Since then those principles of sympathy, and a comparison with ourselves, are directly contrary, it may be worth while to consider, what general rules can be formed, beside the particular temper of the person, for the prevalence of the one or the other.  Suppose I am now in safety at land, and would willingly reap some pleasure from this consideration:  I must think on the miserable condition of those who are at sea in a storm, and must endeavour to render this idea as strong and lively as possible, in order to make me more sensible of my own happiness.  But whatever pains I may take, the comparison will never have an equal efficacy, as if I were really on the shore [Footnote 26], and saw a ship at a distance tossed by a tempest, and in danger every moment of perishing on a rock or sand-bank.  But suppose this idea to become still more lively.  Suppose the ship to be driven so near me, that I can perceive distinctly the horror, painted on the countenance of the seamen and passengers, hear their lamentable cries, see the dearest friends give their last adieu, or embrace with a resolution to perish in each others arms:  No man has so savage a heart as to reap any pleasure from such a spectacle, or withstand the motions of the tenderest compassion and sympathy.  It is evident, therefore, there is a medium in this case; and that if the idea be too feint, it has no influence by comparison; and on the other hand, if it be too strong, it operates on us entirely by sympathy, which is the contrary to comparison.  Sympathy being the conversion of an idea into an impression, demands a greater force and vivacity in the idea than is requisite to comparison.

[Footnote 26
Suave mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis
E terra magnum alterius spectare laborem;
Non quia vexari quenquam eat jucunda voluptas,
Sed quibus ipse malls caress qula cernere sauv’ est.  LUCRET.

(There is something pleasant in watching, from dry land, the great difficulties another man is undergoing out on the high sea, with the winds lashing the waters.  This is not because one derives delight from any man’s distress, but because it is pleasurable to perceive from what troubles one is oneself free.)]

All this is easily applied to the present subject.  We sink very much in our own eyes, when in the presence of a great man, or one of a superior genius; and this humility makes a considerable ingredient in that respect, which we pay our superiors, according to our foregoing reasonings on that passion [Book II.  Part II.  Sect.  X.].  Sometimes even envy and hatred arise from the comparison; but in the greatest part of men, it rests at respect and esteem.  As sympathy has such a powerful influence on the human mind, it causes pride to have, in some measure, the same effect as merit; and by making us enter into those elevated sentiments, which the proud man entertains of himself, presents that comparison, which is so mortifying and disagreeable.  Our judgment does not entirely accompany