I think I can explain this fact. The self-esteem of every individual has a natural rival in that of every other. Hence the invidiousness of self-commendation. Every one knows, by constant experience, what a rare combination of circumstances must take place, and with what a delicate hand those circumstances must be managed, in order to make self-commendation endurable. As words are not the only signs of what passes in the mind, the habitual sense of personal worth and respectability is universally perceived through the whole manner of the person who has it. This perception is quickened by the self-esteem of the observer; and, as the self-esteem of each person may be said to occupy a certain space, it invariably limits that to which others would gladly extend their own. Though this language is, of course, figurative, every one, who has attentively observed mankind will grant that there are individuals who have a most real though inexplicable power of making others shrink into very limited dimensions. Those who possess that power must naturally become objects of a very general dislike. Besides, it seldom happens that two men, being placed in constant juxta-position, do not, in a certain degree, crowd each other. Sometimes they find themselves obliged to part company; but more frequently they mould, shape, and pack the two self-esteems, like travellers in a narrow carriage. But in this process, as well as in that of the illustration, the allotment of space is never equal; and the weak and sensitive will always be compelled to shrink more and more, and fret, secretly, at the bulky and unyielding dimensions of his neighbour.

It is, therefore, evident that every self-esteem is a claim, and sometimes a power, over all others; and

claims (of powers we need not speak) however just, especially if they are incessant, are seldom or never acknowledged without a certain degree of displeasure. Add to this natural feeling, which good men subdue, one which, as (in a variable degree) it is perfectly just, no man should endeavour to destroy in himself, or he would lower his character to that of a slave. I speak of a proper watchfulness against the encroachments, the inordinate claims, of other men's self-esteem. There must consequently exist an almost general uneasiness on this subject. Great love, and pure friendship, will certainly remove this state of watchfulness and constant suspicion. But those two blessings are rare. Society proceeds, however, pretty smoothly by the practical good sense which teaches its more refined members (though these are the class whose self-esteem is most sensitive) how to avoid clashing with each other. In fact, fashionable refinement may be defined, the art of condensing our self-esteem within ourselves, and shewing it just enough to have it understood that we will not give much more room for the self-esteem of others.

And here we have the answer to the question why pride, in its unfavourable sense, has an established verbal sign in all languages, while they want a proper name for the virtuous feeling of which pride is an excess. In the daily difficulty of social life above described, in this perpetual jealousy, this unavoidable rivalry, every one stands continually in the character of judge and party. Partiality, in judging other men's self-esteem is, therefore, almost unavoidable; consequently we are very seldom in want of the name of the virtue, except to apply it to ourselves, and then we scarcely dare use it. The word therefore which originally, in all languages, had probably a favourable

signification, becomes inevitably, in the course of time, a name for the excess which every man finds in all others.*

It must now be evident that all I have said of pride must apply to that word when combined with the word reason. As that phrase is invariably used to convey reproach, we may proceed in our examination, by substituting for the word pride Dr. Johnson's first definition; with such changes only, as grammar absolutely requires in the combination. Pride of REASON will, therefore, be an immoderate esteem of one's own reason. A man who values his own reason immoderately, or beyond the proper measure, is guilty of pride of reason. Our next step in the inquiry must be to find the proper measure beyond which we ought not to esteem our reason. Here the analogy of the first definition may guide us. We may justly be charged with excess of self-esteem when we invade the proper self-esteem of others. In the same manner, a man is to be blamed for PRIDE OF REASON, when the value he sets upon his own share of that gift induces him to invade the share of another man. This is an inordinate esteem of reason, as he possesses it individually.

I do not see what valid objection can be made to this statement. I am aware that the phrase, pride of reason, is not unfrequently employed to express something like a rebellion of reason against God, the supreme Fountain of Reason. But the idea is too absurd to deserve a moment's attention. Any one who could oppose his own reason to the infinite Source of mind and intelligence, would be a madman. Such an intention has never

The Germans still preserve the word stolz, in a favourable sense; though it is frequently used for Uebermuth, shewing the general tendency. See Krugs Lexikon, under Hochmuth.

crossed the mind of any man in his senses. Every man knows more or less, as it were, instinctively, that, when he speaks of his own reason, he wishes to express nothing but his perception of one and the same universal reason, peculiar to no individual, but supreme over all. This is God*. The source of the notion which supposes this resistance of the human reason to God, lies in the gross mistake of imagining that any revelation from God can exist for a rational being like man, except through that partial perception of the supreme reason which individuals enjoy in various degrees. This is what we call our reason. Among that class of Christians who accuse others of deliberately opposing their own reason to the revelations of God, there cannot be one who has ever considered that, when he himself receives anything as revealed in Scripture, he is only following the dictates of his reason. He may believe * Fénelon, Existence de Dieu, prem. part, chap. iv. de la Raison de l'Homme:

"A la verité, ma raison est en moi; car il faut que je rentre sans cesse en moi-même pour la trouver: mais la raison supérieure qui me corrige dans le besoin, et que je consulte, c'est point à moi, et elle ne fait point partie de moi-même.... Ainsi, ce qui parait le plus à nous et être le fond de nous-même, je veux dire notre raison, est ce qui nous est le moins propre et qu'on doit croire le plus emprunté. Nous recevons sans cesse et à tout moment une raison supérieure à nous, comme nous respirions sans cesse l'air qui est un corps étranger, ou comme nous voyons sans cesse tous les objects voisins de nous à la lumière du soleil, dont les rayons sont des corps étrangers a nos yeux.t... Il y a une école intérieure ou l'homme reçoit ce qu'il ne peut ni se donner ni attendre des autres hommes qui vivent d'emprunt comme lui... Où est-elle cette raison parfaite qui est si près de moi et si différente de moi? . . . . Où est-elle cette raison suprême ? N'est elle pas le Dieu que je cherche ?”—Quoted by Cousin, ubi sup. p. 479, note. Independently of controversy, I am persuaded that λóyos, in the first chapter of St. John's Gospel, is the Supreme Reason personified by a figure of speech.

† See note to this page, at the end.

(as is not unfrequently the case) the greatest absurdities; he may embrace what, upon any other subject, he would reject as a palpable contradiction: nevertheless, he does all this because he finds some more general reason for sacrificing his reason on these particulars. He grounds that more general reason on God, the eternal source of reason; and he does well. But he should, at the same time, perceive that he is not sacrificing his own reason to God,—a sacrifice which to the supreme reason would be abominable,—but an inferior and partial judgment of his own reason for the sake of another which appears to him more sound and comprehensive. Exactly the same is the case of every sincere man who rejects what others embrace as God's word. He does not deny that word; he only denies either the testimony or the judgment of other men. It cannot, indeed, be conceived, that any man in his sound mind, believing that any, even the most incomprehensible mystery, has been actually communicated by God to man, nevertheless refuses to acknowledge it, accusing God either of error or falsehood. This is impossible. To believe in God, and at the same time to make his reason inferior to human reason, is a contradiction which cannot lay hold on our mind. Human reason has never opposed the divine and supreme reason, knowing that it did so: it is only the human will, that, in spite of reason, has the power, and, indeed, a very decided propensity, to oppose the will of God. No man who understands what he says, will talk of reason's rebellion against God.—But let us return to our subject.

Having found that pride of reason is an aggression upon other men's reason, arising from an over-estimate of the worth of the aggressor's own, we may now proceed in