its usual and more appropriate signification, may be defined, "that affection which, being compounded of animal desire, esteem, and benevolence, becomes the bond of attachment and union between individuals of the different sexes; and makes them feel in the society of each other a species of happiness which they experience nowhere else." We call it an *affection* rather than a *passion*, because it involves a desire of the happiness of its object: And that its constituent parts are those which have been just enumerated, we shall first endeavour to prove, and then proceed to trace its rise and progress from a selfish appetite to a generous sentiment.

Animal desire is the actual energy of the sensual appetite: and that it is an essential part of the complex affection, which is properly called love, is apparent from this consideration, that though a man may have sentiments of esteem and benevolence towards women who are both old and ugly, he never supposes himself to be in love of any woman, to whom he feels not the sensual appetite to have a stronger tendency than to other individuals of her sex. On the other hand, that animal desire alone cannot be called the affection of love is evident; because he who gratifies such a desire without esteeming its object, and wishing to communicate at the same time that he receives enjoyment, loves not the woman, but himself. Mere animal desire has nothing in view but the species and the sex of its object; and before it make a selection, it must be combined with sentiments very different from itself. The first sentiment with which it is combined, and by which a man is induced to prefer one woman to another, seems to be that by which we are delighted with gracefulness of person, regularity of features, and beauty of complexion. It is not indeed to be denied that there is something irresistible in female beauty. The most severe will not pretend that they do not feel an immediate prepossession in favour of a handsome woman; but this prepossession, even when combined with animal desire, does not constitute the whole of that affection which is called love. Savages feel the influence of the sensual appetite, and it is extremely probable that they have some ideas of beauty; but among savages the affection of love is seldom felt. Even among the lower orders of civil society it seems to be a very gross passion, and to have in it more of the selfishness of appetite than of the generosity of esteem. To these observations many exceptions will no doubt be found (A): but we speak of savages in general, and of the great body of the labouring poor, who in the choice of their mates do not study—who indeed are incapable of studying, that rectitude of mind, and those delicacies of sentiment, without which neither man nor woman can deserve to be esteemed.

In the savage state, and even in the first stages of refinement, the bond of union between the sexes seems to consist of nothing more than mere animal desire and instinctive tenderness for their infant progeny. The former impels them to unite for the propagation of the species; and the latter preserves the union, till the children, who are the fruit of it, be able to provide for their own subsistence. That in such unions, whether casual or permanent, there is no mutual esteem and benevolence, is apparent from the state of subjection in which women are held in rude and uncultivated nations, as well as from the manner in which marriages are in such nations contracted.

Sweetness of temper, a capital article with us in the female character, displays itself externally in mild looks and gentle manners, and is the first and perhaps the most powerful inducement to love in a cultivated mind. "But such graces (says an ingenious writer) *Sketches* are scarce discernible in a female savage; and even of the History in the most polished woman would not be perceived by a male savage. Among savages, strength and boldness are the only valuable qualities. In these, females are miserably deficient; for which reason they are contemned by the males as beings of an inferior order. The North American tribes glory in idleness; the drudgery of labour degrades a man in their opinion, and is proper for women only. To join young persons in marriage is accordingly the business of the parents; and it would be unpardonable meanness in the bridegroom to show any fondness for the bride. In Guiana a woman never eats with her husband, but after every meal attends him with water for washing; and in the Caribbee islands she is not even permitted to eat in the presence of her husband. Dampier observes in general, that among all the wild nations with which he was acquainted, the women carry the burdens, while the men walk before and carry nothing but their arms; and that women even of the highest rank are not better treated. In Siberia, and even in Russia, the capital excepted, men till very lately treated their wives in every respect like slaves. It might indeed be thought, that animal desire, were there nothing else, should have raised women to some degree of estimation among men; but male savages, utter strangers to decency and refinement, gratify animal desire with as little ceremony as they do hunger or thirst.

"Hence it was that in the early ages of society a man purchased a woman to be his wife, as one purchases an ox or a sheep to be food; and valued her only as she contributed to his sensual gratification. Instances innumerable might be collected from every nation of which we are acquainted with the early history; but

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(A) Such as the negroes whose story is so pathetically told by Addison in No 215, of the Spectator; the two lovers who were killed by lightning at Staunton-Harcourt, August 9, 1718, (see Pope's Letters); and many others which will occur to every reader. we shall content ourselves with mentioning a few. Abraham bought Rebekah, and gave her to his son Isaac for a wife*. Jacob having nothing else to give, served Laban 14 years for two wives†. To David, demanding Saul’s daughter in marriage, it was said, ‘The king desireth not any dowry, but an hundred foreskins of the Philistines.’ In the Iliad Agamemnon offers his daughter to Achilles for a wife; and says that he would not demand for her any price§. By the laws of Ethelbert king of England, a man who committed adultery with his neighbour’s wife was obliged to pay the husband a fine, and to buy him another wife||. But it is needless to multiply instances; the practice has prevailed universally among nations emerging from the savage state, or in the rudest stage of society: and wherever it prevailed, men could not possibly have for the fair sex any of that tender regard and esteem which constitute so essential a part of the complex affection of love.

Accordingly we find the magnanimous Achilles an absolute stranger to that generous affection, though his heart was susceptible of the warmest and purest friendship. His attachment to Patroclus was so heroically disinterested, that he willingly sacrificed his own life to revenge the death of his friend; but when Agamemnon threatened to rob him of his favourite female captive, though he felt the insult offered to his pride, he never spoke of the woman but as a slave whom he was concerned to preserve in point of honour, and as a testimony of his glory. Hence it is that we never hear him mention her but as his spoil, the reward of war, or the gift which the Grecians gave him.

"And dar'st thou threat to snatch my prize away, Due to the deeds of many a dreadful day? A prize as small, O tyrant! match'd with thine, As thy own actions if compar'd with mine. Thine in each conquest is the wealthy prey, The' mine the sweat and danger of the day: Some trivial present to my ships I bear, Or barren praises pay the wounds of war."

And again, after upbraiding the general with his tyranny and want of regard to merit, he adds, with the greatest indifference as to the charms of the woman,

"Seize on Briseïs, whom the Grecians doom'd My prize of war, yet tameely see resum'd; And seize secure; no more Achilles draws His conquering sword in any woman's cause."

(b) The original passages are:

καὶ ἐν μοι γέρης αὐτὸς ἀφείρονται ἀπελάσις, ὡς τι πολὺ μυργήσῃ, δοκῶ δὲ μεν ὑπὸ θεῶν Ἀχαιῶν, οὐ μεν ἐν τῷ ἐν ἐμῇ γερής, ὅτε Ἀχαιοὶ Τρωῶν εἰκότων ἐναντίον πολεμῆσθε. Αλλὰ τοῦ μεν πλεῖον πολεμίων πολεμῆσθε Χείρες ἐμὲ διατείνω, ἀτελεῖς ἂν πολὺ μεταστρεψιν ἤδη, Σοὶ τὸ γέρης πολὺ μεῖζον, ἐν τῷ ἐλύθη τε φίλου τε Εὔχομαι ἐν τῷ μεῖζον, ἐν τῷ μεῖζον πολεμῆσθε.

Iliad, lib. i.

And, Ἀλλὰ ἐν τῷ ἐξελθεῖν, σὺ δ' ἐν Φρεσί βαλλεῖν ὄνοι Νεῖσι μὲν ἐν τῷ ἐναντίῳ μεταχειρίσαι, ἐναντία κατενευσεῖν,

In this latter passage the hero says expressly, “I will not fight with you or with any other man for the sake of a girl; but you shall not rob me of any other part of my property,” which is surely the language of a man to whose heart love must have been an utter stranger.

Pope has made the language of this rough warrior less inconsistent with the peculiar resentment natural to an injured lover than it is in the original (b); but from the last quoted passage, even as translated by him, it is apparent that Achilles would have been equally hurt had Agamemnon threatened to deprive him of any other part of his plunder. Accordingly he yields up Briseïs, not in grief for a mistress whom he loses, but in sullenness for an injury that is done him. Nor let it be imagined, that this coldness proceeded from the pride of the hero, which would not permit him to acknowledge his love of a captive. With the generous affection of love captives and princesses were equally incapable of inspiring him. He repeatedly affirmed indeed that he delighted in his fair Lyrnessian slave, but it was only as an instrument of sensual gratification; for as to every thing else in a woman, he was so totally indifferent, that he declared he would not, when he should be disposed to marry, give himself the trouble to make a choice, but leave the whole matter to his father.

"If heav'n restore me to my realms with life, "The rev'rend Peleus shall elect my wife."

Even Agamemnon, of whom Pope and Madame Dacier think more favourably as a lover, speaks the very same language when mentioning his favourite captive Chryseïs. In his furious debate with Achilles he calls her indeed—

"A maid, unmatch'd in manners as in face, "Skill'd in each art, and crown'd with ev'ry grace."

And adds,

"Not half so dear were Clytemnestra's charms, "When first her blooming beauties blest my arms."

But this was said merely to enhance the value of the prize, which for the public good he was about to resign; for that she was dear to him only as ministering to his pleasure, is past dispute from the language which he had previously held with her father, as well as from his requiring grateful Greece to pay a just equivalent, and to repair his private loss. A man who really loves would have thought nothing an equivalent for the object of his love; much less would he have insinuated to her father father a possibility of his dismissing from his embrace a woman whom he esteemed, when time should have robbed her of every youthful grace.

Since, then, it is so apparent, that in the heroic age of Greece even princes and kings were strangers to the generous affection of love, it needs not occasion much surprise that the same affection has very little influence upon mankind in the lowest ranks of the most polished societies of modern Europe. That this is actually the case, that among the generality of uneducated men and women there is no other bond of attachment than the sensual appetite, every year furnishes multiplied proofs. We daily see youths, rejected by their mistresses, paying their addresses without delay to girls who, in looks, temper, and disposition, are diametrically opposite to those whom so lately they pretended to love: We daily see maidens, slighted by their lovers, receiving the addresses of men, who, in nothing but their sex, resemble those to whom a week before they wished to be married: and we believe it is not very uncommon to find a girl entertaining several lovers together, that if one or more of them should prove false, she may still have a chance not to be totally deserted. Did esteem and benevolence, placed on manners and character, constitute any part of vulgar love, these people would act very differently; for they would find it impossible to change their lovers and their mistresses with the same ease that they change their clothes.

To this account of love, as it appears in savage nations, some one may perhaps oppose the paintings of the softer passion in the poems of Ossian. That bard describes the female character as commanding respect and esteem, and the Caledonian heroes as cherishing for their mistresses a flame so pure and elevated as never was surpassed, and has seldom been equalled, in those ages which we commonly call most enlightened. This is indeed true: and it is one of the many reasons which have induced Johnson and others to pronounce the whole a modern fiction. Into that debate we do not enter. We may admit the authenticity of the poems, without acknowledging that they furnish any exception to our general theory. They furnish indeed in the manners which they describe a wonderful anomaly in the general history of man. All other nations of which we read were in the hunter state savage and cruel. The Caledonians, as exhibited by Ossian, are gentle and magnanimous. The heroes of Homer fought for plunder, and felt no clemency for a vanquished foe. The heroes of Ossian fought for fame; and when their enemies were subdued, they took them to their bosoms. The first of Greeks committed a mean insult on the dead body of the first of Trojans. Among the Caledonians insults offered to the dead, as well as cruelty to the living, were condemned as infamous. The heroes of Ossian appear in no instance as savages. How they came to be polished and refined before they were acquainted with agriculture and the most useful arts of life, it is not our business to inquire; but since they unquestionably were so, their treatment of the female sex, instead of opposing, confirms our theory; for we never conceived rich clothes, superb houses, highly-dressed food, or even the knowledge of foreign tongues, to be necessary to the acquisition of a generous sentiment. Luxury indeed appears to be as inimical to love as barbarism: and we believe, that in modern nations, the tender and exalted affection which deserves that name is as little known among the highest orders of life as among the lowest. Perhaps the Caledonian ladies of Ossian resembled in their manners the German ladies of Tacitus, who accompanied their husbands to the chase, fought by their sides in battle, and partook with them of every danger. If so, they could not fail to be respected by a race of heroes among whom courage took place of all other virtues: and this single circumstance, from whatever cause it might proceed, will sufficiently account for the estimation of the female character among the ancient Germans and Caledonians, so different from that in which it has been held in almost every other barbarous nation.

But if among savages and the vulgar, love be unknown, it cannot possibly be an instinctive affection: and therefore it may be asked, How it gets possession of the human heart; and by what means we can judge whether in any particular instance it be real or imaginary? These questions are of importance, and deserve to be fully answered; though many circumstances conspire to render it no easy task to give to them such answers as shall be perfectly satisfactory. Love can subsist only between individuals of the different sexes. A man can hardly love two women at the same time; and we believe that a woman is still less capable of loving at once more than one man. Love, therefore, has a natural tendency to make men and women pair, or, in other words, it is the source of marriage: but in polished society, where alone this affection has any place, so many things besides mutual attachment are necessary to make the married life comfortable, that we rarely see young persons uniting from the impulse of love, and have therefore but few opportunities of tracing the rise, progress, and consequences of the affection. We shall, however, throw together such reflections as have occurred to us on the subject, not without indulging a hope, that they may be useful to the younger part of our readers when forming the most important connexion in life.

We have said, that the perception of beauty, combined with animal desire, is the first inducement which a man can have to prefer one woman to another. It may be added, that elegance of figure, a placid masculine countenance, with a person which indicates strength and agility, are the qualities which first tend to attach any woman to a particular man. Beauty has been defined *, "That particular form, which is the most common of all particular forms to be met with in the same species of beings." Let us apply this definition to our own species, and try, by means of Truths, and of it, to ascertain what constitutes the beauty of the human face. It is evident, that of countenances we the Idlest find a number almost infinite of different forms, of which forms one only constitutes beauty, whilst the rest, however numerous, constitute what is not beauty, but deformity or ugliness. To an attentive observer, however, it is evident, that of the numerous particular forms of ugliness, there is not one which includes so many faces as are formed after that particular cast which constitutes beauty. Every particular species of the animal as well as the vegetable creation, may be said to have a fixed or determinate form, to which, as to a centre, nature is continually inclining. Or it may be compared to pendulums vibrating in different directions over one central point; and as they all cross the centre, though only one passes through any other point; so it will be found that perfect beauty is oftener produced by nature than deformity: we do not mean than deformity in general, but than any one kind and degree of deformity. To instance in a particular part of a human feature; the line which forms the ridge of the nose is deemed beautiful when it is straight; but this is likewise the central form, which is oftener found than any one particular degree of concave, convex, or any other irregular form that shall be proposed. As we are then more accustomed to beauty than deformity, we may conclude that to be the reason why we approve and admire it, just as we approve and admire fashions of dress for no other reason than that we are used to them. The same thing may be said of colour as of form: it is custom alone which determines our preference of the colour of the Europeans to that of the Ethiopians, and which makes them prefer their own colour to ours; so that though habit and custom cannot be the cause of beauty (see Beauty), they are certainly the cause of our liking it.

That we do like it cannot be denied. Every one is conscious of a pleasing emotion when contemplating beauty either in man or woman; and when that pleasure is combined with the gratification of the sensual appetite, it is obvious that the sum of enjoyment must be greatly increased. The perception of beauty, therefore, necessarily directs the energy of the sensual appetite to a particular object; but still this combination is a mere selfish feeling, which regards its object only as the best of many similar instruments of pleasure. Before it can deserve the name of love, it must be combined with esteem, which is never bestowed but upon moral character and internal worth; for let a woman be ever so beautiful, and of course ever so desirable as an instrument of sensual gratification, if she be not possessed of the virtues and dispositions which are peculiar to her sex, she will inspire no man with a generous affection. With regard to the outlines, indeed, whether of internal disposition or of external form, men and women are the same; but nature, intending them for mates, has given them dispositions, which though concordant, are, however, different, so as to produce together delicious harmony. "The man, more robust, is fitted for severe labour, and for field exercise; the woman, more delicate, is fitted for sedentary occupations, and particularly for nursing children. The man, bold and vigorous, is qualified for being a protector*; the woman, delicate and timid, requires protection. Hence it is, that a man never admires a woman for possessing bodily strength or personal courage; and women always despise men who are totally destitute of these qualities. The man, as a protector, is directed by nature to govern; the woman, conscious of inferiority, is disposed to obey. Their intellectual powers correspond to the destination of nature. Men have penetration and solid judgment to fit them for governing; women have sufficient understanding to make a decent figure under a good government: a greater proportion would excite dangerous rivalry between the sexes, which nature has avoided by giving them different talents. Women have more imagination and sensibility than men, which make all their enjoyments more exquisite; at the same time that they are better qualified to communicate enjoyment. Add another capital difference of disposition: the gentle and insinuating manners of the female sex tend to soften the roughness of the other sex; and wherever women are indulged with any freedom, they polish sooner than men.

"These are not the only particulars that distinguish the sexes. With respect to the ultimate end of love, it is the privilege of the male, as superior and protector, to make a choice: the female, preferred, has no privilege but barely to consent or refuse. Whether this distinction be the immediate result of the originally different dispositions of the sexes, or only the effect of associations inevitably formed, may be questioned; but among all nations it is the practice for men to court, and for women to be courted; and were the most beautiful woman on earth to invert this practice, she would forfeit the esteem, however by her external grace she might excite the desire, of the man whom she addressed. The great moral virtues which may be comprehended under the general term integrity, are all absolutely necessary to make either men or women estimable; but to procure esteem to the female character, the modesty peculiar to their sex is a very essential circumstance. Nature hath provided them with it as a defence against the artful solicitations of the other sex before marriage, and also as a support of conjugal fidelity.

A woman, therefore, whose dispositions are gentle, delicate, and rather timid than bold, who is possessed of a large share of sensibility and modesty, and whose manners are soft and insinuating, must, upon moral principles (see Moral Philosophy), command the esteem and benevolence of every individual of the other sex who is possessed of sound understanding; but if her person be deformed, or not such as to excite some degree of animal desire, she will attract no man's love. In like manner, a man whose moral character is good, whose understanding is acute, and whose conversation is instructive, must command the esteem of every sensible and virtuous woman; but if his figure be disagreeable, his manner unpolished, his habits slovenly, and, above all, if he be deficient in personal courage, he will hardly excite desire in the female breast. It is only when the qualities which command esteem are, in the same person, united with those which excite desire, that the individual so accomplished can be an object of love to one of the other sex; but when these qualities are thus united, each of them increases the other in the imagination of the lover. The beauty of his mistress gives her, in his apprehension, a greater share of gentleness, modesty, and every thing which adorns the female character, than perhaps she really possesses; whilst his persuasion of her internal worth makes him, on the other hand, apprehend her beauty to be absolutely unrivalled.

To this theory an objection readily offers itself, which it is incumbent upon us to obviate. Men and women sometimes fall in love at first sight, and very often before they have opportunities of forming a just estimate of each other's moral character: How is this circumstance to be reconciled with the progressive generation of love? We answer, By an association of ideas, which is formed upon principles of physiogno- Every passion and habitual disposition of mind gives a particular cast to the countenance, and is apt to discover itself in some feature of the face. This we learn by experience; and in time, without any effort of our own, the idea of each particular cast of countenance comes to be so closely associated in our minds with the internal disposition which it indicates, that the one can never afterwards be presented to our view without instantly suggesting the other to the imagination. (See Metaphysics and Physiognomy.)

Hence it is that every man, who has been accustomed to make observations, naturally forms to himself, from the features and lineaments of a stranger's face, some opinion of his character and fortune. We are no sooner presented to a person for the first time, than we are immediately impressed with the idea of a proud, a reserved, an affable, or a good-natured man; and upon our going into a company of absolute strangers, our benevolence or aversion, our awe or contempt, rises instantly towards particular persons, before we have heard them speak a word, or know so much as their names or designations. The same thing happens when we are presented to the fair sex. If a woman, seen for the first time, have that particular cast of countenance, and that expression of features, to which we have associated notions of gentleness, modesty, and other female virtues, she instantly commands our esteem; and if she have likewise so much beauty as to make her an object of particular desire, esteem and desire become suddenly combined; and that combination constitutes the affection of love. Such, too, is the nature of all mental associations, that each part of which they are composed adds strength and vividness to the other parts; so that, in the present instance, desire makes us imagine virtues in the woman which her countenance perhaps does not indicate; and the virtues which are there actually visible, make us apprehend her beauty as more perfect than it is.

The affection thus generated is more or less pure, and will be more or less permanent, according as the one or the other part of which it is compounded predominates. "Where desire of possession* prevails over our esteem of the person and merits of the desirable object, love loses its benevolent character: the appetite for gratification becomes ungovernable, and tends violently to its end, regardless of the misery that must follow. In that state love is no longer a sweet agreeable affection: it becomes a selfish, painful passion, which, like hunger and thirst, produceth no happiness but in the instant of fruition; and when fruition is over, disgust and aversion generally succeed to desire. On the other hand, where esteem, founded on a virtuous character and gentle manners, prevails over animal desire, the lover would not for the world gratify his appetite at the expense of his mistress's honour or peace of mind. He wishes, indeed, for enjoyment; and to him enjoyment is more exquisite than to the mere sensual lover, because it unites sentiment with the gratification of sense; at the same time that, so far from being succeeded by disgust or aversion, it increases his benevolence to the woman, whose character and manners he esteems, and who has contributed so much to his pleasure. Benevolence to an individual, having a general end, admits of acts without number, and is seldom fully accomplished. Hence mutual love, which is composed chiefly of esteem and benevolence, can hardly be of a shorter duration than its objects. Frequent enjoyment endears such lovers to each other, and makes constancy a pleasure; and when the days of sensual enjoyment are over, esteem and benevolence will remain in the mind, making sweet, even in old age, the society of that pair, in whom are collected the affections of husband, wife, lover, friend, the tenderest affections of human nature."

From the whole of this investigation, we think it appears, that the affection between the sexes which deserves the name of love, is inseparably connected with virtue and delicacy; that a man of loose morals cannot be a faithful or a generous lover; that in the breast of him who has ranged from woman to woman for the mere gratification of his sensual appetite, desire must have effaced all esteem for the female character; and that, therefore, the maxim too generally received, "that a reformed rake makes the best husband," has very seldom a chance to be true. We think it may likewise be inferred, that thousands fancy themselves in love who know not what love is, or how it is generated in the human breast: and therefore we beg leave to advise such of our readers as may imagine themselves to be in that state, to examine their own minds, with a view to discover, whether, if the objects of their love were old and ugly, they would still esteem them for the virtues of their character, and the propriety of their manners. This is a question which deserves to be well weighed by the young and the amorous, who in forming the matrimonial connexion, are too often blindly impelled by the mere animal desire inflamed by beauty. "It may indeed happen, after† Elements of Criticism, refined by esteem and benevolence, go it must with a swift pace), that a new bond of attachment may be formed upon more dignified and more lasting principles; but this is a dangerous experiment. Even supposing good sense, good temper, and internal worth of every sort, yet a new attachment upon such qualifications is rarely formed; because it commonly or rather always happens, that such qualifications, the only solid foundation of that indissoluble connexion, if they did not originally make esteem predominate over animal desire, are afterwards rendered altogether invisible by satiety of enjoyment creating disgust."

Medicine. The symptoms produced by this passion as a disease, according to medical writers, are as follow: The eyelids often twinkle; the eyes are hollow, and yet appear as if full with pleasure: the pulse is not peculiar to the passion, but the same with that which attends solicitude and care. When the object of this affection is thought of, particularly if the idea is sudden, the spirits are confused, the pulse changes, and its force and time are very variable: in some instances, the person is sad and watchful; in others, the person, not being conscious of his state, pines away, is slothful, and regardless of food; though the wiser, when they find themselves in love, seek pleasant company and active entertainments. As the force of love prevails, sighs grow deeper; a tremor affects the heart and pulse; the countenance is alternately pale and red; the voice is suppressed in the fauces; the eyes grow dim; cold sweats break out; sleep absents itself, at least until the morning; the secretions... become disturbed; and a loss of appetite, a hectic fever, melancholy, or perhaps madness, if not death, constitutes the sad catastrophe. On this subject the curious may consult Ægineta, lib. iii. cap. 17. Oribat. Synopsis, lib. viii. cap. 9; or a treatise professedly written on love, as it is a distemper, by James Ferrard, Oxford, printed 1640.

The manners of the Greeks and Romans were similar to each other in the affairs of love. They generally made a discovery of their passion by writing upon trees, walls, doors, &c. the name of their beloved. They usually decked the door of their dalcinea with flowers and garlands, made libations of wine before their houses, sprinkling the posts with the same liquor, as if the object of their affection was a real goddess. For a man's garland to be untied, and for a woman to compose a garland, were held to be indubitable indications of their love.

When their love was without success, they used several arts to excite affection in the object of their desire. They had recourse to enchantresses, of whom the Thessalian were in the highest estimation. The means made use of were most commonly philtres or love potions, the operation of which was violent and dangerous, and frequently deprived such as drank them of their reason. Some of the most remarkable ingredients of which they were composed were, the hippocampe, the jynx, insects bred from putrefaction, the fish renora, the lizard, brains of a calf, the hairs on the tip of a wolf's tail, his secret parts, the bones of the left side of a toad eaten with ants, the blood of doves, bones of snakes, feathers of screech-owls, twisted cords of wool in which a person had hanged himself, rags, torches, reliques, a nest of swallows hurled and famished in the earth, bones snatched from hungry bitches, the marrow of a boy famished in the midst of plenty, dried human liver; to these may be added several herbs growing out of putrid substances. Such were the ingredients that entered into the composition of that infernal draught a love potion.

But, besides the philtres, various other arts were used to excite love, in which the application of certain substances was to have a magical influence on the person against whom they levelled their skill. A hyena's udder worn under the left arm, they fancied would draw the affections of whatever woman they fixed their eyes upon. That species of olives called πιλοξε, and barley-bran made up into a paste, and thrown into the fire, they thought would excite the flame of love. Flour was used with the same intention. Burning laurel, and melted wax, were supposed to have the like effect. When one heart was to be hardened, and another mollified, clay and wax were exposed to the same fire together. Images of wax were frequently used, representing the persons on whom they wished to make an impression; and whatever was done to the substitute of wax, they imagined was felt by the person represented. Enchanted medicaments were often sprinkled on some part of the house where the person resided. Love-pledges were supposed to be of singular use and efficacy; these they placed under their threshold, to preserve the affections of the owner from wandering. Love-knots were of singular power, and the number three was particularly observed in all they did. But no good effect was expected, if the use of these things was not attended with charms or magical verses and forms of words. See Magic.

Having mentioned their arts of exciting love, it may not be amiss to take notice, that the ancients imagined, that love excited by magic may be allayed by more powerful spells and medicaments, or by applying to demons more powerful than those who had been concerned in raising that passion. But love inspired without magic had no cure; Apollo himself could find no remedy, but cried out

*Hci mihi quod nullis amor est medicabilis herbis.*

The antidotes against love were generally *agnus castus*, which has the power of weakening the generative faculty; sprinkling the dust in which a mule had rolled itself; tying tonds in the hide of a beast newly slain; applying amulets of minerals or herbs, which were supposed of great efficacy in other cases; and invoking the assistance of the inferior deities. Another cure for love was bathing in the waters of the river Selemus; to which we may add the lover's leap, or jumping down from the Leucadian promontory.

**Love-Apple.** See Solanum, Botany Index.

**LOVENTINUM,** or Luventinum, in Ancient Geography, a town of the Demetæ in Britain, near the mouth of the Turobris or Tivy. Supposed to have been afterwards swallowed up by an earthquake, and to have stood where is now the lake called Llyn Scautan in Brecknockshire.

**LOUGHBOROUGH,** a town of Leicestershire in England, 110 miles from London. It is the second town in the county, and was in the Saxons time a royal village. Its market is on Thursday; the number of inhabitants in 1811 was 5400. It has a large church, and a free school; besides a charity school for 80 boys, and another for 20 girls. It has been very much reduced by fires; but is still a very agreeable town, with rich meadow-ground, on the fosse, which runs here almost parallel with the river Soar. The new canal has made the coal trade here very extensive.

**LOUGHBRICKLAND,** a town of Ireland, situated in the county of Down, and province of Ulster, 38 miles from Dublin. The name signifies the lake of the speckled trout; and it was so called from a lake near it, which abounds with those fish. It consists of one broad street, at the end of which is the parish church, said to have been built by Dr Taylor when bishop of Dromore, soon after the Restoration. The linen manufacture is carried on here very extensively; and the town is a great thoroughfare, the turnpike road from Dublin to Belfast passing near it.

**LOUGH-DERG,** anciently Derg-abhan, i.e. "the river of the woody morass," from a river which issues out of this lake. This lough is situated in the county of Donegal and province of Ulster in Ireland, and is famous for having in it the island that contains St Patrick's purgatory, which is a narrow little cell, hewn out of the solid rock, in which a man could scarce stand upright. There is also a lake of this name situated between the counties of Galway and Tipperary.

**LOUGH-NEAGH,** a loch or lake of Ireland, situated in the counties of Armagh, Down, Derry, and Antrim, and province of Ulster. This lake is 20 miles in in length, and varies from 8 to 12 miles in breadth. The area of this lake is computed to be 100,000 acres. It is remarkable for a healing virtue; and likewise for petrifying wood, which is not only found in the water but in the adjacent soil at a considerable depth. On its shores several beautiful gems have been discovered. Its ancient name was Loch-Éacha, or Loch-Neach, from loch, "a lake," and Neach, "wonderful, divine, or eminent." Its petrifying powers are not instantaneous, as several of the ancients have supposed, but require a long series of ages to bring them to perfection, and appear to be occasioned by a fine mud or sand, which insinuates itself into the pores of the wood, and which in process of time becomes hard like stone. On the borders of this lake is Shane's castle, the elegant seat of Lord O'Neil. Dr Smyth seems to doubt whether the healing quality in this lake is not to be confined to one side of it, called the fishing-bank; and he informs us, that this virtue was discovered in the reign of Charles II., in the instance of the son of one Mr Cunningham, who had an evil which run on him in eight or ten places; and notwithstanding all applications, seemed incurable: at length he was perfectly healed, after bathing in this lough about eight days. Hence that writer gives us another derivation of the name Loch-Neach, which (he says) seems to him to hint at this quality; Neasg or Neas, in Irish, signifying "a sore or ulcer," which might not improbably be corrupted into Neach: Hence he apprehends, this lake was remarked at a much earlier period for its healing property. As to its petrifying power, it is mentioned by Nenius, a writer of the 9th century, who says, "Est aliquid stagnum quod facit ligna duoscere in lapides. Homines autem findunt ligna, et postquam formaverunt, proiciunt in stagnum, et manent in eo usque ad caput anni, et in capite anni lapsus inventur; et vocatur stagnum Lacle-Echach." Lough-Neagh gives title of baron to the family of Skeffington.