we can never feel too much for thofe who have fuffered fo dreadful a calamity. The tribute of our fellow-feeling feems doubly due to them now, when they are in danger of being forgot by every body; and, by the vain honors which we pay to their memory, we endeavour, for our own mifery, artificially to keep alive our melancholy remembrance of their misfortune, That our fympathy can afford them no confolation feems to be an addition to their calamity; and to think that all we can do is unavailing, and that, what alleviates all other distress, the regret, the love, and the lamentations of their friends, can yield no comfort to them, ferves only to exafperate our fenfe of their mifery. The happiness of the dead, however, moft affuredly, is affected by none of thefe circumftances; nor is it the thought of these things which can ever disturb the profound fecurity of their repofe. The idea of that dreary and endless melancholy, which the fancy naturally afcribes to their condition, arifes altogether from our joining to the change which has been produced upon them, our own consciousness of that change, from our putting ourfelves in their fituation, and from our lodging, if I may be allowed to fay fo, our own living fouls in their inanimated bodies, and thence conceiving what would be our emotion in this cafe. It is from this very illufion of the imagination, that the forefight of our own diffolution is fo terrible to us, and that the idea of thofe circumftances, which undoubtedly can give us no pain when we are dead, makes us miferable while we are alive. And

from thence arifes one of the most important principles in human nature, the dread of death, the great poifon to the happiness, but the great reftraint upon the injuftice of mankind, which, while it afflicts and mortifies the individual, guards and protects the fociety.

BUT

CHA P. II.

Of the Pleasure of mutual Sympathy.

UT whatever may be the cause of sympathy, or however it may be excited, nothing pleases us more than to observe in other men a fellow-feeling with all the emotions of our own breaft; nor are we ever so much shocked as by the appearance of the contrary. Those who are fond of deducing all our fentiments from certain refinements of felflove, think themselves at no lofs to account, according to their own principles, both for this pleasure and this pain. Man, fay they, confcious of his own weakness, and of and of the need which he has for the affiftance of others, rejoices whenever he obferves that they adopt his own paffions, because he is then assured of that affistance; and grieves whenever he obferves the contrary, because he is then affured of their oppofition. But both the pleasure and the pain are always felt so instantaneously, and often upon such frivolous occafions, that it seems evident that neither of them can be derived from any such self-interested confideration. A man is mortified when, after having endeavoured

to divert the company, he looks round and fees that nobody laughs at his jefts but himself. On the contrary, the mirth of the company is highly agreeable to him, and he regards this correspondence of their fentiments with his own as the greatest applause.

Neither does his pleasure feem to arise altogether from the additional vivacity which his mirth may receive from sympathy with theirs, nor his pain from the disappointment he meets with when he miffes this pleasure; though both the one and the other, no doubt, do in some measure. When we have read a book or poem fo often that we can no longer find any amusement in reading it by ourselves, we can still take pleasure in reading it to a companion. To him it has all the graces of novelty; we enter into the surprise and admiration which it naturally excites in him, but which it is no longer capable of exciting in us; we confider all the ideas which it presents rather in the light in which they appear to him, than in that in which they appear to ourfelves, and we are amufed by fympathy with his amusement which thus enlivens our own. On the contrary, we should be vexed if he did not seem to be entertained with it, and we could no longer take any pleasure in reading it to him. It is the fame cafe here. The mirth of the company, no doubt, enlivens our own mirth, and their filence, no doubt, disappoints us. But though this may contribute both to the pleasure which we derive from the one, and to the pain which we feel from the other, it is by no means the fole caufe of either; and this correfpondence of the fentiments of others

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with our own appears to be a caufe of pleasure, and the want of it a cause of pain, which cannot be accounted for in this manner. The fympathy, which my friends express with my joy, might, indeed, give me pleasure by enlivening that joy: but that which they exprefs with my grief could give me none, if it ferved only to enliven that grief. Sympathy, however, enlivens joy and alleviates grief. It enlivens joy by presenting another fource of fatisfaction; and it alleviates grief by infinuating into the heart almost the only agreeable senfation which it is at that time capable of receiving,

It is to be obferved accordingly, that we are fill more anxious to communicate to our friends our difagreeable than our agreeable paffions, that we derive ftill more fatisfaction from their sympathy with the former than from that with the latter, and that we are ftill more shocked by the want of it.

How are the unfortunate relieved when they have found out a perfon to whom they can communicate the cause of their forrow? Upon his fympathy they feem to difburden themselves of a part of their diftrefs: he is not improperly faid to fhare it with them. He not only feels a forrow of the fame kind with that which they feel, but as if he had derived a part of it to himself, what he feels feems to alleviate the weight of what they feel. Yet by relating their misfortunes they in fome meafure renew their grief. They awaken in their memory the remembrance of thofe circumstances which occafion their affliction. Their tears accordingly flow fafter than before, and they are apt

to abandon themselves to all the weakness of forrow. They take pleasure, however, in all this, and, it is evident, are sensibly relieved by it; because the sweetness of his fympathy more than compensates the bitterness of that forrow, which, in order to excite this fympathy, they had thus enlivened and renewed. The crueleft infult, on the contrary, which can be offered to the unfortunate, is to appear to make light of their calamities. To feem not to be affected with the joy of our companions is but want of politeness; but not to wear a serious countenance when they tell us their afflictions, is real and grofs inhumanity.

Love is an agreeable; refentment, a disagreeable paffion; and accordingly we are not half fo anxious that our friends fhould adopt our friendships, as that they should enter into our resentments. We can forgive them though they seem to be little affected with the favors which we may have received, but lofe all patience if they seem indifferent about the injuries which may have been done to us: nor are we half fo angry with them for not entering into our gratitude, as for not fympathizing with our refentment. They can eafily avoid being friends to our friends, but can hardly avoid being enemies to those with whom we are at variance. We seldom réfent their being at enmity with the first, though upon that account we may fometimes affect to make an awkward quarrel with them; but we quarrel with them in good earnest if they live in friendship with the laft. The agreeable paffions of love and joy can fatisfy and fupport the heart