i be accounted for partly in the way I mentioned.* One ftriking proof of this is, the powerful emotions which may be occafionally excited in the minds of the most callous, when the attention has once been fixed, and the imagination awakened, by eloquent and circumftantial and pathetic defcription. A very amiable and profound moralift in the account which he has given of the origin of our sense of justice, has, I think, drawn a lefs pleafing picture of the natural conftitution of the human mind, than is agreeable to truth. "To difturb," (fays he,) "the happiness of our neighbor, merely because it "ftands in the way of our own; to take from him "what is of real ufe to him, merely because it may be "of equal or of more ufe to us; or, to indulge, in this "manner, at the expence of other people, the nat"ural preference which every man has for his own "happiness above that of other people, is what no 66 impartial spectator can go along with. Every man " is, no doubt, firft and principally recommended to "his own care; and as he is fitter to take care of "himself than of any other perfon, it is fit and right "that it should be fo. Every man, therefore, is "much more deeply interested in whatever immediately concerns himself, than in what concerns 66 any other man and to hear, perhaps, of the "death of another perfon with whom we have no "particular connection, will give us lefs concern, "will spoil our ftomach, or break our reft, much "lefs than a very infignificant difafter which has be"fallen ourselves. But though the ruin of our "neighbor 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 pre * I say partly; for habits of inattention to the situation of other men, undoubtedly presuppose some defect in the social affeetions. "vent our own ruin. We muft here, as in all oth"er cafes, view ourselves not fo much according to "that light in which we may naturally appear to our"felves, as according to that in which we naturally ap❝pear to others. Tho' every man may, according to "the proverb, be the whole world to himself, to the "reft of mankind he is a moft infignificant part "of it. Though his own happiness may be of more "importance to him than that of all the world be"fides, to every other perfon it is of no more con"fequence than that of any other man. Though it • may be true, therefore, that every individual, in "his own breaft, naturally prefers himself to all man"kind, 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 foever it may be to him, it must always appear exceffive " and extravagant to them. When he views him. "felf in the light in which he is conscious that oth"ers will view him, he fees that to them he is but "one of the multitude, in no refpect better than "any other in it. If he would act fo as that the " impartial fpectator may enter into the principles of " his conduct, which is what of all things he has the greatest defire to do, he muft, upon this, as upon all other occafions, humble the arrogance of his "felf-love, and bring it down to fomething which ❝ other men can go along with." ઃઃ I am ready to acknowledge, that there is much truth in this paffage; and that a prudential regard to the opinion of others, might teach a man of good fenfe, without the aid of more amiable motives, to conceal his unreasonable partialities in favor of himfelf, and to act agreeably to what he conceives to be the fentiments of impartial fpectators. But I cannot help thinking, that the fact is much too ftrongly stated with respect to the natural partiality of felf love, fuppofing the fituation of our neighbors to be as completely prefented to our view, as our own muft of neceffity be. When the Orator wishes to combat the selfish paffions of his audience, and to rouse them to a fenfe of what they owe to mankind; what mode of perfuafion does nature dictate to him? Is it to remind them of the importance of the good opinion of the world, and of the neceffity, in order to obtain it, of accommodating their conduct to the fentiments of others, rather than to their own feelings? Such confiderations undoubtedly might, with fome men, produce a certain effect; and might lead them to affume the appearance of virtue; but they would never excite a fentiment of indignation at the thought of injuftice, or a fudden and involuntary burft of difinterefted affection. If the Orator can only fucceed in fixing their attention to facts, and in bringing these facts home to their imagination by the power of his eloquence, he has completely attained his object. No fooner are the facts apprehended, than the benevolent principles of our nature difplay themselves in all their beauty. The moft cautious and timid lofe, for a moment, all thought of themselves, and defpifing every confideration of prudence or of fafety, become wholly engroffed with the fortunes of others. Many other facts, which are commonly alleged as proofs of the original selfishness of mankind, may be explained, in part, in a fimilar way; and may be traced to the habits of inattention, or to a want of imagination, arifing, probably, from fome fault in early education. What has now been remarked with respect to the focial principles, may be applied to all our other paffions, excepting those which take their rife from the body. They are commonly ftrong in proportion to the warmth and vigor of the imagination. It is, however, extremely curious, that when an imagination, which is naturally phlegmatic, or which, like those of the vulgar, has little activity from a want of culture, is fairly roused by the defcriptions of the Orator or of the Poet, it is more apt to produce the violence of enthusiasm, than in minds of a fuperior order. By giving this faculty occafional exercife, we acquire a great degree of command over it. As we can withdraw the attention at pleasure from objects of sense, and transport ourselves into a world of our own, fo when we wish to moderate our enthusiasm, we can difmifs the objects of imagination, and return to our ordinary perceptions and occupations. But in a mind to which thefe intellectual visions are not familiar, and which borrows them completely from the genius of another, imagination, when once excited, becomes perfectly ungovernable, and produces fomething like a temporary infanity. Hence the wonderful effects of popular eloquence on the lower orders ; effects which are much more remarkable, than what it ever produces on men of education. SECTION V. Continuation of the fame Subject.-Inconveniences refulting from an ill-regulated Imagination. IT was undoubtedly the intention of Nature that the objects of perception should produce much ftronger impreffions on the mind than its own operations. And, accordingly, they always do fo, when proper care has been taken in early life, to exercife the dif ferent principles of our conftitution. But it is poffible, by long habits of folitary reflection, to reverse this order of things, and to weaken the attention to fenfible objects to fo great a degree, as to leave the conduct almost wholly under the influence of imagination. Removed to a diflance from fociety, and 1 from the pursuits of life, when we have been long accustomed to converfe with our own thoughts, and have found our activity gratified by intellectual exertions, which afford scope to all our powers and affections, without expofing us to the inconveniences refulting from the buftle of the world, we are apt to contract an unnatural predilection for meditation,and to lose all intereft in external occurrences. In fuch a fituation too, the mind gradually lofes that command which education, when properly conducted, gives it over the train of its ideas; till at length the moft extravagant dreams of imagination acquire as powerful an influence in exciting all its paffions, as if they were realities. A wild and mountainous country, which prefents but a limited variety of objects, and thefe only of fuch a fort as "awake to fol"emn thought," has a remarkable effect in cherishing this enthufiafm. When fuch diforders of the imagination have been long confirmed by habit, the evil may perhaps be beyond a remedy; but in their inferior degrees, much may be expected from our own efforts; in particular, from mingling gradually in the bufiness and amusements of the world; or, if we have suffi. cient force of mind for the exertion, from refolutely plunging into those active and interefting and hazardous fcenes, which, by compelling us to attend to external circumftances, may weaken the impreffions of imagination, and ftrengthen thofe produced by realities. The advice of the poet, in these cafes, is equally beautiful and just : "Go, soft enthusiast! quit the cypress groves, "Your sad complaint. Go, seek the cheerful haunts "Lay schemes for wealth, or power, or fame, the wish 46 Or join the caravan in quest of scenes |