How hearty are the acclamations of the mob, who never bear any envy to
their superiors, at a triumph or a public entry? And how sedate and
moderate is commonly their grief at an execution? Our sorrow at a
funeral generally amounts to no more than an affected gravity; but our
mirth at a christening or a marriage, is always from the heart, and
without any affectation. Upon these, and all such joyous occasions,
our satisfaction, though not so durable, is often as lively as that of
the persons principally concerned. Whenever we cordially congratulate
our friends, which, however, to the disgrace of human nature, we do
but seldom, their joy literally becomes our joy: we are, for the
moment, as happy as they are: our heart swells and overflows with real
pleasure: joy and complacency sparkle from our eyes, and animate every
feature of our countenance, and every gesture of our body.
But on the contrary, when we condole with our friends in their
afflictions, how little do we feel, in comparison of what they feel?
We sit down by them, we look at them, and while they relate to us the
circumstances of their misfortune, we listen to them with gravity and
attention. But while their narration is every moment interrupted by
those natural bursts of passion which often seem almost to choke them
in the midst of it; how far are the languid emotions of our hearts
from keeping time to the transports of theirs? We may be sensible, at
the same time, that their passion is natural, and no greater than what
we ourselves might feel upon the like occasion. We may even inwardly
reproach ourselves with our own want of sensibility, and perhaps, on
that account, work ourselves up into an artificial sympathy, which
however, when it is raised, is always the slightest and most
transitory imaginable; and generally, as soon as we have left the
room, vanishes, and is gone for ever. Nature, it seems, when she
loaded us with our own sorrows, thought they were enough, and
therefore did not command us to take any further share in those of
others, than what was necessary to prompt us to relieve them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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