Antony. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
You all do know this mantle; I remember
The first time ever Cæsar put it on,
’Twas on a summer’s evening in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii——
Look! in this place ran Cassius’ dagger through;—
See what a rent the envious Casca made.——
Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb’d;
And as he pluck’d his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow’d it!
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv’d,
If Brutus so unkindly knock’d, or no:
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar’s angel.
Judge, oh you gods! how dearly Cæsar lov’d him;
This, this, was the unkindest cut of all;
For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms,
Quite vanquish’d him; then burst his mighty heart:
And, in his mantle muffling up his face,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell,
Even at the base of Pompey’s statue.
O what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourish’d over us.
O, now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind souls! what, weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar’s vesture wounded? look you here!
Here is himself, marr’d, as you see, by traitors.
Julius Cæsar, act 3. sc. 6.
Had Antony directed upon the conspirators the thoughts of his audience, without paving the way by raising their grief, his speech perhaps might have failed of success.
Hatred and other dissocial passions, produce effects directly opposite to those above mentioned. If I hate a man, his children, his relations, nay his property, become to me objects of aversion. His enemies, on the other hand, I am disposed to esteem.
The more slight and transitory connections, have generally no power to produce a communicated passion. Anger, when sudden and violent, is one exception; for if the person who did the injury be removed out of reach, this passion will vent itself upon any related object, however slight the relation be. Another exception makes a greater figure. A group of beings or things, becomes often the object of a communicated passion, even where the relation of the individuals to the principal object is but faint. Thus though I put no value upon a single man for living in the same town with myself; my townsmen however, considered in a body, are preferred before others. This is still more remarkable with respect to my countrymen in general. The grandeur of the complex object, swells the passion of self-love by the relation I have to my native country; and every passion, when it swells beyond its ordinary bounds, hath, in that circumstance, a peculiar tendency to expand itself along related objects. In fact, instances are not rare, of persons, who, upon all occasions, are willing to sacrifice their lives and fortunes for their country. Such influence upon the mind of man, hath a complex object, or, more properly speaking, a general term[21].
The sense of order hath, in the communication of passion, an influence not less remarkable than in the communication of emotions. It is a common observation, that a man’s affection to his parents is less vigorous than to his children. The order of nature in descending to children, aids the transition of the affection. The ascent to a parent, contrary to this order, makes the transition more difficult. Gratitude to a benefactor is readily extended to his children; but not so readily to his parents. The difference however betwixt the natural and inverted order, is not so considerable, but that it may be balanced by other circumstances. Pliny[22] gives an account of a woman of rank condemned to die for a crime; and, to avoid public shame, detained in prison to die of hunger. Her life being prolonged beyond expectation, it was discovered, that she was nourished by sucking milk from the breasts of her daughter. This instance of filial piety, which aided the transition and made ascent not less easy than descent is for ordinary, procured a pardon to the mother, and a pension to both. The story of Androcles and the lion[23] may be accounted for in the same manner. The admiration, of which the lion was the cause, for his kindness and gratitude to Androcles, produced good-will to Androcles, and pardon of his crime.
And this leads to other observations upon communicated passions. I love my daughter less after she is married, and my mother less after a second marriage. The marriage of my son or my father diminishes not my affection so remarkably. The same observation holds with respect to friendship, gratitude, and other passions. The love I bear my friend, is but faintly extended to his married daughter. The resentment I have against a man, is readily extended against children who make part of his family: not so readily against children who are forisfamiliated, especially by marriage. This difference is also more remarkable in daughters than in sons. These are curious facts; and to evolve the cause we must examine minutely, that operation of the mind by which a passion is extended to a related object. In considering two things as related, the mind is not stationary, but passeth and repasseth from the one to the other, viewing the relation from each of them perhaps oftener than once. This holds more especially in considering a relation betwixt things of unequal rank, as betwixt the cause and the effect, or betwixt a principal and an accessory. In contemplating the relation betwixt a building and its ornaments, the mind is not satisfied with a single transition from the former to the latter. It must also view the relation, beginning at the latter, and passing from it to the former. This vibration of the mind in passing and repassing betwixt things that are related, explains the facts above mentioned. The mind passeth easily from the father to the daughter; but where the daughter is married, this new relation attracts the mind, and obstructs, in some measure, the return from the daughter to the father. Any obstruction the mind meets with in passing and repassing betwixt its objects, occasions a like obstruction in the communication of passion. The marriage of a male obstructs less the easiness of transition; because a male is less sunk by the relation of marriage than a female.
The foregoing instances, are of passion communicated from one object to another. But one passion may be generated by another, without change of object. It may in general be observed, that a passion paves the way to others, similar in their tone, whether directed upon the same or upon a different object. For the mind heated by any passion, is, in that state, more susceptible of a new impression in a similar tone, than when cool and quiescent. It is a common observation, that pity generally produceth friendship for a person in distress. Pity interests us in its object, and recommends all its virtuous qualities. For this reason, female beauty shows best in distress; and is more apt to inspire love, than upon ordinary occasions. But it is chiefly to be remarked, that pity, warming and melting the spectator, prepares him for the reception of other tender affections; and pity is readily improved into love or friendship, by a certain tenderness and concern for the object, which is the tone of both passions. The aptitude of pity to produce love is beautifully illustrated by Shakespear.
Othello. Her father lov’d me, oft invited me;
Still question’d me the story of my life,
From year to year; the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have past.
I ran it through, e’en from my boyish days,
To th’ very moment that he bad me tell it:
Wherein I spoke of most disast’rous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth ’scapes in th’ imminent deadly breach;
Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And with it, all my travel’s history.
—————— All these to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline;
But still the house-affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch,
She’d come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse: which I observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not distinctively. I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke
That my youth suffer’d. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:
She swore, in faith, ’twas strange, ’twas passing strange—
’Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful—
She wish’d she had not heard it:—yet she wish’d,
That heav’n had made her such a man:—she thank’d me,
And bad me, if I had a friend that lov’d her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. On this hint I spake,
She lov’d me for the dangers I had past,
And I lov’d her, that she did pity them:
This only is the witchcraft I have us’d.
Othello, act 1. sc. 8.
In this instance it will be observed that admiration concurred with pity to produce love.