s true, when the cause is compleat, and a good disposition is
attended with good fortune, which renders it really beneficial to
society, it gives a stronger pleasure to the spectator, and is attended
with a more lively sympathy. We are more affected by it; and yet we do
not say that it is more virtuous, or that we esteem it more. We know,
that an alteration of fortune may render the benevolent disposition
entirely impotent; and therefore we separate, as much as possible, the
fortune from the disposition. The case is the same, as when we correct
the different sentiments of virtue, which proceed from its different
distances from ourselves. The passions do not always follow our
corrections; but these corrections serve sufficiently to regulate our
abstract notions, and are alone regarded, when we pronounce in general
concerning the degrees of vice and virtue.

It is observed by critics, that all words or sentences, which are
difficult to the pronunciation, are disagreeable to the ear. There is no
difference, whether a man hear them pronounced, or read them silently
to himself. When I run over a book with my eye, I Imagine I hear it all;
and also, by the force of imagination, enter into the uneasiness, which
the delivery of it would give the speaker. The uneasiness is not real;
but as such a composition of words has a natural tendency to produce
it, this is sufficient to affect the mind with a painful sentiment, and
render the discourse harsh and disagreeable. It is a similar case, where
any real quality is, by accidental circumstances, rendered impotent, and
is deprived of its natural influence on society.

Upon these principles we may easily remove any contradiction, which may
appear to be betwixt the extensive sympathy, on which our sentiments
of virtue depend, and that limited generosity which I have frequently
observed to be natural to men, and which justice and property suppose,
according to the precedent reasoning. My sympathy with another may
give me the sentiment of pain and disapprobation, when any object is
presented, that has a tendency to give him uneasiness; though I may not
be willing to sacrifice any thing of my own interest, or cross any of
my passions, for his satisfaction. A house may displease me by being
ill-contrived for the convenience of the owner; and yet I may refuse to
give a shilling towards the rebuilding of it. Sentiments must touch
the heart, to make them controul our passions: But they need no