And as to these two, or benevolence and any other particular
passions whatever, considered in a further view, as forming a
general temper, which more or less disposes us for enjoyment of all
the common blessings of life, distinct from their own gratification,
is benevolence less the temper of tranquillity and freedom than
ambition or covetousness? Does the benevolent man appear less easy
with himself from his love to his neighbour? Does he less relish
his being? Is there any peculiar gloom seated on his face? Is his
mind less open to entertainment, to any particular gratification?
Nothing is more manifest than that being in good humour, which is
benevolence whilst it lasts, is itself the temper of satisfaction
and enjoyment.

Suppose then, a man sitting down to consider how he might become
most easy to himself, and attain the greatest pleasure he could, all
that which is his real natural happiness. This can only consist in
the enjoyment of those objects which are by nature adapted to our
several faculties. These particular enjoyments make up the sum
total of our happiness, and they are supposed to arise from riches,
honours, and the gratification of sensual appetites. Be it so; yet
none profess themselves so completely happy in these enjoyments, but
that there is room left in the mind for others, if they were
presented to them: nay, these, as much as they engage us, are not
thought so high, but that human nature is capable even of greater.
Now there have been persons in all ages who have professed that they
found satisfaction in the exercise of charity, in the love of their
neighbour, in endeavouring to promote the happiness of all they had
to do with, and in the pursuit of what is just and right and good as
the general bent of their mind and end of their life; and that doing