STUDY XII. 25 



Neither am I the only perfon fufceptible of fuch 

 affeftions. Pliny tells us of a Roman Conful, 

 ^N who, when it rained, had his couch fpread under 

 the thick foliage of a tree, in order to hear the 

 drops clatter as they fell, and to be lulled to lleep 

 by the murmuring noife. 



I cannot tell to what phyfical Law Philofophers 

 may refer the fenfations of melancholy. For my 

 own part, I confider them as the moft voluptuous 

 affeâiions of the foul. Melancholy, fays Michael 

 Montaigne, is dainty. It proceeds, if I am not 

 miftaken, from it's gratifying, at once, the two 

 powers of which we are formed, the body and the 

 foul ; the fentiment of our mifery, and that of our 

 excellence. 



Thus, for example, in bad weather, the fentiinent 

 of my human mifery is tranquillized, by my feeing 

 i-t rain, while I am under cover; by my hearing 

 the wind blow violently, while I am comfortably in 

 bed. I, in this cafe, enjoy a negative felicity. 

 With this are afterwards blended fome of thofe at- 

 tributes of the Divinity, the perceptions of which 

 communicate luch exquifite pleafure to the foul ; 

 fuch as infinity of extenfion, trom the diftant mur- 

 muring of the wind. This fentiment may be 

 heightened from refleclion on the Laws of Nature, 

 fuggefhing to me that this rain, which comes, for 



the 



