account. Neither of us can reasonably be much interested about them. They ought all of them to be matters of great indifference to us both; fo that, though our opinions may be oppofite, our affections may ftill be very nearly the fame. But it is quite otherwise with regard to thofe objects by which either you or I are particularly affected. Though your judgments in matters of speculation, though your fentiments in matters of tafte, are quite oppofite to mine, I can easily overlook this oppofition; and if I have any degree of temper, I may ftill find some entertainment in your conversation, even upon thofe very fubjects. But if you have either no fellow-feeling for the misfortunes I have met with, or none that bears any proportion to the grief which diftracts me; or if you have either no indignation at the injuries I have fuffered, or none that bears any proportion to the refentment which transports me, we can no longer converse upon these fubjects. We become intolerable to one another. I can neither fupport your company, nor you mine. You are confounded at my violence and paffion, and I am enraged at your cold infenfibility and want of feeling.

In all fuch cafes, that there may be fome correfpondence of fentiments between the fpectator and the perfon principally concerned, the fpectator muft, first of all, endeavour, as much as he can, to put himself in the situation of the other, and to bring home to himself every little circumftance of diftress which can poffibly occur to the fufferer. He muft adopt the whole cafe of his

companion with all its minuteft incidents; and ftrive to render as perfect as poffible, that imaginary change of fituation upon which his fympathy is founded.

After all this, however, the emotions of the spectator will still be very apt to fall short of the violence of what is felt by the fufferer. Mankind, though naturally fympathetic, never conceive, for what has befallen another, that degree of paffion which naturally animates the person principally concerned. That imaginary change of fituation, upon which their sympathy is founded, is but momentary. The thought of their own safety, the thought that they themselves are not really the fufferers, continually intrudes itself upon them; and though it does not hinder them from conceiving a passion fomewhat analogous to what is felt by the sufferer, hinders them from conceiving any thing that approaches to the fame degree of violence. The perfon principally concerned is fenfible of this, and at the fame time paffionately defires a more complete fympathy. He longs for that relief which nothing can afford him but the entire concord of the affections of the fpectators with his own. To fee the emotions of their hearts, in every respect, beat time to his own, in the violent and difagreeable paffions, conftitutes his fole confolation. But he can only hope to obtain this by lowering his paffion to that pitch, in which the spectators are capable of going along with him. He must flatten, if I may be allowed to fay fo, the sharpness of its natural tone, in order to reduce

it to harmony and concord with the emotions of those who are about him. What they feel, will, indeed, always be, in fome refpects, different from what he feels, and compaffion can never be exactly the fame with original forrow; because the fecret confciousness that the change of fituations, from which the sympathetic fentiment arifes, is but imaginary, not only lowers it in degree, but, in some measure, varies it in kind, and gives it a quite different modification. These two sentiments, however, may, it is evident, have fuch a correfpondence with one another, as is fufficient for the harmony of fociety. of fociety. Though they will never be uniféns, they may be concords, and this is all that is wanted or required.

In order to produce this concord, as nature teaches the spectators to affume the circumftances of the perfon principally concerned, so she teaches this laft in fome measure to affume those of the fpectators. As they are continually placing themfelves in his fituation, and thence conceiving emotions fimilar to what he feels; fo he is as constantly placing himself in theirs, and thence conceiving fome degree of that coolness about his own fortune, with which he is fenfible that they will view it. As they are conftantly confidering what they themfelves would feel, if they actually were the fufferers, so he is as conftantly led to imagine in what manner he would be affected if he was only one of the fpectators of his own fituation. As their fympathy makes them look at it, in some measure, with his eyes, fo his fympathy makes him look at it, in some measure, with theirs, especially when

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in their prefence and acting under their obfervation and as the reflected paffion, which he thus conceives, is much weaker than the original one, it neceffarily abates the violence of what he felt before he came into their prefence, before he began to recollect in what manner they would be affected by it, and to view his fituation in this candid and impartial light.

The mind, therefore, is rarely fo disturbed, but that the company of a friend will restore it to fome degree of tranquillity and fedateness. The breast is, in some measure, calmed and composed the moment we come into his prefence. We are immediately put in mind of the light in which he will view our fituation, and we begin to view it ourselves in the same light; for the effect of sym-' pathy is inftantaneous. We expect lefs fy.npathy from a common acquaintance than from a friend: we cannot open to the former all thofe little circumftances which we can unfold to the latter: we affume, therefore, more tranquillity before him, and endeavour to fix our thoughts upon thofe general outlines of our fituation which he is willing to confider. We expect ftill less fympathy from an assembly of strangers, and we affume, therefore, ftill more tranquillity before them, and always endeavour to bring down our paffion to that pitch, which the particular company we are in may be expected to go along with. Nor is this only an affumed appearance: for if we are at all masters of ourselves, the presence of a mere acquaintance will really compofe us, ftill more than that of a

friend; and that of an affembly of ftrangers ftill more than that of an acquaintance.

Society and conversation, therefore, are the most powerful remedies for reftoring the mind to its tranquillity, if, at any time, it has unfortunately loft it; as well as the best preservatives of that equal and happy temper, which is fo necessary to selffatisfaction and enjoyment. Men of retirement and fpeculation, who are apt to fit brooding at home over either grief or refentment, though they may often have more humanity, more generofity, and a nicer sense of honor, yet feldom poffefs that equality of temper which is fo common among men of the world.

CHAP. V.

Of the amiable and refpectable virtues, UPON these two different efforts, upon that of the spectator to enter into the fentiments of the perfon principally concerned, and upon that of the perfon principally concerned, to bring down his emotions to what the fpectator can go along with, are founded two different fets of virtues. The foft, the gentle, the amiable virtues, the virtues of candid condefcenfion and indulgent humanity, are founded upon the one: the great, the awful and respectable, the virtues of self-denial, of self-government, of that command of the paffions which fubjects all the movements of our nature to what our own dignity and honor, and the propriety of