Chapter XXXIV

_That Love is nothing but Concupiscence to a high Degree, or that Love
and Lust are the same Thing._

Love is a Passion, which, though we read of it in the Classics, is but seldom experienced in these Northern Climates.

I never met with a North-countryman who would allow that there is any Difference between Love and Lust, and even in the Southern Parts of the Kingdom it is but slightly felt; what little we have of it in England, serves only to make Diversion for the Girls, one among another, and does not often produce any Thing of bad Consequence. But in Southern Climes the Effects of it are violent, as well as much more frequent. The desperate Actions which our Tragedies are full of, will appear more natural, if we consider what Country we are in during the Time of the Play.

In England, we should esteem a Person, who killed himself for the Love of one of inferior Birth and Fortune, but a very silly Fellow; whereas in Spain or in Italy, to fall upon a Sword for a beautiful Woman, is looked upon as a certain Indication of a great Soul, and as a Proof that the Heart of the Enamoured was possessed of a Sentiment unknown to the Minds of the Vulgar. Not to dwell upon the many Instances, which have happened both among the Ancients and Moderns, of People who have died for Love, I shall just make a little Enquiry into the Nature of that Disorder, for so it may be called, since it sometimes proves fatal.

That Affection which is called Love, seems to be a Fever, not only in the Mind, but an actual Fever, attended with the Symptoms of that Disorder; and differs from all others in this Particular, it is what no Physic can cure. The Symptoms of it are much like those of that Distemper, which the East-Indians sometimes die of, when they pine for their native Country.

If this is the Case, Love is so far from being another Term for Lust, that it rather opposes that Desire, which is generally the Concomitant of Health.

The Heart is capable of a Wound from this little mischievous Urchin, before Maturity arrives; for the Truth of which I appeal to every one who has Sensibility enough, to be capable of receiving the Impression of Love, whether he never found himself electrified by a fine Lady, when he was about the Age of thirteen.

To conclude: If I hear a Person very positive that Love and Lust are the same Thing, I take it for granted, that his Nerves are so coarse and callous, that nothing less than the Stroke of a Blacksmith's Hammer can possibly have any Effect upon him.

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