| It is true, when the cause is compleat, and a good disposition is attended with good fortune, which renders it really beneficial to society, it gives a stronger pleasure to the spectator, and is attended with a more lively sympathy. |
| We are more affected by it; and yet we do not say that it is more virtuous, or that we esteem it more. |
| We know, that an alteration of fortune may render the benevolent disposition entirely impotent; and therefore we separate, as much as possible, the fortune from the disposition. |
| The case is the same, as when we correct the different sentiments of virtue, which proceed from its different distances from ourselves. |
| The passions do not always follow our corrections; but these corrections serve sufficiently to regulate our abstract notions, and are alone regarded, when we pronounce in general concerning the degrees of vice and virtue. |
| It is observed by critics, that all words or sentences, which are difficult to the pronunciation, are disagreeable to the ear. |
| There is no difference, whether a man hear them pronounced, or read them silently to himself. |
| When I run over a book with my eye, I Imagine I hear it all; and also, by the force of imagination, enter into the uneasiness, which the delivery of it would give the speaker. |
| The uneasiness is not real; but as such a composition of words has a natural tendency to produce it, this is sufficient to affect the mind with a painful sentiment, and render the discourse harsh and disagreeable. |
| It is a similar case, where any real quality is, by accidental circumstances, rendered impotent, and is deprived of its natural influence on society. |
| Upon these principles we may easily remove any contradiction, which may appear to be betwixt the extensive sympathy, on which our sentiments of virtue depend, and that limited generosity which I have frequently observed to be natural to men, and which justice and property suppose, according to the precedent reasoning. |
| My sympathy with another may give me the sentiment of pain and disapprobation, when any object is presented, that has a tendency to give him uneasiness; though I may not be willing to sacrifice any thing of my own interest, or cross any of my passions, for his satisfaction. |
| A house may displease me by being ill-contrived for the convenience of the owner; and yet I may refuse to give a shilling towards the rebuilding of it. |
| Sentiments must touch the heart, to make them controul our passions: But they need not extend beyond the imagination, to make them influence our taste. |
| When a building seems clumsy and tottering to the eye, it is ugly and disagreeable; though we be fully assured of the solidity of the workmanship. |
| It is a kind of fear, which causes this sentiment of disapprobation; but the passion is not the same with that which we feel, when obliged to stand under a wall, that we really think tottering and insecure. |
| The seeming tendencies of objects affect the mind: And the emotions they excite are of a like species with those, which proceed from the real consequences of objects, but their feeling is different. |
| Nay, these emotions are so different in their feeling, that they may often be contrary, without destroying each other; as when the fortifications of a city belonging to an enemy are esteemed beautiful upon account of their strength, though we coued wish that they were entirely destroyed. |
| The imagination adheres to the general views of things, and distinguishes the feelings they produce, from those which arise from our particular and momentary situation. |
| If we examine the panegyrics that are commonly made of great men, we shall find, that most of the qualities, which are attributed to them, may be divided into two kinds, viz. |
| such as make them perform their part in society; and such as render them serviceable to themselves, and enable them to promote their own interest. |