the senses, but the idea of the imagina|tion. As it is an idea, therefore, which occasions our uneasiness, till time and other accidents have in some measure ef|faced it from our memory, the imagina|tion continues to fret and rankle within, from the thought of it.
Pain never calls forth any very lively sym|pathy unless it is accompanied with danger. We sympathise with the fear, though not with the agony of the sufferer. Fear, how|ever, is a passion derived altogether from the imagination, which represents, with an uncertainty and fluctuation that in|creases our anxiety, not what we really feel, but what we may hereafter possibly suffer. The gout, or the tooth-ach, tho' exquisitely painful, excite very little sympa|thy; more dangerous diseases, tho' accom|panied with very little pain, excite the highest.
Some people faint and grow sick at the sight of a chirurgical operation, and that bodily pain which is occasioned by tearing the flesh, seems, in them, to excite the most excessive sympathy. We conceive in a much more lively and distinct man|ner, the pain which proceeds from an ex|ternal
