opinion of others for its full satisfaction, while the consciousness of our wants, and of our own insufficiency to supply them, makes us crave their good-will. But on the other hand, esteem and good-will are akin to each other in the human heart; for are not we disposed to wish and to do good to those whom we esteem, and also to esteem those on whom we bestow our good-will? We are apt to blind ourselves to their faults, or to palliate them; and we even go so far as to ascribe to them good qualities which they do not possess. Of this we have a flagrant instance in the partiality of parents to their children. And is it not true on the other hand, that we find difficulty in wishing well to those whom we despise, even though they may have given us no personal cause of offence?

No moralist has ventured to blame our desire for the good-will of others. It is so natural to beings who continually need each other's help, and who are bound to afford it whenever they can. Why, then, should our natural disposition to seek the approbation of our fellowmen be censured? why should the general love of honour be reprobated? Here again men have confounded use with abuse, and involved both in the same condemnation. We have already mentioned the various points to which men refer their self-esteem: and to the same may also be referred the different kinds of respect which they claim from their fellows. If they seek to deserve consideration by praiseworthy personal qualities they aim at true honour; and as these qualities are attainable by all, this desire will produce a noble emulation, but no rivalry.

But if any one seeks to gain approbation by devious means, he covets false honour; he falls a prey to vanity. And this passion becomes more or less ardent, more or less ridiculous, and will often sacrifice every other consideration to its own gratification. If need be, it will assume the mask of hypocrisy, careless as to what it is, and only anxious as to what it appears to be. Blind vanity, moreover, is as easily duped, as it is desirous to dupe others; and will take mere outward demonstration as a proof of approbation.

The duty of education is to restrain or repress vanity

in young hearts; but let it beware of quenching in them a desire for the esteem of others. On the contrary, it ought to arouse their feeling of honour, where it is dormant, and to bear in mind this ancient maxim, "That man is lost, who has lost all sense of shame." Nevertheless, the Christian will seek first the praise which cometh from God, and education must of course give this right direction to its pupils.

Social Tendency.

All the elements of our personal tendency have also a social bearing, inasmuch as they incline us towards our companions in life, and render us dependent upon them, though only out of regard to our own interest. The desire for their esteem and good-will renders us dependent on their opinion and wishes. Self-respect, so far from being independent of the opinion of others, is often blindly guided by it. And even sensual and intellectual enjoyments, though essentially selfish, yet are hardly to be obtained except through the intervention or assistance of others; and oblige us, therefore, to consider one another. Besides, there are other pleasures, which can only be tasted by participation; and thus it is that every thing is harmoniously linked in human nature, of which unity is the fundamental law.

Personal tendency has done, and must do, much for the benefit of the community, though not actuated by this motive; but it is not alone in the human heart. Associated with it is another, which is essentially disinterested, and this we denominate social tendency.

The egotistical school has dared to deny its existence. Every language, however, has sanctioned the words goodness, gratitude, generosity, disinterestedness, &c. These words, and other similar ones, designate affections which only consider the good of others; and if these affections did not exist in the human heart, language would not have included them in its vocabulary. Whence, indeed, would the idea have been derived?

The social tendency is based upon sympathy, an admirable provision of nature, which, by drawing us out of

ourselves, transplants us into our fellow-men, that we may "rejoice with those that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep." Here imagination plays an important part; for the more lively and ardent it is, the more forcible is our sympathy.

Who will not trace the views of the Creator in endowing the human heart with this gift, as a counterpoise to the personal tendency which, though it draws men together, yet refers everything to self?

Gratitude.

If we attentively contemplate the infant about six weeks old, we may, as it were, watch over the birth of this beautiful emotion. The little creature has received from his first entrance into life, the cares and caresses of his mother. Before his faculties had begun to unfold, all was dark to him. But the night gradually wears away: the child sees, hears, and distinguishes sounds and objects; and he recognises her whose breast he sucks, who supplies all his wants, who greets him with smiles, with sweet looks, and soft words, of which he can only understand the tone, and who dries his tears with a kiss. The new-born babe has already made an advance in life, which no philosophy can explain; he has passed into the world of spirits; he has discovered invisible goodness under its outward garb, and by demonstrations which alone belong to the province of the senses. He has confided in this goodness, and in its readiness to serve him; and when on waking he does not find his mother by his side, he calls her by his cries, in the full confidence that when she hears them she will hasten to him.

ness.

In all this there is nothing more than personal tendency, which leans on the most tender and generous goodBut this goodness has produced its image in the child; a spiritual generation much more wonderful than that which took place at childbirth. Goodness has produced gratitude, or goodness in return. You will see the little infant giving smile for smile. This is a sweet exchange, or reciprocity, for there is goodness on both sides. One has the priority; the other could only follow, for it

was dormant, and had to be roused. Then later you will see the nursling stretching out his little hands to his nurse, in order to gladden her by his caresses. After

wards you will see him offering to her the very gift he has received from her, and putting into her mouth his bit of bread or fruit, that she too may eat with him, and share his pleasure. Is all this egotism? Let the child grow up, and if he is not spoilt, you will see his innate gratitude expand and strengthen, till it grows into self-sacrifice.

Gratitude is not restricted within the narrow limits of the family; it shows itself wherever there are men to confer, and men to receive benefits. We speak of men, of those whose nature is developed, and not of those beings in human form who have never attained to maturity, like fruits which have never ripened, or in which some insect has deposited its egg, and produced a gnawing loathsome worm.

That gratitude has its name in every language upon earth, is sufficient to prove its universality. And shall we be told that this word implies a spirit of calculation, which inclines us to do good to those from whom we receive, in order to receive good again from them? The very reverse is the truth; for gratitude vanishes, and with it our respect, the moment that interested motives appear.

Pity

arises from sympathy, by which we share in the sufferings of others. It takes interest in them, and seeks to relieve them.

This noble affection has been denied to human nature by some, who have said that, when moved by commiseration, we only seek to ease ourselves of the painful impressions involuntarily produced in us at sight of the suf ferings of others; and true it is that there are those who will give alms to the poor, in order to escape their importunity, just as there are others who shun the sight of suffering, lest it should incommode them. But these can lay no claim to compassion, or, if they dared to do so, they would be told that there is no real compassion in following the impulses of self-interest.

Compassion, in the common acceptation of the term, implies a momentary forgetfulness of self, and a disinterested desire to relieve the unhappy, if only by bestowing attention upon them, and giving them the comfort of feeling that their woes are known and pitied. But the compassion which has been implanted in us by the Creator, will not content itself with these mere emotions; it will extend to self-denial, it will seek out the wretches in their hovels, and will incur the most painful privations for their relief. Look around you, look within you, and you will everywhere find traces of that generous compassion which feels for human woes, and which endeavours to remove, or at least, alleviate them.

Benevolence.

By sympathy we not only share in the sufferings of others, but also in their pleasures. And with this other class of social feelings there is a corresponding disposition in the human heart, which leads us to impart pleasure to others, without any personal motive. We give to this disposition the name of benevolence; and it becomes beneficence, when it expresses itself in words or actions.

If the existence of this disinterested inclination were also denied, we should say, in the first place, that as the Creator has not formed the heart of man by halves, sympathy in pleasure must have its correlative, as sympathy in pain has that of compassion. We would also appeal to experience, whose testimony is unanswerable as to matters of fact. And, as an instance, we shall again give that of the mother. Compassion first binds her to the poor frail little being, whom she has brought into the world. But her nursling gradually increases in strength; he begins to enjoy life; he wakes up, in order to look about him; he listens, he smiles, and he finds in his mother an ever-watchful benevolence which studies his pleasures.

This benevolence, which strews the path of life with flowers, is not the exclusive prerogative of mothers; for it shows itself wherever it is not stifled by egotism. It is to be found in the family relationships of husband and wife,