joyment.

When poets form descriptions of Elysian fields, where the blessed
inhabitants stand in no need of each other's assistance, they yet
represent them as maintaining a constant intercourse of love and
friendship, and sooth our fancy with the pleasing image of these soft
and gentle passions. The idea of tender tranquillity in a pastoral
Arcadia is agreeable from a like principle, as has been observed above.
[Footnote: Sect. v. Part 2.]

Who would live amidst perpetual wrangling, and scolding, and mutual
reproaches? The roughness and harshness of these emotions disturb and
displease us: we suffer by contagion and sympathy; nor can we remain
indifferent spectators, even though certain that no pernicious
consequences would ever follow from such angry passions.

As a certain proof that the whole merit of benevolence is not derived
from its usefulness, we may observe, that in a kind way of blame, we
say, a person is TOO GOOD; when he exceeds his part in society, and
carries his attention for others beyond the proper bounds. In
like manner, we say, a man is too HIGH-SPIRITED, TOO INTREPID, TOO
INDIFFERENT ABOUT FORTUNE: reproaches, which really, at bottom, imply
more esteem than many panegyrics. Being accustomed to rate the merit and
demerit of characters chiefly by their useful or pernicious tendencies,
we cannot forbear applying the epithet of blame, when we discover a
sentiment, which rises to a degree, that is hurtful; but it may happen,
at the same time, that its noble elevation, or its engaging tenderness
so seizes the heart, as rather to increase our friendship and concern
for the person.

[Footnote: Cheerfulness could scarce admit of blame from its
excess, were it not that dissolute mirth, without a proper cause or
subject, is a sure symptom and characteristic of folly, and on that
account disgustful.]

The amours and attachments of Harry the IVth of France, during the civil
wars of the league, frequently hurt his interest and his cause; but all
the young, at least, and amorous, who can sympathize with the tender
passions, will allow that this very weakness, for they will readily call
it such, chiefly endears that hero, and interests them in his fortunes.

The excessive bravery and resolute inflexibility of Charles the XIIth
ruined his own country, and infested all his neighbours; but have
such splendour and greatness in their appearance, as strikes us with
admiration; and they might, in some degree