liarly pleased with any thing, that confirms
the good opinion we have of ourselves, and are easily shocked with
whatever opposes it.

All this appears very probable in theory; but in order to bestow a
full certainty on this reasoning, we must examine the phaenonena of the
passions, and see if they agree with it.

Among these phaenomena we may esteem it a very favourable one to our
present purposes that though fame in general be agreeable, yet we
receive a much greater satisfaction from the approbation of those, whom
we ourselves esteem and approve of, than of those, whom we hate and
despise. In like measure we are principally mortifyed with the contempt
of persons, upon whose judgment we set some value, and are, in a peat
measure, indifferent about the opinions of the rest of mankind. But
if the mind received from any original instinct a desire of fame
and aversion to infamy, fame and infamy would influence us without
distinction; and every opinion, according as it were favourabk or
unfavourable, would equally excite that desire or aversion. The judgment
of a fool is the judgment of another person, as well as that of a wise
man, and is only inferior in its influence on our own judgment.

We are not only better pleased with the approbation of a wise man than
with that of a fool, but receive an additional satisfaction from the
former, when it is obtained after a long and intimate acquaintance. This
is accounted for after the same manner.

The praises of others never give us much pleasure, unless they concur
with our own opinion, and extol us for those qualities, in which we
chiefly excel. A mere soldier little values the character of eloquence:
A gownman of courage: A bishop of humour: Or a merchant of learning.
Whatever esteem a man may have for any quality, abstractedly considered;
when he is conscious he is not possest of it; the opinions of the whole
world will give him little pleasure in that particular, and that because
they never will be able to draw his own opinion after them.

Nothing is more usual than for men of good families, but narrow
circumstances, to leave their friends and country, and rather seek their
livelihood by mean and mechanical employments among strangers, than
among those, who are acquainted with their birth and education. We shall
be unknown, say they, where we go. No body will suspect from what
family we are sprung. We shall be removed from all our friends and
acquaintance, and our povert