Sympathy not to be traced to Self-love as its Origin.—The question has arisen, whether sympathy, which, of all the sensibilities, would seem to lie at the furthest remove from all admixture of selfishness, is not, after all, to be traced ultimately to the principle of self-love. Those philosophers who regard this principle as the main-spring of all human action, and the parent source of all the various emotions that agitate the human heart, are at some pains to show that even the feeling of pity may be traced to the same origin. It was the theory of Hobbes, that the sentiment of pity at the calamities of others springs from the imagination, or fiction as he terms it, of a similar calamity befalling ourselves. Adam Smith also maintains that it is only from our own experience that we can form any idea of the sufferings of others, and that the way in which we form such an idea is by supposing ourselves in the same circumstances with the sufferer, and then conceiving how we should be affected. All this is very true. It is in this way, doubtless, that we get the idea of what another is suffering. But the idea of what he suffers is one thing, and our sympathy with that suffering is another. One is a conception, and the other is the feeling awakened by that conception. Moreover, it does not follow, as Mr. Stewart has well shown in his criticism upon this theory, that the sympathy in this case arises from our conceiving or believing, for the moment, those sufferings to be really our own. The feeling which arises on the contemplation of our own real or fancied distress, is quite another feeling in its character, from that of pity or compassion. The two emotions are readily distinguished. The mere uneasiness which we feel at the sight of another's suffering, and the desire which we naturally feel to be rid of that uneasiness, are not the chief elements in compassion. If they were, the sure and simple remedy would be to run away from the distress which occasions the uneasiness, to put it as quickly as possible out of sight and out of mind. Such an emotion; prompting to such a course, might well be termed selfish. But this is not the true nature of sympathy. It is not a mere unpleasant sensation produced by observing the sufferings of another, though such a sensation, doubtless, is produced in a sensitive mind, and accompanies, or may even be said to form a part of, the emotion which we term sympathy; there is, over and above this feeling of uneasiness, a fellowship of sorrow and of suffering, a bearing of that suffering with him, as his, and not as our own, a pain for him, and not for ourselves, the result and urgent prompting of which is the impulse, the strong irrepressible desire to relieve, not ourselves from uneasiness, but the sufferer from that which occasions his distress.
What follows from this Theory.—If compassion for others were the offspring of fear for ourselves, then, as Butler has well said, the most fearful natures ought to be the most compassionate, which is far from being the case. It may be added, also, that if sympathy is, in any respect, a selfish principle, then they who are most completely and habitually governed by selfish considerations ought, for the same reason, to be the most keenly alive to the sufferings of others, which is little less than a contradiction in terms.
CHAPTER II.
RATIONAL EMOTIONS.
§ I.—Emotions of Joy or Sadness arising from the Contemplation of our own Excellence or the Reverse.
Nature and Objects of this Emotion.—Among those susceptibilities which, while implanted in our nature, and springing into exercise by their own spontaneous energy, imply in their operation the exercise of the reflective powers, and in general, of the higher intellectual faculties, and which on that account, we designate as rational, in distinction from the instinctive emotions, a prominent place is due to those vivid feelings of pleasure, and pain, with which we contemplate any real or supposed excellence, or defect, in ourselves. The direct object of the emotions now under consideration, is self in some form or aspect. The immediate cause of these emotions is some real or fancied excellence which we possess, or, on the other hand, some real or imagined deficiency. This excellence or deficiency may pertain to our intellectual or to our moral qualities and attainments, or even to our circumstances and condition in life, to any thing, in short, which is ours, and which distinguishes us from our fellows. The quality contemplated may be a real possession and attainment, or it may exist only in our imagination and conceit. And so, also, of the defect; that, too, may be real, or imaginary. In either case, vivid feelings are awakened in the mind. It is impossible to contemplate ourselves either as possessing or as lacking any desirable quality without emotion, pleasing or painful, and that in a high degree.
In what Manner awakened.—These emotions are awakened in either of two ways: by the simple contemplation of the supposed excellence, or defect, in themselves considered as pertaining to us; or, more frequently, by the comparison of ourselves with others in these respects. It is to the feelings awakened, in the latter case, by the perceived superiority or inferiority of ourselves to others, as the result of such comparison, that the terms pride and humility are ordinarily applied. These terms are relative, and imply, always, some process of comparison. There may be, however, the painful consciousness of defect, or the pleasing consciousness of some high and noble attainment, when the relation which we sustain to others, as regards these points, forms no part of the object of contemplation. The comparison is not of ourselves with others, but only of our present with our former selves. We are satisfied and delighted at our own progress and improvement, or humbled and cast down at our repeated failure, and manifest deficiency.
Not the same with moral Emotion.—The emotions now under consideration must not be confounded with the satisfaction which arises in view of moral worthiness, and the regret and disapprobation with which we view our past conduct as morally wrong. The emotions of which we now speak, are not of the nature of moral emotion, however closely allied in some respects. It is not the verdict of an approving or condemning conscience that awakens them. They have no reference to the right as such. The object is viewed, not in the light of obligation or duty, but merely as a good, a thing agreeable and desirable. Thus viewed, its possession gives us pleasure, its absence, pain.