| 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. |
| In general we may observe, that in all kinds of comparison an object makes us always receive from another, to which it is compared, a sensation contrary to what arises from itself in its direct and immediate survey. |
| A small object makes a great one appear still greater. |
| A great object makes a little one appear less. |
| Deformity of itself produces uneasiness; but makes us receive new pleasure by its contrast with a beautiful object, whose beauty is augmented by it; as on the other hand, beauty, which of itself produces pleasure, makes us receive a new pain by the contrast with any thing ugiy, whose deformity it augments. |
| The case, therefore, must be the same with happiness and misery. |
| The direct survey of another's pleasure naturally gives us plcasure, and therefore produces pain when cornpared with our own. |
| His pain, considered in itself, is painful to us, but augments the idea of our own happiness, and gives us pleasure. |
| Nor will it appear strange, that we may feel a reverst sensation from the happiness and misery of others; since we find the same comparison may give us a kind of malice against ourselves, and make us rejoice for our pains, and grieve for our pleasures. |
| Thus the prospect of past pain is agreeable, when we are satisfyed with our present condition; as on the other hand our past pleasures give us uneasiness, when we enjoy nothing at present equal to them. |
| The comparison being the same, as when we reflect on the sentiments of others, must be attended with the same effects. |
| Nay a person may extend this malice against himself, even to his present fortune, and carry it so far as designedly to seek affliction, and encrease his pains and sorrows. |
| This may happen upon two occasions. |
| First, Upon the distress and misfortune of a friend, or person dear to him. |
| Secondly, Upon the feeling any remorses for a crime, of which he has been guilty. |
| It is from the principle of comparison that both these irregular appetites for evil arise. |
| A person, who indulges himself in any pleasure, while his friend lies under affliction, feels the reflected uneasiness from his friend more sensibly by a comparison with the original pleasure, which he himself enjoys. |
| This contrast, indeed, ought also to inliven the present pleasure. |
| But as grief is here supposed to be the predominant passion, every addition falls to that side, and is swallowed up in it, without operating in the least upon the contrary affection. |