deference and flattery, enjoy but a small share of happiness, while they are exposed to manifold distresses. To such a man, enslaved by ease and luxury, even the petty inconvenience in travelling, of a rough road, bad weather, or homely fare, are serious evils: he loses his tone of mind, turns peevish, and would wreak his resentment even upon the common accidents of life. Better far to use the goods of Fortune with moderation: a man who by temperance and activity hath acquired a hardy constitution, is, on the one hand, guarded against external accidents; and, on the other, is provided with great variety of enjoyment ever at command. 347. I shall close this chapter with an article more delicate than abstruse, namely, what authority custom ought to have over our taste in the fine arts. One particular is certain, that we cheerfully abandon to the authority of custom things that nature hath left indifferent. It is custom, not nature, that hath established a difference between the right hand and the left, so as to make it awkward and disagreeable to use the left where the right is commonly used. The various colors, though they affect us differently, are all of them agreeable in their purity; but custom has regulated that matter in another manner: a black skin upon a human being is to us disagreeable, and a white skin probably no less so to a negro. Thus things, originally indifferent, become agreeable or disagreeable by the force of custom. Nor will this be surprising after the discovery made above, that the original agreeableness or disagreeableness of an object is, by the influence of custom, often converted into the opposite quality. Proceeding to matters of taste, where there is naturally a preference of one thing before another, it is certain, in the first place, that our faint and more delicate feelings are readily susceptible of a bias from custom; and therefore that it is no proof of a defective taste to find these in some measure influenced by custom dress and the modes of external behavior are regulated by custom in every country: the deep red or vermilion with which the ladies in France cover their cheeks, appears to them beautiful in spite of nature; and strangers cannot altogether be justified in condemning that practice, considering the lawful authority of custom, or of the fashion, as it is called. It is told of the people who inhabit the skirts of the Alps facing the north, that the swelling they have universally in the neck is to them agreeable. So far has custom power to change the nature of things, and to make an object originally disagreeable take on an opposite appearance.* [Perhaps a more satisfactory account of this matter will be found in the following observations from the pen of Dr. Mark Hopkins: "Association is the sole foundation of the value which we put upon some articles, and of the beauty which we find in others. Thus, a lock of hair, 846. Power of custom to put rich and poor on a level.-A voluptuous life not to be envied. 347. The authority that custom ought to have over our taste in the fine arts.-Things origi nally indifferent, become agreeable or disagreeable by force of custom.-Dress, &c.--The effect of association. 348. But, as to every particular that can be denominated proper or improper, right or wrong, custom has little authority, and ought to have none. The principle of duty takes naturally place of every other; and it argues a shameful weakness or degeneracy of mind to find it in any case so far subdued as to submit to custom. These few hints may enable us to judge in some measure of foreign manners, whether exhibited by foreign writers or our own. A comparison between the ancients and the moderns was some time ago a favorite subject: those who declared for ancient manners thought it sufficient that these manners were supported by custom: heir antagonists, on the other hand, refusing submission to custom as a standard of taste, condemned ancient manners as in several instances irrational. In that controversy, an appeal being made to different principles, without the slightest attempt to establish a common standard, the dispute could have no end. The hints above given tend to establish a standard for judging how far the authority of custom ought to be held lawful; and, for the sake of illustration, we shall apply that standard in a few instances. 349. Human sacrifices, the most dismal effect of blind and grovelling superstition, wore gradually out of use by the prevalence of reason and humanity. In the days of Sophocles and Euripides, traces of that practice were still recent; and the Athenians, through the prevalence of custom, could without disgust suffer human sacrifices to be represented in their theatre, of which the Iphigenia of Euripides is a proof. But a human sacrifice, being altogether inconsistent with modern manners as producing horror instead of pity, cannot with any propriety be introduced upon a modern stage. I must therefore condemn the Iphigenia of Racine, which, instead of the tender and sympathetic passions, substitutes disgust and horror. Another objection occurs against every fable that deviates so remarkably from improved notions and sentiments; which is, that if it should even command our belief by the authority of history, it ap pears too fictitious and unnatural to produce a perception of reality (see chapter ii. part i. sec. 7): a human sacrifice is so unnatural, and to us so improbable, that few will be affected with the representation of it more than with a fairy tale. valueless in itself, may, from associations connected with it, have a value which money cannot measure; and articles of dress, which would otherwise ba to us indifferent or odious, become beautiful by their association with those persons whom we have been accustomed to consider as models of elegance. It is indeed astonishing what an effect this principle will have upon our feelings; and from looking too exclusively at facts connected with it, some have sen led to doubt whether there is any such thing as a permanent principle of ste. It would really seem that, within the bounds of comfort and decency, oth of which are often outraged by fashion, one mode of dress may coine to e as becoming as another."] 848. Authority of custom in matters of right and wrong.-Of ancient manners as com ared with modern.-How far custom ought to justify certain manners. 849. Human sacrifices represented before the Athenians.-The Iphigenia of Euripides and that of Racine. CHAPTER XV. EXTERNAL SIGNS OF EMOTIONS AND PASSIONS. 350. So intimately connected are the soul and body, that every agitation in the former produceth a visible effect upon the latter. There is, at the same time, a wonderful uniformity in that operation; each class of emotions and passions being invariably attended with an external appearance peculiar to itself.* These external appearances or signs may not improperly be considered as a natural language, expressing to all beholders emotions and passions as they arise in the heart. Hope, fear, joy, grief, are displayed externally: the character of a man can be read in his face and beauty, which makes so deep an impression, is known to result, not so much from regular features, or a fine complexion, as from good-nature, good sense, sprightliness, sweetness, or other mental quality, expressed upon the countenance. Though perfect skill in that language be rare, yet what is generally known is sufficient for the ordinary purposes of life. But by what means we come to understand the language, is a point of some intricacy; it cannot be by sight merely; for upon the most attentive inspection of the human face, all that can be discerned, are figure, color, and motion, which, singly or combined, never can represent a passion, nor a sentiment: the external sign is indeed visible; but to understand its meaning we must be able to connect it with the passion that causes it, an operation far beyond the reach of eyesight. Where, then, is the instructor to be found that can unveil this secret connection? If we apply to experience, it is yielded, that from long and diligent observation, we may gather, in some measure, in what manner those we are acquainted with express their passions externally; but with respect to strangers, we are left in the dark; and yet we are not puzzled about the meaning of these external expressions in a stranger, more than in a bosom-companion. Further, had we no other means but experience for understanding the external signs of passion, we could not expect any degree of skill in the bulk of individuals: yet matters are so much better ordered, that the external expressions of passions form a language understood by all, by the young as well as the old, by the ignorant as well as the learned: I talk of the plain * Omnis enim motus animi, suum quemdam a natura habet vultum et sonum et gestum. Cicero, 1. iii. De Oratore. 850. Effect of the mind upon the body.-Natural language of passion.--What beauty results from.-How we come to understand this natural language.-Cousin's remarks. and egible characters of that language; for undoubtedly we are much indebted to experience in deciphering the dark and more delicate expressions.* 351. The external signs of passion are of two kinds, voluntary and involuntary. The voluntary signs are also of two kinds: some are arbitrary, some natural. Words are obviously voluntary signs and they are also arbitrary; excepting a few simple sounds expressive of certain internal emotions, which sounds being the same in all languages, must be the work of nature: thus the unpremeditated tones of admiration are the same in all men; as also of compassion, resentment, and despair. Dramatic writers ought to be well acquainted with this natural language of passion: the chief talent of such a writer is a ready command of the expressions that nature dictates to every person, when any vivid emotion struggles for utterance; and the chief talent of a fine reader is a ready command of tones suited to these expressions. 352. The other kind of voluntary signs comprehends certain attitudes or gestures that naturally accompany certain emotions with a surprising uniformity: excessive joy is expressed by leaping, dancing, or some elevation of the body; excessive grief, by sinking or depressing it; and prostration and kneeling have been employed by all nations, and in all ages, to signify profound veneration. Another circumstance, still more than uniformity, demonstrates these gestures to be natural, viz. their remarkable conformity or resemblance to the passions that produce them. (See chapter ii. part vi.) Joy, which is a cheerful elevation of mind, is expressed by an elevation of body: pride, magnanimity, courage, and the whole tribe of ele vating passions, are expressed by external gestures that are the same as to the circumstance of elevation, however distinguishable in other respects; and hence an erect posture is a sign or expression of dignity: Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, In naked majesty, seem'd lords of all.-Paradise Lost, Book iv. * [Well has Cousin remarked:-"Instead of a statue, observe a real and äving man. Regard that man who, solicited by the strongest motives to sacrifice duty to fortune, triumphs over interest, after a heroic struggle, and sacrifices fortune to virtue. Regard him at the moment when he is about to take this magnanimous resolution; his face will appear to me beautiful, because it expresses the beauty of his soul. Perhaps, under all other circumstances, the face of the man is common, even trivial'; here, illustrated by the soul which it manifests, it is ennobled and takes an imposing character of beauty. So, the natural face of Socrates contrasts strongly with the type of Grecian beauty; but look at him on his death-bed, at the moment of drinking the hemlock, conversing with his disciples on the immortality of the soul, and his face will appear to you sublime."-Lect. vii. p. 147.] 851. External signs of passion twofold.-The voluntary, of two kinds; arbitrary and atural.--The chief talent of dramatic writers and of fine readers. 352. Natural attitas and gestures: Their conformity to the passions producing them. Grief, on the other hand, as well as respect, which depress the mind, canno, for that reason, be expressed more significantly than by a simdar depression of the body; and hence, to be cast down, is a common phrase, signifying to be grieved or dispirited.* 353. One would not imagine, who has not given peculiar attenion, that the body should be susceptible of such variety of attitude and motion as readily to accompany every different emotion with a corresponding expression. Humility, for example, is expressed naturally by hanging the head; arrogance, by its elevation; and languor or despondence by reclining it to one side. The expressions of the hands are manifold: by different attitudes and motions, they express desire, hope, fear; they assist us in promising, in inviting, in keeping one at a distance; they are made instruments of threatening, or supplication, of praise, and of horror; they are employed in approving, in refusing, in questioning; in showing our joy, our sorrow, our doubts, our regret, our admiration. These expressions, so obedient to passion, are extremely difficult to be imitated in a calm state the ancients, sensible of the advantage as well as difficulty of having these expressions at command, bestowed much time and care in collecting them from observation, and in digesting them into a practical art, which was taught in their schools as au important branch of education. Certain sounds are by nature allotted to each passion for expressing it externally. The actor who has these sounds at command to captivate the ear, is mighty; if he have also proper gestures at command to captivate the eye, he is irresistible. 354. The foregoing signs, though in a strict sense voluntary, cannot, however, be restrained but with the utmost difficulty when prompted by passion. We scarce need a stronger proof than the gestures of a keen player at bowls: observe only how he writhes his body, in order to restore a stray bowl to the right track. It is one article of good-breeding to suppress, as much as possibie, these external signs of passion, that we may not in company appear too warm, or too interested. The same observation holds in speech: a passion, it is true, when in extreme, is silent (see chap. xvii.); but when less violent it must be vented in words, which have a peculiar force not to be equalled in a sedate composition. The ease and security we have in a confidant, may encourage us to talk of ourselves and of our feelings; but the cause is more general; for it operates *Instead of a complimental speech in addressing a superior, the Chinese deliver the compliment in writing, the smallness of the letters being proportioned to the degree of respect; and the highest compliment is to make the letters so small as not to be legible. Here is a clear evidence of a mental connection between respect and littleness: a man bumbles himself before his superior, and endeavors to contract himself and his handwriting within the smallest bounds. 853. The great variety of attitude and gesture of which the body is susceptible for ex pressing emotion. What the head and the hands may express, |