s, and although he
recovered, remained, nevertheless, so oblivious of his past life that he
did not believe the tales and tragedies he had composed were his own,
and he might, indeed, have been taken for a grown-up child if he had
also forgotten his native tongue. But if this seems incredible, what
shall we say of children? The man of mature years believes the nature of
children to be so different from his own, that it would be impossible
to persuade him he had ever been a child, if he did not conjecture
regarding himself from what he sees of others. But in order to avoid
giving to the superstitious matter for new questions, I prefer to go no
farther in the discussion of these matters.

II

_Value of Joy and Sorrow_

Joy is an emotion by which the body's power of action is increased or
assisted. Sorrow, on the other hand, is an emotion by which the body's
power of action is lessened or restrained, and therefore joy is not
directly evil, but good; sorrow, on the other hand, is directly evil.

III

_The Good Emotions_

Cheerfulness is joy, which, in so far as it is related to the body,
consists in this, that all the parts of the body are equally affected,
that is to say, the body's power of action is increased or assisted, so
that all the parts acquire the same proportion of motion and rest to
each other. Cheerfulness, therefore, is always good, and can never be
excessive. But melancholy is sorrow, which, in so far as it is related
to the body consists in this, that the body's power of action is
absolutely lessened or restrained, and melancholy, therefore, is always
evil.

Pleasurable excitement is joy, which, in so far as it is related to the
body, consists in this, that one or some of the parts of the body are
affected more than others. The power of this emotion may, therefore, be
so great as to overcome the other actions of the body. It may cling
obstinately to the body; it may impede the body in such a manner as to
render it less capable of being affected in many ways, and therefore may
be evil. Again, pain, which, on the contrary, is sorrow, considered in
itself alone cannot be good. But because its power and increase is
limited by the power of an external cause compared with our own power,
we can therefore conceive infinite degrees of strength of this emotion,
and infinite kinds of it, and we can therefore conceive it to be such
that it can restrain an excess of pleasurable excitement, and so far (by
t