interests us, but some other circumstance. It is not the sore foot, but the solitude, of Philoctetes which affects us, and dif|fuses over that charming tragedy, that ro|mantic wildness, which is so agreeable to the imagination. The agonies of Hercules and Hippolytus are interesting only be|cause we forsee that death is to be the conse|quence. If those heroes were to recover, we should think the representation of their sufferings perfectly ridiculous. What a tra|gedy would that be of which the distress con|sisted in a cholic. Yet no pain is more exquisite. These attempts to excite com|passion by the representation of bodily pain, may be regarded as among the greatest breaches of decorum of which the Greek theatre has set the example.
The little sympathy which we feel with bodily pain is the foundation of the pro|priety of constancy and patience in endur|ing it. The man, who under the seve|rest tortures allows no weakness to escape him, vents no groan, gives way to no passion which we do not entirely enter in|to, commands our highest admiration. His firmness enables him to keep time with our indifference and insensibility.
