seems to be the very same, it has by no means the same force, in the one case as in the other...

Odnośniki

Smutek to uczucie, jak gdyby się tonęło, jak gdyby grzebano cię w ziemi.

For, first, tis evident, that under the term pleasure,
we comprehend sensations, which are very different from each other,
and which have only such a distant resemblance, as is requisite to make
them be express'd by the same abstract term. A good composition of
music and a bottle of good wine equally produce pleasure; and what is
more, their goodness is determin'd merely by the pleasure. But shall we
say upon that account, that the wine is harmonious, or the music of a
good flavour? In like manner an inanimate object, and the character or
sentiments of any person may, both of them, give satisfaction; but as the
satisfaction is different, this keeps our sentiments concerning them from
being confounded, and makes us ascribe virtue to the one, and not to the
other. Nor is every sentiment of pleasure or pain, which arises from
characters and actions, of that peculiar kind, which makes us praise or
condemn. The good qualities of an enemy are hurtful to us; but may still
command our esteem and respect. `Tis only when a character is
considered in general, without reference to our particular interest, that it
causes such a feeling or sentiment, as denominates it morally good or
evil. `Tis true, those sentiments, from interest and morals, are apt to be
confounded, and naturally run into one another. It seldom happens, that
we do not think an enemy vicious, and can distinguish betwixt his
opposition to our interest and real villainy or baseness. But this hinders
not, but that the sentiments are, in themselves, distinct; and a man of
temper and judgment may preserve himself from these illusions. In like
manner, tho' `tis certain a musical voice is nothing but one that naturally
gives a particular kind of pleasure; yet `tis difficult for a man to be
sensible, that the voice of an enemy is agreeable, or to allow it to be
musical. But a person of a fine ear, who has the command of himself,
can separate these feelings, and give praise to what deserves it.
Secondly, We may call to remembrance the preceding system of the
passions, in order to remark a still more considerable difference among
our pains and pleasures. Pride and humility, love and hatred are excited,
when there is any thing presented to us, that both bears a relation to the
object of the passion, and produces a separate sensation related to the
sensation of the passion. Now virtue and vice are attended with these
circumstances. They must necessarily be plac'd either in ourselves or
others, and excite either pleasure or uneasiness; and therefore must give
rise to one of these four passions; which clearly distinguishes them from
the pleasure and pain arising from inanimate objects, that often bear no
relation to us: And this is, perhaps, the most considerable effect that
virtue and vice have upon the human mind.
It may now be ask'd in general, concerning this pain or pleasure, that
distinguishes moral good and evil, From what principles is it derived ,
and whence does it arise in the human mind? To this I reply, first, that
`tis absurd to imagine, that in every particular instance, these sentiments
are produc'd by an original quality and primary constitution. For as the
number of our duties is, in a manner, infinite, `tis impossible that our
original instincts should extend to each of them, and from our very first
infancy impress on the human mind all that multitude of precepts,
which are contain'd in the compleatest system of ethics. Such a method
of proceeding is not conformable to the usual maxims, by which nature
is conducted, where a few principles produce all that variety we observe
in the universe, and every thing is carry'd on in the easiest and most
simple manner. `Tis necessary, therefore, to abridge these primary
impulses, and find some more general principles, upon which all our
notions of morals are founded.
But in the second place, should it be ask'd, Whether we ought to search
for these principles in nature, or whether we must look for them in some
other origin? I wou'd reply, that our answer to this question depends
upon the definition of the word, Nature, than which there is none more
ambiguous and equivocal. If nature be oppos'd to miracles, not only the
distinction betwixt vice and virtue is natural, but also every event, which
has ever happen'd in the world, excepting those miracles, on which our
religion is founded. In saying, then, that the sentiments of vice and virtue
are natural in this sense, we make no very extraordinary discovery.
But nature may also be opposed to rare and unusual; and in this sense of
the word, which is the common one, there may often arise disputes
concerning what is natural or unnatural; and one may in general affirm,
that we are not possess'd of any very precise standard, by which these
disputes can be decided. Frequent and rare depend upon the number of
examples we have observ'd; and as this number may gradually encrease
or diminish, `twill be impossible to fix any exact boundaries betwixt
them. We may only affirm on this head, that if ever there was any thing,
which cou'd be call'd natural in this sense, the sentiments of morality
certainly may; since there never was any nation of the world, nor any
single person in any nation, who was utterly depriv'd of them, and who
never, in any instance, shew'd the least approbation or dislike of
manners. These sentiments are so rooted in our constitution and temper,
that without entirely confounding the human mind by disease or
madness, `tis impossible to extirpate and destroy them.
But nature may also be opposed to artifice, as well as to what is rare and
unusual; and in this sense it may be disputed, whether the notions of
virtue be natural or not. We readily forget, that the designs, and projects,
and views of men are principles as necessary in their operation as heat
and cold, moist and dry: But taking them to be free and entirely our own,
`tis usual for us to set them in opposition to the other principles of
nature. Shou'd it, therefore, be demanded, whether the sense of virtue be
natural or artificial, I am of opinion, that `tis impossible for me at present
to give any precise answer to this question. Perhaps it will appear
afterwards, that our sense of some virtues is artificial, and that of others
natural. The discussion of this question will be more proper, when we
enter upon an exact detail of each particular vice and virtue.(4)
Mean while it may not be amiss to observe from these definitions of
natural and unnatural, that nothing can be more unphilosophical than
those systems, which assert, that virtue is the same with what is natural,
and vice with what is unnatural. For in the first sense of the word,