CHAPTER II.

Of the sense of Justice, of Remorse, and of the consciousness of Merit.

THERE can be no proper motive for hurting our neighbour, there can be no incitement to do evil to another which mankind will go along with, except just indignation for evil which that other has done to us. To disturb his happiness merely because it stands in the way of our own, to take from him what is of real use to him merely because it may be of equal or of more use to us, or to indulge, in this manner, at the expense of other people, the natural preference which every man has for his own happiness above that of other people, is what no impartial spectator can go along with. Every man is, no doubt, by nature, first and principally recommended to his own care; and as he is fitter to take care of himself, than of any other person, it is fit and right that it should be so. Every man, therefore, is much more deeply interested in whatever immediately concerns himself, than in what concerns any other man: and to hear, perhaps, of the death of another person, with whom we have no particular connection, will give us less concern, will spoil our stomach, or break our rest, much less than a very insignificant disaster which has befallen ourselves. But though the ruin of our neighbour may affect us much less than a very small misfortune of our own, we must not ruin him to prevent that small misfortune, nor even to prevent our own ruin. We must here, as in all other cases, view

ourselves not so much according to that light in which we may naturally appear to ourselves, as according to that in which we naturally appear to others. Though every man may, according to the proverb, be the whole world to himself, to the rest of mankind he is a most insignificant part of it. Though his own happiness may be of more importance to him than that of all the world besides, to every other person it is of no more consequence than that of any other man. Though it may be true, therefore, that every individual, in his own breast, naturally prefers himself to all mankind, yet he dares not look mankind in the face, and avow that he acts according to this principle. He feels that in this preference they can never go along with him, and that how natural soever it may be to him, it must always appear excessive and extravagant to them. When he views himself in the light in which he is conscious that others will view him, he sees that to them he is but one of the multitude, in no respect better than any other in it. If he would act so as that the impartial spectator may enter into the principles of his conduct, which is what of all things he has the greatest desire to do, he must upon this, as upon all other occasions, humble the arrogance of his self-love, and bring it down to something which other men can go along with. They will indulge it so far as to allow him to be more anxious about, and to pursue with more earnest assiduity, his own happiness than that of any other person. Thus far, whenever they place themselves in his situation, they will readily go along with him. In the race for wealth, and honours, and perferments, he may run as hard as he can, and strain every nerve and every

muscle, in order to outstrip all his competitors. But if he should justle, or throw down any of them, the indulgence of the spectators is entirely at an end. It is a violation of fair play, which they cannot admit of. This man is to them, in every respect, as good as he: they do not enter into that self-love, by which he prefers himself so much to this other, and cannot go along with the motive from which he hurt him. They readily, therefore, sympathize with the natural resentment of the injured, and the offender becomes the object of their hatred and indignation. He is sensible that he becomes so, and feels that those sentiments are ready to burst out from all sides against him.

As the greater and more irreparable the evil that is done, the resentment of the sufferer runs naturally the higher; so does likewise the sympathetic indignation of the spectator, as well as the sense of guilt in the agent. Death is the greatest evil which one man can inflict upon another, and excites the highest degree of resentment in those who are immediately connected with the slain. Murder, therefore, is the most atrocious of all crimes which affect individuals only, in the sight both of mankind, and of the person who has committed it. To be deprived of that which we are possessed of, is a greater evil than to be disappointed of what we have only the expectation. Breach of property, therefore, theft and robbery, which take from us what we are possessed of, are greater crimes than breach of contract, which only disappoints us of what we expected. The most sacred laws of justice, therefore, those whose violation seems to call loudest for vengeance and punishment, are the laws which guard the life and person of our neighbour; the next

ourselves not so n we may naturally that in which we

every man may, a world to himself insignificant part may be of more the world besides more consequen

Though it may dual, in his own all mankind, yet h and avow that ple. He feels th go along with him be to him, it me travagant to the light in which h him, he sees tha tude, in no resp would act so as t into the princip! things he has t this, as upon gance of his se

which other !

are those which guard his property and passions;
and last of all come those which guard what cal

isa

led his personal rights, or what is due to him a
the promises of others.

The violator of the more sacred of justice can never reflect on the sentiments worn nankind mast entertain with regard to him, with feeling al the ages of shame, and horror, attention Wes passion is gratified, and he effect on his past conduct, he can the motives which influenced it. Tayyar R as detestable to him as they did air pe ple. By sympathizing with the bathrazen stamatt winch other men must entertain in some measure the object of som abuorrence. The situation of the person, 185 fered by his justice, now calls a s gneved as the thought of regres an eng effects of his own conduct, and fees at toe same pina hat hes have rendered husa the proper vijestoë?

Esenment and migraton of zanent, J

the mural consequence vi reseanent.

He

dulge it so fa

about, and to

own happines far, wheneve

they will rea

wealth, and h

hard as he c

seems hostile, and he would be glad to fly to some The spitable desert, where he might never more be

the face of a human creature, nor read in the senance of mankind the condemnation of his

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But solitude is still more dreadful than soHis own thoughts can present him with but what is black, unfortunate, and disastrous, ·lancholy forebodings of incomprehensible mind ruin. The horror of solitude drives him to society, and he comes again into the pref mankind, astonished to appear before them with shame and distracted with fear, in order licate some little protection from the counof those very judges, who he knows have alunanimously condemned him. Such is the f that sentiment, which is properly called reof all the sentiments which can enter the hueast the most dreadful. It is made up of from the sense of the impropriety of past ; of grief for the effects of it; of pity for ho suffer by it; and of the dread and terror of hent from the consciousness of the justly-proesentment of all rational creatures.

opposite behaviour naturally inspires the oppotiment. The man who, not from frivolous fanfrom proper motives, has performed a generous when he looks forward to those whom he has feels himself to be the natural object of their d gratitude, and, by sympathy with them, of teem and approbation of all mankind. And he looks backward, to the motive from which ed, and surveys it in the light in which the inent spectator will survey it, he still continues to

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