the faculty of perception exemplified in vari-
ous characters. Views of its consequences in do-
mestic life, 79

CHAPTER III.

On the correspondence between the quickness of
our apprehension and the degree in which the fa-
culty of conception has been exercised by atten-
tion to the objects of that faculty, $4

CHAPTER IV.

i

Agency of attention in cultivating the faculty of
judgment, illustrated by a variety of examples, 116

CHAPTER V.

On the agency of attention in cultivating the power
of reasoning. Effects of a partial cultivation of
this power exemplified. Inference, 155

IX

ESSAY III.

ON THE EFFECTS RESULTING FROM A PECU-
LIAR DIRECTION OF ATTENTION ON THE
POWER OF IMAGINATION, AND IN PRODUC-
ING THE EMOTIONS OF TASTE.

CHAPTER I.

Observations on the power of imagination, as afford-
ing exercise to such of the intellectual faculties
as have previously been developed and cultivated.
Correspondence between the degree in which any

f of these faculties habitually operate, and the na-
ture of the combinations formed in the imagina-
tion, illustrated by various examples, 155

CHAPTER II.

The emotions of taste ; not to be produced by the
operations of intellect, or of the affections sepa-
rately, but by their combined operation. Man-
ner in which the affections of the heart, and the
faculties of the understanding, are blended in the
exercise of taste, illustrated, &c. - 180

CHAPTER III.

Taste cultivated through the medium of descrip-
tions that excite the imagination. Effects of
confining the attention to certain models. Criti-
cism. Important consequences resulting from
it. Conclusion. - - 230

ESSAY IV.

ON THE PROPENSITY TO MAGNIFY THE
IDEA OF SELF.

CHAPTER I.

Preliminary observations on the necessity of taking
all the principles of the mind into consideration,
in studying them with a view to self-improve-
ment. Consequences of confining the attention
to certain of the mental phenomena, exemplified.
Propensity to magnify the idea of self, to be dis-
tinguished from selfishness and from self-love, 26l

CHAPTER II.

Manner in which the vain man connects the idea of
self with the objects he describes. Statement of
the operation of the propensity to magnify the
idea of self, in the love of dress ; — in seeking

XI

acquaintance with the great or distinguished ; and

in a variety of other instances, 280

CHAPTER III.

Propensity to enlarge the idea of self, how gratifi-
ed in humble life. Examples of its operation in
the meanest circumstances. Family pride exa-
mined. Examples. Influence of the desire of
magnifying the idea of self, in carrying our views
into futurity. Posthumous honours. Posthu-
mous deeds. Love of fame, &c. 306

CHAPTER IV.

Operation of the propensity to magnify the idea of
self productive of the malevolent affections. Ex-
amples of its tendency to produce envy, uncha-
ritableness, detraction, &c. 332

CHAPTER V.

Distinction between pride and vanity. Peculiar
operation of the selfish principle in the mind of
the proud. Illustrations. 371

INTRODUCTION.

IT is so nearly impossible to convey, in
the narrow limits of a title-pa^, any
distinct notion of the nature and design
of a Work like this, and yet so desirable
that the reader should have some guide
to his expectations, that the task of
writing an Introduction seems to be
imposed upon the Author as an essen*
tial duty. 1 must, however, confess,
that it is a duty performed with great
reluctance ; for, whether it be from na-
tural infirmity, or from the habits of my
life, such is the repugnance I feel to
speaking of my own works, that it re-

XIV

quires no inconsiderable effort to ad-
dress the reader upon the subject. This
confession is farther extorted by the
consciousness of having, from my back-
wardness, lost all the advantages which
my Work might have derived, had I
availed myself of the opportunities which
my acquaintance with many eminent
judges of literature seemed to offer, of
conversing with them on the subjects o£
which it treats. The inference to be
made from this acknowledgment, is,
that when I have erred, I am alone res-
ponsible for the error.

I now hasten to the explanatory ob-
servations that are presumed to be ne-
cessary. It has in the title-page been

•

stated, that what is contained in these
Essays, is connected with the improve-

XV

ment of the understanding, the irhagina-
tion, and the heart. I have now to
prove the existence, and to explain the
nature of this connexion. In order to
which it may at the outset be necessary
to premise, that it is not in the form of
didactic precept, or grave admonition,
that I have presumed to offer my assis-
tance, even to the uninformed. It is
by calling the attention of the reader to
a serious examination of the obstacles
which impede our progress, and which
must be surmounted, before either the
heart or the understanding can be effec-
tually improved, that I have attempted
to accomplish the end proposed. The
obstacles to which I allude, are not
created by external circumstances : they
are to be found within, and can only be
discovered by an actual survey of our

XVI

common nature ; such as may, how-
ever, be taken by every person capable
of observation and reflection.

It will hence be inferred, that the sul>
jects treated of in the following Essays
are nearly connected with the science of
mind ; nor is the inference erroneous.
I do not indeed know how it is possible
to effect improvement, without taking
into consideration the nature of that
which is to be improved. But let not
those who hastily decide upon the merit
of a Work by looking into the first pages,
hence conclude, that I mean to be dull,
deep, and metaphysical throughout. I
assure them of the contrary ; and that,
as it is not in my power to be very deep,
I have taken care to be as little dull as
possible.

XV11

The conclusions which I have pre-
sumed to make, are deduced from facts
that are the objects of our familiar Ob-
servation, and when it has been thought
necessary to illustrate them, the mode
of illustration adopted will be found to
correspond with the term popular, as-
sumed in the title.

Those who estimate the importance
of every species of knowledge by its
utility, and appreciate its utility by the
degree in which it is calculated to faci-
litate their moral improvement, only
require to be assured that a subject
possesses those advantages, in order to
have their attention excited to an exa-
mination of its merits. But as preju-
dice takes a shorter course, it is of

VOL. i. b

XV111

some importance, where metaphysical
inquiry is its object, to be able to ob-
viate its influence, by shewing in what
a slight degree such prejudice would
militate against me.

Of the utility or inutility of the science
of mind, few in reality have it in their
power to judge. It is to the learned
that what is written by the learned is
addressed, and it is consequently to the
learned, that the knowledge of many
useful truths must be confined, until,
through the medium of inferior chan-
nels, they obtain currency.

To be thought instrumental in thus
diffusing the observations or discoveries
of superior minds, I should deem no

XI*

mean praise. But it is not the object
I have had principally in view in writ-
ing these Essays. However I have
availed myself of the light derived from
the investigations of our eminent philo-
sophers, as the object at which I have
aimed is distinct from theirs, the assis-
tance afforded has been only partial.
Of my design the prominent feature is
an attempt to deduce, from a conside-
ration of the nature of the human mind,
proofs, that revealed religion offers the
only effectual means of improving the
human character. I have consequent-
ly confined my observations respecting
mind, to facts that are within the
knowledge of every common observer,
and which all have it in their power to
investigate and comprehend.

XX

The First Essay in the Series is but
remotely connected with the subjects
discussed in the succeeding Essays.
But as, in the years which have elapsed
since it was written, I have not had
reason to retract the sentiments it con-
tains, with regard to the advantages
derived from the science of mind, it
has been retained as a useful, though
not essential, preliminary. It is de-
voted to an examination of the chief
objections that have been made to the
utility of that knowledge which I deem
to be eminently and practically useful ;
and to an illustration of the advantages
derived from it, as affording the only
means of detecting what is visionary or
unprofitable in our plans of education.

XXI

To such of my readers as have no pe-
culiar interest in the subject of educa-
tion, this Essay may perhaps appear
superfluous; but small, I trust, is the
number of intelligent persons, to whom
what so nearly concerns the happiness
of society as the improvement of the
rising generation, will appear devoid of
interest. As a first step towards the im-
provement of the understanding, I have,
in the succeeding Essay, endeavoured to
point out the means provided by nature
for the development of the intellectual
faculties ; showing, that attention is in
every instance the agent by whose opera-
tion they are developed, and improved.

I am 'conscious, that in having en-
deavoured to prove that there is an ex-
act correspondence between the degree

XX11

in which we are capable of exercising
any, or all of the intellectual faculties,
and the degree of attention bestowed on
the peculiar objects of that faculty, I
have possibly exposed myself to the
charge of presumption. It may by some
be deemed unpardonable in me, to
present the result of my own observa-
tions on the agency of attention, unsup-
ported by the authority of any former
writer. But it is not the truly great and
enlightened philosophers who have de-
voted themselves to the science of mind,
that will be most forward to condemn
me. Those will behold with compla-
cency, the genuine fruits of observation
and reflection, necessarily untinctured
by those prejudices and predilections,
which are so apt tenaciously to adhere
to the disciples of every distinguished

XX111

school ; and when I have erred, will do
the favour to point out my error, with
the indulgence due to one who is ear-
nestly bent on the pursuit of truth.

I can no where with greater proprie-
ty make a confession of having, in the
commencement of that very Essay, un-
intentionally afforded an evidence of
the truth of my remarks with respect to
the agency of attention ; as, had my at-
tention been more sedulously directed to
the powers of language, I should doubt-
less have expressed rny meaning with a
precision which would have obviated
the necessity of explanation.* Nor is

* The passage alluded to occurs at p. 54. of the first
volume. It is there stated as my present conviction, that
in having, in a former Work, denominated attention a fa-
culty susceptible of improvement, I had committed an

XXIV

this the solitary instance in which I have
applied terms in a way that may to the

error. But, as I fear that I have not with sufficient accu-
racy pointed out the supposed blunder, that no obscurity
may rest upon my meaning, I must request the intelligent
reader to observe, that in the Letters on the Elementary
Principles of Education, I had ascribed the development
and improvement of the faculties of perception, judg-
ment, &c. to the improvement of the faculty of atten-
tion ; but, on further consideration, had been convinced,
that it was not properly speaking to any improvement In
the power of attention, but to a certain application of
that power, that the cultivation of perception, judgment,
&c. ought to have been attributed. I am too little skilled
in etymology, to enter into any dispute concerning the
propriety of terms ; but according to the ideas which I
attach to the word faculty, as expressive of an operation
of the mind, attention is a primary and elementary
faculty. The term habit, when substituted for attention,
denotes to me the application of the faculty, but not the
faculty itself. By habit, we acquire a greater facility in
the application of attention, and, consequently, what-
ever tends to produce or confirm this habit, may be said
to improve the faculty, though it appears to me, that, in
reality, it only enables us to enjoy the benefits resulting
from its use.

XXV

learned reader seem inadmissible. But
if no obscurity has rested on m j mean-
ing, if my language has throughout been
sufficiently intelligible to convey the ob-
servations I intended to communicate,
more trifling faults will I trust be par-
doned.

In the first part of the Third Essay I
have endeavoured to explain the effects
that result from a peculiar direction of
attention on the power of imagination ;
and to prove, that all the combinations
produced by that complex faculty, how-
ever widely they may vary in different
rninds, in respect to their excellence
and utility, constantly, in every indivi-
dual mind, correspond to the degree in
which the faculties of the understanding
have been cultivated, and to the nature

of the objects on which they have been
employed. Contenting myself with
giving a simple statement of the fact,
with such illustrations as seemed calcu-
lated to render it intelligible to my
younger readers, I have left it to those
who are capable of pursuing the subject,
to make such farther use of the hints
that have been offered, as may be use-
ful in aiding their inquiries into the
sources of the pleasure derived from
works of fancy in general, and more
especially from poetical composition.
They will quickly perceive, that the
imagination of every poet who has any
claim to originality, has some peculiar
characteristic; and may, by applying
the hints alluded to, discover whence
that distinguishing feature has original-

xxvii

ed, which gives to a certain description

of poetry its power to charm.

i

The second part of the same Essay
has been devoted to an inquiry into the
emotions of taste, with an intention to
show the agency of attention in produc-
ing and modifying these emotions.

The nature of the subject has com-
pelled me here to anticipate observa-
tions that will afterwards be found more
fully stated and explained.

Taste being not only one of the high-
est exercises of the understanding, but
an exercise of the affections of the heart,
is, according to my view of the subject, a
connecting link between the speculative
and active powers of our nature ; its

xxvm

emotions being dependant on both, and
never produced by either separately. It
should seem as if this ought naturally
to have led to an immediate inquiry
concerning the nature of the affections,
whose operations, mingling with those
of intellect, are necessary to the produc-
tion of the emotions of taste. But, for
reasons which will on the perusal of the
Fourth Essay be rendered obvious, the
consideration of the provision made for
the development and cultivation of the
benevolent affections, has been reserved
for the concluding Essay, and is preced-
ed by observations on the nature and in-
fluence of the propensity to magnify the
idea of self, which appears to me to be
the source of all the malevolent and vin-
dictive passions.

XXIX

This most active principle, if I may
dare, without authority, so to denomi-
nate a propensity whose operations are
spontaneous and universal, has, as far
as my very limited information extends,
been usually confounded either with
selfishness, or with self-love. Its ope-
rations may mingle with either ; but to
me it appears to be specifically different
from both. I have endeavoured to
point out the distinction, and to display
the operation of the propensity to ex-
pand or enlarge the idea of self, in a
multiplicity of examples. I have de-
tected it as operating in 'the vain, the
proud, and the ambitious ; have shown
its connexion with party-spirit, and
proved it to be the essential constituent
of bigotry and intolerance. Whether
the facts presented be such as to war-

XXX

rant the conclusions drawn from them,
the judicious reader must determine ;
but the convictions they have impressed
upon my own mind, I have thought it
my duty to state without reserve.

If I have freely and boldly declared
the opinions that are the result of my
own observations on human character
and conduct, I have been at pains to
afford to the reader an opportunity of
observing the same objects in the same
point of view, that he may be enabled
to correct the mistakes I have made
concerning them. And having no am-
bition to be considered as the author
of a peculiar theory, am so far from
being anxious for the establishment of
my own opinions, that I am sincerely
and earnestly desirous, that they should

XXXI

be no farther received than as they are
found, on accurate examination, to cor-
respond with truth. r

If apology be still deemed necessary,
I confess I have none to offer, not hav-
ing been as yet convinced, that there
is any subject within the range of human
intellect, on which the capacity of any
intelligent Being of either sex, may
not be profitably, or, at least, inno-
cently employed. In contemplating
the works of God, time can never be
spent unprofitably, if these lead to the
contemplation of the great Creator.
And as all our researches into the
works of nature, tend to increase our
admiration of divine wisdom, by af-
fording such astonishing proofs of cor-
respondence between the means and

XXX11

the end, as argues a congruity of de-
sign that exalts our conceptions of the
Omniscient, we may from analogy con^
elude, that were the intellectual world as
obvious to our investigation as the ma-
terial, we should perceive, that all which
excites our wonder and admiration, in
the structure of organized bodies, is as
nothing, compared to the wonders of
the little world within. The means
of investigation are different ; but while
we have before us so many evidences
of the operations of the mind, and
may, by an attentive observation of
these, obtain a knowledge of its va-
rious powers, and of the effects produc-
ed on them by circumstances that are
either favourable or unfavourable to
their cultivation, it is vain to complain
that we are destitute of means. Were

XXX111

our inquiries to answer no other pur-
pose than that of gratifying a laudable
desire of extending our knowledge of
existing things, it would still be difficult
to prove the pursuit unworthy of ra-
tional beings, or that it was to be rank-
ed with those which merit no higher
praise than that they afford an innocent
amusement to the hours of leisure.

To the science of mind, considered
merely as a speculative science, plau-
sible objections may be made ; but as
the knowledge of mind is the knowledge
of the most valuable and most unalien-
able part of our possessions ; nay, more^
is the knowledge of a treasure which
we may use, or abuse, but for the use
or abuse of which we are hereafter to
be responsible, it cannot properly be

VOL. i. c

XXXIV

characterized as speculative. Those
who are impressed with a deep convic-
tion of their responsibility, will readily
acknowledge, that if it can be proved
that a knowledge of the various powers
and faculties of the human mind may
be rendered essentially instrumental in
confirming our religious faith, and in
improving our moral qualities, no sci-
ence can be put in competition with it,
either as interesting or useful.

It is only to such operations of the
mind as are, in this point of view, objects
of great importance, that I have presum-
ed to solicit attention ; and as it is not in
the vain hope of adding to the informa-
tion of the speculative inquirer, but for
the purpose of directing the spirit of in-
quiry to the practical advantages result-

XXXV

ing from observations on the human
mind, which all have it in their power
to verify, my departure from authori-
ties may, I trust, be deemed excusable.
Thus, though in mentioning the pro-
pensity to magnify the idea of self as a
principle of the mind, I may, to pro-
found metaphysicians, appear to have
egregiously erred, if my observations,
with respect to the effects resulting from
that propensity, are found to corres-
pond with truth, the practical benefit
will not, by any consideration of error
in the classification, be either lessened
or destroyed.

If, on reflecting on what passes in our
own minds, and on observing what pas-
ses in the minds of others, we are con-
vinced of the existence and extensive

XXXY1

influence of that baleful impulse, to
which (though not without such defini-
tion as must prevent mistake) I have
sometimes given the appellation of sel-*
jish principle, an examination of the
means afforded by Providence for coun-
teracting and subduing it, will not be
an object of indifference.

An inquiry into these means forms
the subject of the Fifth Essay. The
provision made by the wisdom of Pro-
vidence, for the counteraction of that
spontaneous propensity which I consi-
der as the origin of all moral depravity,
is there represented as having its source
in the benevolent affections. The means
afforded by the Author of our being for
the development and cultivation of the
affections, comes in course next into

XXXV11

consideration. I have stated, what
seems to me sufficient grounds for in-
ferring, that the affections of the heart
are, like the faculties of the understand-
ing, dependant on the agency of atten-
tion ; and that, consequently, they are
developed and cultivated, only in pro-
portion to the degree in which atten-
tion has been given to qualities that
naturally excite emotions of sympathy.
Thus, the quality of goodness excites
love, wisdom excites respect, &c. But
if attention to these qualities be neces-
sary towards exciting the correspondent
emotions, it must of course follow, that
if we can suppose a human being to be
so circumstanced, as never to have had
an opportunity of observing the mani~
festation of these qualities, he would of
necessity be doomed to remain for ever

XXXV111

destitute of the correspondent affections.
That this is actually the case I am con-
vinced, and have, as clearly as my abi-
lities permits, stated the grounds of my
conviction.

In the views presented to my mind,
of the provision made for the develop-
ment of the affections in the infant
heart, which is such as to render their
exercise almost coeval with the con-
sciousness of existence, thus precluding
the possibility of their remaining in any
human being completely dormant, I
perceive such demonstration of the be-
nevolence of Deity, as has frequently
induced me to wish that another Paley
may arise to prosecute the subject, and,
from facts respecting the operations of
the mind, to produce evidence similar

XXXIX

in kind to those brought forward by that
distinguished author, in his well known

treatise on natural theology.

i

• :'*%^ '"'X'1

If it be almost impossible to contem-
plate the complicated structure of the
organs of hearing, or of sight, without
profound admiration of the infinite
wisdom which adapted each minute
and delicate part of the apparatus to the
special end it was designed to answer,
and which in every instance employed
a sqries of contrivances to produce the
intended effect, I may surely presume,
that the same demonstration of unity
of design, in what may likewise be call-
ed a series of contrivances for the due
development of affections that are essen-
tial to individual and social happiness,

cannot be contemplated with indiffe^
rence.

Having_stated such arguments as my
own reflections suggested, in proof that
the "benevolent affections are cultivated
in proportion to the degree in which
they are habitually exercised by atten-
tion to their proper objects ; and shown
that these objects, viz. qualities that ex-
cite sympathy, are, from the frailty of
our nature, rarely exhibited in any per-*
fection ; and consequently, that the af-
fections that correspond to the qualities
of justice, mercy, benignity, truth, purity,
&c. must, from the want of an opportu-
nity of contemplating them, be in the
great generality of mankind dormant,
unless farther means were given for cul-
tivating them than are presented in the

xli

few rare instances of exalted virtue that
occasionally occur ; — 1 hence infer a
reasonable probability, that, according
to our notion of the benignity of Deity,
such additional means would be afford^
ed.

In divine revelation, it appears to me
that these means have been abundantly
supplied. With respect to the complete
adequacy of the means there presented,
for cultivating and improving all the
best affections of the heart, I have offer*
ed such observations as may, I trust,
induce some to pursue the inquiry, to
the lasting benefit of their own hearts.

The importance of the inferences will
not escape the notice of the intelligent.
They cannot be admitted without

xlii

ing to serious reflection on the inutility
of that religious instruction which tends
not, directly or indirectly, to excite or
exercise any of those benevolent affec-
tions, which divine revelation presents
an effectual means of cultivating, and
which, by a proper direction of atten-
tion, it would inevitably exercise and
improve.

The necessity of extending the bene-
fits of education to the lower orders of
society is at length perceived, and is,
with few exceptions, acknowledged by
enlightened minds. But great is the
apprehension still entertained by many,
with regard to the consequences that
may result from putting the Scriptures
into the hands of the vulgar, lest they
should, perad venture, misconstrue pas-

xliii

sages beyond their power to compre-
hend. By teaching them to consider
divine revelation as a means afforded by
Providence for opening and improving
the pious and benevolent affections, and
by directing the attention to the objects
it presents, which are peculiarly adapted
to that purpose, the objection would be
obviated. From those who have im-
bibed the spirit of Christianity, the
church can have nothing to fear; for
the instructors in righteousness will by
such be regarded with filial veneration.
But great is the danger to be apprehend-
ed to the Establishment from the re-
action of the selfish principle. Great,
therefore, ought to be the pains taken
by those interested in its preservation, to
apply the means granted by Providence
for cultivating the affections by which

xliv

that principle is most effectually restrain-
ed. How far the truths I have offered
may in this respect be useful, experience
must determine,

It was at first intended, that they
should have been accompanied by co-
pious illustrations from history, sacred
and profane. But though the materials
were collected, the completion of that
part of my design, though not entirely
relinquished, is, at least for the present,
laid aside. Sufficient for me would be
the gratification, should any candid
minds, from a perusal of the arguments
offered in the subsequent pages, be in-
duced to re-examine the principles by
which they have been actuated, and
the opinions by which they have been
influenced, that so they may apply with

xlv

increased ardour to the fountain of life
and truth.

It now remains to say something
with respect to the execution of the
Work. By far the greater part of what
is now offered to the public was com-
posed, or at least suggested, in the soli-
tary hours of sickness ; and may there-
fore be expected occasionally to exhibit
marks of correspondent languor. But
,as pain, though it frequently interrupt-
ed, never entirely broke the chain of
thought, I trust that few material chasms
will be discovered in the series. Long
as the subject has occupied my mind,
had it appeared to me that I had any
reasonable grounds for expecting that I
should enjoy such a period of health,
as might enable me completely to finish,

xlvi

and carefully to revise my Manuscript,
I should have been in no hurry to com-
mit it to the press ; and I confess that I
already begin to apprehend, that the
critics, who are inexorable with respect
to offences against verbal accuracy, will,
by the severity of their censure, give me
reason to repent that I did not delay the
printing, until I had it in my power to
superintend the revision of the sheets,
after the first corrections of them had
gone through the press ; as, though to
the vigilance and attention of my prin-
ters I confess myself under great obli-
gations, a list of Errata has become
necessary, to which the reader is re-
quested to refer, in order to mark the
passages that require alteration.

BATH,
January 1813.

ERRATA.

Page

Line

13,

18, for bind read

bend

35,

2, imposed

impressed

37,

18, within equally

within an equally

57,

11, in

for

63,

1 8, imagine

examine

82,

1 5, will

may

145,

2, balancing

estimating

204,

3, in

on

214,

10, pleasures

pleasure

218,

21, qualities

characters

360,

3, that

her

ESSAY I.
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS

ON THE

UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF THE MIND,

AND OF

ITS CONNEXION WITH THE IMPROVEMENT
OF

EDUCATION.

VOL. I.

u - vJ. '»•' i: '/; firffi i jff •'.<>/

ESSAY I.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE UTILITY OF
THE STUDY OF THE MIND, AND OF ITS CON-
NEXION WITH THE IMPROVEMENT OF EDU-
CATION.

Objections stated and examined. Observations and
arguments in support of these. Various illustra-
tions and examples.

.-.ji'ir. 'c. -.»rf-rj isij . i'i: vi'^; ii -r : •-.- >fj ;ii:..j

iJij i'-f jiOi.Jtjlb r; ._;•«>(/ i'.-it'-'J

IN taking a slight view of the objections
that have been made to the study of human
nature, the first that occurs to me is per-
haps not the least formidable, as it is found-
ed on the nature -of the mind, and its pre-
vailing passions. " Impossible," it is said,
" absolutely impossible, to render that stu-
dy popular which offers no gratifications

4 ESSAY I.

to human vanity under any of its modifi-
cations." But though, under the influence
of vanity, the acquisition will never be
rendered profitable, it does not seem im-
possible that vanity may, in the course of
events, be interested in acquiring and dif-
fusing the knowledge in question.

I am aware that an abhorrence of mental
labour is the concomitant of those habits
of luxury and dissipation which charac-
terize the present times. Nor do the
variety and multitude of acquirements,
which are presented by fashion as essen-
tially necessary to persons of all ranks and
conditions, afford any contradiction to the
assertion, as these, however numerous,
however varied,. may generally be obtain-
ed without any exertion of the rational
powers. But though, in this distinguish-
ing feature in the character of the .age,
some persons of acute penetration perceive
an insuperable obstacle to the more gene-
ral diffusion of that knowledge respecting

ESSAY I. 5

the human mind, to which reflection and
observation are alike essential, I would
gladly draw from it an opposite conclu-
sion. For if it has indeed become neces-
sary to know a little of every thing, may
it not reasonably be hoped, that when a
superficial acquaintance with other bran-
ches of science has become too common,
to confer distinction, the science of mind
may be resorted to as a desideratum in
polite education? And if, amid all the avo-
cations of business, and politics, and plea-
sure, leisure is found for obtaining some
degree of information on subjects far re-
moved from all that used formerly to be
deemed useful or essential to the gene-
rality of persons, why should we appre-
hend that time may not also be found for
this?

To pave the way for this desirable re-
volution in public taste, it seems above all
things necessary, to divest the subject in
question of that metaphysical garb which

6

ESSAY I.

proves so repulsive, and is so apt to excite
horror and disgust. But this, however de-
sirable, cannot be done by those, who, in
order to clear the ground for erecting their
own particular theory, find it necessary to
prove that it had been pre-occupied by
rubbish. A minute description of the wild
and visionary speculations, which had for-
merly been contended for as truths in-
controvertible by the learned, becomes in
these circumstances requisite, and the only
effect produced upon the reader is that of
intolerable fatigue. Happily for us we
have no occasion to disturb the ashes of
any of the numerous theories respecting
the mental phenomena which have passed
into oblivion. But though these have
proved to be " o' the stuff that dreams are
made of," their evident want of solidity
affords no argument against applying to
useful purposes knowledge of more solid
texture, derived from observation, and rest-
ing on facts familiar to our every day's
experience.

ESSAY I. 7

As well might we object to making use
of the knowledge that has been obtained
of the properties of the magnet, on account
of the wild speculations and untenable theo-
ries at different times suggested concerning
the mysterious nature of that subtle fluid,
as argue against resorting to the knowledge
we have obtained of the operations of the
mind, on account of those fanciful conjec-
tures concerning its nature, which for so
many ages engaged the attention, and exer-
cised the ingenuity, of speculative philo-
sophers. With as much propriety might
we aver, that because it requires scientific
investigation to comprehend all the various
hypotheses formed on the properties of the
magnet, no unlettered mariner ought to
steer his ship by the direction of his com-
pass. Of some information concerning the
peculiar properties of this unerring guide
the mariner must doubtless be possessed;
but it is the knowledge of those that have
been discovered by observation, and con-
firmed by experience, that is to him essen-

ESSAY I.

tial. From observation and experience he
learns, not only to what point of the com-
pass the magnetic needle is generally di-
rected^ but is taught how far it deviates
from that point under particular circum-
stances. Nor is this knowledge rendered
less essentially useful, on account of the
speculations that may have been set forth
on the causes of its attractive power, how-
ever irrational or absurd.

In like manner may the knowledge of
the human mind be applied to practical
purposes, without regarding any of the vi-
sionary theories which aim at gratifying
our curiosity concerning the hidden cause,
but add nothing to our knowledge concern-
ing the certain effects.

What the knowledge of the properties of
the magnet is to the mariner, such, in my
opinion, is the knowledge of the principles
of the human mind to those who are either
bent on self-improvement, or called to ful-

ESSAY I. 9

fil the important duties imposed on all who
are concerned in the business of education*
In this opinion, I regret to find that I have
not the happiness of being supported by
the authority of all whom I esteem and
venerate ; but that, on the contrary, while
some equally distinguished by the brilliancy
of their talents, and the acuteness of their
penetration, consider all that is practically
useful in the science of mind to be so ob-
vious as not to escape the notice of the
least discerning, others deem the subject
too far removed beyond the reach of per-
sons of ordinary capacity, to render the ex-
planation practicable ; and contend,, that,
even were it practicable to convey clear
and distinct notions of the nature of the
human mind to those concerned in its cul-
ture, such knowledge would prove detri-
mental and pernicious.

Of those who have given countenance
to this opinion, the most respectable and
most respected is the honourable and learn-

10 ESSTA/Y-'dl

ed biographer of the late Lord Kames ; and
his arguments I shall take the liberty of
examining, with that freedom which my
knowledge of the candour and liberality of
the author encourages me to use, mingled
with the deference due to his^ character
from all who are capable of appreciating
the value of talents adorned by genuine
virtues ; a deference doubly due from one
whose sentiments Of -esteem are enhanced
by the feelings of gratitude and friendship.

" It is undoubtedly," says his Lordship,
" a very pleasing consideration, that it has
been shewn by ingenious writers, from a
careful analysis of the mental powers, and
an investigation into the principles of moral
conduct, that the most rational system of
education, such, for example, as is prescrib-
ed by Locke, is agreeable to the true prin-
ciples of human nature, and consonant to
the soundest philosophy of the mind. But
was the demonstration necessary, or, con-
sidering the capacities- of those who most

ESSAY I. 1 1

want information on the subject, is it- of
much practical utility ? Hard, indeed, were
the lot of the generality of the human race,
and precarious their chance of moral and
intellectual improvement, if the rearing of
infancy and youth, and the training of the
faculties and powers to the proper ends of
our being, were a deep and intricate science,
of which only a few philosophers had ascer-
tained the just principles, or were fitted to
prescribe the rules and direct the necessary
practice. It may be boldly said, that no
similarly deficient economy is observable
in the plans of the great Author of na-
ture."

In answer to this I beg leave to observe,
that, even according to his Lordship's state-
ment^ the chance for moral and intellectual
improvement must depend on the degree
in which those, who have the training of
the powers and faculties of the infant mind,
are qualified to discharge the trust. If
these are incapable of extending their views

12 ESSAY I.

to what is above termed " the proper ends
of our being," or, from their ignorance of
the nature of that which is to be trained,
are incapable of making choice of proper
means for " training it to the end propos-
ed," their failure must, in either instance,
be almost inevitable ; and, hard as it may
appear, it has, I apprehend, been the lot
of the generality of mankind, through all
ages, to hold their chance of moral and in-
tellectual improvement on this precarious
tenure. Nor does this afford any proof of
inconsistency in the plans of Providence,
but, on the contrary, perfectly accords with
the ordinances of divine wisdom, as display-
ed in what we call the natural progress of
society. Every step in that progress, from
the savage to the civilized state, is effected
by the agency of mind acting upon mind.
Knowledge flows not like a perennial
stream, but, like the rising tide, advances
by successive impulses ; and as wave after
wave imperceptibly gains upon the sandy
waste, so does the accumulated knowledge

ESSAY I. 13

of one generation advance beyond that
which went before it, until it reaches the
boundary prescribed by infinite wisdom,
and hears the mighty voice that proclaims,
" Hitherto shalt thou go, and no farther;
and here shall thy proud waves be stayed ! "

But in what way is the moral and intel-
lectual attainments of one generation to be
transmitted, so as to have an influence in
advancing the intellectual and moral pro-
gress of another, but through the medium
of education ? If those who have the rear-
ing of infancy and youth, are to be pre-
cluded from making use of the discoveries
and observations of superior minds, the
progress must necessarily be retarded. In
their attempts to train the infant mind,
they will, in all probability, bind it in that
direction to which the present passion or
prejudice may chance to point, however
unfavourable to its future advancement in
knowledge or virtue. Hence must arise
consequences no less pernicious than those

14 ESSAY I.

which have resulted from the hasty adop-
tion of visionary theories ; consequences
which, as I apprehend, can only be avoided
by a general diffusion of that knowledge
of our nature, of which the practical utility
has been called in question ; and which,
even taking into consideration the capaci-
ties of those who most want information
on the subject, we have no reason to pro-
nounce beyond the reach of any intellec-
tual being.

It is on these points alone that I have
the misfortune to differ from my respect-
ed and honoured friend.

While the tide of improvement in every
art and science runs high, attempts at im-
proving the art of education will be made.
To prevent such attempts I apprehend to
be impossible; but to preclude all danger
from them, it seems to me essentially ne-
cessary to enable parents to judge of their
utility, by bringing them to the test of

ESSAY I. 15

those principles with which all that is wise
and practical in education will ultimately
be found to correspond. It is thus, I ima-
gine, that a recurrence of the evils which
have arisen from the hasty adoption of
visionary schemes and theories, may with
greatest certainty be prevented ; there
seeming little reason to doubt, that, in
most of the instances in which the minds
of youth have materially suffered, from
injudicious attempts at modelling them
according to the prescribed rules of some
chimerical plan, it was through ignorance
that the fatal error was committed.

Why should we not infer, that in educa-
tion, as in every art and science, the know-
ledge of first principles is the 'most effec-
tual preservative against delusion ? The
parent or preceptor who is either destitute
of such knowledge, or, through contempt,
rejects the application of it, has no other
means of judging of the wisdom or folly,
the utility or inutility, of the plans which

16 ESSAY I.

fashion from time to time brings into use,
but by the slow process of experiment.
Should the experiment prove fatal, deeply
as he may regret the consequences, he is
saved from self-reproach, by the conscious-
ness of good intention. With the same
good intention he permits himself to be
again deceived by the bold assertions of
some other speculatist, and reaps no other
fruit from his change of plans, than a
change of evils.:*

But this is asserted to be the consequence
of departing from common sense ; — com-
mon sense being all that is requisite to
enable us to judge of the rationality of the

* The above is not an imaginary case. There are fa-
milies in these kingdoms, in which the systems of Rous-
seau, Madame Genlis, &c. &c. have been adhered to io
succession, and where every child in the family has been
brought up on a separate plan. But I believe there is
no instance in which the event has not proved the fal-
lacy of the expectations that were formed from these
fs';;- attempts at moulding the mind into a given form.

ESSAY I. 17

plans of education proposed for our use, we
ought implicitly to rely on its decision.
VrfOii- Jjj'l .d.'i'::^!^; JM| c.' : >.*

In answer to this it may be observed,
that as the rationality of any plan consists
in the probability of its being adapted to
the accomplishment of the end we have in
view, if we have no distinct notion of the
end to be accomplished, nor of the nature
of the thing to be operated on, nor of the
instruments to be employed in carrying on
these operations, it is utterly impossible for
common sense to decide on the degree in
which the schemes proposed are adapted to
the accomplishment of the ends in contem-
plation. As an illustration of this, let us
suppose that a chymical projector was, in
the present day, to offer to the world a plan
for converting a piece of wood into one of
the precious metals. With what scorn
would his proposal be rejected! So univer-
sally is some degree of knowledge concern-
ing the difference between vegetable and
metallic substances now diffused, that there

VOL. i. B

X8 ESSAY I.

is scarcely a peasant in the kingdom, who
would not be able to detect the absurdity
of the impostor's pretensions. But how
short a time has elapsed since common
sense would have been no sufficient guard
against such species of imposition ! At the
distance of a few centuries back, the pro-
mises of the alchymist would have been
listened to with undoubting confidence,
not only by the weak and the ignorant,
but by those who ranked with the wisest
in their generation. Shall we then accuse
our fathers of a want of common sense, be-
cause they were thus credulous? No; we
have certainly no right thus to accuse
them, but the very reverse : For it was in
them acting consistently with common
sense, to place confidence in assertions
which were, as they believed, founded on
the asserter's knowledge of certain occult
qualities and principles, far beyond the
reach of ordinary minds to comprehend.
Those who held forth the deliisive promises
were, indeed, worthy of reprobation; be-

ESSAY I. 19

cause, without any just notion of the pro-
perties of the substances on which they
were to operate, they boasted of the power
of effecting in them such changes, as were,
in the nature of things, impossible.

If we find any resemblance between these
pretenders, and the projectors in education,
by whose visionary schemes so many are
said to have been deluded, we shall be led
to conclude, that the same knowledge of
leading principles, which now effectually
preserves us from being deceived by the
specious pretences of enthusiasts of the
former description, would preserve us no
less effectually from being led astray by
the false pretensions of the latter. Why
should the dissemination of this know-
ledge be deemed impracticable?

In support of his opinion of the impracti-
cability of diffusing it, the venerable Judge,
to whose work I have had occasion to re-
fer, has done me the honour of extracting

20 ESSAY I.

a passage inserted in the second edition of
my Letters on the Elementary Principles
of Education, and introduced the extract
by such encomiums as could not fail to gra-
tify the feelings of one who sets a large
value on the approbation of the wise and
good. The passage quoted by his Lord-
ship contains the substance of an observa-
tion made to me by a learned and ingenious
friend, on the propriety of explaining the
term association; from which alleged ne-
cessity his Lordship infers the absurdity of
all attempts to enlighten those who are
called to the performance of one of the
most important duties, by giving them
some knowledge of the principles on which
they ought to act. " What hope," he ex-
claims, " is there, that to those of ordinary
capacity we should convey clear ideas,
while we address them in a language of
which they do not know the first rudi-
ments?" But to what length does this pro-
hibition extend? It seems to be an abso-
lute veto upon giving instruction in any

ESSAY I. 21

science ; for, unless the ideas and senti-
ments which are expressed by general
terms, be innate in the minds of persons of
extraordinary capacity, the greatest philo-
sophers the world have ever seen, must, at
some period of their lives, have been ex-
actly in the predicament of those whose
case is here pronounced hopeless.

If the observation is meant only to apply
to persons who have not had the advan-
tages of a classical education, and who
must consequently find it more difficult to
comprehend the meaning of terms derived
from the Greek or Latin tongues, still it
does not seem supported by experience;
as we have a sufficient number of examples
to prove, that persons confined to the use
of their native tongue, and able to read no
other books than those which are written
in it, may nevertheless be able to think, to
judge, and to reasop, and merely by attend-
ing to the manner in which terms, with
whose origin they are unacquainted, are

22 ESSAY I.

applied, readily acquire a competent notion
of their signification.

When any subject is for the first time
presented to the consideration of two per-
sons of equally sound understanding, it
cannot be doubted, that he who is most
familiarly acquainted with the terms in
which it is stated, will possess a manifest
advantage. But where the subject is ex-
tremely interesting, and deeply concerns
the prosperity or happiness of the indi-
vidual, it is wonderful how soon the ob-
stacle opposed by previous ignorance is
surmounted ; and when surmounted, the
balance of benefits to be derived from the
knowledge received, will depend more on
the comparative vigour of the intellectual
powers than on the difference between
the parties with respect to erudition.

As those who are capable of taking the
most comprehensive views, are ever the
most remarkable for candour and libera-

ESSAY I. 23

Kty, I with confidence appeal to the wise
and learned, beseeching them to consider,
whether, by representing that species of
knowledge which is the result of inquiries
into our common nature, as far above the
reach of ordinary minds, they do not la-
bour to perpetuate all the evils which re-
sult from the darkness of ignorance, and
all the immorality which proceeds from
depraved affections.

The great mass of mankind must ever
be precluded from the possibility of -ac-
quiring many speculative ideas ; but it is
only in those nations where bigotry and
prejudice have endeavoured to perpetuate
darkness, that there is an utter incapacity
for discerning truth. In the natural course
of things, knowledge, like light, has a ten-
dency to diffuse its rays in all directions.
Those who are placed in the least favour-
able situations will be the last to receive
its beams, but in process of time they will
experience their salutary influence, and re-

24 ESSAY I.

joice in that light, which, though too faint
to fertilize the soil, they find sufficient to
direct their steps.

If there is any species of knowledge
which we might presume more likely than
any other to be diffused with spirit, it is
the knowledge of the principles of our
common nature ; a " knowledge which rests
ultimately on facts for which we have the
evidence of our own consciousness."*

This conclusion is, however, not war-
ranted by experience. The utility of those
sciences that are connected with the im-
provement of the arts, commerce, and ma-
nufactures, is so much more immediately
obvious, that they must necessarily be con-
sidered by the mass of mankind as of more
essential importance. But it is only since
their utility has been universally experi-
enced, that it has been thus generally ac-

* STEWART'S Outlines.

ESSAY I. 25

knowledged. A century has not elapsed
since chymistry, to which almost all the
arts have been confessedly so much indebt-
ed, was deemed a legitimate object of ri-
dicule by all -professed wits. How fatally
•would the progress of science have been
retarded, had ingenious men been deter-
red, by the scoffs and sneers of their cotem-
poraries, from directing their attention to
an object, of which, notwithstanding the
absurdity of the speculations to which it
had given rise, they perceived the value
and importance !

Let us reflect on the progress which
chymical knowledge has made in our own
days, and observe to what extent it has
been diffused, How often are its principles
referred to and applied, and properly ap-
plied, by those who have no pretensions to
science, nor possess any information be-
yond what is common to all tolerably well
educated persons ? Such is the natural pro-
gress of knowledge. At first, the object

26 ESSAY I.

of speculative inquiry to the learned or
curious, who by their investigations sepa-
rate truths from errors, and, by simplifying
what was complex, render obvious what
had been considered most obscure. When
their discoveries are capable of being ap-
plied to useful purposes, the application of
them becomes familiar ; principles which
had been deemed so far beyond the com-
prehension of vulgar minds, as to be attain-
able only to the few who devoted their
lives to study, are gradually unfolded to
the general view, and so completely ex-
plained as to be rendered level to the
capacity of every person endowed with
common understanding.

There seems no good reason for affirming
that the science of mind differs in this res-
pect from other sciences. But should pre-
judice retard its progress, the interests of
society, as these embrace the improvement
of the rising generation, must inevitably
suffer. Those to whom the conduct of

ESSAY I. S7

education is entrusted, whether parents or
preceptors, will remain liable to fall into
one or other of the following errors : —
Either, by adhering to established forms
and plans, after the circumstances in wru'ch
these originated have undergone material
change, they will disqualify their children
from taking their place in the society in
which they are to live ; or, directed solely
by the example of their neighbours, and
implicitly relying on the power of chance,
or nature, or contingent circumstances, for
making their children as wise and good as
the children of others, will expose them to
the dominion of every prejudice, vice, or
folly, which prevails in the society in which
they happen to be thrown.

It is from the ignorant that empirics of
every description reap their golden harvest.
A person acquainted with the theory of
vision, will not be apt to listen to the flat-
tering promises of the pretending quack,
who proposes by his nostrums to cure the

28 ZSSAY I.

natural effects of age on the organs of sight.
But let him propose his scheme to one who
knows nothing of the construction of the
eye, and it is a thousand to one that he
will gain credit for the infallibility of his
nostrum.

A curious illustration of my present ar-
gument might be drawn from a supposition,
which, however fanciful, is not beyond
the power of a lively imagination to con-
ceive. Letais for a moment suppose, that
of the various parts which compose the
organs of vision, the rudiments alone ap-
peared in infancy, and that the arrangement
of the different lenses, the development of
the coats, the density and quantity of the
humours, the distribution of the nerves,
and the power of the muscles, were left
dependent on parental care : — let us sup-
pose, that the part from which was with-
held the due degree of nourishment and
exercise, was to wither and decay ; — and
let us imagine how it would fare with the

ESSAY I. 29

sight of the rising generation ! How many
ingenious devices would be contrived for
hastening the slow process of nature, and
improving on her plans ! From one pro-
jector we should have an infallible recipe
for improving the crystalline humour, by
certain liquors distilled in his laboratory :
From another we should be taught, that
the humours of the eye are of no manner
of consequence, and that our attention
should be exclusively directed to the ad-
justment of the nerves. White this doc-
trine remained in fashion, the muscular
fibres would of course be suffered to perish
for want of exercise and nourishment, and
the medium through which the rays of
light ought to be transmitted, having
been weakened or destroyed, the poor
child would remain in utter darkness. Or,
admitting that the parts neglected had
only suffered partial injury from that ne-
glect, the vision would still be weak and
imperfect.

3(J ESSAY I.

The consequences of this injudicious
management may easily be conceived. On
one hand we should perceive persons hav-
ing their eyes permanently fixed in a con-
dition fitted for the perception of distant
objects, but utterly incapable of perceiving
those that are near ; and, on the other
hand, behold persons doomed for life to
depend upon report for all that was not
placed within an inch of their noses :
Some with their orbs turned towards the
skies; some with theirs immovably fixed
towards the earth ; and each so proud of
being able to see what the other did not
see, as to despise his neighbour, and reject
with disdain the assistance or information
he had it in his power to afford him.

Such, judging from what we may every
day observe with regard to mind, would be
the deplorable result of our attempting par-
tially ta improve the constituent parts of
these bodily organs. But suppose that, in-
stead of aiming at thus improving them, it

ESSAY I. 31

was thought sufficient to tell children what
they ought to see, and that we were to give
ourselves credit for having improved their
organs of sight, in exact proportion as we
have succeeded in teaching them to repeat
from us the description of surrounding
objects, can we believe they would be
gainers by this change of plan ? In vain
would they in after life attempt to make
use of those nerves and muscles which we
had permitted to remain inactive, and their
sight would consequently remain for ever
in so imperfect a state, as to render them
dependant on the eyes of others through
life. Do we imagine that we should blame
the parents who have thus doomed their
children to irremediable darkness ? On
what grounds should we condemn them ?
Did they not, in the first instance, employ
the most expensive apparatus, and take in-
finite pains to procure the best advice ?
Did they not, in the latter case, tell their
children all they saw, taking every possi-
ble care to supersede the necessity of using

32 ESSAY I.

their own eyes ? And did they not in
either instance adhere to ancient custom,
or follow the example of their neighbours ?
It is true, that had they taken the trouble
to inform themselves of the structure of
the eye, and the laws of vision, they would
instantly have detected the errors in both
systems of management, and used such
precautions as would have preserved all
the parts of the machine in order, and ren-
dered them capable of performing their
several offices with facility. And why was
not this necessary information obtained ?
Was it because they had no opportunities
of acquiring it ? No : All the information
requisite was forced^ upon them every day
of their lives : they had only to attend to
the manner in which they moved their
own eyes, in order to know that their chil-
dren must be enabled to move theirs in
order to see in the same direction; and that
it was not by teaching them to describe
objects placed beyond the reach of vision,
that this power was to be obtained. To

ESSAY I. JO

suppose such a degree of wilful inatten-
tion to the nature and uses of the several
parts of the complicated machine, which it
was their duty to bring to the greatest
possible perfection, appears so very absurd,
that had we never met with any thing
analogous to it in our own experience, the
illustration on which I have ventured
would, with justice, be condemned as
totally inapplicable. But do we not every
day of our lives witness the effects of mis-
directed efforts to give light to the mind,
independent of the cultivation of its fav
culties?

A good education, — an excellent educa-
tion,— a complete education, — are terms
with which the ear is so familiar, that to
insinuate a doubt concerning the accuracy
of the ideas they convey, will, to many,
seem unreasonable or absurd. Let us,
however, put the matter to the test, by
asking the first ten persons with whom
we have an opportunity of conversing, to

VOL. i. c

34 ESSAY I.

give a definition of these several terms;
and we shall probably find, that no two
persons in the number specified have at-
tached to these terms ideas exactly similar.
But however they may disagree, as to the
number and nature of the accomplishments
which they associate with the idea of a
good, an excellent, or a complete educa-
tion, we shall find, that not only not one
of the ten, but perhaps not one of a thou-
sand, connects with the idea of education,
even when pronounced superlative, any
notion of the general improvement of the
faculties of the human mind, the regulation
of the passions, or the cultivation of the
affections. I do not say, that these are by
so large a portion of mankind considered as
unworthy of attention, but that, in speak-
ing of education, they are not considered
as the great, the primary objects of atten-
tion ; and that education is not pronounc-
ed good, nor excellent, nor complete, in pro-
portion as it has tended to exercise and
invigorate all the faculties of the soul, and

ESSAY I. 35

all the affections of the heart, but as it has
imposed upon the memory a certain num-
ber of facts, and of words descriptive of
the ideas or opinions of the wise and learn-
ed, and produced a facility in the perform-
ance of certain external acts, and in the
pronunciation of certain sounds. Now,
though there can be no doubt, that, in the
course of these various exercises of the
memory, a number of 'ideas must necessa-
rily have been conveyed to the mind, it is
by no means clear, that the instruction
given has had any tendency to improve all
the intellectual faculties, or to cultivate the
affections, or to controul the, operation of
the selfish principle ; all of which circum-
stances ought, according to my view of the
subject, to enter into our definition of the
terms excellent or complete, when applied to
education.

Justly may we call that a good education
which tends to develop and bring into
action those faculties that are most essen-

30 ESSAY I.

tially requisite in conducting the ordinary
business of life, and at the same time gives
such a direction to the active principles of
our nature, as is essential to the happiness
of the individual and of society. A good
education may, according to this definition,
be the privilege of a peasant as well as of
a prince ; nor is the cultivation of the pri-
mary faculties of the mind more essentially
necessary to the latter than to the former.

ii ^

When we connect with the term educa-
tion ideas that are foreign to those which
imply an improvement of the rational fa-
culties and moral principles of our nature,
we must appreciate the advantages of edu-
cation by a false and ever-varying stan-
dard ; and as soon as the utility of any of
those branches of knowledge, associated
in our minds with the idea of education,
appears questionable, we shall be disposed
to deny that education has any beneficial
effects.

ESSAY I. 37

I believe, that in this false association all
the prejudices that have been conceived,
and all the objections that have been made,
to the education of the lower orders, have
solely originated. The arguments employ-
ed in support of these objections, will, I
suppose, be allowed to stand as follows.

" Habits of industry and sobriety are
essential to the poor : From experience we
learn, that reading and writing does not
necessarily render people sober and indus-
trious; and as the education of the poor
consists in being taught to read and write,
it is inferred that the poor receive no
essential benefit from education."

The arguments that have been most
commonly resorted to, in support of the
opposite opinion, may be stated within
equally limited compass. " Knowledge, it
is said, being the most valuable of all acqui-
sitions, ought to be placed within the reach
of all who have a capacity for acquiring it :

38 ESSAY I.

It is by reading and writing that knowledge
is with greatest facility acquired and com-
municated ; and, therefore, all classes of
persons should be taught to read and write."

According to my view of the subject, the
real merits of the question have not been
fairly stated by either of the parties. It
yet, therefore, admits of being presented
in a third, and, as I conceive, a juster and
more appropriate form.

Education, I would say, is the means
employed to cultivate the moral and intel-
lectual faculties of human beings, to the
degree that is requisite to render the indivi-
dual capable of fulfilling his religious and
relative or social duties. The poor are
called to the performance of these several
duties, and therefore their moral and in-
tellectual faculties ought to be cultivated ;
and if reading be an effectual mean of their
cultivation, the poor ought to be taught
to read.

ESSAY r. 39

On examining the subject we shall, I
apprehend, see reason to conclude, that
the advantages resulting to the lower orders
from instruction in the use of letters, has
not been more under-rated by one party
than it has been over-rated by the other.
Persons whose faculties have been imper-
ceptibly unforded at an early period of life,
are so unconscious of the mighty blessing,
that, in comparing themselves with the
ignorant, they are apt to ascribe to the
knowledge they have derived from books,
the difference so apparent between them
and vulgar minds. Hence, when they in
their benevolence desire to unbind the
fetters of ignorance, and give light to those
who sit in darkness, they consider the
knowledge of letters as all-sufficient. The
art of reading they view, not as one of many
means to be employed towards the accom-
plishment of a certain end, bu-t as the sole
and effectual mean through which their
purpose is to be accomplished. But, if to
cultivate the moral and intellectual facul-

40 ESSAY I.

ties, in the degree that is requisite to enable
them to discharge their several duties, be
the end proposed, instruction in the art of
reading must be considered as no farther
valuable than as it conduces to that end :
And as it is obvious to demonstration, that
no further benefit can in any ease be deriv-
ed from what is read, than a~s the mind is
capable of apprehending it, we must con-
elude, that where the faculties of the mind
have become torpid for want of exercise,
it is not merely by attention to the shape
of letters, and to the sounds of words, that
the power of conception will acquire suffi-
cient vigour to enable the mind to receive
any accession of ideas from the words pro-
nounced. In such instances, to what does
the sum total of the benefit derived from
having learned the use of letters amount ?

Great, unquestionably, are the ad vantages
that may result to the children of the poor,
from the establishment of schools appro-
priated to their instruction : But these ad-

ESSAY I. 41

vantages must, as I conceive, be in exact
proportion to the degree in which the real
object of education is kept in view. Nor
are these observations, concerning the con-
sequences that must inevitably ensue fro n
our mistaking the object at which we ought
to aim, applicable only to one class. They
will, alas ! be found to apply but too gene-
rally.

It seems, indeed, as if it were always in
proportion to the magnitude and impor-
tance of the object, that mankind are liable
to be imposed upon by the false views pre-
sented of it, and that credulity never ope-
rated so extensively as in regard to points
which all had an equal opportunity of ex-
amining. What so interesting to intelli-
gent beings, as to know what were the
terms of acceptance with the Deity ! Yet
for how many ages did the Christian na-
tions of Europe tamely forbear to search
the only record in which an answer to the
question was to be found ! Even since

42 ESSAY I.

the sacred volume has been placed within
reach of all, how often has prejudice, in-
credulity, or indolence, rendered the ines-
timable privilege abortive ! In possession
of a test whereby to judge of every rule
and opinion asserted to be of essential effi-
cacy, how often do we indolently acqui-
esce in the assertion, without giving our-
selves the trouble to inquire in what way
the rule or doctrine is likely to influence
the heart, whose affections it is the pro-
vince of religion to elevate and improve !

Those who are convinced, that it is in
proportion as we acquire just and accurate
notions of the effects which religion ought
to produce upon our heart and conduct,
that we become truly religious, should, I
think, be prepared to acknowledge, that
it must also be in proportion as we acquire
just and accurate notions of the effects
which education ought to produce, that
education will be so directed as to become
truly beneficial.

ESSAY I. 43

Why do we now smile at the mistaken
zeal of the pilgrims and crusaders of
a former age ? Is it not, that we now
perceive there is no connexion between
such external acts and that purity and
holiness which the gospel teaches us to
be essential constituents of the religious
character ? But are not crusades and pil-
grimages as necessarily, as essentially con-
nected with our improvement in all the
Christian virtues, as the things to which
we sometimes give the name of education
are connected with the improvement and
cultivation of the principles and faculties
of our nature ?

From the light we have acquired by the
study of the word of God we have learned,
that it is by our obedience to the- will of
the Supreme Being, and not by the per-
formance of certain fantastic or difficult
actions, that we are to judge of our progress
in the religious life; nor dare we whisper
peace to our souls, until every desire of our

44 ESSAY I.

hearts is brought into subjection to the
divine will. It is, however, evident, that
our notions concerning the divine will,
may, if founded on conjecture or hypo-
thesis, be extremely erroneous ; nor will
they fail to be so, if they rest solely on
such foundation ; a remark finely illustrat-
ed by Dr Paley in the following passage.

" An ambassador," says he, " judging
by what he knows of liis sovereign's dis-
position, and arguing from what he has
observed of his conduct, may take his
measures in many cases with safety. But
if he have his instructions and commission
in his pocket, it would be strange not to
look into them." Equally strange, and in
my opinion, equally unjustifiable, is the
conduct of those who, in their attempts to
develop the faculties of the understand-
ing, and to regulate and controul the desires
and affections of the heart, consider the
-nature of those faculties and affections as
totally unworthy of consideration. To this

ESSAY I. 45

infatuation may fairly be ascribed all the
mischiefs that have arisen from a partial
cultivation of certain of the faculties of
the understanding, to the utter neglect of
faculties that are no less essential in every
operation of intellect. Hence the little
attention paid to the cultivation of the
affections, though, when these are wanting,
the very faculties that have been exclu-
sively cultivated become either useless or
applied to unworthy purposes. There is
thus a waste of education, an absolute
throwing away of time, and trouble, an.d
expense.

If the increased attention that has of late
years been paid to the education of chil-
dren in all the different classes of society,
had been really calculated to improve and
invigorate all the moral and intellectual
faculties, what age could have stood in
comparison with the present for wisdom
and virtue? Are we then to blame this
increased attention to the subject of educa-

46 ESSAY I.

tion, as unnecessary and pernicious ; or to
conclude, that if it has not diminished the
empire of vice and folly, it is because it
has been exclusively occupied by objects
of an inferior nature ? Objects which,
having no tendency either to cultivate the
affections of the heart, or to improve the
intellectual faculties, can only with respect
to vice and virtue be regarded as neutrals.

The best apology that can be made for
having confined our attention to these is,
that we implicitly rely on nature for bring-
ing the intellectual faculties to maturity;
and that, on the hearts of our children in
particular, the benevolent affections are
her spontaneous production. But if it can
be proved, that faculties which are never
exercised remain dormant, and, after a
time, become to all intents and purposes
extinct; and that, without great care and
vigilant attention, the selfish principle is
apt to get the better of the benevolent;
our reliance on nature for performing our

ESSAY I. 47

work in addition to her own, will appear to
be somewhat misplaced.

If I presume to hope that some addi-
tional light has been thrown upon these
subjects in the following Essays, it is not
from any confidence in my own powers
that that hope has derived its nourishment,
but from a consideration suggested by a
truly great and enlightened mind, and
which I shall present to the reader as an
apology for my presumption.

" Let it be remembered," says Mr
Stewart, " that when any subject strongly
and habitually occupies the thoughts, it
gives us an interest in the observation of
the most trivial circumstances which we
suspect to have any relation to it, however
distant; and by thus rendering the com-
mon objects and occurrences which the
accidents of life present to us, subservient
to one particular employment of the intel-
lectual powers, establishes in the memory

48 ESSAY I.

a connexion between our favourite pursuit,
and all the materials with which experience
and reflection have supplied us, for the
further prosecution of it."

Great is the encouragement I have de-
riyjed from the above remark, in the prose-
cution of my plan. Conscious of the
length of time in which the subjects of
these Essays have strongly and habitually
occupied my thoughts, I might present
them to the Public with some degree of
confidence, were it not from an apprehen-
sion, that the very degree of attention I
have bestowed upon them, may have pro-
duced in my mind an exaggerated and er-
roneous notion of their importance. That
the reader may fairly judge how far I have
deceived myself, I shall frankly state the
sum of those advantages, that an attentive
consideration of the principles I have en-
deavoured to elucidate seems calculated to
produce,

ESSAY I. 49

A knowledge of these principles appears
to me useful, first, in assisting us to form a
just estimate of our own abilities, and thus
preventing us from falling into the errors
which result from conceiving, that because
some of our faculties have obtained consi-
derable strength and vigour, we must,
therefore, be capable of exerting all of
them with equal force and precision ; se-
condly, in presenting us with such views
of the whole of the powers and faculties of
our nature, as must deter us from weighing
the merits of our own characters, or the
characters of others, by the existence of
a part ; and, lastly, in exalting our concep-
tions of the divine nature, confirming our
faith in divine revelation ; assisting us in
acquiring that knowledge of our own hearts
which is essential to their improvement;
and in subjugating those sinful passions
which are the source of all the misery we
feel or fear.

VOL. i. D

50 ESSAY I.

I shall only add, that though, in speak-
ing of the human mind, I have been, in a
manner, compelled to treat of certain of its
operations in succession, and to describe
them under the denomination of powers,
faculties, &c. as if they had a distinct and
separate existence, nothing is farther from
my intention than to represent the mind as
being, like the body, made up of parts.
The terms I have employed have, there-
fore, been resorted to with no other view,
than as affording the most effectual assist-
ance in conveying distinct notions of the
states of mind it was my purpose severally
to describe. I am, indeed, anxious to have
it understood, that I adopt not the lan-
guage of any class of metaphysicians in
preference to that of another, but adopt
the language sanctioned by custom in pre-
ference to every other, without regarding
by what school of philosophy it has been
most commonly used.

ESSAY II.

.ON THE AGENCY

OF

ATTENTION

IN THE
DEVELOPMENT AND CULTIVATION

OF THE
INTELLECTUAL POWERS.

ESSAY II.

ON THE AGENCY OF ATTENTION IN THE DE-
VELOPMENT AND CULTIVATION OF THE
INTELLECTUAL POWERS.

CHAPTER I.

O« the correspondence between the degree in which we
enjoy the advantages of quick and accurate percep-
tion, and the degree of attention habitually given to
the objects of perception in general, or to certain
classes of these objects. Application of this doctrine
in regard to the education of the lower orders.

ATTENTION is a term in such common
use, that^I shall not perplex the reader by
any definition of it. Neither shall I enter
into any disquisition concerning the pro-
priety or impropriety of denominating it a
faculty of the mind ; being much more soli-

54 ESSAY II.

citous to shew to what important purposes
it may be rendered subservient, than to
evince a critical skill with regard to the
proper classification of that or any other of
the mind's operations.

In the Letters on the Elementary Prin-
ciples of Education, I have, indeed, classed
attention among those faculties of the mind
which it is in our power to cultivate and
improve. On farther consideration, how-
ever, I perceived that I had, in doing so,
committed a blunder not unfrequent with
novices, that of confusing the ideas of
cause and effect. But the error into which
I had inadvertently fallen was, in fact, of
small importance; the force of the repre-
sentations made on the consequences pro-
duced by directing the attention to proper
objects, being nowise affected by any inac-
curacy in the use of terms.

It will be seen from what follows, that,
so far from having found it necessary to

CHAPTER I. 55

retract the opinions I had before given on
this subject, additional experience, and
more accurate observation, have not only
strengthened my conviction of their truth,
but have produced so many evidences in
favour of their importance, as has encou-
raged me to proceed in my inquiries. In
the observations that have occurred to me,
concerning the correspondence which sub-
sists between the degree in which any sense,
or faculty, or passion, or affection, habitu-
ally operates, and the degree of attention
given to what may be termed the proper
objects of that particular sense, faculty,
passion, or affection, as I am unsupported
by the authority of any great name, the
reader will be determined by his own
judgment in pronouncing on their value;
they will therefore be approved or rejected,
as they are found consonant to his own
observation and experience, and not as they
oppose or correspond with the doctrines of
any particular school, or the opinions of
any favourite author.

56 ESSAY II.

In the present Essay it is intended, first,
to examine what are the effects produced
by directing the attention to certain classes
of the objects of perception, in impeding
or enlarging the use of our senses ; and,
secondly, to examine whether each of the
intellectual faculties be not so entirely de-
pendent on the power of attention for their
development, as to be either operative or
torpid, according as, in the mind of the in-
dividual attention has, in early life, been
directed to the objects which are calculated
to exercise and improve them.

At the conclusion of every chapter, I
shall take the liberty of introducing a few
remarks, particularly addressed to those
who are interested in the subject of edu-
cation ; and shall throughout endeavour as
much as possible to lay my views open to
the inspection of readers of every descrip-
tion, and to enliven the dulness of expla-
nation by selecting, from familiar objects,

CHAPTER I. 57

the examples necessary to illustrate or con-
firm the arguments I advance.

The examination of the manner in which
attention operates, in giving habitual faci-
lity to the exercise of certain passions and
affections, shall be reserved for future con-
sideration. Confining myself at present to
that part of the subject which I have de-
scribed above, I now proceed to observe
how much we are dependent on the ope-
ration of attention, in enjoying the full
use of our external senses. To avoid re-
peating myself, I must beg leave to refer
the reader for preliminary observations on
this subject, to a former work,* in which I
have, as I hope, satisfactorily proved, that
when, by the loss of one sense, additional
attention is naturally given to the objects
of the remaining senses, as in the case of
the blind and deaf, the senses thus exer-

* See Letters on the Elementary Principles of Edu-
cation, Vol. II. Letters 2. and 3.

58 ESSAY1 II.

cised become apparently vigorous and ef-
fective. Hence, the peculiar delicacy of
touch observable in the blind ; hence, the
quick-sightedness of the deaf, who, in
many instances, especially where the intel-
lectual faculties have been cultivated, seem
intuitively, at a glance, to comprehend
what could not without circumlocution be
explained to persons whose powers of at-
tention had not been thus concentrated.

In these instances, the senses which
appear to have gained a supernatural de-
gree of vigour, have only been exercised
by a more than ordinary degree of atten-
tion. By whatever means the same degree
of attention is produced, the effects will
be equally conspicuous. In the practice
of those arts which require great delicacy
of touch, by the attention given to that
sense, great delicacy of touch will infallibly
be acquired : In those which exercise the
attention in the perception of distant ob-
jects, the eye will acquire the power of

CHAPTER I. 59

discriminating such objects ; and in those
which call for minute examination, the
attention being directed to minute objects,
will enable the sight, to discriminate them.
The same observations apply to the other
organs of sense. To a cultivated ear many
sounds appear harsh and unpleasant, which
the vulgar pass unnoticed. Nor is this
altogether the effect of association : It is
the effect of attention to that class of
perceptions. Call the attention of your
servants to the creaking of a door, they
will not say that the sound is a pleasant
one ; yet will they perhaps acknowledge,
that the door might have thus creaked for
a month without their having once observ-
ed it.

The effects of attention in enlarging our
power of discrimination, with regard to
music, are extremely curious.

The pleasure we derive from music in
general, and from our national music in

60 ESSAY II.

particular, has been satisfactorily traced
to association,* by one whose name is as-
sociated with all that is excellent and res-
pectable in human character. But when
the pleasure, derived from the repetition of
harmonies to .which the ear has been long
accustomed, is observed to be most vivid,
it sometimes happens, that every species of
music, but that to which the ear has been
accustomed, fails to please. Unless when
nature has bestowed an uncommon portion
of sensibility, even the simple melodies of
other nations are not at first hearing pro-
nounced melodious ; and, to a certainty, all
the intricate and artificial combinations,
which, when skilfully managed, produce
harmony delightful to the ear of the con-
noisseur, are to the untutored listener a
continuation of vague and unmeaning
sounds. It was by repeated attention that
the connoisseur was gradually enabled to

* See Essays on the Principles of Taste, by Mr
ALISON.

CHAPTER I. 1

trace and to follow all those combinations
which now inspire him with unfeigned de-
light. Without having it in our power to
give a similar attention, it is only vanity
and folly that can lead us to pretend to
connoisseurship. It is indeed only by the
repeated exercise of attention, that we can
be enabled so far to perceive the design of
the composer, as to have our imaginations
influenced, and our sensibility awakened;
and as this degree of attention is seldom
given by those to whom music is only an
occasional recreation, it is, I believe, would
they confess the truth, only such simple
melodies, as may without any great effort
of attention be followed, that afford to such
persons any real pleasure. It is neverthe-
less very commonly supposed, by those who
feel themselves deeply affected by simple
melody, and by that alone, that the cause
of their exclusive preference is no other than
the uncorrupted purity and simplicity of ge-
nuine taste ; and according to this decision
of self-love, they are extremely willing to

62 ESSAY II.

ascribe to affectation the emotions produc-
ed in others by combinations of harmony,
which their perception, for want of exer-
cise, cannot enable them to trace or com-
prehend. There is no reason to doubt that
our perceptions, with regard to smelling and
tasting, are regulated by the same laws,
and will in general be found more or less
acute, according to the degree of attention
habitually bestowed on the objects of smell
or taste. ' Without any essential difference
in the natural sensibility of the organ, ex-
treme attention in one person to each variety
of smell, and extreme inattention in ano-
ther to the sensations excited through that
sense, may create such a difference in res-
pect to the acuteness of their perceptions,
that while one is so exquisitely susceptible
as to " die of a rose in aromatic pain," the
other shall walk through a grove of odori-
ferous plants, or through the dirtiest lane
in the most ancient part of this ancient
city, without being sensibly affected by the

CHAPTER I. 63

change ; nay, without once perceiving that
the air is not in both places equally deli-
cious !

In those who live only to eat, and in
those who only eat to live, a similar proof
of the effects of attention is exhibited with
regard to the sensibility of the palate. By
devoting his attention to the subject, the
epicure is quickly enabled to discriminate,
with unerring sagacity, the peculiar flavour
of each of the constituent ingredients in
his favourite sauce. While to him who
eats to satisfy his hunger, the same sauce
appears homogeneous, and is simply rec-
koned good or bad, according as custom has
rendered its predominant flavour agreeable
to his palate.

Let us now imagine what use may be
made of the above observations, and endea-
vour to point out the benefits that may be
derived from their practical application, in

6'4 iSSAY II.

the education of each sex, and of all the
different ranks in society.

First, with regard to the education of the
lower orders ; a subject which begins to
occupy that share of public attention which
its importance so highly merits.

As to touch, taste, and smell, the poor
are certainly gainers in some instances, by
having their perceptions blunted by disuse.
How multiplied would be the hardships of
their lot, if every slight pain were to be
acutely felt ; the organs of taste rendered
so exquisite, as to nauseate viands that had
no other recommendation than being cheap
and wholesome ; and their perception of
smell so lively, as to render the habitations,
in which multitudes are huddled together
in large towns, odious and detestable.

But admitting that the perceptions, with
regard to these senses, may be permitted

to remain dormant without much inconve-
2

CHAPTER I. 65

nience, it is far otherwise with respect to
sight and hearing. Precious as these are to
all, to persons destined to labour for their
daily bread they are particularly precious.

The organs of these senses are, in gene-
ral, given by Providence in a state so per-
fect as not to stand in need of human aid
for their improvement. But do all that
have eyes .observe what is placed before
them ? Do all whose hearing is perfect dis-
tinguish the sounds which they hear with
their ears ? By none who have paid due
attention to this subject will the affirmative
be asserted. But reconciled by custom to
the stupidity of persons in certain situa-
tions, we neither trouble ourselves to in-
quire into the cause, nor to provide a re-
medy for the defect. Even by those to
whom the faculties of men in the lower
walks of life appear of some importance,
the faculties of the other sex in the same
humble station, are deemed unworthy of a
thought. Those who would travel a thou-

VOL, I. E

66 ESSAY II.

sand miles, to satisfy their curiosity with
regard to the peculiar habits of any rare
speoies of wild animal, will, for years of
their lives, suffer daily inconvenience from
the obtuse perceptions of the domestics on
whom they depend for many of their essen-
tial comforts, without having the curiosity
to inquire whence that strange obtuseness
originates. That the cause lies within
reach of discovery is evident; for nature
has not given greater quickness of percep-
tion to one class of persons than to ano-
ther ; neither does a few degrees of latitude
effect such a change in the organization, as
to account for the different degrees in
which the perceptions seem capable of ex-
cercise in the female children of the poor,
m the different parts of this our beloved
island. By a very little observation the
cause would be fully ascertained. If we in-
variably find, that where habits of clean-
liness and order have been established
among the poor, the male and female chil-
dren are, in the early period of life, equal

CHAPTER J. 67

to each other in point of intelligence ; and
that where contrary habits prevail, the girls
evince a manifest inferiority, it must be to
the difference, in respect to the habits of
cleanliness and order, that we must look
for an explanation of the circumstance.
In the former case the attention requisite
for preserving cleanness, and neatness,
and order, awakens the perceptions, and
gives them perpetual exercise. It is on the
female part of the family that these de-
mands upon attention are particularly made.
The consequence is, that the daughter of
the cleanly peasant, having been taught
from infancy to observe every slight alter-
ation produced in the appearance of the
objects around her, by any casual spot
or stain, and having been compelled to
attend to the proper place and situation
of every article that pertains to the home-
ly dwelling, acquires habits of observation
and activity, which remain with her
through every period of life. Destined
as she is to labour for a subsistence, those

68 ESSAY II.

habits are to her of obvious advantage.
JBy the cultivated state of her perceptions
she is enabled quickly to learn, and ac-
curately to perform, every species of do-
mestic work, as far as the performance
of it requires only the use of her hands
and eyes ; and though, in many branches
of household economy, there is so much
minute detail, and the objects of atten-
tion are so numerous, as to seem, at first
view, extremely intricate, we find from
experience, that where the perceptions are
quick and accurate, none of those various
branches escape attention. And as what-
ever has been an object of attention
makes an impression on the memory, even
when the parts of the business are multi-
plied and intricate, we shall find, that
where the perceptions have been cultivat-
ed, as above described, it seldom happens
that any are neglected or forgotten.

Let us now consider the situation of the
female children of the poor, where habits

CHAPTER I. 69

of dirt and sloth prevail. Their attention
never having been directed to any of the
objects around them, but in a slight and
superficial way, these objects afford not
any exercise to the perceptions. Their
perceptions, of consequence, become so
languid, that they have no power of ob-
serving what is placed before their eyes.
They know no distinction between black
and white, clean and dirty; and as the
stupidity that arises from languid percep-
tions renders every species of exertion
painful, such habits of sloth are formed
as frequently prove incorrigible, and are
not without difficulty to be even partially
conquered. Thus prepared, they are sent
into the world to earn their bread in ser-
vice; and at a period of life when the
power of observation ought to have been
vigorous, they have still to learn to observe:
compelled by necessity, however, they do
so far learn, as to acquire the method of
employing their hands in such branches of
domestic work as they are disposed to en-

70 ESSAY II.

gage in ; but, from want of perception, are
incapable of observing the advantages to
be derived from any improvement of the
method they have first been taught, and
from their slothful habits, are rendered so
averse to the trouble of learning farther,
that time and experience adds nothing to
their skill. Having once attained the
power of going through a certain routine
mechanically, they continue to go through
it with as little fatigue of attention as
possible ; and as in every department of
household economy, thorough cleanliness
requires that perception which depends
upon attention, in every department in
which they engage they will, in that ma-
terial point, be found deficient.

The male children of the same family,
or of families of similar description, labour
not under the same disadvantages. By
the active sports of childhood they have
their perceptions exercised. At liberty to
range abroad with their companions, their

CHAPTER I. 71

attention is called to the examination of a
variety of objects, and is often beneficially
exercised in providing means of escape
from the dangers into which, by their
rashness, they have been precipitated. Of
what importance this previous cultivation
of the perceptions is found, when school
education commences, I shall hereafter
have occasion to notice. It will at present
be sufficient to observe, that where, from
the circumstances in which a child has
been placed, the perceptions have been
permitted to remain dormant, the know-
ledge of letters will go but a short way in
supplying the defect.

In order to ascertain this, let us examine
how far the perceptions are cultivated in
learning to read.

The printed letters are objects of per-
ception to one of the senses, as the sound
on pronouncing them is to another ; but
that it requires attention, in order to ren-

72 ESSAY IT.

der the perception of them in either in-
stance accurate, is well known to all who
have at any time taken the trouble to teach
a child its letters.

By the attention given, the perceptions
are no doubt exercised. So they would be
exercised, though not perhaps in the same
degree, by learning to distinguish between
the tongs and poker. When the pupil ad-
vances from letters to words, the demand
upon attention is considerably increased;
and it will be observed by all who are led
anxiously to watch the progress of mind,
that the increased exercise thus given to
the power of perception, has a very consi-
derable effect in expanding the faculties.
Were learning to read of no farther use, it
could not be pronounced useless.

But where the perceptions are only cul-
tivated on this one class of objects, reading
will, I apprehend, be attended with little
advantage : and for this reason, that before

CHAPTER I. 73

any notion of the meaning of what is read
can be conveyed to the mind, another
faculty must be called into exercise, which
it never is, but in proportion as the percep-
tions are vigorous and acute.

The truth of what has been here ad-
vanced may be easily ascertained. There
are still many schools in which, by the
method of teaching, the perceptions are
never exercised, but on the shape and
sound of letters, and combination of letters.
Let the scholars in such schools be examin-
ed on their conception of the meaning of
what they read, and it will be found, (as
far as my experience extends it has been
invariably found), that the conception is
accurate in exact proportion to the degree
in which the power of perception had been
exercised in infancy, by attention to sur-
rounding objects. Thus, in large towns,
especially in countries where the lower
orders are the reverse of cleanly, the boys,
for reasons before stated, will be found to

74 ESSAY II.

have so much the advantage of the girls,
with respect to a ready apprehension of the
meaning of what they read, as to seem en-
dowed with superior intelligence.

But how is the evil to he remedied ?
How is the defect produced by habits of
sluggish attention to be supplied? Is it ne-
cessary that every village dame, and every
parish domine, and every master and mis-
tress of a charity school, should study the
philosophy of the human mind? I answer,
that every person capable of filling these
situations with credit, is already in posses-
sion of all the knowledge that is requisite ;
and that all they want, is to learn to apply
the knowledge they possess. Let us in-
quire of these persons, and we shall find
that there is not a faculty of the human
mind with whose powers they are not in
some degree acquainted; and though the
terms by which they express them may be
very different from those of the philosopher,
their definitions are in general sufficiently

CHAPTER I. 75

correct. In describing the characters of
their pupils, they will not say that the per-
ceptions of this one are dull and languid,
or that that other is deficient in the powers
of conception, judgment, or imagination;
but they will tell, that this one is so stupid
he takes no notice of any thing, and that
the other is so senseless he cannot take up
the meaning of a word that is said.

Question him a little farther, and he will
confess,*" that even the child least capable of
taking notice, has been compelled to take
so much notice of the letters, as to be able
to pronounce them at sight, and may, step
by step, be brought on to read, which is all
that he desires to accomplish. How far the
merely being enabled to pronounce the
sounds of words, on seeing them in print,
will contribute to prepare him for the per-
formance of his several duties, while the
perceptions remain torpid, from never hav-
ing had farther exercise, is no concern of
his. But ought those who take an interest

7t> ESSAY II.

in the instruction of the poor to take no
farther interest in the subject ? Should it
not, on the contrary, be a primary concern
with them to render school education the
means of supplying the deficiencies of home
instruction, by remedying those mental de-
fects that are, under certain circumstances,
inevitably contracted?

Why not engage the teacher to try
other methods besides the stated lesson,
to awaken the perceptions of the* stupid ?
This I conceive would, to a certainty, be
effected by methods so simple, that they
are, for that very reason, held in contempt.*
But if, in tracing the cause of stupidity in

* In appreciating the superior advantages to be de-
rived from this or that mode of teaching, the degree in
which it is calculated to awaken and exercise the per-
ceptions is too seldom taken into the account. Between
two plans that are in other respects equal, the pre-
ference seems to me to be undoubtedly due to that,
which, while it keeps the attention in a state of perpetual
requisition, gives it that direction most favourable for the
development of the infant faculties.

CHAPTER I. 77

children of a certain class, it is found to
originate in circumstances which have pre-
vented attention to the objects of percep-
tion, it is only by producing attention to
those objects that the defect can be reme-
died. In this respect infinitely more will
be done, by teaching a child to notice every
object within the reach of vision, and to
mark every minute change that takes place
in the form, colour, or situation of the things
around him, than by fixing his attention to
the mere form of letters. The children
whose perceptions are already quick and
lively, may, with advantage to themselves,
be rendered instrumental in cultivating in
others the power of observation ; and both
will thus be so prepared for the further
exercise of attention in the book lessons, as
to enable them to reap from it a greater
benefit than they would otherwise have
done.

As in every species of labour dexterity is
only to be attained by the exercise of per-

78 ESSAY II.

ception, it seems wonderful, that, in the
education of the labouring classes, so little
pains should be taken to cultivate that
faculty which is to them so essential. That
this important faculty will be more bene-
ficially exercised, by such a habit of atten-
tion to surrounding objects, as shall enable
a young person to see at a glance how
many forms or chairs are in his school-
room, and whether they be clean or dirty,
whole or broken, than by learning to tell
from books how many planets are in the
heavens, there can I think be no ques-
tion. But much as depends upon its cul-
tivation, it is only accidentally and with-
out design that it is ever cultivated; and
the consequence is, that where infancy
has been passed in situations unfavourable
to its development, it remains defective
through life.

79

CHAPTER II.

Subject continued. Effects of a partial cultivation of
the faculty of .perception exemplified in various cha-
racters. Views of its consequences in domestic life.

every class above that which depends
on manual labour for support, the percep-
tions are, during the period of infancy, im-
perceptibly cultivated in some degree by
the variety of objects presented to the at-
tention. That they are, however, in many
instances, even in these favourable circum-
stances, frequently defective, and that the
defect arises from their partial cultivation,
is evident, from observing the number of
persons who, among the infinite variety of
objects placed before their eyes, are blind
to all but the objects of that particular
class to which they have long and habitu-
ally directed a particular attention.

80 ESSAY II.

Among the vain, frivolous, and unculti-
vated of my own sex, attention is chiefly
directed to dress. The perceptions with
regard to every change of fashion, and
every minute particular in the form, colour,
and arrangement of personal ornaments
and decorations, will, in such persons, be
found astonishingly acute. Neither bead
nor bugle will escape their notice. But
let us not imagine that, if the attention
has been thus engrossed, the perceptions
with regard to other objects will be found
equally lively. No. The same person
whose perceptions, with regard to every
article of dress, are in the utmost perfec-
tion, may possibly be so void of perception,
with regard to other objects, as to pass
many of the most striking, both in the
works of nature and of art, without per-
ceiving their existence. Nay, so deficient
may she be in point of observation, even
with regard to objects that are continually
before her eyes, as to be unconscious of the
existence of those articles with which the

t
CHAPTER II. 81

carelessness of servants or children may
have littered her apartments.

In the middle walk of life, the woman
whose perceptions have been thus partially
cultivated is, in some respects, less quali-
fied for performing those duties which in-
clude attention to domestic economy in
all its branches, than if she were entirely
blind. For, in the latter case, the more
vigilant exercise of attention would com-
pensate in a great measure for the defi-
ciency ; whereas, in the former case, atten-
tion is absorbed by the class of objects to
which it has been exclusively directed.
Nor will the consequences, to those who
are connected with her in domestic life, be
much less fatal, though the objects that
absorb her attention be of a superior class.

The same want of perception, exemplified
in the woman whose attention has been
occupied by dress, may, alas ! be sometimes
observed in minds of higher order. How

VOL. i. F

82 ESSAY II.

often, with grieved hearts, have we listened
to comments on the effects of this defi-
ciency, produced in triumph as decided
proof of the pernicious, but inevitable, con-
sequences of directing the female mind to
the acquirement of superior knowledge or
superior taste.

If, in order to obtain superior knowledge,
or superior taste, it were absolutely neces-
sary to forego attention to common and fa-
miliar objects, the argument would be in-
deed conclusive. But if, by directing the
attention to such objects, a quick perception
with regard to them may, even in infancy,
be acquired, and, if once acquired, will be
constantly and habitually exercised without
effort, and even without consciousness, may
we not reasonably conclude, that, in all
such instances as those to which I have
alluded, the deficiency complained of is the
consequence, not of any application of the
mind to literary acquirement, or of the cul-
tivation of its higher faculties, but to the

83

little pains that have been taken in early
life to awaken the perceptions. Never
shall we find reason to conclude that the
all- wise Creator has formed the human mind
on so limited a plan, as to render it necessary
to annihilate one faculty, in order to make
room for the operation of another !

Such, however, are frequently the effects
produced by a partial cultivation of the
faculties, as to induce a prevailing opinion,
that the operation of the first and most
essential is impeded, or circumscribed, by
the introduction of new ideas, which ne-
cessarily multiply the objects of attention.
It is, therefore, of great importance to the
interests of society, to shew on what false
foundations this opinion rests, and, by a
careful investigation of facts, to , prove,
that whenever the perceptions appear lan-
guid or defective, except with regard to
objects of one particular class, that the
defect arises from want of that cultiva-
tion of the faculty in early life, which it

84 ESSAY II.

receives from having the attention direct-
ed to the observation of all surrounding
objects.

Where habits of general observation have
not been thus acquired, we have reason to
believe that no part of the surrounding
objects are perceived, except in cases where
the attention is particularly directed to-
wards them for some particular purpose.
And as even men of science may sometimes
labour under this disadvantage, I shall,
from that respectable class, produce an
illustration.

A landscape painter, if deficient in
habits of general observation, while he
directs his attention towards those com-
binations of objects which are associat-
ed in his mind with the ideas of subli-
mity or beauty, observes not the peculia-
rities of the soil, nor of the plants which
cover it : he gazes on a mass of rock with-
out perceiving that it differs, except in

CHAPTER II. 85

respect of form, from any other rock ; and,
if a wretched human figure meets his eye,
thinks only of the picturesque effect of
the rags by which it is partially clothed.

Let us suppose him to be followed
through the same scene by a mineralogist,
whose perceptions have also been but par-
tially cultivated. With what insensibility
does he pass the venerable oak, whose tor-
tuous branches had at first sight attracted
the attention of the painter, and excited
his warmest admiration ? Whether cloth-
ed in the green livery of summer, or in the
sober tints of autumn; whether their ten-
der stems bend flexile before the breeze,
or their firm and stately trunks bid proud
defiance to the storm, the children of the
forest alike escape his notice. He may,
indeed, observe the form of the lofty
craggs which overhang the cataract, and,
if they serve to confirm his favourite
theory, will observe them with no small
interest ; but of the peculiarities which

86 ESSAY ir.

constitute, in the eye of taste, their subli-
mity or grandeur, he is quite unconscious.
Neither does he cast a glance towards the
ruins of the ancient castle which frowns
upon him from the brink of the steepy
rock ; nor hear the clamour of the noisy
daws, which, roused by the sound of his
hammer, fly tumultuous over his head.
The botanist, meanwhile, absorbed in the
objects of his own pursuit, visits the same
scene, and perceives in it nothing but the
plants of which he is in search.

" From giant oaks that wave their branches dark,

To the dwarf moss that clings upon their bark,"*
,ox-»id 3«0 •sttobd oiix.nft I»rt'j<f *rrt3J<i isb
not a single species among the vegetable
tribes escapes his observation : but creation
presents to his eye no other objects. If he
looks to the rocks, it is merely to observe
with what species of lichen they are cover-
ed : If he walks by the silver stream or
ii£*tf£ orr d.ilv tfrtrii •t-fit*fo i!iv/ MoajC}
*• DARWIN.

CHAPTER ;ii. 87

spreading lake, it is not to rejoice in their
beauty, for to him every stream and every
lake are the same, that are bordered by
plants of the same genus.

Such are the consequences of habitually
confining the attention to the examination
of any one distinct class of the objects of
perception, where habits of general obser-
vation have not been previously formed.
Had either the artist or the men of science
above described, been possessed of that
power of observation which arises from the
cultivation of the perceptions, it is evident
that the number of ideas which each re-
ceived in the course of his morning walk
must have been nearly tripled ; and they
would have been thus augmented without
any detriment to the peculiar object of pur-
suit ; for in such an astonishing degree does
habit facilitate the operation of attention,
that, especially with regard to the objects
of perception, it becomes involuntary, is
carried on, not only without effort, but

88 ESSAY II.

without consciousness. It must be confess-
ed, that among men of science instances of
limited observation are extremely rare; it
being among the advantages attending an
early taste for scientific pursuits, that it
affords a salutary exercise to the percep-
tions. And, accordingly, it is to the ob-
servation of men of science that we have
been chiefly indebted for such valuable
information, with respect to the countries
they have visited, as has added to the stock
of general knowledge, improved the public
taste, and increased the fund of our ra-
tional pleasures.

The importance of cultivating the power
of observation is indeed greater than we
can possibly conceive. It renders our lives
useful to others, and augments beyond cal-
culation the sum of our innocent enjoy-
ments.

Shall we then say, that the cultivation
of this power, important as it is to our fu-

CHAPTER II. 89

ture happiness, ought to be left to chance ?
Or what is yet worse, shall we continue to
applaud ourselves for depriving our chil-
dren of the chance of having it in some
degree cultivated, by the natural curiosity
which would not fail to direct their atten-
tion to external objects, instead of giving
to that natural curiosity a proper bent ?
Will all the wisdom that a child can gain
from books, will all the lessons he can
learn from masters, compensate to him for
losing the power of perceiving all that is
placed before his eyes ? But with judicious
management the cultivation of the percep-
tions, so far from interfering with those
branches of education concerning which we
are so exclusively anxious, may be made
to go hand in hand with them. Never,
however, where unfortunate children, after
having been cooped within the limits of
a nursery with ignorant domestics, are
turned over to the tutelage of pedants
of either sex, never will this primary and
essential faculty have a chance of being

90 ESSAY II.

brought forward. Nor does it fare much
better under the tutelage of parents of
superior description. In the anxiety for
improving the mind by knowledge, and for
storing the memory with facts and obser-
vations, persons of excellent sense are apt
to forget, that by directing the attention
exclusively to such objects, they cripple
and destroy that faculty on whose exer-
tions their children must ultimately de-
pend for the acquirement of new ideas.

I have already glanced at the disadvan-
tages attending a defect in the power of
observation in my own sex ; and, as that
defect cannot be deemed of trifling mo-
ment which disqualifies a person for the
performance of any essential duty, I shall
take the liberty of still more earnestly
urging the consideration of the subject
upon my female readers.
8?[i,i;'5'j. I jo 'J\>»>it»i »>./, "'Jii^J oj it)vo ivj'!,;'

The propriety of domestic arrangement
depends solely on the degree in which she

CHAPTER II. , 91

who presides at the head of the establish-
ment possesses the power of observation.
It is on the quickness of her perceptions,
that those who live beneath her roof are
dependent for every domestic comfort.
In these originate that perfection of order,
which in a well regulated family appears
to be the work of destiny or chance, so
effectually are the moving springs conceal-
ed from view. Where the perceptions
have been early exercised, this attention
to present objects operates with such cer-
tainty and celerity, that it interferes not
with the exercise of any of the faculties.
Where, on the other hand, the perceptions
have become obtuse, the exercise of them
is attended with sensible effort. Examples
of this are frequent in the middle walks of
life. There, from the limited number of
domestics, more incessant demands are
made on the attention of the mistress ;
and if, from the slowness of her percep-
tions, she is incapable of answering these
demands without renewed and conscious

92 ESSAY II.

effort, what anxiety, — what bustle, — what
everlasting to and fro, — what complaints
of the negligence of servants, — what chid-
ing,— in short, what misery ! I had rather
be a galley-slave than live with a good
woman of this description ! And yet, never-
theless, she merits praise and approbation ;
for, though she proves an intolerable an-
noyance to all around her, she is anxiously
bent on the performance of her duties.
How much then is it to be regretted that
she was not enabled to perform them with
ease?

Nor wilt the consequences be rendered
less unfavourable to her family or friends,
if, labouring under the same defect with
respect to the power of observation, she
makes no effort to direct her attention to-
wards domestic concerns. Her house will
be the abode of disorder and confusion.
At her ill provided board all will be either
bad or incongruous. Even should expense
be no object, though her house may abound

CHAPTER II. 9S

with luxuries, it will be destitute of com-
fort ; for if her perceptions are torpid, the
riches of the Indies will not supply the
deficiency. To casual guests, indeed, her
wit, her powers of conversation, or the
display of her acquired accomplishments,
may compensate for the absence of com-
fort ; but to her husband, her family, her
children, what compensation will they af-
ford?

I shall rejoice, if by these considerations
any of my readers are induced to take such
pains, in directing the attention of their
children, in early life, to the examination
of present objects, as shall produce in them
that quickness of observation, with regard
to such objects as cannot fail to prove
essentially useful throughout every period
of their future lives.

94 ESSAY II,

CHAPTER IIL

On the correspondence between the quickness of our
apprehension and the degree in which the faculty
of conception has been exercised by attention to the
objects of that faculty.

I HAVE, in a former Work,* been at much
pains to show that our conception of what
is described to us, with regard to sensible
objects, depends solely on the degree in
which we have exercised the power of
perception.

I now propose to make some farther re-
marks on that faculty of the mind, which,
when it operates with precision, enables us
to form clear and distinct notions of what

* Letters on the Elementary Principles of Education .
Vol. II.

CHAPTER.(fjr. 95

is related or described, either in books or
conversation.

We must all have observed, that among
individuals who are supposed to have had
the same advantages of education, the
power of apprehending, like that of per-
ceiving, is possessed in very different de-
grees : some, instantly and without effort,
seeing all the parts of a subject, which
it requires from others much effort and
labour to enable them to comprehend. On
such occasions the questions immediately
suggested are, whether this difference in
the quickness of apprehension between
those two persons be owing to the original
constitution of their minds, and that the
faculty of conception is naturally stronger
and more efficient in one of the parties
than in the other ? or, whether the diffe-
rence be merely accidental, originating in
circumstances which have impeded the
exercise of the faculty, and have of con-
sequence limited its operations ?

96 ESSAY ii.

According to my view of the subject, the
question, difficult as it appears, is capable
of easy solution. If we find that in every
instance, and upon all subjects, the con-
ceptions of the slow are equally defective,
we may safely refer the defect to original
conformation ; but if there be any subjects
on which it operates with facility, we may,
I think, with confidence, assert, that nature
has not been to blame, and that the faculty
has suffered through neglect or partial cul-
tivation.

When the usual routine of school exer-
cises have been relied upon as the sole
means of cultivating the power of concep-
tion, it will, with few exceptions, be found
dull and languid, except upon such subjects
as have accidentally been forced upon the
attention; and, with equally few exceptions,
shall we find a more extensive exercise
judiciously given to this faculty, in early
life, productive of ready apprehension and
quick discernment.

CHAPTER III. 97

That the faculty is capable of improve-
ment is from these examples evident. The
means of improving it is also, by such ex-
amples, rendered conspicuous. In order
to enable the mind readily to exercise the
faculty in question, the attention, it ap-
pears, must be early and habitually directed
to the objects of that faculty, or, in other
words, to the ideas presented to the mind
by what is seen, or heard, or read. When
this habit has been early acquired, ,the
power of conception will always be found
to operate with proportionate facility.
From being accustomed to pay attention
to the meaning of what is said or written,
on every subject within the limits of the
capacity that happens to be presented to
the youthful mind, all the difficulty and
labour attending the acquirement of new
ideas will be completely obviated. When,
on the other hand, habits of inattention,
with regard to the ideas presented in books
or conversation, have become inveterate,

VOL. i. G

98 ESSAY II.

nothing will be quickly apprehended or
clearly understood, except on the few sub-
jects which, from their perpetual recur-
rence, have in a manner forced themselves
on the attention.

When ideas of that particular class, to
which the mind has thus become familiar,
are presented, the power of conception
may nevertheless appear sufficiently vigo-
rous. Give, for example, to a young
lady who has been accustomed to novel-
reading, an account of a tender scene
between two unfortunate lovers. How
readily will she conceive all that you de-
scribe of the circumstances and situation
of the parties ! How easily will she enter
into the feelings of the tender pair ! Their
looks, their dress, their behaviour, will all
be present to her imagination, and, by the
strength of the impression which they
make, evince the power of the faculty
under consideration.

CHAPTER III. 99

But if, instead of such a scene, you pre-
sent to her one that is perhaps a thousand
times more interesting to your feelings, —
for instance, that of Marius contemplating
the ruins of Carthage ; where will now be
that quickness of conception which had,
in the former case, excited your admira-
tion? In vain will you represent to her
the circumstances and situation of the
hero : In vain will you endeavour to de-
scribe the vast variety 'of mixed emotions,
which, in the view of the scene before him,
swelled his heart. As to all conception of
these, you will find her stupid and impene-
trable as the clod beneath her feet. And
why this stupidity in a mind capable of
conceiving quickly and accurately all that
you had described on the former subject ?
For no other reason that can be given, but
because to ideas of the former class her
attention had been previously directed, and
by this partial exercise given to the faculty,
it had been fitted for this confined and
partial exertion.

100 ESSAY II.

Again, in every worshipful corporation
in the kingdom, we shall find men of quick
discernment in all that concern the pecu-
niary interests of the petty communities
over which they preside. Describe to such
men the advantages of a canal, or dock, or
railway, you will find their conceptions
upon the subject to be apt and lively ; but
change the discourse, and describe to them
the advantages which their town would
derive from improvements that would prove
sources of health and enjoyment to its in-
habitants, and think yourself happy if you
can find among them one that can com-
prehend your meaning. Speak of the
beauty of a shady walk, and they will in-
stantly calculate the value of the timber. —

«' Forth to the lofty oak they bring the square,
And span the massy trunk, before they cry 'tis fair ! "*

It rarely happens that those, who have
not at an early period of life been accus-

* SHENSTONE.

CHAPTER III. 10l

tomed to enter into the associations of
others, ever acquire that facility in dis-
cerning them which distinguishes the high-
bred men of the world. But this quick
conception of what is felt or conceived by
those with whom he con verses, is so essen-
tially requisite to the man of rank, who,
from his situation in society, is destined to
mingle with persons of various descriptions
of character, that attention to the signs
which indicate the feelings and notions
entertained by those with whom he con-
verses, becomes habitual to him, and is,
indeed, generally habitual to persons of ex-
alted station. The result of this direction
of attention is perfect good-breeding. It
is for the acquirement of this accomplish-
ment, (so necessary to the man of rank),
that attention to the feelings and concep-
tions of others is inculcated by his friends
and preceptors ; and, as it is his own glory,
his own advantage, that are held up as the
motives for attending to the objects in
question, attention is stimulated to exer-

102 ESSAY II.

tion as far as is necessary to accomplish
the end proposed. Thus, without one
feeling of sympathy, he learns to appear
completely to sympathize in the feelings,
the tastes, and sentiments, of those he de-
sires to please. Of these sentiments, and
tastes, and feelings, he seems to have an
intuitive perception, and, consequently,
fails not to insinuate himself into the
favour of all who are willing to be de-
ceived. Why does he not estimate the
value of the sentiments, nor pursue the
tastes, nor evince in his conduct any traces
of the sensibility which he seems so tho-
roughly to understand ? Because his at-
tention was never directed to their truth,
or propriety, or intrinsic value : it was
solely occupied in discovering their nature,
in order to render the knowledge of it
useful to himself. Independently of this
consideration, his conceptions of what is
generous, or noble, or amiable in sentiment
or conduct, are so dull and languid, that he
seems utterly incapable of discerning the

CHAPTER III. 103

excellence or utility of such modes of
thinking or acting.

Persons of this description seldom read
from any other motive than in order to
make a figure with their knowledge ; but
when they have any particular object in
view, the result of the attention which,
from this motive, they are induced to pay
to the subject they wish to appear masters
of, is conspicuous ; and, when the clearness
of their conceptions on this particular sub-
ject is compared with the confusion of
ideas which they betray on other points,
becomes truly astonishing. What advan-
tage they derive, from the knowledge of
which this casual application of attention
puts them in possession, it is not at pre-
sent our business to inquire; I only no-
tice the fact, as affording a proof, that
great deficiency in^ useful information,
and great slowness of apprehension, is not
so frequently to be ascribed to any pecu-
liar defect in the faculty of conception, as

104 ESSAY II.

to habitual inattention to the objects of
that faculty ; and that when the attention
is stimulated by any powerful motive to
a particular subject, though the exertion
be made with effort, it is never made with-
out effect.

By proper management the necessity of
effort would have been frustrated ; for the
mind having been accustomed to seek for,
and to obtain clear and distinct notions on
other subjects, would, without difficulty,
have comprehended all that was new or
peculiar in this particular one. But if we
admit, that we only obtain with facility
just and accurate conceptions on subjects
that have engaged much of our attention,
it may seem to fallow, that all which we
can do for the cultivation of this faculty,
is to acquire a great variety of knowledge.
The conclusion would, however, be erro-
neous. In our endeavours to cultivate and
strengthen it, either in ourselves or others,
the most effectual method we can adopt

CHAPTER III. 105

is, to acquire such command over the atten-
tion, as to keep it fixed on the subject in
hand, until the conceptions with regard to
it are clear and accurate. By hurrying
from subject to subject, we prevent the
mind from obtaining clear ideas upon any
subject. From our vain attempts at know-
ing every thing we know nothing. Of
the indistinct ideas thus huddled higgledy-
piggledy in the mind we can make no use.
When we talk or write upon any subject,
we are therefore obliged to have recourse
to the ideas of others ; and, whether they
be just or erroneous, true or false, we must
borrow them in the lump, for we are inca-
pable of examining or distinguishing them.

Our incapability, as it is not owing to
any deficiency in the mental powers, but
to a defect in the habit of mental applica-
tion, admits of remedy, and may be cured
even at a late period of life. If we set our
hearts on curing it, we must resolve never
to lay down a book which we think worth

106 ESSAY II.

our perusal, until we have obtained clear,
and distinct, and accurate ideas of the
author's meaning, and of all that he sug-
gests, or relates, or describes.* This effort
of attention will at first be painful. It
will produce a sense of fatigue which may
discourage us from proceeding in our at-
tempt. But let us remember what slight
degree of attention it now costs us to un-
derstand whatever relates to subjects with
which we have been long familiar, or that
have, to us a peculiar interest; and we may
assure ourselves, that by cultivating a
habit of attending to what we read or hear,
we shall in time be as unconscious of any
effort, in giving the degree of attention
necessary for obtaining clear ideas on sub-
jects which we have indolently imagined
beyond our reach, as on those with which
we are most conversant.

* In cultivating the faculty of conception, attention to
what passes in conversation is of infinite service, if it be
directed to the objects above described.

CHAPTER III. 107

A young gentleman resolutely bent on
self-improvement, might, by persevering
in this course, have the faculty of concep-
tion in his mind so strengthened by habi-
tual exercise, as to be able with as much
facility to comprehend the reasonings of
enlightened men, with regard to the inte-
rests of his country, as the conversation of
his huntsman, groom, or jockey, upon the
subjects of their several employments ; and
find as much entertainment from reading
the works of the best authors, as from
vkilling time in any of the modes prescrib-
ed or practised by the idle and the dissi-
pated.

Of the numbers of young men who, on
their entrance into life, give themselves
up to low and unworthy pursuits, I am
persuaded that by far the greater part are
driven to resort to them, not so much by
depravity of taste, as by the consciousness
of that defect, which renders it difficult for
them to acquire clear and distinct ideas on

108 ESSAY II.

subjects with which they have not heen
habitually familiar. The effort of atten-
tion is to them so painful, that they have
not .courage to attempt it; and, unwilling
to shew that they cannot obtain clear ideas
upon subjects that are understood by
others as soon as stated, they endeavour to
make it appear that their neglect of them
is voluntary : And to prove that it is not
from want of capacity, but from want of
inclination, that they do not apply their
minds to nobler pursuits, they proudly
display the quickness of their apprehension
in regard to those to' which they choose to
give their attention. Can we possibly
doubt, that if these young men found it as
easy to obtain clear ideas on every useful
and important branch of knowledge, as in
the trifling or ignoble arts to which they
direct their attention, that they would not
prefer the acquisition of the former ?

Even admitting them to be stimulated
solely by vanity, what young gentleman *

CHAPTER III. 109

would prefer the applause of grooms and
coachmen to the approbation of the en-
lightened and discerning ? or receive higher
gratification from the consciousness of be-
ing able to manage a certain number of
horses, than from the consciousness of pos-
sessing that superior knowledge which
must give him power and influence in
society ?

It is the dread of that pain, which,
wherever the faculty of conception has
not been duly cultivated, attends the effort
of attention necessary for its operation,
that determines his choice. Horses, and
all that relates to the management of
horses, have, from infancy, been to him
objects of attention ; and therefore, what-
ever new ideas he receives upon the sub-
ject, from the honourable fraternity of
grooms and jockeys, he conceives without
effort. Had he been accustomed, from in-
fancy, to give to every object which, in the
course of his education, was presented to

110 ESSAY II.

his mind, that degree of attention requisite
for enabling him to receive clear ideas
from such objects, there can, I think, be
little doubt, that the habitual exercise of
the faculty, would have given such faci-
lity to its operations, that the acquirement
of clear ideas upon one subject would have
been attended with no more difficulty
than the acquirement of clear ideas upon
another.

It is one of the greatest of the advanta-
ges attending the usual course of educa-
tion at public schools, that the attention
requisite for obtaining a knowledge of the
languages, gives such exercise to the con-
ception as must be extremely favourable
to the development of that faculty. But
if the attention be confined to points of
grammatical accuracy; if it be occupied
and absorbed by what relates merely to
the structure of language; and if never di-
rected towards the ideas contained in the
works of the poets or moralists, which are

CHAPTER HI. Ill

read with so much precision, and studied
with so much care, an essential part of the
advantages attending a classical education
will undoubtedly be lost. I pretend not
to say that it is always so ; but from the
examples given, am induced to conclude,
that the benefits of a classical education
are, in many instances, reduced to almost
nothing, from the little care that is taken
to exercise and strengthen the faculty of
conception in the acquirement of clear and
accurate ideas.

\

The same observations apply with still
greater force to the mode of instruction
usually adopted with regard to females.
From the dame's school in the country
village, to the great seminary where young
Jadies are taught every accomplishment,
the primary faculties of the mind are in-
jured by neglect. It seems to be the busi-
ness of governesses of all ranks and deno-
minations, to confine the attention to a
certain number of objects within a beaten

112 ESSAY II.

track ; and as those are all addressed to
the external senses, it is to objects of that
description only that attention can, without
effort, be directed at any period of life.
They read, but, from the little pains taken
to examine whether they understand what
they read, the habit of reading without
attention is acquired, and becomes perma-
nent. Books that require attention are
therefore never opened. Fictitious narra-
tive is the only species of literary compo-
sition from which such persons can derive
any amusement; and with it they are
amused, exactly in the same way that chil-
dren are amused with the tales of the
nurse, without observing in the description
either congruity or incongruity, or per-
ceiving in the moral tendency aught to
reprobate or approve. Even this source of
amusement is, by repetition, exhausted.
Tales of wonder cease to interest, and the
vacant mind, when the stimulating influ-
ence of society is withdrawn, sinks into
listless langour. Needle-work used for-

CHAPTER III. 113

merly, under such circumstances, to sup-
ply a salutary resource to females, in afford-
ing occupation to the heavy hours of soli-
tude. But accomplishments are only for
exhibition, and to uncultivated minds are
of no use, but as traps for admiration.
How then are the many hours of leisure
to be spent?

Many an amiable disposition is thus,
merely from being destitute of resources,
driven to the necessity of calling in the
aid of pernicious stimulants to give a zest
to existence. Let us reflect in what de-
gree their innocent resources would have
been multiplied, if, by having had the at-
tention exercised in early life in the acquire-
ment of ideas, they could, without effort,
have applied their minds to the pursuit of
knowledge. Let us reflect, that no subject
is dull that affords to the mind a supply of
new ideas ; and that, consequently, by giv-
ing the means of acquiring them at pleasure,
we increase the happiness of the indivi-

VOL. i. H

114 ESSAY II.

dual, and transfuse a sense of enjoyment
into every hour of existence.

I have already dwelt too long on this
part of my subject; but, before quitting it,
must 'beg leave to notice the effects pro-
duced by inattention to the development
of this faculty in early life, as prejudicial
to the moral character.

From the want of due care to make chil-
dren distinguish between the ideas present-
ed by memory, and those combinations
produced by their own conceptions, they
may be observed frequently to mistake the
one for the other; and thus it sometimes
happens, that habits of falsehood are acquir-
ed, which are never afterwards conquered.
I have heard an infant of five years of age
tell numberless stories, which he had con-
ceived in his own brain, and pondered over
until he mistook them for realities ; or at
least until he believed that they were sug-
gested by memory. I am persuaded that

CHAPTER III. 115

story-telling liars in general are under a
similar delusion ; and that, in all the lies
they utter, they have seldom any intention
to deceive, but are, on the contrary, im-
pressed at the moment with a sort of con-
viction of their truth. The most egre-
gious vanity could not produce this effect,
where the conceptions had been exercised
in distinguishing between truth and false-
hood. It were vain to seek for a more
convincing proof of the importance of
watching over the development of the
faculty of conception !

116 ESSAY II.

CHAPTER IV.

Agency of attention in cultivating the faculty of
judgment, illustrated by a variety of examples.

THE total inefficiency of the faculty of
judgment,* wherever it occurs, is almost
universally considered as a proof of some
original defect in the constitution of the
mind. That it may fairly, in many in-
stances, be ascribed to this cause, I shall

* Although I have treated of perception, conception,
and judgment, as if they were always distinct operations
of the mind, I am sensible that their operations are often
so blended and simultaneous as to prevent our being
conscious of the distinction. Judgment is, indeed, a
necessary ingredient of perception, and in the exercise
of the perceptions that it has its rudiments. In its
maturer form it is exercised on the conceptions or
notions received, not only from our external senses, but
from reflection.

CHAPTER IV. 117

not take upon me to deny. But if, in in-
stances in which it is found capable of
operating to a certain length, we find
that this capability has been derived from
the exercise of attention upon certain ob-
jects, we may safely conclude, that had
attention been more widely exercised, the
faculty of judgment would have been ren-
dered capable of further exertion.

The arguments employed by the disco-
verers of the new world, in support of their
assertion with regard to the natural infe-
riority of the Indian race, presents us with
an example in point. These are given at
large by a celebrated historian, from whose
account of South America many passages
might be selected for the purpose of eluci-
dation. Speaking of the scattered tribes,
Dr Robertson observes, that, " their vacant
countenances ; their staring inexpressive
eye ; their lifeless inattention ; their total
ignorance of subjects which seem to be the
first that should occupy the thoughts of

118 ESSAY II.

rational beings, made such impression upon
the Spaniards, when they first beheld these
rude people, that they considered them as
animals of an inferior order, and could not
believe that they belonged to the human
species."

We are afterwards informed, that, to
put the matter beyond all doubt, an ex-
periment was made on the faculties of
the natives, which all the Spaniards inte-
rested in the result confidently asserted to
be decisive. A number of these wretched
beings, now sinking under the Spanish
yoke, and dispirited by oppresion, were
collected and settled in two villages,
where they were left at perfect liberty
to exert their talents in cultivating the
ground for their own advantage. Instead
of enjoying a situation, which Spanish la-
bourers would have found most eligible,
they seemed insensible to its comforts;
and though removed from under the im-
mediate controul of their masters, seemed

CHAPTER IV. 1 19

still to languish for freedom. They nei-
ther adopted the Spanish modes, nor made
use of the Spanish tools; nor did they culti-
vate the ground according to the Spanish
method, though so obviously superior to
their own ; but, from being utterly incapa-
ble of assuming new habits, neither evinced
solicitude concerning futurity, nor fore-
sight in providing for its wants. The
Spaniards required no further proof of
their intellectual deficiency, which they
thenceforth pronounced radical, and conse-
quently incurable.

But, before coming to this decision, the
experiment ought to have been carried a
little farther : The Spanish Governor and
his attendants ought to have accompanied
an equal number of Indians into the wilds
in which the latter had been accustomed
to roam, and, laying aside their European
garments, have followed their companions
through pathless forests, in quest of the
game on which they were to subsist.

120 ESSAY II.

How quickly would their notion of the
radical defects in the mental constitution
of the newly discovered race have vanished,
on perceiving that " hardly any device,
which the ingenuity of man has discovered
for ensnaring or destroying wild animals,
was to them unknown?" With what asto-

•

nishment must they have beheld them-
selves surpassed in discernment and saga-
city by the objects of their contempt?
Then, without doubt, was the time to
form an opinion of the degree in which
nature had endowed them with those fa-
culties which characterize our species.

" While engaged in this favourite ex-
ercise," says the historian, " they shake off
the indolence peculiar to their nature, the
latent power and vigour of their minds
are roused, and they become active, perse-
vering, and indefatigable. Their sagacity
in finding their prey, and their address in
killing it, are equal. Their reason and
their semes being constantly directed to-

CHAPTER IV. 121

wards this one subject, the former displays
such fertility of invention, and the latter
acquire such a degree of acuteness, as ap-
pear almost incredible. They discern the
footsteps of a wild beast, which escape
every other eye, and can follow them with
certainty through the pathless forest. If
they attack their game openly, their arrow
seldom errs from the mark ; if they endea-
vour to circumvent it by art, it is almost
impossible to avoid their toils. Among
several tribes their young men were not
permitted to marry, until they had given
such proofs of their skill in hunting, as
put it beyond doubt that they were capa-
ble of providing for a family. Their inge-
nuity always on the stretch, and sharpened
by emulation as well as necessity, has
struck out many inventions which greatly
facilitate success in the chase."

In this display of the operation of their
faculties we have a very striking demon-
stration of the agency of attention. As ifc

1S2 ESSAY II.

is to certain classes of external objects that
the attention of the savage is exclusively
directed, it is only on such classes of ob-
jects that his discernment and judgment
can operate; but even in this partial opera-
tion of these faculties, we have sufficient
evidence of their existence ; and wherever
judgment is capable of operating on any
particular class of objects, or in any given
direction, we have reason to conclude, that
its apparent deficiency, when applied to
other subjects, is occasioned by defective
cultivation.

Thus, in my own sex we may sometimes
perceive unerring judgment, with regard to
propriety of manners and of dress, and of
all the minute detail of domestic economy,
in persons who, in other respects, are so
deficient in judgment, as to be incapable of
distinguishing in affairs of moment between
right and wrong.

;!'•":*:' Tiir r4rrJs yvjy jj- vrftil •> t

Women of this description generally give
themselves, and indeed receive from the

CHAPTER IV. 123

world, great credit for their extraordinary
prudence and decorum. But in the educa-
tion of their children something more than
prudence and decorum is requisite. The
judgment that has been merely exercised
on external objects cannot be prepared to
decide on the true interests, or even appre-
ciate the faculties of intelligent beings ;
far less can it distinguish the means by
which these interests may best be promot-
ed, and those faculties most effectually
improved. Accordingly, we shall find,
that where the exercise of judgment has
been thus limited in the mother, the chil-
dren are, in most instances, not only desti-
tute of mental cultivation, but often defec-
tive in moral principle, and this notwith-
standing the imposing appearance of deco-
rum and propriety, which, when children,
they were forced to assume.

We may reverse the picture, and it will
exhibit a repetition of the same pheno-
mena under different aspects. When, by

124 ESSAY II.

any fatal neglect or mismanagement in the
early part of life, the attention has been
prematurely absorbed by any branch of
science, or any subject of reasoning, it is
upon such objects that the judgment, as
well as the conceptions, will have been
exclusively exercised ; and upon such
subjects alone will it be found qualified to
decide. The observations made by females
of this description, upon the branches of
science, or subjects of reasoning, to which
their attention has been directed, will often
be found admirably judicious. To such
persons will their friends resort for advice
in all cases of difficulty and importance.
Nor will their advice be less valuable, or
less to be relied on, on account of the great
want of judgment which they may perhaps
evince in many parts of their own conduct.
To common things, to those minute ob-
jects which enter into, and make up the
current business of the day, their attention
had never been directed. On them their
judgment had never been so far exercised

CHAPTER IV. 125

as to enable them to discriminate between
the proper and the improper, the right and
the wrong.

In neither of the instances given does
the faculty of judgment appear in itself to
be defective. As far as the attention has
been directed, it appears, on the contrary,
to have been capable of operating with
great effect ; and I think there can be no
doubt, that if, in either instance, the direc-
tion given to the faculty of attention had
been reversed, the characters would have
likewise been reversed; or that if, in either
instance, the attention, instead of having
been exclusively directed to one class of
objects, had been judiciously led from one
to the other, the judgment would with
facility have been exercised on both.

Among the many glorious results of a
free constitution, one of the most impor-
tant to individuals is that of the opportu-
nity it affords, not only to the exercise,

126 ESSAY II.

but to the cultivation of judgment; and
this by directing the attention to a multi-
plicity of objects, toward which, in despotic
states, it is peremptorily forbid to turn.
Does the faculty of judgment appear to be
weakened by this extensive exercise ? No ;
it, on the contrary, is evidently strength-
ened and improved ; and the greater the
number of the objects of judgment to
which the attention is directed, the more
conspicuous will be the improvement. To
no other cause than this can we ascribe the
manifest superiority, in point of judgment,
observable in the peasantry of Protestant
countries, over persons of the same class
in Roman Catholic states ; and this even
when the governments are equally arbi-
trary. It is not then to be wondered at,-
that, under our own happy constitution, of
which civil and religious liberty form the
secure and solid basis, the capability t of
exercising the faculty of judgment should
be more widely diffused, and enjoyed by a
greater number of individuals than in any

CHAPTER IV. 127

other nation of Europe. Hence our supe-
riority in every species of manufacture,
towards the execution of which something
more is requisite than the mere perceptions
of the copiest. This I take to be the case,
wherever the machinery employed is of so
complicated a nature, as to require in its
application the exercise of judgment; and
I the more readily adopt this opinion, from
the consideration of circumstances commu-
nicated to me by a gentleman, whose name
will long be celebrated, as connected with
some of the most valuable of the mechani-
cal improvements that have been the boast
of the eighteenth century. On speaking
to him on the subject of these then recent
inventions, I took occasion to ask, whether
he did not think that some of the nations
on the continent, the French in particular,
would be likely, by inveigling a number of
the workmen from ****? .and getting mo-
dels of the machinery, contrive to rival that
as yet unrivalled manufactory ? I was thus
answered. " No, Madam, of that we have

128 ESSAY II.

not the slightest apprehension. The at-
tempt you speak of has been already made.
Our workmen they have contrived to in-
veigle; our machinery they have contrived
to imitate; and, while the workmen who set
it a-going remained with them, it seemed
tolerably to succeed; but no sooner did
they leave them, (and they could not be
induced long to stay), than the whole went
to wreck : They had no heads to contrive
how to set things to right that had once
gone wrong. The scheme was in conse-
quence given up ; the place deserted ; and
all the expensive machinery suffered to
rust and rot, as it is doing at the present
hour."

I may be pardoned for making a few
observations on a subject of such impor-
tance, as I am aware that, from the gross
ignorance and depravity of the greater
number of those employed in our English
manufactories, a plausible objection may
be brought against the conclusion I am

CHAPTER IV. 129

anxious to establish. But, though it be
acknowledged that the most effective work-
men are often the most profligate, and that
these are stimulated to work, by no other
motive than that of procuring, by their
labour, the means of sensual gratification, it
must be remembered, that persons of this
description are regarded by their employers
as parts of the machinery, and that it is by
workmen of superior character that these
inferior wheels are set in motion. It is on
the knowledge and judgment of these few
that the master manufacturer depends for
his success. He succeeds ; and, if he be a
man of narrow mind, cares not how vicious
the propensities are, which, in the lower
orders, operate as an incentive to exertion.
Imagining his interest to be concerned in
promoting these propensities, he dreads
the introduction of principles that would
check or control the sensual appetites, im-
prove the judgment, and convert the living
tool into a rational agent. But, happily,
more enlightened views now very generally

VOL. I. I

130 ESSAY II.

prevail. Experience has proved, that mo-
tives of a higher and more generous nature
may be no less operative than those that
are brutal and vicious ; and that, in propor-
tion as the capability of exerting the men-
tal energies has been extended, industry
and application have been substituted for
those violent but transient efforts produc-
ed by the avidity for sensual indulgence.

It has been found, that in proportion as
the judgment has been enlightened by
education, attention has been providently
directed towards the future, and that the
desire of respect, or distinction, or honour-
able independence, acts with no less vigour
than the desire of present enjoyment. It
is only by cultivation ,that the sphere of
judgment can be thus enlarged ; and I am,
I confess, extremely anxious for the esta-
blishment of this point, as I consider it to
be one in which the interests of society
are deeply involved ; for, if the judgment is
to be. improved in exact proportion as the

CHAPTER IV. 131

objects on which it is exercised are multi-
plied, it affords an unanswerable argument,
not only for extending the advantages of
education, but for permitting the freedom
of discussion to all orders and classes in
the community.

But to return from this digression, to
consider a few more instances of the effects
arising from the partial direction given to
the power of attention, in partially invigo-
rating the judgment, and they shall be
taken indiscriminately from different ranks
and descriptions of persons.

The exercise of judgment is, in many
instances, eminently conspicuous in the
works of the painter and the poet. No
work of either kind, in which it is not con-
spicuous, ever yet obtained more than
ephemeral applause. But do these poets
and painters, who have exhibited the most
irresistible proofs of judgment in their
compositions, invariably show the same

132 ESSAY II.

superiority of judgment in the conduct
and business of life? In some unfortunate
instances we have had.convincing evidence
to the contrary ; and, on examining these
instances, we shall have ample reason to con-
clude that the faculty of judgment, what-
ever original vigour it might possess, was
confined in its operations to that particular
class of objects to which the attention had
been exclusively directed. Hence appears
the inconsiderate folly of those who imagine
that the man who has evinced penetration
and judgment in his verses, will necessarily
evince the same qualities in the manage-
ment of important enterprises. A great
statesman may, it is true, make very pretty
verses, for on no man was the epithet great
ever deservedly bestowed, who had not all
the powers of the mind in that state of
perfection which argues their being capa-
ble of varied, and almost unlimited, exer-
cise^ and, if a mind of this high order does
not excel in poetry, or any species of com-
position, it is only because the desire of

CHAPTER. IV. 133

excelling in those elegant arts has no place
in it, and, consequently, it is only inci-
dentally that they engage its attention.
The mere poet, on the other hand, how-
ever highly his talents may have been
applauded, will evince the weakness of
his judgment, as soon as he steps out of
that line to which the exercise of it had
been habitually confined.

Even in persons whose judgment has
been most effectually cultivated, we may
still observe how much the facility of its
operations depends on the direction given
to the power of attention. Illustrious ex-
amples might be given of men who excell-
ed in oratory, and who, nevertheless, have
miserably failed in literary composition;
while, on the other hand, we have nume-
rous instances of men, who, in their writ-
ings, exhibit incontestable proofs of their
having acquired the utmost command of
language, and the greatest felicity of ex-
pression, and who yet are incapable of

134 ESSAY II.

speaking with tolerable accuracy. Now,
there can be no doubt that the proper
selection of words, either in public speak-
ing or in writing, is an exercise of judg-
ment. But, as the same form of expression
which best. suits the purposes of the orator,
would by no means be suitable to the phi-
losopher or historian, the attention will, in
either instance, be directed towards those
combinations which, when clothed in ap-
propriate language, are calculated to make
that sort of impression which he desires to
effect. His judgment will consequently be
habitually exercised in the same direction,
and in those, as in every other instance,
will be found to operate with more or less
facility, according to the degree of atten-
tion that has been bestowed.

135

CHAPTER V.

On the agency of atttntion in cultivating the power of
reasoning. Effects of a partial cultivation of this
power exemplified. Inference.

WE are apt to consider the power of
abstract reasoning, and also the powers of
taste and fancy, as gifts which nature has
bestowed with a sparing hand; and that
they have in every age been only conferred
on a few of her chosen favourites. But if
the statements I have made be admitted as
correct, the rareness of the instances in
which those faculties appear pre-eminent,
will not be admitted as conclusive proof of
nature's partiality.

The attention of the great mass of man-
kind ever has, and ever will be, directed
towards other classes of objects than those

136

ESSAY II.

which are within the immediate province
of the faculties just now mentioned. In
conducting the routine of business, they are
seldom found so requisite as to force atten-
tion to those objects on which they alone
can be exercised, and by which alone they
can consequently be improved.

If, then, the direction given to the power
of attention be in a line diametrically oppo-
site to the objects on which these faculties
are to operate, we have a sufficient cause
for their non-operation, and have no reason
to lay the blame on nature. This may be
farther illustrated, by examining a few of
the many instances in which the powers of
reasoning, taste, and fancy, have a partial
operation, and are readily exercised on some
peculiar class of objects, but seem totally
inefficient when applied to others equally
within the province of the same faculty.

Let us observe, in the first place, the
effects produced by directing the atteii-

CHAPTER V. 137

tion, in every process of reasoning, exclu-
sively to the strict and proper meaning of
words. Words are the signs by which the
ideas signified are to be conveyed to the
mind, and, consequently, towards the exer-
cise of the power of reasoning, attention to
the force and meaning of the terms em-
ployed is indispensably requisite. With-
out such attention we can neither reaso«
nor understand the reasonings of others.

But if attention be exclusively directed
to the signification of words and terms,
it will be only concerning the meaning of
words that the power of reasoning will be
found to operate. The reasonings of such
a person, with regard to the propriety or
impropriety of adopting certain phrases, or
certain modes of expression, will, in all
probability, be just and accurate ; but it is
as probable that his reasonings, on the truth
or falsehood of a proposition in politics,
morals, or divinity, will be weak, inconclu-
sive, or absurd. They can scarcely, indeed,

138 ESSAY II.

be otherwise, if, instead of attending to
the sense in which the terms of the propo-
sition are evidently stated, he takes them
in another sense; and into this error, from
the previous habits of his mind, he will be
extremely liable to fall.

A similar consequence will result from
habitually confining the attention to any
particular field of inquiry, or any particular
mode of reasoning. It is thus, that among
great scholars we sometimes meet with
men, who comprehend not the force of any
arguments that are not formed on the
model of their particular school. To per-
sons of this description wisdom will cry
in vain, if she does not send her voice
from the rostrum ; and truth will pass un-
known, unless she be arrayed in the dress
in which they have been accustomed to
contemplate her. It may likewise be ob-
served, that the same cause which prevents
them from discovering truth out of the
limits of their own school, renders them

CHAPTER V.

extremely apt to be imposed upon by phan-
toms dressed in its garb, when these happen
to appear where they take it for granted that
truth has fixed her constant residence.

In every such instance we shall find,
that attention, instead of having been
directed towards the examination of those
ideas which form the basis of the argu-
ment, has been occupied by certain parti-
culars that have no necessary connexion
with the point in question. This is ren-
dered especially evident, as soon as they
begin to reply to the arguments that have
been urged, in support of opinions to
which they have conceived an aversion,
and which they believe it easy to refute.
But in vain do they arm themselves for
the combat : in vain do they, in attacking
the adversary, put forth all their strength.
From being incapable of taking a full view
of what they combat, they never direct
their blows so as even to hit what they
intend to destroy.

140 ESSAY II.

When two disputants of this description
stand up as the champions of their respec-
tive parties, the contest becomes very
amusing to a by-stander. Like two ships
of war coming to an engagement under
the direction of blind men, they waste
their fury on the air, but are each so
delighted with the noise of their own can-
non, that, in listening to its roar, they
assure themselves of victory ; and, after
having fired a few harmless rounds, sail
away in triumph, each with equal truth
boasting of his conquest. Let us now
examine the cause. The degree of atten-
tion which the young student finds it
requisite to give, before he can thoroughly
understand the nature of a simple proposi-
tion, is at first made with effort, more or
less difficult, according as his apprehension
is more or less acute. But when attention
to the ideas contained in the questions
proposed to him has been sa repeatedly
given, as to become habitual, the effort
which it formerly cost is forgotten; and

CHAPTER V. 141

he thenceforth finds it as easy to discern
the whole scope and tenor of the proposi-
tion addressed to his reason, as to behold
what is placed before his eyes.

When this facility has not been acquired
by habit, no proposition will be understood,
without such an effort of attention as few,
who believe themselves arrived at the years
of wisdom, will bestow. By such, there-
fore, the whole of the ideas contained in any
one of the links which form the chain of
the speaker's argument, will never be dis-
cerned. Attention will never be directed
to those : the effort would be too painful.
How much more painful and laborious to
examine the relation of the several proposi-
tions to each other, so as to discover their
agreement or disagreement ! There remains
then but one alternative. Persons who
have not, by habitual attention, acquired a
facility in discerning the ideas which form
the substance of a question, must either
totally decline discussing the questions, of

142 ESSAY II.

whose merits they are thus necessarily
ignorant, or they must speak of them
according to the notions conceived of them
in their own imaginations. The less they
have been accustomed to examine and to
annalyze, the more liable will they be to
adopt the latter alternative. Hence the
prevalence of prejudice and self-deception.
Hence, too, one of the greatest and most
formidable of the impediments which retard
the progress of truth.

It may justly be reckoned among the
merciful dispensations of Providence, that
by the constitution of our minds we are,
when incapable of fully exercising any one
of the intellectual faculties, incapable also
of being rendered sensible of the defi-
ciency. The person whose perception of
external objects is defective, will acknow-
ledge that the objects pointed out to his
observation were not perceived by him in
that particular instance, but is not sensible
that he does not, in general, make as good

CHAPTER V, 143

use of his senses as others do. The same
may be observed with respect to all the
other intellectual powers : but it is with
regard to the power of reasoning, that this
unconsciousness of our own deficiency is
productive of the most unpleasant and
pernicious consequences ; for where we
are incapable of discerning the agreement
or disagreement between ideas, there is no
possibility of convincing us that those
which we suppose to be inseparable have
no connexion, or the reverse.

Hence arises the eternal disputations
carried on by persons who are utterly in-
capable of examining the real merits of the
question in dispute. Hence the confidence
with which the wise in his own conceit
utters the pompous nothings which he
mistakes for arguments of weight irresist-
ible. Hence the violence with which
people espouse one side or other, where
the matter in debate is beyond their capa-
city to comprehend, and concerning which

144 ESSAY II.

they are utterly destitute of the necessary
information.

I make no doubt, that in the society of
men, instances of this sort may sometimes
occur; but in female society their occur-
rence is certainly not un frequent. Is it
not, then, a powerful argument for the
cultivation of the reasoning faculty, that it
would put an end to the vain attempts at
reasoning upon subjects, concerning which,
from our situation or circumstances, we can
only obtain limited and partial information ?
Knowing by experience the degree of at-
tention it required to enable us to investi-
gate the subjects we have thoroughly exa-
mined, we shall certainly not be forward to
decide on those which we have had no op-
portunity to examine or investigate. Hav-
ing obtained clear views of such subjects
as we have applied our minds to, we shall
not think ourselves entitled to pronounce
on those of which we can only have a
glimpse.

CHAPTER V. 145

These considerations ought to have some
weight, in balancing the advantages to be
derived to both sexes from the cultivation
of that faculty, whereby we are enabled
to make any advances in the discovery of
truth, or in the acquisition of useful know-
ledge. It is indeed professedly the prime
object in the education of young men.
When, therefore, young men,, after all the
pains bestowed, are still incapable of reason-
ing justly, are we thence to conclude, that
the inability arises from a natural defect in
the intellect ? " This," to answer the ques-
tion in the words of Mr Locke, " is the
case of very few. The greater number is
of those, whom the habit of never exert-
ing the thoughts has disabled : the powers
of their minds are starved by disuse, and
have lost that reach and strength which na-
ture fitted them to receive from exercise."*

It is not impossible that years may be
spent at a university, without acquiring

. * LOCKE on the Conduct of the Understanding.
VOL. I. K

146 ESSAY II.

that quick perception of truth which is
the great desideratum towards sound rea-
soning. The knowledge of mathematical
science, which is generally deemed an all-
sufficient aid in the cultivation of the rea-
soning powers, will, according to my view
of the subject, be seen to afford only
partial assistance in their cultivation. By
habitual attention to the ideas contained
in propositions that are capable of demon-
stration, the mind will acquire a facility in
discerning truths of that particular class.
But though habit may have rendered this
peculiar exercise of attention easy and de-
lightful, if attention has never been directed
to truths of another description, these will
not be discovered without effort ; and the
man who piques himself on his quick dis-
cernment of truths that are susceptible of
demonstration, will, of all others, be least
inclined to make an effort for the purpose
of ascertaining probabilities.

In this opinion I have the happiness of
being supported by an authority, which will

CHAPTER V. 14?

have deserved weight with such of my
readers as know how much good sense,
just reasoning, and exquisite taste, has
been comprised within the narrow compass
of the small treatise to which I refer.
" Such," says my estimable friend, " such
is the clearness, such the irrefragable and
indisputable evidence of mathematical de-
monstration, that it may be doubted, whe-
ther those who are perpetually accustomed
to contemplate it, may not resemble per-
sons who have never been used to view
objects of sight except in the most lumi-
nous point of view possible ; the sensibility
of the organsj in both cases, is liable to be
impaired by the force of frequently repeat-
ed and very strong impressions. On this
principle it has been remarked, that many
very eminent mathematicians, committing
themselves on other subjects, have mani-
fested no superior powers of reasoning or
argument ; the lighter, and even the stron-
ger shades of evidence, appeared to have
escaped them : dealing in their proper vo-

148 ESSAY II.

cation only with certainties, they become
less qualified to judge of probabilities ; and
never having occasion to settle the mean-
ing of any disputed term, they are less
qualified to mingle in a debate, the issue
of which depends on the correct use of
terms, having, perhaps, in common and
philosophical language, several different
acceptations."*

It may, on the other hand, be observed,
that where attention has been solely occu-
pied in weighing or examining the form of
evidence, on subjects that admit not of
demonstration, the mind will rarely acquire
that accuracy and precision which have to
the mathematical student become habitual.
Hence the advantage of exercising the at-
tention on every various species of know-
ledge. If the power of reasoning be in-

* See three' Discourses on Literary Taste, delivered
at the Anniversary Meetings of the Literary Society at
Chichester, by the President.

CHAPTER V. 149

deed the glory of our nature, whatever
tends to give us the enjoyment of that
power ought to be held precious ; but if,
with all the advantages of superior edu-
cation, men sometimes exhibit proofs of
habitual inattention to the agreement or
disagreement of ideas, in their own reason-
ings, or in the reasonings of others, it is
not surprising that women should still
more frequently be incapable of reasoning
Avith accuracy or precision.

Even where great pains and care is be-
stowed on the cultivation of the female
mind, it is seldom these are calculated to
enable the object of them to exert her own
reason in the discovery of truth. Our
chief aim is to enable our pupil, not to
examine, but repeat our arguments, and
to rest satisfied with our conclusions.

We ought, however, to reflect, that a
time may arrive when even the most bigot-
ted adherence to the opinions we have

150 ESSAY II.

taught, and the rules we have prescribed,
will not secure her from error, and when
she would find it of more advantage to be
able to exert her own reason, than to refer
to ours. Is it then fair to deprive her of
the power by which she might be enabled
to decide on points that intimately con-
cern her happiness, but on the occurrence
of which we have not , calculated, and
against which we have consequently made
no provision ?

But even these arguments, plain and
simple as they are, must be urged in vain
to those who are incapable of the effort of
attention requisite to examine whether they
directly bear upon the subject or no. It is
therefore only with parents who can reason,
that they will have any influence, and by
such alone can the real and permanent in-
terest of a child be kept steadily in view.

While it is the custom to devote the
most precious years of life to the acquire-

CHAPTER V. 151

ment of accomplishments, in which the
rational faculty is rarely, or perhaps never,
exercised, attention will habitually be di-
rected to objects so remote from those to
which it must perseveringly be given in
every process of reasoning, that when a
question of moment is started, the only
possible way by which the mind can judge
of its merits must be, that it is approved
or disapproved by such or such a person,
or supposed to favour the opinions of such
or such a party.

Too often, indeed, may we observe men
who are capable of reasoning wisely and
justly, judging of the weight of their oppo-
nent's arguments, not by the matter they
contain, but by some adventitious circum-
stance ; and still more frequently may we
observe, that in discussions on whatever
subject, even candid men sometimes seem
to forget or to be unconscious of all that is
said by the opposite party. Both these evils
originate in certain habits of attention : —

152 ESSAY II.

attention being, in the first instance, at-
tracted to accessory ideas by association ;
and, in the second, too much absorbed in
the contemplation of the speaker's own
ideas, to enable him to notice those of his
opponent.

It is therefore of the first importance, in
the cultivation of the reaspning faculty, to
accustom the mind to what may be called
integrity of attention. This habit, essen-
tial as it is, can only be obtained by such
repeated efforts, as none will' have courage
to make in whom the love of truth is not
paramount. The conclusion is obvious.
From the above statement it necessarily
follows, that, in order to prepare the mind
for the exercise of the reasoning faculty,
it is above all things necessary, to inspire it
with the love of truth. I do not mean of
truth merely as opposed to falsehood, but
of truth as the end of knowledge, the ob-
ject of all science — truth immutable and
universal.

CHAPTER V. 153

This necessity will, I flatter myself, be
rendered still more apparent, from the view
that will hereafter be given of the nature
of a principle, which, in all its operations,
has a direct tendency to diminish our re-
gard for truth, by giving to other objects
a primary interest in our hearts.

ESSAY III.

ON THE EFFECTS

RESULTING FROM A PECULIAR DIRECTION
OF ATTENTION

ON THE

POWER OF IMAGINATION,

AND IN PRODUCING
THE

EMOTIONS OF TASTE.

ESSAY III.

ON THE EFFECTS RESULTING FROM A PECU-
LIAR DIRECTION OF ATTENTION ON THE
POWER OF IMAGINATION, AND IN PRODUC-
ING THE EMOTIONS OF TASTE.

CHAPTER I.

Observations on the power of imagination as affording
exercise to such of the intellectual faculties as have
previously been developed and cultivated. Corres-
pondence between the degree in which any of these
faculties habitually operate, and the nature of the
combinations formed in the imagination, ilhtstrated
by various examples.

IMAGINATION is not a simple faculty,
but a complex power, in which all the
faculties of the mind occasionally ope-
rate. I now propose to show, that the
operation of these faculties upon the power

158 ESSAY III.

of imagination, bears an exact proportion
to the degree in which the objects of
these faculties have been objects of at-
tention ; or, in other words, to the degree
in which these several faculties have been
previously cultivated. There can be no
doubt, that the imagination of the per-
son in whom they have all been cultivated
will be rich and vigorous. In the combi-
nations which it forms, the operations of
quick discernment, ready apprehension,
sound judgment, taste, and reason, will be
equally conspicuous. From minds thus
endowed have proceeded all such works
of genius as have contributed to the de-
light and improvement of successive ages.
In all these extraordinary instances, how-
ever, the faculties will not only be found
to have been universally cultivated, but
to have been endowed by nature with
an uncommon degree of strength and
vigour. Where nature has been less
liberal, it will not be possible, by the most
assiduous cultivation of the faculties, to

CHAPTER I. 159

render the produce of the imagination emi-
nently sublime or beautiful. But, even
where there are no pretensions to such
superior genius, the imagination that has
been enriched by a variety of ideas, will
not only prove a source of perpetual enjoy-
ment to the possessor, but of delight to all
who have the happiness of h'is acquaint-
ance. When, in persons thus endowed,
the talent of conversation has been also
cultivated, such is the pleasure derived
from their company, that they may, with-
out hyperbole, be termed the sun-beams
of social life.

Let us now view the power of imagina-
tion, as it operates under less favourable
auspices.

In the mind of the person whose primary
faculties have been no farther cultivated,
than as impelled by necessity, or excited
by some selfish impulse, the imagination
may be equally active as in minds of a

160 ESSAY III.

superior order; but, when the attention
has never been directed towards subjects
of an intellectual nature, we may easily
conceive how little its utmost activity can
produce. In such instances, the combi-
nations formed by imagination will, when
the passions do not interfere, be like the
dreams of children, made up of incongruous
assemblages of external objects; but when
any of the passions predominate, those
images, however incoherent, will from that
passion take their form and colouring;
which will easily be accounted for, when
we consider how naturally the object of
every passion attracts and occupies the
attention.

In the songs, or ballads, or other species
of poetical composition, which are known
to have been popular at any particular
period, or in any particular country, we
have a certain means of judging of the
degree in which all, or any of the faculties,
were cultivated at the period, or in the

CHAPTER I.

nation that produced them ; and of the
passions and affections that predominated
among the people with whom they had
obtained popularity. For as the imagina-
tion can only operate on such classes of
objects as have previously engaged the
attention, poetry, which is addressed to the
imagination, must keep within the same
limits, or it will fail to please.

As a proof of this, we find the poetry of
savages abounding in images of cruelty,
and expressing the horrid triumphs of
revenge; but in the description of natural
objects so defective, as to evince, that the
perceptions were in so uncultivated a state
as to be only partially exercised, and this
only when excited by the passions.

In the poetry of the oriental nations we
perceive greater proofs of observation and
discernment, whilst we, at the same time,
perceive such incongruities as manifest a
total deficiency in judgment ; and in their

VOL. i. L

16'2 ESSAY III.

description of passion, such want of tender-
ness, as shews that love was with them a
passion unmingled with affection. I know
that there are exceptions, and that some of
the oriental poets have occasionally struck
all the chords of sympathy; but, in general,
their compositions denote not the posses-
sion of many ideas derived from any other
source than attention to external objects.
From these objects the imagination of the
eastern poet selects the materials with
which he builds his monstrous fabric ; to-
wards the rearing of which nothing more is
necessary, than to combine what nature has
disjoined, or to multiply that to which the
laws of nature has prescribed certain im-
mutable limits. Thus, for instance, to the
creature of his imagination the poet gives
as many eyes, or hands, or arms, as he
pleases ; and liberally bestows on him the
wings of a bird, or the fins of a fish, or the
size of a mountain, or the power of trans-
porting himself from place to place at a
wish. And to those who have never paid

CHAPTER I.

such attention to the objects of affection
as to rentier them capable of entering into
the description of human passions, and
human feelings, such descriptions prove
highly acceptable. All the objects they
present belonging to that class on which
their attention has been chiefly occupied,
they are more readily seized by the imagi^
nation than the description of human feel-
ings or affections would be. But where
the mind and heart are in a more cultivat-
ed state, it requires something more than
the mere combination of external objects
to satisfy the imagination. The sympathy
that has been awakened by attention to
human feelings, becomes, in such circum-
stances, the prime conductor by which the
imagination is to be kindled ; and the
productions which afford no exercise to
that sympathy, whatever merit they, in
other respects, possess, will have no
chance for popularity. The effects of
this attention to human feelings, in the
cultivation of the affections, may be seen

164 ESSAY III.

in the rude compositions of nations that
have little claim to civilization, as well
as in the popular poetry of the highly civi-
lized.

The fragments of Gaelic poetry which
have, without dispute, been preserved from
periods of great antiquity, furnish abundant
proof of having been produced among a
people to whom all that interests the affec-
tions had been objects of attention. Their
descriptions of love denote not the excess
of passion, but the exquisite tenderness of
affection : Their descriptions of war denote
not the blind fury of revenge, but notions
of liberty and justice, derived from the
same source as their other affections, viz.
attention to the natural feelings of the
human heart. Imagination having such
materials to work on, formed from these
her combinations, and not being reduced to
the necessity of modelling material objects
into monsters to prove her power, she gave
to the scenes of nature no adventitious

CHAPTER I. 165

colouring, but painted them in such true
and fair proportions, as evinced a con-
siderable degree of judgment and observa-
tion.

And here it may be proper to remark,
that as in every exercise of imagination
attention is directed towards the ideas
which the mind has received from observa-
tion or description, constant employment,
if it be of a kind that demands attention,
must necessarily impede the exercise of
imagination, as idleness must, on the con-
trary, promote its exercise. Wherever,
therefore, imagination prevails, we may be
certain that there industry does not flourish;
and where habits of industry are prevalent,
there we need not expect to meet with many
proofs of imagination. But as, among the
various avocations of busy life, there are
some which make comparatively little de-
mand upon attention, and as imagination
will ever, in such instances, be found
extremely active, it is of great importance

166 ESSAY III.

to society to provide against the evils which
this activity must produce, where it has no
materials to work upon but such as are of
an inflammable nature. In this considera-
tion we have an unanswerable argument
for paying that attention to the education
of the lower orders, which is essential
towards enabling them to store the mind
with such ideas as may ,be contemplated
with advantage to the moral character ;
and, while they occupy the imagination,
may elevate the feelings and improve the
heart.

With regard to the higher classes, who
enjoy the privilege of leisure as a birth-
right, imagination must, in their minds,
have an almost perpetual operation; and
according to the degree in which all the
faculties have been exercised, and the
desires regulated, will the operation be
salutary or otherwise. Where the atten-
tion has been habitually directed to mean
and unworthy objects, it is by objects of

CHAPTER I. 167

the same description that the imagination
will be solely occupied : And those who,
from base and sordid views, seek to gratify
the imaginations of persons of this descrip-
tion, must exhibit such pictures as accord
with the depraved habits of their minds.
It is shocking to reflect how frequently
genius has stooped to this ignoble office !
We may, however, with propriety con-
clude, that the poet or the painter who
thus employs the powers of invention to
cater for the corrupt imaginations of the
vulgar great, does not possess that intel-
lectual vigour essential to the production
of whatever is truly admirable or excel-
lent. The judgment must be very defec-
tive that do^es not quickly perceive, that
neither fame, nor glory, nor honour, at-
tach to talents, when they forsake the ser-
vice of virtue.

If imagination be so active in the idle as
I have represented it, whence comes it
that the idle are generally so dull? In

168 ESSAY III.

answer to this question it may be observ-
ed, that as the indolent and uncultivated
have few ideas, though imagination may
be occupied in forming new combinations
of these, they are seldom worthy of being
communicated. They are even, for want
of variety, tiresome to those who form
them, and consequently render the spirits
flat and joyless. Such persons, though
they have no true relish for the pleasures
of social intercourse, are always ready to
bestow their weariness on strangers. At
home they have no resources, but to re-
dream the dreams that have been already
dreamed ; at home they are consequently
wretched.

Among uneducated women of all ranks
and situations, we may find numerous ex-
amples to illustrate the truth of the above
remark.

I have, in a former section, in treating
of the effects of attention in awakening

CHAPTEE I. 169

the perceptions, pointed out the conse-
quences which result from having the at-
tention habitually occupied by dress. The
pleasure which we naturally derive from
the beauty of colours, from novelty, and
variety, may sufficiently account for the
facility with which the love of ornament
is thus inspired. It is not, however, until
it seizes the imagination, that it becomes
a passion: But when in an empty mind
the love of dress thus predominates, how
melancholy is the result ! Could the com-
binations produced in the imaginations of
such persons be exposed to view, what
heaps of foil and feathers, what glittering
store of jewels and embroidery, would
meet our dazzled eyes ! When these bril-
liant reveries are unbroken by the rude
voice of conscience calling to the perform-
ance of active duties, it is astonishing to
what lengths they may be carried. I have
myself known more than one instance of
women, whose imaginations, from child-
hood to old age, have been thus occupied,

170 ESSAY III.

and to whose minds these day-dreams have
afforded a chief source of enjoyment ; and
this without any stimulus from the desire
of admiration ! Let that desire be added,
and the effect upon the imagination will be
incalculably increased.

From the pains usually taken to direct
the thoughts of young women to matri-
mony, it is not surprising that the idea of
matrimony should, in some instances, en-
gross their whole attention. From the
time that the attention is thus absorbed by
one object, no improvement of the facul-
ties can, for reasons before stated, possibly
take place. The mind must consequently,
thenceforth, remain stationary ; while the
one predominant idea, uncontrolled by
judgment or reason, keeps possession of
the imagination. To imagination all things
are possible : — under its deluding influence
the homely girl sees men who are most
sensible to the power of beauty captivated
by her charms ; the vulgar is led to the

CHAPTER I. 171

altar by the man of taste ; and the poor
makes conquest after conquest of lords,
nabobs, and contractors ! Instances have
been known to occur, of persons not natu-
rally deficient in understanding, who, for
thirty or five and thirty years of their lives,
have incessantly pursued such phantoms of
felicity ; and this without having experienc-
ed for one of all the various objects that
from time to time engaged their thoughts,
a single spark either of esteem or affection.

What a waste of the intellectual faculties
do such instances exhibit ! What regret
must it produce in every thinking mind,
to behold this utter annihilation of all those
mental energies, which, had the attention
in early life been properly directed, would
have been rendered instrumental to the
happiness of the individual and of society.

It is true, that while the mind is engag-
ed in forming these visions of happiness
it experiences a certain gratification. Life

172 ESSAY III.

may, however, extend far beyond the period
in which it is possible, even for the most
visionary, to indulge in these chimeras ;
whereas imagination, in the cultivated,
affords enjoyment to life's latest verge.

When we consider how wide is the field
on which imagination operates ; that it pre-
sents to us " images of absent objects of
every kind ; that visible figure, sounds arti-
culate and musical, all modifications of lan-
guage, and symbolical representations of
ideas, fall within its province ;" and that it
likewise has the power of forming combi-
nations of these ; — we will acknowledge,
that it is not by confining the attention to
one class of objects, that the imagination
can best be rendered a source of happiness.
The value of its combinations, appreciated
by the degree of gratification they are cal-
culated to afford, will, I am persuaded, be
found to bear an exact proportion to the
richness and variety of the materials on
which it operates. Even when it operates

CHAPTER I. 173

with most facility, this observation will be
found strictly applicable.

From circumstances apparently trivial,
a word casually uttered, an object acci-
dentally presented to view, a lively imagi-
nation will rapidly, from association, create
a picture, whose origin it may perhaps
be impossible to trace. This picture of its
own creating it may contemplate writh de-
light, and if the objects that compose it be
in their natures noble and dignified, and
calculated to produce in the mind a state
of elevation somewhat similar to that pro-
duced by the contemplation of truth, the
pleasurable effects of the emotion may
continue to be felt, even after the cause
that gave rise to them has been forgotten.
The pleasure experienced by an unculti-
vated mind in the indulgence of its reve-
ries, is, on the contrary, transient ; never
extending farther than to the moment in
which the dream is broken. But in minds
destitute of cultivation, the combinations

174 ESSAY nr.

of imagination are frequently worse than
useless, they are positively pernicious. They
debase the mind, by rendering it familiar
with low and grovelling objects, and even
while the conduct remains without re-
proach, deprave the character by polluting
the purity of the heart. It cannot be de-
nied, that these opposite effects naturally
and inevitably flow from the opposite na-
ture of the objects to which attention has
been habitually directed.

In female education, as it is generally
conducted, the imagination is stimulated,
while the stock of ideas is yet too scanty
to afford a supply of wholesome materials
for its operations. And here it may be
proper to remark, that it is not by atten-
tion to the objects of perception that this
active faculty is first awakened. Though
powerfully affected by visible objects, I
question whether, by the contemplation of
visible objects merely, the imagination was
ever yet excited. It is by the description

CHAPTER I. 175

of objects, and not by their actual presence,
that the spark is kindled, which, in the
language of poetry, is described as a spark
from heaven !

Very different is the origin ascribed to
it by a certain class of gloomy enthusiasts,
who deem it a prime merit to libel this work
of God. The pleasures of imagination, the
purest and most refined of the pleasures
of which it has pleased the divine Being
to render us susceptible, are represented
by bigots as snares which our Creator has,
in forming us, laid for our souls. Imagi-
nation is by their accounts a faculty pro-
scribed, lying under an anathema, every
exercise of it hateful in the sight of God,
whose gift it is ! — But while they thus
abjure the works of imagination, mark
the inconsistency of their conduct. To
what faculty but to that of imagination
are their harangues addressed ? Were the
imagination extinguished, in vain would
they exhibit their gloomy images of terror;

176 ESSAY III.

in vain would they vent their spleen on
the innocent amusements of life, and the
salutary gratifications of social intercourse.
It is only by obtaining power over the ima
gination that they can possibly make a
single convert; and this power they will
find more or less easy of acquirement, as
the imaginations of those to whom they
address themselves have been occupied by
mean or noble objects. Those to whom
knowledge has never opened her splendid
stores, whose judgments have remained
weak for want of exercise, and who have
consequently remained destitute of taste,
if nature has given them sensibility, will,
under these circumstances, have their ima-
ginations easily kindled by the flame of
enthusiasm. They are like jars filled with
electric fluid, ready to explode at the touch
of the conductor. The more lively their
imagination, the more apt are they to be-
come the prey of their credulity. " Such
despise sound doctrine, and having itching
ears, turn away from the truth to fables ; —

CHAPTER I. 177

knowing nothing, but doting about ques-
tions and strifes of words, whereof cometh
envy, strife, railings, evil surmisings, per-
verse disputings."*

Such, to the end of the world, will Ue the
consequences of exciting the imagination,
while the reasoning faculty is, for want of
culture, unable to direct its operations or
restrain its flights. Hence the importance
of turning the attention of the youthful
mind to objects, which, while the} afford
exercise to all the powers of the under-
standing, have a tendency to elevate the
imagination, and improve the taste.

Since the above was written Mr Stewart's
Philosophical Essays have been given to
the Public, and in them I have the inex-
p.ressible satisfaction to find many ideas
similar to those I have expressed, stated
with a precision, and illustrated with a force

* See PAUL'S 1st Epistle to Timothy, 6th chapter.
VOL. I. M

178 ESSAY III.

of argument, that infinitely enhances their
value. With the following passage from
that estimable work I shall conclude this
slight sketch of the operation of attention
in the development of the intellectual
powers.,

In speaking of those who have, to the
latest period of life, retained the powers
of genius, Mr Stewart observes, that " in
them imagination will be found to be only
one of the many endowments and habits
which constituted their intellectual supe-
riority; an understanding enriched every
moment by a new accession of information
from without, and fed by a perennial spring
of new ideas from within ; a systematical
pursuit of the same object through the
whole of life, profiting at every step by
the lessons of its own experience, and the
recollection of its own errors: above all,
the steady exercise of reason and good
sense, in controlling, guiding, and stimulat-
ing this important, but subordinate faculty;

CHAPTER I. 179

subjecting it betimes to the wholesome
discipline of rules, and, by a constant ap-
plication of it to its destined purposes,
preserving to it entire all the advantages
which it derived from the hand of nature."

180 ESSAY III.

CHAPTER II.

The emotions of taste ; not to be produced by the ope-
rations of intellect, or of the affections separately,
but by their combined operation. Manner in which
the affections of the heart, and the faculties of the
understanding, are blended in the exercise of taste,
illustrated, fyc.

THE nature and principles of taste have
been so beautifully explained and illus-
trated in the valuable treatise of Mr Ali-
son, that it is impossible to add force to
demonstrations so peculiarly clear and con-
vincing: And hence it may seem, that all
which remains to one who adopts his views
upon the subject, is to refer to the work in
which they have been with inimitable elo-
quence described.

But it appears to me that the subject is
not yet exhausted; and that, subscribing

CHAPTER II. 181

to the principles which Mr Alison has with
so much taste and skill developed, some
important considerations, connected with
these principles, still remain the proper
objects of inquiry and investigation.

As the capability of enjoying all the re-
fined pleasures of a just and discriminating
taste, must ultimately depend on the de-
gree in which the individual is capable of
exerting those powers of the mind, whose
operations are essential towards producing
the emotions of sublimity or beauty, it be-
comes a question of some moment to ascer-
tain, what are the powers which, in the
exercise of taste, are called into action.
Are those of the understanding only re-
quisite? Then all who are capable of ex-
erting the powers of observation, and judg-
ment, and reasoning, must be in proportion
possessed of taste. If, on the other hand,
we suppose that a great susceptibility of
the emotions of affection will suffice for
the production of the emotions of taste,

182 "ESSAY in.

we must in that case infer, that wherever
the affections are cultivated, taste will be
experienced. To whichever of those opi-
nions we are inclined to subscribe, (and
we may observe, that in disquisitions on
the subject of taste one or other of them
has usually been adopted), we, according
to my apprehension, will be apt to mislead
those who are desirous of cultivating a
faculty which we justly consider as the
source of the most refined enjoyment.
Few who take the trouble of consulting
authorities upon the subject, will think
that taste, like reading and writing, accord-
ing to Dogberry, comes by nature ; though
it has been justly observed by an enlight-
ened critic, whose analysis of the work
to which I have alluded has been much
and deservedly admired, that " the first
notion most people have about taste is,
that it is a peculiar sense or faculty, of
which beauty is the appropriate object, as
light is of the sense of seeing, or sound of
hearing ; and this being once settled, there

CHAPTER II. 183

is with many an end of the whole ques-
tion. Beauty is that which gratifies the
faculty of taste, and taste is that by which
we are made sensible of beauty ; and this
is, as they conceive, all that is to be known
of the one or the other." *

Considering how averse people generally
are to the trouble of thinking, it is not to
be expected that those who have thus com-
fortably made up their minds upon the
subject, will readily be persuaded, while
they continue to view the subject in
question as merely speculative, to submit
their opinions to a rigorous investigation.
" What good," say they, " can possibly
arise from ascertaining with precision the
nature and origin of the emotions we occa-
sionally experience ? Would it quicken
our perception of beauty, or increase the
gratification we derive from it, were we

* See the critique on Mr Alison's Essay son the Nature
and Principles of Taste, in the Edinburgh Review, NO. 35.

184 ESSAY III.

enabled to decompose our sensations, or to
resolve them into their original elements?
If the negative be admitted, it is evident
that knowledge upon this subject is not
power, and consequently is not of any real
importance." But the negative we do not
admit: we, on the contrary, assert, that
our knowledge of the principles of taste
has a direct tendency to quicken our per-
ceptions of the sublime and beautiful, by
awakening our attention to qualities that
excite the emotions of sublimity and beau-
ty ; and also tends to increase the gratifica-
tion derived from these emotions, by in-
creasing in the heart the influence of the
best and noblest affections.

In this point of view, taste is seen as
connected with the moral principle, and ap-
pears, not indeed as an additional faculty be-
stowed on a few fortunate individuals, but
as an operation of the mind, to which all the
faculties that have been passing in review
before us, and all the affections and sympa-

CHAPTER II. 185

thies of which we have yet to speak, are
alike essential. In the emotions of taste
they are united. It is this union that con-
stitutes these emotions ; and, consequently,
the capability of experiencing them must
depend, not solely on the degree in which
we are capable of exercising the one or the
other, but on the degree in which we are
capable of exercising both.

To the illustration of this point I beg
leave to devote a few pages, in hopes of
convincing my young friends, that in culti-
vating taste on just and real principles, they
are not only augmenting the sources of inno-
cent enjoyment, but ennobling their natures,
by increasing their susceptibility to emo-
tions more nearly allied than they are per-
haps aware, to piety and virtue.

As it is extremely obvious that all do
not perceive beauty in the same object, it
is not merely from the perception of the
object that the emotion of beauty is deriv-

186 ESSAY III.

ed. In order to excite that emotion, the
object must recall to our recollection some
pleasurable feelings or sensations formerly
experienced. These, again, on examina-
tion, will invariably be found connected
with the -affections or sympathies of the
heart. To elucidate this by an example
familiar to all, let us take the instance of
light.

" It is pleasant to the eyes to behold the
sun," says the wise king of Israel: and,
doubtless, it is to the original frame and
constitution of our nature, that the plea-
sure we derive from light must ultimately
be referred. But let us examine the nature
of the pleasurable emotion we experience
on beholding the light of day, and we shall
find, that it is by no means produced simply
by the effect of light upon the external
organs, but by calling up in our minds
certain trains of ideas that are all of a
cheerful cast, and are consequently exhila-
rating.

CHAPTER II. 187

In the benevolence of the Creator it has
been decreed, that the consciousness of
existence should impart delight, and that
every animal should rejoice in the exercise
of the powers and functions that belong to
its nature. Hence evidently arises much
of that pleasure which we perceive to be
enjoyed by infants, in fixing their eyes on
luminous objects. As such objects have
for them peculiar attractions, it is probably
in contemplating them that they first learn
what may properly be termed the art of
seeing. Thus may light, even in the ear-
liest period of infancy, be associated with
pleasing ideas ; or, in other words, produce
the recollection of former gratification.

As we advance in life this pleasing asso-
ciation is confirmed and augmented by a
vast accession of ideas, derived from all
the various objects of sight, at a period
when whatever delights the eyes affords
gratification to the heart. Thus the ideas
of light and joy may become inseparable :

ESSAY III.

and, with the exceptions hereafter to be
mentioned, they are inseparable : and so
universally is the association understood,
that in figurative language one may be
substituted for the other, without any risk
of misconception. The connexion be-
tween light and truth is formed by a simi-
lar process; and this association is imper-
ceptibly strengthened in pious minds by
scriptural imagery, in which the idea of
light is frequently introduced as descriptive
of some of the attributes of Deity.

How sublime is the idea of light to him,
who, in the contemplation of it, is impres-
sed with a solemn recollection, that " God
is light, and that in him there is no dark-

C* *

ness." The emotions produced by this
association are sublime. Those produced
by a connexion between the ideas of light
and of human virtue, may be instanced as
emotions of beauty. Thus, in describing
the happiness resulting from the conscious-
ness of integrity, when the prophet de-

CHAPTER II. 189

clares, that " light is sown for the righte-
ous, and gladness for the upright in heart,"
we instantly adopt the association ; and,
when we do so, experience from the idea
of light an emotion of beauty.

. <*J v. »:>.', fldfli'v-t' Luf jUl>J J.'i !•' Hi't...}!, •.-•• ,

i

But does the idea of light invariably
produce the same effect upon <our minds ?
Is it always accompanied by emotions of
sublimity or beauty ? If not, upon what
circumstances does the recurrence of these
emotions depend ? The reply to this will,
I presume, have been anticipated. It is
only when the ideas that are connected
with the ideas of light occupy a certain
portion of attention, that the perception of
light excites in us any sensible emotion.
Nor can this appear extraordinary; for if,
as was formerly stated, we do not perceive
what is placed before our eyes without a
certain degree of attention, it will follow,
of course, that towards the perception of
such qualities, as by their association with
ideas of affection have a tendency to pro-

190 ESSAY III.

cluce certain emotions, a still greater effort
of attention must be requisite. ,

It appears, then, that the emotions of
sublimity and beauty depend on a twofold
operation of attention, which serves to
unite, or rather blend, two distinct prin-
ciples of our nature — the affections of the
heart, and the faculties of the understand-
ing. In order to experience the emotions
of taste, both of these must necessarily be
cultivated; and there is no other way in
which they can be cultivated but by atten-
tion to their proper objects.

When it is the mental faculties only
that have been improved by habitual exer-

•

cise, the eye will perceive, and the ear will
hear, and the judgment will determine,
with accuracy ; but if the affections be in
the meantime dormant or obtuse, nothing
that is seen, heard, or understood, will
produce an emotion of taste. If, on the
other hand, the affections have been culti-

CHAPTER II. 191

vated by attention to the proper objects of
affection, the heart will certainly be ren-
dered susceptible of veneration, love, joy,
pity, admiration, gratitude, &c. and have all
its tender sympathies called forth when the
objects of these affections are presented to
the sight, or to the memory ; but if the
intellectual faculties be in the same mind
feeble, or only capable of partial and limit-
ed exertion, there will, in this instance
likewise, be an utter incapability of expe-
riencing the emotions of taste. Nor will
these be experienced by him who has had
both his heart and understanding cultivat-
ed in the highest degree possible, unless
he has habitually directed his attention to
the discovery of such qualities in external
objects, as, by analogies or resemblance, are
calculated to excite, through the medium
of the imagination, the same affections as
are inspired by the proper objects of his
love, pity, admiration, &c. It is on the
discovery of these analogies that the emo-
tions of taste depend, and only by a pecu-

192 ESSAY III.

liar exercise of attention that they can be
discovered.

When attention has been but rarely, or
occasionally, given to what are termed
objects of taste, it is impossible, for reasons
stated at length in the former Essay, that
the perception of those qualities which are
by association connected with ideas of
affection, can be so quick as instantaneous-
ly to affect the mind with correspondent
emotions. Hence we must infer, that
habitual attention to these qualities in ex-
ternal objects is indispensable to the culti-
vation of taste, however brilliant the ima-
gination, and however ardent the affec-
tions.

I shall endeavour to illustrate these re-
marks by familiar examples. First, with
regard to the man of uncultured mind, but
cultivated affections. In every such in-
stance we shall find, that the affections,
however ardent, are limited to their proper

CHAPTER II. 193

objects : they are never capable of being
excited by remote resemblances to the
qualities which endear the human beings
with whom he is connected to his heart.

An ignorant peasant may give the most
striking proofs of tender affection for his
infant offspring; and this affection will
expand his heart so far, as to inspire him
with tenderness for children in general,
and perhaps awaken kindly and benevolent
feelings for every object of human sym-
pathy. But will any of the most beautiful
scenes in nature have such power over his
imagination, as to recall the ideas of in-
fancy, and thus to excite emotions of ten-
derness similar to those we suppose him to
have frequently experienced ? No ; the
return of the vernal season will be hailed
by him as the return of the season of pro-
fitable exertion. But it is not in a mind
so constituted, that " the soft and gentle
grass with which the earth is spread, the
feeble texture of the plants and flowers,

VOL. I. N

194 ESSAY III.

the young of animals just entering into
life, the remains of winter yet lingering
among, the woods and hills, will inspire
something of that fearful tenderness with
which infancy is usually beheld" *

We need only ask a few questions of any
uneducated person, to be convinced of the
extreme insensibility with which objects,
which we justly deem eminently beautiful,
are surveyed by those whose attention has
been habitually engrossed by vulgar cares.
I was not long ago told by a young woman,
born and bred in the country, that she had
never in her life observed the beauty of
the setting sun ; and must greatly doubt,
whether there are, among our common
labourers, many to whom we could apply
the poet's description of the swain, of
whom we are desired to ask,

« AS he

Journeys homewards from a summer day's

* Essays on the Nature and Principles of Taste.

CHAPTER II.

Long labour, why, forgetful of his toils

And due repose, he loiters to behold

The sunshine gleaming, as through amber clouds,

O'er all the western sky?"*

So far is attention to such objects from
being universal, that the instances in which
they occur among untutored minds are
always considered as extraordinary, and
are pointed out to our notice, as indicating
something peculiar in the mind of the in-
dividual. It is in such cases that we per-
ceive the clearest proofs of the differences

K .

which exist between mind and mind, in
respect to that natural susceptibility of
impression which is termed original genius.
This observation is finely illustrated by Dr
Beattie in the Minstrel ; where, in tracing
the progress of a mind susceptible of all
the finer emotions of taste, he, with admir-
rable skill, displays the first symptoms of
dawning genius in an early sensibility to
the charms of nature,

* Akenside.

ESSAY III.

Lo ! where the stripling, wrapt in wonder, roves
Beneath the precipice o'erhung with pine,
And sees on high, amidst the encircling groves,
From cliff to cliff the foaming torrent shine ;
While waters, woods, and winds, in concert join,
And echo swells the chorus to the skies.
Would Edwin this majestic scene resign,
For aught the huntsman's puny craft supplies ?
Ah ! No : He better knows great nature's charms to
prize.

It is difficult to forbear pursuing the
description, it is so eminently beautiful;
but of more consequence to my argu-
ment to observe, with what just discri-
mination the poet describes the effects of
young Edwin's superior taste on his rude
associates : —

" The neighbours stared and sighed, yet blessed the lad,
'* Some deemed him wondrous wise, and some lelievcd
him mad."

Those who have never paid so much
attention to any external objects, as to per-
ceive in their forms, or colours, or combi-

CHAPTER II. 197

nations, that beauty which, when perceived,
never fails to excite agreeable emotion,
must consequently remain ignorant of the
nature of emotions they have never expe-
rienced ; nor will they perceive, in the form
of any external objects, analogies or resem-
blances to any of those qualities which
they know to be characteristic of some of
the natural and immediate objects of affec-
tion. Even when attention to such qua-
lities has become habitual, if it be by any
circumstance interrupted, the mind will,
during that period, be incapable of experi-
encing any emotion of sublimity or beauty.
Thus, for example, it is possible that a man
passionately addicted to the pleasures of
the chase, may, at the same time, be exqui-
sitely susceptible of the emotions of taste.
In contemplating the beauty of autumn in
his solitary walks, the decay of nature may
produce in his mind feelings congenial witfy
the season ; and while every minute cir-
cumstance which indicates the death or
approaching departure of the summer's

ESSAY Ilf.

glories, augments the impression, by uni-
formly presenting those solemn images of
decay that are to mortal beings so peculi-
arly interesting, there is no doubt that cor-
respondent emotions will touch his heart.
But let us observe him, amid the same
scenery, and in the same season, engaged
in pursuit of a fox, following the hounds
through glens that rustle with the fallen
leaves, and over plains that have recently
been divested of their beauty, and we shall
quickly perceive, that the sight of these
objects no longer produces in his mind any
emotion whatever. A proof, that the emo-
tion in every instance depends on the de-
gree of attention given to those qualities
which we assimilate in our imagination
with those that are properly the objects of
human sympathy.

The perception of these qualities will be
more or less quick, in exact proportion to
the degree in which they have occupied
our attention ; and as it is the immediate

CHAPTER II. IQ9

perception of them, accompanied by exqui-
site sensibility to the emotions of affection,
that constitute the essentials of taste, where
either of these are wanting it is vain to ex-
pect, that emotions of sublimity or beauty
will be excited by any of the charms of
nature, or any of the productions of genius.

But as it frequently happens, that from
some peculiar circumstances the mind be-
comes habitually disposed to the exercise
of affections of one particular class, we
must naturally expect, that in such instan-
ces attention will be chiefly directed to
the discovery of qualities which assimi-
late with the affection that predominates,
and with the objects of which the mind is,
of course, most familiar.

As a confirmation of the above remark
I. believe it will be acknowledged, that in
proportion .to the number of persons who
are susceptible of the emotions of beauty,
there are comparatively few who are capa-

200 ESSAY III.

ble of experiencing the emotions of subli-
mity.

Let those who are most susceptible of
them, reflect on the state of mind they pro-
duce, and on the nature of those trains of
ideas to which they immediately give birth,
and they will be convinced, that they are
in all respects the same as are produc-
ed by profound veneration. Veneration,
though mingled with awe, is not to be
produced through the medium of fear ; and
though connected with love, is never by
love alone to be excited. It is in the con-
templation of certain moral qualities, as co-
existent, that the pure sentiment of venera-
tion first inspires the breast. In the attri-
butes of Deity, these qualities are alone to
be contemplated in perfection. Hence it
should seem to follow, that the habitually
pious must be particularly susceptible of
the Emotions of sublimity. Nor would the
inference be erroneous, were it not, that as
piety may be, and in fact frequently is

CHAPTER II. 201

produced by attention to certain of those
attributes, exclusive of the rest, though it
will in such instances exercise the affec-
tions of love or of fear, it will not be pro-
ductive of veneration.

When we solemnly contemplate the na-
ture and excellence of any one of the di-
vine attributes, as power, justice, wisdom,
or goodness, we are immediately sensible
of an emotion corresponding to the nature
of the attribute on which we fix our atten-
tion : But it is by viewing these attributes
as combined in inseparable union, that our
hearts are filled with that profound vene-
ration due to infinite perfection. In like
manner, when in beholding the characters
of infinite power, or strength, or wisdom,
or beneficence, impressed on any of the
objects in creation, if our attention be ex-
clusively directed to one of these qualities,
though we may hence experience the
solemn emotions of fear, or the cheerful
emotions of admiration and gratitude, we

ESSAY III.

shall not experience the emotions of subli-
mity.

As an illustration of the above remark,
let us suppose ourselves placed at the base
of a stupendous mountain, in a situation to
behold rock piled on rock, in a manner
that threatened, by the fall of the project-
ing mass, to crush us into atoms : Few
objects in nature present to the imagina-
tion a spectacle more sublime. It may
nevertheless be beheld without producing
one emotion of sublimity. It will excite
no such emotion in the mind of him whose
attention is directed solely to the danger
that would attend the fall of those lofty
craggs, which appear prepared to descend
in vengeance on his head. Neither will
the emotion of sublimity be felt by him
whose attention is occupied in measuring
by his eye the height of the precipice,
and comparing it with what he has heard
of the height of other mountains. Nor
by him who, from having contemplated

CHAPTER II. 203

the Deity exclusively in the attributes of
power and justice, connects with these his
works, the appalling ideas of unappeasable
wrath, and unlimitable puissance.

It is in the mind of him to whom all
that is vast or magnificent in the fabric of
the universe serves to recall the ideas, not
only of infinite power and wisdom, but of
infinite beneficence and mercy, that such
a scene will awaken the pure emotions of
sublimity ; and as in his mind the ideas
impressed by the contemplations of all the
various moral attributes are firmly associ-
ated, whatever tends to recall any one
of these perfections, will introduce the
other. By whatever objects these ideas
are recalled, the emotions connected with
them will be excited ; but unless the mind
is capable of discovering in the object
those analogies so frequently alluded to,
it is plain that no emotion can be expe-
rienced. The discovery of these analogies
between certain qualities in the object, and

204 ESSAY III.

qualities or attributes that only belong to
intellectual natures of the highest order,
is evidently the result of attention ; and in
attention to these qualities, therefore, does
the emotion of sublimity depend. When,
in expressing our feelings, we speak of the
grandeur of a lofty mountain, or of the
sublimity of the ocean, we only shew that
we have discovered in these objects quali-
ties that correspond with our notions of
grandeur and sublimity : These notions
again, could we trace them to their source,
we should acknowledge to have derived,
not from the contemplation of any material
forms, but from qualities evinced in the
actions of intelligent beings.

In this way only are the emotions of
sublimity produced. And as the associa-
tions on which they depend are formed
by attention to qualities that are seldom
contemplated by vulgar minds, it is not to
be expected that the vulgar of any rank
should evince a taste for the sublime.

CHAPTER II.

It has already been observed, that, even
in the mind that is most susceptible of
these emotions, their duration and inten-
sity will be found to bear an exact propor-
tion to the degree in which the qualities,
associated with the idea of sublimity, hap-
pen at the moment to engage our atten-
tion.

The sight of the ocean in a storm, whilst
we ourselves are in a tranquil state of
mind, never fails to produce, in a person of
cultivated taste, a strong emotion of subli-
mity. But let us view this sublime ob-
ject at a moment when we are intent upon
prosecuting a voyage, and impatient at the
delay occasioned by the fury of the adverse
waves, how completely, under such cir-
cumstances, are the emotions of sublimity
annihilated !

How sublime in description do some of
the scenes in Iceland appear to our imagi-
nation, as they have been forcibly deli-

206 ESSAY III.

neated by the travellers who have recently
visited that region ! There, amid sterility
and desolation, nature exhibits her won-
ders. Let us for a moment contemplate
some of the striking features presented in
Sir George Mackenzie's description of the
Geysers. These celebrated springs, from
which jets of boiling water have been
thrown up at 'regular intervals from time
immemorial, are, he informs us, " situated
on the verge of that vast district of unin^
habited and desolate country, which forms
the interior of Iceland."

In a country whose every feature bears
marks of desolation ; where mountains,
whose tops are covered with perpetual
snow, emit from their bosoms volumes of
flame and torrents of lava, every object
connected with such extraordinary phe*
nomena must tend to excite the mind to
an elevated tone. In the midst of this
sterile region, where from experience one
expects every crevice to be filled with

CHAPTER II. 207

frozen snow, we should imagine that foun-
tains of boiling water could not fail to ex-
cite astonishment and curiosity. We are
nevertheless assured, that " at the present
day the number of the natives who have
visited these springs is comparatively very
small, and that by those who live near
them, their extraordinary operations, con-
stantly going on, are regarded with the
same eye as the most common and indif-
ferent appearances of nature."*

* " The descriptions we had read, and the ideas vte
had formed of their grandeur, were all lost in the amaze-
ment excited on their being actually before us ; and
though I may perhaps raise their attributes in the esti-
mation of the reader, I am satisfied that 1 cannot convey
the slightest idea of the mingled raptures of wonder,
admiration, and terror, with which our breasts were
filled. On lying down we could not sleep more than a
minute or two at a time, our anxiety causing us often to
raise our heads to listen. At last the joyful sound struck
my ears. In an instant we were within sight of the
Geyser ; the discharges continuing, being more frequent
and louder than before, resembling the firing of artillery
from a ship at sea. This happened at half past eleve*

.'"»"•• 2

208 ESSAY III.

That no familiarity with the objects al-
luded to, could have annihilated the feel-
ings of admiration in minds capable of dis-
cerning in such phenomena the qualities
that excite emotion, is, I think, extremely
obvious.

From a perusal of the note the reader will
perceive, that the scene must unquestionably
be in a high degree sublime. Whether the
attention be directed to the majesty of the

o'clock ; at which time, though the sky was cloudy,
the light was more than sufficient for shewing the Geyser;
but it was of that degree of faintness, which rendered a
gloomy country still more dismal. Such a midnight
scene as was now before us can seldom be witnessed.
The Geyser did not disappoint us ; and seemed as if it
was exerting itself to exhibit all its glory on the eve of
our departure. It threw up a succession of magnificent
jets, the highest of which were at least ninety feet. No
drawing, no engraving, can possibly convey any idea of
the noise and velocity of the jets, nor of the swift rolling
of the clouds of vapour, which were hurled one over
another with amazing rapidity."

Travels in Iceland, p. 224.

CHAPTER II. 209

ascending column of water and steam, rising
to immense height, or to the irresistible
force which impels its motion, or to the
incomprehensible depth of that magnifi-
cent laboratory in which nature prepares
materials for these works of wonder, — such
infinite power, immutability, and wisdom,
must necessarily occur, as cannot fail to
produce in full extent the emotions of
sublimity.

By the poor inhabitants of the sterile
region, no emotions of sublimity are, how-
ever, experienced. In viewing this asto-
nishing phenomenon, they simply attend
to the quality of the boiling water, and in
experiencing the convenience of being
constantly provided with a supply of this
essential article, are grateful to the power
which opened the mighty cauldron for
their use.

Whatever turns our attention from those
qualities or circumstances which serve to
VOL. i. o

210 ESSAY III.

recall the ideas of veneration, will as effec-
tually prevent our experiencing the emo-
tions of sublimity, as the most profound
ignorance. Thus we may observe, that in
contemplating the glories of the firmament,
where the evidences of infinite wisdom,
eternal stability, and omnipotence, are
most obviously displayed, it is not always
by those, who have made the heavenly
bodies their peculiar study, that the emo-
tions of sublimity have been most deeply
felt.

As an astronomer, th6 shepherd king
of Israel was probably much inferior to
La Place. It is, however, more than pro-
bable, that the former in exclaiming,
" When I consider the heavens, the work
of thy fingers — the moon and the stars
which thou hast ordained!" &c. experienc-
ed such emotions, of sublimity as were
never known to the sceptic philosopher,
even in the happy moment of ascertaining
the laws by which the evolution of the

jCHAPTER II.

stars were regulated, or in that of dis-
covering the means employed by Omni-
potence for chaining the- ocean to its
mighty bed.

Is, then, the cultivation of science ini-
mical to the cultivation of taste? By no
means. It is only when secondary causes
have exclusively occupied the attention, that
the pursuit of science can produce insensi-
bility to those finer emotions. When all
the qualities which excite veneration have
exercised the heart, attention will never
be so exclusively occupied by the forms or
qualities of matter, as not occasionally to
be directed to those analogies, which are
no sooner perceived than correspondent
emotions are excited. When the percep-
tion of these relations has become habitual,
the attention will habitually revert to them,
and thus the pleasures arising from the dis-
coveries of science, be augmented by the
pleasures of taste,

•'iivJtnq iij; ,)i«1ui; i«i J»^/*; . ;.</*?

ESSAY III.

As the origin of the emotions of subli-
mity may be discovered in the emotions of
veneration consequent on our contemplat-
ing the qualities we attribute to a superior
nature, the origin of the emotions of
beauty may, in like manner, be traced to
the emotions consequent on our perception
of those qualities which awaken our sympa-
thetic affections, when contemplated in the
conduct or sentiments of our fellow crea-
tures.

The connexion between taste and vir-
tue is hence discernible. For from those
premises the inference is plain, that in
order to be habitually susceptible of the
emotions of taste, we must be habitually
susceptible of those emotions which spring
from the exercise of exalted piety and
social affection. And if it be the best, the
noblest affections of our nature, that are the
prototypes of the emotions of sublimity
and beauty, when these affections are un-
cultivated, or unfelt, all pretensions to taste

CHAPTER II. 213

must be destitute of any solid foundation.
As some of the pleasures of taste may, how-
ever, be derived from secondary sources,
these shall in due time be examined. But
before proceeding to that part of our sub-
ject, I think it may be useful to trace to
their respective sources, a few of those
associations, by whose powerful influence
inanimate objects are rendered capable of
touching in our hearts the chords of sym-
pathy, and even of awakening there, feel-
ings, similar in their nature to those we
experience when contemplating such ob-
jects as have primarily excited the affec-
tions.

Those who have it in their power to ob-
serve what passes in the minds of children,
will easily be convinced, that their notions
of beauty and deformity are not always a
mere transcript of the notions they hear
expressed by those around them ; and that
the pleasure they derive from looking at
certain objects, or listening to certain

ESSAY III.

sounds, cannot otherwise be accounted for,
than by supposing that they are reminded
by them t>f something that has formerly
excited agreeable sensations.

With respect to the pleasure derived
from light, it appears evidently the effect
of associations formed at a very early
period ; and is, of course, very universally
experienced.

The pleasures arising from the gratifica-
tion of curiosity, which is the incitement
to the acquirement of new ideas, is likewise
a pleasure of infancy, and is perhaps the
origin of the pleasure derived from dis-
covering, in external objects, qualities that
excite wonder or admiration. The fre-
quent recurrence of this emotion in child-
hood, may be reckoned one of the prime
sources of enjoyment at that tender age.
But could we preserve a perfect recollection
of the circumstances connected with our
liking or aversion to certain objects in

CHAPTER II. 215

early childhood, we should; I imagine, be
still more thoroughly convinced, that the
sense of pleasure or pain we experienced in
beholding them, was occasioned by perceiv-
ing in the object something that reminded
us either of former pleasure or pains, asso-
ciated with the idea of some mental quality
or affection.

Thus, as gentleness and good nature are
qualities which the experience of infants
teaches them early to appreciate, jve may
observe, that whatever expresses those
qualities has for them peculiar attractions.
I have seen a child so charmed by the smile
of good humour on the swarthy cheek of a
negro, as to be instantly reconciled to the
uncommon appearance of his uncouth fea-
tures and complexion ; and at the same
time turn with aversion from an admired,
but cold and haughty beauty. Even in
the inanimate objects with which it is sur-
rounded, a child, whose perceptions have
been awakened, will frequently descry in

216

the shape or colour, such resemblances.
The vulgar, who, from want of cultivation,
retain the associations of infancy, afford us
frequent proof of this in their common
forms of expression ; as sonsy* honest like,
&c. applied to material and inanimate sub-
stances.

As far as my observation has extended,
good nature is the quality invariably con-
nected, in the mind of an infant, with the
object of its liking, and the idea of ill
nature that it as invariably associates with
the object of its aversion. Can we doubt,
that as the sphere of the affections enlarges,
every emotion of which the heart then be-
comes susceptible, may in like manner be
excited by objects of whatever kind, (whe-
ther presented to the eye, or to the ear, or
to the imagination,) which serve to awaken
the same train of ideas, or bring the mind
into the same state ? It is then in vain to

* Placid, inoffensive. — Scottish dialect.

CHAPTER II. 217

search for the principles of heauty in any
peculiar form or tint, for with every form
into which matter can be arranged, with
every colour by which it can be adorned,
such associations may be connected in the
mind of the beholder, as will inevitably
excite the emotions of beauty ; emotions
as various in kind, as the affections that
produce them. Thus, in respect to vege-
table forms, it is observed by Mr Alison,
that " many of the classes of trees have
distinct characters. There are, therefore,
different compositions which are beautiful
in their forms ; and in all of them that
composition only is beautiful, which cor-
responds to the nature of the expression
they have, or of the emotion they excite.
The character, for instance, of the weeping
willow, is melancholy, of the birch and of
the aspen, gaiety; the character of the horse-
chesnut, is solemnity, of the oak, majesty,
of the yew, sadness. In each of these cases
the general form or composition of the
parts is altogether different; all of them,

'21 8 ESSAY III.

however, are beautiful : and were this pro-
portion in point of composition changed,
were the weeping willow to assume an
equal degree of variety with the oak, or
the oak to shew an equal degree of uni-
formity with the weeping willow, we
should undoubtedly feel it as a defect, and
conclude, that in this change of form the
beauty of the character and of the compo-
sition was lost." And whence this conclu-
t • '

sion, but because the characters we for-
merly recognized in them; from being con-
nected with qualities that are the. proper
objects of human sympathy, excited cor-
respondent emotions ; and the mixed cha-
racter which they now assume, not being
calculated to recall the idea of any quality
productive of emotion, they consequently
lose the power of exciting in us the idea
of beauty.

But are the qualities which have been
assigned to each of the trees above enume-
rated, as obvious to every eye, as are the

CHAPTER IT. 219

external signs of gaiety, sadness, solemnity,
&c. displayed in the human countenance ?
No. So far are they from being thus ob-
vious, that to by far the greater number of
beholders, their forms seem not to express
any qualities but those which they possess
in common with all material substances,
and are regarded only as they differ from
each other in size or solidity.* The per-
ception of these qualities being the result
of a particular exercise of attention, it is
only where attention has been thus exer-
cised that they will be perceived ; and,
consequently, only in such instances' that
the correspondent emotion will be produc-

* " How beautiful !" exclaimed my female attendant,
on a journey, as we passed through some of the finest
forest scenery I ever beheld. Readily assenting to the
justice of her remark, I pointed to a groupe of ancient
oaks, whose majestic forms had particularly attracted
lay attention. " O, them are but common trees," she
returned ; " but please look on the left to these tall ones,
whose branches grow so evenly, just as if they had been
shaped by a pair of scissars !" Need we ask by what
associations her notions of beauty were influenced ?

220 ESSAY III.

ed. And, for this reason, minds equally
susceptible of the emotions of beauty will
be very differently affected by the same
object One, for example, by directing his
attention to the light texture of the birch
and aspen, perceives, in the smooth and
glossy bark, and animated motion of the
pendant leaves, waving on their slender
stems, the characteristics of youthful viva-
city ; an idea strongly associated with
images of gaiety and joy, and therefore
delightful to his imagination. He looks
on the oak and the chesnut with an expec-
tation of experiencing from them a repeti-
tion of the same emotion, but in vain ; and
he is therefore disposed to deny that they
too are beautiful. Another, by directing
his attention to the massive structure, and
dark and thickly clustering foliage of the
chesnut, perceives in its aspect an air of
solemnity, which in his mind may be so
strongly associated with ideas of inflexible
integrity, firmness, and wisdom, as to ex-
cite emotions similar to those he had ex-

CHAPTER II. 221

perienced from these respectable qualities,
when contemplated in human conduct.
There can be no doubt, that by him the
horse-chesnut will be deemed eminently
beautiful. But let us suppose these two
gentlemen entering into a dispute respect-
ing the superior beauty of the objects they
severally admired, is it not obvious, that
while their respective associations remained
in force, the dispute could never be brought
to termination ? Yet into such sort of dis-
putes are people who give themselves credit
for superior taste, very apt to involve them-
selves, by contending for the inherent
beauty of the scenes or objects they ad-
mire, and denying the same portion of in-
herent beauty to those which are seen by
others with equal admiration.

In the contempt which each expresses
for the opinion of his opponent, he doubt-
less imagines he gives proof of his supe-
rior taste ; but, in reality, he affords incon-
testible proof that his taste is partial and

222 .. ESSAY III.

defective, and that his attention has been
so exclusively directed to analogies and
resemblances of one particular species, that
others, though not less obvious, have escap-
ed his observation.

This leads to conclusions of no slight
importance. For if the emotions of taste
depend on our perception of qualities that
are not to be perceived without a certain
portion of attention, and if it be only in
certain classes of objects that we have, by
attention, discovered qualities connected
with ideas of affection, we may hence
infer the absurdity of arrogating to our-
selves the right of deciding on all subjects
of taste, from having on certain occasions
experienced its emotions. The man who
has successfully cultivated taste in literary
composition, and who, in the perusal of a
favourite author, experiences the emotions
of sublimity or beauty in exquisite per-
fection, may nevertheless view unmoved
the chef d'ceuvres of art, and pass the most

CHAPtfcR II.

grand and lovely scenes in nature, without
being conscious of their peculiar charms.
While, on the other hand, the connoisseur
who is thrown into raptures by the works
of a Phidias or Praxiteles, and who dwells
with ecstasy on the mutilated fragment of
an ancient statue, may be observed to
listen with indifference to those choice
morsels of eloquence, which, by all judges
of literary composition, are pronounced
inimitable ! In like manner, the person
who directs his attention exclusively to
the productions of the painter, the poet, or
the landscape gardener, may be enabled to
perceive, and to feel, what is either sublime
or beautiful in the objects on which his
imagination delights to dwell, without a
perception or feeling of the beauty or sub-
limity of which other objects are to other
minds expressive.

This partial taste is seldom indeed to be
observed in those in whom the faculty of
perception has been duly cultivated; for

224 ESSAY III.

it is only in such cases that the exercise of
the faculty requires such effort, as neces-
sarily to confine its operations within cer-
tain bounds. The result of this laborious
effort is pedantry ; and against pedantry
of every sort, habits of extensive and
general observation is consequently the
only infallible preservative.

But even where the perceptions are most
acute, and the sensibility most exquisite, we
may still observe the effects of the peculiar
direction of attention. " Raffaelle and
Titian" (says Sir Joshua Reynolds) " seem
to have looked at nature for different pur-
poses ; they both had the power of extend-
ing their views to the whole, but one
looked only to the general effect as pro-
duced by form, the other as produced by
colour."

The objects of taste- being almost infinite,
this peculiar susceptibility with regard to
beauties of one description, must be in

CHAPTER II. 225

Some measure inevitable ; and, certainly,
every lover of the fine arts will rejoice, that
Raffaelle and Titian selected different qua-
lities for the objects of their particular at-
tention. But had Raffaelle denied to Titian
the praise due to his superior taste in colour-
ing, and Titian refused to acknowledge that
there was sublimity in Raffaelle's designs,
the taste of both might justly have been
questioned.

The farther we extend our observation,
the more reason shall we have to conclude,
that the aptitude to consider that only as
beautiful, in which we perceive beauty; and
that only as sublime, from Avhich we expe-
rience the emotions of sublimity; is the
consequence either of a very limited ac-
quaintance with the objects of taste, or of
very uncultivated affections. A few in-
stances will suffice for the illustration of
this remark.

VOL. I. P

226 ESSAY III.

Those who have been accustomed to
dwell with nature in her lone abodes, may,
in listening to the roar of the mountain
torrent, and in beholding the gigantic
forms of barren rocks and precipices, find
exquisite delight; and, if they possess the
indispensable requisites, will frequently ex-
perience, in contemplating them, the emo-
tions of sublimity. The man who has thus
cultivated his taste exclusively on this mo-
del, however, contends not for the sublimity
only, but for the pre-eminent beauty of the
scenery by which he is surrounded. With
every spot of verdure which he has disco-
vered in his native glen, with its transpa-
rent rivulets, its waving birches, its scarlet
rowans, and even with its purple heath, he
connects ideas of beauty, evidently derived
from ideas of affection ; for in those he
contemplates the images of objects that
have most deeply affected his mind with
complacency, tenderness, and joy. To
him, therefore, the scene is certainly beau-
tiful.

CHAPTER II. 227

But when he descends into more fertile
regions, does he there view the face of na-
ture with indifference or disgust ? Does
he hold in great contempt the taste of him,
who, as he sits by the oozy banks of some
slowly gliding stream, marks with com-
placency the bushy pollards which denote
its course through the distant meadows ?
Does he sneer at the satisfaction with
which the inhabitant of the cultivated vale
contemplates flat fields waving with corn,
and well fed herds ruminating beneath the
shade of lofty oaks or spreading beeches ? —
He doubtless piques himself much on his
own superior taste ; but on what grounds
are his claims to this superiority founded ?
Is it his own want of perception with re-
gard to the images of peace and plenty,
and rural industry, and rural happiness and
comfort, that entitles him to scoff at the
man in whose mind these ideas are asso-
ciated with the scene which he has con-
temptuously pronounced insipid ? His
^attention never having been given to such

228 ESSAY III.

objects, he cannot perceive in them the
analogies which,- when they are perceived,
excite correspondent emotions. His want
of perception is, therefore, no subject of
censure ; but it is surely no subject of
triumph, no proof of superior taste !

• »'.'. > '\'n iJiM&iion '/ -.•• ,\i yuj ''^'-•'
It then remains to be asked, why the
person whose attention has been occupied
by those images which are presented to the
mind amid scenes of cultivation, should not
consider himself as superior in taste to the
man who views such scenes without any
perception of their beauty ? Why does he,
when dragged through the horrid glen,
where he sees only the images of solitude,
sterility, and desolation, silently acquiesce
in the eulogium pronounced by his con-
ductor on the sublimity and beauty of the
scene ? —

Because the bold features of romantic
scenery have ever been described to him as
objects that are admired by all persons of

CHAPTER II. 229

taste. He consequently thinks he ought
to admire them, he goes prepared to admire
them, and if they excite emotions in his
mind very remote from those excited by
the1 exercise of any of the affections, he
does not dare to acknowledge it. He con-
ceives, that in confessing himself incapable
of enjoying pleasure from the sight of ob-
jects which others profess to behold with
ecstasy, he should make an acknowledg-
ment of his inferiority, and be accused of
stupidity or dulness. What relief would it
afford him to be assured, that the want of
taste he has in this instance evinced, is no
proof that he is not susceptible of the
emotions of taste, but simply proves, that
his attention has hitherto been exclusively
directed to certain classes of the various
objects that are equally calculated to excite
these emotions.

230 ESSAY III.

CHAPTER III.

Taste cultivated through the medium of descriptions
that excite the imagination. Effects of confining the
attention to certain models. Criticism. Important
consequences resulting from it. Conclusion*

THE examples produced in the last chap-
ter do by no means authorize us to con-
clude, that the emotions of taste can only
be experienced to the extent of our actual
observation. The man who never saw a
mountain in his life may have his imagina-
tion'so stored with corresponding ideas, that
at first sight it shall produce trains of asso-
ciations replete with delight ; while, on the
other hand, the man who has all his days
been confined within the rocky boundary,
may have connected so many pleasing ima-
ges with the idea of flowery lawns an4

CHAPTER III. 231

peaceful groves, as to be immediately
charmed with the scenes in which he per-
ceives those images to be realized.

Even by the inhabitant of the dusky city,
imprisoned as he is by stone walls envelop-
ed in smoke, the emotions of sublimity and
beauty may doubtless be experienced in
nearly as great perfection as by those who
have enjoyed more ample opportunity of
contemplating the sublime and beautiful iu
the works of nature. For as the emotions
of taste are not only delightful but salutary
to the human mind, it has pleased our
heavenly Father to make such provision
for our enjoyment of them, that to every
heart in which the affections glow, sources
are opened, whence this purest of pleasures
may be derived. Even where the fair face
of nature is a stranger to the sight, the
imagination may be warmed by a descrip-
tion of her charms. And as objects pre-
senting to the mind the ideas of utility, or
of propriety, fitness, symmetry, and con-

232 ESSAY III.

gruity, or their opposites, are every where
to be seen ; emotions consequent on the
perception of those qualities may be ex-
perienced by all to whom they become ob-
jects of attention. The man who aspires
to the possession of critical taste, multiplies
these associations, by connecting with the
idea of each of their several qualities, all
the rich store of imagery derived from the
perusal of works in which they have been
exhibited or analyzed. With a mind thus
prepared, he, in beholding the forms and
colouring of nature, as they are reflected
in the mirrors which poetry and painting
hold up to his view, nicely discriminates
between what is intrinsically beautiful and
that which is accidentally beautiful : The
former deriving its beauty from associa-
tions that have an universal influence ; the
latter, from associations that are casual and
temporary. The critic who departs from
this rule of judgment, and condemns, as
destitute of beauty, that which is intrinsi-
, cally beautiful, or gives the praise of beauty

CHAPTER III. 233

to that which possesses no beauty but
what is local or fictitious, we may without
hesitation pronounce unqualified for the
high office which he has assumed. He may,
it is true, be wholly unconscious of the de-
fect in his title, or endeavour to cover the
flaw by the high tone of infallibility ; but
when an appeal is made to the heart, his
decisions will be -utterly reversed. It will
then be discovered, that the interest ex-
cited by descriptions which derived all
their power to charm from associations
that were merely accidental, cannot, by
any art, be prolonged beyond the memory
of the circumstances in which it originated.
While, on the other hand, such of the com-
positions of genius as address the imagina-
tion through the medium of associations
that have an universal influence, will be
found to possess a principle of vitality,
through which they will be enabled to
resist the assaults of time, and to survive
the more violent attacks of tasteless criti-

234 ESSAY III.

cism.* According to the observations made
in the preceding Essay, it must follow, that
when attention has not been habitually di-
rected to the discovery of beauties, there
will be no immediate perception of beau-
ty ; and that when attention is habitually
given to faults and blemishes, it will be
in the discovery of faults and imperfections
only, that the discernment will be quick
and penetrating.

Such habits of mind must necessarily be
inimical to the cultivation of taste ; nor
from the person who has acquired them
need we expect that discrimination which
carefully distinguishes between intrinsic
and fictitious beauty. It is vain to ima-

* It may be proper to observe, that when I speak of
critics, or of criticism, I apply the terms generally to
all who pretend to be judges of composition in literature
or the arts, and to the judgments they pronounce, and
do not by any means intend, that the remarks I make on
these should be considered as exclusively applicable to
professed critics or their writings.

CHAPTER III. 235

g-ine, that the person who does not discern
should ever point out to us those qualities,
or combinations of qualities, which, from
being associated with certain ideas of affec-
tion, are calculated to delight the imagina-
tion and the heart. We again repeat, that
this power of discrimination is only to be
obtained by that enlarged exercise of at-
tention, which produces an immediate per-
ception of those analogies and resemblances
that are no sooner perceived than they ex-
cite some emotion of affection. It mav

V

farther be observed, that if attention, in-
stead of having been directed to the nature
of these emotions, has been exclusively
occupied in the study of certain rules of
art, and in the productions in which these
rules are exemplified, these will become
the only measure of excellence. The taste
will thus be formed upon a certain model,
and within its narrow precincts all the
notions of sublimity and beauty will con-
tinually dwell

236' ESSAY III.

A person of this description, in contem-
plating that model, may doubtless expe-
rience the emotions of taste ; but, blindly
guided by the rules and precepts which
first led him to perceive and feel its beau-
ties, he will judge of every work within
the province of taste by a fictitious standard,
and applaud or censure as the object under
examination corresponds with or falls short
of that standard.

We may be permitted to doubt, whether
the satisfaction derived from beholding
the rules of art exemplified, can, however
great, be with propriety termed an emo-
tion of taste, unless connected with ideas
of sympathy and affection ; and never in
the mind of one whose attention has been
solely occupied in examining the corres-
pondence between the object and the rule,
will this connexion take place.

To the connoisseur in the fine arts, whose
taste has thus been formed, the festive

CHAPTER III.

scene of the marriage at Cana, and the mas-
sacre of the innocents, the raising of Laza-
rus, and the flaying of St Bartholomew,
are not only viewed with equal satisfac-
tion, but with feelings exactly similar.
He beholds, with equal rapture, the repre-
sentation of scenes exemplifying the wild
excess of human cruelty, and the most
heart-touching proofs of divine benevo-
lence ; for his attention being occupied in
comparing the productions of the artist's
pencil with the rules of the art, no emo-
tions corresponding with the scenes pour-
trayed are excited in his mind. It is from
thus exclusively directing the attention
towards those qualities in a picture which
are associated with the ideas of excel-
lence, conceived from certain models, that
the representation of subjects from which
the imagination recoils with horror, is not
only tolerated, but approved, by the con-
noisseur, who piques himself on his supe-
rior taste.

238 ESSAY III.

Hence, scenes that are naturally associat-
ed with ideas of the most painful or un-
pleasant nature, and are calculated to excite
emotions of disgust, or sorrow, or indigna-
tion, are placed before our eyes, in apart-
ments dedicated to the enjoyment of the
social pleasures. Hence, also, even in the
houses of persons who are acknowledged
candidates for those abodes where nothing
immodest or impure shall enter, pictures
are exhibited, which it would be in vain to
reconcile with any notions of that mental
purity, of which all, nevertheless, pretend to
estimate the value. In every such instance
we behold the proofs of that deficiency of
taste, which is the certain consequence of
habitually confining our attention to cer-
tain qualities in such objects as are calcu-
lated to excite the emotions of taste, with-
out taking into consideration other qualities
in the same objects, that may tend to excite
emotions of a very opposite description.
But the person whose taste is entirely
formed on certain rules and examples, will

CHAPTER III.

not easily be convinced that his taste has
not been strictly cultivated.

If architecture be the subject on which
his critical taste is to be displayed, we shall
find, that no ideas connected with the hu-
man beings for whom the fabric is to be
reared, influence his judgment. Utility,
convenience, and comfort, may, in minds
whose sensibility has been awakened by at-
tention to human feelings, excite emotions
of beauty, but his ideas of beauty have been
derived from other sources. It is to the forms
exhibited in the architectural monuments
of Grecian taste and genius, and to the
rules prescribed by those who have made
the remains of ancient magnificence their
peculiar study, that he refers ; denying the
character of beauty to whatever differs from
tbat only form, which, on great authority,
he deems beautiful.

The same observations are in some mea-
sure applicable to the literary critic, who,

240 ESSAY III.

having stored his mind with ideas of the
sublime and beautiful from the choice works
of ancient and modern authors, experiences
a certain emotion of taste, as often as he
meets in any work he peruses, passages that
correspond with those preconceived notions.
They are the standard by which he mea-
sures the sublimity or beauty of whatever
is imagined or described ; and his attention
being solely directed to the discovery of
qualities that have some analogy or resem-
blance to those which are comprised within
his rule of excellence, all that are without
that rule must necessarily escape his obser-
vation. If poetry has for sucl) a person any
charms, it is because the subjects of poetry
having been in all ages nearly similar, and
the material world the store-house from
which all have borrowed the imagery that
serves the double purpose of illustration
and ornament, it is hardly possible to read
any poem, without finding in it ideas that
have occurred to the great masters of the
art, however varied by new combinations.

CHAPTER III. 241

The poet, therefore, who expresses his ad-
miration of rural objects in general, or even
descends to the minute description of any
particular scene, provided he describes in
terms sanctioned by classical authority,
may, on classical authority, be not only
tolerated but admired. Should he, how-
ever, venture to look at nature with his
own eyes, and to describe the emotions
which he truly feels; if these emotions are
produced by qualities that have escaped
the observation of the critic, their con-
nexion with the natural sympathies of the
human heart will be of no avail to save
the work in which they are described from
condemnation.

To the secluded poet, who has resigned
himself to the contemplation of nature in
her sequestered scenes, the first daisy which
opens its bosom to the spring, the first bird
which denotes the influence of the genial
season by its warblings, the first murmurs
of the streamlet on being freed from its icy

VOL. I. Q

ESSAY III.

shackles, are objects that excite vivid and
rapturous emotion; for to him they are
images of tenderness, and hope, and joy.
But what are daisies, and singing birds,
and rivulets, to the town-bred critic? If
associated in his mind with what he may
have conceived or experienced of the dull
and tiresome monotony of a country life,
solitude, silence, rusticity, ignorance, &c.
how can he possibly discover any analogy
between such objects, and qualities that
excite sympathetic affection ? What can
the critic in such circumstances do, but
refer to the authority of some Greek, or
Latin, or Italian poet, an acknowledged
master of the art ? He does so. He com-
pares the work of the modern with that of
the ancient, and, if it deviates from the
standard, he piques himself on the dis-
covery of the deviation, and imagines, that
by condemning it in toto, he gives an un-
doubted proof of his superior taste. But
if, in minds more intimately acquainted
with the varied aspects of nature, the-

CHAPTER III. 243

description produces emotions similar to
those experienced by the poet, it is evi-
dent the critic's verdict ought to be set
aside as partial or erroneous.

k -v»j-t. '>•-,«• -,!<• •{-.••. ':,.,< „-? ,'.,., ?.,.;„

Nor is it only with respect to the asso-
ciations from which descriptive poetry de-
rives its power to charm, that the critic,
who has his attention fixed on any given
model, will pronounce false and mistaken
judgment.

Of all the infinite variety of ways in which
each of the human passions may operate,
as they are affected by peculiarities in the
character or situation of the individual,
he imagines, that none can in description
excite sympathetic emotion, unless accom-
panied with all the circumstances that have
been connected with it in those productions
of genius from which he has derived his
notions of excellence. While all avenues
to the heart, save one alone, are thus ren-

ESSAY Til.

dered inaccessible, it can indeed be only
seldom that it will happen to be reached.

But though the sensibility of such a
mind can be but rarely, and with difficulty,
awakened, it may nevertheless occasionally
be strongly excited ; and will be thus
excited, whenever that particular key is
struck, which produces the same trains of
thought that have been produced in con-
templating the models to which his atten-
tion has been confined. Nor ought we
to be astonished at the enthusiasm with
which he may, on such occasions, express
his feelings ; nor ought we, from a recol-
lection of his former insensibility, to charge
him with inconsistency or affectation ;
since he may certainly have been in both
instances alike sincere. For as, to the per-
son who has paid no attention to the com-
binations in music that are productive of
harmony, the finest musical composition
appears only a tiresome repetition of un-
meaning sounds; so, to the person who

CHAPTER III. 245

has paid no attention to the nature of those
qualities, which, by assimulating with the
affections of the heart, produce the emo-
tions of sublimity or beauty, descriptions
that are sublime or beautiful may seem
unnatural or absurd. And, as in the
former case, the man who has no per-
ception of beauty in any of the musical
productions of the German or Italian
schools, may, at the same time, expe-
rience much delight in listening to the
simple melodies with which he associ-
ates the pleasing ideas of his infant joys
or youthful loves; so, in the latter, may
he who has no perception of beauty in
general, as depending on associations that
have an universal influence, be suscep-
tible of tender emotion from beauties of
some particular class : And I am thorough-
ly persuaded, that, were the truth to be
known, we should perceive this to be no
rare occurrence. But, is the person whose
taste is thus defective, conscious of the
defect? From observation I should sup-

246 ESSAY III.

pose, that the question may iii general be
answered in the negative ; for who is there,
among the numbers that pretend to criti-
cism, that does not deem himself qualified
to decide upon the merits of every work
that falls within the province of taste ?

Hence we may conclude, that the same
blindness to our own deficiencies, which
we observe to take place in respect to the
defects in the faculties of perception, judg-
ment, &c. likewise takes place with regard
to the defects in taste. And as, while we
remain unconscious of the defect in either
instance, we will never make exertions for
removing it, it is of great importance to
our improvement, that we on all occasions
carefully reflect on what passes in our
minds, when we applaud or condemn any
of the productions of genius ; ever remem-
bering, that in as far as our notions of
beauty or deformity are influenced by
associations that are arbitrary, or casual,
or peculiar to ourselves, or to any class or

CHAPTER III. 24?

description of persons, in so far they are
not worthy of being intruded upon others.
This caution deserves attention from those
who are desirous of improving their taste ;
for such, alas ! is the infirmity of human
nature, that when we have once permitted
ourselves to speak in a decided tone of
approbation or dislike, we must be pos-
sessed of no ordinary candour, if pride and
self-love does not bribe our judgment to
affirm the decree ! It is also advisable,
that, as often as we hear various and oppo-
site opinions pronounced by persons whose
intellectual endowments are equally res-
pectable, we should, instead of implicitly
adopting the sentiments of either party,
endeavour to penetrate into their several
minds so far as to discover, by what associa-
tions each is influenced. Where bare asser-
tion alone is offered, no respect for the
asserter's talents ought, in matters of taste,
so far to influence our judgment, as to make
us believe that there are no beauties where
he sees none, or no defects where he pro-

248 ESSAY III.

nounces all to be perfection. Where opi-
nion is supported by argument, it is our
right, it is our duty, to examine the strength
and cogency of the arguments offered in
its support. Should these, upon examina-
tion, seem calculated merely to strengthen
the force of objections to certain trivial
and subordinate parts, while thousands of
beauties are permitted to pass unnoticed,
or, at most, obtain a faint and reluctant
applause ; we may assure ourselves, that
the critic is destitute of the feelings, or
incapable of the perceptions, essential to
taste. If his want of taste proceed from
want of feeling, he is, with regard to the
objects of taste, as a man born blind ; if
from habitual inattention to those qualities
that are associated with ideas of affection,
he is in the state of one whose eyes are
covered with a film, that may, by time,
and care, and persevering attention, be
removed ; but, in either instance, he is not
qualified to act as a guide in the region of
taste.

CHAPTER III. 249

It may farther be observed, that as
the person whose notions of sublimity and
beauty have been formed on any given rule,
or confined to any particular model, can
but rarely find, in any of the objects of
taste, his own peculiar notions exempli-
fied, he can be but rarely pleased or gra-
tified. He will, hcrwever, be prompt to
perceive every departure from his rule, and
equally prompt in pronouncing it a blemish.
The more limited his field of observation,
and the more contracted his notions of ex-
cellence, the more assured and arrogant
will be the tone in which his censures are
pronounced. Nor will this appear surpris-
ing, when we consider, that as judgment is
incapable of operating beyond the limits
to which attention has been habitually
confined, these must appear to him as the
ne plus ultra of its operations. And as it
moreover requires a much greater effort of
discrimination to discover, in any of the
creations -of genius, ideas or qualities,
which, from association, are productive of

250 ESSAY III.

the emotions of beauty, than it <loes to
perceive when they fall short of the pre-
conceived standard, W€ may naturally ex-
pect, that, under such circumstances, the
attention should be chiefly directed to the
discovery of faults.

When we take into consideration, that
the number of acquirements essentially
and indispensably requisite, as a prepa-
ration for the exercise of critical taste,
can only be attained by extensive obser-
vation, and an intimate acquaintance, not
only with the works of genius, but with
the nature of those associations by which
the sympathies and affections of the heart
are influenced in the perception of beauty,
— we may conclude, that critical taste is
rarely to be attained by the young, and
never by the ignorant. Yet who so apt as
the young and ignorant to point out the
petty blemish in any work of taste or
imagination, whose merits they unfortu-
nately happen to discuss ? It may safely

CHAPTER III. 251

be averred, that, from habits thus acquir-
ed, just and discriminating taste will never
spring. The habit of indiscriminate admi-
ration is to the young far less dangerous,
as less destructive of sensibility. But the
person who is bent on the improvement of
taste, ought carefully to avoid all mental
habits inimical to its cultivation. As the
young are, however, very apt to conceive
criticism and censure to be synonymous
terms, it may be proper to observe to
them, that the man whose sensibility has
not been exercised at the expense of his
judgment, will, from the exercise of judg-
ment, frequently discover blemishes and
imperfections in works of taste or ima-
gination, destructive of the emotions of
beauty. But if his attention has been di-
rected generally to the qualities exciting
those emotions, he will not circumscribe
his notions of the sublime or beautiful,
within the narrow limits of his own expe-
rience, or the experience of any other in-
dividual. He will perceive with pleasure,

252 ESSAY III.

that the sources of emotions so productive
of enjoyment, are infinite and inexhausti-
ble, and rejoice in every proof that offers,
of the boundless variety of those associa-
tions, by which an infinite number of the
objects that present themselves to the senses
or to the imagination, may be so connected
with the ideas of affection as to afford de-
light, various and extensive as the sources
from which it springs. The person who
has thus in his mind laid the foundation of
ajust and discriminating taste, will have his
judgment improved rather than influenced,
by his acquaintance with the writings of
professed masters in the school of criticism.
He will study them, not merely as autho-
rities to which he may refer, but in order
to reap from the study, the important ad-
vantage of opening a wider field for the
exercise of his judgment, by awakening his
attention to objects which might otherwise
have escaped his observation. Whether
poetry, or eloquence, or painting, or sculp-
ture, has particularly attracted his atten-

CHAPTER III. 253

tion, his intimate acquaintance with the
most finished productions in any of these
noble arts, will not induce him to consider
all sublimity and beauty to be comprised
in these patterns of excellence. But the
more attention he has bestowed on what
is in its kind most perfect, the more
quickly will he perceive, and the more
sensibly will he be affected on perceiv-
ing, excellencies of a similar description;
for those will to him have a double
charm, not only as exciting trains of ideas,
which elevate the mind by their sublimity,
or touch the heart by sympathetic tender-
ness, but from being associated with the
ideas of the genius, penetration, sensibility,
and wisdom, of those whose talents have
been deemed the ornaments of human
nature.'

It is true, that where taste has thus
been cultivated, the perception of circum-
stances that tend to weaken the impression,
will destroy those feelings of admiration

254 ESSAY III.

with which the same object may be viewed
by less discerning eyes. The judgment
which he evinces, affords not, however, any
support to the opinion so rashly adopted
by the vain and ignorant, who seem to ima-
gine, that a blindness to beauties, and a
quick perception of blemishes, are infallible
proofs of taste. We have, on the contrary,
abundant reason to conclude, that when a
perception of beauties, and a susceptibility
of the consequent emotions, does not pre-
cede and accompany the perception of the
circumstances which tend to weaken the
impression, taste will never be cultivated
or improved, or habitually exercised.

A tendency to find fault being one of the
most formidable obstacles to that general
cultivation of taste, for which every person
capable of appreciating its moral influence
must be anxious, it seems peculiarly incum-
bent on those who, from their acknowledged
talents, obtain such influence over the public
mind, as to have it in their power to direct

CHAPTER III. 255

the current of thought throughout a nation,
to employ the influence they have thus ho-
nourably acquired to noble purposes. It is
theirs to lead the attention to the contem-
plation of what is beautiful and excellent ;
to direct admiration to its proper objects ;
and, by diffusing the principles of just and
refined taste, to ameliorate the dispositions,
increase the virtues, and augment the hap-
piness of society.

To those just entering upon life, it is
of great importance to have their notions
concerning the principles of taste so far
enlightened, as to prevent their falling
into habits which are inimical to its culti-
vation. Let them then be assured, from
authority to which they defer, that by habits
of cavilling and censure the mind will be
chained down to the contemplation of what
is mean and grovelling. Incapable of a
noble elevation of sentiment or feeling, it
will derive no pleasure from literature or
the arts, except as they afford the means of

256 ESSAY III.

exercising an ingenuity nearly connected
with spleen and malice.

Far from depreciating the value of criti-
cism, I am anxious to shew how vast is the
importance, how extensive are the conse-
quences resulting to society, from that cul-
tivation of taste, which ought to be the
object of the critic's labours. If the prin-
ciples of taste be in reality such as they have
been described, the state of mind indispen-
sable to the enjoyment of the emotions of
sublimity and beauty, must be highly salu-
tary to our moral feelings ; for as, according
to these principles, the emotions of taste
are not to be experienced from the exercise
either of our intellectual or moral powers
separately, but from the exercise of both
united, the improvement of taste is the
improvement, not only of certain faculties
of the understanding, but of the best affec-
tions of the heart. A just and refined taste
will consequently lead to just and elevated
views and sentiments with regard to human

CHAPTER III.

conduct. By enabling us to feel and to
relish what is sublime and beautiful in the
actions and sentiments of intelligent beings,
it quickens our perception of excellence ;
and though it must at the same time in-
crease our discernment of the reverse, while
influenced by the dispositions essential to
the exercise of taste, it will not be to the
discovery of blemishes and imperfections
that our attention will be chiefly directed.

In judging of the conduct of his neigh-
bours, as in judging of the works of the pain-
ter or poet, the man of cultivated taste de-
cides on principles that have an acknowledg-
ed and universal authority. The habits of
his mind are not such as to induce him to set
his own notions, or those that are peculiar
to his friends or his party, as a standard of
perfection. Where he perceives pious affec-
tions, virtuous intentions, and honourable
feelings, to be prominent features in the
character, it does not detract from his plea-
sure in contemplating it, to perceive, that

VOL. I. R

ESSAY III.

it is not an exact counterpart to characters
which are likewise the objects of his admi-
ration. Far less does he censure, as faults
unpardonable, whatever is done or said in a
manner foreign to that in which he has
been accustomed to act and speak. It is
only where false notions of taste and criti-
cism have obtained? an influence, that habits
of detraction will ever become prevalent,
and, wherever they prevail, they will in-
fallibly render the heart insensible to the
sympathetic emotions of virtue.

To the person whose taste has been truly
cultivated, — " whatever is lovely or be-
loved in the character of mind; whatever
in the powers or dispositions of man can
awaken admiration- or excite sensibility ;
the loveliness of innocence, the charms of
opening genius, the varied tenderness of
domestic affection, the dignity of heroic,
or the majesty of patriotic virtue,"* — air

* Essay on the Principles of Taste.

CHAPTER III. 259

will awaken in his heart the correspondent
emotion of sublimity or beauty.

When he looks on the material world,
he receives from the forms and colouring of
nature, ideas which, on comparison, he finds
assimulate with ideas of affection. When
he looks abroad into the moral world, he
perceives, amid all the darkness and dis-
order which sin has introduced, qualities
associated with the idea of that all-perfect
Being, who is the object of his continual
veneration. How justly then may we con-
sider it as one of the proofs of infinite be-
nignity in the Creator and Framer of our
spirits, that he has rendered us capable of
that peculiar exercise of the faculties and
affections productive of the emotions of
taste !

In contemplating these emotions in the
light in which they have here been viewed,
they seem to form, as it were, a connecting
link, uniting two distinct principles of our

26*0 ESSAY III.

nature, and blending the intellectual and
moral powers in one simultaneous operation.
Hence arises new and powerful motives to
the cultivation of taste ; — motives, than
which none more noble or more dignified
can actuate the human heart : Originating
in the desire of improving all the faculties
by which man is distinguished from infe-
rior natures, and all the affections by which
he is elevated to the rank of a moral agent,
they tend to direct his attention to what-
ever is beautiful or excellent in the uni-
verse which he inhabits; not merely as ob-
jects whereon to exercise his judgment, but
as signs of qualities that expand the heart
with emotions of sympathy, or elevate and
purify the soul by the sublimer sentiments
of piety and devotion.

ESSAY IV.

ON THE

PROPENSITY TO MAGNIFY

THE IDEA OF

SELF.

ESSAY IV.

ON THE PROPENSITY TO MAGNIFY THE
IDEA OF SELF.

CHAPTER I.

Preliminary observations on the necessity of taking all
the principles of the mind into consideration, in
studying them with a view to self-improvement.
Consequences of confining the attention to certain of
the mental phenomena exemplified. Propensity to
magnify the idea of self, to be distinguished from
selfishness and from self-love.

FROM the view that has been given in the
preceding Essays, of the effects resulting
from a .confined and partial exercise of

attention, we mav be led to infer, that if

./

we would preserve our minds from preju-
dice and error, we must, on every subject

264 ESSAY IV.

deserving our consideration, endeavour to
obtain clear and distinct views of the whole ;
and where it is in its nature complex, be
specially on our guard against forming an
opinion of the whole, by that part which
has accidentally engaged our first attention.
" We are all," says Mr Locke, " short-
sighted, and very often see one side of a
matter. Our views are not extended to
all that has a connexion with it. We see
but in part, and we know but in part ; and
therefore 'tis no wonder we conclude not
right from our partial views. This might
instruct the proudest esteemer of his own
parts, how useful it is to talk and consult
with others, even such as come short of him
in capacity and penetration; for since no
one sees all, and we generally have different
prospects of the same thing, according to
our different positions to it, it is not incon-
gruous to think, nor beneath any man to
try, whether another may not have notions
of things that have escaped him, and which

CHAPTER I. 265

his reason would make use of, if it came
into his mind."

This observation particularly deserves
attention from those who seek to obtain a
knowledge of the constituent principles of
the human mind, as a mean of self-improve-
ment. It is of some consequence to be
aware, that in order to render the know-
ledge we acquire on this important subject
practically useful, we must extend our
observations, and give an equal share of
attention to the active principles, which it
is our duty to regulate, as to the intellectual
ones, which it is our duty to improve. If
it be not in our power to devote the time
and thought that would be requisite, in
order to enable us minutely to investigate
all the several operations of the several
principles that enter into the frame and
constitution of our nature, we ought to aim
at obtaining such views of the whole, as
may prevent us from exaggerating the
relative importance of one or other of those

ESSAY IV.

powers or principles, which, as they have
all been implanted by divine wisdom, are
all formed to answer purposes alike impor-
tant

That the evil which arises from the habit
of contemplating human nature only in one
particular respect, greatly overbalances all
that is gained by the more accurate know-
ledge that is obtained of those powers or
faculties whose operations have thus en-
grossed the attention, will, on examining
any of the various theories to which such
partial views of the nature of the human
mind have given rise, be rendered extreme-
ly obvious.

By men of studious habits, whose atten-
tion has been chiefly, if not exclusively,
occupied by the operations of intellect,
man has sometimes been considered as a
being purely intellectual ; capable, solely
by the exertion of his reason, of obtaining
that ascendency over all the inferior princi-

CHAPTER I. 267

pies of his nature, as must put it in his
power to become completely virtuous.
This is, indeed, the almost inevitable con-
clusion in which we shall be apt to rest, if
we select the powers of the understanding
as objects of exclusive attention. For,
when we contemplate the glorious nature
of the intellectual faculties, and take into
consideration the provision that has been
made in the agency of attention for increas-
ing their strength and facilitating their
operations, we find i\ impossible to set
limits to the degree to which they may be
cultivated ; and if we fail to take into the
account, the nature and strength of those
active principles by which the attention is
impelled to other objects than those which
exercise and improve the intellectual powers,
we shall perceive no obstacle to the attain-
ment of perfection.

It is in such partial views of the nature
of mind, that many false or hypothetical
speculations, concerning the past and future

268 ESSAY IV.

destiny of the human race, have originated;
and only by a more enlarged and accurate
observation, that juster notions are to be
obtained. As a farther illustration of this
point, it may be observed, that where men,
in studying human nature, have exclusively
dwelt on those malevolent and depraved
affections which are a fruitful source of
human misery, the effect upon their own
minds has generally been deplorable; the
attention, thus habitually directed, having
seldom failed to promote the operations of
those evil passions and propensities, whose
influence in the breast it is our bounden
duty to lessen and controul. Even where
the consequences of these false, because
confined, views of the human mind, are not
injurious as to the individual, they are, like
all that is false, pernicious in their ten-
dency, as may be clearly seen from the de-
scriptions of human nature, given by per-
sons whose attention has been completely
absorbed in the contemplation of certain of
its active principles. In speaking of those

CHAPTER I.

intellectual faculties, which it is impossible
to contemplate without perceiving in them
the most conspicuous proofs of the wisdom
and goodness of the divine Creator, we
find them constantly endeavouring to de-
preciate their utility, and to deny their
excellence : And this without perceiving
the incongruity of imagining, that they do
homage to God by vilifying and degrading
the noblest of his works. The benevolent
affections share the same fate, and are re-
presented as altogether vile and useless.
So effectually does the ideas imbibed from
a partial consideration of certain principles
in the mind of man, exclude from their
view all the provision that our Creator has
made for counteracting them, as to over-
spread the whole with uniform darkness.

By directing the attention, on the other
hand, solely to the nature and operations
of the benevolent affections, though we may
thereby learn, to appreciate and applaud
them, we at the same time learn to think

270 ESSAY iv.

of ourselves, and of our nature, " more
highly than we ought to think," and thus
become the ready prey of passions, against
whose assaults we are hot prepared to
guard. Perpetually fixing our eyes on the
bright side of human character, and dis-
cerning neither spot nor blemish, we are
apt to conclude, that none in reality exist,
and that we have only to follow the amia-
ble impulses of our own hearts, in order to
walk securely in the path that leads to
glory and immortality. This species of
self-delusion is indeed never practised by
any but amiable minds ; and as it is neces-
sarily accompanied by feelings of benevo-
lence, may appear no proper object of cen-
sure. Bat to say nothing of the frequent
mortifications and disappointments to which
we must, from such false views of human
nature, be inevitably exposed ; such no-
tions, when seriously entertained, cannot
fail to prove inimical to our improvement
in wisdom and virtue, by leading us to ne-
glect the means assigned by Providence

CHAPTER I. 271

for accomplishing the great ends of our
being.

If such are the consequences of limiting
our observations to one particular branch
of the mental phenomena, it does not seem
necessary to apologize for the attempt I
am about to make, to draw the attention
of my readers to some of the peculiar ope-
rations of one of the most active principles
of our nature, though these appear to me in
a light somewhat different from that in
which they have been usually represented.

From observing what passes in the minds
of children, before they have acquired the
art of concealing the motives by which
they are actuated, we are in a manner com-
pelled to infer, that besides the appetites
which direct to the preservation of life,
there are certain desires or propensities
interwoven in the frame of our nature,
which operate spontaneously, and arrive at
mature strength, long before the intellec-

272 ESSAY iv.

tual faculties have been sufficiently exer-
cised to be capable of more than a limited
and occasional exertion. The same rest-
less desire, termed by Solomon, " the folly
that is bound up in the heart of a child,"
continues through every period of life to
exert its influence in the human breast : It
occasionally blends with all the operations
of intellect, and, in most of those pursuits
in which the life of man is spent, will be
found, on examination, to have been the
primary motive to exertion. Yet, strange
to tell, this active principle is still without
a name. Being wholly ignorant of any
term by which it might with propriety be
designated, I take the liberty of describing
it from its operations, as a propensity to
magnify the idea of self ; thus distinguishing
it from selfishness, and from self-love, with
one or other of which it has been usually,
though, as I conceive, improperly con-
founded.

••""•• . f/S V»{?wv }(.(«";•- t *t* ,,jo •

CHAPTER I. 273

In order to give a clear view of the no-
tions I have formed of the appropriate
meaning of those several terms, it is neces-
sary to state, that I consider self-love as
implying simply the desire of happiness;
a desire which we may observe to be regu-
lated and controlled by the intellectual
powers, and consequently, as to the nature
of its operations, dependant on the direc-
tion given to the power of attention. In
the minds of those whose attention has
been exclusively occupied by mean, or
trifling, or unworthy objects, the desire of
happiness will impel to gratifications of the
same description : Where nobler objects
have engaged the attention, the same prin-
ciple of self-love will, to the mind thus en-
lightened, prove a powerful incentive to
the steady acquisition of knowledge and
the practice of virtue.

Selfishness, on the other hand, I consider
as an inordinate desire of self-gratification,
not dependant on the operation of the m-

VOL. i. s

274 ESSAY IV.

tellectual faculties for the character it as-
sumes, but originating in associations that
connect the idea of happiness with appro-
priating the objects that appear desirable
to the heart, and thus obtaining enjoy-
ments in which none can participate, and
in which none can sympathize. But, ac-
cording to this definition, selfishness ap-
pears in some measure dependant on atten-
tion ; the association above described being
evidently formed by habitual attention to
our own feelings and sensations, and habi-
tual inattention to the feelings and sensa-
tions of others. In this it is radically dif-
ferent from the propensity to enlarge the
idea of self, which depends not on any
peculiar direction of attention for its de-
velopment: and this is the characteristic
by which I consider it to be manifestly dis-
tinguished from all the desires and affec-
tions of the human mind.

From causes which, though probably
connected with peculiarities in the orga-

CHAPTER I. 275

nization of individuals, are placed beyond
the reach of our investigation, one man
may be more disposed to pride, another
to vanity, another to jealousy, or envy,
or resentment ; but the growth of the
passion, in all these instances, percepti-
bly depends on attention to such objects
as afford to the passion a certain degree
of exercise. The passions are, indeed,
inherent, but it is by attention to certain
objects that they are called forth ; and by
habitual attention to such objects, that the
exercise of them becomes habitual. We
are frequently able to trace the course of
a passion, from its birth to its maturity,
and by a faithful representation of the cir-
cumstances which tended to accelerate its
progress, or increase its influence, hold
forth a lesson against directing the atten-
tion to certain objects. But the propensity
to enlarge the idea of self, is too strong
and powerful to be dependant on the ope-
ration of any peculiar circumstances for its
development. Whatever be the tendency

276 ESSAY IV.

of the disposition, whatever be the frame
of temper, it renders the passion that pre-
dominates subservient to its gratification,
and is seen to act with equal energy in the
wise and the ignorant, the timid and the
bold. By the slightest opposition to its
operations the vindictive passions are call-
ed forth ; and indeed so intimately are they
connected with this propensity, that I be-
lieve they might, without impropriety, be
termed its offspring.

As we are in general more capable of
tracing the operation of any powerful prin-
ciple in the conduct of others, than of re-
flecting on the motives which govern our
own, I shall endeavour to illustrate, by
familiar examples, what I have ventured to
advance ; proposing to shew, that in every
instance in which we behold the most strik-
ing proofs of the predominating influence
of pride, vanity, ambition, revenge, &c. we
shall, in whatever manner this ruling pas-
sion operates, on examination, perceive the

CHAPTER I. 277

propensity to enlarge the idea of self, the
prime mover in all its operations ; and be
convinced, that every object from which
the ruling passion derives, or expects to
derive, gratification, is identified with the
idea of self in the mind of the individual.

Nor is it only where the passions of pride
avarice, &c. predominate, that the propen-
sity to magnify the idea of self is plainly
discernible. There is not one of the opera-
tions of the human mind in which it may
not occasionally mingle; riot one, that is
not liable to be rendered subservient to its
gratification. In actions that are gene-
rally deemed indifferent in their nature, we
may frequently detect its operations; and
even among the notions which we deem
completely virtuous, it may sometimes be
found to have insinuated itself. The marks
by which it is to be discovered, are too ob-
vious to be mistaken. In whatever direc-
tion the propensity to expand the idea of
self operates, whatever opposes or thwarts

278 ESSAY iv.

its operation, whatever tends to repress or
diminish that notion of self, which the
principle in question prompts us to endea-
vour to enlarge, tends immediately to pro-
duce in us one or other of the malevolent
affections.

Thus, if the applause of our fellow-crea-
tures be the means resorted to for procur-
ing an enlargement of the idea of self,
whatever seems to threaten us with disap-
pointment excites in us the feelings of
jealousy or envy ; or, if our aim be actual-
ly frustrated, produces our resentment and
aversion. - If it be to objects of ambition
that we are urged, by the propensity to
magnify the idea of self, to direct our
views, the passions excited by opposition
act with still greater force and certainty.
But in whatever way this propensity ope-
rates, as it seldom in any instance fails to
meet with opposition, its operations seldom
fail to be productive of passions or feelings
allied to malevolence.

CHAPTER I. 279

It might be expected, a priori, from the
proofs of divine benignity so evidently
displayed in all the works of God, that
some provision should have been made, in
the constitution of the human mind, for
counteracting and diminishing the influ-
ence of a propensity so pernicious to hu-^
man happiness; and that such provision
has actually been made by the great Crea-
tor, I hope to be able satisfactorily to
prove. But the subject must be reserved
for a future Essay. In the mean time I
shall pursue the inquiry with regard to the
operations of that propensity to enlarge
the idea of self, which, as it appears to me,
is the most active of all the principles in-
herent in the mind of man.

280 ESSAY IV.

mrn /

CHAPTER II.

Manner in which the vain man connects the idea of
self with the objects he describes. Statement of the
operation of the propensity to magnify the idea of
self, in the love of dress ; — in seeking acquaintance
with the great, or distinguished. And in a variety
of other instances.

IN the remarks I propose to make on the
propensity to magnify the idea of self, I
shall begin by examining its operations in
the minds of persons confessedly influenc-
ed by vanity. In these, indeed, it is most
conspicuous ; for where the desire of admi-
ration is extreme, little pains are taken to
conceal how entirely the person identifies
himself with the objects on which his
claim to admiration rests, or by which it is,
as he conceives, substantiated.

CHAPTER. II. 281

Observe how invariably the vain man
endeavours to direct your attention to ob-
jects with which he connects the idea of
self; giving, at the same time,- to every ob-
ject with which he identifies himself, an
imaginary value ; and plainly intimating,
that from his connexion with it he de>-
rives an extraordinary importance. Ac-
cording as the objects are of a nature that
can admit of being in idea appropriated, as
being peculiar to himself, or at least out of
the reach of those to whom he addresses
his conversation, the idea of self expands ;
for he believes, that it is in your mind
magnified to the dimensions in which he is
desirous of appearing to you.

Hence the disposition so observable in
the vain, of making themselves the heroes
of their own stories. It is not sufficient
simply to state a fact, or to relate an event
with all its circumstances ; for with every
fact and every event they mention, it is
to them necessary to be some way or other

282 ESSAY IV.

identified. Rather than lose an opportu-
nity of thus extending the idea of self, a
vain man will claim affinity with persons
who have derived notoriety from infamy ;
and acknowledge his having been privy
to transactions which reflected disgrace on
all concerned.

It is amusing to observe what slender
ties suffice to form those imaginary connec-
tions by which the idea of self is enlarged.
Many seem to have travelled with no other
object in view, than to have it in their
power to say, that it was they who saw
such and such things : The idea of self
extending to every thing they saw, is in-
termingled in the narration with all that
was worthy of admiration in the objects
they beheld. Nay, we find such persons
piquing themselves on having seen what is
admired by others, though they themselves
are incapable of admiring them. In their
eager desire to establish an ideal connexion
with whatever is conspicuous or eminent,

CHAPTER II. 283

they expose to our view the strength of the
propensity by which they are actuated. It
is to the universality of its operations, that
persons who have obtained celebrity are
indebted for the greater part of their soi-
disant friends and admirers : to this pro-
pensity, more than to any opinion of their
superior skill, that the first lawyers, and
first physicians of their day, owe half their
practice; and I may add, that to it also,
more than to any respect for their talents,
are authors of distinguished reputation
indebted for the attention they receive
from many, to whom neither worth nor
talents would, without celebrity, have re-
commended them.

In all these instances we may distinctly
perceive, that with the idea of the glory
accruing from the fame, honour, and ap-
plause, enjoyed by these distinguished cha-
racters, the idea of self is connected in
the mind of him who makes a boast of

284 ESSAY IV.

having seen, conversed with, or consulted
them.

But as rank and fortune are objects
held in still more general estimation than
genius or virtue, it is to such a connexion
with persons of rank and fortune as may
enable him to identify himself with them,
that the vain man will commonly be found
most sedulously to aspire. Hence the
eagerness with which the great are courted
by those who have not the most distant
expectation of reaping any other advan-
tage from their acquaintance, besides that
it affords this species of gratification. — .
That this gratification does not arise merely
from sympathy with the opinions of others,
is evident from observing, how far it ex-
ceeds and outruns that sympathy : No
one thinking that any other person of his
own rank has a right to be as much elated,
on account of the same degree of intimacy
with great personages, as he finds himself
to be elated. The same desire which im-

CHAPTER II. 285

pels him to identify himself with those
whose situation attracts the public atten-
tion, and which he perceives to be the
object of deference and respect, impels
him likewise to appropriate to himself all
the glory that accrues from such connec-
tions : and far from considering, that the
same degree of intimacy with persons of
rank confers on others the same distinc-
tion that it confers upon himself, their pre-
tension on account of it is the object of
his ridicule and censure. This circum-
stance has not escaped the penetrating eye
of Shakespeare. Falstaff, though he was
himself not deficient in vanity, instantly
detects the folly of Justice Shallow, in
talking of the feats of his youth, and his
intimacy with John of Gaunt, which, with
characteristic acuteness, he describes to
have been, what the egotisms of vanity
usually are — Eve?y third word a lie. -

The propensity to magnify the idea of
self, does indeed, in the minds of the vain,

286 ESSAY IV.

present such temptations to falsehood as
are generally found irresistible. To a vain
woman, for example, dress is a principal
means of gratifying self-importance ; but,
among persons of equal fortune, all who
set their hearts upon it may obtain similar
articles of finery. What then is to be
done, in order to give to these articles that
imaginary value necessary to gratify the
selfish principle in the mind of the wearer?
The devices that are resorted to in these
circumstances are truly ingenious. Some-
times, it is the veryjirst thing of the kind
that was ever seen ! That produces super-
lative happiness : and next to it, perhaps, in
degree, is the satisfaction of knowing, that
it is the last of the kind that has been im-
ported ; or that, from the death of the
maker, can possibly be procured ! If, un-
fortunately, neither of these circumstances
can be gloried in, the things may be asto-
nishingly cheap, or wonderfully dear : They
may be the very counterpart of what is
worn by a fashionable beauty, or celebrated

CHAPTER II. 287

courtezan ; or they may have been made up
by the milliner or artisan who are most
famous for the enormity of their charges !
Can any of these pretensions be substan-
tiated,— we need only observe the effects
produced, to be convinced that the owner
is, in her own mind, identified with the
objects in which she glories, and that she
imagines herself to be so in yours.

For obvious reasons, it is from my own
sex that I chiefly select examples of this
nature ; but from what I have heard of the
stories related by young men, concerning
the wonderful feats of their dogs and
horses, all tending to magnify themselves
in the opinion of the hearer, by magnifying
the qualities of the animals with which
they connected the idea of self, I think we
may conclude, that the propensity is, in
either sex, equally strong and equally ope-
rative. Of whatever nature the object of
admiration may be, as the idea of self ex-
pands by a connexion with it, it is not sur-

288 ESSAY IV.

prising that, in the eagerness to substan-
tiate that connexion, veracity should be
frequently sacrificed. A very few illustra-
tions may yet be added to justify the truth
of this remark.
19fl tif Q ati'J Ir.iU ijTjfifvrt'o 'id-

As an instance in point, we may observe,
that the praise of excelling in any of the
fine arts affords not a sufficient gratification
to the selfish principle,* unless such praise
can, by some particular circumstance, be
appropriated. It is not enough that we
acknowledge the merit of the performance,
or that we express our warmest admiration
of the genius or skill of the accomplished
person who has produced it. In order to
render our admiration the exclusive pro-
perty of the fair artist, we are compelled

* The reader is requested to notice, that the term
selfish principle, wherever it occurs in this Essay, is
meant to denote the propensity to enlarge the idea of
Self; an operation of the mind totally distinct from self-
ishness, and also different from self-love, as has been ex-
plained at length in the preceding Chapter.
1

CHAPTER II. 289

to take into consideration circumstances
which peculiarly belong to her, and to
which no other person can lay claim. No
matter whether it be extreme youth, or
extreme age ; extraordinary rapidity of
execution, or extraordinary slowness ; whe-
ther she had difficulties to struggle with,
or more than common advantages to boast ;
so that it be something wonderful, the
mention of it will not fail to answer the
purpose of enhancing the value of our admi-
ration, by rendering it appropriate. Every
person of common observation must have
proofs of this in recollection ; and we may
be assured, that while education is so con-
ducted as to render the desire of admira-
tion the ruling impulse of the heart, the
fine arts, as far as they are cultivated, will
inevitably be rendered subservient to the
gratification of that subtle principle, whose
operations are most fatal to human virtue.
Under the influence of this propensity, the
direction given to attention must be highly
unfavourable to the cultivation of taste;

VOL. I. T

290 ESSAY IV.

and accordingly we shall find, that real
taste and great personal vanity are seldom,
if ever, united.

In viewing the full dress of a lady of
fashion, a person who connects no idea of
self with such objects, admires simply the
beauty of the jewels, the taste and inge-
nuity of the artisan, displayed in the man-
ner in which they are cut, and grouped;
the skill of the manufacturer, exhibited in
the delicate fabric of the drapery ; and the
fancy of the dress-maker, who has arranged
the mass of materials to the best advan-
tage. But, by the owner, the skill of the
artisan, the ingenuity of the manufacturer,
the taste of the dress-maker, are considered
in connexion with the idea of self. She
glories in them as her own ; nor is she con-
scious either of incongruity or meanness,
in thus resting her claims to distinction on
the qualifications and endowments of per-
sons, whom she at the same time regards
with utter contempt !

CHAPTER II. 291

Though so helpless as to be incapable of
putting on her clothes without assistance,
instead of being humbled by the conscious-
ness of her own weakness, she attaches the
idea of self to the strength and abilities of
those she hires to attend her ; and the more
she can multiply these attendants, the more
does the idea of self expand. Her personal
weakness, so far from begetting sentiments
of humility, is her boast; for she is strong
in the strength of others; and whatever
strength she can afford to purchase, con-
stitutes, in her mind, a part of the com-
plex idea of self; and by every contriv-
ance of luxury is this idea enlarged.

It is impossible to increase, in any con-
siderable degree, the weight or size of the
corporeal frame: But many are the con-
trivances devised by the selfish principle to
increase the idea of its weight and dimen-
sions. It is this which raises the lofty
ceiling to three times the height of the
human figure, and enlarges the spacious

292 ESSAY iv.

apartments so much beyond all proportion
to the number and size of the inhabitants.
The puny master can inhabit but a corner
of the spacious mansion ; but, in idea, it is
he that fills it. Identifying himself not
only with the servants who compose his
retinue, but with the very guests who feed
at his table, it is for him that, in idea,
the flocks and herds are slaughtered ; for
him, that the south pours forth the pro-
duce of the vintage ; for him, that the
luxuries of the east and west are imported ;
and, little as his single stomach can digest,
it is, in idea, by his individual self that all
he pays for is consumed. He boasts of the
great consumption as a proof of greatness,
and is in his own mind the bigger for it.
With such propriety is the word greatness
on this occasion used.

The idea of increased weight keeps pace

•

with that of increased dimensions. One
horse cannot be supposed capable of draw-
ing so immense a load ! It requires the

CHAPTER II. 293

strength of a pair, or of four, or of six, ac-
cording as the fortune or rank of the indi-
vidual, which is to be displayed by this
indication of an increase of person, renders
it convenient.

It would be extremely curious to trace
the progress of this sentiment in the man-
ners of different ages and nations. While
we in modern Europe are content with
testifying the idea we entertain of the in-
creased ponderance of our persons, by
multiplying the animal strength necessary
to transport us from place to place, the
Asiatics endeavour to realize the idea, by
using every means to swell the size of their
persons to something like an equality with
their fortune. Corpulency, among the ori-
ental nations, is deemed an essential con-
comitant of exalted station. A great man
thinks he gains in respectability what he
loses in activity ; and, consequently, in-
creases in pride as he increases in fat.
Many allusions to this circumstance are

294 ESSAY iv.

met with in the Psalms of David, and other
parts of the old Testament; and which, to
those who are unacquainted with the man-
ners of the eastern nations, must be wholly
unintelligible.

It might perhaps be clearly proved, that
in order to form a judgment of the degree
of refinement, and of mental cultivation,
that subsisted at any given period, we need
only observe in what mode the propensity
to enlarge the idea of self sought its grati-
fication. I imagine we should find, that in
proportion as the value of intellectual en-
dowments is understood, it is by things
that denote the exertion of intellect, that
the idea of self is expanded ; and that it is
only when intellect but feebly operates,
that it is strictly and inseparably connected
with the external frame.

In this point of view, the various devices
employed by men in the savage state to
increase in appearance their bodily dimen-

CHAPTER II.

sions, admit of easy explanation. Instead
of affording a proof of sagacity, as the re-
sult of a studied plan to strike terror into
the hearts of their enemies, they afford a
proof, that the device of enlarging the idea
of self, is, from mental imbecility, confined
in its operations to what is strictly personal.
By the strength of this propensity they are
impelled to wage war with nature, and to
mar her works. Not satisfied with the di-
mensions she has given to the human ear,
they, by slitting it, contrive to stretch it to
an enormous size ; and in the same manner
exert their ingenuity in altering the propor-
tions, and changing the colour of the human
form. But in the most savage tribes, it is
the chiefs of the nation only that dare as-
pire to this- painful pre-eminence. Women
and slaves are doomed to remain as nature
formed them. To them, no means of en-
larging the idea of self is accessible, but
that of connecting it with the idea of the
chief to whom they of right belong. No
notion of their individuality seems indeed

296 ESSAY IV.

to be entertained : They are merely viewed
as living clods permitted to breathe during
the pleasure of the owner, and are conse-
quently supposed to have no right to live
after he has paid the debt of nature. Ac-
cording to the accounts of the Spanish
writers, the practice of immolating the
wives and slaves of a deceased warrior, at
the performance of the funeral rites, was
common to all the American tribes ; the
number of the victims bearing a proportion
to the rank and power of the chief whose ob-
sequies were thus cruelly celebrated : And
if (as we are assured from good authority)
the sacrifice was frequently on the part of
the victims voluntary, and even courted as
an honour, it affords a very striking proof
how completely they had identified the
idea of their own glory with the idea of
their master's glory.

But perhaps there is not in the history
of man any circumstance so completely
demonstrative of the power of the propen-

CHAPTER II.

sity of which I treat, as the practice of
infanticide, peculiar to some of the Hindoo
tribes ; and cherished, and gloried in, as
distinguishing them from tribes of inferior
antiquity.

It is a fact established beyond all dispute,
that the Jarejahs, in particular, have for
many hundred years made it an invariable
rule to murder every female infant born
to them, and that the numbers annually
destroyed among them amount to little
less than 20,000. The mothers of these
infants are of course descended from other
tribes. They have been born and educated
where no such inhuman practice prevails:
Their hearts have not been hardened in
their tender years, by witnessing barbarity ;
nor have they been familiarized to the
thoughts of murder. What, then, should
prevent in their breasts the yearnings of
maternal love ? What should arrest the
flow of maternal affection ? Though pride
or policy may sear the feelings of the bru-

298 ESSAY iv.

tal father, one should imagine that instinct
alone would have sufficient power to over-
come all these motives in the mother's
breast ; and that by nothing short of force
could she be compelled to resign to de-
struction the helpless babe, whose feeble
cry sounded in her ear, as imploring her
protection.*

* la the interesting account of the negotiations carried
on by Colonel Walker, for effecting the abolition of this
horrid practice, the motives of the parents are very
clearly exhibited. After a long resistance, the Jarejah
chief, expressing his confidence that Colonel Walker
did not mean to dishonour him by the proposal, hints
at the possibility of a compromise ; and though, as the
Jarejahs had from ancient times killed their daughters,
he did not think himself justified in breaking through
the long established custom, bints, that if a certain
fortress were to be put into his hands, as the price of
the concession, he would, on that consideration, be will-
ing to preserve his female offspring. His mother, how-
ever, was more tenacious of the honour of the Jarejah
race : She stoutly contended for the ancient privileges
of the cast, concluding by this unanswerable argument,
viz. The Jarejahs have never reared their daughters,
nor can it now fa the case. See MOOR'S Hindoo In-
fanticide.

CHAPTER II. 299

But, no ; a propensity stronger than in-
stinct, more powerful than maternal love,
steels her heart, and guides her impious
hand to destroy the innocent being to
which she has just given birth. Identify-
ing herself with the powerful tribe of
which she has by marriage become a mem-
ber, the peculiar customs of that tribe are
objects in which she glories, as constituting
a part of its glory. Considering it for the
honour of the Jarejah, to continue a prac-
tice which has for so many ages prevailed
among them, she deems her honour con-
cerned in continuing it. When she adds
one to the millions of sacrifices that have
thus been made, she connects the idea of
self with all those millions ; and by thus
connecting it, expands that idea, and dwells
with complacency on the means of its ex-
tension. Hence the indifference with
which she views the horrid deed of mur-
der, even the murder of her own offspring !
Hence the difficulty of persuading the Jare-
jah race to relinquish the horrid practice

300 ESSAY IV.

of infanticide ! — a difficulty which would
have been pronounced insuperable by any
person of less heroic firmness, or less deter-
mined perseverance, than distinguished the
gentleman, who, to his everlasting honour,
at length succeeded in accomplishing the
abolition of a practice so disgraceful to hu-
manity. It is not possible to contemplate
the insensibility of the Hindoo mothers,
without an emotion of horror and detesta-
tion. But in the gratification of the pro-
pensity which has rendered her heart thus
callous, she enjoys the only species of
happiness, that, educated as she is educa-
ted, and circumstanced as she is circum-
stanced, it is possible for her to taste,
Her affections and her understanding being
alike uncultivated, it is only by the propen-
sities which spring spontaneously that she
is capable of being influenced. Where-
ever polygamy prevails, it is by the selfish
principle alone that the conjugal bond is
cemented, as it is in that principle also that
polygamy originates.

CHAPTER II. 301

It has been already remarked, that
in the earlier stages of society, while it
is in physical strength that man depends
for obtaining superiority, he is impelled,
by the governing propensity of his na-
ture, to give the appearance of extend-
ed dimension to his person. The next
step in the progress is to enlarge the idea
of self, by multiplying into it all the
human beings whom he has brought into
complete subjection to his authority, or
who are in any wise subject to his con-
troul. The female sex, from its inferiority
in regard to physical strength, is in such
circumstances invariably enslaved. The
grati6cation which polygamy affords to the
selfish principle is obvious. To be the
husband of so many wives, is to be in idea
multiplied according to the individuals of
whom he is the husband : The persons, the
wills, nay, the very thoughts of the multi-
tudes whom he thus appropriates, are con-
sidered by him as part of self; nor is there

ESSAY IV.

•

any part of his property secured or guard-
ed with equal vigilance.

In the region of the east, even to the
present day, an extensive haram is deemed
an essential insignia of rank, and the utter
seclusion of its inhabitants from every eye
insisted on, not as matter of prudence, but
as a point of honour.

How miserable would be the lot of the
innumerable beings thus immured, and
doomed to the horrors of perpetual impri-
sonment, were it not for the operation of
the same propensity to which they owe,
what we consider, the wretchedness of
their condition ! But of that condition
they are so far from complaining, that they
consider it a subject of glory. It is a
certain mark of the greatness, the riches,
and the power of him with whom they
connect the idea of self; and thus affords
to their minds a species of gratification,

CHAPTER II. 303

for which they would deem all the delights
of liberty an incompetent recompense.

Perhaps we might, on a close survey,
find reason to conclude, that even in Chris-
tian and civilized nations, the propensity to
enlarge the idea of self has had a similar
operation. The same propensity which
incited the barbarian to resolve into his
will the wills, and to connect with his life
the lives of all his bosom slaves, may be
observed to have operated in the spirit of
almost all our ancient laws, as far as they
concern the sex. From these it is evident,
that women have, by the legislators of
Europe, been generally contemplated, as
having no other existence than that which
they derived from being identified with
their husbands, fathers, brothers, or kins-
men : In some instances deprived of the
rights of inheritance ; in others, permitted
to enjoy it, but under circumstances no less
humiliating, than the most abject servitude.

For ages an heiress was considered in no
2

304 ESSAY IV,

other light than as a sort of promissory note,
stain pt with the value of certain lands, tene-
ments, and hereditaments, and disposable
at the will of the sovereign, to whomsoever
he thought worthy of the prize. The mar-
riage ceremony put the husband in com-
plete possession of all those goods of which
the heiress had only been the representa-
tive, and annihilated her legal existence,
which at that moment merged in his. The
sentiments and associations to which such
laws and usages gave strength and perma-
nence, may perhaps be found, in some in-
stances, still to retain an influence, afford-
ing to either sex a gratification of the self-
ish principle, alike inimical to the interests
of both. Hence arises that jealousy with
which men may be sometimes observed to
regard the advancement of the other sex
in knowledge, which they have considered
as their own appropriate privilege, and
with which they have been accustomed to
connect the idea of self. And when, from
the universal diffusion of light, it becomes

CHAPTER II. 305

impossible to retain the female mind in
utter darkness, hence proceeds the eager-
ness to set bounds to the cultivation of its
faculties, by prescribing to it certain limits
which it must on no account exceed. —
When such sentiments prevail, women,
readily adopting the notions of those with
whom they wish to appear identified, con-
tinue to glory in ignorance, and devote
their attention, not to the improvement of
their minds, but to objects whose perni-
cious influence on the imagination has, in
the preceding Essay? been fully described,

VOL. i.

306' ESSAY IV.

) Ji oj £

ixiMTJ-iB oa ao jium j;
CHAPTER III.

> . 'iT'j liJ'iaq^ ot c "

Propensity to enlarge the idea of self, how gratified

in humble life. Examples of its operation in the
meanest circumstances. Family pride examined.
Examples. Influence of the desire of magnifying
the idea of self, in carrying our views into futurity.
Posthumous honours. Posthumous deeds. Love of
fame, fyc.

IF, in the mind of the rich man, the idea
of self is expanded by connecting it with
all the personal and mental qualities of the
human beings subject to his controul, or
whose labour he can purchase, we shall
find, that those who labour for him, or at-
tend his person, or supply his wants, fail
not to identify themselves with him. His
greatness becomes their greatness : Their

CHAPTER III. 307

personal consequence keeps pace with his.
In the menial tribe, the less they have to
do, the more is the price at which they
purchase this enlargement of the idea of
self> kept out of sight. If completely idle,
the price is almost forgotten ; and, conse-
quently, the more useless they are, the
more does the selfish principle triumph.
This is a great source of evil in the servile
state, and one that does not attach to any of
the modes of industry. The tradesman or
artificer, if proud of his success, is proud of
something to which he has himself contri-
buted. He extends the idea of self to his
inventions and his labours, and glories in
his skill and industry, independently of the
pecuniary advantages derived from them.
But if his employment ministers to the
luxuries, not the necessities of life, his
customers will be chiefly of a certain rank ;
and on their rank we shall find him valuing
himself so evidently, as to afford a convinc-
ing proof, that he connects the idea of self
with all the princes or nobles who happen

308 ESSAY IV.

to employ him. This species of vanity is
extremely amusing, from the contrast be-
tween the actual situation of the person
and the opinion he entertains of his own
importance; and has afforded some fine
strokes of satire to the most eminent of our
dramatic poets. It is, however, upon the
whole, consolatory to observe, that the
same propensity which produces so many
of the crimes and miseries of human life,
affords a support to the spirits under every
variety of adverse fortune. Were, indeed,
the opinion which we cherish of our own
importance to be governed by sympathy
with the opinion of others, misery and
despair would be the portion of the greater
part of mankind.

Except in those rare instances where the
mind has been so much elevated by the
sentiments of pure religion, as to regard
with indifference all that interferes not
with the favour of God, life would become
utterly insupportable to the poor and the

CHAPTER III. 309

*

despised. But even where religion has
failed to produce this degree of fortitude,
we find that, in situations the most wretch-
ed, life is not only clung to from an abhor-
rence of death, but from a sense of enjoy-
ment. In many instances this can only be
accounted for, by a consideration of the
activity of that principle whose operations
I have been endeavouring to describe.

There are few situations so abject as not
to afford a something wherewith to con-
nect the idea of self, and to expand that
idea : Few who have passed through life,
without having been noticed or employed
by their superiors : Few who have not, at
some period, found themselves necessary or
useful to others ; or who have not had
sufficient power of doing injury to make
themselves feared ; or who have not had
some bond of connexion with persons pos-
sessed of that power. Even when these
circumstances no longer exist, the recol-
lection of them will suffice to give such a

310 ESSAY IV.

degree of self-consequence as illumes the
dark abode of misery. It is happy for
society where pains has been taken to at-
tach this idea of self to character; but, in
some respects, happy for the individual,
that it can be attached to circumstances
with which he is so slightly connected,
that the connexion escapes all observation
but his own.

What great struggles have we seen made
by poor women, sinking under the burden
of age, sickness, and poverty, in order to
preserve the wretched remnants of furni-
ture which still enabled them to have a
place to creep into which they could call
their own ! The idea of independence they
could not cherish, for without assistance
they must have perished ; but with the idea
of these little articles of property the idea
of self is so strongly associated, that rather
than part with them in order to be received
into their parish work-house, they would
submit to deprivations, of which none but

CHAPTER III. .31.1

those who are intimately acquainted with
the situation of the poor in great cities can
form any adequate notion.*

We can scarcely forbear smiling, when
we observe the slight foundations on which
vanity, in such instances, erects its fabric,
in the midst of poverty and contempt ; but
let us examine the foundation on which it
builds, in circumstances which we are apt
to deem more favourable, and I fear we
shall find that they are sometimes equally
unsolid.

* It is to be regretted, that these feelings of the poor,
though originating in a principle of our common nature,
have so seldom entered into the calculations of those who
prescribe laws for compelling the public to relieve their
wants. The Edinburgh House of Industry is, as far as
I know, the only asylum where such aid is given to the
poor and industrious of a certain class, as enables them
to retain to themselves the comfort of a home, to which
they attach ideas of respectability, not easy to be conceiv-
ed by those who have not turned their attention to such
subjects. The continuance of this Institution is however
precarious, as it rests solely on voluntary subscription.

312 ESSAY IV.

According to the law of nature, our
term of mortal life is bounded to a span.
At our entrance into the world, feeble and
helpless, unconscious of all but the objects
by which we are immediately surrounded,
we know not whence we spring ; and
when, debilitated by age, we are compelled
to leave it, we should, were it not for the
light of revelation, leave it profoundly ig-
norant with regard to the future, as on
our entrance we were ignorant of the past.
Yet, even under these circumstances, our
desire of extending the idea of self finds
means to operate, in extending the notion
of our existence, by connecting it in ima-
gination with past and future events.

Has not that poor shivering wretch who
sweeps the pavement in the streets had as
many ancestors as the proud peer, who
boasts his pedigree as if, of all mankind,
he alone had a father ? Observe the com-
placency with which he pronounces the
names of the ancient barbarians, who, ha\s

CHAPTER III. 313

ing assisted in driving out by rapine and
bloodshed the former inhabitants, took pos-
session of the very lands he now inherits !
.Can we doubt, that by connecting the idea
of self with each in the long succession of
savage and civilized progenitors, he in idea
lengthens the period of his own existence,
and actually persuades himself that he be-
gan to live when his remote ancestor first
obtained a name ? Even though the mem-
bers of his ancient house should only have
been remarkable for vice, or folly, their
follies and their vices form no impediment
to the operation of the selfish principle.
They rather facilitate its operations ; for by
carrying the mind back to a period remote
from the present, they enable it to extend
the idea of self to that period with greater
certainty.

And here we may remark, that though
we so far identify ourselves with our ances-
tors, as to glory in all the glory they achiev-
ed, and all the grandeur they enjoyed, as

314 ESSAY IV.

if it were truly our own, we do not in the
same way identify ourselves with their
follies, or their crimes, but, on the con-
trary, think it great injustice to have these
imputed to us as disgrace. We can on
such occasions think and talk most ration-
ally concerning our individual character,
as the only thing by which we ought to
be judged or appreciated : For here the
selfish principle does not interfere to per-
vert our reasonings or blind our judgment,
as it does when the circumstances of those
with whom we are connected are such as
to gratify the passions which spring from
that principle.

Among persons most remarkable for
family pride, we -shall find many who can
only boast of illustrious descent on one
side of the house ; and in such instances
may observe, that it signifies little whether
it be from father or mother that they de-
rive the claim. If it be from the pater-
nal side, the relations by the mother are

CHAPTER III. 315

scarcely reckoned in. the least a-kin: Nay,
if the passion greatly predominates, it is a
thousand to one that the mother herself
does not escape the contempt of her high-
born children ; who, while they identify
themselves with every relation of their
father to the twentieth cousin, consider
their maternal aunts and cousins as persons
with whom they have no natural connexion.
But if it be by the blood of the mother
that their self-consequence is to be aug-
mented, how infinitely is the connexion
between mother and child increased ! It is
to her relations exclusively that they then
belong ; to her forefathers that they are
exclusively indebted for their existence ;
and, while they extend the idea of self to
the most remote of their maternal ancestors,
consider not that their father's father had
a being ! He is to them a mere nonentity ;
for with him vanity permits not the idea
of self to be connected. And so readily do
we sympathize in this feeling, that we
should no more think of mentioning, in the

316 ESSAY IV.

presence of a person of fashion, the name
of an honest tradesman from whom he hap-
pened to be descended, than we should
think of insulting him by the mention of
any personal defects.

In countries which nature has rendered
sterile or inaccessible, the revolutions of
property are so rare, that estates continue
in possession of the same families for ma-
ny generations ; a circumstance extremely
favourable to the operation of the selfish
principle. It presents to every remote
descendant of the family a palpable object,
with which the idea of self can be con-
nected through a period extending beyond
calculation; and produces a proportional
(degree of self-consequence in the bosom
of every distant cousin, however sunk in.
poverty or ignorance.

But it is not only by looking to the
past that we seek to extend, in idea, our
span of existence ; we are, by the same

CHAPTER III. 317

propensity, led to connect the idea of self
with events that are to take place on the
stage of life, after we have made our
eternal exit. Mistaken notions concern-
ing the motives by which we are on such
occasions actuated, are, I believe, not unfre-
quently entertained : They are generally
denominated wholesome prejudices. But as
neither true religion, nor sound philosophy,
acknowledge any prejudice as wholesome,
we may proceed to examine them without
incurring the imputation of presumption.

The funeral rites of every nation afford
convincing evidence,

" That none to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
This pleasing anxious being ere resign'd :" —

Those who passed through life unnoticed
and unknown, not unfrequently evincing
such anxiety concerning the honours to
be paid to their remains in the funeral ob-
sequies, as plainly denotes how much the

318 ESSAY IVi:9

idea of self predominates ; but how far it
extends, the monumental pyramid, formed
in the vain hope of bidding defiance to the
power of time, and the simple memorial
of painted wood, or rudely graven head-
stone, erected in the country church-yard,
alike bear witness. In either instance,
when erected by the party whose name
they were destined to perpetuate, they
were means by which the idea of self was
extended, in his mind, to a period beyond
the bounds of life ; and it is plain, that in
that imaginary extension the notion of self
was enlarged. The same motive is perhaps
still more obviously displayed, when monu-
ments to the dead are erected by the vanity
of the living, — not to record the virtues
that really shone forth in the character of
the deceased, as models for imitation ; but
to proclaim, that the dust on which we
tread was once decorated with insignias of
wealth, or power, or glory ; and that with
the ideas of such glory, power, or wealth,
such and such persons are by right entitled

CHAPTER III. 319

to connect the idea of self. It is to gratify
this propensity that custom has introduced
the ostentatious display of splendour, at a
period when the contrast between the actual
state of the loathsome object, thus vainly de-
corated, and the magnificence of the trap-
pings that adorn it, is particularly striking.
Yet, from sympathy with the feelings and
propensities which we believe to have exist-
ed in the mind of the deceased, and to exist
in the survivors, we acquiesce in the propri-
ety of substituting the display of wealth for
the display of sorrow ; and, while the show
is before our eyes, are -impressed by invo-
luntary respect for the object of it. The
impression is however only momentary ; for
if totally unconnected with the deceased,
as there is no room for the operation of the
selfish principle, our respect for his memory
will never exceed what is due to his con-
duct and character. And, alas ! even the
memorials of these, how quickly do they
perish ! Is it not true, that we should in
general be exceedingly mortified, to be con-

320

vinced that we were as soon to be forgot-
ten, as we are conscious of forgetting the
friends and acquaintances who have gone
before u$ r

To those who consider the termination
of a life of trial here, as the commence-
ment of a life of glory in another and a
better world, we should, at first view, ima-
gine it to be most natural to carry the idea
of self into that superior state ; and that,
instead of endeavouring to prolong the
idea of existence here, their minds should
be absorbed in the contemplation of that
state to which they with assured faith
look forward. But, alas ! even in the
minds of the faithful, the selfish principle
(the root or source of all those temptations
which render this life a life of trial and
probation) continues to exert its influence,
until all connexion with the world be
broken.

CHAPTER III. 321

Hence, though perhaps unconscious of
the principle from which it springs, those
who entertain the strongest and bestground-
ed hopes of eternal happiness, evince the
same propensity to cling to the terrestrial
objects that afford means of extending the
idea of self, as those do who utterly dis-
claim the hopes of salvation. We never
think of calling a man's religious belief in
question, because of his having settled his
estate by entail on his posterity. Yet, in
doing so, he is evidently impelled by a
desire of prolonging in idea his terrestrial
existence, and procuring an enlargement
of the idea of self, by an act which en-
ables him to restrict and govern the wills
of his successors, through an indefinite
number of generations.

All the successive inheritors of his pro-
perty he considers as beings dependant on
his will. ^He identifies himself with them
to the latest age, and glories in the idea of

VOL. i. x

ESSAY IV.

thus exercising power and authority over
thousands that are yet unborn.

The absurd use that is sometimes made
of the right of disposing of property by
testamentary deeds, affords a still more
striking proof of the activity of the selfish
principle. Wills, seemingly dictated by
the most strange and unaccountable caprice,
are only ill-directed efforts to prolong an
ideal existence, by continuing to excite
that surprise and admiration, by which, in
the mind of the vain man, the idea of self
is habitually enlarged.

In the sordid and avaricious the same
principle has a different operation. It is
with the wealth in his possession that his
ideas of self have been exclusively associ-
ated ; and as he cannot dispose of that
wealth without in some measure breaking
the association, he shrinks from \jie odious
task; and, rather than contemplate for a
moment an idea which is to him equivalent

CHAPTER III. 323

to that of annihilation, he dies without
leaving a token of aifection to any human
being.

This naturally leads to considerations
that are in their nature serious and impor-
tant, and on which I should not presume
to enter, but from a deep conviction of the
futility and impropriety, and even danger,
of resting our hopes of immortality on any
other grounds than those that are pointed
out in the gospel. It is there alone that
our faith and hope finds anchorage " sure
and steadfast;" and he that believes in the
divine mission, and death, and resurrection
of the Saviour of the world, need be little
solicitous concerning the fate of those ar-
guments for the soul's immortality, which
have been elicited from a consideration of
the nature of the human mind.

The propensity to extend our views into
futurity, and thus to prolong, in idea, our
existence, though it has, by many learned

324 ESSAY IV.

and pious men, been mentioned as a colla-
teral evidence in proof of a future state, af-
fords such slender support to that glorious
doctrine, that its services may safely be dis-
pensed with. " Life and immortality have
been brought to light by the gospel ;" and
those who will not believe God's word, are
little likely to be convinced of an hereafter
by assertions less authoritative.

I shall, therefore, not scruple to make
the inference, to which, 'on comparing the
different operations of the propensity in
question, we are naturally led, viz. that
it is one and the same principle which
impels us to seek for means of extend-
ing the idea of self, by connecting that
idea with persons and events that pre-
ceded our birth, and which impels us
to connect with the idea of self events
and circumstances that are to take place
after we haye, as to this world, ceased to
be. It does not appear that we have any
more right to infer our future existence

CHAPTER III. 325

from the operation of this propensity in
the latter instance, than to infer our pre-
existence from its operation in the former.
In either instance we perceive only the
effects of an effort to enlarge the idea of
self, by stretching it beyond the natural
span of life. But in neither instance does
our obedience to this impulse afford more
convincing proof of extended existence,
than the propensity to enlarge the idea of
our own dimensions affords proof, that we
were by nature intended to grow to such
a size as should require the strength of
six horses to draw the load.*

Whether the love of fame has been pro-
ductive of a greater share of good or evil

* On examining the arguments for immortality which
are to be found in the writings of the most celebrated
heathen philosophers, I apprehend we should find them,
in general, founded on those operations of the selfish,
principle in which vanity is a prime auxiliary. They
were not for vulgar use ; and perhaps were, and are,
recommended by this very circumstance ; for where the

326 ESSAY IV.

to society, it may perhaps be difficult to
determine. But whatever be the nature
of its effects, we perceive, in all its opera-
tions, evident marks of that propensity to
enlarge the idea of self, which forms a pro-
minent feature of human character.

Renown is placed on high as the reward
of heroes ; and happily for kings and con-
querors that it is so highly valued, as to be

sought for

" Ev'n in the cannon's mouth.''

Under the influence of the same propen-
sity, men are often led to the performance
of great, and sometimes to the performance

propensity to enlarge the idea of self, by connecting it
with objects and circumstances that serve as marks of
superiority, conferring distinction in the erring eyes of
the admiring multitude, has become a primary passion,
it must require a wonderful change of heart to accept,
in good earnest, the doctrines of the gospel. Elysium
is the abode of heroes, and consequently a much genteeler
place than heaven, which is the abode of saints.

CHAPTER III. 327

of noble and useful actions, in whose minds
neither the principles of duty, nor the feel-
ings of benevolence, had sufficient strength
to afford a motive to exertion. In this
manner, by the over-ruling dispensations
of Providence, evil is rendered productive
of good ; but the nature of evil is not there-
by changed. The good that is done from
the motive of obtaining glory to one's self,
may be as beneficial to the objects of it as
if it had proceeded from purer motives.
The persons benefited will connect the idea
of the actor with the action ; and this asso-
ciation will continue as long as the action
is held in remembrance. The honour
which crowns the name of the benefactor,
will ensure to it what, in the language of
the world, is called immortality ; that is to
say, it will, for a certain number of years,
perhaps only of months, or weeks, or days,
be remembered, that the person who per-
formed such or such an action, was called
by such a name. This is all the impression
that it makes on the minds of others. But

ESSAY IV.

in the mind of him who expects his name
to be thus honoured, the honour is identi-
fied with the notions of his own existence.
While the action continues to be mention-
ed, he, in idea, continues to live. In what-
ever region it is known, thither does the
idea of self extend.

I have thought proper to illustrate the
operation of the selfish principle, by exem-
plifying it in actions which, had they pro-
ceeded from proper motives, would have
been really praise-worthy ; because, by the
splendour of such actions, the individual
who performs them is liable to be so much
dazzled, as to be blind to the principle from
which they proceed. Through whatever
channel we seek for fame, whether by the
exertion of our intellectual faculties, the
cultivation of our natural endowments, or
by seeking opportunities to exhibit proofs
of strength, valour, skill, or policy, in so
far as we are actuated by the desire of fame,
we are actuated by the propensity to en-

CHAPTER III. 329

large and extend the idea of self. Nor is
the nature of the propensity altered by the
complexion of the action ; for if the action
be truly laudable and truly virtuous, and
prove in its consequences beneficial to man-
kind, and if these considerations had any
weight in impelling us to the undertaking,
— it follows, that the desire of fame was
not the only motive, nor perhaps the pre-
dominant one. By mingling with others
of a purer nature, its own nature is not al-
tered, though its pernicious tendency must
doubtless be thereby counteracted and dir
minished; like certain gases, which, when
inhaled in a pure state, prove fatal to life,
but which, when mingled with ethereal
fluids of another description, become not
only harmless but salutary.

It is from believing that the love of
fame is the passion only of great minds,
that it excites so much sympathy and ad-
miration ; but where it both originates in,
and is governed by the selfish principle, it

330 ESSAY IV.

appears not to have any greater right to
esteem or approbation, than vanity, or
avarice, or any other modification of the
same principle, .urt

1 *

" Who, smiling, sees not with what various, strife
Man blindly runs the giddy span of life ?
To the same end still different means employs,
This builds a church, a temple that destroys ;
Both anxious to secure a deathless name,
Yet erring both, mistake report for fame."*

The propensity to enlarge the idea of self
seeks its gratification in the mind of the
avaricious miser, by increasing hoards pf
treasure of which he is never to make far-
ther use. But while, with every farthing,
every shilling, and every guinea in the
buried heap, he can connect the idea of self,
the treasure is to him not useless. By
every minute addition to his wealth the

* Will it be deemed impertinent to express a suspicion,
that the poet has, in the last of these lines, made a dis-
tinction without a difference ?

CHAPTER III. 331

idea of self is expanded; and, with con-
scious satisfaction, he thinks of lands which
his wealth has purchased, though they are
never to meet his view, and of stores of
grain heaped in his garners, though destined
there to rot until unfit for the use of man
or beast. As he cannot part with that
with which he has identified himself, with-
out experiencing the pang of separation,
he, rather than part with it, foregoes pe-
cuniary advantage, and thus is frequently
observed to act with seeming inconsistency.
But in fact the miser is consistent through-
out, and obeys in every instance the impulse
of the propensity by which he is completely
governed.

v j«. 1 ' ••-..*• ).-.,; ~

Of all the operations of the selfish prin-
ciple, that of hoarding may be accounted
the most independent; but it is likewise
the most dissocial, and, on that account,
meets not the same indulgence, nor excite*
the same sympathy, as the love of fame.

332 ESSAY IV.

CHAPTER IV.

(Operation of the propensity to magnify the idea of self
productive of the malevolent affections. Examples
of its tendency to produce envy, uncharitableness,
detraction, fyc.

BEFORE we proceed to the remarks
which it is proposed to make on ambition,
party-spirit, bigotry, &c. I shall beg leave
to point out a few of the many facts that
may be adduced in evidence to prove, that,
in whatever mode the selfish principle ope-
rates, the production of one or other of the
malevolent passions is the consequence of
its indulgence. The subject is of great
importance to ingenuous minds, bent on the
acquirement of self-knowledge, and, if duly
considered, may, by rendering the boun-
daries of vice and virtue more obvious,

CHAPTER IV. 333

der an essential service to those who resolve
to " keep the heart with all diligence."
Even by such minds vanity is often deemed
a harmless and inoffensive passion ; but on
examining its operations we shall be con-
vinced, that whatever be the nature of the
objects which, in order to enlarge the idea
of self, we connect with that idea, we feel
every attempt to break this connexion as
an injury ; and a certain feeling of resent-
ment consequently rises in our hearts. This
feeling will be more or less malignant, ac-
companied by a greater or lesser degree of
hatred and revenge, according to the de-
gree in which it is counteracted or con-
trolled by acquired sentiments and prin-
ciples.

In a former section I have endeavoured
to show in what manner a vain woman
enlarges the idea of self, by connecting it
with objects that are, in her mind, most
wrorthy of admiration. It is according to
the degree in which she inspires admira-

ESSAY IV.

tion, that her soul expands. She is eleva-
ted or depressed, in exact proportion as
she thinks herself admired or otherwise :
But as we are extremely prone to give to
the dreams of imagination a sort of ideal
existence, she seldom fails to think that
she is actually admired, and speaks and
acts according to this belief. Flattery,
administered in sufficient quantity to con-
firm this belief, renders her the happiest of
the happy. Her mind is then in a state of
complacency : Her spirits, elevated beyond
the usual tone, give the charm of vivacity
to all she utters ; and those who listen with
delight to her conversation, begin indeed
to think her the angel that she thinks her-
self. This, however, only happens when
the claims of vanity are supported by beau-
ty ; for beauty being naturally the object
of admiration, and youth (the season of its
reign) the object of tenderness, we readily
sympathize in the self-complacency which
it inspires in the breast of the possessor, so

CHAPTER IV. 335

that the flattering homage paid to beauty
is usually sincere/

But whether it be personal or adventi-
tious advantages in which she who thirsts
for admiration has placed her glory, let a
rival appear to share that glory, and then,
according to the degree in which the idea
of self has been expanded, will she feel
envy and resentment against her by whom
she has been robbed of a portion of that
admiration which had essentially contri-
buted to its expansion. Where now the
smile of complacency ? Where

' •; tiT •: ".' -*-*'>^ -."J " H *t '<"*•:'•'•?•

" The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy?"

The smile of complacency may indeed
return, to illumine her bright eyes, and
dimple her fair cheeks; — but it is only
brought back by some happy discovery of
defects in her hated rival. In proclaiming
these she feels a triumph ; for thus the
idea of self is again permitted to expand :

ESSAY IV.

But where happiness is built on such foun-
dation, never will the sunshine of content-
ment beam Jong upon the heart.

The same observations will be found to
apply with equal force to every species of
vanity, where that passion has been ren-
dered subservient to the gratification of
the selfish principle. On whatever circum-
stance the claim to admiration is founded,
as there will still be others who rest their
pretensions on a similar basis, and who seek
to enlarge the idea of self, by connecting
it with the same objects, the triumph of
vanity must be generally transient, and
subject to perpetual fluctuations.

As the vain man ardently desires to have
the high opinion which he forms of him-
self ratified and confirmed by the opinion
of those around him, he bends his unwea-
ried efforts to render himself the prime
and only object of their praise and admi-
ration. By the praise bestowed on others,

CHAPTER IV. 337

he consequently feels his aim to be frus-
trated, and experiences from this idea the
pain of mortification. The dispraise or
censure of others affords him, on the other
hand, unspeakable relief; at once gratify-
ing his notions of comparative superiority,
and conveying the pleasing assurance, that
the mind of the detractor is in a state of
sympathy with his own.

When the selfish principle operates
through the medium of vanity, it is almost
impossible that the apostle's injunction to
" love the things that are excellent," can
be followed : For under the influence of
that principle, no excellence of any kind
is the object of love or admiration, with
which the idea of self cannot in some
way be connected. Hence the vain man
is naturally more inclined to hate than
to love persons whose approved excellence
obtains the meed of praise. This operation
of the selfish principle, when it becomes
very conspicuous, is denominated envy.

VOL. i. Y

338 ESSAY IV.

When thus conspicuous, it is universally
acknowledged to be hateful : But I am
afraid its secret workings, though not less
hateful, meet witli no unfavourable recep-
tion from the generality of mankind. It
is only where the selfish principle has been
entirely subdued, that the heart is willing
to do justice to every species of merit;
for till then, the sense of inferiority which
comes from the contemplation of qualities
and attainments superior to our own, is in-
evitably painful.

Hence the universal reluctance to ac-
knowledge the superior worth or talents
of our contemporaries : Hence the avidity
with which every tale of slander is swal-
lowed : Hence the eagerness with which
we seize on every opportunity of pursuing
eminent characters into the recesses of re-
tirement, in hopes of rinding in the history
of their unguarded moments, somewhat
that may bring them down to a level with
ourselves.

CHAPTER IV.

Admirably has this been illustrated by
Shakspeare in the character of Cassius,
whose hatred to Caesar originated not in
any feelings of patriotism, but was solely
the offspring of envy. In disburdening
his heart to Brutus, he does not dwell on
those circumstances which afforded a just
cause of indignation against the tyrant
who had triumphed over the liberties of
his country, but on those which reduced
him to an equality with himself.

" I was born free as Caesar, so were you ;
We both bave fed as well, and we can both
Endure the winter's cold as well as he.
He had a fever when he was in Spain,
And, when the fit was on him, 1 did mark
How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake ;
His coward lips did from their colour fly,
And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world,
Did lose its lustre. I did bear him groan ;
Aye, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books,
Alas ! it cried, " Give me some drink, Titinius,"
Like a sick girl. Ye gods! It doth amaze me,

340 ESSAY IV.

A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone ! "

It is impossible to display the effects
of envy in more lively colours. How
completely must it have blinded the judg-
ment of the man who could lay hold on,
such circumstances as aggravating Caesar's
guilt, or as detracting from his heroism !
Yet from our own observation on what
passes in society, we may be fully con-
vinced, that under the influence of envy
the conduct of individuals is, in every in-
stance, nearly similar; and that, in speak-
ing of the person whose praise has become
hateful, food for detraction is found in cir-
cumstances which have no connexion with
the qualities that have excited the admira-
tion, on account of which he is to the de-
tractor odious. Thus, the personal defects
of persons of distinguished talents are men-
tioned with contempt; as if having a long
nose, or a crooked leg, or an aukward

CHAPTER IV. 34)1

figure, did, in reality, lessen the value of
the mental qualities, which it is neverthe-
less the object of the detractor to depre-
ciate. But, in pointing out these detects,
the detractor directs your attention to cir-
cumstances in which he feels himself supe-
rior to him whose talents have obtained
applause. The idea of self expands on the
comparison ; and thus he obtains amends
for that temporary diminution ot it, which,
in listening to the praises of an equal and
contemporary, he had painfully experienced.

There is no species of excellence, how-
ever unobtrusive, that does not seem to
give offence to those, who, being incapable
of making efforts to identify them selves
with what is great or splendid, and thus
procuring an enlargement of the idea of self,
are, while under the dominion of that prin-
ciple, necessarily compelled to hate the me-
rit which obtains the approbation to which
they do not even aspire to make pretension.
Those who are eminent for piety, for cha-

342 ESSAY IV.

rity, for zeal in the cause of virtue, are
consequently all exposed to detraction ;
and as it is impossible, in some instances,
to detract from the merit of their actions,
their actions are by the detractor kept out
of sight, while he bends his endeavours to
bring forward to your view the personal
defects or accidental circumstances, to
which he hopes you will attach ideas of
contempt. Why should the idea of excel-
lence be painful to him, but because he
cannot contemplate the impression it makes
on you, and compare it with that made by
his own character, without feeling the idea
of self repressed and diminished ! Hence
his anxiety to lessen your opinion of the
merit you admire and approve.

When with the object of admiration the
idea of self can be by any means connected,
what a different line of conduct is imme-
diately pursued ! As the patron of genius,
the vain man, taking to himself the merit
of all the genius that he condescends to

CHAPTER IV. 243

honour with his patronage, connects the
idea of self with all the admiration it re-
ceives ; and therefore extols without mercy,
and without discrimination, productions
exactly similar to those which, in other
circumstances, he would without discrimi-
nation and without mercy have condemn-
ed. Hence the extreme inconsistency so
frequently to be remarked in the judg-
ment of professed critics ; an inconsistency
that may, doubtless, be in some instances
with propriety ascribed to an amiable par-
tiality for whatever proceeds from those to
whom we are attached by the ties of friend-
ship and affection, but often bears indeli-
ble marks of an origin less pure. Affec-
tion may lead us to dwell upon the merits
of a friend's productions, and, by direct-
ing our attention exclusively to its beau-
ties, we shall certainly permit its faults ta
escape our notice. But minds that are
prone to this species of partiality, are habi-
tually influenced by the benevolent affec-
tions ; and therefore, though, when not

344 ESSAY IV.

blinded by love or friendship, they may
evince that they have penetration to disco-
ver, and taste to reject whatever is faulty in
the compositions that fall under their no-
tice, their censure will have no tincture of
spleen or malignity ; nor in such minds will
the vindictive passions be called forth by
opposition to . their opinions, either with
regard to the objects of praise or censure.
Examples of this amiable candour and mo-
deration must be in the recollection of every
reader. But unfortunately, while we are
under the dominion of the selfish principle,
the candour born of benevolence appears to
us contemptible, and is scorned as the off-
spring of cowardice and imbecility. Thus
are we induced to reject the arguments
addressed to the judgment, unless when
they support the opinions that are either
by birth or adoption ours, and with which
we consequently connect the idea of self.
In this, the cultivated and uncultivated,
the profound and the superficial, act alike;
the selfish principle producing effects ex-

CIIAPTER IV. 345

actly similar, let the understanding be of
what description it may.

Let us look into those immense and
mouldy volumes which contain the contro-
versies carried on between men of vast
erudition, and talents, and penetration, on
points where their opinions happened to
differ : How soon shall we discover the de-
gree in which each identified himself with
the opinion for which he combated, and
with all who had embraced it ! How plain-
ly do we behold, in the acrimony of per-
sonal rancour, clear proofs that the con-
troversy was to him a personal concern,
and that, in triumphing over his adversary,
he obtained an extension of the idea of
self!

When it is works of taste and imagina-
tion that have thus become subjects of de-
bate, we generally find the malignity at-
tendant on vanity (when in league with
the selfish principle) rendered still more

346 ESSAY IV.

sharp and poignant ; for in such instances
it is aggravated by a conviction, that in
spite of the censures so liberally bestowed,
the work in question is still admired and
praised by those who find it deserving of
praise and admiration. Hence the viru-
lence of abuse thrown on Pope, and the
other wits and poets of his age ; and had
the great poets of other ages embalmed
the memory of their adversaries, as he has
done in the Dunciad, we should have oppor-
tunities of observing many similar instances
of malignity, produced by that lessening of
the idea of self experienced by the critic,
from the success of those with whose glory
no idea of his own glory was connected.

But even for this malignity, however
reprehensible, we are usually disposed to
make greater allowance than we should
find it possible to make, did we believe
that the endeavour to injure was made
through venal and sordid motives, and that
the critic, in his bitterest invectives, had

CHAPTER IV. 347

no other view but to gratify the spleen of
others. Why do we feel thus differently,
but because we are sensible, that, in the
former instance, the critic may be, and pro-
bably is, unconscious of the motives by
which he has been impelled ; while, in the
latter instance, he must be perfectly con-
scious of them. This offers to our view
an evident distinction between the opera-
tion of the propensity to magnify the idea
of self, and the operation of selfishness.
Our motives, when impelled by the former,
may be so disguised as to be concealed
from our own hearts ; whereas in the latter
we are thoroughly aware of their nature,
and the acts proceeding from them are con-
sequently acts of choice. Before we dis-
miss the subject of literary criticism, it may
be useful to observe, that \vere we, as often
as the vituperations of the critic produce
in us a sensible emotion of pain or plea-
sure, carefully and conscientiously to exa-
mine our own hearts, we should sometimes
find reason to conclude, that his severity

348 ESSAY IV.

was agreeable to us, or otherwise, not as
it accorded with justice, but as it affected
persons or opinions with which we con-
nected the idea of self.

As books are the chief, and in some cases
the only medium, through which we derive
the knowledge that enlightens the under-
standing, and the sentiments that rectify
and improve the heart, it is of great im-
portance that we should be guided in our
choice of books by clear and acknowledg-
ed principles. By blindly adopting the
prejudices of those who loudly applaud, or
vehemently condemn, without producing
reasonable grounds of applause or condem-
nation, we do injustice to our own minds
and hearts. When we pin our faith on
the judgment of any nlan, or set of men,
their opinions become in reality ours ; they
form a part of self, and as such we defend
them against all by whom they are attack-
ed or called in question. But it is not only
the opinions we adopt from others that we

CHAPTER IV. 349

thus defend : the opinions which we have
even by chance, or in sportiveness, deliver-
ed, are no sooner opposed or controverted,
than we identify them with ourselves, and
resent the attack made on them as made on
our property.

In conversational circles the truth of
these observations may be frequently found
exemplified. Let us listen to the opinions
delivered on works of taste and imagina-
tion; we shall not only find, that the vain
man has erected his own taste, his own
fancy, his own feelings, into an infallible
standard, but that he resents the rejection
of this standard as an injury. In propor-
tion as others applaud what he has been
pleased to condemn, his condemnation be-
comes more severe, and pointed, and ex-
tensive ; till it at length degenerates to
undisguised malignity. The censure of
what he approves produces similar effects;
his approbation rising in its tone, in order
to justify the accusation he brings against

350

his opponent, of want of taste, and per-
verse and wilful blindness.

Those who are incapable of such an ex-
ercise of judgment as is requisite towards
even a tolerable degree of accuracy, and
who have neither sense to comprehend, nor
taste to discriminate the merits or defects
of any species of literary composition, may
be sometimes observed to decide most pre-
sumptuously on the merits or dements of
new publications. Their decisions, it is
true, are always pronounced in general
terms, but the tone and spirit will common-
ly be found to correspond with that, which,
in the society in which they move, and in
which it is their ambition to shine, happens
to be most prevalent. It is with the leaders
of the circle, with those who are most dis-
tinguished, that they wish to be identified,
and it is their tone and spirit that they
consequently adopt. When that happens
to be sarcastic and severe, the idea of self
expands by every sneer and sarcasm to

CHAPTER IV. 351

\vhich they give utterance. When, on the
contrary, an excess of refinement has ren-
dered severity, even when called forth by
moral indignation, odious, and made praise
the order of the day, it is by rapturous ex-
pressions of admiration, that the propensity
to enlarge the idea of self seeks its gratifica-
tion. It is not more gratified in the for-
mer instance, by giving proofs of extreme
fastidiousness in the liberal use of the terms
heavy, dull, tedious, stupid, vulgar, low,
&c. than it is in the latter, by the indiscri-
minate application of the epithets, sweet,
charming, elegant, beautiful, and interest-
ing !

That it is not merely from sympathy
with the sentiments of those with whom
we converse, and whom we admire or
approve, that we are led thus to adopt their
tone and manner, is rendered apparent
from the degree of consequence we assume,
in giving this evidence of our identification
with such persons. Whether the tone we

352 ESSAY IV.

adopt be that of censure or panegyric,
we are equally bent on exalting ourselves
by adopting it ; and by giving proof of our
identity with those who are admired, or
feared, or celebrated, expect to share in
the admiration or homage they receive*

As we cannot be too anxiously on our
guard against the operations of a principle
so active and insiduous, it may be proper
to take a slight view of the circumstances
which prevent even the vain from taking
alarm at the voice of praise.

We admit those who have been admired
in former ages to have been worthy of all
the admiration they received, for our know-
ledge of the deeds they have performed,
or of the talents they have displayed in
their works, of whatever kind, is an acquire-
ment in which we glory. That knowledge
is a part of self, and serves to exalt us, in
imagination, above those who are destitute
of the same species of knowledge. Homer

CHAPTER IV. 353

and Virgil, Cicero and Demosthenes, be-
long not to Greece and Rome, they belong
to us ; they are objects with which we
identify ourselves, as we do with the school
or college in which we have been educat-
ed. Milton and Shakspeare are now re-
moved to a sufficient distance from our
age, to become in the same manner a part
of our peculiar property. Far from being
disposed to dispute their claims to admi-
ration, our intimate acquaintance with
their merits is eagerly exhibited, as proof
of our connexion with these illustrious
persons.

Every celebrated name that has done
honour to our country, in a former agej we
honour and extol, not merely in consider-
ation of their peculiar excellence, but
because, as our countrymen, we connect
their glory with our own. We listen with
pleasure to their praises ; for, as we listen,
the recollection of the connexion that sub-
sists between us, causes the idea of self to

VOL. i. z

354 ESSAY IV.

dilate. The same connexion, the same tie
of common origin, forms not the same
bond of union between us and our co-
temporaries ; for we cannot admit the vali-
dity of their claim to admiration, without
acknowledging that they are in some res-
pects superior to ourselves; and thus the
idea of self would be diminished instead of
being enlarged.

Were envy only to be called into action
by eminent superiority, great and distin-
guished characters would alone be subject
to detraction. But, alas ! the propensity
to enlarge the idea of self renders the ope-
ration of vanity, and its concomitant pas-
sions, equally conspicuous and equally fatal
in every sphere of life, and in society of
every description.

It is observed by a writer of no common
penetration, to whose superior genius an
illustrious rank will be assigned by future
generations, that " every person not defi-

CHAPTER IV. 355

J*r

cient in intellect is more or less occupied
in tracing, amongst the individuals he con-
verses with, the varieties of understanding
and temper which constitute the charac-
ters of men; and receives great pleasure
from every stroke of nature that points
out to him those varieties. This," she
adds, " is, much more than we are aware of,
the occupation of children, and of grown
people also, whose penetration is but
lightly esteemed ; and that conversation
which degenerates with them into trivial
and mischievous tattling, takes its rise not
unfrequently from the same source that sup-
plies the rich vein of the satirist and the
wit."* This source the author, consulting
the benevolence of her own heart, describes
as no other than sympathy, which renders
the mind of man " an object of curiosity
to man."

* Introductory Discourse to the Plays on the Passions,
by Miss JOANNA BAILLIE.

356 ESSAY IV.

«•

But why should the gratification of this
curiosity produce mischievous tattling? In
our eagerness to investigate the springs of
human conduct, why do we not evince an
equal desire of discovering the hidden
worth as the hidden blemish? Were it not
for the degree in which the selfish prin-
ciple operates, sympathy with our fellow-
creatures would naturally excite in us a
desire to discover and proclaim the virtues
which have escaped the notice of the
world. I am, indeed, afraid, that " the
same source too. often supplies the rich
vein of the satirist and the wit;" and " that
the eagerness so universally shewn for the
conversation of the latter, plainly enough
indicates how many people have been oc-
cupied in the same way with ourselves."
That is to say, occupied in endeavouring
to find out some defect or incongruity, that
may justify us to ourselves for withholding
the respect, or love, or approbation, which
it is abhorrent to the selfish principle to

pay-

CHAPTER IV. 357

In the following passage, the amiable
writer from whom I have taken the liberty
to quote, makes a very ingenious apology
for the frivolous nature of common dis-
course.

*' I will readily allow, that the dress and
manners of men, rather than their charac-
ters and dispositions, are the subjects of
our common conversation, and seem chiefly
to occupy the multitude. But let it be
remembered, that it is much easier to ex-
press our observations upon these : It is
easier to communicate to another, how a
man wears his wig and cane, what kind of
house he inhabits, and what kind of table
he keeps, than from what slight traits in
his words and actions we have been led to
conceive certain impressions of his charac-
ter ; traits that will often escape the me-
mory, when the opinions that were found-
ed on them remain. Besides, in communi-
cating our ideas of the characters of others,
we are often called upon to support them

ESSAY IV.

with more expense of reasoning than we
can well afford ; but our observations on
the dress and appearance of men seldom
involve us in such difficulties."

To all this I willingly subscribe. That
the attention of the multitude is chiefly
engaged by objects of perception, and that
it is on these objects that the imagination
of the uncultivated chiefly dwells, is ex-
tremely obvious ; but it remains to be
shewn, why, in communicating our remarks
on the dress, manners, and domestic ar-
rangements of others, we should delight
to find in these somewhat to censure, to
ridicule, or to condemn. Whence does it
proceed, that an exact conformity to our
own peculiar ways, and modes, and habits,
is the only passport to our approbation ?
Whence happens it, that when two or three
are gathered together, who, from similarity
of temper, or circumstances, or situation,
have acquired in some respects a sympathy
in opinions, habits, and pursuits, that agree-

CHAPTER IV. 359

ment should so often be converted into an
offensive league ; according to the very
spirit and letter of which, no mercy is to
be shewn to any, who, in their modes of
dress, or manner of spending their time or
fortune, happen to differ from the present
party ?

Where is the small society to be found,
that is not divided and sub-divided into
leagues of this kind, more or less exclusive,
and more or less inveterate in their antipa-
thies, according as they are cemented by
the spirit of party. But even where no
opposition in political or religious opinions
whets animosity, the propensity to enlarge
the idea of self, when it seeks its gratifica-
tion in lessening and degrading the cha-
racters of others, is never at a loss for
cause of censure and reproach. The same
selfish principle which impels the woman
of fashion to boast of waking while the
vulgar sleep, and of going to rest when
the morning sun calls the busy world into

360 ESSAY IV.

action, impels the rigid observer of early
hours to attach ideas of moral depravity
to every departure from that precise rule
with regard to the time of rising and of
going to bed. Who has not observed the
effect of this tendency to set up some
peculiar notion, peculiar custom, or pe-
culiar habit, as a perfect rule of right
and standard of perfection ? Who has not
heard the conduct of such as depart-
ed from such rules animadverted on with
as much severity as could have been call-
ed forth by the breach of all the ten com-
mandments ? I have lived long enough to
remember, when, in a small circle, the good
ladies who ventured to shew their genti-
lity by protracting the hour of drinking
tea to six o'clock, afforded matter of cen-
sure and reprobation to those who still con-
tinued to assemble at the hour of five : And
as human nature remains unchanged, though
the objects of censure may no longer be
the same, I make no doubt we should still
find, among those who move in a contracted

CHAPTER IV. 361

sphere, the same disposition to observe and
blame whatever did not correspond exactly
with their own practice. Who can doubt,
that in every such species of censure the
mind enjoys a species of triumph derived
from an enlargement of the idea of self?

C3

The proneness to attach ideas of evil to
whatever is done by those who are placed
without that circle, within which alone
we find objects wherewith to identify our-
selves, though it produces similar effects
in societies of every description, is perhaps
never displayed in a more conspicuous light
than in situations which might naturally
be supposed most favourable to the cultiva-
tion of the sympathetic affections. How
erroneous then is the notion so commonly
entertained, with respect to that exemption
from temptation, which is represented as
the peculiar privilege of those who live at
a distance from the busy scenes of life !

May we not rather infer, that as, to the
man of taste, nature, in all her various as-

36*2 ESSAY IV.

pects, presents materials, which, when
associated with ideas of affection, pro-
duce the emotions of sublimity or beauty;
so, to the man in whose heart the selfish
principle predominates, every situation
will present means to gratify his propen-
.sity to enlarge the idea of self, and like-
wise present objects, which, by opposing
that gratification, will excite and afford
exercise to his malevolent affections.

It must be confessed, that the operations
of the selfish principle to which I have
now alluded, produce only petty evils ;
and that the species of malignity described,
neither injures the persons, nor fortunes,
nor, in any material degree, the characters
of our neighbours. Neither, as we may
frequently observe, does it so utterly cor-
rupt the heart, as co destroy the benevolent
affections. It only lessens the sphere of
their influence, and interrupts the con-
stancy of their operations. It renders that
good-will, which ought to be the habitual

CHAPTER IV. 363

temper of our minds, a stranger, or at most
but an occasional inmate, whose visits are
dependent on circumstances. But let
these circumstances occur; let our hearts
be warmed to gratitude by some act of
kindness, or melted to pity by the distress
of the very persons whom it has been our
delight to censure, and how differently
shall we be immediately affected towards
them ! The very actions which we were of
late so forward to condemn, will now ap-
pear to us as innocent, perhaps as praise-
worthy; and, while viewed through the
medium of benevolence, will no longer be
regarded as specks and blemishes, nor the
discovery of them be considered as matter
of self-gratification. A plain proof of how
completely the operation of the selfish
propensity is counteracted and controlled
by the exercise of the benevolent affec-
tions ; and that, on the other hand, while
the selfish principle operates, the benevo-
lent affections are necessarily silenced, and

364 ESSAY IV.

may at length be finally banished from our
hearts,

It is then evidently a matter of no small
importance, to be on our guard against the
activity of a principle, which is in its na-
ture so insidious, that in the cherishing it
we may easily be led to persuade ourselves
we are cherishing a virtue. Those actions
for which we most applaud ourselves, may
thus be converted into snares and tempta-
tions. Even our retirement from the
world, if in retiring from it we identify
ourselves with all who hold certain opi-
nions on the subject of retirement, will
afford gratification to that propensity,
which may be considered as the primary
source of human depravity.

Hence it appears how much those mora-
lists have been mistaken, who, in their zeal
for piety and virtue, have thought it pro-
per to prescribe rules with regard to things
that are in their nature indifferent; and to

CHAPTER IV. 365

lay down the right and wrong with regard
to actions that are in themselves neither
right nor wrong, but derive their character
solely from the dispositions with which
they are performed. By thus descending
to particulars, writers who have obtained
popularity afford materials on which the
selfish propensity seldom fails to operate.
Among the many examples that might
be given of this, I shall select one which
has occasioned much unnecessary dispute :
It is with regard to the unlawfulness of
every species of public amusement. There
certainly is no harm in refraining from
them. But if, in abstaining from amuse-
mentsJ;hat are in their nature innocent, we
identify ourselves with the sect or party
that has proscribed them, we may assure
ourselves, that the enlargement of the idea
of self which we by this means secure, is
fraught with temptations more fatal than
any which either play or opera would have
presented. When our abstinence from all
the amusements and recreations to which

366 ESSAY IV.

others in similar circumstances resort,
serves as a mark of distinction, and is con-
sidered as reflecting honour on our supe-
rior wisdom, or as entitling us to share in
all the fame, and honour, and glory, of any
distinguished party, we soon betray the
dispositions that result from magnifying
the idea of self, by the severity with which
we censure such of our neighbours as con-
descend to be amused in a manner which
we affect to condemn. Thus we may have
seen instances of very young persons, who,
at an age when the want of knowledge
and experience usually begets diffidence,
on becoming converts to the doctrines of
a party, exalting themselves to tjie rank
of censors, and looking with pity and con-
tempt on the parents whom God and na-
ture commands to honour ; and avowing a
consciousness of superiority to those who
were as much their superiors in wisdom as
in years. Can it be questioned, whether
such indulgence of the selfish principle does
not produce effects that are more at vari-

CHAPTER IV. 367

ance with the spirit of the gospel, than any
which could be produced by a temperate
use of any of those means of recreation
which are calculated to enliven the spirits
and invigorate the fancy ? To beings so
prone to err, as all must be who are heirs
to human infirmity, there appears to be no
safe course but in governing our conduct
by fixed and general principles; it being
impossible with these so far to identify
ourselves, as to afford that enlargement of
the idea of self, which, as we have seen,
may be obtained by a conformity to any
particular precept.

Thus, if we adopt it as a principle, that
all amusements are unlawful which pro-
duce upon our minds effects of pernicious
tendency, and unfit us for the due perform-
ance of our religious and social duties, we
must, of consequence, conclude, that it is
according to the degree in which they are
productive of these fatal effects, that
amusements are innocent or sinful.

368 ESSAY IV.

The person, who, from peculiar temper-
ament or peculiar associations, is unfortu-
nately liable to have his spirits excited,
and his imagination inflamed, by the spec-
tacle of a crowded assembly, is, by this
principle, bound to abstain from that spe-
cies of amusement. He, on the other hand,
whose mind is of that complexion as to ex-
perience from the sight of human happiness
a glow of benevolence and pious gratitude ;
• — he, who, in witnessing the innocent gaiety
of youth, the sober cheerfulness of more
advanced life, and the happy remains of
vivacity irradiating like a winter sun the
dim eye of age, feels his heart expand with
tender sympathy and social affection, is
evidently, in the enjoyment of such a scene,
so far from transgressing the rule prescrib-
ed, that he strictly complies with it.

In either of these instances, the adhe-
rence to principle is conspicuous, and is
equally meritorious in each, though it neces-
sarily produces opposite lines of conduct;

CHAPTER IV.

and were it not for the operation of the
selfish principle, each would acknowledge
that the other did well and wisely, and act-
ed in strict conformity with his duty. But,
in order to magnify the idea of self, it is
necessary to substitute, in lieu of the prin-
ciple, the explanation of it, with which the
idea of self is connected. Thus, the amuse-
ment that produces pernicious effects on
us, must be described as necessarily inju-
rious, though on others it produces effects
that are highly salutary ; and by thus
erecting our own peculiar feelings, and no-
tions, as a substitute for a general princi-
ple, we sanction to ourselves the practice
of representing every departure from our
rule, as a departure from principle. The
greater our vanity, the more inordinate our
desire of admiration, the greater will be the
malignity produced in our hearts, by every
attempt made to refute the arguments, or
dissent from the opinions, with which the
idea of self has been connected.
VOL. i. 2 A

370 ESSAY IV. .

The same substitution of their own no-
tions ami practices for a general principle,
will produce the same effects on the advo-
cate for the innocence of those amusements,
which are by the other deemed criminal.
If salutary to him, he will then pronounce
that they must necessarily be salutary to
all. Identifying himself with this opinion,
and with those who embrace it, he will
contemn, and deride, and despise those,
who, by abstaining from such amusements,;
act in opposition to his decree, and refuse
to substitute his feelings and opinions for
principles of higher authority. How fatal
to the interests of that genuine piety, which
always includes the exercise of pure bene-
volence, have such controversies invariably
proved ! After what has been advanced, I
may, without danger of being mistaken,
conclude by observing, that, in the nature
of the fruits they have produced, their
origin is conspicuous, i^/j

371

CHAPTER V.

Distinction between pride and vanity. Peculiar ope-
ration of the selfish principle in the mind of the
proud. Illustrations.

IT will by the intelligent reader be ob-
served, that in speaking of the operation of
the selfish propensity in the vain, I have
sometimes ascribed to it effects that are
more usually attributed to pride than to
vanity. Into this apparent inaccuracy I
have been led, from an opinion, that these
passions rarely exist in a solitary state, but
are generally found combined in the same
character, though, by the influence of the
passion that predominates, the other is
thrown into shade, and, until accidentally
called forth, escapes our notice.

Vanity, when it exists distinct from
pride, is rarely considered as offensive or

372 ESSAY IV.

reprehensible. In this state it some-
times appears in the young, and is per-
haps inevitably consequent on that ex-
pansion of the idea of self, that arises
from the consciousness of a sudden increase
of intellectual vigour, and of recently ac-
quired knowledge. When it has been thus
produced in young and generous minds, it
seldom fails to be speedily corrected by a
view of the obstacles that yet remain to be
surmounted, and the acquirements that yet
remain to be attained ; and it is only when
the mind rests satisfied in identifying itself
with what it has already acquired, that the
consequences become as injurious as they
have been represented.

On pride the selfish principle has a pe-
culiar operation, and one that is in some
respects very different from that which it
has on vanity. While the vain man seeks
to enlarge the idea of self, by openly laying
hold on every circumstance which he can
by any means connect with that idea, the.

CHAPTER V. 373

proud man disdains to declare by what
secret channels he has obtained that ex-
panded notion of self with which he pri-
vately gluts his imagination. On exami-
nation we find, that the materials of which
he makes use are of the very same tex-
ture, nay, that they are often identically
the same as those made use of by the vain
man, but that the very secrecy observed in
obtaining them, has given them, in his
eyes, an additional value. " The proud man
is sincere, and in the bottom of his heart
is convinced of his own superiority, though
it may sometimes be difficult to guess upon
what that conviction is founded. He wishes
you to view him in no other light than
that in which, when he places himself in
your situation, he really views himself. He
demands no more of you than he thinks
justice. If you appear not to respect him
as he respects himself, he is more offended
than mortified, and feels the same indig-
nant resentment as if he had suffered a
real injury. He does not even then, how-

374 ESSAY IV.

ever, deign to explain the grounds of his
own pretensions. He disdains to court
your esteem : He affects even to despise
it, and endeavours to maintain his assumed
station, not so much by making you sensi-
ble of his superiority, as of your own
meanness."* It were folly to attempt im-
proving the likeness presented in this ad-
mirable portrait, in which the characteris-
tic features of pride are delineated by a
master hand. From it we may perceive,
that vanity and pride, when influenced by
the propensity to enlarge the idea of self,
resort to different means, and that it is in
this respect chiefly that they are found to
differ from each other. In the mind of
the vain, the idea of self expands accord-
ing to the degree in which he imagines he
has succeeded in exalting himself in your
opinion. He therefore " endeavours to
bribe you into admiration, and flatters to
be flattered." In the mind of the proud
r [».jfi jflwfc liflif ?>({ <t Wi ;'">:.:• . ,v »;.
* SMITH'S Theory of Moral Sentiment, vol. ii. p. 144.

CHAPTER V. 375

the idea of self expands spontaneously,
and is neither enlarged nor diminished by
your opinion.

.,:.:.il!n^ .! ;.••>;: !vj Ol 'iCml^rK'r "JO .

Such are the characteristics of pride and
vanity, when each of them acts according
to its proper character. But, as has been
justly observed by the profound philosopher
so lately quoted, " the proud man is often
vain, and the vain man is often proud."
" Nothing," he adds, " can be more natu-
ral, than that the man who thinks much
more highly of himself than he deserves,
should wish that other people should think
still more highly of him ; or that the man
who wishes that other people should think
of him more highly than he thinks of him-
self, should at- the same time think much
more highly of himself than he deserves.
Those two views being frequently blended
in the same character, the characteristics of
5both are necessarily confounded; and we
sometimes find the superficial and imper-
tinent ostentation of vanity, joined to the

376 ESSAY iv.

most malignant and derisive insolence of
pride. We are sometimes, on that account,
at a loss how to rank a particular character,
or whether to place it among the proud or
vain."

It may also be remarked, that where
pride and vanity are thus united, the more
active operation of the latter frequently
serves to deceive us into a belief, tha,t in
that character pride has no existence.
We are consequently thrown off our guard,
and to our great surprise discover, that the
man who lately seemed so studious to
please, and to whom our good opinion
seemed so necessary, that in order to court
it he had made an ostentatious display of
the qualities which he knew were held by
us in highest estimation, had been all this
while imposing on our credulity ; and while
he appeared solicitous for our good opi-
nion, held both us and it in contempt. Our
very admiration, as it must have been con-
tined to particulars in which he really had

CHAPTER V.

some claim to excellence, may, while it
seemed to gratify his vanity, have offended
his pride : For our admiration, in being li-
mited, seemed to set limits to that extension
of the idea of self which he had believed
unlimitable. In such cases the proud man,
however long he may in silence brood over
the ideal injury, seldom fails at length to
expose the malignity of the wound that
has been rankling in his bosom. With
astonishment we perceive, that a word,
or look, of which we were nearly uncon-
scious at the time, and which we have
long since forgotten, had done this mighty
mischief, and engendered this black flood
of ever-during wrath and indignation. The
wounds of mortified vanity may easily be
healed, for by the concessions made to
the vain man, the idea of self is increased
to its wonted dimensions ; but the wounds
of offended pride are of such an irritable
nature, that they cannot be touched by
the most delicate hand without ag^ravat-

CJv-*

ing the malignant symptoms; because that

ESSAY IV.

in the very attempt to heal them by conces-
sions, we appear to the proud man as guilty
of sounding the depth of pretensions that
are unfathomable, and of thus circumscrib-
ing his idea of self within certain limits.

If the proud man cannot bear to have
the foundations of that high opinion he
entertains of himself examined by others>
it is not to be supposed that he will impose
upon himself the painful task of scrutinizing
them. In such a state of mind it is impossi-
ble that he should ever submit to wear the
yoke of the gospel. He cannot reduce the
idea of self to those proper dimensions to
which they must be reduced, in order to fit
him for entering the strait gate; but he
may, nevertheless, find means to add to his
ideal proportions, by connecting with the
idea of self, certain doctrines or opinions
connected with religion, and thus obtain
for his pride a deceitful and delusive sanc-
tion. Nor, perhaps, in all its shapes, does
pride ever assume an aspect more injurious

CHAPTER V. 379

to the individual, or more fatal to the in-
terests of religion and the happiness of
society.

A promptness to accuse of pride those who
are placed in circumstances which would
afford to us the means of extending the idea
of self, is a certain proof of the operation of
the same passion in our own hearts. Where,
by narrow fortune, low birth, neglected
education, or other unfavourable circum-
stances, the desire of enlarging the idea of
self meets with a check in any given direc-
tion, those who are in that respect superior
become to the proud the objects of secret,
but vindictive malice. Hence the malig-
nity which the proud and ignorant shew
towards those, who, without being their
superiors in rank, are their superiors in
talents and knowledge. Hence the boast
of ignorance, which frequently issues from
the lips of silly women, as if they were
eager to prove that ignorance has been no

380 £SSAY IV.

obstacle to the growth of pride in their
hearts. Hence the ill concealed contempt
with which the vulgar great affect to speak
of those who are illustrious in the walks of
literature or science. Hence the similar
affectation of contempt on the part of the
proud scholar and philosopher, in speaking
of those who are superior in rank and for-
tune. In all these, and many other in-
stances which might he given, we may
plainly observe the effects produced by any
obstacle, of whatever nature, which im-
pedes the operation of the selfish propen-
sity in any direction, when pride is the
medium through which it operates. When-
ever the proud man is conscious of a defect
in his title to superiority, he is prepared to
hate his brother, though he only, in that
one respect, rises above his own level ; and
as it is impossible for the proudest man to
believe himself, in all respects, superior to
all the world, his pride must necessarily be
accompanied by malignity.

CHAPTER V. 381

In the middling walks of life, and espe-
cially in its more busy scenes, a man is so
often compelled to measure himself by the
opinion of others, and to reduce the idea
of self to something of a parity with that
notion which he observes to be entertained
of him by those around him, that pride is,
in such situations, seldom indulged to ex-
cess. Where, indeed, it has been deeply
rooted in early life, it will still retain an in-
fluence, and, as in other instances, will be
accompanied by a certain portion of malig-
nity; but, in this instance, more detrimental
to the happiness of the individual than to
that of any other person. Like the hypo-
chondriac, who imagined himself placed in
the centre of a globe of glass, whose pre-
servation was essential to his existence,
the proud man, whose idea 'of self is far
extended, walks through the busy crowd
in perpetual anxiety and apprehension,
and receives thousands of imaginary wounds
from those who are not aware of touching
him. The great seem to press on him from

382 ESSAY IV.

above, the vulgar from beneath, and his
companions and equals on all sides threat-
en the imaginary circle with destruction.
Hence he is embroiled in perpetual quarrels,
or devoured by perpetual chagrin; having
no toleration, but for the few who observe
that respectful distance which interferes
not with the limits to which the idea, of
self extends.

Such, in the middling walks of life, are
frequently the effects of a home education
ill conducted.

In the higher and lower classes the seeds
of pride are fostered by circumstances that
do not equally affect the middling classes.
Far from attributing the pride that is some-
times exhibited in the former, to an early
consciousness of that superiority which is
conferred by rank and fortune, I am con-
vinced, that in almost every instance in
which we observe extreme pride to be the
concomitant of greatness, we should find

CHAPTER V. 383

that the idea of self has been permitted to
expand in infancy, before any notions of
the advantages derived from birth, or rank,
or fortune, have been formed. It is the
consciousness of being exalted above his
fellows, while clouds and darkness rest on
the circumstances by which he is exalted,
that first implants the pride which an after
knowledge of his circumstances feeds and
cherishes. Where pains has been taken, in
very early life, to explain the nature and
value of that external homage paid to his
rank, and to set against it the superior
nature and higher value of that homage
which is only paid to personal merit, we
do not find that pride attaches to elevated
rank 5 but are, on the contrary, frequently
called to remark a striking contrast be-
tween the unfeigned humility, gentleness,
and modesty, displayed by persons of exalt-
ed station, and the haughty arrogance and
insolence assumed by persons in all respects
their inferiors. Pride, like the toad, swells
to an enormous size in darkness, and is

3

384 ESSAY IV.

most effectually nourished by the food
which it devours in secret.

By the vanity of parents this secret food
is often conveyed to the infant mind. The
idea of his own importance, which the
child receives before he is capable of con-
ceiving the nature of his superiority, gains
additional strength from its being vague
and undefined ; and, as it increases, every
attempt to diminish it becomes more and
more painful, and is consequently resisted.
The very reluctance which he feels to have
the nature of his pretensions investigated,
is sometimes mistaken by the fond parents
for a proof of superior wisdom, as his choice
of companions, who are inferior to himself,
is in like manner mistaken for humility.
The more accurate observer perceives, in
both instances , the propensity to enlarge
the idea of self operating in his breast.
Instead of boasting of his birth, or fortune,
or rank in life, or connexions, or education,
he seems to look down on all these cir-

CHAPTER V. 385

cumstances, and does in fact consider them
as nothing in themselves, but as deriving
all their importance from their connexion
with him. But although he would resent
as an indignity, the supposition that it was
on any of these circumstances that his pre-
tensions to superiority were founded, when
you attempt to speak slightingly of the
advantages attending rank, or fortune, or
family, &c. you then find, that with all
these circumstances the idea of self is so
.completely interwoven, that, in touching
them, you expose yourself to the same re-
venge as would have been excited by per-
sonal insult.

In the very lowest walks of life we may
observe similar examples of pride nourish-
ed to excess, by vague notions of preten-
sions to superiority, of a nature incapable of
being defined, but, like the former, imbib-
ed in early life ; and, like the former, as
often as any circumstance with which the
idea of self is connected happens to be ap-

VOL. i. 2 B

386 ESSAY IV.

proached, producing the malignant effects
of hatred and revenge. When this vice is
particular!/ prevalent in the lower orders,
persons of superior station are naturally
the objects of jealousy and aversion. A
submission to the laws of subordination is
a voluntary limitation of the idea of self,
and, therefore, subordination will in such
cases be hateful. The proud man in hum-
ble life is clad in secret armour, and bears
in his* bosom a poniard ever ready to re-
venge the imaginary insults he receives
from those who are clothed with autho-
rity. As often as the extension of the idea
of self is forcibly repelled, the spirit of
revenge takes possession of his soul ; and
where no religious or moral principle coun-
teracts its fury, fails not to exhibit itself in
acts of vengeance, modified by the charac-
ter and situation of the individual. But,
whether offended pride avenges itself
through the medium of sarcastic and abu-
sive language, or by attempts at murdering
the reputation of the offending party, or

CHAPTER V. 387

proceeds to the acm£ of human guilt, by
imbruing the hands in blood, the spirit that
leads to those crimes of different dye is
the same. It is, in every instance, cruel
and vindictive. We might, indeed, expect,
from the nature of pride, that it should
be attended by cruelty ; for, as the idea of
self is, in the proud man, enlarged, not by

«

a participation in the glory, or honours, or
renown, or rank, or wealth, of those with
whom that idea is connected, but by cer-
tain undefined notions of superiority, while
he actually appropriates to himself all that
confers distinction on his country, his
party, his family, or friends, he still consi-
ders their chief and only value to consist
in being his. Far from considering him-
self as bound to them by equal ties, his
pride rejects the notion of reciprocity.
From those immediately connected with
him he demands an absolute renouncement
of the idea of self, a self-annihilation :
They must identify their wills and inclina-
tions with his, or they no longer help to

388 ESSAY IV.

swell the idea of self in his mind. The
moment that they are suspected of harbour-
ing a design to resist his authority, and to
think or act in any instance from the dic-
tates of their own reason, or their own feel-
ings, they become obnoxious to his resent-
ment. In the expression of this resent-
ment he is not restrained, like other men,
by the idea of equal rights and reciprocal
duties, for pride acknowledges not the
force of either; and, consequently, when
led by resentment to acts of cruelty, is
without compunction, and unsusceptible of
remorse.

If this description be agreeable to truth ;
if the propensity to enlarge the idea of self,
operating through the medium of pride,
renders the character thus completely
odious ; whence comes it that pride is often
mentioned in terms that denote respect
and approbation ? As a national feeling it
is always thus mentioned and gloried in,
as denoting a high sense of national honour

CHAPTER V. 389

and national dignity. And, in consequence
of this false association, pride is considered
as an honourable and distinguishing fea-
ture in the characters of those who bear
arms in the service of their country, and
as essentially connected with heroism and
valour.

Agreeably to this notion, a code of mo-
rality has been established, which is, in
every particular, directly opposite to the
laws of God, and repugnant to the dictates
of reason. Framed for the purpose of sanc-
tioning the unbounded gratification of pride,
it attaches the pains and penalties of dis-
grace to the forgiveness of injuries, and
proposes fame and glory as the rewards of
resentment and revenge. Let him who
doubts the truth of this representation turn
to the journals of the day, and he will sel-
dom fail to find in them the account of
some duel, which, on investigating the cir-
cumstances that occasioned it, will afford
ample testimony of the nature of the laws

3£)0 ESSAY IV.

of honour, and prove them to be in reality
the laws of pride. In almost every in-
stance he will find, that the offence which,
according to the code of honour, could only
be expiated by the death of the offender,
was merely an offence against pride. An
attempt, or a supposed attempt, to derogate
from that with which the idea of self was
connected in the breast of him who has re-
venged the insult. It may be, he has spoken
slightingly of his dog, or horse, or wife, dr
mistress ; or differed from him in opinion ;
or called in question the wisdom of some
transaction in which his party was con-
cerned : it makes no difference ; the offence
is in every case exactly of the same com-
plexion, and in its essence consists in having
repelled that extension of the idea of self,
which pride desires that all should deem
sacred and unlimitable. Rather than submit
to the mortification of restraining this no-
tion of self, he stakes his life against the
life of the aggressor ; neither fearing man,
who can destroy the body, nor " God, who

CHAPTER V. 391

has power to cast both soul and body into
hell."

In every state of society, pride may in-
deed be very properly represented as the
god of war. In the infancy of nations,
long before the mental powers haye been
sufficiently cultivated to systemize ambi-
tion, the propensity to enlarge the idea of
self, connected with pride, inspires in man
the desire of bringing his fellow-men into
subjection. From all that is known of the
history of savages it appears, that the very
first use made of the glimmering light
afforded by the dawn of intellect, is to
attempt effecting, by combination, a more
complete gratification of pride than any
individual could by his single arm procure.

From what yet remains of the poetry of
the barbarians of ancient Europe, we learn,
that the savage, on returning from his war
of pride, raised the song of triumph, in
which he recapitulated with exultation all

392 ESSAY iv.

the horrid deeds of cruelty perpetrated by
his tribe in the pursuit of vengeance. He
gloried in having devoured the flesh of his
enemies, and in having converted their
skulls into cups from which he quaffed
their blood. - This was then the pride of
war !

As civilization advanced, war assumed a
somewhat milder aspect; but still, through
every period of the history of man we may
perceive, that in proportion as pride ope-
rates in the contending parties, the mise-
ries of v.~ar are augmented, and its crimes
assume a deeper dye. As the pride of the
governing party is always more offended
by rebellion against its authority, than by
the hostility of foreign states, civil wars
are accompanied by more atrocious acts of
indiscriminating cruelty, than wars with
foreign nations. In foreign wars, the for-
tified places which bid defiance to the in-
vading army, offend its pride by resistance ;
and how dearly they pay for that offence,

CHAPTER V. 393

the mournful detail of the savage, and worse
than savage, cruelties, committed by Chris-
tian armies in places taken by assault, can,
alas, too amply testify ! The horrid out-
rages committed by the brutal fury of the
conquerors, on the innocent and defence-
less, give us a complete view of the nature
of the pride of war ; that pride, of which
we are accustomed to speak as constitut-
ing the soldier's glory !

I have been led to trespass too far on
the reader's patience, in entering into these
particulars; but as I am persuaded that
much moral evil has resulted from con-
founding the notions of pride with notions
of magnanimity, dignity, and heroism, I
have thought it of some importance to
show, that pride has no alliance with any
quality, or sentiment, or feeling, that is the
object of esteem or moral approbation.

It is of some consequence that we learn
carefully to distinguish between pride and

394 ESSAY iv.

heroism, as our notions of right and wrong,
of vice and virtue, can never, in any in-
stance, be confounded, without sullying
the purity of our moral principles. And
therefore, though to usj who are destined
to tread the humble path of private life,
the actions of those who are placed in a
very different sphere, cannot properly be
held up as affording either warning or ex-
ample, the motives displayed in the course
of these actions become the proper objects
of our investigation.

In reading the history of the great
achievements of princes and warriors of
former times, we are presented with fre-
quent opportunities of observing, not only
the degree in which the selfish principle
operated in their breasts, but the degree
in which it operated in the historians by
whom the account of their actions has
been transmitted to posterity. In the
triumphs obtained by the proud and power-
ful over the humble and defenceless, none

CHAPTER V. 39-5

can sympathize, but in proportion as they
identify themselves with the conqueror.
No sooner does this identification take
place, than his triumphs become theirs.
However stained by cruelty, perfidy, or in-
justice, he is henceforth transformed into
a hero, and dignified by all the epithets
expressive of admiration. The reader, the
young reader especially, is apt thus to be
surprised into approbation of deeds, which,
if stated in their native deformity, his soul
would have abhorred. With his notions of
heroism he thenceforth mingles notions of
a pride that disdains all the restraints of
religion and morality, and which exults in
annihilating the happiness, and trampling
on the rights, of all other mortals. But
are we hence authorized to conclude, that
the writer, by whose misjudging- applica-
tion of epithets our notions of heroism are
in danger of being perverted, was himself
as destitute of moral principle, as the con-
queror whose character he so much extols?
No : The applause he bestows, and the ad-

396 ESSAY IV.

miration he expresses, are only to be con-
sidered as the consequences of having view-
ed the person whose deeds he celebrates, as
in some manner identified with himself.
In recording the triumphs of his hero, he
feels an expansion of the idea of self; and,
in consequence of this ideal connexion, is
impelled, not, perhaps, to magnify his ex-
ploits, or to conceal his crimes, but to gild
them with the name of virtues.

It is from a similar operation of the sel-
fish principle, that biography in general,
and with few exceptions, is written in the
tone of panegyric : none but the few who
possess sufficient strength and elevation
to fix their view steadily on truth, being
capable of preserving a uniform impartiali-
ty, with regard to any object, or character,
that necessarily engages much of their at-
tention.

Hence arises innumerable obstacles to
the attainment of that knowledge of hu-

CHAPTER V. 397

man character, to which we expect to find
in biography a powerful assistant. In ma-
ny instances, a variety of causes conspire
to frustrate the expectation. But when
neither motives of delicacy, nor friendship,
nor affection, restrain the pen, and thus
render the description imperfect, the con-
nexion that subsists between the biogra-
pher and the subject of his work, is such,
as naturally to produce in the mind of the
former, an association, in which the idea of
self, and of his subject, is firmly united.
He thenceforth endeavours to procure for
him that esteem and admiration, on which
he sets the highest value; and though his
integrity may not permit him to falsify the
relation of facts, he ascribes to him, in ge-
neral terms, virtues and perfections which
are totally at variance with the facts dis-
closed in the course of the narrative. The
consequences are extremely mischievous.
From the regard to truth displayed in the
relation of events, the unpractised reader
is led to place implicit confidence in the

398 ESSAY iv.

writer's judgment and veracity, and, adopt-
ing his opinions, approves and justifies,
where reason and religion would have
taught him to censure and condemn. If
his imagination has been so much excited,
as to produce.a lively interest in the subject
of the memoir; and should he afterwards be
obliged to give up the defence of his char-
acter as untenable, it is not improbable that
he may, as a security against being again
imposed upon, become sceptical with regard
to the existence of public or private virtue.
A scepticism which acts as a deadly poison
on the moral feelings, and annihilates all
the generous sympathies of the heart.

This species of scepticism is frequently,
and is indeed naturally, the concomitant of
excessive pride. For as the proud man
cherishes an internal assurance of his own
independent and indefeasible superiority,
he must necessarily be to himself the ul-
timate standard of perfection. He may, if
placed in an elevated rank, perform the du-

CHAPTER V. 399

ties of his station, and even display inflex-
ible integrity, magnanimous fortitude, and
fervent zeal, in the service of his country ;
for these may correspond with his notions
of what is due to his own dignity : But
to acknowledge that any human being was
ever inspired by higher motives, and that
others perform from principles of duty, and
from a pure love of their country and of
mankind, greater and nobler actions, though
of the same complexion as those he has
performed from a regard to self, would be
to confess his own inferiority. We can-
not therefore be surprised to find him on
this point completely sceptical.

In private life, the same causes produce
the same effects. The man who is con-
scious that he never acts from any but
mean and interested motives, and who is
totally incapable of discerning any con-
nexion between his own interests and the
interests of the community, if his notions
of self have been formed under the influ-

400 ESSAY IV.

ence of pride, must naturally conclude,
that all pretensions to public virtue is mere
hypocrisy. Considering all as equally de-
praved, and equally unworthy of trust or
confidence, he, as far as his influence ex-
tends, paralyzes the efforts, and extin-
guishes the spirit of patriotism. His con-
versation has the effects of a torpedo, in
benumbing the generous feelings of the
youthful bosom. Those who hear him
are persuaded to disbelieve the testimony
of their own hearts, and to doubt whether
their love of virtue is not a delusion of
imagination. If, unfortunately, their con-
sciences bear witness against them, it is by
doubts of the reality of virtue silenced for
ever.

We may without scruple pronounce on
the character of him, who asserts, that all
are uniformly influenced by the same sel-
fish and sordid motives, as evidently go-
vern some individuals in every station.
Such opinions can only be the result of

CHAPTER V.

conscious depravity, or excessive pride.
And though a disposition to believe ill of
all, or a complete scepticism with regard
to the existence of virtue, is generally con-
sidered as a proof of conscious- un worthi-
ness, as it may proceed from that aversion
to contemplate, or to acknowledge superio-
rity, which accompanies excessive pride, we
may infer, that it most frequently originates
in that source. To the same source may
be traced that pertinacity in adhering to
the opinions we have once avowed, which,
like other operations of pride, has been
sometimes extolled as a virtue. This erro-
neous notion of the glory of obstinacy is
so extremely irrational, that we cannot ac-
count for its prevalence by supposing, that
those by whom it is entertained are inca-
pable of perceiving any essential difference
between a persistence in opinions, and an
adherence to principles. Every person of
common understanding must be conscious,
that upon almost every subject with which
he is conversant, his opinions have, from
VOL. i. 2 c

402 ESSAY IV.

childhood to maturity, undergone many
revolutions. As far as the • opinions in
which he professes to rest, have been form-
ed by his own judgment, and not blindly
adopted on the authority of others, they
must, in every period of his life, have uni-
formly corresponded with the degree of
knowledge he possessed ; and, consequent-
ly, by every increase of knowledge, must
have been considerably changed. On all
propositions that admit not of demonstra-
tion, his opinions must have been formed
on the evidence before him ; and if the
love of truth and knowledge has inspired
his heart, he will have sought for evidence
on every side, nor refused to listen to any
without weighing its credibility.

At what period of life is the court of
judgment to be shut, and all further testi-
mony on subjects, concerning which the
opinions have been already formed, to be
excluded? If it be in youth that this de-
termination is taken, the opinions conceiv-

CHAPTER V. 403

ed on a hasty and partial examination of
the first evidence that chance threw in the
way, will be asserted as infallible truths to
the latest period of life. Or, though it be
not till we have arrived at mature age that
we resolve to refuse admission to any fur-
ther evidence, still the chance is, that we
may have excluded the evidence most
nearly allied to truth, aud that our opinions
must consequently be erroneous. What
glory do we then derive from asserting*,
and from proving, that our opinion, once
formed upon any subject of reasoning, is
unalterable? The glory consists solely in
that extension of the idea of self, which
we procure in maintaining opinions with
which, as our peculiar property, we have
identified ourselves. The mortification
which we, on the other hand, experience,
in confessing that we have changed or re-
linquished them, arises from that sensible
diminution of the idea of self, which is on
such occasions inevitably produced.

ESSAY IV.

We exult in inflicting this mortification
on others, and gladly represent their change
of opinion upon any important subject, as
a degradation, an acknowledgment of in-
feriority to us; and this, though perhaps
conscious that we have embraced the opi-
nions we cherish, and to which they have
come round, without any previous exami-
nation or conviction, but merely because
they are the opinions of those by whom
we have been educated, or with whom we
are connected in society. The triumph is,
in this instance, a triumph of the selfish
principle in our own breasts ; and will be
more or less conspicuous, according as we
are more or less capable of reasoning, or of
reflecting upon the motives by which we
are influenced. This will further be render-
ed evident from observing, how very differ-
ently we are affected, when a person, whose
opinions have hitherto been avowedly the
same as ours, professes to have changed
them upon conviction. In vain does he lay
before us the evidence by which he has

CHATTER V. 405

been convinced; in vain does he endeavour
to obviate our indignation, by recapitulating
the arguments by which he has been con-
verted: To give credit to his professions of
conviction, would be to cast disgrace on
those opinions with which we have con-
nected the idea of self; and therefore we
must endeavour to account for the change,
by ascribing it to folly, to caprice, to sor-
did views of interest, or to total dereliction
of principle.

How far the dread of such censures may
have retarded the progress of knowledge,
and protracted the reign of prejudice and
error, cannot easily be ^determined ; but
that it has, in numerous instances, proved
injurious, and even fatal, to individual
minds, no person of observation will deny.
While the association which attaches an
idea of glory to a pertinacious adherence
to opinions that have once been openly
avowed, continues to prevail, the road to
truth will be strewed with thorns, and

406 ESSAY IV.

pride will again be taught to glory in error
and ignorance. And if this association
have its origin in that propensity to mag-
nify the idea of self, which it so obviously
tends to gratify, it can only be broken by the
aid of principles which, wherever they have
due influence, subject the selfish propen-
sity to their authority. Hence arises ano-
ther and a cogent argument, for directing
the attention of the young to truth, as the
object to which they ought constantly to en-
deavour to approximate, but of which they
ought never to consider themselves as hav-
ing arrived to the possession, until they
have approached it on every side, and view-
ed it in every possible aspect. This, they
would soon learn, is not to be done in haste,
nor on the very entrance on their studies;
and, consequently, instead of considering
the opinions then formed as infallible cer-
tainties, they would, from a consciousness
of the scanty data on which their inferences
were grounded, cherish, with regard to
them, a becoming diffidence.

CHAPTER V. 407

It is with the diffidence I am recom-
mending, that I venture to express my
doubts, whether the practice so much en-
couraged in some seminaries of education,
of forming societies in which subjects of
importance are to be debated by young
students, be not, upon the whole, more
dangerous than useful. When we take
into consideration the strength of the pro-
pensity to enlarge the idea of self, and the
eagerness with which we connect that
idea with the opinions to which we have
given utterance, we must admit, that the
more openly our opinions are avowed and
published, the more deeply do we become
interested in maintaining them. The at-
tention is thus directed by the selfish prin-
ciple to a minute examination of every evi-
dence that offers on one side of the ques-
tion, but is forcibly withdrawn from the
pursuit of evidence on the other. Glory
is set before the champion as the reward
of victory, and the victory is not less a
victory for being gained by the arts of

4O8 ESSAY IV.

eloquence or sophistry, in opposition to
truth. Have we not reason to suspect,
that the habits of mind thus produced
must be fatal to that mental freedom, the
preservation of which is so essentially ne-
cessary in every inquiry after truth. How
can he be said to inquire with freedom,
whose judgment has been early bribed to
determine according to the tenor of those
opinions, with which, from his public avow-
al of them, he is in his own mind identi-
fied ? Nor is it on abstract propositions
alone, that an early and vehement conten-
tion for opinions hastily adopted, is attend-
ed with consequences prejudicial to the
individual, and to the progress of know-
ledge. It produces dogmatists in every
branch of science, who set themselves in
array against every new discovery or im-
provement, however useful or ingenious :
dogmatists in literature, who, when they
cannot answer an opponent by arguments,
traduce his motives or attack his character;
and dogmatists in conversation, who talk

CHAPTER V.

long and loudly, but listen only to them-
selves.

*

Though observations on the love of one's
country belong more strictly to the subse-
quent Essay, as all national prejudices ori-
ginate in the selfish principle, a few re-
marks on these may here with propriety
be introduced.

To the love of country, no heart in which
the affections glow, can be insensible. It
is the natural result of associations \vhich
have a powerful influence in every generous
breast. It is an extension of the feelings
of filial and fraternal love, and may be con-
sidered as giving to philanthropy " a local
habitation and a name !" But, by the ope-
ration of the selfish principle, this noble,
and generous, and useful sentiment, is per-
verted and debased ; and instead of pro-
ducing the fruits of benevolence, in aug-
menting the happiness of the object of af-

8

410 ESSAY IV.

faction, produces only the blindness of pre-
judice, and the malice of bigotry.

As there is no object with which we can
more easily identify ourselves, than with
the land that gave us birth, there is no ob-
ject with which we are more apt to connect
the idea of self, and, consequently, if the
selfish principle predominates in our hearts,
our love of country will be only a modifi-
cation of that principle. When the love
of country has only this foundation, we
may expect to find an extreme proneness
to laud and magnify our nation, and all
that belongs to it; and to assert its inhe-
rent superiority above all other nations ;
for, being that wherewith we are identified,
its glory becomes ours. We may likewise
expect an anxious desire to conceal from
ourselves and others the faults that require
correction, the defects that demand a re-
medy, and the circumstances which are
susceptible of improvement ; for the ac-
knowledgment of these things would tend

CHAPTER V. 411

to diminish the idea of self, by derogating
from that notion of perfection by which it
is magnified. But it would be vain to ex-
pect from this species of nationality, any
of the noble results of genuine patriotism.

It is, accordingly, not from minds in
whom national prejudices are most conspi^
cuous, that plans for national improvement
have generally originated. When the de-
sire of promoting national happiness, and
of augmenting national prosperity, has
prompted to active exertion, we may con-
sider these exertions as an indubitable
proof, that the love of country has, in that
instance, been inspired and supported by
those generous sympathies which are pro-
ductive of, and afford perpetual exercise to
the benevolent affections. In the latter
instance, the attention is directed to the
means of procuring additional good to the
national family at large, and in this respect
partakes of the nature of parental, as well
as of filial love; but it is neither blind to

412 ESSAY IV.

defects, nor anxious to defend them. It is
not zealous to justify, but to improve; and,
with affectionate solicitude, seeks to trans-
plant the virtues of every region to its na-
tive soil.

When the love of country is grafted on
the propensity to magnify the idea of self,
we likewise may observe much of the ar-
dour of zeal ; but it operates in a quite op-
posite direction to that which has been
just described. It seeks not to improve,
but to justify. It repels with indignation
the supposition, that improvement is in any
instance possible ; and loudly condemns
and vilifies, as want of patriotism, the at-
tempt to point out where improvement is
necessary. As national bigotry begets na-
tional hatred to all countries with which
the bigot is not identified, whatever ad-
vantages might result from adopting cus-
toms, or modes of living, or habits of in-
dustry, from other countries, the idea of
introducing tbem is rejected with indigna-

CHAPTER V. 413

tion, as implying a tacit acknowledgment,
that in that instance the abhorred nation
is superior.

•Jfii ti'JjraJ£ #*#&<> W-KJU ?il(>*ifc7^^vloa;,

These remarks might be illustrated by
many examples. But as there are few per-
sons of any observation, who have not in
their recollection instances of national pre-
judice that are equally amusing and in-
structive, I forbear descending to particu-
lars, and shall only generally observe, that
it is perhaps impossible for real patriotism
to be more beneficially manifested, than in
exposing the evil consequences that have
resulted from that spurious nationality,
which, like every other operation of the
selfish principle, is connected with envy,
hatred, and malignity. Were it not for
the barrier that is thus presented, how
quickly would every useful improvement
be disseminated throughout all parts of the
realm ? Were those of superior station but
half as anxious to promote the welfare, as
they are anxious to defend the usages of the

414 ESSAY IV.

districts to which they happen to belong,
how would the barren desert rejoice, and the
wilderness be made to blossom as the rose!
In our observations upon other nations, in-
stead of earnestly directing our attention to
the discovery of some imperfections, in or-
der to justify our partiality for the defects
subsisting in our own, it were iiubler surely,
anxiously to observe " whatsoever things
are just, true, lovely, and of good report f
and if there be any virtue, and if there
be any praise, or any thing praise-wor-
thy, to note these things as examples to be
held up for imitation. In pursuing a con-
trary course, we may, by reflecting upon
what passes in our own minds, obtain the
sad, but salutary conviction, that it is not
by the love of country we are inspired, but
by the love of self that we are instigated.

.

There is scarcely one unamiable qua-
lity which will not be found, on inves-
tigation, to have originated in the pro-
pensity to magnify the idea of self. But

CHAPTER V. 415

it is by reflecting on what passes within
our own hearts, that this can alone be
proved with any advantage to ourselves.
After having with diligence and sincerity
examined the motives by which we have
on all occasions been actuated, we shall
probably be disposed to make more allow-
ance than we perhaps have bee'n accus-
tomed to make, for the operation of the
selfish principle in the minds of others.
For, though it may not in them operate ex-
actly in the same manner as in ourselves, —
" If we say that we," in this respect, "have
no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth
is not in us."

A farther exposition of the effects pro-
duced by the propensity to enlarge the idea
of self, may therefore have its use ; and
the subject shall accordingly be pursued in
the subsequent volume.

END OF VOLUME FIRST.

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