tions, all the lingering agonies, to which the unhappy victims are subjected, the exertions of energy and fortitude, which are thus called forth, excite interesting, and, consequently, pleasing sympathies; and afford a spectacle of entertaining, and even grateful horror, to the savage tormentors.

11. Even in civilized societies, a sort of prurient fondness for attending the executions of criminals is often observable, which arises from the same principle: for men are not so perversely constituted by nature, as ever to feel delight in beholding the sufferings of those who never injured them; but, nevertheless, they all feel delight in beholding exertions of energy; and all feel curiosity to know in what modes or degrees, those exertions can be displayed, under the awful circumstances of impending death, With those exertions they sympathize; and, therefore, feel an interest not in proportion to the sufferings, but to the heroism and gallantry of the person executed; unless in particular instances, where indigna tion at the atrocity of the crime stifles every other sentiment,

12. When the stoic philosopher says that a great and virtuous man struggling with adversity is a spectacle, upon which the gods might look down with pleasure; it is not that he supposes the nature of the deity to be cruel,

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Of the Sublime and Pathetic.

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Of the Su

or to delight in scenes of anguish and distress; but because adversity and distress call forth blime and those energies of the human mind, in which its Pathetic. superiority over all other terrestrial beings

seemed principally to consist; and of which the full exertion might render it an object worthy of the attention, and even of the admiration of higher orders of intelligences.

13. But, how much soever the calm energies of virtue, called forth by exertions of passive fortitude, may interest the philosophical and contemplative mind, its more active and violent efforts, displayed in feats of strength, courage, and dexterity; in the tumultuous battle, or deadly combat; are always far more interesting to the vulgar. When the Abbé du Bos, therefore, asserts that the Romans, by prohibiting human sacrifices, indirectly coudemned their taste for the fights of gladiators, he confounds two things, which are extremely different; and thence attributes to those sanguinary destroyers of mankind, an inconsis tency, which only existed in his own ideas. A lover of cock-fighting would think it very strange to be told that he condemned his own taste for so heroic a diversion, by expressing a dislike to see cocks killed in a poulterer's yard; and the frequenters of bull-baiting in England, or of bull-feasts in Spain, would by no means allow that a butcher's slaughter

amusement.

house could afford them equal, or similar To render such spectacles interesting, there must be a display of courage, vigour, and address: for it is by sympathizing with the energetic passions, that the spectators are amused or delighted: and though the energies of passive fortitude might have been displayed by the victims of superstition, as well as by those of justice, or injustice; they must, nevertheless, have been very flat and insipid, compared with those, which shone forth in the varied and animated contests of the amphitheatre; where the contention was equal, and life and honour the prize contended for. Our boxing matches are contests of the same kind upon a lower scale; and the frequenters of them would probably feel as much horror and disgust as any other persons, were they to see men deprived of the power of resistance, or, opposed to very unequal force, beaten as the several combatants beat each other but the display of manly intrepidity, firmness, gallantry, activity, strength, and presence of mind, which these contests call forth, is an honour to the English nation, and such as no man needs be ashamed of viewing with interest, pride and delight: and we may safely predict, that if the magistrates, through a mistaken notion of preserving the public peace, succeed in suppressing them, there will be an

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end of that sense of honour and spirit of galOf the Su- lantry, which distinguishes the common people blime and of this country from that of all others; and Pathetic. which is not only the best guardian of their

morals, but perhaps the only security now left either for our civil liberty or political independence. If men are restrained from fighting occasionally for prizes and honorary distinctions, they will soon cease to fight at all; and decide their private quarrels with daggers instead of fists; in which case, the lower order will become a base rabble of cowards and assassins, ready at any time to sacrifice the higher to the avarice and ambition of a foreign tyrant.

14. It is observed, by the great father of philosophical criticism, that the radical dif ference between tragedy and comedy is that the one exhibits the characters of men superior, and the other, inferior to those of ordinary nature *; that is, tragedy displays the energies, and comedy, the weaknesses of humanity for, in tragedy, it is not the actual distress; but the motives, for which it is endured; the exertions, which it calls forth; and the sentiments of heroism, fortitude, constancy, or tenderness, which it, in consequence, displays, that produce the interest; and awaken all the

Aristot. Poet. f. iv.

331

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blime and Pathetic.

exquisite and delightful thrills of sympathy. The distress of a miser, for the loss of his money, is as real, and as great, as that of a lover of the Sufor the loss of his mistress; or of a hero for the loss of his honour: but, nevertheless, as it is purely selfish, it awakens no sympathy; nor is it ever employed except to excite ridicule or aversion. The pains of natural, or accidental disease, are as distressing to the sufferer, as the punishments inflicted by a tyrant, and are equally subjects of sympathy to his friends: but, as they appertain solely to himself; and are the result of accident, intemperance, or physical necessity, they neither display any voluntary exertions of disinterested fortitude; nor call forth any enthusiastic effusions of generosity, or tenderness: wherefore no writer has ever thought of heightening the distress of his tragedy, by giving his hero a fit of the gout, the stone, or the colic; though these, perhaps, may be more real and serious evils, than any, which he makes him endure.

15. All the distress of dramatic fiction is known and felt, at the time of its exhibition, to be merely fiction: but the sentiments, excited by it, are really expressed; and expressed, too, with all the truth and energy, which real feelings could inspire; accompanied with all the graces of emphasis, tone, and gesture; which can convey those feelings to the soul of