nomenon lies in this, that of the various kinds of unpleasant existence the state of languor, arising from the want of excitement (ennui) is one of the most irksome, most insupportable. Our nature tells us, that even to suffer transitory painful emotions, and to be stimulated by them, is more agreeable than to exist in apathy. Even painful agitation is less obnoxious than perfect rest. Our mental, like our physical constitution, demands excitement, pleasurable, if it can be had, but even that of pain rather than apathy, for apathy is mental death, as want of motion is death of the physical system.

Sometimes then the absence of sympathy, when, according to Analyticus, it should show itself if Adam Smith were right, may be accounted for from the peculiar associations of the individual, arising from his education, habits, and other circumstances. At other times the absence is not real, since it has appeared that we often court painful agitation to get rid of a more painful calm. It still remains to say a few words in explanation of the case when sympathy, though strongly called for, remains deficient on account of the unfavourable situa tion of the individual at the moment when the impressions are received.

The excitement of sympathy, though certainly owing to the association of certain emotions with certain ideas, requires, like any other result or effect, a favourable condition, suitable circumstances, or else, though the cause may exist, the effect will not follow. No just conclusion can therefore be drawn in this case from the inconsistency of that effect against the insufficiency or irrevalence of the cause assigned.

I mentioned, above, the pleasure I felt when witnessing on the wharf, the joyous meeting of long separated friends at the return of a vessel from the East Indies. If the same scene had fallen under my observation half an hour before the closing of the bank, when a note I had to take up remained, in consequence of some disappointment, unprovided for-would it have produced the same effect?— certainly not. The emotions of uneasiness and apprehension already excited would have excluded or weakened every other. The scene would have conveyed nothing to my mind except perhaps, the idea that in the merchant whose vessel had just arrived, I might find a person disposed to relieve me from trouble.

In the same manner the man in anger, while inflicting chastisement on another, feels no sympathy for his pains, because the previous irritation of his system counteracts that emotion. Thus fanaticism, religious or political, steels the heart against emotions of compassion and too frequently causes even the generous and good to sully their lives by acts of cruelty. And thus it happens that regret, which springs from sympathy, never restrains us from acts of violence and

passion, but is felt only when the stronger irritation, which prompted us, has subsided.

It seems obvious then that the degree of sympathy felt, when seeing others affected, depends on quickness and accuracy of conception, on a due share of sensibility, on the nature and strength of the associations previously formed, and on the absence of any other strong excitement, at the moment when impressions are received.

We can therefore not be surprised when we sometimes find that the painful or joyful emotions of sympathy are stronger than the actual feelings of the person affected who causes them; for these feelings likewise depend on the susceptibility of the person, which is again determined by irritability, the state of previous associations, the absence of previous excitement, &c.

One of the ladies of Philadelphia would not, perhaps, for a week recover from the shock she would receive on seeing a slave chastised after the West India manner, when the slave himself will forget it in a few hours.

When the Indian smiles under tortures it is because the pleasurable emotion associated with the idea of acquiring glory by showing indifference obliterates, nay, destroys in him, the susceptibility of pain.

All those who act from principle, as it is called, are enabled to do so in consequence of so firm an association in them of pleasurable emotions with the ideas of what is virtuous and dignified, as not to feel the sacrifices a conduct of strict principle may require. The pleasure on the one hand overbalances the pain on the other; and it is because they have been made susceptible of that pleasure, that they must so act.

Religion promotes virtue, because it increases the number of pleasurable emotions associated with its practice, by extending their sphere beyond our present existence. Its essential business is therefore with the feelings, and those understood little of human /nature who pretended to purify by devesting it of what seizes on and captivates the imagination.

Strength of mind implies strength of associations"; and therefore strong minds will be more capable of virtue and every species of heroism, than those who are feeble.

Heroism in fact is nothing else than an association between the idea of acting like a man of honour and the pleasurable emotions connected with it, sufficiently strong not to be interrupted by pain or danger.

It is well known that we feel not what we do not attend to; and not attending to is to resist the association which certain impressions

would call forth by awakening a different train of ideas. With them different emotions will take place, and thus we cease to feel what we think ought not to be felt.

In this manner we must account for what we read of Sir John Moore. A cannon ball knocked him off his horse and took away his arm at the shoulder, yet he rose from the ground, and only missed his arm when in the act of remounting his horse he was going to use it. The soul of the hero was too much intent on his duty, too much absorbed in the issue of the battle to allow him at the moment to be susceptible of pain

Thus in a cord one set of vibrations disappears when stronger touches agitate it in a different point.

I must observe generally that there runs through all the arguments of Analyticus against sympathy, as explained by Adam Smith, a confused idea respecting the part which the imagination acts on this occasion. A point on which the ideas of Adam Smith himself seem not to have been sufficiently clear.

It is supposed that when we see another person affected we put ourselves, by an effort of the imagination in that person's place, and that, in consequence of this effort, we become sensible, we are cnabled to conceit, how he must feel.

Were it so, your correspondent would be right when he observes that only a faint and feeble sentiment could be the result of this mental operation, and that of course vigorous sympathy, such as we see it in life, must have another source.

But it is not so. A person before me makes a certain impression on my senses; I see how a nail, on which he trod with his bare foot while running, has perforated from the sole to the opposite side. At the same instant I hear his scream and perceive the contortion of his face. These impressions give ideas. These ideas excite associated, corresponding emotions. I therefore find myself to a certain degree in the same state with him. I feel as he does. The only difference between us is that he receives his impressions from the nail in the foot direct, while I receive them indirectly through the medium of my eye. I am in unison with him just as, when an instrument is struck, corresponding cords will, of their own accord, begin to vibrate on another. My intellectual system, affected by impression on the senses, ideas and corresponding emotions, begins, in the first instance, to be put into a similar state of agitation with himself, and therefore I find myself in his place. I find myself in his place because I am in virtue of my organization, and of my associations, drawn into a similar state of affection. I do not beginby dint of imagination to place myself in his situation, and feck

afterwards. No, my sensibility is directly excited in the first instance, and because it is thus excited, I know how he must feel.

Imagination in fact is more frequently a result, an effect of the laws of association, than an operative cause. It is a consciousness of the state of others derived from attention to the emotions associated with certain ideas in ourselves.

Thus I imagine that I am a prince if I assume a conduct and demeanor suitable to the state of feelings associated with the idea of of a prince; and I am relieved from pain and sickness by metallic points, magnetic manipulations, or the touch of a miraculous hand, provided I have faith, in a great measure, if not intirely, because in this case the idea, now I shall get well, produces its associated train of feelings and motions in the system, which prove not less salutary for having been called forth by imagination, than if they had been occasioned by a blister. The rationale of their operation is the same, and therefore both prove frequently ineffectual.

But this imagination is different from poetic fancy, which consists in a rapid, brilliant, and delicate combination of ideas.

Since then sympathy depends in a direct manner on a unison of nervous affection," we see again why it will be the stronger the less the mental fabric is previously excited, the more it is at rest. The man agitated by the fear of being protested at bank cannot possibly sympathize with the joy of the meeting friends.

Simple relations, therefore, in life; the absence of want and perturbating passions-a regular course of activity-are congenial to

morals.

What associated emotions effect in a moral sense-the perception of resulting pain or pleasure, of right or wrong-that associated ideas produce in the operation of judging.-Judging is nothing else but reviewing ideas and watching their associations. Therefore to judge well we must be calm. Therefore our bursts of brilliant thoughts occur most frequently when we first awake in the morning, There'fore to think well and to see clear we must have thought much and seen much; there must have been a mass of relative ideas previously conceived and connected. Therefore wrong associations constitute a wrong head.

If we view sympathy in the light above stated, viz. as a unison of nervous affections with those of another, which, under favourable circumstances, must inevitably result from the operation of the laws of association-the vigor of these emotions of sympathy, and that they most powerfully propel to action, is not to be wondered at.

The humble retainer in king Lear, when they were putting out the eyes of the old man, did not begin with saying or thinking, "if I

were that old man, how would I feel, and consequently what ought I to do? That would be a miserable sympathy indeed which stood in need of this mental process! No: the sight of the deed made him thrill with horror, and the pain he felt made him do what he would have done had his own eye been in question, made him draw his sword and attack, regardless of consequences, those engaged in the barbarous act.

It appears then, to resume the whole subject, that man, like other animals, is propelled to action by pleasure and pain. He is further so constituted that frequently coexisting ideas and emotions become associated and mutually reproduce each other. In consequence of this last feature in his nature, he involuntarily participates in the feelings of others, and is thereby prompted to promote their pleasures and relieve their pains; for, in so doing, he gratifies or relieves himself. He cannot help therefore delighting in good and being averse to evil. He is constitutionally, that is, in virtue of his organization, mural, and will be so, unless forced out of his natural existence by unnatural circumstances.

Is not this reasoning founded on facts and correct observation? Is it not plain and obvious? and if so, if the simple laws of association bear me out when I wish to conceive how man comes to be a moral being, why have recourse, with Mr. Analyticus, to a deus ex machina, to an occult, primary, instinctive and inscrutable qualification in the soul of man, implanted for the most happy and obvious purposes by a direct law of the Creator?

Yet, if the explanation were harmless, I would let it pass. It sounds sublime. It seems full of high meaning! I should be sorry to put the writer out of humour with his grand concluding sentence-but not only does it tell me nothing; the sentence is hostile. It knocks me down! The world around me is full of evil I fain would mend; full of vice and wickedness I fain would banish. If morality springs from sympathy, and sympathy is an occult, primary, instinctive and inscrutable qualification, nothing remains for me but to heave a deep sigh, take care of myself, and let things run their wicked courses!

How different when a just conception of the laws of association and their influence on intellectual man develops to my mind the true nature of sympathy! Da punctum, I exclaim with Archimedes—Oh that I were a man of influence and fortune! and though I should not attempt to move the earth, yet I should remove from that portion of it where I dwell much that now disfigures it-much that is abominable and vile! Here is a downright wicked fellow, bent upon mischief and immoral throughout-what will you do with him Mr. Analyticus?—You shrug your shoulders; you declare that he must be deficient in that VOL. II.

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