world so full of care, and toil, and sorrow, as the present is, and must be, to the multitude of its inhabitants, there are few so miserable as not to regard continued existence as a boon to be purchased at any price.

An original Principle. - Among the various principles that enter into the composition of our nature, and are the motive powers of the human mind, awakening and calling forth its energies, and impelling it to action, the desire of knowledge holds an important place. From its early mani festation, before reason and reflection have as yet, to any extent, come into play, and from its general, if not universal existence, we infer that it is one of those principles originally implanted in our nature by the great Author of our being.

Not Curiosity. The desire of knowledge, though often spoken of as synonymous with curiosity, is not altogether identical with it. Curiosity has reference rather to the novelty and strangeness of that which comes before the mind. It is the feeling awakened by these qualities, rather than the general desire to know what is yet unknown. It is of more limited application, and while it implies a desire to understand the object in view of which it is awakened, implies also some degree of wonder, at the unusual and unexpected character of the object as thus presented. While, then, curiosity is certainly a most powerful auxiliary to the desire of learning, and stimulates the mind to exertions it might not otherwise put forth, it is hardly to be viewed as identical with the principle under consideration.

Manifested in early Life. - The desire of knowledge is never, perhaps, more strongly developed than in early life, and never partakes more fully of the character of curiosity than then. To the child, all things are new and strange He looks about him upon a world as unknown to him as he

is to it, and every different object that meets his eye is a new study, and a new mystery to him. The desire to ac quaint himself with the new and unknown world around him, keeps him constantly employed, constantly learning.

In later Years. As he grows up, and the sphere of his intellectual vision enlarges, every step of his progress only opens new and wider fields to be explored, beyond the limits of his previous investigations. If there is less of childish curiosity, there is more of earnest, manly, irrepressible desire and determination to know. His studies assume this or that direction, according to native taste and temperament, carly associations, or the force of circumstances; he becomes a student of science, or a student of letters, or of art, or of the practical professions and pursuits of life; but turn in what direction and to what pursuits he will, the desire to know still lives within him, as a sacred lamp ever burning before the shrine of truth.

Explains the Love of Narrative. - Every one has remarked the eagerness with which children listen to stories, histories, and fables. This is owing not more to the love of the ideal, which is usually very strongly developed in early life, than to the desire of knowing what presents itself to the mind as something new and unknown, yet with the semblance of reality. Nor does this love of narrative forsake us as we grow older. We have still our romances, our histories, our poems, epic and tragic, to divert us amid the graver cares of life; and the old man is, perhaps, as impatient as the child, to go on with the story, and comprehend the plot, when once his interest and curiosity are awakened.

A benevolent Provision. - We cannot but regard it as a benevolent provision of the Creator, so to constitute the human mind, that not only knowledge itself, but the very process of its acquisition, should be a pleasure. And when we consider how great is the importance to man of this desire of knowledge, and how great is the progress of even the humblest mind, from the dawn of its intelligence, on to the period

of its full maturity and strength; how, under the influence of this desire, the mind of a Newton, a Kepler, a Bacon, a Descartes, a Leibnitz, moves on, from the slow and feeble acquisitions of the nursery, to the great and sublime discoveries that are to shed a light and glory, not only on the name of the discoverer, but on the path of all who come after him, we can hardly attach too high an importance to this part of our mental constitution.

A rational, though an instinctive Principle. - The desire of knowledge, like many of the active principles which have already fallen under our notice, is capable of rational exercise and control, while, at the same time, an implanted and instinctive principle. It operates, at first, rather as a blind impulse, impelling the mind to a given end; when reason assumes her sway of the mind and its restless energies, what was before a mere impulse and instinct of nature, now be comes a deliberate and rational purpose.

Moral Character. As to moral character, it mɩy, or may not, pertain to the exercise of the principle under consideration. The desire of knowledge is not of necessity a virtuous affection of the mind. Characteristic as it is of a noble and superior nature, more elevated and excellent, as it certainly is, than the merely animal desires and impulses, it is not inseparably connected with moral excellence.

As rationally exercised, it is laudable and virtuous, provided we seek knowledge with proper motives, and for right ends; otherwise, the reverse. Inasmuch, however, as we are under obligation to act in this, as in all other matters, from pure motives, and for right ends, the mere absence of such a motive, the desire and pursuit of knowledge in any other manner, and from other motives, becomes blame worthy.

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§ III.DESIRE OF POWER

A native Principle.—The desire of power must be regarded as an original principle of our nature. Like the desire of happiness, and of knowledge, it is both early in its development, and powerful in its influence over the mind. It is also universally manifest.

In what Manner awakened. Of the idea of power or cause, and of the manner in which the mind comes, in the first instance, to form that idea, I have already spoken, un der the head of original conception. We see changes taking place in the external world. We observe these changes immediately and invariably preceded by certain antecedents. The idea of cause is thus suggested to the mind, and cause implies power of one thing over another to produce given effects. We find, also, our own volitions attended with corresponding effects upon objects external, and thus learn, still further, that we ourselves possess power over other objects. The idea thus awakened in the mind, there springs up, also, in connection with the idea, an activity of the sensibilities. The power which we find ourselves to have over objects about us affords us pleasure; what we enjoy we love, and what we love we desire; and so there is awakened in the mind a strong and growing desire for the possession of power.

Pleasure of exerting Power. - The pleasure which we derive from producing, in any instance, a manifest effect, and from the consciousness that we have in ourselves the power to produce like effects whenever we will, is one of the highest sources of enjoyment of which nature has made us capable. It is, to a great extent, the spring and secret of the constant activity of which the world is full. It shows itself in the sports of childhood, and in the graver pursuits of maturer years. The infant, when it finds that it can move and control its own little limbs, the boy learning the art of such athletic sports as he perceives his fellows practise, the

man when he finds that he can control the action of his fellow-man, and bend the will of others to his own, are each, and perhaps equally, delighted at the acquisition of this new power; and the pleasure is generally in proportion to the novelty of the acquisition, and the apparent greatness of the effect produced.

Strength and Influence of this Principle.-The love of power is one of the strongest of the ruling principles of the human mind. It has its seat in the deepest foundations of our nature. I can do something; I can do what others do I can do more than they; such is the natural order and progression of our endeavors, and such also the measure and increase of our delight. What, but the love of power, leads to those competitions of strength with strength, which mark the athletic games and contests of all nations, civilized and savage? What, but the love of power, impels the hunter over the pathless mountains, and deserts, in quest of those savage denizens and lords of nature, whose strength is so far superior to his own? What, but the love of power, leads the warrior forth, at the head of conquering armies, to devastate and subdue new realms?

Seen also in other Pursuits. And in the peaceful pursuits of life, how largely does the same impulse mingle with the other, and perhaps more apparent, motives of human action? The man of science, as he watches the nightly courses of the stars, or resolves the stubborn compounds of nature into their simple and subtle elements, as he discovers new laws, and unlocks the secrets that have long baffled human inquiry, derives no small part of his gratification from the con sciousness of that power which he thus exercises over the realm of matter subjected to his will. And when, in like manner, the orator, on whose words depend the lives of men, and the fate of nations, stands forth to accuse or defend, to arouse the slumbering passions, and inflame the patriotism, the courage, the resentment of his audience, or to soothe their anger, allay their prejudice, awaken their pity or their