mifery, and death itself. It is a common obfervation, that objects which in the reality would shock, are in tragical, and fuch like reprefentations, the fource of a very high species of pleasure. This taken as a fact, has been the cause of much reafoning. The fatisfaction has been commonly attributed, firft, to the comfort we receive in confidering that fo melancholy a story is no more than a fiction; and next, to the contemplation of our own freedom from the evils which we fee reprefented. I am afraid it is a practice much too common in enquiries of this nature, to attribute the cause of feelings which merely arise from the mechanical structure of our bodies, or from the natural frame and conftitution of our minds, to certain conclufions of the reafoning faculty on the objects prefented to us; for I fhould imagine, that the influence of reafon in producing our paffions is nothing near fo extenfive as it is commonly believed.

SECT. XIV.

The effects of SYMPATHY in the diftreffes

T

of others.

O examine this point concerning the effect of tragedy in a proper manner, we must previoufly confider how we are affected by the feelings of our fellow-creatures in circumstances of real diftrefs. I am convinced we have a degree of delight, and that no small one, in the real misfortunes and pains of others for let the affection be what it will in appearance, if it does not make us fhun fuch objects,

if on the contrary it induces us to approach them, if it makes us dwell upon them, in this cafe I conceive we must have a delight or pleasure of fome fpecies or other in contemplating objects of this kind. Do we not read the authentic hiftories of scenes of this nature with as much pleasure as romances or poems, where the incidents are fictitious? The profperity of no empire, nor the grandeur of no king, can fo agreeably affect in the reading, as the ruin of the ftate of Macedon, and the diftrefs of its unhappy prince. Such a catastrophe touches us in history as much as the deftruction of Troy does in fable. Our delight, in cafes of this kind, is very greatly heightened, if the fufferer be fome excellent perfon who finks under an unworthy fortune. Scipio and Cato are both virtuous characters; but we are more deeply affec ted by the violent death of the one, and the ruin of the great cause he adhered to, than with the deserved triumphs and uninterrupted prosperity of the other; for terror is a paffion which always produces delight when it does not prefs too clofe; and pity is a paffion accompanied with pleafure, because it arifes from love and focial affection. Whenever we are formed by nature to any active purpose, the paffion which animates us to it, is attended with delight, or a pleasure of fome kind, let the fubject-matter be what it will; and as our Creator has defigned we fhould be united by the bond of fympathy, he has ftrengthened that bond by a proportionable delight; and there most where our fympathy is moft wanted, in the diftreffes of others. If this paffion was fimply painful, we would fhun with the greatest care all

perfons

perfons and places that could excite fuch a paffion; as fome, who are fo far gone in indolence as not to endure any strong impreffion, actually do. But the cafe is widely different with the greater part of mankind; there is no fpectacle we fo eagerly purfue, as that of fome uncommon and grievous calamity; fo that whether the misfortune is before our eyes, or whether they are turned back to it in hiftory, it always touches with delight. This is not an unmixed delight, but blended with no finall uneafinefs. The delight we have in fuch things, hinders us from fhunning fcenes of mifery; and the pain we feel, prompts us to relieve ourselves in relieving those who fuffer; and all this antecedent to any reafoning, by an instinct that works us to its own purposes with

out our concurrence.

IT

SECT. XV.

Of the effects of TRAGEDY.

T is thus in real calamities. In imitated distresses the only difference is the pleasure resulting from the effects of imitation; for it is never fo perfect, but we can perceive it is imitation, and on that principle are fomewhat pleased with it. And indeed in fome cafes we derive as much or more pleasure from that fource than from the thing itself. But then I imagine we fhall be much mistaken if we attribute any confiderable part of our fatisfaction in tragedy to the confideration that tragedy is a deceit, and its reprefentations no realities. The nearer it approaches

approaches the reality, and the further it removes us from all idea of fiction, the more perfect is its power. But be its power of what kind it will, it never approaches to what it reprefents. Choose a day on which to reprefent the moft fublime and af fecting tragedy we have; appoint the most favourite actors; spare no coft upon the fcenes and decora tions; unite the greateft efforts of poetry, painting, and mufic; and when you have collected your audience, juft at the moment when their minds are erect with expectation, let it be reported that a state criminal of high rank is on the point of being executed in the adjoining fquare; in a moment the emptiness of the theatre would demonftrate the comparative weakness of the imitative arts, and proclaim the triumph of the real fympathy. I believe that this notion of our having a fimple pain in the reality, yet a delight in the representation, arifes from hence, that we do not fufficiently distinguish what we would by no means choose to do, from what we should be eager enough to fee if it was once done. We delight in seeing things, which fo far from doing, our heartieft wifhes would be to fee redreffed. This noble capital, the pride of England and of Europe, I believe no man is fo ftrangely wicked as to defire to fee deftroyed by a conflagration or an earthquake, though he should be removed himself to the greatest distance from the danger. But fuppofe fuch a fatal accident to have happened, what numbers from all parts would crowd to behold the ruins, and amongst them many who would have been content never to have feen London in its glory! Nor is it, either in real or fictitious diftreffes, our immunity

immunity from them which produces our delight; in my own mind I can discover nothing like it. I apprehend that this mistake is owing to a fort of fophifm, by which we are frequently impofed upon; it arifes from our not distinguishing between what is indeed a neceffary condition to our doing or fuffering any thing in general, and what is the cause of fome particular act. If a man kills me with a sword, it is a neceffary condition to this that we fhould have been both of us alive before the fact; and yet it would be abfurd to fay, that our being both living creatures was the caufe of his crime and of my death. So it is certain, that it is abfolutely necessary my life fhould be out of any imminent hazard, before I can take a delight in the fufferings of others, real or imaginary, or indeed in any thing elie from any cause whatsoever. But then it is a fophifm to argue from thence, that this immunity is the caufe of my delight either on thefe or on any occafions. No one can diftinguish fuch a caufe of fatisfaction in his own mind, I believe; nay, when we do not suffer any very acute pain, nor are expofed to any imminent danger of our lives, we can feel for others, whilst we fuffer ourfelves; and often then moft when we are foftened by affliction; we fee with pity even diftreffes which we would accept in the place of

our own.

SECT.