The Theory of Moral Sentiments: Or, an Essay Towards an Analysis of the Principles by Which Men Naturally Judge Concerning the Conduct and Character, First of Their Neighbours, and Afterwards of Themselves. to Which Is Added, a Dissertation on the Origin of Languages.Smith, Adam
Philosophy
The Theory of Moral Sentiments: Or, an Essay Towards an Analysis of the Principles by Which Men Naturally Judge Concerning the Conduct and Character, First of Their Neighbours, and Afterwards of Themselves. to Which Is Added, a Dissertation on the Origin of Languages.
Smith, Adam
Ethics -- Early works to 1800; Language and languages -- Early works to 1800
How hearty are the acclamations of the mob, who never bear any envy to
their superiors, at a triumph or a public entry? And how sedate and
moderate is commonly their grief at an execution? Our sorrow at a
funeral generally amounts to no more than affected gravity; but our
mirth at a christening or a marriage, is always from the heart, and
without any affectation. Upon these, and all such joyous occasions, our
satisfaction, though not so durable, is often as lively as that of the
persons principally concerned. Whenever we cordially congratulate our
friends, which, however, to the disgrace of human nature, we do but
seldom, their joy literally becomes our joy: we are for the moment, as
happy as they are: our heart swells and overflows with real pleasure:
joy and complacency sparkle from our eyes, and animate every feature of
our countenance, and every gesture of our body.
But, on the contrary, when we condole with our friends in their
afflictions, how little do we feel, in comparison of what they feel? We
sit down by them, we look at them, and while they relate to us the
circumstances of their misfortune, we listen to them with gravity and
attention. But while their narration is every moment interrupted by
those natural bursts of passion which often seem almost to choak them in
the midst of it; how far are the languid emotions of our hearts from
keeping time to the transports of theirs? We may be sensible, at the
same time, that their passion is natural, and no greater than what we
ourselves might feel upon the like occasion. We may even inwardly
reproach ourselves with our own want of sensibility, and perhaps on that
account, work ourselves up into an artificial sympathy, which, however,
when it is raised, is always the slightest and most transitory
imaginable; and generally, as soon as we have left the room, vanishes,
and is gone for ever. Nature, it seems, when she has loaded us with our
own sorrows, thought that they were enough, and therefore did not
command us to take any further share in those of others, than what was
necessary to prompt us to relieve them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account