The Alexandria herald. [volume] (Alexandria [Va.]) 1811-1826, 1823-04-21
Gbc Gan .Inunii. No. II.
FOR rue ALEXANDRIA HEnALB
MELANCHOLY.


ing ourselves in melancholy, in musiDg
over scenes of past qualification, or past
| disappointment, is equal, if not superior,
to the happiness that arises, from lively
and immoderate Joy. So materially
| connected is the chain of all our passions,
that the slightest touch of the one, ocea-
| sions corresponding shock in the whole,
| and pain is as often the forerunner of
pleasure, az pleasure is the follower of
pain. But in melancholy, these two
sources Of feeling seem to have entered
into kind OF compact. and to have bu-
ried their former animosity. Like two
| opposing streams tina, 'precipitste them>
selves with violence against each other.
and gradually branch of into narrow
inlet, and become finally united In one.
So it is with melancholy joy and pain
are equally conducive to the interest it
affords US, and we cannot DO said to have
| thoroughly entered into It's feelings with
| out participation of the effects Of both.
melancholy. there are several kinds !:
but the one of which we speak, is that
pensivc sadness of mind, which through
| the medium of memory and sensibility,
raises us above the common thoughts Of
| man, and endues US with tenderness
| little inferior to divine. There is . re.
fnement, an intellectual fervour, and a
luxury in it that infuses over the soul q
| mourniul and pleasing serenity. He
who is the victim OF 1t, finds within him
self source of amusement that is mex
haustible. He is never more happy than
when he is in the silence Of retirement.
Assisted by memory, the past appear:
before him, however, destructive it ha.
4 been to his peace, clothed in thousans
Interesting colours and fanciful allure
ments. Almost every person who i
gifted with the least sensibilily, is mor
or less addicted to il, and sometimes
would not, il l'e could, be gay.
| 1t is to the spectator, alone, that me.
iancholy is forblddiDg. We ara too apr
to reprehend that, which abstracts the
mind from every thing but ITSELF ana
which Is. seemingly, so destitute of inte-
rest. Rut let him ask the unfortunate
why he seeks the gloom of the fores,
and the man of disappointed ambition.
the silence of solitude, in preference IL
a gay and cheerful society Let him ask
the lover why he pines in secret, or mu.
ses by the side of some purling brook,
or sends forth his lamentations on the
breeze? They will tell him they derive
a delight from melancholy, that nothing
else can impart, and that they envy little,
that mans sensibility, who has never ex.
perienced it.
II is this feeling which produces such
| emotions in our bosoms, when we visit
any ofthose scenes, dear to US from their
connection with antiquity. When we
stand upon the ruins of Rome, or observe
the few vestiges which are left Of enlight.
ene6 Athens, or the mournfuI remains
of PalHyra. Those consecrated spots
where Cesar once stood. and Cicero
commanded the admiration Of the world
Where Pericles delighted the Athenians
| by the force of his eloquence, and So.
crates taught them the knowledge of the
Deity where Scion exulted in the sue.
cess of his wisdom, and Thrasyiulu,
triumphed over violence. Whom VIC
behold the relics Of those magnificent
amphithealres, The most wonderful speci
mems Of sDtient art, the Coliseum where
the gladiators were wont to amuse by
their feats OF strength, the triumPha
arches of VespasiaD, Sep'imius Servius
and Constantine the Pantheon where afe
+ deposited the ashes Of the dead, the
pillars of Trojan and AntoniDus, the
original brass plates containing the law
of the twelve tables, and the ruins o
Il