ions and sentiments of others. In order to account
for this phaenomenon it will be necessary to take some compass, and
first explain the nature of sympathy.

No quality of human nature is more remarkable, both in itself and in its
consequences, than that propensity we have to sympathize with others,
and to receive by communication their inclinations and sentiments,
however different from, or even contrary to our own. This is not only
conspicuous in children, who implicitly embrace every opinion proposed
to them; but also in men of the greatest judgment and understanding,
who find it very difficult to follow their own reason or inclination,
in opposition to that of their friends and daily companions. To this
principle we ought to ascribe the great uniformity we may observe in the
humours and turn of thinking of those of the same nation; and it is much
more probable, that this resemblance arises from sympathy, than from
any influence of the soil and climate, which, though they continue
invariably the same, are not able to preserve the character of a nation
the same for a century together. A good-natured man finds himself in an
instant of the same humour with his company; and even the proudest and
most surly take a tincture from their countrymen and acquaintance. A
chearful countenance infuses a sensible complacency and serenity into my
mind; as an angry or sorrowful one throws a sudden dump upon me. Hatred,
resentment, esteem, love, courage, mirth and melancholy; all these
passions I feel more from communication than from my own natural temper
and disposition. So remarkable a phaenomenon merits our attention, and
must be traced up to its first principles.

When any affection is infused by sympathy, it is at first known only
by its effects, and by those external signs in the countenance and
conversation, which convey an idea of it. This idea is presently
converted into an impression, and acquires such a degree of force and
vivacity, as to become the very passion itself, and produce an equal
emotion, as any original affection. However instantaneous this change of
the idea into an impression may be, it proceeds from certain views
and reflections, which will not escape the strict scrutiny of a.
philosopher, though they may the person himself, who makes them.

It is evident, that the idea, or rather impression of ourselves is
always intimately present with us, and that our consciousness gives us
so lively a conception of our