| For to instance only in the cases of extension and number; it is evident, that any very bulky object, such as the ocean, an extended plain, a vast chain of mountains, a wide forest: or any very numerous collection of objects, such as an army, a fleet, a crowd, excite in the mind a sensible emotion; and that the admiration, which arises on the appearance of such objects, is one of the most lively pleasures, which human nature is capable of enjoying. |
| Now as this admiration encreases or diminishes by the encrease or diminution of the objects, we may conclude, according to our foregoing [Book I. Part III. SECT. 15.] principles, that it is a compound effect, proceeding from the conjunction of the several effects, which arise from each part of the cause. |
| Every part, then, of extension, and every unite of number has a separate emotion attending it; and though that emotion be not always agreeable, yet by its conjunction with others, and by its agitating the spirits to a just pitch, it contributes to the production of admiration, which is always agreeable. |
| If this be allowed with respect to extension and number, we can make no difficulty with respect to virtue and vice, wit and folly, riches and poverty, happiness and misery, and other objects of that kind, which are always attended with an evident emotion. |
| The second principle I shall take notice of is that of our adherence to general rules; which has such a mighty influence on the actions and understanding, and is able to impose on the very senses. |
| When an object is found by-experience to be always accompanyed with another; whenever the first object appears, though changed in very material circumstances; we naturally fly to the conception of the second, and form an idea of it in as lively and strong a manner, as if we had infered its existence by the justest and most authentic conclusion of our understanding. |
| Nothing can undeceive us, not even our senses, which, instead of correcting this false judgment, are often perverted by it, and seem to authorize its errors. |
| The conclusion I draw from these two principles, joined to the influence of comparison above-mentioned, is very short and decisive. |
| Every object is attended with some emotion proportioned to it; a great object with a great emotion, a small object with a small emotion. |
| A great object, therefore, succeeding a small one makes a great emotion succeed a small one. |
| Now a great emotion succeeding a small one becomes still greater, and rises beyond its ordinary proportion. |
| But as there is a certain degree of an emotion, which commonly attends every magnitude of a-n object; when the emotion encreases, we naturally imagine that the object has likewise encreased. |
| The effect conveys our view to its usual cause, a certain degree of emotion to a certain magnitude of the object; nor do we consider, that comparison may change the emotion without changing anything in the object. |
| Those who are acquainted with the metaphysical part of optics and know how we transfer the judgments and conclusions of the understanding to the senses, will easily conceive this whole operation. |
| But leaving this new discovery of an impression, that secretly attends every idea; we must at least allow of that principle, from whence the discovery arose, that objects appear greater or less by a comparison with others. |
| We have so many instances of this, that it is impossible we can dispute its veracity; and it is from this principle I derive the passions of malice and envy. |
| It is evident we must receive a greater or less satisfaction or uneasiness from reflecting on our own condition and circumstances, in proportion as they appear more or less fortunate or unhappy, in proportion to the degrees of riches, and power, and merit, and reputation, which we think ourselves possest of. |
| Now as we seldom judge of objects from their intrinsic value, but form our notions of them from a comparison with other objects; it follows, that according as we observe a greater or less share of happiness or misery in others, we must make an estimate of our own, and feel a consequent pain or pleasure. |
| The misery of another gives us a more lively idea of our happiness, and his happiness of our misery. |
| The former, therefore, produces delight; and the latter uneasiness. |
| Here then is a kind of pity reverst, or contrary sensations arising in the beholder, from those which are felt by the person, whom he considers. |