Note (e), page 524.

Ye selfish friends! ye worshippers of gold

"How selfish soever," observes the sagacious author of 'The Theory of Moral Sentiments,' " man may be supposed, there are evidently some principles in his nature, which interest him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness necessary to him, though he derives nothing from it except the pleasure of seeing it. Of this kind is pity or compassion, the emotion which we feel for the misery of others, when we either see it, or are made to conceive it in a very lively manner. That we often derive sorrow from the sorrow of others, is a matter of fact too obvious to require any instances to prove it; for this sentiment, like all the other original passions of human nature, is by no means 'confined to the virtuous and humane, though they perhaps may feel it with the most exquisite sensibility. The greatest ruilian, the most hardened violator of the laws of society, is not altogether without it."

Note (f), page 325.

Why, as with Homer's chiefs we rush to war,—

I am proud of having united in sentiment with Adam Smith in this argument of the Social Passion, some years before I had ever met with his Theory.

“Our joy," says he, " for the deliverance of those heroes of tragedy or romance who interest us, is as sincere as our grief for their distress, and our fellow-feeling with their misery is not more real than that with their happiness. We enter into their gratitude towards those faithful friends who did not desert them in their difficulties; and we heartily go along with their resentment against those perfidious traitors who injured, abandoned, or deceived them. In every passion of which the mind of man is susceptible, the emotions of the by-stander always correspond to what, by bringing the case home to himself, he imagines should be the sentiments of the sufferer,"

Note (g), page 525,

Vain to resist, imperial Nature still

"And hence the charm historic scenes impart:

Hence Tiber awes, and Avon melts the heart:"

says the Author of the fine Poem on the " Pleasures of Memory."

Note

Note (h), page 531.

And bade us fly with open arms to grief,→

"We run not only to congratulate the successful, but to condole with the afflicted; and the pleasure which we find in the conversation of one whom in all the passions of his heart we can entirely sympathize with, seems to do more than compensate the painfulness of that sorrow with which the view of his situation affects us."

ADAM SMITH.

Note (1), page 531.

The social powers of Pity and of Love.

What gratitude do I owe to the author of the subsequent sentiments, for thus giving sanction to my own!

"The mind, therefore, is rarely so disturbed, but that the company of a friend will restore it to some degree of tranquillity and sedateness. The breast is, in some measure, calmed and composed the moment we come into his presence. We are immediately put in mind of the light in which he will view our situation, and we begin to view it ourselves in the same light; for the effect of sympathy is instantaneous. We expect less sympathy from a common acquaintance than from a friend: we cannot open to the former all those little circumstances which we can unfold to the latter: we assume, therefore, more tranquillity before him, and endeavour to fix our thoughts upon those general outlines of our situation which he is willing to consider. We expect still less sympathy from an assembly of strangers; and we assume, therefore, still more tranquillity before them, and always endeavour to bring down our passion to that pitch which the particular company we are in may be expected to go along with. Nor is this only an assumed appearance: for, if we are at all masters of ourselves, the presence of a mere acquaintance will really compose us, still more than that of a friend; and that of an assembly of strangers, still more than that of an acquaintance.

Society and conversation, therefore, are the most powerful remedies for restoring the mind to its tranquillity, if, at any time, it has unfortunately lost it; as well as the best preservatives of that equal and happy temper, which is so necessary to self-satisfaction and enjoyment. Men of retirement and speculation, who are apt to sit brooding at home over either grief or resentment, though they may often have more humanity, more generosity, and a nicer sense of honour, yet seldom possess that equality of temper which is so common among men of the world." IBID.

Note

Note (4), page 531.

Ask the pale mother why 'tis joy to weep-
Say why the pensive widow loves to weep,
When on her knee she rocks her babe to sleep?
Tremblingly, still, she lifts his veil, to trace
The father's features in his infant face."

PLEASURES OF MEMORY.

It is not undelightful to me to find a congeniality of thought and opinion with such writers as Rogers and Campbell. But in all such cases I think it far more likely that the resemblance, whether of thought or expression, should be accidental than intended. The honour conferred on me by the similitude is sufficient, without coldly calculating which investigated the subject first. I have gone somewhat at length into this subject in an advertisement prefixed to the drama of "Fire and Frost," Vol. ii.

Note (1), page 532.

Thaws Lapland's ice, and glows on India's sands

The lovely poem of "The Pleasures of Memory" supplies me with a beautiful confirmation of my sentiments on this subject also.

"Undamp'd by time the generous instinct glows,
Far as Angola's sands, as Zembla's snows;
Glows in the tiger's den, the serpent's nest ;
On every form of varied life imprest:
The social tribes its choicest influence hail:
And when the drum beats briskly in the gale,

The war-worn courser charges at the sound,

And with young vigour wheels the pasture round."

ROGERS.

Note (m), page 535.

For this has Beach display'd his happiest power;—

A very ingenious and rising artist, who has painted for the Author an admirable portrait of the gentleman to whom this poem is inscribed. Mr. Beach still resides in Bath, where he is gaining that celebrity which is due to uncommon genius, and which nothing but uncommon modesty could so long have impeded. MDCCLXXXV.

And

And yet he breathes; but age, infirmity, and disappointment mark and embitter the closing scene, insomuch that some few months back he assured the Author, that death had long been an invited, and would be a welcome visitor. Jan. 12, 1805.

Note (1), page 538.

We brave e'en peril for a stranger's good.

It is with pleasure I draw an illustration of this sentiment from an incident which happened in Scotland, in the autumn of 1800. That amiable young Nobleman, LORD BINNING, a name dear to Poets, from the patronage which the family bestowed on Thomson,―happening to be riding by the side of a deep river near his paternal seat, saw a poor woman, who had been carried away by the stream, and was in imminent and instant danger of drowning.

He immediately threw himself from his horse, plunged into the river up to his neck, and dragged the perishing victim to land; while some unfeeling persons, who had witnessed the catastrophe, remained silent spectators of the woman's danger, and would have suffered her to sink without an effort to save her.

From this instance of genuine sympathy for the sufferings of his kind, I draw the happiest presages of the future character of the noble youth who is the subject of this note; and I am assured by one who knows him, that his conduct on this occasion was exactly what might have been expected from the generous philanthropy of his Lordship's heart.

Note (), page 541.

Thus the poor mariner, his traffic o'er,—

The following very beautiful illustration of these emotions occurs in the delightful" Pleasures of Hope."

"But Hope can here her moonlight vigils keep,

And sing to charm the spirit of the deep:
Swift as yon streamer lights the starry pole,

Her visions warm the watchman's pensive soul;

His native hills that rise in happier climes,
The grot that heard his song of other times,
His cottage home, his bark of slender sail,
His glassy lake, and broomwood-blossom'd vale,
Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind,
Treads the lov'd shore he sigh'd to leave behind;

Meets

Meets at each step a friend's familiar face,
And flies at last to Helen's long embrace;
Wipes from her cheek the rapture-speaking tear,
And clasps, with many a sigh, his children dear!
While long neglected, but at length caress'd,
His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest,
Points to the master's eyes (where'er they roam)

His wistful face, and whines a welcome home."

The subsequent tender etching from "The Pleasures of Memory" forms another picture in keeping with the former

"Th' adventurous boy, that asks his little share,
And hies from home with many a gossip's pray'r,
Turns on the neighbouring hill once more to sce
The dear abode of peace and privacy;

And as he turns, the thatch among the trees,

'The smoke's blue wreath ascending with the breeze,

The village-common spotted white with sheep,
The church-yard yews round which his fathers sleep;

All rouse reflection's sadly pleasing train,

And ofthe looks and weeps, and looks again."

For various instances of the Social Principle amongst Mariners, I recommend the reader to Captain Inglefield's Narrative-Captain Bligh's on the loss of the Bounty-The loss of the Guardian-The loss of the Halsewell Indiaman-The preservation of Captain Stewart, &c.

The subject might derive more interest also by considering Cases of FIRE; in which many lives have been generously, some gloriously, sacrificed on the pure impulse of the social duty; forcing the affectionate Friend and the tender Parent into the flames, solely from the hope of saving a darling object, without the remotest consideration of the great Principle of Self-Preservation.