it; by his imagination he attributes to the fire a power to burn, he conceives of an ideal self endued with a power to feel, and, by the force of imagination solely, anticipates a repetition of the same sense of pain which he before felt. If then he considers this pain, which is but an ideal sensation impressed on an ideal being, as an object of real, present, necessary and irresistible interest to him, and, knowing that it cannot be avoided but by an immediate exertion of voluntary power, makes a sudden and eager effort to avoid it by the first means he can think of, why are we to suppose that the apprehension of the same pain to be inflicted on another whom he must believe to be endued with the same feelings, and with whose feelings he must be capable of sympathising in the same manner as with his own imaginary feelings, may not affect him with the same sort of interest, the same sort of terror, and impel him to the same exertions for his relief[1]?
Because, it is said, in his own case there is a natural deception, by which he confounds his future being with his past being, and the idea of a future imaginary pain with the recollection of a past conscious pain. Now, if the sense of present danger acts so powerfully on his mind as to
- ↑ I take it for granted that the only way to establish the selfish hypothesis is to shew that our own interest is in reality brought home to the mind as a motive to action in some way or other by which that of others cannot possibly affect it. This is unavoidable, unless we ascribe to each individual a particular genius of selfishness which never suffers his affections to wander for a moment from himself; or suppose that a man's attachment to himself is because he has a long nose or a short one, because his hair is black or red, or because he has an unaccountable fancy for his own name, for all these make a part of the individual, and must be deemed very weighty reasons by those who think it self-evident that a man must love himself because he is himself?
