in the world, we must examine it by the following rules:

First, whether it acts with steadiness and uniformity in sickness
and in health, in prosperity and in adversity; if otherwise, it is
to be looked upon as nothing else but an irradiation of the mind
from some new supply of spirits, or a more kindly circulation of the
blood. Sir Francis Bacon mentions a cunning solicitor, who would
never ask a favour of a great man before dinner; but took care to
prefer his petition at a time when the party petitioned had his mind
free from care, and his appetites in good humour. Such a transient
temporary good-nature as this, is not that philanthropy, that love
of mankind, which deserves the title of a moral virtue.

The next way of a man's bringing his good-nature to the test is to
consider whether it operates according to the rules of reason and
duty: for if, notwithstanding its general benevolence to mankind,
it makes no distinction between its objects; if it exerts itself
promiscuously towards the deserving and the undeserving; if it
relieves alike the idle and the indigent; if it gives itself up to
the first petitioner, and lights upon any one rather by accident
than choice--it may pass for an amiable instinct, but must not
assume the name of a moral virtue.

The third trial of good-nature will be the examining ourselves
whether or no we are able to exert it to our own disadvantage, and
employ it on proper objects, notwithstanding any little pain, want,
or inconvenience, which may arise to ourselves from it: in a word,
whether we are willing to risk any part of our fortune, our
reputation, our health or ease, for the benefit of mankind. Among
all these expressions of good nature, I shall single out that which