402 



ON THE GENERAL 



being-, is good, pleasure, or happiness : for they all, as in the words of the 

 poet, imply the same thing : — 



O Happiness! oi5r being's end and aim, 



Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content, wliate'er thy name. 



But good, pleasure, or happiness are generic names for a thousand different 

 objects, each of which is pursued as many different ways, not only by differ- 

 ent individuals, but sometimes at different periods by the very same person. 

 In all these cases we perceive so many different motives or moving powers. 

 Yet whence comes it, not only that different persons but that the same indi- 

 vidual should have a different motive or moving power to-day from what he 

 had yesterday, or perhaps only half an hour before] 



Tihe cause may, indeed, be some sudden and impetuous gust of passion by 

 which the mind may be stormed and led captive, as by a coup-de-main ; but 

 it may also be a deliberate determination of the mind itself. And, in' truth, 

 this last is the general cause, to which a sudden and impetuous ebullition of 

 the passions forms but a few occasional exceptions. It is this exercise of 

 deliberation that alone renders man a rational and accountable being. All 

 human laws act upon the same principle : they suppose him (saving the few 

 extreme cases just alluded to) to be under the influence of a controlling 

 judgment, and they reward or punish him accordingly. And such is the 

 force of habit and long association, that we notunfrequently behold the' judg- 

 ment exercising this control, in a mind evidently unsound and wandering ; 

 and the cunning maniac concealing a skilful design or a deep-rooted passion 

 till the due moment arrives for executing the one, or gratifying the other. 



Now, in all these cases, the determination of the judgment, which forms the 

 motive or moving power, is as much a voluntary act of the mind, whether 

 right or wrong, as the change of one or more ciphers in the common arith- 

 metical sum, in consequence of our discovering an error upon working it a 

 second time. This determination, or motive, however, may be changed every 

 hour, or even every minute ; for the mind may take a new view of the sub- 

 ject : it may obtain clearer ideas from fresh sources ; or other affections 

 may be called into play than those which have hitherto produced an influence ; 

 and what before was decided to be a certain path to pleasure, may next be 

 decided to be as certain a road to misery and ruin. 



And so active is the judgment in asserting its control, that even where the 

 mind is borne down by the most violent passions, it still strives, at times, to 

 recover its authority, and is seldom quiet till it has succeeded. Let me offer 

 a single example in elucidation of this assertion. 



Behold the enamoured youth, who, after having struggled for years with an 

 unebbing current of obstacles, finds himself, at length, in possession of the 

 fair object of his heart's affection. Here, the reigning power must necessa- 

 rily be the passion of love, and it v/ould be somewhat cynical to look for any 

 thing else. Ask him in what his happiness consists, and what are the mo- 

 tives that stimulate every action of his life, and he will at once point to his 

 beloved bride, without whom, he M'ill tell you, that all nature would be a 

 blank: and with whom, that a wilderness would be a paradise. Behold her 

 next, by the stealthy and startling hand of death, snatched away from his 

 embraces. What now is the condition of the mind? the new' motives that 

 distract it 1 and the conduct to which they give rise ] Is it possible that an 

 ember of happiness can remain to him now ] — Yes, even here, in the rack of 

 anguish, he has still his delight — a lonely and melancholy one, I am com- 

 pelled to grant, but he has his delight notwithstanding ; and the mind is as 

 much hurried away, and as violently by the present impulse, which is to weep 

 over her remains, as by the past, which was to devote himself to her wishes 4 



He haunts the deep cathedral shade, 

 The green sward where his love is laid, 

 And hugs her urn, and o'er the tomb 

 Hangs, and enjoys the speclred gloom. 



