SECTION III,

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MELANCHOLY JAQUES.

JAQUES, in AS-YOU-LIKE-IT, is

exhibited to us in extraordinary cir

cumstances, and in a fituation very romantic.

Lord. To-day my Lord of Amiens, and myself,
Did steal behind him, as he lay along
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:
To the which place a poor sequester'd itag,

That

That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my Lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting; and the big round tears,
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chace: and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.

Duke. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize this spectacle ?

Lord. O yes, into a thousand fimilies.
First, for his weeping in the needless stream;
Poor deer, quoth he, thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more,
To that which had too much. Then, being alone,
Left and abandoned of his velvet friends;
'Tis right, quoth he; thus mifery doth part
The flux of company. Anon, a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him,
And never stays to greet him. Ay, quoth Jaques,
Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion : wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?

The most striking character in the mind

of Jacques, according to this description,

is

is extreme sensibility. He difcovers a heart strongly difpofed to compaffion, and fufceptible of the most tender impressions of friendship: for he who can so feelingly deplore the abfence of kindness and humanity, must be capable of relishing the delight annexed to their exercise. But sensibility is the foil where nature has planted social and sweet affections: By sensibility they are cherished, and grow mature. Social dispositions produce all those amiable and endearing connections that alleviate the forrows of human life, adorn our nature, and render us happy. Now Jaques, avoiding society, and burying himself in the lonely forest, seems to act inconsistently with his conftitution. He possesses sensibility; sensibility begets affection; and affection begets the love of society. But Jaques is unsocial. Can these inconfiftent qualities be reconciled? Or has Shakespeare exhibited a character of which the parts are incongruous, and

discordant? In other words, how happens it that a temper disposed to beneficence, and addicted to social enjoyment, becomes folitary and morose? Changes of this kind are not unfrequent: And, if researches into the origin or cause of a dif temper can direct us in the discovery of an antidote or of a remedy, our present inquiry is of importance. Perhaps, the excess and luxuriancy of benevolent dispositions blighted by unkindness or ingratitude, is the cause that, instead of yielding us fruits of complacency and friendship, they shed bitter drops of misanthropy.

Aversion from society proceeds from diflike to mankind, and from an opinion of the inefficacy, and uncertainty of external pleasure. Let us confider each of these apart: Let us trace the progress by which they established themselves in the mind of Jaques, and gave his temper an unnatural colour.

I. The

τ

I. The gratification of our social affections supposes friendship and esteem fot others; and these dispositions suppose in their object virtues of a corresponding cha racter: For every one values his own opinion, and fancies the person to whom he teftifies esteem actually deserves it. If beneficent affections, ardent and undifciplined, predominate in our conftitution, and govern our opinions, we enter into life strongly prepossessed in favour of mankind, and endeavour, by a generous and disinterested conduct, to render ourselves worthy of their regard. That spirit of diffusive goodness, which eloquent and benign philosophy recommends, but without success, to men engaged in the commerce of the world, operates uncontrouled. The heart throbs with astonishment and indignation at every act of injustice, and our bowels yearn to relieve the afflicted. Our beneficence is unlimited: We are free from fufpicion : Our friend