tor, prepares him for the reception of other tender affections; and pity is readily improved into love or friendfhip, by a certain tenderness and concern for the object, which is the tone of both passions. The aptitude of pity to produce love is beautifully illustrated by Shakespear :

life, men

Othello. Her father lov'd me, oft invited me;
Still question’d me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have paít.
I ran it through, e'en from my boyish days,
To th’ very moment that he bade me tell it :

:
Wherein I spoke of most difast'rous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth 'scapes in th’imminent deadly breach ;
Of being taken by the infolent foe, -
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And with it all my travel's history,

All these to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline;
But still the house-affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good mcans
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels the had something heard,
But not distinctively. I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer'd. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of fighs :

She

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She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas pasting strange
Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful -
She wilh'd fhe had not heard it: - yet she wifhd,
That Heav'n had made her such a man :-she thank'd me,
And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. On this hint I fpake :
She lov’d me for the dangers I had past,
And I lov'd her, that she did pity them-
This only is the witchcraft I have us’d.

vis Othella, act 1.fc. 8.

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In this instance it will be observed that admiration concurred with pity to produce love..

Ear and anger, to answer the purposes of na

ture, are happily so contrived as to operate either instinctively or deliberately. So far as they prompt actions as means to a certain end, they fall in with the general system, and require no particular explanation : if any object have a threatening appearance, reason suggests means to avoid the danger: if a man be injured, the first thing he thinks of, is what revenge he shall take, and what means he fall employ. These parti

culars are not lefs obvious than natural. But as the paffions of fear and anger in their instinctive Itate, are less familiar to us, it

may

be

acceptable to the reader to have them accurately deliheated. He may also possibly relish the opportunity of this fpecimen, to have the nature of in+ stinctive passions more fully explained than there was formerly occasion to do. I begin with fear.

Self-preservation is to us a matter of too great importance to be left entirely under the guardianThip of self-love, which cannot be put in exercise otherwise than by the intervention of reason and reflection. Nature hath acted here with her usual precaution and foresight. Fear and anger are pafsions common to all men; and by operating instinctively, they frequently afford security when the flower operations of deliberative reason would be too late : we take nourishment commonly, not by the direction of reason, but by the impulse of hunger and thirst; and in the same manner, we avoid danger by the impulse of fear, which often, before there is time for reflection, placeth us in safety. This matter then is ordered with consummate wisdom ; for it is not within the reach of fancy, to conceive any thing better fitted to answer its purpose than this instinctive passion of fear, which, upon the first surmise of danger, operates instantaneously without reflection. So little doth the passion, in such instances, depend on reason, that even in contradiction to reason, it often operates when we are conscious there is no hazard : a man who is not upon his guard, cannot avoid thrinking at a blow, though he knows it to be ained in sport ; nos clofing his eyes at the approach of what may hurt them, though conscious that he is in no danger. L. And it also operates by impelling us to act even where we are conscious that our interposition can be of no service : if a passage-boat by a brisk galé lies much to one side, I cannot avoid applying the xyhole force of my flioulders to set it upright; and if my horfe stumblemy hands and knees are instantly at work to prevent him from falling. Influenced by the same initinctive passion of fear, infants are much affected with a stern look, a menacing tone, or : other expression of anger; though, being incapable of reflection, they can: not have any distinct notion of the import of these signs. This is all that is neceifary to be said here upon the natural connection between fear and the external signs of anger, which connection will be handled more particularly in the chapter of the external signs of emotions and passions.

Fear provides for self-preservation by flying from harm ; anger, by repelling it. Nothing indeed can be better contrived to repel or prevent injury, than anger or resentment; destitute of this passion, men, like defenceless lambs, would lie constantly open to mischief*. Deli

berate

* Brasidas being surprised by the bite of a mouse he had cached, let it Nip out of his fingers. “ No crcaturç (says he) is

berate anger caused by a voluntary injury, is too well known to require any explanation: if my desire be in general to resent an affront, I must use means, and these means must be discovered by reflection : deliberation is liere requisite; . and in this, which is the ordinary case, the paffion seldom exceeds just bounds. But where

But where anger suddenly inflames one to return a blow, even without thinking of doing mischief, the paflion is inftinctive; and it is chiefly in such cafes that it is rash and ungovernable, because it operates blindly, without affording time for deliberation or forefight. Instinctive

anger is frequently raised by bodily pain, which, when sudden and exceffive, as by a stroke on a tender part, ruffling the temper, and unhinging the mind, is in its tone similar to anger. Bodily pain by this means disposes to anger, which is as suddenly raised, provided an object be found to vent it upon. Anger commonly is not provoked otherwise than by a voluntary injury: but when a man is thus beforehand disposed to anger, he is not nice nor fcrupulous about an object; the person who gave the stroke, however accidentally, is by an inflamable temper held a proper object, merely by having occafioned the pain. It is still more remarkable, that a stock or a stone by which I am hurt, becomes

“ fo contemptible, but what may provide for its own safety, if it " have courage to defend itself.”

Plutarch. Apothegmata.

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