SERIOUS Confiderations on the 167 RECUEIL nouveau des Pieces, SHORT Obfervations on Sack- 367 ville's Addrefs to the Public, 85 SINGLE Sermons, 88, 184, 272, SMITH, Adam, his Theory of REMAINS of the Greek Elegiac I mains, 171 THYER'S Edition of Butler's Re TIMES, an Epiftle to Flavian, WARNING 354 TRAGI-Comic Dialogue, 181 WESTON'S Safety and Perpetuity of the British State, 455 W. ARNING to the World, 356 129 268 Juft Published, Price 1 s. 6d. The LONDON POCKET MEMORANDUM BOOK for the Year 1760. CONTAINING, I. A COMPENDIOUS MEMORANDUM BOOK, properly divided to answer the moft common Purposes in Bufinefs, for every Day through the Year. After which follow feveral useful Tables; particularly English and Irish Money in Exchange; the Value of the principal foreign Coins. in English Money; the Weight of the moft ufual Coins; Lifts of Public Offices, Holidays, and Transfer Days; Rates of Hackney Coaches, Chairs, and Carts, wherein a material and univerfal Miftake relating to the two former, is rectified from the Act of Parliament, &c. II. A COMMON PLACE BOOK, with an Index planned by the celebrated Mr. LOCKE; very useful for methodically registering any Hints and Obfervations relative to Trade or Literature, which may occur to Mind, or be met with in Reading, and which are often loft for want of a proper Repoítory. The whole equally adapted to the Purposes of the Gentleman and Tradesman. Printed for R. GRIFFITHS in the Strand; and C. HENDERSON under the Royal Exchange. (To be continued annually.) THE THE MONTHLY REVIEW, For JULY, 1759. The Theory of Moral Sentiments. By Adam Smith, Profeffor of Moral Philofophy, in the University of Glasgow. Millar. Ο 8vo. 6s. F all the various enquiries that have exercised the thoughts of fpeculative men, there are fcarce any which afford more genuine or lafting pleasure, to perfons of a truly liberal and inquifitive turn, than thofe which have MAN for their object. Indeed, what can be more worthy to be ftudied, and diftinctly known? what can be nearer, what more important to man, than man? If we furvey only the human body, which is the mere fhell and tenement of man, we fhall find it most curiously wrought. All its parts, even those of the minutest and fineft texture, though crowded together in one small system, and variously dif pofed and intermingled with each other, are, as to their offices and operations, preferved diftinct, and without the least confufion. Every member, every organ, every sense, has its pe culiar functions, which it discharges in harmony with all the reft, and confpires to one great end of general nutrition, health, vigour, the prefervation of life, and the due exercife of the fublime mental powers. But if we take a view of the effential and more noble principles of the human conftitution; if we confider man's internal frame, and look into the make of his mind, his powers of reafon, his moral faculties, his implanted focial inftincts, and benevolent propenfions, which are the things that most honourably diftinguifh and mark out huVOL. XXI. manity, B manity, a brighter fcene of wisdom will open upon us, and we fhall behold the strongest characters, the moft refplendent marks of the confummate wifdom of the original parent mind, the eternal fource of perfection, life, and blessedness. Thofe Writers, therefore, who lay our internal conftitution open to our view, and point out the mutual connections, dependencies, and relations of the feveral powers, instincts, and propenfities of the human mind, are certainly entitled to a favourable reception from the public. In an age like the prefent, indeed, wherein literary productions are, in general, no farther regarded than as they are calculated to amufe and entertain, fuch Writers must expect to have but few Readers; and if they endeavour to introduce any new fyftem, the prejudices even of thofe few, in favour of their own notions, will prevent their bestowing any confiderable degree of attention upon what is advanced in oppofition to them. The Author of the work now before us, however, bids fairer for a favourable hearing than most other moral Writers; his language is always perfpicuous and forcible, and often elegant; his illuftrations are beautiful and pertinent; and his manner lively and entertaining. Even the fuperficial and carelefs Reader, though incapable of forming a juft judgment of our Author's fyftem, and entering into his peculiar notions, will be pleased with his agreeable manner of illuftrating his argument, by the frequent a peals he makes to fact and experience; and thofe who are judges of the fubject, whatever opinion they may entertain of his peculiar fentiments, muft, if they have any pretensions to candor, readily allow, that he has fupported them with a great deal of ingenuity. The principle of Sympathy, on which he founds his system, is an unquestionable principle in human nature; but whether his reafonings upon it are just and fatisfactory or not, we shall not take upon us to pronounce: it is fufficient to fay, that they are extremely ingenious and plaufible. He is, befides, a nice and delicate obferver of human nature; feems well acquainted with the fyftems both of antient and modern moralifts; and poffeffes the happy talent of treating the most intricate subjects not only with perfpicuity but with elegance. We now proceed to give some account of what he has advanced. He fets out with obferving, that how selfish foever man may be fuppofed, there are evidently fome principles in his nature, which intereft him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness neceffary to him, though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of feeing it. Of this kind,' fays he, is pity, or compaffion, the emotion which we feel for the mifery of others, when we either fee it, or are made to con 4 'ceive ceive it in a very lively manner. That we often derive forrow from the forrow of others, is too obvious to require any ⚫ instances to prove it; for this fentiment, like all the other original paffions of human nature, is by no means confined ⚫to the virtuous and humane, though they perhaps may feel it ⚫ with the most exquifite fenfibility. The greatest ruffian, the • most hardened violator of the laws of fociety, is not altoge ther without it. As we have no immediate experience of what other men feel, we can form no idea of the manner in which they are affected, but by conceiving what we ourselves should feel in *the like fituation. Though our brother is upon the rack, as long as we are at our cafe, our fenfes will never inform us of what he fuffers. They never did and never can carry * us beyond our own perfons, and it is by the imagination only, that we can form any conception of what are his fen⚫ fations. Neither can that faculty help us to this any other way, than by reprefenting to us what would be our own, if we were in his cafe. It is the impreffions of our own senses only, not thofe of his, which our imaginations copy. By the imagination we place ourselves in his fituation, we con⚫ceive ourselves enduring all the fame torments, we enter as it were into his body, and become in fome measure him, and thence form fome idea of his fenfations, and even feel fomething which, though weaker in degree, is not altogether unlike them. His agonies, when they are thus brought home to ourselves, when we have thus adopted and made them our own, begin at laft to affect us, and we then tremble and fhudder at the thought of what he feels. For as to be in pain or distress of any kind excites the most exceffive forrow, fo to conceive or to imagine that we are in it, excites fome <degree of the fame emotion, in proportion to the vivacity or • dulnefs of the conception. That this is the fource of our fellow-feeling for the mifery of others, that it is by changing places in fancy with the fufferer, that we come either to conceive or to be affected by what he feels, may be demonstrated by many obvious obfervations, if it fhould not be thought fufficiently evident ⚫ of itself. When we see a stroke aimed, and just ready to fall ⚫ upon the leg or arm of another perfon, we naturally shrink ⚫ and draw back our own leg, or our own arm; and when it ⚫ does fall, we feel it in some measure, and are hurt by it as • well as the fufferer. The mob, when they are gazing at a dancer on the flack rope, naturally writhe and twist and balance their own bodies, as they fee him do, and as they feel that they themselves muft do in his fituation. Perfons B 2 of |