ning
with envy against my competitor, I was awakened by the noise of the
cannon which were then fired for the taking of Mons. I should have been
very much troubled at being thrown out of so pleasing a vision on any
other occasion; but thought it an agreeable change, to have my thoughts
diverted from the greatest among the dead and fabulous heroes to the
most famous among the real and the living.

VIII.--LOVE AND SORROW.

From my own Apartment, October 17.

After the mind has been employed on contemplations suitable to its
greatness, it is unnatural to run into sudden mirth or levity; but
we must let the soul subside, as it rose, by proper degrees. My late
considerations of the ancient heroes impressed a certain gravity upon my
mind, which is much above the little gratification received from starts
of humour and fancy, and threw me into a pleasing sadness. In this state
of thought I have been looking at the fire, and in a pensive manner
reflecting upon the great misfortunes and calamities incident to human
life, among which there are none that touch so sensibly as those which
befall persons who eminently love, and meet with fatal interruptions
of their happiness when they least expect it. The piety of children to
parents, and the affection of parents to their children, are the effects
of instinct; but the affection between lovers and friends is founded
on reason and choice, which has always made me think the sorrows of
the latter much more to be pitied than those of the former. The
contemplation of distresses of this sort softens the mind of man, and
makes the heart better. It extinguishes the seeds of envy and ill-will
towards mankind, corrects the pride of prosperity, and beats down all
that fierceness and insolence which are apt to get into the minds of the
daring and fortunate.

For this reason the wise Athenians, in their theatrical performances,
laid before the eyes of the people the greatest afflictions which
could befall human life, and insensibly polished their tempers by
such representations. Among the moderns, indeed, there has arisen a
chimerical method of disposing the fortune of the persons represented,
according to what they call poetical justice; and letting none be
unhappy but those who deserve it. In such cases, an intelligent
spectator, if he is concerned, knows he ought not to be so, and can
learn nothing from such a tenderness, but that he is a weak creature,
whose passions cannot follow