(I)

THE

MONTHLY REVIEW,

For JULY, 1759.

The Theory of Moral Sentiments. By Adam Smith, Profeffor of Moral Philofophy, in the University of Glasgow. 8vo. 6s.

Millar.

O

F all the various enquiries that have exercised the thoughts of fpeculative men, there are fcarce any which afford more genuine or lafting pleasure, to

perfons of a truly liberal and inquifitive turn, than thofe which have MAN for their object. Indeed, what can be more worthy to be ftudied, and diftinctly known?" what can be nearer, what more important to man, than man?' If we furvey only the human body, which is the mere fhell and tenement of man, we fhall find it moft curiously wrought. All its parts, even those of the minutest and fineft texture, though crowded together in one small system, and variously dis-. posed and intermingled with each other, are, as to their offices and operations, preferved diftinct, and without the leaft confufion. Every member, every organ, every fenfe, has its peculiar functions, which it difcharges in harmony with all the reft, and confpires to one great end of general nutrition, health, vigour, the preservation of life, and the due exercife of the fublime mental powers. But if we take a view of the effential and more noble principles of the human conftitution; if we confider man's internal frame, and look into the make of his mind, his powers of reafon, his moral faculties, his implanted focial inftincts, and benevolent propenfions, which are the things that most honourably diftinguish and mark out huVOL. XXI. manity,

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manity, a brighter scene of wisdom will open upon us, and we fhall behold the strongest characters, the moft refplendent marks of the confummate wifdom of the original parent mind, the eternal source of perfection, life, and blessedness.

Those Writers, therefore, who lay our internal constitution open to our view, and point out the mutual connections, de< pendencies, and relations of the feveral powers, inftincts, and propenfities of the human mind, are certainly entitled to a favourable reception from the public. In an age like the prefent, indeed, wherein literary productions are, in general, no farther regarded than as they are calculated to amufe and entertain, fuch Writers muft expect to have but few Readers; and if they endeavour to introduce any hew Tyftem, the prejudices even of thofe few, in favour of their own notions, will prevent their beftowing any confiderable degree of attention. upon what is advanced in oppofition to them. The Author of the work now before us, however, bids fairer for a favourable hearing than most other moral Writers; his language is always perfpicuous and forcible, and often elegant; his illuftrations are beautiful and pertinent; and his manner lively and entertaining. Even the fuperficial and carelefs Reader, though incapable of forming a juft judgment of our Author's fyftem, and entering into his peculiar notions, will be pleased with his agreeable manner of illuftrating his argument, by the frequent a peals he makes to fact and experience; and those who are judges of the fubject, whatever opinion they may entertain of his peculiar fentiments, muft, if they have any pretensions to candor, readily allow, that he has fupported them with a great deal of ingenuity.

The principle of Sympathy, on which he founds his fyftem, is an unquestionable principle in human nature; but whether his reafonings upon it are just and fatisfactory or not, we fhall not take upon us to pronounce: it is fufficient to fay, that they are extremely ingenious and plaufible. He is, befides, a nice and delicate obferver of human nature; feems well acquainted with the fyftems both of antient and modern moralifts; and poffeffes the happy talent of treating the moft intricate fubjects not only with perfpicuity but with elegance. We now proceed to give some account of what he has advanced.

He fets out with obferving, that how selfish foever man may be fuppofed, there are evidently fome principles in his nature, which intereft him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness neceffary to him, though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of fecing it. • Of this kind,' fays he, is pity, or compaffion, the emotion which we feel for the mifery of others, when we either fee it, or are made to con

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ceive it in a very lively manner. That we often derive for row from the forrow of others, is too obvious to require any inftances to prove it for this fentiment, like all the other original paffions of human nature, is by no means confined to the virtuous and humane, though they perhaps may feel it * with the most exquifite fenfibility. The greateft ruffian, the moft-hardened violator of the laws of fociety, is not altoge *ther without it.

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As we have no immediate experience of what other men feel, we can form no idea of the manner in which they are ▾ affected, but by conceiving what we ourselves should feel in the like fituation. Though our brother is upon the rack, as long as we are at our ease, our fenfes will never inform us of what he fuffers. They never did and never can carry us beyond our own perfons, and it is by the imagination only, that we can form any conception of what are his fenfations. Neither can that faculty help us to this any other way, than by representing to us what would be our own, if we were in his cafe. It is the impreffions of our own senses only, not thofe of his, which our imaginations copy. By the imagination we place ourselves in his situation, we con*ceive ourselves enduring all the fame torments, we enter as it were into his body, and become in fome measure him, and thence form fome idea of his fenfations, and even feel fomething which, though weaker in degree, is not altogether unlike them. His agonies, when they are thus brought home to ourselves, when we have thus adopted and made them our own, begin at last to affect us, and we then tremble and 'fhudder at the thought of what he feels. For as to be in pain or diftrefs of any kind excites the most exceffive forrow, *fo to conceive or to imagine that we are in it, excites fome degree of the fame emotion, in proportion to the vivacity or dulnefs of the conception.

That this is the fource of our fellow-feeling for the mifery of others, that it is by changing places in fancy with the sufferer, that we come either to conceive or to be affected by what he feels, may be demonftrated by many obvious obfervations, if it should not be thought fufficiently evident of itself. When we fee a ftroke aimed, and juft ready to fall upon the leg or arm of another perfon, we naturally fhrink ⚫ and draw back our own leg, or our own arm; and when it does fall, we feel it in fome meafure, and are hurt by it as "well as the fufferer. The mob, when they are, gazing at a dancer on the flack rope, naturally writhe and twist and balance their own bodies, as they fee him do, and as they feel that they themfelves must do in his fituation. Perfens Ba of

of delicate fibres and a weak conftitution of body, complain that in looking on the fores and ulcers that are expofed by beggars in the streets, they are apt to feel an itching, or uneafy fenfation, in the correspondent part of their own bodies. The horror which they conceive at the mifery of those • wretches, affects that particular part in themfelves more than any other; because that horror arifes from conceiving what they themfelves would fuffer, if they really were the wretches whom they are looking upon, and if that particular part in themfelves was actually affected in the fame miferable manner. The very force of this conception is fufficient, in their feeble frames, to produce that itching or uneafy fenfation complained of. Men of the moft robust make obferve, that in looking upon fore eyes, they often feel a very fenfible foreness in their own, which proceeds from the fame reafon; that organ being, in the strongest man, more delicate than any other part of the body is in the weakest.

tator.

Neither is it thofe circumftances only, which create pain C or forrow, that call forth our fellow-feeling. Whatever is the paffion which arifes from any object in the perfon principally concerned, an analagous emotion fprings up, at the thought of his fituation, in the breaft of every attentive specOur joy for the deliverance of thofe heroes of tragedy or romance, who intereft us, is as fincere as 'our grief for their diftrefs; and our fellow-feeling with their mifery is not more real than that with their happiness. We enter into their gratitude towards thofe faithful friends who did not defert them in their difficulties; and we heartily go along with their refentment against those perfidious traitors who injured, abandoned, or deceived them. In every paffion of which the mind of man is fufceptible, the emotions of the by-ftander always correfpond to what, by bringing the cafe home to himself, he imagines fhould be the fentiments of the fufferer.

Pity and compaffion are words appropriated to fignify our fellow-feeling with the forrow of others. Sympathy, though its meaning was, perhaps, originally the fame, may now, however, without much impropriety, be made ufe of to denote our fellow-feeling with any paffion whatever.'

Whatever may be the caufe of fympathy, or however it "may be excited, our Author goes on to obferve, that nothing pleafes us more, than to find in other men, a fellow-feeling with all the emotions of our own breafts; and that we are I never fo much fhocked, as by the appearance of the contrary. A man is mortified when, after having endeavoured to divert

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the company, he looks round and fecs that no body laughs at his jefts but himself. On the contrary, the mirth of the company is highly agreeable to him, and he regards this correfpondence of their fentiments with his own, as the greatest applause.

As the perfon who is principally interested in any event is pleased with our fympathy, and hurt by the want of it, fo we, too, feem to be pleafed when we are able to fympathize with him, and to be hurt when we are unable to do fo. We run not only to congratulate the fuccefsful, but to condole with the afflicted; and the pleafure which we find in converfing with a man whom we can entirely fympathize with in all his paffions, seems to do more than compenfate the painfulness of that forrow, with which the view of his fituation affected us. On the contrary, it is always difagiceable to feel that we cannot fympathize with him, and instead of being pleased with this exemption from fympathetic pain, it hurts us to find that we cannot fhare his uneafinefs.

When the original paffions of the perfon principally concerned are in perfect concord with the fympathetic emotions of the spectator, they neceffarily appear to this laft, just and proper, our Author fays, and fuitable to their objects; and, on the contrary, when, upon bringing the cafe home to himself, he finds that they do not coincide with what he feels, they neceffarily appear to him unjuft and improper, and unfuitable to the causes which excite them.

To approve of the paffions of another,' therefore, continues he, as fuitable to their objects, is the fame thing, as to • obferve that we entirely fympathize with them; and not to approve of them as fuch, is the fame thing as to obferve that we do not entirely fympathize with them. The man who resents the injuries that have been done to me, and obferves that I refent them precifely as he does, neceffarily approves of my refentment. refentment. The man whofe fympathy keeps time to my grief, cannot but adrait the reasonablenefs of my forrow. He who admires the fame poem, or the fame picture, ⚫ and admires them exactly as I do, muft furely allow the juftnefs of my admiration. He who laughs at the fame joke, and laughs along with me, cannot well deny the propriety of my laughter. On the contrary, the perfon who, upon thefe different occafions, either feels no fuch emotion as that which I feel, or feels none that bears any proportion to mine, cannot avoid difapproving my fentiments, on account of their diffonance with his own. If my animofity goes beyond what the indignation of my friend can correfpond to; if my grief exceeds what his moft tender compaffion can