eak in the ideas,
breaks the progress of the affections, and hinders the one from
influencing or contradicting the other?

An heroic and burlesque design, united in one picture, would be
monstrous; though we place two pictures of so opposite a character in
the same chamber, and even close by each other, without any scruple or
difficulty.

In a word, no ideas can affect each other, either by comparison, or by
the passions they separately produce, unless they be united together
by some relation, which may cause an easy transition of the ideas, and
consequently of the emotions or impressions, attending the ideas; and
may preserve the one impression in the passage of the imagination to the
object of the other. This principle is very remarkable, because it is
analogous to what we have observed both concerning the understanding and
the passions. Suppose two objects to be presented to me, which are not
connected by any kind of relation. Suppose that each of these objects
separately produces a passion; and that these two passions are in
themselves contrary: We find from experience, that the want of relation
in the objects or ideas hinders the natural contrariety of the passions,
and that the break in the transition of the thought removes the
affections from each other, and prevents their opposition. It is the
same case with comparison; and from both these phaenomena we may safely
conclude, that the relation of ideas must forward the transition of
impressions; since its absence alone is able to prevent it, and to
separate what naturally should have operated upon each other. When the
absence of an object or quality re moves any usual or natural effect, we
may certalnly conclude that its presence contributes to the production
of the effect.

SECT. IX OF THE MIXTURE OF BENEVOLENCE AND ANGER WITH COMPASSION AND MALICE

Thus we have endeavoured to account for pity and malice. Both these
affections arise from the imagination, according to the light, in which
it places its object. When our fancy considers directly the sentiments
of others, and enters deep into them, it makes us sensible of all the
passions it surveys, but in a particular manner of grief or sorrow. On
the contrary, when we compare the sentiments of others to our own, we
feel a sensation directly opposite to the original one, viz. a joy from
the grief of others, and a grief from their joy. But these are only the
first foundations of the affections of pity and