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2. Stage-plays also drew me away, full of representations of my
miseries and of fuel to my fire.' Why does man like to be made sad
when viewing doleful and tragical scenes, which yet he himself would by
no means suffer? And yet he wishes, as a spectator, to experience
from them a sense of grief, and in this very grief his,pleasure
consists. What is this but wretched insanity?" For a man is more
effected with these actions, the less free he is from such affections.
Howsoever, when he suffers in his own person, it is the custom to
style it "misery but when he compassionates others, then it is styled
"mercy."' But what kind of mercy is it that arises from fictitious
and scenic passions? The hearer is not expected to relieve, but
merely invited to grieve; and the more he grieves, the more he
applauds the actor of these fictions. And if the misfortunes of the
characters (whether of olden times or merely imaginary) be so
represented as not to touch the feelings of the spectator, he goes away
disgusted and censorious; but if his feelings be touched, he sits it
out attentively, and sheds tears of joy.
3. Are sorrows, then, also loved? Surely all men desire to
rejoice? Or, as man wishes to be miserable, is he, nevertheless,
glad to be merciful, which, because it cannot exist without passion,
for this cause alone are passions loved? This also is from that vein
of friendship. But whither does it go? Whither does it flow?
Wherefore runs it into that torrent of pitch,' seething forth those
huge tides of loathsome lusts into which it is changed and transformed,
being of its own will cast away and corrupted from its celestial
clearness? Shall, then, mercy be repudiated? By no means. Let
us, therefore, love sorrows sometimes. But beware of uncleanness,
O my soul, under the protection of my God, the God of our fathers,
who is to be praised and exalted above all for ever, beware of
uncleanness. For I have not now ceased to have compassion; but then
in the theatres I sympathized with lovers when they sinfully enjoyed
one another, although this was done fictitiously in the play. And
when they lost one another, I grieved with them, as if pitying them,
and yet had delight in both. But now-a-days I feel much more pity
for him that delighteth in his wickedness, than for him who is counted
as enduring hardships by failing to obtain some pernicious pleasure,
and the loss of some miserable felicity. This, surely, is the truer
mercy, but grief hath no delight in it. For though he that condoles
with the unhappy be approved for his office of charity, yet would he
who had real compassion rather there were nothing for him to grieve
about. For if goodwill be ill-willed (which it cannot), then can
he who is truly and sincerely commiserating wish that there should be
some unhappy ones, that he might commiserate them. Some grief may
then be justified, none loved. For thus dost Thou, O Lord God,
who lovest souls far more purely than do we, and art more incorruptibly
compassionate, although Thou art wounded by no sorrow."And who is
sufficient for these things?"
4. But I, wretched one, then loved to grieve, I and sought out
what to grieve at, as when, in another man's misery, though reigned
and counterfeited, that delivery of the actor best pleased me, and
attracted me the most powerfully, which moved me to tears. 'What
marvel was it that an unhappy sheep, straying from Thy flock, and
impatient of Thy care, I became infected with a foul disease? And
hence came my love of griefs -not such as should probe me too
deeply, for I loved not to suffer such things as I loved to look
upon, but such as, when hearing their fictions, should lightly affect
the surface; upon which, like as with empoisoned nails, followed
burning, swelling, putrefaction, and horrible corruption. Such was
my life! But was it life, O my God?
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