tive nature; and that it does not, and cannot act, independently of the antecedent action, to a greater or less extent, of the intellect. In other words, the nature of conscience is such as to require, as the basis of its action, a knowledge of the thing and its relations, upon which it is about to pronounce its opinion; which knowledge can be acquired only by the perceptive and comparing acts of the intellect. But such is the rapidity of instinctive action, that it entirely excludes a suitable knowledge of the event, which calls it forth; and as it in this way excludes the cognizance and authority of conscience, it cannot be said to have a moral character, either good or evil.

§. 156. Of voluntary in distinction from instinctive resentment.

The second, and in a practical and moral point of view, the more important form of this affection is what may be denominated Voluntary Resentment. By inquiring into the cause of the resentment, which we have instinctively experienced, and by suggesting reasons either for its increase or diminution, we are enabled to modify its action, and to impart to it the character of voluntariness and accountability.

The proper occasion of deliberate or Voluntary, in distinction from instinctive Resentment, is INJURY, as it stands distinguished from mere harm or hurt. That is to say, Voluntary resentment, when exercised in accordance with the intentions of nature, takes into view not only the harm or suffering which has been occasioned, but the motive or intention of the agent. The final cause or object of instinctive resentment is immediate protection; nor does it appear to have any thing further in view. The final cause of voluntary resentment is not only protection but justice. In other words, while it aims to secure protection, it does not propose the attainment of that object, except in conformity with what is strictly proper and right. It always, therefore, in its appropriate and legitimate exercise, dispenses its retribution, not simply with a reference to the harm, loss, or suffering which has been endured, but chiefly with reference to the feelings, which at the time existed in the mind of the agent or cause of the suffering.

A moral character, accordingly, attaches only to the vol

untary form of resentment. If there is an exact proportion between the resentment and its cause, in other words if the resentment precisely corresponds to what justice requires, it is right. But if it exceeds this just proportion, it is wrong. This statement is made on the supposition, that we are considering the subject by the mere aid of the light of nature, exclusively of the Scriptures. If, under the Christian dispensation, we are required for high and holy reasons peculiar to that dispensation, to subdue resentful feelings, which otherwise might have been justly exercised, that circumstance evidently places the subject in a different light.

§. 157. Tendency of anger to excess, and the natural checks to it.

Few principles are more operative in man, in point of fact, than that of resentment. And, although, reasoning on the principles of nature merely, without taking into view the duty of forgiveness inculcated in the Scriptures, we may justify its deliberate and voluntary exercise in many cases, it must be admitted on the whole, that it is particularly liable to a perverted and excessive action. It is too frequently the fact, that man is found wreaking his anger on those, who, on a full and candid examination of all the circumstances of the case, would be found entitled to no such treatment.

One cause of the frequency of excessive and unjustifiable resentment is to be found in the fact, that in consequence of the suffering or loss we endure, our thoughts are wholly taken up with our own situation, and we find it very difficult to estimate properly either the facts or the motives of our supposed adversary's conduct. If we could turn away our thoughts from ourselves, so far as fully to understand all the circumstances of a proceeding, which in itself considered we have found so injurious to us, we should frequently be willing to check the vehemence of our anger, if we did not wholly extinguish it.

Nature, however, has herself instituted some checks on the undue exercise of this passion.-FIRST. The exercise of this passion is, in its very nature, painful. It is in this respect very different from the exercise of the benevolent af fections, which is pleasant. So great is the pain attendant upon deliberate and protracted anger, that it is not uncom

mon to hear persons assert, they have themselves endured more suffering in their own minds, than the gratification of their passions has caused to their opponents. Nature seems

to have attached this penalty to the exercise of this passion, in order to remind men, at the most appropriate moment, of the necessity of keeping it in due subjection.

SECOND. Whenever our resentment passes the proper bounds, the feelings of the community, which were before in our favor, immediately turn against us. We are so constituted, that we naturally desire the good opinion of others; and consequently the loss of their good opinion operates upon us as a punishment, and not unfrequently a severe one. Under the influence of the experience or the anticipation of this incidental retribution, it is not unfrequently the case, that men restrict within proper bounds those angry feelings, which under other circumstances they would probably have indulged to excess.

THIRD. The tendency of the indulgence of anger, is to lower a man in his own estimation; and still more so in the estimation of others, who will be less ready to admit those mitigating circumstances, that partially justify his feelings to himself. The mere outward signs of the angry passions give a shock to our sensibilities, and are hateful to us; while those of an opposite character beam upon the soul with the pleasantness of a tranquil morning's light. The smile of benevolence wins upon our affections; but the scowl of anger, whether it be directed against ourselves or others, fills us with pain and dread. And, moreover, while the indulgence of anger tends, as a general thing, to degrade the subject of it in our view; we look with increased respect and honor on those, who successfully resist its approaches, and are calm and forbearing amid insult and injury.

§. 158. Other reasons for checking and subduing the angry passions.

In addition to those checks to the angry passions, which ature herself seems to have furnished, it may be proper to mention a few considerations, drawn from reason and the Scriptures, which, if they have the weight they are entitled , will tend to the same desirable result.—(1) We should always keep in recollection, in the first place, that, when the

mind is much agitated by passion, it is rendered by that cir cumstance itself incapable, to a considerable degree, of correct judgment. Actions, considered as the indications of feeling and character, do not at such times appear to us in their true light. They are seen through an unfavorable medium; and represented unnaturally, with distorted and discolored features. It is said to have been a saying of Socra tes to his servant on a certain occasion, that he would beat him if he were not angry; a remark, which seems to indicate, that, in the opinion of the author of it, anger is a state of mind unfavorable to a correct judgment of the merit or demerit of the person, towards whom it is directed.

(2) We should consider, in the second place, even if we have no particular reason to distrust our powers of judging, that we may, by possibility at least, have mistaken the motives of the person, whom we imagine to have injured us. Perhaps the oversight or crime, which we alledge against him, instead of being premeditated or intentional, was mere inadvertence. It is even possible, that his intentions were favorable to us, instead of being, as we suppose, of a contrary character. And if it were otherwise, if the wrong done us were an intentional wrong, it is still possible, that this hostile disposition may have originated from serious miscon ceptions in regard to our own character and conduct. And obviously the easiest and best way would be to correct these misconceptions, and thus to secure safety for the future, and in all probability recompense for the past.

(3) There is another consideration, which ought to prevent the indulgence of this passion, and to allay its effects. It is, that all have offended against the Supreme Being, and stand in need of pardon from Him. If we ourselves were without sin, if we could boast of perfect purity of character. there might seem to be some degree of reaso..ableness in our exacting from others the full amount of what is due to per fect and inflexible rectitude. But the actual state of things is far different from this. Every one, who knows his own heart, must see and feel himself to be a transgressor. How unsuitably, therefore, to the circumstances of his own situa tion does that man conduct, who talks largely of satisfaction and revenge, when he is every moment dependent on the

clemency and forgiveness of a Being, whom he has himself so often sinned against.

In the fourth place, there are many passages of Scripture, which expressly require us to subdue the malevolent passions, and to forgive the injuries, which have called them into action. And this, we may here take occasion to remark, is one of the great and striking characteristics of the Gospel revelation. The doctrine, that we are to love and do good to our enemies, obviously distinguishes the Christian Code from every other; and gives to it, as compared with mere human systems, an inexpressible elevation. Its language is; "Ye have heard, it hath been said, thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, love your enemies; bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you."

§. 159. Modifications of resentment. Peevishness.

When in all ordinary cases the resentful feeling shows itself, we variously denominate it by the terms resentment, hostility, anger, hatred, indignation, and the like; but there are some modifications of the feeling, distinguished either by excess or diminution or in some other way, which may be regarded as possessing a distinctive character. One of these is PEEVISHNESS OF FRETFULNESS; a species of malevolent passion, which, probably with more frequency than its decided manifestations, interrupts the peace and happiness of life.

Peevishness differs from ordinary anger in being excited by very trifling circumstances, and in a strange facility of inflicting its effects on every body, and every thing within its reach. The peevish man has met with some trifling disappointment, (it matters but little what it is,) and the serenity of whole days is disturbed; no smiles are to be seen; every thing, whether animate or inanimate, rational or irrational, is out of place, and falls under the rebuke of this fretful being.Anger, in its more marked and decided manifestations, may be compared to a thunder shower, that comes dark and heavily, but leaves a clear sky afterwards. But peevishness is like an obscure, drizzling fog; it is less violent, and lasts longer. In general, it is more unreasonable