in their nature, but this may endure for years, and animate life till its close.

With the following maxims of Bacon we may sum up the foregoing reflections :

"Qui sapit desiderium quærat: nam qui non aliquid insigniter appetit, ei omnia ingrata sunt et tædio plena."

"Non est melior ordinatio animi quam ex imperio affectus alicujus insignis."

II. Philosophers, moralists, and poets have united in extolling the pleasures of Hope. Now hope is nothing but desire, combined with belief in the probability of the attainment of its object. The belief may vary in every conceivable degree from a bare possibility to nearly absolute certainty, and the compound state of mind may receive different appellations accordingly, as it rises from a bare wish to hope, from hope to expectation, from expectation to confidence, but the essential elements of these three are still the same, and vary only in degree. In all, emotion is combined with relation; a desire with a judgment. Now in order that a desire may be either strong or permanent, it is necessary that it be united with such a belief, otherwise it merely passes through the mind and leaves no trace behind. We We may feel a momentary wish for things quite beyond our reach, but no more; the impossibility of attainment stifles it almost in its birth. We do not hear of persons in the humbler walks of life falling in love with those far above them, though the converse is by no means uncommon. Therefore the difference of manners and tastes will not alone account for the fact. The pea

sant does not desire the wealth and station of the nobleman, nor the nobleman the splendor of a throne; but the one may long to become a little farmer, and the other to rise to a dukedom. If the throne be elective, as formerly in Poland, or liable to be upset by ambition, then indeed, the prize being supposed attainable, desire may arise and grow into hope. The more frequently, and the more recently a government has been overthrown, the more chance does there seem of another downfall, and on that account it really is less secure, for the wishes, and hence the projects of the restless are fostered by the probability. A minister is never so violently assailed as when he is supposed to be tottering; and being thought weak, he really is so. The most triumphant minister this country ever saw lived to see his opponents recede in despair. They almost ceased to wish for a fall of which they could see no prospect. The revolution of 1830 aroused the reformers of England, for they saw that reform was within their grasp, and every change, even the most radical, has since been more ardently wished, because it was thought possible. Those foes to innovation are the most far-seeing who resist it from the very first, for every novelty suggests and facilitates another by creating a belief that it may be realised.

We here see the reason of the great stress which the gospel lays upon faith. Without faith or belief there can be no hope, and without hope there is no religion.

As to the degree of belief necessary to keep alive desire, no general rule can be given, so much does it

vary in different individuals. Some require a very strong persuasion to sustain the wish and prompt to action, while others can desire and labour almost against hope. It may be remarked that the greater the natural tendency to desire in general, or to any one kind in particular, the less probability is required, and vice versâ. If a man be of an ardent character, a trifling faith will suffice, but if he be indolent, little short of certainty will do. Very frequently, no doubt, the strong desire creates a firm belief, but not always. When a wish continues for some time, it naturally suggests a train of corresponding thoughts, and leads the mind insensibly to those topics and arguments which favour the ruling emotion. Such is one of the most remarkable and important effects of this class of mental phenomena. They constitute directly by far the greater part of our happiness, and by swaying the intellect, they in fact govern the man. Emotion is the parent of attention, and hence of invention, and of all advancement in real knowledge. Our opinions are for ever exposed to its influence, secret though it be. If we feel strongly on any subject we must attend to it, if we attend we must think, and if we think we shall probably gain ideas be they right or wrong. So, if we wish strongly for any object, we are impelled to meditate upon it, and the wish alternating with thought, constantly tends to give a certain direction to the latter. Thus it is, that desire has so strong a power over our opinions, and inclines us to believe as probable our bright but airy visions. Still this effect is not universal, for persons there are aware of this law of their nature, and therefore on

their guard against it. These are so much afraid of falling into error from the insidious influence of passion, that they run, or at least try to run into the opposite extreme, and doubt because they desire. In this way they may perhaps succeed in keeping the middle course; for if a bough incline too much in one direction, we ought to bend it in the other, more than we would otherwise wish. This line of conduct is evidently the result of reflection, and therefore not likely to be very general. But others there are whose very eagerness seems to abate their faith. They long so ardently after an object, and imagination in consequence so heightens its importance, that its attainment seems too much to be looked for. "It is too good to be true," is no unusual saying, and the sentiment is founded in nature. When we desire very strongly, we also fear that we shall not succeed; in other words, we fear disappointment, and this disappointment we are unwilling to increase by allowing ourselves to believe that we shall be fortunate. Fear of the pain of failure is then the cause of our disbelief or doubt; and the more fear prevails in the character, the more will its consequence be felt. On the same principle, some upon hearing any unhappy rumour instantly believe the worst. They are afraid of nursing desires which may terminate in more bitter anguish. The passion of fear explains these apparent anomalies, which are wholly unaccountable by reference to desire alone.

Desire being intended to lead to action, and hence to gratification, it is easy to see and admire the wisdom of the First Cause which willed that our wishes

should be bounded by our power of attainment. From a few unhappy cases we may judge what would have been the effects of an opposite law, and so find occasion to venerate the goodness of the same great Cause. Now and then we meet with hoary sinners whose powers have decayed long before their longings, and who live like some fallen spirits, mentioned by Dante, tormented with desire without hope. In all large capitals, particularly in Paris, there is also a set of men to be found, who with means very small, and minds badly regulated, are constantly hankering after the endless luxuries and amusements that are strewed around them, but of which they cannot partake. These outward sources of pleasure act as a tempting bait at which they are perpetually nibbling, yet never dare to swallow. The taste, however, is just sufficient to keep alive a desire which can never be fully gratified. Numerous objects of unattainable enjoyment acting upon a diseased state of mind sufficiently account for this phenomenon, which is so well known in Paris, that the phrase to live en rage is commonly used to express it.

In

There is, probably, no part of the character which can so little be modified by education as the greater or less tendency to hopefulness. It is not asserted that education can here do nothing, but nature assuredly does very much more. nothing do we see greater differences between men. Taking the two extremes, there is no one who would not prefer the sanguine to the desponding disposition, but still it may be a question whether we can be too sanguine. Hume in his own life has said that he considered himself more fortunate with such a tendency to hope, than if he