middle condition of moral cultivation usually to be met with in the villages and smaller towns of a highly civilized people, where the moral affections have sweetened the heart, but refinement has not yet sweetened the manners. Let us transport ourselves for a few minutes to Wales, the Highlands of Scotland, or the banks of the Garonne. In any of these regions, we shall be received upon a proper introduction, and often without any introduction whatever, with an honest though a homely welcome; the chief virtues of the heart we shall find to be chastity, sincerity, frugality, and industry; its chief feelings, cheerfulness, content, and good-will: if they know little of the sublimer, they know nothing of the turbulent passions:

Far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn to stray;
Along the cool sequestered vale of life

They keep the noiseless tenor of their way.

At the same time, we shall find an evident distinction of national character; the first of these tribes evincing an enthusiastic fondness for the shadowy traditions, and the antiquated, perhaps the fabulous, heroes of their country, from some of whom every one believes himself to be lineally descended; the second, an ardent attachment to their respective lairds, and the hardy individuals that compose their respective clans; and the third, an elastic and ebullient vivacity, that seems to fit them for happiness in any country, and almost under any circumstances.

If, from these scenes of simple life and ingenuous manners, we pass to the crowded capitals of refinement and luxury, we shall see more perhaps to admire, but certainly more to disrelish and weep over; a strange intermixture of the noblest virtues and the foulest vices; the mind in some instances drawn forth to its utmost stretch of elevation and genius, and in others sunk into infamy and ruin; a courtesy of attention that enters into all our feelings, and anticipates all our wants; delicacy of taste; punctilious honour; sprightly gallantry; splendour and magnificence; wit, mirth, gayety, and pleasure of every kind. Of national character, however, we find little or nothing: like the pebbles in a river, all roughnesses are smoothed away by mutual friction into one common polish. It is easy, indeed, to perceive that every thing tends to an extreme; the jaded taste becomes fastidious, and is perpetually hunting for something new; gallantry degenerates into seduction; fine, trembling honour, into an irritable thirst to avenge trifles; the heart is full of restlessness and fever. In the general pursuit of happiness, contentment is altogether unknown; no one is satisfied with his actual rank and condition, and is perpetually striving to surpass or surplant his neighbour; and striving, too, by all the machinery he can bring into play. Hence, in the more refined ranks, all is flattery, servility, and corruption; in the busy walks of traffic and commerce, all is wild venture, speculation, and hazard; the bosom is distracted with the civil warfare of avarice, ambition, pride, envy, and sullen rancour; the whole surface is at length hollow and showy, and the face becomes no index to the feelings. There is no necessity for dwelling on those open and atrocious villains, that, like vermin on a putrid carcass, such a state of things must indispensably generate and fatten ;-the haggard tribe of anxiety, vexation, and disappointment-the downfall of splendourthe mortification of pride-the failure of friendship-the sting of ingratitude -the violation of sacred trusts-blasted expectations, and disconcerted projects the cup of joy dashed from the lips that are sipping it-hope shipwrecked on the verge of possession-the agony of the mighty adventurer, who for months beforehand sees the tempest of his ruin rolling towards him; sees it, but dares not meet it; sees it, but perhaps cannot avert it-harrowed through every nerve by the gaunt spectres of approaching shame, by the lamentations of his own family, reduced to beggary, and the cutting rebukes of other families, whom a misplaced confidence has involved in one common * See, for a correct description of the amusements, superstitions, and manners of the Scottish peasantry, Burns's Halloween and his Cottar's Saturday Night.

destruction-the demon train of distraction, madness, suicide:-these, and a thousand miseries such as these, that naturally flow from, and are naturally dependent upon, a state of superabundant and diseased refinement, without taking into the account the flagrant and atrocious villanies which fall within the cognizance of the criminal judge, are sufficient to prove, that the nation which has reached the utmost pitch of civil perfection is in danger of degeneracy and decay; and justify the doubt I ventured to suggest, at the opening of the present lecture, as to which of the two extremes of society is pregnant with the greatest share of moral evils-that of gross barbarism, or that of an exuberant and vitiated polish.

LECTURE XI.

ON TEMPERAMENTS, OR CONSTITUTIONAL PROPENSITIES.

THE Social principle—that horror of solitude, and inextinguishable desire of consorting with our own kind, which every man feels in his bosom, and which impels him to prefer misery with fellowship, to ease and indulgence without it-laid the first foundation for cities and states; and the nature of the social compact, peculiarity of climate, and community of habits and manners, unite in producing that general tissue of feelings and propensities, which constitutes, and is denominated, national character; which gives vivacity to the French, a refined taste to theItalians, phlegmatic industry to the Dutch, a free and enterprising spirit to the English, and a military genius to the Germans. But, independently of these national tendencies that run through the general mass of a people, it is impossible for us to open our eyes without perceiving some peculiar propensity, or prominent moral feature, in every individual of every nation whatever; and which, if strictly analyzed, will be found as much to distinguish him from all other individuals as the features of his face. This is sometimes the effect of habit, or of education, which is early and systematic habit, and which every one knows is capable of changing the original bent of the mind, and of introducing a new direction; but it is far more generally an indigenous growth, implanted by the hand of nature herself; or, in other words, dependent on the original organization, admitting of infinite varieties, and produced by the ever-shifting proportions which the mental faculties and the corporeal organs bear to themselves, or to each other, and which it is impossible in every instance to catch hold of and classify.

The Greek physiologists, however, attempted the outlines of a classification; for they began by studying the individual varieties, which they ascribed to the cause just adverted to, and hence denominated them idiosyncrasies, or peculiarities of constitution.

They beheld, as every one must behold in the present day, for nature is ever the same, one man so irascible, that you cannot accidentally tread on his toe, or even touch his elbow, without putting him into a rage; another so full of wit and humour, that he would rather lose his friend than repress his joke; a third, on the contrary, so dull and heavy, that you might as well attempt to move a mile-stone; and possessing, withal, so little imagination, that the delirium of a fever would never raise him to the regions of a brilliant fancy. They beheld one man for ever courting enterprise and danger; another distinguished for comprehensive judgment and sagacity of intellect; one peculiarly addicted to wine, a second to gallantry, and a third to both: one generous to profligacy; another frugal to meanness; and a few, amid the diversified crowd, with a mind so happily attempered and balanced by nature, that education has little to correct, and is almost limited to the act of expanding and strengthening the budding faculties as they show themselves.

The physiologists of Greece, and especially the medical physiologists, did not rest here. They attempted to cluster the different species of idiosyncrasies, or particular constitutions, that had any resemblance to each other, and to arrange them into genera, which were denominated crases (páons) or temperaments. We have the express testimony of Galen,* that Hippocrates was the founder of this system. He conceived the state or condition of the animal frame to be chiefly influenced by the nature and proportion of its radical fluids, at least, far more so than by those of its solids. The radical fluids he supposed to be four, the elementary materials of which were furnished by the stomach, as the common receptacle of the food; but each of which is dependent upon a peculiar organ for its specific production or secretion. Thus, the blood he asserted to be furnished by the heart; the phlegm, lymph, or finer watery fluid, by the head; the yellow bile by the gall-duct; and the black bile by the spleen. The perfection of health, or hygéia, as the Greeks denominated it, he conceived to result from a due proportion of these fluids to each other; and the different temperaments, or predispositions of the body, to peculiar constitutions or idiosyncrasies, from a disturbance of the balance, and a preponderating secretion or influence of any one of them over the rest. Hence Hippocrates established four genera of temperaments, which he denominated from the respective fluids whose superabundance he apprehended to be the cause of them, the BILIOUS OF CHOLERIC, produced by a surplus of yellow bile, and dependent on the action of the gall-duct or liver; the ATRABILIARY OF MELANCHOLIC, produced by a surplus of black bile, and dependent upon the action of the spleen; the SANGUINEOUS, produced by a surplus of blood, and dependent upon the action of the heart; and the PHLEGMATIC, produced by a surplus of phlegm, lymph, or fine watery fluid, dependent upon the action of

the brain.

This arrangement of Hippocrates continued in great favour with physiologists, and with very little variation, till the beginning of the last century, at which time it was warmly supported, in all its bearings, by the quaint but solid learning of Sir John Floyer. And even to the present hour, notwithstanding all the changes that have taken place in the sciences of physiology, anatomy, and medicine, and the detection of some erroneous reasonings and opinions in the writings of Hippocrates upon this subject, intermixed with much that is admirable and excellent,-it has laid a foundation for all the systems of temperaments, constitutions, or natural characters, that have more lately been offered to the world. Most of these, however, have been distinguished by an introduction of five other genera, denominated a WARM, a cOLD, a DRY, a MOIST, and a NERVOUS or irritable temperament: the first four of these five having been added to the list by Boerhaave, but unnecessarily, as they may readily be comprehended, as I shall presently show you, under the four simple temperaments of Hippocrates; while the fifth, in the general opinion of modern physiologists, is requisite to supply what must be admitted to be a chasm in the Greek hypothesis.

I have dwelt the longer upon this subject, because it has an immediate and very extensive bearing upon the popular phraseology of the present day, in all nations; and will give us a clear insight into the meaning of various colloquial terms and idioms, which we are in the constant habit of employing, in many instances, without any definite signification.

The two usual words to express the moral disposition or propensity of a man, and especially as connected with the passions, are TEMPER and HUMOUR. Both are Latin terms: the first, in its original sense, imports mingling, compounding, modifying, or qualifying, and has an obvious reference to the combination of the four radical fluids just mentioned; on the peculiar temper or proportion of which to each other we have just seen that the Greek physiologists supposed the idiosyncrasy or peculiar constitution to depend: and hence TEMPER is, in a certain sense, synonymous with CONSTITUTION itself, though

De Temperament. ii. p. 60. § b.

↑ See his Physician's Pulse-watch; or an Essay to explain the Old Art of Feeling the Pulse, and to im. prove it by the Help of the Pulse-watch. 2 vols. 8vo. Lond. 1707.

somewhat more generally applied to the frame of the mind than of the body.

HUMOUR, in like manner a Latin term, is derived from the Greek xes (chumos), and in its simple and radical sense imports moisture, juice, or fluid of any kind: in which sense we still employ the terms humid and humidity, derived from the same source. In physiology and popular language, HUMOUR is synonymous with TEMPER; and the explanation now offered will sufficiently show us how, from such a derivation, it comes to be employed as significative of mental disposition. Every one must see instantly, that, like the term temper, it has a reference to the general mass of the four radical fluids, which, upon the Greek hypothesis, are essential to the life of man; the peculiar combination of which with each other produces the peculiar HUMOUR or prevailing CURRENT of every individual. It is curious, and in many instances highly entertaining, to trace the transmutations of meaning that a word, from accidental circumstances, is thus frequently compelled to undergo, so as to express, in one age, a very different idea from what it had in a preceding. Even in the present day, however, and in common language, we still occasionally employ the term HUMOUR, and its derivatives, in its original sense; as when we speak of the humour of the blood, meaning thereby a peculiar acrimonious fluid; and still more openly when we speak of the aqueous humour of the eye. Humid and humidity continue steady to the radical idea, for they import fluidity and nothing else. Nay, so strongly have we imbibed the diffusive spirit of the Greek doctrine upon the subject before us, that we not unfrequently carry forward the same idea of fluidity without our being aware of it; as when, for example, we speak of a vein of humour, or a humorous vein, in which case we evidently refer to a fluid circulating in a canal. Thus Prior, in his well-known imitation of Adrian's lines to his soul:

Thy humorous vein, thy pleasing folly,

Lies all neglected, all forgot;

And, pensive, wav'ring, melancholy,

Thou dread'st and hop'st thou know'st not what.

We are not only told, however, in popular language, that every man has his humour, or vein of humour, but that one man is of a choleric humour, or turn of mind, by which we mean that he is naturally irascible, or inclined to anger; that another man has a melancholic turn, by which every one understands that he is naturally gloomy and low-spirited; that a third is of a sanguine disposition, importing that he is naturally prone to high hope and confidence; and that a fourth is of a phlegmatic habit, signifying that he is naturally dull and sluggish.

Now, in thus expressing ourselves, we show that we have imbibed, though often without being aware of it, not merely the language, but the first principles of the Hippocratic school, and employ their own terms as illustrative of their own doctrine. Choler (xo), for example, is Greek for bile; and the bilious temperament of the Greeks was peculiarly characterized by irascibility, or an habitual propensity to anger. So melancholy (μedayxoλía) is literal Greek for black bile; that which, as I have already observed, they supposed to be produced by the spleen; and to the melancholic, or, as the Latins called it, atrabilious or black-bile temperament, they, in like manner, ascribed a prevailing disposition to gloom or depression of spirits. Sanguine is a Latin term, importing blood; and to the sanguineous temperament, or that which, on their hypothesis, indicates a brisk and exuberant flow of blood, they attributed a propensity to ardent expectation, mirth, gayety. Phlegmatic (yparikos), again, is a Greek term, denoting lymph or aqueous fluid; and to the temperament abounding with this cold and spiritless humour, as they conceived it to be, they referred habitual indolence or sloth.

We often hear of the term RULING PASSION: this is rather of modern than of ancient origin. It is frequently, however, employed without any clear meaning, and confounded with temper, humour, or idiosyncrasy. Now, the temper, or idiosyncrasy, may be the result of a combination of passions, in

1

which case all of them cannot take the rule; and hence that only is, properly speaking, the ruling passion, which takes the lead of the rest, and gives to the particular temper or humour a particular variety. Pope has not always paid sufficient attention to this distinction. Roscommon has correctly maintained it in the following couplet:

Examine how your HUMOUR is inclined,

And which the RULING PASSION of your mind.

If this view of the subject be correct, it will follow, that crases or temperaments are the genera or grand divisions under which the moral characters or dispositions of mankind, possessing any considerable degree of resemblance to each other, may be naturally arranged. Tempers, humours, or idiosyncrasies are the species.which compose the different genera and ruling passions, the varieties or singularities of emotion, by which one individual belonging to the same species is distinguished from another.

The species and varieties may be innumerable, and would require a folio volume for their separate analysis and description, rather than a single lecture. Let us, then, confine our attention to the genera, or primary division of moral and physical constitutions into temperaments, and illustrate this part of the preceding classification by a few familiar examples.

All mental propensities or dispositions, then, may be arranged under five separate heads; each of which constitutes a temperament, and is distinguishable by a correspondent effect, produced on the corporeal organs, and the external features and figure. So that the mind and body, for the most part, maintain a mutual harmony, and the powers of the one become, in a general view, a tolerably fair index of those of the other. To these heads, genera, or temperaments I have given the names of sanguineous, bilious or choleric, atrabilious or melancholic, phlegmatic, and nervous. These names and characters, as I have already observed, with the exception of the last, are derived from the Greek physiologists; the principles of animal chemistry on which they are founded are, in many instances, erroneous: but the physiological facts which they are designed to illustrate are, for the most part, incontrovertible, and it is not easy to change the general arrangement for a better.

I. Let us commence with the SANGUINEOUS TEMPERAMENT, or that conceived to depend upon a powerful action or peculiar energy of the system of bloodvessels.

Suppose the heart and arteries, whose harmonious activity produces the circulation of the blood, and throws it over every part of the system, to possess a predominant energy of action, what may we reasonably expect to be the consequence? The pulse must be strong, frequent, and regular; the veins blue, full, and large; the complexion florid; the countenance animated; the stature erect; the figure agreeable, though strongly marked; the flesh firm, with a proportionate secretion of fat; the hair of a yellow, auburn, or chestnut colour; the nervous impressions acute; the perception quick; the memory tenacious; the imagination lively and luxuriant; the disposition passionate, but easily appeased; amorous, and fond of good cheer.

The diseases of this temperament are few but violent, and are chiefly seated in the circulating system; as hemorrhages and inflammatory fevers. It shows itself with peculiar prominence in the season of spring; and especially in the season of youth, which is the spring of life. The best external or corporeal marks of the sanguineous temperament are, perhaps, to be met with in the beautiful statues of Antinous and the Apollo of Belvidere; the best moral character of it in the lives of Alcibiades and Marc Antony, as drawn by the masterly hand of Plutarch; and the most perfect type of this construction which has been offered in modern times, is to be found, in the judgment of M. Richerand, from whom I have copied the chief part of this description, in the person of the celebrated Duke de Richelieu."

If men of this temperament devote themselves to labour of any kind, that

• Nouveau Elémens de Physiologie, &c. tom. ii. sect. ccxxix. p. 445, 8vo. Paris, 1804.