Opposite emotions are so dissimilar as not to admit any sort of union, even where they proceed from causes the most intimately connected. Love to a mistress, and resentment for her infidelity, are of this nature. They cannot exist otherwise than in succession, which by the connection of their causes is commonly rapid. And these emotions will govern alternately, till one of them obtain the ascendent, or both be obliterated. A succession opens to me by the death of a worthy man, who was my friend as well as my kinsman. When I think of my friend I am grieved; but the succession gives me joy. These two causes are intimately connected, for the succession is the direct consequence of my friend’s death. The emotions however being opposite, do not mix: they prevail alternately, perhaps for a course of time, till grief for my friend’s death be banished by the pleasures of opulence. A virtuous man suffering unjustly, is an example of the same kind. I pity him, and I have great indignation at the author of the wrong. These emotions proceed from causes nearly connected; but being directed upon different objects, they are not forced into union. The opposition preserves them distinct; and accordingly they are found to govern alternately, the one sometimes prevailing and sometimes the other. Next of dissimilar emotions arising from unconnected causes. Good and bad news of equal importance arriving at the same instant from different quarters, produce opposite emotions, the discordance of which is not felt because they are not forced into union. They govern alternately, commonly in a quick succession, till their force be spent. In the same manner, good news arriving to a man labouring under distress, occasions a vibration in his mind from the one to the other. _Osmyn._ By heav’n thou’st rous’d me from my lethargy. The spirit which was deaf to my own wrongs, And the loud cries of my dead father’s blood, Deaf to revenge--nay, which refus’d to hear The piercing sighs and murmurs of my love Yet unenjoy’d; what not Almeria could Revive, or raise, my people’s voice has waken’d. O my Antonio, I am all on fire, My soul is up in arms, ready to charge And bear amidst the foe with conqu’ring troops. I hear ’em call to lead ’em on to liberty, To victory; their shouts and clamours rend My ears, and reach the heav’ns: where is the king? Where is Alphonso? ha! where! where indeed? O I could tear and burst the strings of life, To break these chains. Off, off, ye stains of royalty! Off, slavery! O curse, that I alone Can beat and flutter in my cage, when I Would soar and stoop at victory beneath! _Mourning Bride, act 3. sc. 2._