any object distant from
ourselves, we are obliged not only to reach it at first by passing
through all the intermediate space betwixt ourselves and the object, but
also to renew our progress every moment; being every moment recalled to
the consideration of ourselves and our present situation. It is easily
conceived, that this interruption must weaken the idea by breaking the
action of the mind, and hindering the conception from being so intense
and continued, as when we reflect on a nearer object. The fewer steps
we make to arrive at the object, and the smoother the road is, this
diminution of vivacity is less sensibly felt, but still may be observed
more or less in proportion to the degrees of distance and difficulty.

Here then we are to consider two kinds of objects, the contiguous and
remote; of which the former, by means of their relation to ourselves,
approach an impression in force and vivacity; the latter by reason of
the interruption in our manner of conceiving them, appear in a weaker
and more imperfect light. This is their effect on the imagination. If
my reasoning be just, they must have a proportionable effect on the will
and passions. Contiguous objects must have an influence much superior to
the distant and remote. Accordingly we find in common life, that men are
principally concerned about those objects, which are not much removed
either in space or time, enjoying the present, and leaving what is afar
off to the care of chance and fortune. Talk to a man of his condition
thirty years hence, and he will not regard you. Speak of what is to
happen tomorrow, and he will lend you attention. The breaking of a
mirror gives us more concern when at home, than the burning of a house,
when abroad, and some hundred leagues distant.

But farther; though distance both in space and time has a considerable
effect on the imagination, and by that means on the will and passions,
yet the consequence of a removal in space are much inferior to those of
a removal in time. Twenty years are certainly but a small distance
of time in comparison of what history and even the memory of some may
inform them of, and yet I doubt if a thousand leagues, or even the
greatest distance of place this globe can admit of, will so remarkably
weaken our ideas, and diminish our passions. A West-Indian merchant will
tell you, that he is not without concern about what passes in Jamaica;
though few extend their views so far into futurity, as to dread