is nothing else but sudden glory, arising from a sudden conception of some eminency in ourselves, by comparison with the infirmity of others, or with our own formerly. For men laugh at the follies of themselves past, when they come suddenly to remembrance, except they bring with them any present dishonour."

It is not therefore true, as Dr. Campbell says, that "with regard to others, he appears solely under the notion of inferiority, as the person triumphed over." He, on the contrary, appears as achieving a very glorious triumph, that, namely, over his own errors.

This shows also the error of Addison's remarks, that," according to this account, when we hear a man laugh excessively, instead of saying that he is very merry, we ought to tell him that he is very proud.”—A man may contemn the errors both of himself and others, without pride; and indeed, in contemning the former, he proves himself to be far above that sentiment, and verifies Dr. Campbell's remark, that no two characters more rarely meet in the same person, than that of a very risible man, and a very self-conceited supercilious

man.

It is curious to see a great man, like Hobbes, thus attacked by less ones, who do not even understand him.

SECTION III.

CAUSE OF THE PLEASURE RECEIVED FROM REPRESENTATIONS

EXCITING PITY.

Many hypotheses have been proposed to explain this cause.

According to the Abbé Du Bos*, in order to get rid of listlessness, the mind seeks for emotions; and the stronger these are the better. Hence the passions which in themselves are the most distressing, are, for this purpose, preferable to the pleasant, because they most effectually relieve the mind from the less endurable languor which preys upon it during inaction.

The sophistry of this explanation is evident. Pleasant passions, as Dr. Campbell has shown, ought in every respect to have the advantage, because, while they preserve the mind from this state of inaction, they convey a feeling which is agreeable. Nor is it true that the stronger the emotion is, so much the fitter for this purpose; for if we exceed a certain measure, instead of a sympathetic and delightful sorrow, we excite only

*

Reflexions Critiques sur la Poesie et sur la Peinture.

horror and aversion. The most, therefore, that can be concluded from the Abbe's premises, is, that it is useful to excite passion of some kind or other, but not that the distressing ones are the fittest.

According to Fontenelle*, theatrical representation has almost the effect of reality; but yet not altogether. We have still a certain idea of falsehood in the whole of what we see. We weep for the misfortunes of a hero to whom we are attached. In the same instant, we comfort ourselves by reflecting, that it is nothing but a fiction.

The short answer to this is, that we are conscious of no such alternation as that here described.

According to David Hume, whose hypothesis is a kind of supplement to the former two, that which, "when the sorrow is not softened by fiction, raises a pleasure from the bosom of uneasiness, a pleasure, which still retains all the features and outward symptoms of distress and sorrow, is that very eloquence with which the melancholy scene is represented."

In reply, Dr. Campbell has shown that the aggravating of all the circumstances of misery in

Reflexions sur la Poetique.

the representation, cannot make it be contemplated with pleasure, but must be the most effectual method for making it give greater pain; that the detection of the speaker's talents and address, which Hume's hypothesis implies, is in direct opposition to the fundamental maxim, that "it is essential to the art to conceal the art;" and that the supposition that there are two distinct effects produced by the eloquence on the hearers, one the sentiment of beauty, or of the harmony of oratorical numbers, the other the passion which the speaker purposes to raise in their minds, and that when the first predominates, the mixture of the two effects becomes exceedingly pleasant, and the reverse when the second is superior, is altogether imaginary.

According to Hawkesworth *, the compassion in question may be "resolved into that power of imagination, by which we apply the misfortunes of others to ourselves;" and we are said "to pity no longer than we fancy ourselves to suffer, and to be pleased only by reflecting that our sufferings are not real; thus indulging a dream of distress, from which we can awake whenever we please, to exult in our security, and enjoy the comparison of the fiction with the truth."

This hypothesis is evidently too gross to need reply.

Dr. Campbell has answered the preceding hypotheses at great length, and quite satisfactorily. I regret to say that his own is as worthless, as well as remarkably confused and unintelligible.

To Burke, who wrote at a later period, it falls to my lot to reply at greater length.

To examine this point concerning the effect of tragedy in a proper manner," says that writer, "we must previously consider how we are affected by the feelings of our fellow-creatures in circumstances of real distress. 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 shun such objects, if on the contrary it induces us to approach them, if it makes us dwell upon them, in this case I conceive we must have a delight or pleasure of some species or other in contemplating objects of this kind. . . Our delight in cases of this kind is very greatly heightened, if the sufferer be some excellent person who sinks under an unworthy fortune... The delight we have in such things hinders us from shunning scenes of misery; and the pains we feel, prompt us to relieve ourselves, in relieving those who suffer... In imitated distress, the only difference

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