 File 22 of a Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume, Volume 2. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by George Yeager, Book 2 of the Passions, Part 2 of Love and Hatred, Section 10 of Respect and Contempt. There now remains only to explain the passions of respect and contempt, along with the amorous affection, in order to understand all the passions which have any mixture of love or hatred. Let us begin with respect and contempt. In considering the qualities and circumstances of others, we may either regard them as they really are in themselves, or may make a comparison betwixt them and our own qualities and circumstances, or may join these two methods of consideration. The good qualities of others, from the first point of view, produce love from the second humility, and from the third respect, which is a mixture of these two passions. Their bad qualities, after the same manner, cause either hatred or pride or contempt, according to the light in which we survey them. That there is a mixture of pride in contempt, and of humility in respect, is, I think, too evident from their very feeling or appearance to require any particular proof. That this mixture arises from a tacit comparison of the person contempt or respected with ourselves is no less evident. The same man may cause either respect, love, or contempt by his condition and talents, according as the person who considers him from his inferior becomes his equal or superior. In changing the point of view, though the object may remain the same, its proportion to ourselves entirely alters, which is the cause of an alteration in the passions. These passions, therefore, arise from our observing the proportion, that is, from a comparison. I have already observed that the mind has a much stronger propensity to pride than to humility, and have endeavored from the principles of human nature to assign a cause for this phenomenon. Whether my reasoning be received or not, the phenomenon is undisputed and appears in many instances. Among the rest it is the reason why there is a much greater mixture of pride in contempt than of humility in respect, and why we are more elevated with the view of one below us than mortified with the presence of one above us. Contempt or scorn has so strong a tincture of pride that their scarce is any other passion discernable, whereas in esteem or respect love makes a more considerable ingredient than humility. The passion of vanity is so prompt that it rouses at the least call, while humility requires a stronger impulse to make it exert itself. But here it may reasonably be asked why this mixture takes place only in some cases, and appears not on every occasion. All those objects which cause love when placed on another person are the causes of pride when transferred to ourselves, and consequently ought to be causes of humility as well as love while they belong to others, and are only compared to those which we ourselves possess. In like manner every quality which by being directly considered produces hatred ought always to give rise to pride by comparison, and by a mixture of these passions of hatred and pride ought to excite contempt or scorn. The difficulty then is why any objects ever cause pure love or hatred, and produce not always the mixed passions of respect and contempt. I have supposed all along that the passions of love and pride, and those of humility and hatred are similar in their sensations, and that the two former are always agreeable, and the two latter painful. But though this be universally true, it is observable that the two agreeable, as well as the two painful passions, have some differences and even contrarities which distinguish them. Nothing invigorates and exalts the mind equally with pride and vanity, though at the same time love or tenderness is rather found to weaken and enfeeble it. The same difference is observable betwixt the uneasy passions. Anger and hatred bestow a new force on all our thoughts and actions, while humility and shame deject and discourage us. Of these qualities of the passions it will be necessary to form a distinct idea. Let us remember that pride and hatred invigorate the soul, and love and humility enfeeble it. From this it follows that though the conformity betwixt love and hatred in the agreeableness of their sensation makes them always be excited by the same objects, yet this other contrarity is the reason why they are excited in very different degrees. Ignorance and learning are pleasant and magnificent objects, and by both these circumstances are adapted to pride and vanity but have a relation to love by their pleasure only. Ignorance and simplicity are disagreeable and mean, which in the same manner gives them a double connection with humility and a single one with hatred. We may therefore consider it as certain that though the same object always produces love and pride, humility and hatred according to its different situations, yet its seldom produces either the two former or the two latter passions in the same proportion. It is here we must seek for a solution of the difficulty above mentioned. Why any object ever excites pure love or hatred and does not always produce respect or contempt by a mixture of humility or pride? No quality in another gives rise to humility by comparison unless it would have produced pride by being placed in ourselves, and vice versa no object excites pride by comparison unless it would have produced humility by the direct survey. This is evident. Objects always produce by comparison a sensation directly contrary to their original one. Suppose therefore an object to be presented which is peculiarly fitted to produce love but imperfectly to excite pride. This object belonging to another gives rise directly to a great degree of love but to a small one of humility by comparison, and consequently that latter passion is scarce felt in the compound nor is able to convert the love into respect. This is the case with good nature, good humor, facility, generosity, beauty and many other qualities. These have a peculiar aptitude to produce love in others, but not so great a tendency to excite pride in ourselves, for which reason the view of them as belonging to another person produces pure love with but a small mixture of humility and respect. It is easy to extend the same reasoning to the opposite passions. Before we leave this subject it may not be amiss to account for a pretty curious phenomenon, that is why we commonly keep at a distance such as we condemn and allow not our inferiors to approach too near even in place and situation. It has already been observed that almost every kind of idea is attended with some emotion, even the ideas of number and extension, much more those of such objects as are esteemed of consequence in life and fix our attention. It is not with entire indifference we can survey either a rich man or a poor one, but must feel some faint touches at least of respect in the former case and of contempt in the latter. These two passions are contrary to each other, but in order to make this contrarity be felt, the objects must be some way related, otherwise the affections are totally separate and distinct and never encounter. The relation takes place wherever the persons become contiguous, which is a general reason why we are uneasy at seeing such disproportioned objects as a rich man and a poor one, a noble man and a porter in that situation. This uneasiness which is common to every spectator must be more sensible to the superior and that because the near approach of the inferior is regarded as a piece of ill-breeding ensures that he is not sensible of the disproportion and is no way affected by it. A sense of superiority in another breeds in all men an inclination to keep themselves at a distance from him and determines them to redouble the marks of respect and reference when they are obliged to approach him, and where they do not observe that conduct, it is a proof they are not sensible of his superiority. From hence to it proceeds that any great difference in the degrees of any quality is called a distance by a common metaphor, which however trivial it may appear is founded on natural principles of the imagination. A great difference inclines us to produce a distance. The ideas of distance and difference are, therefore, connected together. Connected ideas are readily taken for each other, and this is in general the source of the metaphor as we shall have occasion to observe afterwards. End of File XXII of the Amorous Passion or Love Betwixt the Sexes Of all the compound passions which proceed from a mixture of love and hatred with other affections, no one better deserves our attention than that love which arises betwixt the sexes, as well on account of its force and violence as those curious principles of philosophy for which it affords us an uncontestable argument. It is plain that this affection in its most natural state is derived from the conjunction of three different impressions or passions, that is, the pleasing sensation arising from beauty, the bodily appetite for generation, and a generous kindness or goodwill. The origin of kindness from beauty may be explained from the foregoing reasoning. The question is how the bodily appetite is excited by it. The appetite of generation, when confined to a certain degree, is evidently of the pleasant kind and has a strong connection with all the agreeable emotions. Joy, mirth, vanity, and kindness are all incentives to this desire, as well as music, dancing, wine, and good cheer. On the other hand, sorrow, melancholy, poverty, humility are destructive of it. From this quality it is easily conceived why it should be connected with the sense of beauty. But there is another principle that contributes to the same effect. I have observed that the parallel direction of the desires is a real relation and no less than a resemblance in their sensation produces a connection among them. That we may fully comprehend the extent of this relation we must consider that any principal desire may be attended with subordinate ones which are connected with it, and to which, if other desires are parallel, they are by that means related to the principal one. Thus, hunger may often be considered as the primary inclination of the soul, and the desire of approaching the meat as the secondary one, since it is absolutely necessary to the satisfying that appetite. If an object, therefore, by any separate qualities, inclines us to approach the meat, it naturally increases our appetite, as on the contrary, whatever inclines us to set our victuals at a distance is contradictory to hunger and diminishes our inclination to them. Now it is plain that beauty has the first effect, and deformity the second, which is the reason why the former gives us a keener appetite for our victuals, and the latter is sufficient to disgust us at the most savory dish that cookery has invented. All this is easily applicable to the appetite for generation. From these two relations, that is, resemblance and a parallel desire, there arises such a connection betwixt the sense of beauty, the bodily appetite, and benevolence that they become in a manner inseparable. And we find from experience that it is indifferent which of them advances first, since any of them is almost sure to be attended with the related affections. One who is inflamed with lust feels at least a momentary kindness towards the object of it, and at the same time fancies her more beautiful than ordinary, as there are many who begin with kindness and esteem for the wit and merit of the person, and advance from that to the other passions. But the most common species of love is that which first arises from beauty, and afterwards diffuses itself into kindness and into the bodily appetite. Love, or esteem, and the appetite to generation are too remote to unite easily together. The one is perhaps the most refined passion of the soul, the other the most gross and vulgar. The love of beauty is placed in a just medium betwixt them and partakes of both their natures, from whence it proceeds that it is so singularly fitted to produce both. This account of love is not peculiar to my system, but is unavoidable on any hypothesis. The three affections which compose this passion are evidently distinct, and has each of them its distinct object. It is certain, therefore, that it is only by their relation they produce each other. But the relation of passions is not alone sufficient. It is likewise necessary there should be a relation of ideas. The beauty of one person never inspires us with love for another. This then is a sensible proof of the double relation of impressions and ideas. From one instance so evident as this we may form a judgment of the rest. This may also serve in another view to illustrate what I have insisted on concerning the origin of pride and humility, love and hatred. I have observed that those self be the object of the first set of passions and some other person of the second, yet these objects cannot alone be the causes of the passions as having each of them a relation to two contrary affections which must from the very first moment destroy each other. Here then is the situation of the mind as I have already described it. It has certain organs naturally fitted to produce a passion. That passion, when produced, naturally turns the view to a certain object. But this not being sufficient to produce the passion, there is required some other emotion which by a double relation of impressions and ideas may set these principles in action and bestow on them their first impulse. This situation is still more remarkable with regard to the appetite of generation. This is not only the object but also the cause of the appetite. We not only turn our view to it when actuated by that appetite but the reflecting on it suffices to excite the appetite. But as this cause loses its force by too great frequency it is necessary it should be quickened by some new impulse and that impulse we find to arise from the beauty of the person that is from a double relation of impressions and ideas. Since this double relation is necessary where an affection has both a distinct cause and object how much more so where it has only a distinct object without any determinant cause. File 24 of a Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume, Volume 2. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by George Yeager. Book 2 of the Passions. Part 2 of Love and Hatred. Section 12 of the Love and Hatred of Animals. But to pass from the passions of love and hatred and from their mixtures and compositions as they appear in man to the same affections as they display themselves in brutes we may observe not only that love and hatred are common to the whole sensitive creation but likewise that their causes as above explained are of so simple a nature that they may easily be supposed to operate on mere animals. There is no force of reflection or penetration required. Everything is conducted by springs and principles which are not peculiar to man or any one species of animals. The conclusion from this is obvious in favor of the foregoing system. Love in animals has not for its only object animals of the same species but extends itself farther and comprehends almost every sensible and thinking being. A dog naturally loves a man above his own species and very commonly meets with a return of affection. As animals are but little susceptible either of the pleasures or pains of the imagination they can judge of objects only by the sensible good or evil which they produce and from that must regulate their affections toward them. Accordingly we find that by benefits or injuries we produce their love or hatred and that by feeding and cherishing any animal we quickly acquire his affections as by beating and abusing him we never fail to draw on us his enmity and ill will. Love in beasts is not caused so much by relation as in our species and that because their thoughts are not so active as to trace relations except in very obvious instances. Yet it is easy to remark that on some occasions it has a considerable influence upon them. Thus acquaintance which has the same effect as relation always produces love in animals either to men or to each other. For the same reason any likeness among them is the source of affection. An ox confined to a park with horses will naturally join their company if I may so speak but always leaves it to enjoy that of his own species where he has the choice of both. The affection of parents to their young proceeds from a peculiar instinct in animals as well as in our species. It is evident that sympathy or the communication of passions takes place among animals no less than among men. Fear, anger, courage, and other affections are frequently communicated from one animal to another without their knowledge of that cause which produced the original passion. Grief likewise is received by sympathy and produces almost all the same consequences and excites the same emotions as in our species. The howlings and lamentations of a dog produce a sensible concern in his fellows and it is remarkable that though almost all animals use in play the same member and nearly the same action as in fighting, a lion, a tiger, a cat, their paws, an ox, his horns, a dog, his teeth, a horse, his heels, yet they most carefully avoid harming their companion even though they have nothing to fear from his resentment which is an evident proof of the sense brutes have of each other's pain and pleasure. Everyone has observed how much more dogs are animated when they hunt in a pack than when they pursue their game apart, and it is evident this can proceed from nothing but from sympathy. It is also well known to hunters that this effect follows in a greater degree and even in too great a degree where two packs that are strangers to each other are joined together. We might perhaps be at a loss to explain this phenomenon if we had not experience of a similar in ourselves. Envy and malice are passions very remarkable in animals. They are perhaps more common than pity as requiring less effort of thought and imagination. We come now to explain the direct passions or the impressions which arise immediately from good or evil, from pain or pleasure. Of this kind are desire and aversion, grief and joy, hope and fear. Of all the immediate effects of pain and pleasure there is none more remarkable than the will, and though properly speaking it be not comprehended among the passions, yet as the full understanding of its nature and properties is necessary to the explanation of them, we shall here make it the subject of our inquiry. I desire it may be observed that by the will I mean nothing but the internal impression we feel and are conscious of when we knowingly give rise to any new motion of our body or new perception of our mind. This impression, like the preceding ones of pride and humility, love and hatred, it is impossible to define and needless to describe any further, for which reason we shall cut off all those definitions and distinctions with which philosophers are wont to perplex rather than clear up this question and entering at first upon the subject shall examine that long disputed question concerning liberty and necessity which occurs so naturally in treating of the will. It is universally acknowledged that the operations of external bodies are necessary and that in the communication of their motion in their attraction and mutual cohesion there are not the least traces of indifference or liberty. Every object is determined by an absolute fate to a certain degree and direction of its motion and can no more depart from that precise line in which it moves than it can convert itself into an angel or spirit or any superior substance. The actions therefore of matter are to be regarded as instances of necessary actions and whatever is in this respect on the same footing with matter must be acknowledged to be necessary. That we may know whether this be the case with the actions of the mind we shall begin with examining matter and considering on what the idea of necessity in its operations are founded and why we conclude one body or action to be the infallible cause of another. It has been observed already that in no single instance the ultimate connection of any objects is discoverable either by our senses or reason and that we can never penetrate so far into the essence and construction of bodies as to perceive the principle on which their mutual influence depends. It is their constant union alone with which we are acquainted and it is from the constant union the necessity arises. If objects had not an uniform and regular conjunction with each other we should never arrive at any idea of cause and effect and even after all the necessity which enters into that idea is nothing but a determination of the mind to pass from one object to its usual attendant and infer the existence of one from that of the other. Here then are two particulars which we are to consider as essential to necessity. That is the constant union and the inference of the mind and wherever we discover these we must acknowledge a necessity. As the actions of matter have no necessity but what is derived from these circumstances and it is not by any insight into the essence of bodies we discover their connection the absence of this insight while the union and inference remain will never in any case remove the necessity. It is the observation of the union which produces the inference for which reason it might be thought sufficient if we prove a constant union in the actions of the mind in order to establish the inference along with the necessity of these actions. But that I may bestow a greater force on my reasoning I shall examine these particulars apart and shall first prove from experience that our actions have a constant union with our motives, tempers and circumstances before I consider the inferences we draw from it. To this end a very slight and general view of the common course of human affairs will be sufficient. There is no light in which we can take them that does not confirm this principle. Whether we consider mankind according to the difference of sexes, ages, governments, conditions or methods of education the same uniformity and regular operation of natural principles are discernible. Like causes still produce like effects in the same manner as in the mutual action of the elements and powers of nature. There are different trees which regularly produce fruit whose relish is different from each other and this regularity will be admitted as an instance of necessity and causes in external bodies. But are the products of guian and of champagne more regularly different than the sentiments, actions and passions of the two sexes of which the one are distinguished by their force and maturity, the other by their delicacy and softness? Are the changes of our body from infancy to old age more regular and certain than those of our mind and conduct? And would a man be more ridiculous who would expect that an infant of four years old will raise a weight of three hundred pound than one who from a person of the same age would look for a philosophical reasoning or a prudent and well concerted action? We must certainly allow that the cohesion of the parts of matter arises from natural and necessary principles, whatever difficulty we may find in explaining them. And for a like reason we must allow that human society is founded on like principles and our reason in the latter case is better than even that in the former because we not only observe that men always seek society but can also explain the principles on which this universal propensity is founded. For is it more certain that two flat pieces of marble will unite together than that two young savages of different sexes will copulate? Do the children arise from this copulation more uniformly than does the parents care for their safety and preservation? And after they have arrived at years of discretion by the care of their parents are the inconveniences attending their separation more certain than their foresight of these inconveniences and their care of avoiding them by a close union and confederacy. The skin, pores, muscles and nerves of a day laborer are different from those of a man of quality. So are his sentiments, actions and manners. The different stations of life influence the whole fabric, external and internal and these different stations arise necessarily because uniformly from the necessary and uniform principles of human nature. Men cannot live without society and cannot be associated without government. Government makes a distinction of property and establishes the different ranks of men. This produces industry, traffic, manufacturers, lawsuits, war, leagues, alliances, voyages, travels, cities, fleets, ports and all those other actions and objects which cause such a diversity and at the same time maintain such an uniformity in human life. Should a traveler returning from a far country tell us that he had seen a climate in the 50th degree of northern latitude where all the fruits ripen and come to perfection in the winter and decay in the summer after the same manner as in England they are produced and decay in the contrary seasons he would find few so ridiculous as to believe him. I am apt to think a traveler would meet with as little credit who should inform us of people exactly of the same character with those in Plato's Republic on the one hand or those in Hobbes' Leviathan on the other. There is a general course of nature in human actions as well as in the operations of the sun and the climate. There are also characters peculiar to different nations and particular persons as well as common to mankind. The knowledge of these characters is founded on the observation of an uniformity in the actions that flow from them and this uniformity forms the very essence of necessity. I can imagine only one way of eluding this argument which is by denying that uniformity of human actions on which it is founded. As long as actions have a constant union and connection with the situation and temper of the agent however we may in words refuse to acknowledge the necessity we really allow the thing. Now some may perhaps find a pretext to deny this regular union and connection for what is more capricious than human actions, what more inconstant than the desires of man and what creature departs more widely not only from right reason but from his own character and disposition. An hour, a moment is sufficient to make him change from one extreme to another and overturn what costs the greatest pain and labor to establish. Necessity is regular and certain, human conduct is irregular and uncertain, the one therefore proceeds not from the other. To this I reply that in judging of the actions of men we must proceed upon the same maxims as when we reason concerning external objects. When any phenomena are constantly and invariably conjoined together they acquire such a connection in the imagination that it passes from one to the other without any doubt or hesitation. But below this there are many inferior degrees of evidence and probability nor does one single contrarity of experiment entirely destroy all our reasoning. The mind balances the contrary experiments and deducting the inferior from the superior proceeds with that degree of assurance or evidence which remains. Even when these contrary experiments are entirely equal we remove not the notion of causes and necessity but supposing that the usual contrarity proceeds from the operation of contrary and concealed causes we conclude that the chance or indifference lies only in our judgment on account of our imperfect knowledge not in the things themselves which are in every case equally necessary though to appearance not equally constant or certain. No union can be more constant and certain than that of some actions with some motives and characters and if in other cases the union is uncertain it is no more than what happens in the operations of body nor can we conclude anything from the one irregularity which will not follow equally from the other. It is commonly allowed that mad men have no liberty but were we to judge by their actions these have less regularity and constancy than the actions of wise men and consequently are further removed from necessity. Our way of thinking in this particular is therefore absolutely inconsistent but is a natural consequence of these confused ideas and undefined terms which we so commonly make use of in our reasonings especially on the present subject. We must now shoe that as the union betwixt motives and actions has the same constancy as that in any natural operations so its influence on the understanding is also the same in determining us to infer the existence of one from that of another. If this shall appear there is no known circumstance that enters into the connection and production of the actions of matter that is not to be found in all the operations of the mind and consequently we cannot without a manifest absurdity attribute necessity to the one and refuse it to the other. There is no philosopher whose judgment is so riveted to this fantastical system of liberty as not to acknowledge the force of moral evidence and both in speculation and practice proceed upon it as upon a reasonable foundation. Now moral evidence is nothing but a conclusion concerning the actions of men derived from the consideration of their motives, motives, temper and situation. Thus when we see certain characters or figures described upon paper we infer that the person who produced them would affirm such facts. The death of Caesar, the success of Augustus, the cruelty of Nero and remembering many other concurrent testimonies we conclude that those facts were once really existent and that so many men without any interest would never conspire to deceive us especially since they must in the attempt expose themselves to the derision of all their contemporaries when these facts were asserted to be recent and universally known. The same kind of reasoning runs through politics, war, commerce, economy and indeed mixes itself so entirely in human life that it is impossible to act or subsist a moment without having recourse to it. A prince who imposes attacks upon his subjects expects their compliance. A general who conducts an army makes account of a certain degree of courage. A merchant looks for fidelity and skill in his factor or supercargo. A man who gives orders for his dinner doubts not of the obedience of his servants. In short, as nothing more nearly interests us than our own actions and those of others the greatest part of our reasonings is employed in judgments concerning them. Now I assert that whoever reasons after this manner does, ipso facto, believe the actions of the will to arise from necessity and that he knows not what he means when he denies it. All those objects of which we call the one cause and the other effect considered in themselves are as distinct and separate from each other as any two things in nature. Nor can we ever, by the most accurate survey of them, infer the existence of the one from that of the other. It is only from experience and the observation of their constant union that we are able to form this inference and even after all the inference is nothing but the effects of custom on the imagination. We must not here be content with saying that the idea of cause and effect arises from objects constantly united but must affirm that it is the very same with the idea of these objects and that the necessary connection is not discovered by a conclusion of the understanding but is merely a perception of the mind. Wherever therefore we observe the same union and wherever the union operates in the same manner upon the belief and opinion we have the idea of causes and necessity though perhaps we may avoid those expressions. Motion in one body in all past instances that have fallen under our observation is followed upon impulse by motion in another. It is impossible for the mind to penetrate further. From this constant union it forms the idea of cause and effect and by its influence feels the necessity. As there is the same constancy and the same influence in what we call moral evidence I ask no more. What remains can only be a dispute of words and indeed when we consider how aptly natural and moral evidence cement together and form only one chain of argument betwixt them we shall make no scruple to allow that they are of the same nature and derived from the same principles. A prisoner who has neither money nor interest discovers the impossibility of his escape as well from the obstinacy of the jailer as from the walls and bars with which he is surrounded and in all attempts for his freedom chooses rather to work upon the stone and iron of the one than upon the inflexible nature of the other. The same prisoner when conducted to the scaffold foresees his death as certainly from the constancy and fidelity of his guards as from the operation of the axe or wheel. His mind runs along a certain train of ideas the refusal of the soldiers to consent to his escape the action of the executioner the separation of the head and body bleeding, convulsive motions and death. Here is a connected chain of natural causes and voluntary actions but the mind feels no difference betwixt them in passing from one link to another or is less certain of the future event than if it were connected with the present impressions of the memory and senses by a train of causes cemented together by what we are pleased to call a physical necessity. The same experienced union has the same effect on the mind whether the united objects be motives, volitions and actions or figure and motion. We may change the names of things but their nature and their operation on the understanding never change. I dare be positive no one will ever endeavor to refute these reasonings otherwise than by altering my definitions and assigning a different meaning to the terms of cause and effect and necessity and liberty and chance. According to my definitions necessity makes an essential part of causation and consequently liberty by removing necessity removes also causes and is the very same thing with chance. As chance is commonly thought to imply a contradiction and is at least directly contrary to experience there are always the same arguments against liberty or free will. If anyone alters the definitions I cannot pretend to argue with him until I know the meaning he assigns to these terms. End of file 25 File 26 of a treatise of human nature by David Hume, volume 2. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by George Yeager. Book 2 of the passions. Part 3 of the will and direct passions. Section 2, the same subject continued. I believe we may assign the three following reasons for the prevalence of the doctrine of liberty however absurd it may be in one sense and unintelligible in any other. First, after we have performed any action though we confess we were influenced by particular views and motives it is difficult for us to persuade ourselves we were governed by necessity and that it was utterly impossible for us to have acted otherwise. The idea of necessity seeming to imply something of force and violence and constraint of which we are not sensible. Few are capable of distinguishing betwixt the liberty of spontaneity as it is called in the schools and the liberty of indifference betwixt that which is opposed to violence and that which means a negation of necessity and causes. The first is even the most common sense of the word and as it is only that species of liberty which it concerns us to preserve our thoughts have been principally turned towards it and have almost universally confounded it with the other. Secondly, there is a false sensation or experience even of the liberty of indifference which is regarded as an argument for its real existence. The necessity of any action whether of matter or of the mind is not properly a quality in the agent but in any thinking or intelligent being who may consider the action and consists in the determination of his thought to infer its existence from some preceding objects as liberty or chance on the other hand is nothing but the want of that determination and a certain looseness which we feel in passing or not passing from the idea of one to that of the other. Now we may observe that though in reflecting on human actions we seldom feel such a looseness or indifference yet it very commonly happens that in performing the actions themselves we are sensible of something like it and as all related or resembling objects are readily taken for each other this has been employed as a demonstrative or even an intuitive proof of human liberty. We feel that our actions are subject to our will on most occasions and imagine we feel that the will itself is subject to nothing because when by a denial of it we are provoked to try we feel that it moves easily every way and produces an image of itself even on that side on which it did not settle. This image or faint motion we persuade ourselves could have been completed into the thing itself because should that be denied we find upon a second trial that it can but these efforts are all in vain and whatever capricious and irregular actions we may perform as the desire of showing our liberty is the sole motive of our actions we can never free ourselves from the bonds of necessity. We may imagine we feel a liberty within ourselves but a spectator can commonly infer our actions from our motives and character and even where he cannot he concludes in general that he might where he perfectly acquainted with every circumstance of our situation and temper and the most secret springs of our complexion and disposition. Now this is the very essence of necessity according to the foregoing doctrine. A third reason why the doctrine of liberty has generally been better received in the world than its antagonist proceeds from religion which has been very unnecessarily interested in this question. There is no method of reasoning more common and yet none more blameable than in philosophical debates to endeavor to refute any hypothesis by a pretext of its dangerous consequences to religion and morality. When any opinion leads us into absurdities it is certainly false but it is not certain an opinion is false because it is of dangerous consequence. Such topics therefore ought entirely to be foreborn as serving nothing to the discovery of truth but only to make the person of an antagonist odious. This I observe in general without pretending to draw any advantage from it. I submit myself frankly to an examination of this kind and dare venture to affirm that the doctrine of necessity according to my explication of it is not only innocent but even advantageous to religion and morality. I define necessity two ways conformable to the two definitions of cause of which it makes an essential part. I place it either in the constant union and conjunction of like objects or in the inference of the mind from the one to the other. Now necessity in both these senses has universally, though tacitly in the schools, in the pulpit and in common life been allowed to belong to the will of man and no one has ever pretended to deny that we can draw inferences concerning human actions and that those inferences are founded on the experienced union of like actions with like motives and circumstances. The only particular in which anyone can differ from me is either that perhaps he will refuse to call this necessity but as long as the meaning is understood I hope the word can do no harm or that he will maintain there is something else in the operations of matter. Now whether it be so or not is of no consequence to religion whatever it may be to natural philosophy. I may be mistaken in asserting that we have no idea of any other connection in the actions of body and shall be glad to be further instructed on that head. But sure I am, I ascribe nothing to the actions of the mind but what must readily be allowed of. Let no one, therefore, put an invidious construction on my words by saying simply that I assert the necessity of human actions and place them on the same footing with the operations of senseless matter. I do not ascribe to the will that unintelligible necessity which is supposed to lie in matter but I ascribe to matter that intelligible quality call it necessity or not which the most rigorous orthodoxy does or must allow to belong to the will. I change, therefore, nothing in the received systems with regard to the will but only with regard to material objects. Nay, I shall go farther and assert that this kind of necessity is so essential to religion and morality that without it there must ensue an absolute subversion of both and that every other supposition is entirely destructive to all laws both divine and human. It is indeed certain that as all human laws are founded on rewards and punishments it is supposed as a fundamental principle that these motives have an influence on the mind and both produce the good and prevent the evil actions. We may give to this influence what name we please but as it is usually conjoined with the action common sense requires it should be esteemed a cause and be looked upon as an instance of that necessity which I would establish. This reasoning is equally solid when applied to divine laws so far as the deity is considered as a legislator and is supposed to inflict punishment and bestow rewards with the design to produce obedience. But I also maintain that even where he acts not in his magisterial capacity but is regarded as the Avenger of Crimes merely on account of their odiousness and deformity not only it is impossible without the necessary connection of cause and effect in human actions that punishments could be inflicted compatible with justice and moral equity but also that it could ever enter into the thoughts of any reasonable being to inflict them. The constant and universal object of hatred or anger is a person or creature endowed with thought and consciousness and when any criminal or injurious actions excite that passion it is only by their relation to the person or connection with him. But according to the doctrine of liberty or chance this connection is reduced to nothing nor are men more accountable for those actions which are designed and premeditated than for such as are the most casual and accidental. Actions are by their very nature temporary and perishing and where they proceed not from some cause in the characters and disposition of the person who performed them they infix not themselves upon him and can neither redound to his honor if good nor infamy if evil. The action itself may be blameable it may be contrary to all the rules of morality and religion but the person is not responsible for it and as it proceeded from nothing in him that is durable or constant and leaves nothing of that nature behind it it is impossible he can upon its account become the object of punishment or vengeance. According to the hypothesis of liberty therefore a man is as pure and untated after having committed the most horrid crimes as at the first moment of his birth nor is his character anyway concerned in his actions since they are not derived from it and the wickedness of the one can never be used as a proof of the depravity of the other. It is only upon the principles of necessity that a person acquires any merit or demerit from his actions however the common opinion may incline to the contrary but so inconsistent are men with themselves that though they often assert that necessity utterly destroys all merit and demerit either towards mankind or superior powers yet they continue still to reason upon these very principles of necessity in all their judgments concerning this matter. Men are not blamed for such evil actions as they perform ignorantly and casually whatever may be their consequences. Why? But because the causes of these actions are only momentary and terminate in them alone. Men are less blamed for such evil actions as they perform hastily and unpremeditatedly than for such as proceed from thought and liberation, for what reason? But because a hasty temper though a constant cause in the mind operates only by intervals and infects not the whole character. Again, repentance wipes off every crime especially if attended with an evident reformation of life and manners. How is this to be accounted for but by asserting that actions render a person criminal merely as they are proofs of criminal passions or principles in the mind? And when by any alteration of these principles they cease to be just proofs they likewise cease to be criminal but according to the doctrine of liberty or chance they never were just proofs and consequently never were criminal. Here then I turn to my adversary and desire him to free his own system from these odious consequences before he charged them upon others. Or if he rather chooses that this question should be decided by fair arguments before philosophers than by declamations before the people. Let him return to what I have advanced to prove that liberty and chance are synonymous and concerning the nature of moral evidence and the regularity of human actions. Upon a review of these reasonings I cannot doubt of an entire victory and therefore having proved that all actions of the will have particular causes I proceed to explain what these causes are and how they operate. End of File 26 File 27 of a Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume Volume 2 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by George Yeager Book 2 of the Passions Part 3 of the Will and Direct Passions Section 3 of the Influencing Motives of the Will Nothing is more usual in philosophy and even in common life than to talk of the combat of passion and reason to give the preference to reason and to assert that men are only so far virtuous as they conform themselves to its dictates. Every rational creature it is said is obliged to regulate his actions by reason and if any other motive or principle challenged the direction of his conduct he ought to oppose it till it be entirely subdued or at least brought to conformity with that superior principle. On this method of thinking the greatest part of moral philosophy ancient and modern seems to be founded nor is there an ampler field as well for metaphysical arguments as popular declamations than this supposed preeminence of reason above passion. The eternity, invariableness and divine origin of the former have been displayed to the best advantage. The blindness, unconstancy and deceitfulness of the latter have been as strongly insisted on. In order to shoo the fallacy of all this philosophy I shall endeavor to prove first that reason alone can never be a motive to any action of the will and secondly that it can never oppose passion in the direction of the will. The understanding exerts itself after two different ways as it judges from demonstration or probability as it regards the abstract relations of our ideas or those relations of objects of which experience only gives us information. I believe it scarce will be asserted that the first species of reasoning alone is ever the cause of any action as its proper province is the world of ideas and as the will always places us in that of realities demonstration and volition seem to be totally removed from each other. Mathematics indeed are useful in all mechanical operations and arithmetic in almost every art and profession but it is not of themselves they have any influence. Mechanics are the art of regulating the motions of bodies to some designed end or purpose and the reason why we employ arithmetic in fixing the proportions of numbers is only that we may discover the proportions of their influence and operation. A merchant is desirous of knowing the sum total of his accounts with any person why, but that he may learn what sum will have the same effects in paying his debt and going to market as all the particular articles taken together. Abstract or demonstrative reasoning, therefore never influences any of our actions but only as it directs our judgment concerning causes and effects which leads us to the second operation of the understanding. It is obvious that when we have the prospect of pain or pleasure from any object we feel a consequent emotion of aversion or propensity and are carried to avoid or embrace what will give us this uneasiness or satisfaction. It is also obvious that this emotion rests not here but making us cast our view on every side comprehends whatever objects are connected with its original one by the relation of cause and effect. Here then, reasoning takes place to discover this relation and according as our reasoning varies our actions receive a subsequent variation. But it is evident in this case that the impulse arises not from reason but is only directed by it. It is from the prospect of pain or pleasure that the aversion or propensity arises towards any object and these emotions extend themselves to the causes and effects of that object as they are pointed out to us by reason and experience. It can never in the least concern us to know that such objects are causes and such others effects if both the causes and effects be indifferent to us. Where the objects themselves do not affect us their connection can never give them any influence and reason is nothing but the discovery of this connection it cannot be by its means that the objects are able to affect us. Since reason alone can never produce any action or give rise to volition I infer that the same faculty is as incapable of preventing volition or of disputing the preference with any passion or emotion. This consequence is necessary. It is impossible reason could have the latter effect of preventing volition but by giving an impulse in a contrary direction to our passion and that impulse had it operated alone would have been able to produce volition. Nothing can oppose or retard the impulse of passion but a contrary impulse. And if this contrary impulse ever arises from reason that latter faculty must have an original influence on the will and must be able to cause as well as hinder any act of volition but if reason has no original influence it is impossible it can withstand any principle which has such an efficacy or ever keep the mind in suspense a moment. Thus it appears that the principle which opposes our passion cannot be the same with reason and is only called so in an improper sense. We speak not strictly and philosophically when we talk of the combat of passion and of reason. Reason is an ought only to be the slave of the passions and can never pretend to any other office than to serve and obey them. As this opinion may appear somewhat extraordinary it may not be improper to confirm it by some other considerations. A passion is an original existence or, if you will, modification of existence and contains not any representative quality which renders it a copy of any other existence or modification. When I am angry I am actually possessed with the passion and in that emotion have no more a reference to any other object than when I am thirsty or sick or more than five foot high. It is impossible, therefore, that this passion can be opposed by or be contradictory to truth and reason since this contradiction consists in the disagreement of ideas and copies with those objects which they represent. What may at first occur on this head is that as nothing can be contrary to truth or reason except what has a reference to it and as the judgments of our understanding only have this reference it must follow that passions can be contrary to reason only so far as they are accompanied by attachment or opinion. According to this principle which is so obvious and natural it is only in two senses that any affection can be called unreasonable. First, when a passion such as hope or fear, grief or joy, despair or security is founded on the supposition of the existence of objects which really do not exist. When in exerting any passion in action we choose means insufficient for the designed end and deceive ourselves in our judgment of causes and effects. Where a passion is neither founded on false suppositions nor chooses means insufficient for the end the understanding can neither justify nor condemn it. It is not contrary to reason to prefer the destruction of the whole world to the scratching of my finger. It is not contrary to reason for me to choose my total ruin to prevent the least uneasiness of an Indian or person wholly unknown to me. It is as little contrary to reason to prefer even my own acknowledged lesser good to my greater and have a more ardent affection for the former than the latter. A trivial good may, from certain circumstances, produce a desire superior to what arises from the greatest and most valuable enjoyment. Nor is there anything more extraordinary in this than in mechanics to see one-pound weight raise up a hundred by the advantage of its situation. In short, a passion must be accompanied with some false judgment in order to its being unreasonable and even then it is not the passion properly speaking which is unreasonable but the judgment. The consequences are evident since a passion can never in any sense be called unreasonable but when founded on a false supposition or when it chooses means insufficient for the designed end it is impossible that reason and passion can ever oppose each other or dispute for the government of the will and actions. The moment we perceive the falsehood of any supposition or the insufficiency of any means our passions yield to our reason without any opposition. I may desire any fruit as of an excellent relish but whenever you convince me of my mistake my longing ceases. I may will the performance of certain actions as a means of obtaining any desired good but as my willing of these actions is only secondary and founded on the supposition that they are causes of the proposed effect as soon as I discover the falsehood of that supposition they must become indifferent to me. It is natural for one that does not examine objects with a strict philosophic eye to imagine that those actions of the mind are entirely the same which produce not a different sensation and are not immediately distinguishable to the feeling and perception. Reason, for instance, exerts itself without producing any sensible emotion and except in the more sublime disquisitions of philosophy or in the frivolous subtleties of the school scarce ever conveys any pleasure or uneasiness. Hence it proceeds that every action of the mind which operates with the same calmness and tranquility is confounded with reason by all those who judge of things from the first view and appearance. Now it is certain there are certain calm desires and tendencies which though they be real passions produce little emotion in the mind and are more known by their effects than by the immediate feeling or sensation. These desires are of two kinds either certain instincts originally implanted in our natures such as benevolence and resentment the love of life and kindness to children or the general appetite to good and aversion to evil considered merely as such. When any of these passions are calm and cause no disorder in the soul they are very readily taken for the determinations of reason and are supposed to proceed from the same faculty with that which judges of truth and falsehood. Their nature and principles have been supposed the same because their sensations are not evidently different. Beside these calm passions which often determine the will there are certain violent emotions of the same kind which have likewise a great influence on that faculty. When I receive any injury from another I often feel a violent passion of resentment which makes me desire his evil and punishment independent of all considerations of pleasure and advantage to myself. When I am immediately threatened with any grievous ill my fears, apprehensions and aversions rise to a great height and produce a sensible emotion. The common error of metaphysicians has lain in ascribing the direction of the will entirely to one of these principles and supposing the other to have no influence. Men often act knowingly against their interest for which reason the view of the greatest possible good does not always influence them. Men often counteract a violent passion in prosecution of their interests and designs. It is not therefore the present uneasiness alone which determines them. In general we may observe that both these principles operate on the will and where they are contrary that either of them prevails according to the general character or present disposition of the person. What we call strength of mind implies the prevalence of the calm passions above the violent. Though we may easily observe there is no man so constantly possessed of this virtue as never on any occasion to yield to the solicitations of passion and desire. From these variations of temper proceeds the great difficulty of deciding concerning the actions and resolutions of men where there is any contrarity of motives and passions. End of file 27 File 28 of a Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume, volume 2 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by George Yeager Book 2 of the passions Part 3 of the Will and Direct Passions Section 4 of the Causes of the Violent Passions There is not in philosophy a subject of more nice speculation than this of the different causes and effects of the calm and violent passions. It is evident passions influence not the will in proportion to their violence or the disorder they occasion in the temper. But on the contrary that when a passion has once become a settled principle of action and is the predominant inclination of the soul it commonly produces no longer any sensible agitation. As repeated custom and its own force have made everything yield to it it directs the actions and conduct without that opposition and emotion which so naturally attend every momentary gust of passion. We must therefore distinguish betwixt a calm and a weak passion betwixt a violent and a strong one. But not withstanding this it is certain that when we would govern a man and push him to any action it will commonly be better policy to work upon the violent than the calm passions and rather take him by his inclination than what is vulgarly called his reason. We ought to place the object in such particular situations as are proper to increase the violence of the passion for we may observe that all depends upon the situation of the object and that a variation in this particular will be able to change the calm and the violent passions into each other. Both these kinds of passions pursue good and avoid evil and both of them are increased or diminished by the increase or diminution of the good or evil. But herein lies the difference betwixt them. The same good when near will cause a violent passion which when remote produces only a calm one. As this subject belongs very properly to the present question concerning the will we shall here examine it to the bottom and shall consider some of those circumstances and situations of objects which render a passion either calm or violent. It is a remarkable property of human nature that any emotion which attends a passion is easily converted into it though in their natures they be originally different from and even contrary to each other. It is true in order to make a perfect union among passions there is always required a double relation of impressions and ideas nor is one relation sufficient for that purpose. But though this be confirmed by undoubted experience we must understand it with its proper limitations and must regard the double relation as requisite only to make one passion produce another. When two passions are already produced by their separate causes and are both present in the mind they readily mingle and unite though they have but one relation and sometimes without any. The predominant passion swallows up the inferior and converts it into itself. The spirits, when once excited easily receive a change in their direction and it is natural to imagine this change will come from the prevailing affection. The connection is in many respects closer betwixt any two passions than betwixt any passion and indifference. When a person is once heartily in love the little faults and caprice of his mistress the jealousies and quarrels to which that commerce is so subject, however unpleasant and related to anger and hatred are yet found to give additional force to the prevailing passion. It is a common artifice of politicians when they would affect any person very much by a matter of fact of which they intend to inform him first to excite his curiosity, delay as long as possible the satisfying it and by that means raise his anxiety and impatience to the utmost before they give him a full insight into the business. They know that his curiosity will precipitate him into the passion they designed to raise and assist the object in its influence on the mind. A soldier advancing to the battle is naturally inspired with courage and confidence when he thinks on his friends and fellow soldiers and is struck with fear and terror when he reflects on the enemy. Whatever new emotion, therefore, proceeds from the former naturally increases the courage and the same emotion proceeding from the latter augments the fear by the relation of ideas and the conversion of the inferior emotion into the predominant. Hence it is that in martial discipline the uniformity and luster of our habit the regularity of our figures and motions with all the pomp and majesty of war encourage ourselves and allies while the same objects in the enemy strike terror into us though agreeable and beautiful in themselves. Since passions, however independent, are naturally transfused into each other if they are both present at the same time it follows that when good or evil is placed in such a situation as to cause any particular emotion beside its direct passion of desire or aversion that latter passion must acquire new force and violence. This happens among other cases whenever any object excites contrary passions for it is observable that an opposition of passions commonly causes a new emotion in the spirits and produces more disorder than the concurrence of any two affections of equal force. This new emotion is easily converted into the predominant passion and increases its violence beyond the pitch it would have arrived at had it met with no opposition. Hence we naturally desire what is forbid and take a pleasure in performing actions merely because they are unlawful. The notion of duty when opposite to the passions is seldom able to overcome them and when it fails of that effect is apt rather to increase them by producing an opposition in our motives and principles. The same effect follows whether the opposition arises from internal motives or external obstacles. The passion commonly acquires new force and violence in both cases. The efforts which the mind makes to surmount the obstacle excite the spirits and enliven the passion. Uncertainty has the same influence as opposition. The agitation of the thought, the quick turns it makes from one view to another, the variety of passions which succeed each other according to the different views. All these produce an agitation in the mind and transfuse themselves into the predominant passion. There is not, in my opinion, any other natural cause why security diminishes the passions than because it removes that uncertainty which increases them. The mind, when left to itself, immediately languishes and in order to preserve its ardor must be every moment supported by a new flow of passion. For the same reason, despair, though contrary to security, has a like influence. It is certain nothing more powerfully animates any affection than to conceal some part of its object by throwing it into a kind of shade, which at the same time that it shoes enough to pre-possess us in favor of the object leaves still some work for the imagination. Besides that, obscurity is always attended with a kind of uncertainty. The effort which the fancy makes to complete the idea arouses the spirits and gives an additional force to the passion. As despair and security, though contrary to each other, produce the same effects, so absence is observed to have contrary effects and in different circumstances either increases or diminishes our affections. The Duke de la Roche Foucault has very well observed that absence destroys weak passions but increases strong as the wind extinguishes a candle but blows up a fire. Long absence naturally weakens our idea and diminishes the passion. But where the idea is so strong and lively as to support itself, the uneasiness arising from absence increases the passion and gives it new force and violence. End of file 28. File 29 of A Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume, volume 2. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by George Yeager. Book 2 of the passions. Part 3 of the Will and Direct Passions. Section 5 of the Effects of Custom. But nothing has a greater effect both to increase and diminish our passions to convert pleasure into pain and pain into pleasure than custom and repetition. Custom has two original effects upon the mind in bestowing a facility in the performance of any action or the conception of any object and afterwards a tendency or inclination towards it. And from these we may account for all its other effects, however extraordinary. When the soul applies itself to the performance of any action or the conception of any object to which it is not accustomed, there is a certain unplayableness in the faculties and the difficulty of the spirits moving in their new direction. As this difficulty excites the spirits, it is the source of wonder, surprise and of all the emotions which arise from novelty and is in itself very agreeable like everything which enlivens the mind to a moderate degree. But though surprise be agreeable in itself, yet as it puts the spirits in agitation, it not only augments our agreeable affections but also are painful according to the foregoing principle that every emotion which precedes or attends a passion is easily converted into it. Hence everything that is new is most affecting and gives us either more pleasure or pain than what strictly speaking naturally belongs to it. When it often returns upon us, the novelty wears off, the passions subside, the hurry of the spirits is over and we survey the objects with greater tranquility. By degrees the repetition produces a facility which is another very powerful principle of the human mind and an infallible source of pleasure where the facility goes not beyond a certain degree. And here it is remarkable that the pleasure which arises from a moderate facility has not the same tendency with that which arises from novelty to augment the painful as well as the agreeable affections. The pleasure of facility does not so much consist in any ferment of the spirits as in their orderly motion which will sometimes be so powerful as even to convert pain into pleasure and give us a relish in time for what at first was most harsh and disagreeable. But again as facility converts pain into pleasure so it often converts pleasure into pain when it is too great and renders the actions of the mind so faint and languid that they are no longer able to interest and support it. And indeed scarce any other objects become disagreeable through custom but such as are naturally attended with some emotion or affection which is destroyed by the two frequent repetition. One can consider the clouds and heavens and trees and stones however frequently repeated without ever feeling any aversion. But when the fair sex or music or good cheer or anything that naturally ought to be agreeable becomes indifferent it easily produces the opposite affection. But custom not only gives a facility to perform any action but likewise an inclination and tendency towards it where it is not entirely disagreeable and can never be the object of inclination. And this is the reason why custom increases all active habits but diminishes passive according to the observation of a late eminent philosopher. The facility takes off from the force of the passive habits by rendering the motion of the spirits faint and languid but as in the active the spirits are sufficiently supported of themselves the tendency of the mind gives them new force and bends them more strongly to the action. End of File 29 File 30 of a Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume, Volume 2 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by George Yeager Book 2 of the Passions Part 3 of the Will and Direct Passions Section 6 of the Influence of the Imagination on the Passions It is remarkable that the imagination and affections have a close union together and that nothing which affects the former can be entirely indifferent to the latter. Wherever our ideas of good or evil acquire a new vivacity the passions become more violent and keep pace with the imagination in all its variations. Whether this proceeds from the principle above mentioned that any attendant emotion is easily converted into the predominant I shall not determine. It is sufficient for my present purpose that we have many instances to confirm this influence of the imagination upon the passions. Any pleasure with which we are acquainted affects us more than any other which we own to be superior but of whose nature we are wholly ignorant. Of the one we can form a particular and determinant idea the other we conceive under the general notion of pleasure and it is certain that the more general and universal any of our ideas are the less influence they have upon the imagination. A general idea, though it be nothing but a particular one considered in a certain view, is commonly more obscure and that because no particular idea by which we represent a general one is ever fixed or determinant but may easily be changed for other particular ones which will serve equally in the representation. There is a noted passage in the history of Greece which may serve for our present purpose. Themistocles told the Athenians that he had formed a design which would be highly useful to the public but which it was impossible for him to communicate to them without ruining the execution since its success depended entirely on the secrecy with which it should be conducted. The Athenians, instead of granting him full power to act as he thought fitting, ordered him to communicate his design to Aristides in whose prudence they had an entire confidence and whose opinion they were resolved blindly to submit to. The design of Themistocles was secretly to set fire to the fleet of all the Grecian Commonwealths which was assembled in a neighboring port in which being once destroyed would give the Athenians the Empire of the Sea without any rival. Aristides returned to the assembly and told him that nothing could be more advantageous than the design of Themistocles but at the same time that nothing could be more unjust upon which the people unanimously rejected the project. A late celebrated historian, Footnote 1, Monsieur Roland and of Footnote 1 admires this passage of ancient history as one of the most singular that is anywhere to be met with. Here says he, they are not philosophers to whom it is easy in their schools to establish the finest maxims and most sublime rules of morality who decide that interest ought never to prevail above justice. It is a whole people interested in the proposal which is made to them who consider it as of importance to the public good and who not withstanding reject it unanimously and without hesitation merely because it is contrary to justice. For my part I see nothing so extraordinary in this proceeding of the Athenians. The same reasons which render it so easy for philosophers to establish these sublime maxims tend in part to diminish the merit of such a conduct in that people. Philosophers never balance betwixt profit and honesty because their decisions are general and neither their passions nor imaginations are interested in the objects. And though in the present case the advantage was immediate to the Athenians yet as it was known only under the general notion of advantage without being conceived by any particular idea it must have had a less considerable influence on their imaginations and have been a less violent temptation than if they had been acquainted with all its circumstances. Otherwise it is difficult to conceive that a whole people, unjust and violent as men commonly are, should so unanimously have adhered to justice and rejected any considerable advantage. Any satisfaction which we lately enjoyed and of which the memory is fresh and recent operates on the will with more violence than another of which the traces are decayed and almost obliterated. From whence does this proceed but that the memory in the first case assists the fancy and gives an additional force and vigor to its conceptions. The image of the past pleasure being strong and violent bestows these qualities on the idea of the future pleasure which is connected with it by the relation of resemblance. A pleasure which is suitable to the way of life in which we are engaged excites more our desires and appetites than another which is foreign to it. This phenomenon may be explained from the same principle. Nothing is more capable of infusing any passion into the mind than eloquence by which objects are represented in their strongest and most lively colors. We may of ourselves acknowledge that such an object is valuable and such another odious but until an orator excites the imagination and gives force to these ideas they may have but a feeble influence either on the will or the affections. But eloquence is not always necessary. The bare opinion of another especially when enforced with passion will cause an idea of good or evil to have an influence upon us which would otherwise have been entirely neglected. This proceeds from the principle of sympathy or communication and sympathy as I have already observed is nothing but the conversion of an idea into an impression by the force of imagination. It is remarkable that lively passions commonly attend a lively imagination. In this respect as well as others the force of the passion depends as much on the temper of the person as the nature or situation of the object. I have already observed that belief is nothing but a lively idea related to a present impression. This vivacity is a requisite circumstance to the exciting all our passions the calm as well as the violent nor has a mere fiction of the imagination any considerable influence upon either of them. It is too weak to take any hold of the mind or be attended with emotion. End of file 30.