health, feels nothing in his body. What he fuffers is from the imagination only, which represents to him the lofs of his dignity, neglect from his friends, contempt from his enemies, dependance, want, and mifery, coming faft upon him; and we fympathize with him more ftrongly upon this account, because our imaginations can more readily mould themselves upon his imagination, than our bodies can mould themselves upon his body.

The loss of a leg may generally be regarded as a more real calamity than the lofs of a mistress. It would be a ridiculous tragedy, however, of which the catastrophe was to turn upon a loss of that kind. A misfortune of the other kind, how frivolous foever it may appear to be, has given occafion to many a fine one.

Nothing is fo foon forgot as pain. The moment it is gone the whole agony of it is over, and the thought of it can no longer give us any sort of disturbance. We ourselves cannot then enter into the anxiety and anguish which we had before conceived. An unguarded word from a friend will occafion a more durable uneafinefs. The agony

which this creates is by no means over with the word. What at first disturbs us is not the object of the fenfes, but the idea of the imagination. As it is an idea, therefore, which occafions our uneafinefs, till time and other accidents have in fome measure effaced it from our memory, the imagination continues to fret and rankle within, from the thought of it.

Pain never calls forth any very lively fympathy

unless it is accompanied with danger. We fympathize with the fear, though not with the agony of the sufferer. Fear, however, is a paffion derived altogether from the imagination, which reprefents, with an uncertainty and fluctuation that increases our anxiety, not what we really feel, but what we may hereafter poffibly fuffer. The gout or the tooth-ach, though exquifitely painful, excite very little sympathy; more dangerous diseases, though accompanied with very little pain, excite the highest.

Somepeople faint and grow fick at the fight of a chirurgical operation, and that bodily pain which is occafioned by tearing the flesh, seems, in them, to excite the most exceffive fympathy. We conceive in a much more lively and diftinct manner the pain which proceeds from an external cause, than we do that which arifes from an internal diforder. I can scarce form an idea of the agonies of my neighbour when he is tortured with the gout, or the stone; but I have the cleareft conception of what he muft fuffer from an incifion, a wound, or a fracture. The chief caufe, however, why fuch objects produce fuch violent effects upon us, is their novelty. One who has been witness to a dozen diffections, and as many amputations, fees, ever after, all operations of this kind with great indifference, and often with perfect infenfibility. Though we have read or feen reprefented more than five hundred tragedies; we shall feldom feel fo entire an abatement of our fenfibility to the objects which they reprefent to us,

In fome of the Greek tragedies there is an attempt to excite compaffion, by the reprefentation of the agonies of bodily pain. Philoctetes cries out and faints from the extremity of his fufferings. Hippolytus and Hercules are both introduced as expiring under the fevereft tortures, which, it seems, even the fortitude of Hercules was incapable of fupporting. In all these cafes, however, it is not the pain which interefts us, but fome other circumftance. It is not the fore foot, but the folitude, of Philoctetes which affects us, and diffuses over that charming tragedy, that romantic wildness, which is so agreeable to the imagination. The agonies of Hercules and Hippolytus are interesting only because we forefee that death is to be the confequence. If those heroes were to recover, we fhould think the reprefentation of their fufferings perfectly ridiculous. What a tragedy would that be of which the diftrefs confifted in a colic! Yet no pain is more exquifite. These attempts to excite compaffion by the reprefentation of bodily pain, may be regarded as among the greatest breaches of decorum of which the Greek theatre has fet the example.

The little fympathy which we feel with bodily pain is the foundation of the propriety of conftancy and patience in enduring it. The man, who under the fevereft tortures allows no weakness to escape him, vents no groan, gives way to no paffion which we do not entirely enter into, commands our higheft admiration. His firmnefs enables him to keep time with our indifference and infenfibility. We

admire and entirely go along with the magnanimous effort which he makes for this purpose. We approve of his behaviour, and from our experience of the common weakness of human nature, we are furprised, and wonder how he fhould be able to act fo as to deserve approbation. Approbation, mixed and animated by wonder and furprise, conftitutes the sentiment which is properly called admiration, of which applause is the natural expreffion, as has already been obferved.

CHA P. II.

Of thofe Paffions which take their origin from a particular turn or habit of the Imagination.

EVEN of the paffions derived from the imagi

nation, those which take their origin from a peculiar turn or habit it has acquired, though they may be acknowledged to be perfectly natural, are however, but little sympathized with. The imaginations of mankind, not having acquired that particular turn, cannot enter into them; and fuch paffions, though they may be allowed to be almost unavoidable in fome part of life, are always, in fome measure, ridiculous. This is the cafe with that strong attachment which naturally grows up between two perfons of different fexes, who have long fixed their thoughts upon one another. Our imagination not having run in the fame channel with that of the lover, we cannot enter into the

eagerness of his emotions. If our friend has been injured, we readily fympathize with his refentment, and grow angry with the very perfon with whom he is angry. If he has received a benefit, we readily enter into his gratitude, and have a very high fenfe of the merit of his benefactor. But if he is in love, though we may think his passion just as reasonable as any of the kind, yet we never think ourselves bound to conceive a paffion of the fame kind, and for the same person for whom he has conceived it. The paffion appears to every body, but the man who feels it, entirely disproportioned to the value of the object; and love, though it is pardoned in a certain age because we know it is natural, is always laughed at, because we cannot enter into it. All ferious and ftrong expreffions of it appear ridiculous to a third perfon; and though a lover may be good company to his mistress, he is so to nobody elfe. He himself is fenfible of this; and as long as he continues in his fober fenfes, endeavours to treat his own paffion with raillery and ridicule. It is the only ftyle in which we care to hear of it; because it is the only style in which we ourselves are difpofed to talk of it. We grow weary of the grave, pedantic, and long-sentenced love of Cowley and Petrarca, who never have done with exaggerating the violence of their attachment; but the gaiety of Ovid, and the gallantry of Horace, are always agreeable.

But though we feel no proper fympathy with an attachment of this kind, though we never approach even in imagination towards conceiving a passion