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aptitude of pity to produce love, is beautifully illustrat-
Othello. Her father lov'd me ; oft invited me;
All there to hear
Othello, azt is, 3. In this instance it will be observed that admiracion concurred with pity to produce love.
Causes of the Pasions of Fear and Anger.
EAR and anger, to answer the purposes of nature, are happily' so contrived as to operate fometimes instinctively, sometimes deliberately, according to · circumstances. As far as deliberate, 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 shall employ. These particulars are no less obvious than natural. But, as the pafsions of fear and anger, in their instinctive state, are less familiar to us, it
may be acceptable to the reader to have them accurately delineated. He may also possibly be glad of an opportunity to have the nature of instinctive paffions more fully explained, than there was formerly opportunity to do. I begin with fear.
Self-preservation is a matter of too great importance to be left entirely to the conduct of reafon. Nature hath acted here with her usual fore. fight. Fear and anger are passions that move us to act, sometimes deliberately, sometimes instinctively, according to circumstances ; and by operating in the latter manner, they frequently afford security when the flower operations of deliberate 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. Here we have an illustrious instance of wisdom in the formation of
man ; for it is not within the reach of fancy, to conceive any thing more artfully contrived to answer its purpose, than the instinctive passion of fear, which, upon the first surmise of danger, operates instantaneously, So little doth the paflion, in such instances, depend on reason, that it frequently operates in contradiction to it; a man who is not upon his guard cannot avoid shrinking at a blow though he knows it to be aimed in sport; nor avoid closing his eyes at the approach of what may hurt them, though conscious that he is in no danger. 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, in a brisk gale, bear much to one side, I cannot avoid applying the whole force of my shoulders to set it upright; and, if my horse stumble, my hands and knees are instantly at work to prevent him from falling.
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 that passion, men, like defenceless lambs, would lie constantly open to mischief.* Deliberate anger caused by a voluntary injury, is too well known to require any explanation: if my desire be to resent an affront I must use means; and these means must be discovered by reflection : deliberation is here requisite; and in that case the palfion feldom exceeds just bounds. But, where anger impels one suddenly to return a blow, even without thinking of doing mischief, the passion is instinctive and it is, chiefly in such a case that it is rafh and ungovernable, because it operates blindly, without affording time for deliberation or foresight.
* Brasidas being bit by a mouse he had catched, let it slip out of his fin. gers: "No creature. (Tavs he) is so contemptible, but what may provide for its own safety, if it have courage." Plutarch, Apothegmata.
Instinctive an ger is frequently raised by bodily pain, by a stroke, for example, on a tender part, which, ruffling the temper, and unhinging the mind, is in its tone similar to anger : and 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 inflammable temper held a proper object, merely for having occafioned the pain. It is still more remarkable, that a stock or a stone by which I am hurt, becomes an object for my resentment: I am violently excited to crush it to atoms. The passion, indeed, in that case, can be but a fingle flah; for being entirely irrational, it must vanish with the first reflection. Nor is that irrational effect confined to bodi. ly pain : internal distress, when excessive, may be the occasion of effects equally irrational : perturbation of mind occasioned by the apprehension of having lost a dear friend, will, in a fiery temper, produce momentary sparks of anger against that very friend, however innocent : Thus Shakespear, in the Tempest, Alonzo.
-Sit down and rest.
A: 3. fc. 3. The final words, Well, let him go, are an expreffion of impatience and anger at Ferdinand, whose absence greatly distressed his father, dreading that he was lost in the storm. This nice operation of the human mind, is by Shakespear exhibited upon another occasion, and finely painted in the tragedy of Othello : Iago, by dark hints and suspicious circumstances, had roused Othello's jealousy; which, however, appeared too flightly founded to be vented upon Desdemona, its proper object. The perturbation and distress of mind thereby occasioned,
produced a momentary resentment against Iago, con,
Othello. Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore ;
lago. Is't come to this?
Oihello. Make me fee't ; or, at the least, fo prove it,
lag. My noble Lord ---
Othello. If ihou dost slander her and torture me,
Othello, ał 2. sc. 8. This blind and absurd effe& of anger is more gaily illustrated by Addison, in a story, the dramatis perfonae of which are, a cardinal, and a spy retained in pay for intelligence. The cardinal is represented as minuting down the particulars. The spy begins with a low voice, “Such an one the advocate whispered to one of his friends within my hearing, that your Eminence was a very great poltroon ;” and after having given his patron time to take it down, adds, “ That another called him a mercenary rascal in a public conversation.” The cardinal replies,“ Very well, and bids him go on. The fpy proceeds, and loads him with reports of the same nature, till the cardinal rises in a fury, calls him an impudent scoundrel, and kicks him out of the room.*
We meet with instances every day of resentment raised by lofs at play, and wreaked on the cards or dice. But anger, a furious passion, is fatisfied with a connection still flighter than that of cause and effect;
of * Spectator, No. 439. Vol. I.