I

A

P HILO S O P HI C AL INOUIRV

I K T O THE

ORIGIN of our IDEAS

0 F THE

S U B L I M E

AND

BEAUTIFU L.

WITH AN INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE CONCERNING TASTE,
AND SEVERAL OTHER ADDITIONS.

A NEW EDITION.

Printed and fold by j. j. t o u R N EI s E N.

MDccjccn.



THE

P R E F A C E.

I H A V E endeavoured to make this edition fome-
tliing more full and fatisfadtory than the firft. I
have fought rvith the utmofl čare, and read with
eqnal attention, every thing which has appeared
in puhlic againfl my opinions; I have taken advan-
tage of the candid liberty of my friends ; and if
by thefe means I have been better enabled to
difcover the imperfeclions of the tvori, the indul-
gence it has received, imperfedf as it was, furnifhed
me \vith a new motive to fpare no reafonable
pains for its improvement. Though I have not
found fufficient reafon, or what appeared to me
fufficietit, for making any material change in my
theory, I have found neceffary in many places to
explain, illuflrate, and enforce it. I have prefixed
an introdudlory difcourfe concerning Tafle: it is

A 2

a matter curious in itfelf; and it leads naturally
enough to the principal inquiry. This with the
other explanations has made the work confidera-
bly larger5 and by incrcafmg its bulk has, I arn
afraid, added to its faults; fo that, notvvithftand-
ing ali n ry  attention , it may lland in need of
a yet greater fliarc of indulgence than it required
at its firft appearance.

They who are accuflomed to ftudies of this
nature will expe£l, and they will allorv too for
many faults. They know thatmany of the obječls
of our inquiry are in themfelves obfcure and
intricate; and that many others have been ren-
deredfo by affe£led refinements or falfe learningj
they knovv that there are many impediments in
tlie fubjeft, in the prejudices of others, and even
in our own, that render it a matter of no fmall
difficulty to lliow in a clear light the genuine face
of nature. They know that whilft the mind is
intent on the general fcheme of thirigs , fome
particular parts muft be neglecled •  that we muli

THE P R E F A C E. v

often fubmit the ftyle to the matter, and frecjuent-
1 y give up tli e praife of elegance, fatisfied with
being clear.

The charačters of nature are legible, It is true j
but they are not plain enough to enable thofe
who run,  to read them. We muft make ufe of
a cautious, I had almoft hud , a timorous method
of proceeding. We muft not attempt to fly, when
we can fearcely preteiid to creep. In confidering
any complex matter, we ought to examine every
diftiinft ingredient in the compofttion, one by
one ; and reduce every thing to the utmoft fim-
plicity j fmce the condition of our nature binds
us to a ftrift law and very narrow limits. We
ought aftervvards to re-examine the principles hy
the effečt of the compofttion, as well as the
compofttion by that of the principles. We ought
to compare our fubjeft with things of a fimilar
nature , and even with things of a contrary
nature; for difcoveries may be and often are
made by the contraft, vvhich \vould efcape

A 3

us on

the fmgle view. The greater number of the
comparifons we make, the more general and the
more certain our knovvledge is like to prove , as
built upon a more extenhve and perfed indudion.

If an inquiry thus carefully conduded, fhould
fail at laik of difcovering the truth, it may anbver
an end perhaps as ufeful, in difcovering to us the
weaknefs of our own underftanding. If it does not
make us knowing, it may make us modeft. If it
does not preferve us from error, it may at leafl
from the fpirit of error; and may make us cautious
of pronouncing with pofitivenefs or with hafte,
vvhen fo much labor may end in fo much
uncertainty.

I could wifh that in examining this theory, the
farne method were purfued which I endeavoured
to obferve in forming it. The objedions, in my
opinion, ought to be propofed, either to the
feveral principles as they are difiinclly confidered,
or to the juftnefsof the conclufion which isdravvn
from them. But it is common to pafs over both

the premifes and conclufion in filence, and to
produce as an obje&ion , fome poetical paffage
which does not feern eafily accounted for upon
the principles I endeavour to efhblifh. This
manner of proceeding I fhould think very
improper. The tafk would be infinite, if we
could eftablifli no principle until we had previoufly
.unravelled the complex texture of every image
or defcription to be found in poets and orators.
And though we fhould never be able to reconcile
the effecl of fuch images to our principles, this
c.an never overturn the theory itfelf, \vhilft it
is founded on certain and indifputable fačfs.
A theory founded on experiment, and not af-
fumed , is always good for fo much as it
explains. Our inability to pufh it iridefinitely
is no argument at ali againft it. This inability
may be otving to our ignorance of fome ne-
ceffary mediums ;  to a want of proper appli-
cation ; to many other caufes befides a defečl

in the principles we employ. In reality, the

A 4

fubj e<5l requires a much clofer attention, than
we dare claim from our rnanner of treating it.

If' it fhould not appear on ths faee of the work,
I muli caution the reader againft imagining that
I intended a full diifertation on the Sublime and
Beautiful. My inquiry went nofarther than to the
origin of thefe ideas. If the qualities which I
have ranged under the head of the Sublime be
ali found eonfiflent with each other, and ali dif-
ferent from thofe vvhich I plače under the head
of Beauty; and if thofe which compofe the clafs
of the Beautiful have the farne confiftency with
themfelves , and the farne oppofition to thofe
which are claffed under the denomination of
Sublime, I am in little p.ain whether any body
chufes to follow the name I give them or not,
provided he allovvs that what I difpofe under
different heads are in reality different things in
nature. The ufe I make of the words may be
blamed, as too confined or too extended j my
meaning cannot \vell be mifunderftood.

THE P R E F A C E. ix

To conclude; whatever prog;efs may be made
tovvards the difcovery oftruth in ihis matter, I
do not repent the pains I have taken in it The
ufs of fuch inquiries may be very conhderable.
AVhatever turns the foul inward on itfelf, tends
to concentre its forces, and to fit it for greater
and ftronger fiights of fcience. By looking into
phvlical caufes, our minds are opened and enlarg-
ed j and in this purfuit, vvhether we take or
whether we lofe our game, the chafe is certainly
of fervice. C/cero, true as he vvas to the Acade-
mic philofophy, and confequently led to rejedl
the certainty of phyfical, as of every other kind
of knovvledge, yet freely confeffes its great import-
ance to the human underftanding; “ EJi animo-

“■ rum ingeniorumque nojlrorum nalurale quoddam
“ quaji pabulum conjideratio contemplatioque na -
“ lurcE.  ” If we can diredt the lights \ve derive
from fuch exalted fpeculations, upon the humbler
field of the imagination , whilft we inveftigate
the fprings, and trače the courfes of our paffions,

X THE P R E F A C E.

we may not only communicate to the tafte a fort
of philofophical folidity, but we may reflečf back
on the feverer fciences fome of the graces and ele-
gancies of tafte, vvithout vvhich the greateft pro-
ficiency in thofe fciences will always have the
appearance of fomething illiberal.

\

THE

CONTENTS.

jf Ntrodufiion. On Tafle Page l

PART L

SECT.

I. Novelty  33

II. Paln and Pleajure  35

III. The diference betiveen the removal of Pain

and pofuive Pleajure  38

IV. OJ Delight and Pleajure , as oppojed to

belong

to

each other

V. Joy and GrieJ

VI. OJ the Pafions vvhich
prejervation

VII. OJ the Sublime

VIII. OJ the Pafions vvhich belong to Society

IX. The final cauje oj the diference betmeen the
Pafions belonging to SelJ-preJcrvalion ,
and thoje vvhich regard the Society of the
fexes bi

4i

44

Self-

46

47
49

C O N T E N T S.

SECT.

X. Of Beauty Page  53

XI. Sodety and Solltude 55

XIE Sympathy  , 1/nitation , and Ambillon 5 J

XIII. Sympathy lbid.

XIV. The effečts of Sympathy in the diftreJTes

oj oihers 5 g

XV. Of the efech of Tragedy  62

XVI. hnitation.  65

XVII. Ambition  6S

XVIII. Recapilulation  7 °

XIX. The conclufion  72

PART II.

I. Of the Pajfion caufed by the Sublime  79
II. Terror  80

III. Obfcurily  82

IV. Of the dijference between Clearnefs and

Obfcurhy wilh regard to the Pajfions  85

[IV.] The farne Jubjett continued  86

V. Potver  g 3

VI. Priv at ion  io 5

VII. Vaftnefs  107

VIII. Infinits  109

IX. Succejfion and Unifonnity  111

GONTENTS.

SECT.

X. Magnitude in Building Page  1j 5

XI. lnfinity in pleafing Obječis  117

XII. Difficully  118

XIII. Magnijicence  119

XIV. Light  122

XV. Light in Building  125

XVI. Col or conjidered as produllive oj tlie

Sublime  126

XVII. Sound and Loudnefs  128

XVIII. Suddennefs  129

XIX. Intermitting  i 3 o

XX. The Cries of Animals  i 3 i

XXI. Smeli and Tajle. Bitters and Slenches  i 33
XXII. Feeling. Pain  i 35

PART 111.

I. Of Beauty  7

II. Proportion not tke caufe of Beauty in
Vegetables  i 3  g

III. Proportion not lhe caufe of Beauty in
Animals  146

IV. Proportion not tlie caufe of Beauty in the
Human Species  348

V. Proportion further confidered  i 5 g

VI. Fitnefs not the caufe of Beauty  164

C O N T E N T S.

SECT.

VII. The real effečls ofpitnefs Page  i6g

VIII. The Recapitulation  173

IX. Perfeclion not tlie caiife ofBeauty  174

X. Pio w far the ideas of Beauty may be

applied to the qualities oj the mind  17 5

XI. Horn far the ideas of Beauty may be

applied to Virtue  178

XII. The real caufe of Beauty  179

XIII. Beautifil obječis fmall  180

XIV. Smoothnefs  182

XV. Gradual Variation  iS3

XVI. Delicacy  186

XVII. Beauty in Color  188

XVIII. Recapitulation  lSg

XIX. The Phyfognomy  igo

XX. The Eye  191

XXI. Uglinefs iqz

XXII. Grace  ig3

XXIII. Elegance and Specioufnefs  194.

XXIV. The Beautiful in Feeling  igj

XXV. The Beautiful in Sounds  ig8

XXVI. Tajle and Smeli  201

XXVII. The Sublime and Beautiful compared  203

C O N T E N T S.

PART  IV.

SECT.

I. Of the efficient caufe of the Sublime and.

Beautiful P a ge  so 5

II. AJfociation  qoS

III. tanje oj Pain and Fear  209

IV. Continuecl  212

V. Hom the Sublime is produced  214.

VI. How Pain can be a carje of D elight  216

VII. E.cercife necejfary forthefiner Organs  218

VIII. W/iy things not dangerousfometimes produce
a pajfon like Terror  219

IX. Why vifual obječls of great dimenfons
are Sublime  220

X. Unity , why requifite to Vafnefs  222

XI. The artificial Irfinite  22 5

XII. The vibrations muf be fimilar  227

XIII. The ejfeČls of fuccejfion in vifual obječls

explained  228

XIV. Locke s opinion concerning Darknefs

confidered  232

XV. Darknefs terriblc in its own nature  234

XVI. Why darknefs is terrible  236

XVII. The ejfefts of Blacknefs  239

XVIII. The ejječls of Blacknefs moderated  242

XIX. The phvfical caufe of Love  244

CONTENTS.

SECT.

XX. Why Smoothnefs is Beautiful Page  247

XXI. Svveetnefs  , it s nature  248

XXII. Svveetnefs relaxing  252

XXIII. Varialion why beautiful  2 55

XXIV. Concerning Smallnefs  q57

XXV. OJ Celar  263

PART  V.

I. Of tVords '  265

n. The common cjfecl of Poefry  , not by raifng

ideas of things  267

III.  General words before ideas  270

IV.  The ejjecl of Words.  / 272

V. Examples that words may affecl vvithout

raifng imagcs  275

VI. Poetry not fri£lly an imitative art  284.

VII. Hovv Words irifluence the Pajfons  285

INTRO-

INTRODUCTION,

O N

TASTE.

On  a fuperficial view, we may feem to diffef
very widely from each other in our reafonings ,
and no lefs in our pleafures : but notvvithftanding
this difference , v/hich I think to be ratber ap-
parent, than real, it is probable that the ltandard
both ofReafon andTafte is the farne in ali human
creatures. For if there were not fome principles
of judgment as rvell as of fentiment common to
ali mankind , no hold could poffibly be taken
either on their reafon or their paflions, fufficient
to maintain the ordinary correfpondence of life.
It appears indeei to be-generally acknotvledged,
that with regard to truth and falHiood there is
fomething hxed. We find people in their difputes
continually appealing to certain tefts and ftandards,

B

a INTUODUCTION.

which are allowed on ali fides , and are fuppofed
to be eftablifhed in our common nature. But
there is not the farne obvious ccncurrence in any
uniform or fettled principles which relate to
Tafte. It is even commonly fuppofed that this
delicate and aerial faculty, vvliich feems too vo-
latile to endure even the chains of a definition,
cannot be properly tried by any teft , nor regu-
lated by any ftandard. There is fo continual
a call for the exercife of the reafoning faculty,
and it is fo much ftrengthened by perpetual con-
tention , that certain maxims of right reafon
feem to be tacitly fettled amongft the moli
ignorant. The learned have improved on this
rude fcience , and reduced thofe maxims into a
fyftem. If Tafte has not been fo happily culti-
vated , it \vas not that the fubječt was barren ,
but that the laborers were fetv or negligent; for
to fay the truth, there are not the farne intereft-
ing motives to impel us to fix the one, which
urge us to afcertain the other. And after ali, if
men differ in their opinion concerning fuch mat-
ters , their difference is not attended with the
farne important confequences; elfe I make no

ON TASTE.

3

doubt but that the logic of Tafte, if I may be
allowed the expreihon, might very poffibly be
as well digefted, and we might come to difcufs
matters of this nature with as much certainty ,
as thofe which feem more immediately within
the province of mere reafon. And indeed, it
is very neceflary , at the entrance into fuch ari
inquiry as our prefent, to make this point as
clear as poffible; for if Tafte has no fixed prin-
ciples , if the imagination is not affečted accord-
ing to fome invariable and certain laws , our
labor is like to be employed to very little pur-
pofe ; as it muli be judged an ufelefs, if not
an abfurd undertaking , to lay down rules for
caprice, and to fet up for a legiflator of \vhims
and fancies.

The term Tafte, like ali other figura ti ve terms*
is not extremely accurate ; the thing which we
underftand by it, is far from a fimple and de-
terminate idea in the minds of moft men , and
it is therefore liable to uncertainty and confufion.
I have no great opinion of a definition, the ce-
lebrated remedy for the cure of this diforder.
For when we define, we feem in danger of

P 2

INTRODUCTION.

4

circumfcribing nature \vithin the bounds of our

O

o\vn notions, \vhich we often take up by hazard,
or embrace on truft, or form out of a limited
and partial confideration of the obječt before us,
inftead of extending our ideas to take in ali that
nature comprehends , according to her manner
of combining. We are limited in our inquiry
by the ftričl laws to which we liave fubmitted
at our fetting out.

-- Circa vilem patulwnque morabiinur orbem,

Unde pudor proferre pedem vetat aut operiš lex.

A defmition may be very exa£l, and yet go
but a very little way towards informing us of
the nature of the thing defined; but let the vir-
tue of a defmition be \vhat it \vill , in the order
of things, it feems rather to follotv than to pre-
cede our inquiry , of which it ought to be con-
fidered as the refult. It mufi be acknowledged
that the methods of difquifition and teaching may
be fometimes different, and on very good reafon
undoubtedly; but for my part, I am convinced
that the method of teaching which approaches
moft nearly to the method of invefligation , is
incomparably the beftj fince, not content \vith

ON TASTE.

5

ferving up a few barren and lifelefs truths , it
leads to the ftock on which thev grew ; it tends
to fet the reader himfelf in the track of invention ,
and to direčt him into thofe paths in which the
author has made his own difcoveries , if he
fliould be fo happy as to have made any that
are valuable.

But to cut off ali pretence for cavilling, I mean
by the tvor d Tafte no more than that faculty or
thofe faculties of the mind , which are affetted
with , or which form a judgment of, the works
of imagination and the elegant arts. This is, I
think, the molt general idea of that word, and
what is the leaft connečted with any particular
theory. And my point in this inquiry is, to find
\vhether there are any principles, on which the
imagination is affečled, fo common to ali , fo
grounded and certain , as to fupply the means
of reafoning fatisfa£lorily about them. And fuch
principles of Tafte I fancy there are ; however
paradoxical it may feem to thofe , who on a
fuperficial view imagine, that there is fo great a
diverfity of Taftes, both in kind and degree ,
that nothing can be more indeterminate,

B 3

6

INTRODUCTION.

Ali the natural powers in man, which I kno\v,
that are converfant about extcrnal obječls , are
the fenfes; the imagination ; and the judgment.
And firfl vvith regard to the Senfes. We do and
we muli fuppofe, that as the conformation of
their organs are nearlv or altogether the farne in
ali men, fo the manner of perceiving external
obječls is in ali men the farne, or with little dif-
ference. We are fatisfied that what appears to
be light to one eye, appears light to another ;
that what feems fweet to one palate , is fvveet
to another ; that what is dark and bitter to
this man , is likewife dark and bitter to that;
and we conclude in the farne manner of great
and little , hard and foft, hot and cold, rough
and fmooth; and indeed of ali the natural qua^
lities and affečlions of bodies. If we fuffer our-
felves to imagine , that their fenfes prefent to
different men different images of things , this
fceptical proceeding will make every fort of
reafoning on every fubječt vain and frivolous,
even that fceptical reafoning itfelf, vvhich had
perfuaded us to entertain a doubt concerning
the agreement of our perceptions. But as tliere

ON TASTE.

7

will be little doubt that bodies prefent fimilar
images to the wl%le fpecies, it muli neceffarily
be allovved , that the pleafures and the pains
\vhich every obječt excites in one man, it mufi
raife in ali mankrnd, whilft it operates naturally,
fimply, and by its proper powers only ; for if
we deny this , vve rnuft imagine that the farne
caufe operating in the farne manner., and on
fubječis of the farne kind, \vill produce different
cffečls, which tvould be highly abfurd. Let us
firft confider this point in the fenfe of Tafte, and
the rather as the faculty in queftion has taken
its name from that fenfe. Ali men are agreed
to call vinegar four , honey fweet, and aloes
bitter ; and as tl|py are ali agreed in finding
thefe qualities in thofe obječls, they do not in
the leaft differ concerning their effeČts vvith re-
gard to pleafure and pain. They ali concur in
calling fvveetnefs pleafant, and fournefs and bit-
ternefs unpleafant. Here there is no diverfity in
their fentiments ; and that there is not, appears
fully from the confent of ali men in the meta-
phors which are taken from the fenfe of Tafte.
A four temper, bitter expreffions, bitter curfes,

B i

g

INTRODUCTION.

a bitter fate, are terms \vell and ftrongly under-
ftood by ali. And we are fdtogether as well
underftood when we fay, a fweet difpofition, a
fweet perfon , a fweet condition , and the like.
It is confeffed , that cuftoin and lome other
caufes, have made many deviations from the na¬
tura! pleafures or pains \vhich belong to thefe
feveral Tajftes; but then the power of diftin-
guifhing between the natural and the acquired
relilli remains to the very laft. A man frequently
comes to prefer the tafte of tobacco to that of
fugar, and the flavor of vinegar to that of mili;;;
but this makes no confufion in Taftes , vvhilft
he is fenfible that the tobacco and vinegar are
not fweet, and whilft he knc^vs that habit alone
has reconciled his palate to thefe alien pleafures.
Even with fuch a perfon we may fpeak, and with
fufficiept precifton , concerning Taftes. But fliould
any man be found who declares, that to him
tobacco has a Tafte like fugar, and that he cannot
diftinguilh between milk and vinegar; or that
tobacco and vinegar are fweet, milk bitter, and
fugar four; we immediately conclude that the
organ* of this man are out of order, and that

ON TASTE.

9

his pakte is utterly vitiated. We are as far from
conferring with fuch a perfon upon Taftes , as
from feafonirlg concerning the relations of quan-
tity with one who fiiould deny that ali the parts
together were equal to the whole. We do not
call a man of this kind wrong in his notions,
but abfolutely mad. Exceptions of this fort, in
either way, do not at ali impeach our general
rule, nor make us conclude that men have various
principles concerning the relations of quantity ,
or the Tafte of things. So that when it is faid,
Tafte cannot be difputed , it can only mean ,
that no one can ftričlly anfvver what pleafure or
pain fome particular man may lind from the Tafte
of fome particular thing. This indeed cannot. be
difputed; but we may difpute, and with fufficient
clearnefs too, concerning the things which are
naturally pleafing or difagreeable to the fenfe.
But \vhen we talk of any peculiar or acquired
relifh, then \ve muft know the habits, the pre-
judices, or the diftempers of this particular man,
and we muft draw our conclufion from thofe.

This agreement of mankind is not confined to
the Tafte folely. The principle of pleafure derived

so

INTRODUCTION,

from fight is the farne in ali. Light is more plea-
fing than darknefs. Summer, when the earth is
clad in green, when the heavens are fereiie and
bright, is more agreeable than \vinter , when
every thing makes a different appearance. I never
remember that any thing beautiful , whether a
man , a beaft, a bird , or a plant , was ever
fliovvn , though it were to a hundred people,
that they did not ali immediately agree that it
was beautiful , though fome might have thought
that it fell fhort of their expeclation , or that
other things were ftill finer. I believe no man
thinks a goofe to be more beautiful than a fwan,
or imagines that what they call a Friezland hen
excels a peacock. It mufi: be obferved too, that
the pleafures of the fight are not near fo com-
plicated, and confufed, and altered by unnatural
habits and affociations, as the pleafures of the
Tafte are ; becaufe the pleafures of the fight more
commonly aequiefce in themfelves; and are not
fo often altered by confiderations which are inde.
pendent of the fight itfelf. But things do not
fpontaneoufly prefent themfelves to the palate as
they do to the fight; they are generally applied

ON TAST  E. u

to it, either as food or as medicine; and from
the qualities which they poflbfs for nutritive or
medicinal purpofes , they often form the palate
by degrees , and by force of thefe affociations.
Thus opium is pleafmg to Turks, on account of
the agreeable delirium it produces. Tobacco is the
delight of Dutchmen, as it diffufes a torpor and
pleafmg ftupefačtion. Fermented fpirits pleafe
our common people , becaufe they banifh čare ,
and ali confideration of future or prefent evils.
Ali of thefe would lie abfolutely neglečled if
their properties had originallv gone no further
than the Tafte; but ali thefe, together with tea
and coffee, and fome other things, have paffed
from the apothecary’s fhop to our tables , and
\vere taken for health long before they were
thought of for pleafure. The eftecl of the drug
has made us ufe it frequently ; and frequent ufe,
combined with the agreeable effečt, has made
the Tafte itfelf at laft agreeable. But this does
not in the leaft perplex our reafoning; becaufe
vve diftinguilh to the laft the acquired from the
natural relilh. In defcribing the tafte of an
unknown fruit, you would fcarcely fay, that it

12

INTRODUCTION.

had a fvveet and pleafant flavor like tobacco,
opium , or garlic, although you fpoke to thofe
\vho \vere in the conftant ufe of thefe drugs,
and had great pleafure in them. There is in ali
men a fufficient remembrance of the original na-
tural caufes of pleafure, to enable them to bring
ali things offered to their fenfes to that ftandard,
and to regulate their feelings and opinions by
it. Suppofe one who had fo vitiated his palate as
to take mere pleafure in the Tafte of opium than
in that of butter or honey, to be prefented
vvith a bolus of fquills; there is hardly any doubt
but that he vvould prefer the butter or honey to
this naufeous morfel, or to any other bitter drug
to \vhich he had not been accuftomed ; which
proves that his palate vvas naturally like that of
other men in ali things , that it is Hill like the
palate of other men in many things, and only
vitiated in fome particular points. For in judg-
ing of any new thing, even of a Tafte fimilar to
that \vhich he has been formed by habit to like,
he finds his palate affečled in the natural manner,
and on the common principles. Thus the plea¬
fure of ali the fenfes, of the fight, and even of

ON TASTE.

t3

the Tafte, that moft ambiguous of the fenfes, is
the farne in ali, high and low , learned, and
unlearned.

Befides the ideas, with their annexed pains
and pleafures, which are prefented by the fenfe;
the mind of man polfefles a fort of Creative
power of its own ; either in reprefenting at plea-
fure the images of things in the order and man-
ner in which they \vere received by the fenfes,
or in combining thofe images in a new manner,
and according to a clifferent order. This power
is called Imagination; and to this belongs what-
ever is called wit, fancy , invention, and the
like. But it mufi be obferved , that the power
of the imagination is incapable of producing any
thing abfolutely new ; it can only vary the dif-
pofition of thofe ideas which it has received from
the fenfes. Now the imagination is the moft ex-
tenfive province of pleafure and pain, as it is
the region of our fears and our hopes, and of
ali our pafiions that are connečied with them;
and whatever is calculated to affect the imagi¬
nation with thefe commanding ideas , by force
of any original natural impreffion ,  muft have

I N T R O D U C T I O N.

H

the farne power pretty equally over ali men.
For fince the imagination is only the reprefenta-
tion of the fenfes, it can only be. pleafed or
difpleafed with the images, from the farne prin-
ciple on which the fenfe is pleafed or difpleafed
vvith the realities ; and confequently there muft
be juft as clofe an agreement in the imaginations
as in the fenfes of men. A little attention will
convince us tliat this muft of necefhty be the
cafe.

But in the imagination, befides the pain or
pleafure arifing from the properties of the natural
obje,  a pleafure is perceived from the refem-
blance, vvhich the imitation has to the original:
the imagination, I conceive, can have no pleafure
but what refults from one or other of thefe
caufes. And thefe caufes operate pretty uniformly
upon ali men, becaufe they operate by princi-
ples in nature , and which are not derived from
any particular habits or advantages. Mr. Locke
very juftly and finely obferves of wit, that it is
chiefly converfant in tracing refemblances : he
remarks at the farne time, that the bufinefs of
judgment is rather in finding differences. It may

O N T A S T E. i5

perhaps appear , on this fuppofition, that there is
no material diftinčUon betvveen the wit and the
judgment, as they both feem to refult from dif-
ferent operations of the farne faculty of comparing.
But in reality, whether they are or are not de~
pendant on the farne power of the mind, they
differ fo very materially in many refpecfs, that
a perfed union of \vit and judgment is one of
the rareft things in the workl. When two diflindt
objecis are unlike to each other , it is only what
we expečf; things are in their common way;
and therefore they make no impreffion on the
imagination: but when two diftindt objedls have
a refemblance, we are ftruck, we attend to them,
and we are pleafed. The mind of man has
naturally a far greater alacrity and futisfaction in
tracing refemblances than in fearching for dif-
ferences : becaufe by making refemblances we
produce iiew images ;  we unite , we create ,
we enlarge our ftoclc; but in making diflinctions
we offer no food at ali to the imagination ; the
tafk itfelf is more fevere and irkfome, and what
pleafure we derive from it is fomething of a
negative and indirečl nature. A piece of nevvs •

16 INTRODUCTIO N.

is told me in the morning; this , merely as a
piece of. news , as a fačl added to my ftock,
gives me fome pleafure. In the evening I find
there was nothing in it. What do I gain by
this, bat the diffatisfačlion to find that I had
been impofed upon ? Hence it is that men are
much more naturally inclined to belief than to
incredulity. And it is upon this principle , that
the moli ignorant and barbarous nations have
frequently excelled in fimilitudes , comparifons,

Jr

metaphors, and allegories, who have been weak
and backvvard in difiingu ifhing and forting their
ideas. And it is for a reafon of this kind, that
Homer and the oriental vvriters, though very fond
of fimilitudes, and though they often ftrike out
fuch as are truly admirable, they feldom take
čare to have them exa£t; that is, they are taken
with the general refemhlance , they paint it
flrongly, and they take no notice of the difference
vvhich may be found between things compared.

Now , as the pleafure of refemblance is that
which principally flatters the imagination , ali
men are nearly equal in this point, as far as
. their knowledge of the things reprefented or

compared

ON TASTE 17

compared extends. The principle of this knovvledge
is very much accidental, as it depends upon ex->
perience and obfervation, and not on the flrength
or weaknefs of any natural faculty ; and it is
from this difference in knovvledge, that what we
commonly, though with no great exa£lnefs, call
a difference in Tafte proceeds. A man to whom
fculpture is new, fees a barber’s block, or fome
ordinary piece of ftatuary ; he is immediately
ftruck and pleafed, becaufe he fees fomething
like an human figure ;  and, entirely taken up
with this likenefs , he does not at ali attend to
its defečts. No perfon , I believe, at the firft
time of feeing a piece of imitation ever did.
Some time after , we fuppofe that this novice
lights upon a more artificial work of the farne
nature ,• he now begins to look with contempt on.
vvhat he admired at firft; not that he admired it
even then for its unlikenefs to a man, but for
that general though inaccurate refemblance which
it bore to the human figure. What he admired
at different times in thefe fo different figures, is
ftričlly the farne ;  and though his knowledge is
improved, his Tafte is not altered, Hitherto his

C

A S INTRODUCTION.

jniftake was from a want of knovvledge in art,
and this arofe from his inexperience j but he
may be ftill deficient from a want of knowledge
in nature. For it is poflible that the man in quef-
tion may ftop here, and that the mafter-piece of
a great hand may pleafe him no more than the
middling performance of a vulgar artift ■  and this
not for want of better or higher relifh , but be-
eaufe ali meh do not obferve with fufficient ac-
curacy on the human figure to enable them to
judge properly of an imitation of it. And that
the critical Tafte does not depend upon a fuperior
principle in men, but upon fuperior knotvledge,
may appear from feveral inftances, The ftory
of the ancient painter and the llioemaker is
very v/ell known. The llioemaker fet tlie painter
right with regard to fome miftakes he had made
in the Ihoe Gf one of his figures, and which the
painter, who had not made fuch accurate obfer-
vations on flioes, and was content vvith a general,
refemblance had never obferved. But this was
no impeachment to the Tafte of the painter ;  it
only ftiowed fome want of knowledge in the art
of making flioes. Let us imagine, that an anatomift

ON TASTE.

19

had come into the painter’s vvorking-room. His
piece is in general well done, the figure in quef-
tion in a good attitude, and the parts well adjuft-
ed to their various movements; yet the anatomift,
critical in his art ,  may obferve the fvvell of fome
mufcle not quite juft in the peculiar aftion of the
figure. Here the anatomift obferves what the
painter had not obferved; and he pafles by what
the fhoemaker had remarked. But a vvant of the
laft critical knovvledge in anatomy no more reflett-
ed on the natural good Tafte of the painter, or
of any common obferver of his piece, than the
vvant of an exačt knovvledge in the formation of
a flioe. A fine piece of a decollated head of St*
John the Baptift vvas fhovvn to a Turkifh emperor;
he praifed many things, but he obferved one de-
fečt; he obferved that the fkin did not Ihrink from
the vvounded part of the neck. The fultan on
this oceafion, though his obfervation vvas very juft,
difcovered no more natural Tafte than the painter
vvho executed this piece, or than a thoufand Eu-
ropean connoiffeurs, vvho probably never vVould
have made the farne obfervation. His Turkifli
Majefty had indeed been vvell acquainted vvith

C 2

*o

INTRODUCTION.

that terrible fpečtacle, vvhich the others could
only have reprefented in their imagmation. On
the fubječt of their diflike there is a difference be-
tween ali thefe people, arifmg from the different
kinds and degrees of their knovvledge; but there
is fomething in common to thepainter, the flioe-
maker, the anatomih:, and the Turkifh emperor,
the pleafure arifmg from a natural objedt, fo far
as each perceives it juftly imitated; the fatisfačlion
in feeing an agreeable figure ; the fympathy pro-
ceeding from a ftriking and affečting incident. So
far as* Tafte is natural, it is nearly common to ali.

In poetry, and other pieces of imagination, the
farne parity may be obferved. It is true, that
one man is charmed with Don Bellianis, and
reads Virgil coldly. whilft another is tranfported
vvith the Eneid, and leaves Don Bellianis to chil-
dren. Thefe two men feem to have a Tafte very
different from- each other; but in facl they diffec
very little. In both thefe pieces, vvhich infpire
fuch oppofite fentiments, a tale exciting admira-
tion is told 5 both are full of aftion, both are paf-
fionate; in'both are voyages, battles, triumphs,
and continual changes of fortune. The admirer

ON TASTE.

ti

of Don Bellianis perhaps does not underftand the
refined langnage of the Eneid, who, if it was de-
graded into the ftyle of the Pilgrim s Progrefs ,
might feel it in ali its energy, on the farne prin-
ciple which made him an admirer of Don Bellianis.

In his favorite author he is not fhocked with
the continual breaches of probability, the confufion
of times, the offences againft manners, the tram-
pling upon geography; for he knows nothing of
geography and chronology, and he has n e ver
examined the grounds of probability. He per¬
haps reads of a lhipwreck on the coaft of Bohemia:
wholly taken up with fo interefting an event, and
only folicitous for the fate of his hero , he is not
at the leaft troubled at this extravagant blunder.
For why fliould he be fhocked at a fhipwreck on
the coaft of Bohemia , who does not knovv but
that Bohemia may be an ifland in the Atlantic
ocean? and after ali, what refleclion is this on
the natnral good Tafte of the perfon here fuppofed?

So far then as Tafte belongs to the imagination,
its principle is the farne in ali men ;  there is no
difference in the manner of their .being affefted,
nor in the caufes of the affeclion ; but in tha

C 3

22

INTRODUCTION.

degree  there is a difference, which arifes from t\vo
caufes principally ; either from a greater degree
of natural fenfibility, or from a clofer and longer
attention to the obje ČL To illuftrate this by the
procedure of the fenfes , in which the farne dif¬
ference is found , let us fuppofe a very fmooth
marble table to be fet before two men ; they both
perceiveitto be fmooth , and they are both pleafed
with it becaufe of this quality. So far they agree.
But fuppofe another, and after that another table,
the latter ftill fmoother than the former , to be fet
before them. It is now very probable that thefe
men, who are fo agreed upon what is fmooth,
and in the pleafure from thence, will difagree
when they come to fettle which table has the ad-
vantage in point of polifh. Here is indeed the
great difference between Taftes, whqn men come
to compare the excefs or diminution of things
which are judged by degree and not by meafure.
Nor is it eafy, when fuch a difference arifes , to
fettle the point, if the excefs or diminution be
not glaring. If we differ in opinion about two
quantities, we can have recourfe to a common
meafure, which may decide the queftion with the

ON TASTE.

«3

utmoft cxadlnefs; and this I take it is what gives
mathematical knowledge a greater certainty than
any othen But in things whofe excefs is not jud-
ged by greater or fmaller, as fmoothnefs and
rouglinefs, hardnefs and foftnefs, darknefs and
light, the fliades of colors, ali thefe are very eafily
diftinguifhed when the difference is any way con-
fiderable, but not when it is m nute, for want of
fome common meafures , which perhaps may
never come to be difcovered. In thefe niče cafes ,
fuppofmg the acutenefs of the fenfe equal, the
greater attention and habit in fuch things will have
the advantage. In the queftion about the tables,
the marble-polifher vvill unqueftionably determine
the moli acurately. But notwithftanding this want
of a common meafure for fettling many difputes
relative to the fenfes, and their reprefentative the
imagination, we find that the principles are the
farne in ali, and that there is no difagreement uri-
til we come to examine into the pre-eminence or
difference of things, which brings us within the
province of the judgment.

So long as we are converfant with the fenfible
qualities of things, hardly any more than the

C 4

*4

INTRODUCTION,

imagination feems concerned ; little more alfo
than the imagination feems concerned when the
paffions are reprefented, becaufe by the force of
natural fympathy they are felt in ali men with-
out any recourfe to reafoning, and their juftnefs
recogmfed in every breaft. Love, grief, fear,
anger, joy, ali thefe paffions have in their turns
afFečled every mind; and they do not affečt it in
an arbitrary or cafual manner, but upon certain,
natural, and uniform principles. But as many
of the works of imagination are not confined to
the reprefentation of fenfible objefts, nor to ef-
forts upon the paffions, but extend themfelves
to the manners, the charačlers, the ačlions, and
defigns of men ,  their relations, their virtues and
vices, they come \vithin the province of the judge-
ment, which is improved by attention and by
the habit of reafoning. Ali thefe make a very
confiderable part of what are confidered as the
obje&s of Tafte ; and Horace fends us to the
fchools of philofophy and the vvorld for our in-
ftruction in them. Whatever certainty is to be
acquired in morality and the fcience of life; jufl;
Jhe. farne degree of certainty have vve in vvhat

O N T A S T E. s5

relates to them in works of imitatioii. Indeed it is
for the moft part in our fk.il! in manners, and
in the obfervances of time and plače, and of
decency in general, which is only to be learned
in thofe fchools to which Horace recommends
us, that what is called Tafte, by way of diftinc-
tion, confifts; and which is in reality no other
than a more refined judgment. On the vvhole,
it appears to me, that what is called Tafte, in
its moft general acceptation, is not a fimple idea,
but is partly made up of a perception of the
primary pleafures of fenfe, of the fecondary plea-
fures of the imagination, and of the conclufions
of the reafoning faculty, concerning the various
relations of thefe, and concerning the human paf-
fions, manners, and ačlions. AH this is requifite
to form Tafte, and the ground-vvork of ali thefe
is the farne in the human mind; for as the fenfes
are the great originals of ali our ideas, and con-
fequently of ali our pleafures, if they are not un-
certain and arbitrary, the whole ground-work of
Tafte is common to ali, and therefore there is a
fufficient foundation for a conclufive reafoning
on thefe matters.

o 6

INTRODUCTION.

VVhilft we confider Tafte merely according to
its nature and fpecies, we fhall fmd its principles
entirely uniform; but the degree in vvhich thefe
principles prevail, in the feveral individuals of
mankind, is altogether as different as the prin¬
ciples themfelves are hmilar. For fenfibility and
judgment, which are the qualities that compofe
what we commonly calla Taji e , vary exceedingly
in various people. From a defedt in the former
of thefe qualities, arifes a vvant of Tafle; a vveak-
nefs in the latter, conflitutes a wrong or a bad
one. There are fome men formed with feelings
fo blunt, with tempers fo cold and phlegmatic,
that they can hardly be faid to be awake during
the whole courfe of their lives. Upon fuch per-
fons, the moft ftriking obječiš make but a faint
and obfcure impreihon. There are others fo con-
tinually in the agitation of grofs and merely fenfual
pleafures, or fo occupied in the low drudgery
of avarice, or fo heated in the chafe of honors
and diftinčtion, that their minds, vvhich had been
tifed continually to the ftorms of thefe violent and
tempeftuous palhons, can hardly be put in motion
by the delicate and refined play of the imagi-

ON TASTE.

«7

nation. Thefe men, though from a different
caufe, foecome as ftupid and infenfible as the
former; but whenever either of thefe happen to
be ftruck with any natural elegance or greatnefs,
or with thefe qualities in any work of art, they
are moved upon the farne principle.

The caufe of a wrong Tafte is a defečt of Judge-
ment. And this may arife from a natural weaknefs
of underftanding (in whatever the ftrength ofthat
faculty may confift ) or , which is much more
commonly the cafe, it may arife from a want of
proper and vvell-direčted exercife, which alone can
make it ftrong and ready. Befides that ignorance,
inattention, piejudice, raffinefs, levity, obftinacy,
in fhort, ali thofe paflions, and ali thofe vices,
which pervert the judgment in other matters, pre«
judice it no lefs in this its more refined and elegant
province. Thefe caufes produce different opinions
upon everything which is anobjeft of the under¬
ftanding , vvithout inducing us to fuppofe , that
there are no fettled principles of reafon. And indeed
on the \vhole one may obferve, that there is rather
lefs difference upon matters of Tafte among man-
kind, than upon moft of thofe which depend upon

23

INTRODUCTION,

tli e naked reafon; and that men are far better
agreed on the excellence of a defcription in Virgil,
than on thetruth or falfliood of a theory of Ariftotle.

A reftitude ofjudgment in the arts, which may
be called a good Tafte, does, in a great meafure
depend upon fenfibilitv; becaufe if the mind has
no bent to the pleafures of the imagination, it wili
never apply itfelf fufiiciently to works of that fpecies
to acquire a competent knovvledge in them. But
though a degree of fenfibility is requifite to form
a good judgment, yet a good judgment does not
neceffarily arife from a quick fenfibility of pleafure;
it frequently happens that a very poorjudge, merely
by force of a greater complexional.,.fenfibility, is
more affečted by a very poor piece , than the beft
judge by the moft perfecl; for as every thing new,
extraordinary, grand , or paffionate, is well cal-
culated to affečt fuch a perfon, and that the faults
do not affečl him, his pleafure is more pure and
.unmixed; and as it is merely a pleafure of the
imagination, it is much higher than any which is
derived from a rečlitude of the judgment; the
judg nent is for the greater part employed in throw-
ing ftumbling-blocks in the way of the imagination,

ON TASTE.

«9

in diffipating the feenes of its enchantment, and
in tying us down to the difagreeable yoke of our
reafon 5 for almoft the only pleafure that men have
in judging better than others , confifts in a fort of
confcious pride and fuperiority, which arifes from
thinking rightly; but then, this is an indirečl plea¬
fure, a pleafure which does not immediately refult
from the obječl which is under contemplation.
In the morning of our days, when the fenfes are
unvvorn and tender, whenthewhole man is awake
in everypart, and the glofs of novelty frelh upon
ali the obječls that furround us, how lively at that
time are our fenfations, but how falfe and inaccurate
the judgments we form of things ? I defpair of
ever receiving the farne degree of pleafure from
the moli; excellent performances of genius \vhich
1 felt at that age, from pieces vvhich my prefent
judgment regards as trifling and contemptible.
Every trivial caufe of pleafure is apt to affett the
man of too fanguine a complexion : his appetite,
is too keen to fuffer his Tafte to be delicate ;  and
he is in ali refpečls what Ovid fays of himfelf in love,

Molle meum levibus cor ejl violabile teliš ,

Et femper caufa ejl, cur ego femper amern.

2o  INTRODUCTION,

One ofthis charačler canneverbe a refmed judge;
never what the comic poet calls elegans Jomiarum
fpečlator . The excellence and force of a compofi-
tion mufi always be imperfečtly eftimated from its
effečl on the minds of any, except we know the *
temper and charačter of thofe minds. The moft
powerful effečts of poetry and muhe have been
difplayed, and perhaps are ftill difplayed , \vhere
thefe arts are but in a very low and imperfect
ftate. The rude hearer is aifečted by the principles
vvhich operate in thefe arts even in their rudeft
condition; and he is not fkilful enough to perceive
the defečts. But as arts advance toivards their
perfečtion, the fcience of criticifm advances vvith
equal pace, and the pleafure of judges is frequent-
ly interrupted by the faults which are difcovered
in the moft finifhed compofitions.

Before I leave this fubječt, I cannot help taking
notice of an opinion \vhich many perfons enter-
tain, as if the Tafte were a feparate faculty of the
mind , and diftincf from the judgment and ima-
gination ; a fpecies of inftinčl, by which we are
ltruck naturally , and at the firft glance, \vithout
any previous reafoning, with the excellencies, or
tbe defečts of a compofition. So far as the ima-

ON TASTE.

3i

gination and the paftions are concerned, I believe
it true, that the reafon is little confulted ;  but
where difpofition, where decorum, where con-
gruity are concerned, in fhort, jvherever the beft
Tafte differs from the worft, I am convinced that
the underftanding operates and nothing elfe; and
its operation is in reality far from being always
fudden, or, when it is fudden, it is often far
from being right. Men of the beft Tafte by con-
fideration come frequently to change thefe early
and precipitate judgments, \vhich the mind, from
its averfion to neutrality and doubt, loves to form
on the fpot. It is known that the Tafte (vvhatever
it is) is improved exačlly as we improve our
judgment, by extendi'ng our knowledge, by a
lteady attention to our obječl, and by frequent
exercife. They who have not taken thefe methods,
if their Tafte decides quickly , it is always uncer-
tainly; and their quicknefs is owing to their
prefumption and raffmefs, and not any hidden
irradiation that in a moment dilpels ali darknefs
from their minds. But they who have cultivated
that fpecies of knowledge which makes the obječl
of Tafte, by degrees and habitually attain not
only a foundnefs, but a readinefs of judgment,

29

INTRODUCTION.

as men do by the farne methods on ali other
occafions. At firfl they are obliged to fpell, but at
laft they read with eafe and with celerity, but
this celerity of its operation is no proof, that the
Tafte is a diftinčl faculty. Nobody, I believe, has
attended the courfe of a difcuffion, vvhich turned
upon matters within the fphere of mere naked rea-
fon, but muft have obferved the extreme readinefs
with which the whole procefs of the argument
is carried on, the grounds difcovered, the objec-
tions raifed and anfwered, and the conclufions
drawn from premifes, with a quicknef3 altogether
as great as the Tafte can be fuppofed to work
with ;  and yet where nothing but plain reafon
either is or can be fufpečted to operate. To mul-
tiply principles for every different appearance, is
ofelefs , and unphilofophical too in a high iegree.

This matter might be purfued much farther;
but it is not the extent of the fubje£l which muft
prefcribe our bounds, for what fubječl does not

branch out to infinity? it is the nature of our
particular fcheme, and the fmgle point of view in

vvjiich we confider it, vvhich ought to put a ftop
tv our refearches.

A

A

PHILOSOPHIC AL INOUIRY

I N X O THE

ORIGIN OF OUR IDE AS

O F THE

SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL,

PART L

S E C T. I
N O V E L T Y.

The  firft and tile limpleft emotlon which we
difcover in the human mind, is Curiofity. By
curiofity I mean whatever defire we have for, or
whatever pleafure we take in, novelty. We fee
children perpetually running from plače to plače
to hunt out fomething ne\v ; they catcl: with great
eagernefs, and with very little choice, at vvhatever
comes before them; their attention is engaged by
every thing , becaufe every thing has , in that ftage
of life, the charm of novelly to recommend it,

E)

3 4  ON THE SUBLIME

But as thofe things vvhich engage us merely by their
novelty, cannot attach us for any length of time,
curiofity is the moft fuperficial of ali the affečlions.
it changes its obječl perpetually; it has an appo¬
tite which is very fharp , but veiy eafily fatisfied;
and it has always an appearance of giddinefs, reft-
leflnefs, and anxiety. Curiofity frorn its nature is
a very a&ive principle; it quickly runs over the
greateft part of its obječls, and foon exhaulls the
variety which is commonly to be met vvith in
nature; the farne things malce frequent returns;
and thev return vvith lefs and lefs of any agreeable
effečh In lliort, the occurrences of life, by the
time we come to know it a little , vvculd be in-
capable of affečling the mind vvith any other fenfa-
tions than thofe of loatliing and vvearinefs, if many
things vvere not adapted to alFecl the mind by
means of other povvers befides novelty in them,
and of other paflions befides curiofity in ourfelves.
Thefe povvers and paflions fliall be confidered in
their plače. But vvhatever thefe povvers are, or
upon vvhat principle foever they affecf the mind,
it is abfolutely neceflary that they fhould not be
exerted in thofe things vvhich a daily vulgar ufe

AND BEAUTIFUL.

35

have brought into a Hale unaffečling familiarity.
Some degree of novelty mufi be one of the
materials in every inftrument which works upon
the mind ; and cnriofity blends itfelf more or lefs
with ali our paffions.

S E C T. II.

PAIN AND PLEASUSE.

It  feems then neceffary towards moving tbe paf¬
fions of people advanced in life to any confider-
able degree, that the obječts defigned for that
purpofe, befides their being in fome meafure new,
fhould be capable of exciting pain or pleafure from
other caufes. Pain and pleafure are fimple ideas,
incapable of definition. People are not liable to
be miftaken in their feelings , but they are very
frequently wrong in the names they give tlusm ,
and in their reafonings about them. Many are of
opinion, that pain arifes necelfarily from the re-
moval of fome pleafure; as they think pleafure
does from the ceafing or diminution of fome pain.
I or my part , I am rather inclined to imagine ,
that pain and pleafure, in their moft fimple and

D 2

36

ON THE SUBLIME

natural manner of affečling, are each of a pofitive
nature , and by no means neccflarily dependent
on each other for their exiftence. The human
mind is often, and I think it is for the moft part,
in a ftate neither of pain nor pleafure, which I
call a ftate of indifference. When I arn carried
from this ftate into a ftate of ačlual pleafure, it
does not appear neceffary that I ftiould pafs through
the medium of any fort of pain. If in fuch a ftate'
of indifference, or eafe, or tranquillity , or call
it what you pleafe, you were to be fuddenly en-
tertained vvith a concert of mufic; or fuppofe
fome obječl of a fine Ihape, and bright lively
colors, to be reprefented before you ; or imagine
your fmell is gratified with the fragrance of a rofe;
or if vvithout any previous thirft you were to
drink of fome pleafant kind of wine, or to tafte of
fome fvveetmeat without being hungry •  in ali the
feveral fenfes , of hearmg, fmelling , and tafting,
you undoubtedly find r  pleafure ; yet if I inquire
into the ftate of your mind previous to thefe gra-
tifications , you will hardly teli me that they found
you in any kind of pam j or, having fatisfted thefe
feveral fenfes with their feveral pleafures, will you

AND BEAUTIFUL 3 7

fay that any pain has fucceeded, though tli e plea¬
fure is abfolutely over ? Suppofe , on the othcr
hand , a man in the farne fiate of indifference,
to receive a violent blow, or to drink of fome bit-
ter potion , or to have his ears \vounded vvith fome
harfh and grating found; here is no removal of
pleafure ; and yet here isfelt, in eyery fenfe which
is affečled , a pain very diftinguifhable. It may
be faid, perhaps, that the pain in thefe cafes had
its.rife from the removal of the pleafure which the
man enjoyed before #  though that pleafure was of
fo low a degree as to be perceived only by the
removal. But this feems to me a fubtilty, that
is not difcoverable in nature. For if, previous to
the pain , I do not feel any ačlual pleafure, I have
no reafon to. judge that any fuch thing exifts;
fmce pleafure is only pleafure as it is felt. The
farne may be, faid of pain , and with equal reafon.

I can never perfuade myfelf that pleafure and pain
are mere relations, vvhich can only exift as they
are contrafted ; but I think I can difcern clearly
that there are pofitive pains and pleafures, vvhich
do not at ali depend upon eačh other. Nothing

is more certain to my ovvn feelings than this. There

D 3

38

ON THE S U B L I M E

is nothing which I can diftiriguifii in my mind
with more clearnefs than the three ftat.es , of indif-
ference , of pleafure , and of pain. Every one of
thefe I can perceive without any fort of idea of
its relation to any thing elfe. Caius is affiičled with
a fit of the cholic ; this man is a£tually in pain ;
ftretch Caius upon the račk, he vvill feel a much
greater pain: but does this pain of the račk arife
from the removal of any pleafure ? or is the fit of
the cholic a pleafure or a pain juft as we are
pleafed to confider it?

S E C T. III.

THE DIFFERENCE BETVFEEN THE REMOVAL OF PAIN
AND POSITIVE PLEASURE.

We  fhall carry this propofition yet a llep
farther. We fliall venture to propofe, that pain
and pleafure are not only not neceffarily depend-
ent for their exiflence on their mutual diminution
or removal, but that, in reality, the diminution
or ceafing of pleafure does not operate like pofi-
tive pain; and that the removal or diminution
of pain, in its effečt, has very little refemblance

AND BEAUT 1 FUL,

3 9

to pofitive pleafure *. The former of thefe pro-
pofitions a  vili, I believe, be much more readily
allo\ved than the latter; becaufe it is very evident
that pleafure, when it has run its career, fets us
down very neai'ly where it found us. Pleafure
of every kind quickly fatisfies; and when it is
over, we relapfe into indifference, or rather we
fall into a foft tranquillity, which is tinged vvith
the agreeable color of the former fenfation. I
own it is not at hrft view fo apparent, that the
removal of a great pain does not refemble pofi¬
tive pleafure j but let us recollečt in what fiate
we have found our minds upon efcaping fome
imminent danger, or on being releafed from the
feverity of fome cruel pain. We have on fuch
occahons found, if I am not much miflaken, the
temper of our minds in a tenor very remote from
that which attends the prefence of pofitive plea¬
fure; we have found them in a fiate of much

* Mr. Locke [ Effay on Human Underftanding, I. ii. c.
20. fečt. 16.] thinks that the removal or leffening of a
pain is conftdered and operates as a pleafure, and the
lofs or diminifhing of pleafure as a pain. It is this
opinion vvhich we confider here.

D 4

ON THE SUBLIME

4 «

fobriety, impreffed \vith a fenfe of awe, in a fort
of tranquillity fliadotved with horror. dhefaihion
of the countenanee and the gefcure of the body
on fuch occafions is fo correfpondent to this fiate
of mind , that any perfon , a ftranger to the caufe
of the appearance, would rather judge us under
fome conilernation, than in the enjoyment of any
thing like pofitive pleafure,

Slg  cT clav ctv^o otlu &vxivti %y!c,y\ , og r vi 'ZuJtf
4>£*7% uoflcatJzivocg , ocTdhvv sfeiMro infiov  »

zg  , S-of^cooj P t%zt u<T0$0to\lx;»

Iliad. xxiv.

As vvhen a vvretch, who  , confcious of his crime,

Purfued for murder from his nalive clirne,

Jujl gains fome frontier, breathlefs , pale, amazd;

Ali gaze, ali wonderf

This ftiiking appearance of the man whom
Homer fuppofes to have juft efcaped an immi-
nent danger, the fort of mixt paffion of terror and
furprife, with which heaffečls the fpeclators, paints
yery ftrongly the manner in whieh we find our-
felves affefted upori occafions any way fimilar.
For when we have fuffered from any violent
emotion, the mind naturaliy continues in forne^
thmg like the farne condition, afterthe caufe which

AND BEAUTIFUL

4i

firft produced it has ceafed to operate. The tof-
fing of the fea remains after the ftorm; and when
this remain of horror has entirely fubfided, ali
the paflion , \vhich the accident raifed, fubfides
along with it; and the mind returns to its uliial
fiate of indifference. In fliort, pleafure (I mean
any thing either in the inward fenfation, or in
the outvvard appearance , like pleafure from a
pofitive caufe) has never, I imagine, its origitt
from the removal of pain or danger.

S E C T. IV.

OF DELIGHT AND PLEASURE , AS GPPOSED TO
EACH OTHER.

But  fhall we therefore fay, that the removal
of pain or its diminution is always fimply painful ?
or affirm that the ceffation or the lelfening of
pleafure is always attended itfelf with a pleafure ?
By no means. What I advance is no more than
this; firft, that there are pleafures and pains of
a pofitive and independent nature; and fecondly,
that the feeling which refults from the ceafmg
or diminution of pain does not bear a fufficient
refemblance to pofitive pleafure, to have it corf-

ON THE SUBLIME

42

fidered as of the farne nature, or to entitle it to
be known by the farne name ; and thirdlv, that
upon the farne principle the removal or qualifi-
cation of pleafure -  has no refemblance to pofitive
pain. It is certain that the former feeling (the
removal or moderation of pain) has fomething
in it far from diftreffing or difagreeable in its na¬
ture. This feeling, in many cafes fo agreeable,
but in ali fo different from pofitive pleafure, has
no name which I know; but that hinders not its
being a very real one, and very different from
ali others. It is moft certain, that every fpecies
of fatisfačlion or pleafure, how different foever
in its manner of affečling, is of a pofitive nature
in the min d of him who feels it. The affečfion
is undoubtedly pofitive; but the caufe may be,
as in this cafe it certainly is, a fort of Privation.
And it is very reafonable that we ffiould diftin-
guifh by fome term two things fo diftinct in na¬
ture, as a pleafure that is fuch fimply, and with-
out any relation, from that pleafure which cannot
exiff 'without a relation, and that too a relation
to pain. Very extraordinary it would be , if
thefe affeclions, fo diftinguifhable in their caufes,

AND B E A U T I F U L 43

fo different in their effečls, fhould be confounded
vvith eacli other, becaufe vulgar ufe has ranged
them under the farne general title, Whenever I

O

have occafion to fpeak of this fpecies of reladvs
pleafure, I call it Delight;  and I finali take the
beft čare I can, to ufe that word in no other
fenfe. I am fatisfied the word is not commonly
ufed in this appropriated fignihcation; but I thought
it better to take up a \vord already known , and
to limit its fignification, than to introduce a new
one , which would not perhaps incorporate fo
well with the language. I fiiould never have pr e*
fumed the leafl alteration in our words, if the
nature of the language, framed for the purpofes
of bufmefs rather than thofe of philofophy, and
the nature of my fubj ečt, that leads me out of
the common track of difcourfe , did not in a
manner neceffitate me to it. I fliall make ufe' of
this liberty with ali pofiible caution. As I make
ufe of the word Delight  to exprefs the fenfation
\vhich accompanies the removal of pain or danger;
fo when I fpeak of pofitive pleafure, I fliall for
the moli part call it fimply Pleafure.

44

ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. V,

J O Y AND GRIEF.

It  mufi be obferved , that the ceffation of plea-
fure affects the mind three ways, If it fimply
eeafes, after having continued a proper time, the
efleef is indifference;  if it be abruptly broken off,
there enfues an uneafy fenfe called difappointment;
if the obječl be fo totally loft that there is no
chance of enjoying it again, a paffion arifes in the
mind , which is called grief.  Now, there is none
of thefe, noteven grief, which is the moli violent,
that I think has any refemblance to pofitive pain.
The perfon who grieves, fuffers his paffion to, grow
upon him ; he indulges it, he loves it: but this
never happens in the cafe of adtual pain , which
no man ever willingly endured for any con-
fiderable time. That grief fliould be willingly
endured , though far from a fimply pleafmg fen-
fation, is not fo difficult to be underftood. It is
the nature of grief to. keep its. obje£f perp.etually
in its eye , to prefent it in its moli pleafurable
views, to repeat ali the circumftances that attend

AND BEAUTIFUL 4 5

it, even to the laft minutenefs; to go back to

every particular enjoymem , to dwell upon each,

and to find a thoufand netv perfečlions in ali,

that were not fufficicntly miderftood before; in

grief, :the pleafure  is flill uppermoft; and the

aflliction we fuffer has no refemblance to abfolute

pain, which is always odious, and which we en-

deavour to fhake off as foon as poffible, The

Odyffey of Homer , \vhich abounds with fo many

natural and affečting images, has none more ftri-

king than thofe vvhich Menelaus raifes of the

calamitous fate of his friends, and his own manner

of feeling it. He owns, indeed, that he often

gives himfelf fome intermiffion from fuch melan-

choly reflečtions; but he obferves too, that,

melancholy as they are , they give him pleafure.

*

A X a’ vtxvix; /mi  oovfo/j.svo; >txi uyjvt^v,

TloXXoauf  sv /j.iyapoi7t Kafo/Aivo; r.f^.tl
AAAg7e y.iv  te you  ®pjv« Tspvri/j.xt-i k'ax{]s  o'avli
Ha.vov.oti  05 xopo<; Kfv-poto yocu>.

Stili in /hort intervals of  pleafing wae,
Regarclful of the friendly dues 1 owe,

I to the glorious head,for e v er dear,

Indulge the tribute of a  grateful tear.

Hom.  Od. iv.

4 6 ON THE SUBLIME

On the other hancl, when we recover our health,
Vvlien rve efcape an imminent danger, is it with
joy that we are affečted? The fenfe on thefe occa-
fions is far from that fmooth and voluptuous
fatisfaftion rvhich the affured profpečt of pleafure
beftorvs. The delight \vhich arifes from the modi-

O

fications of pain, confeffes the ftock frcm whence
-it fprung, in its folid, ftrong, and fevere nature

S E C T. VI.

Of THE PASSIONS WHICH BELONG TO SELF-
PRESERVATION'.

apowerful impreffion on the mind, whether fimply
of Pain or Pleafure, or of the modifications of
thofe, may be reduced very nearly to thefe two
heads, felf-prefervation  and Jociety ;  to the ends of
one or the other of rvhich ali our paflions are
Calculated to anfwer. The paflions rvhich concern
felf-prefervation, turn moflly on pain  or danger.
The ideas of pain , ficknefs,  and death,  hll
the mind with ftrong emotlons of horror ■

of the ideas rvhich are capable of making

AND BEAUTIFUL,

47

but life  and health , though they put us in a capa-
city of being affected with pleafure, they make na
fuch impreffion by the fimple enjoyment. The
paiTions therefore which are converfant about the
prefervation of the individual, turn chiefly on
pain  and danger ,  and they are the moft: powerful
of ali the paffions.

S E C T. VII.

OF THE SUBLIME.

"W"HATEVER. is fitted in any fort to excite
the ideas of pain and danger , that is to fay ,
vvhatever is in any fort terrible, or is converfant
about terrible objects, or operates in a manner
analogous to terror , is a fource of the Jubllme  ;
that is ,  it is produftive of the ftrongeft emotion
which the mind is capable of feeling, I fay the ftrong¬
eft emotion, becaufe I am fatisfied the ideas of pain
are much more powerful than thofe which enter on,
the part ofpleafure. Without ali doubt, the tormentg.
vvhich we may be made to fuffer, are much great-
er in their effeči on the body and mind, than any „
pleafures vvhich the moft learned voluptuary could

48 O N T H E S U 3  L I M E

fuggeft, or than the livelieft imagination, and the
moft found and exquilitely fenfible body, could
enjoy. Nay, I am in great doubt whether any
man could be found vvho \vould earn a life of the
moft perfečt fatisfadfion, at the priče of ending it
in the torments, which juftice infličled in a few
hours on the late unfortunate regicide in France.
But as pain is ftronger in its operation than plea-
fure, fo death is in general a much more affecting
idea than pain; becaufe there are very few pains,
however exquiftte , which are not preferred to
death ;  nay, what generally makes pain itfelf, if
I may fay fo, more painful, is, that it is conlidered
as an emiffary of this king of terrors. When dan-
ger or pain prefs too nearly , they are incapable
of giving any delight, and are fimply terrible ; but
at certain diftances , and with certain modifica-
tions, they may be, and they are delightful, as
tve every day experience. The caufe of chis I iliall
endeavour to mvefbgate hereaiter.

SECT.

a K D BJ AUTIFU L.

49

S E C T. VIII.

OF THE PASSIONS VVHICH BELONG TO
SOCIETV.

The  other heacl under vvhich I clafs our paffions,
is that of fociety,  'vvhich may be divided into tvvo
forts. i. The fociety of the fexes , which anfwers
the purpofes of propagation; and next , that
more generalfociety  , vvhich we have vvith men and
with other animals, and vvhich vve may in fome
ibrt be faid to have even vvith the inanimate vvorld.
The paffions belonging to the prefervation of the
individual, turn vvholly on pain and danger: thofe
vvhich belong to generation,  have their origin in
gratifications and pleafures;  the pleafure mofi:
dire6ily belonging to this purpofe is of a lively
charačler, rapturous and violent, and eonfeffedly
the higheft pleafure of fenfe; yet the abfence of
this fo great an enjoyment, fcarce amounts to an
uneafinefs ; and , except at particular times, I do
not think it affečls at ali. When men defcribe in
vvhat manner they are aJh cu-d by pain and

E

O N  THE SUBLIME

5o

danger, they do not d\vell on the pleafure of
heakli and the comfort of fecurity, and then
lament the lofs  of thefe fatisfačlions: the whole
turns upon the adtual pains and horrors \vhich
they endure. But if you liften to tlie complaints
of a forfaken lover, you obferve that he infifts
largely on the pleafures which heenjoyed orhoped
to enjoy, and on the perfeclion of the objeti of his
defires; it is the lofs  which is always uppermoft
in his mind. The violent effečls produced by love ,
vvhich has fometimes been even vvrought up to
madnefs, is no obječiion to the rule n \ieh we feek
to eftablifh. When men have fuffered their ima-
ginations to be long affečted \vith any idea, it fo
wholly engroffes them as to fhut out by degrees
almoft every other, and to break down every
partition of the mind vvhich would confine it. Any
idea is fufhcient foi' the purpofe, as is evident
from the infmite variety of caufes, vvhich give rife
to madnefs; but this at moft can only prove that
the paffion of love is capable of producing very
extraordinary effečfs, not that its extraordinary
emotions have any connexion vvith pofitive pain.

AND BEAUTIFUL,

5i

S E C T. IX.

THE FINAL CATJSE OF THE DTFFERENCE BETtVEEN
THE PASSIONS BELONGING TO SELF-PRESER-
VATION , AND THOSE WHICH REGARD THE
SOGIETY OF THE SEXES.

The  final caufe of the difFerence in chara&er
between the pafRons which rsgard felf-prefervation
and thofe which are direčled to the multipHeation
of the fpecies, will illuftrate the foregoing remarks
yet further; and it is, I imagine, worthy of obferva-
tionevenupon its ovvnaccount. As the performance
of our duties of every kind depends upon life, and
the performing them witfi vigor and eflicacy
depends upon health, we are very ftrongly affe&ed
with whatever threatens the deftničtion of either:
but as we were not made to acquiefce in life and
health, the fimple enjoyment of them is not attended
vvith any real pleafure, left, fatisfied with that, we
iliould give ourfelves over to indolenče and in-
ač^ion. On the other band , the generation of

E  *

5  2

O N THE SUBLI M E

mankind is a great purpofe, and it is requifite that
men fliould be animated to the purfuit ofit by
fome great incentive. It is therefore attended with
a very high pleafure; but as it is by no means
defirrned to be our conftant bufinefs, it is not fit

O

that the abfence of this pleafure fliould be attended
with any confiderable pain. The difference be-
tween men and brutes in this point, feems to be
remarkable. Men are at ali times pretty equally
difpofed to the pleafures of love, becaufe they are
to be guided by reafon in the time and manner
of indulging them. Had any great pain arifen from
the want of this fatisfadiion , reafon, I am afraid,
vvould lind great difficulties in the performance of
its office. But brutes , vvho obey Iavvs , in the
execution of which their own reafon has but little
fliare, have their ftated feafon; at fuch times it is
not improbable that the fenfation from the vvant
is very troublefome , becaufe the end muft be
then anfwered, or be miffedin many, perhaps for
ever; as the inclination returns on!y with its feafon.

AND BEAUTIFUL. 53

S E C T. X,

O F B E 'A. U T Y.

r v

J- HE paffion which belongs to generatioft, mere-
ly as fuch , is luft only. This is evident in brutes *
whofe paffions are more unmixed, and which pur’-
fue their purpofes more direčth/ than ours. The
only diftinčlion they obferve with regard to their
mates , is that of fex. It is true, that they ftick
feverally to their own fpecies in preference to ali
others. But this preference , I imagine, does not
arife from any fenfe of beauty which they find in
their fpecies, as Mr. Acldifon fuppofes , but from
a law of fome other kind, to which they are fub-
je£l; and tliis we may fairly conclude, from their
apparent want of choice amongft thofe objefts to
which the barriers of their fpecies have confined
them. But man, who is a creature adapted to a
greater variety and intricacy of relation, connecls
with the general paffion , the idea of fome focial
qualities, which direct and heighten the appetite
which he has in common with ali other animals j,

E 3

54 ON THE SUB LIME

and as he is not defigned like them to live at large,
it is fit that he fhould have fomething to create a
preference, and fix his choice ; and this in general
ffiould be fome fenfible quality ;  as no other can
fo quickly, fo powerfully or fo furely produce
its effeči The obječl therefore of this mixed
paffion, which we call love , is the beauty  of the
fex.  Men are carried to the fex in general, as it
is the fex, and by the common law of nature;
but they are attached to particularš by perfonal
beauty.  I call beauty a focial quality; for where
women and men, and not only they, but when
other animals give us a fenfe of joy and pleafure
in beholding them (and there are many that do
fo), they infpire us with fentiments of tendernefs
and affeclion towards their perfons ; we like to
have them near us, and we enter willingly into
a kind of relation with them , unlefs we iliould
have ftrong leafons to the contrary. But to rvhat
end, in many cafes, this was defigned , I am
unable to difcover ; for I fee no greater reafon for
a connexion between man and feveral animals who
are attired in fo engaging a manner, than between

AND BEAUTIFUL. 55

him and fome others vvho entirely want this
attraction, or poffefs it in a far weaker degree.
But it is probable , that Providence did not make
even this diftinčlion, but with a view to fome
great end, though we cannot perceive diflinčlly
•vvhat it is, as his wifdom is not our vvifdom, nor
our ways his ways.

S E C T. XI.

S O C I E T Y AND SOLIT UD E.

TPHE fecond branch of the focial paffions is that
\vhich adminifters to fociety in general.  With regard
to this, I obferve, that fociety, merely as fociety,
without any particular heightenings, gives us no
pofitive pleafure in the enjoyment; but abfolute
and entire folitude , that is, the total and perpetual
exelufion from ali fociet.y, is as great a pofitive
pain as can almoft be conceived. Therefore in the
balance between the pleafure of general fociety ,
and the pain of abfolute folitude, pain  is the
predorninam idea. But the pleafure of any parti¬
cular focial enjoyment outweighs very confiderably

El

56

ON THE S U B L I M E

the uneafmefs caufed by the vvant of that particular
enjoyment; fo tliat the ftrongeft fenfations relative
to the habitudes of particular fociely  , are fenfations
of pleafure. Good company, lively converfations,
and the endearments of friendfhip, fill the mind
\vith great pleafure ; a temporary folitude , on the
other hand, is itfelf agreeable. This may perhaps
prove that we are creatures defigned for con-
templation as .well as ačlion ; fince folitude as well
as fociety has its pleafures; as from the former
obfervation we may difcern, that an entire life of
folitude contradičts the purpofes of our being,
fince death itfelf is fcarcely an idea of more terror.

AND B E A U T I F U Lf

57

S E C T. XII.

SYMPATHY, IMITATION, AND AMBITION.

Under  this denomination of fociety, the paf-
fions are of a complicated kind, and br nch out
into a variety of forms agreeable to that variety
of ends they are to ferve in the great chain of
fociety. The three principal links in this chain
are fympathy  , imitation , and ambition.

S E C T. XIII.

S Y M P A T H Y.

IT is by the firft of thefe paffions that we enter
into the concerns of others; that we are moved
, aš they are moved, and are never fuffered to be
indifferent fpeclators of almoft any thing which
men can do or fuffer. For fympathy muft be
confidered as a for.t of fubftitution, by which we
are put into the plače cf another man, and af-
fečled in many refpečts as he is affefted; fothat
this palhon may either partake of the nature of

58 ON THE SUBLIME

thofe which regard felf-prefervation, and turning
upon pain may be a fource of the fublime; or
it may turn upon ideas of pleafure ; and then
■vvhatever has been faid of the focial affečlions,
vvhether they regard fociety in general; or only
fome particular modes of it, may be applic^ble
here, Ie 1 'is by this principle chiefiy that poetry,
painting, and other affe&ing arts, transfufe their
paffions from one breaft to another , and are
often capable of grafting a delight on wretched-
liefs, mifery, and death itfelf. It is a common
obfervation , that obječls \vhich in the reality
would fliock, are in tragical, and fuch like re-
prefentations, the fource of a very high fpecie*
of pleafure. This taken as a fačt, has been the
caufe of much reafoning;. The fatisfaction has
been commonly attributed, hrft , to the cora*
fort we receive in confidering that fo melancholy
a ftory is no more than a fičlion; and next, to
the contemplation of our o\vn freedom from the
evils wliich we fee reprefented. I am afraid it
is a pra&ice much too common in inquiries of
this nature , to attribute the caufe of feelings
which merely arife from the mechanical ftruclure

AND BEAUTIFUL, 5g

of our bodies, or from the natural frame and
conflitution of our minds, to certain conclufions
of the reafoning faculty on the obječls prefented
to us $ for I ihould imagine, that the influence of
reafon in producing our paffions is nothing neap
fo extenfive as it is commonly believed.

THE EFFECTS OF SYMPATHY IN THE DISTRESSES

of tragedy in a proper manner, we mufi previ-
oufly confider how we are affečled by the feelings
of our fellovv-creatures in circumftances of real
diftrefs. I am convinced we have a degree of
delight, and that no fmall one, in the real mis-
fortunes and pains of others; for let the_ailečlion
be what it will in appearance, if it does not make
us hran fome objehls, if on the contrary it induces
us to approach them, if it makes us dvveli up o n.
them, in tliis cafe I conceive we muft have a

S E C T. X I V,

OF OTHERS.

concerning the effecl

6o ON THE SUBLIME

delight or pleafure of fomefpecies or other in con-
templating obječls of this kind. Do we not read
the authentic hiflories of fcenes of this nature with
as much pleafure as romances or poems, vvhere
the incidents are fičtitious ? The profperity of no
empire, nor the grandeur of no king, can fo
agreeably affečt in the reading, as the ruin of the

fiate of Macedon , and the diftrefs of its unhappy

•

prince. Such a cataflrophe touches us in hiflory as
much as the deftručlion of Troy does in fable-
Our delight, in cafes of this kind, is very greatly
heightened, if the fufferer be fome excellent perfon
tvlio finks under an unworthy fortune. Scipio and
Cato are both virtuous characters ; but we are
more deeply affečled by the violent death of the
one, and the ruin of the great caufe he adhered
to, than with the deferved triumphs and unin-
terrupted profperity of the other; for terror is a
paffion which ?lways produces delight when it
does not prefs too clofe; and pity is a paffion
accompanied with pleafure, becaufe it arifes from
love and focial affečlion. Whenever we are formed
by nature to any ačlive purpofe, the paffion
vvhich animates us to it, is attended with

AND BEAUTIFUL, 61

delight, or a pleafure offomekind, let the fubječl-
matter be wliat it will ; and as our Creator bas
defigned we fhould be united by the bond of
fympathy, he has ftrengthened that bond by a
proportionable delight; and there moft where our
fympathy is moft wanted, in the diftreffes of
others. If tir is paffion was fimply painful, we
vvould fhun with the greateft čare ali perfons and
places that could excite fuch a paffion j as fome,
who are fo far gone in indolence as not to endure

O

any ftrong impreffion, a<Ttually do. But the cafe
is widely different with the greater part of mankind;
there is no fpečtacle we fo eagerlv purfue, as that
of fome uncommon and grievous calamity; fo
that whether the misfortune is before our eyes,
or vvhether tlrey are turned back to it in hiftory,
it always touches with delight. This is not an
unmixed delight, but blended with no fmall
uneafinefs. The delight we have in fuch things,
hinders us from fhunning fcenes of mifery; and
the pain we feel, prompts us to relieve ourfelves
in relieving thofe who fuffer; and ali this antece-
dent to any reafoning, by an inftinčl that works
us to its own purpofes vvithout our concurrence.

6q ON THE SUBLIME
S E C T, XV.

or THE EFFEGTS OF TRAGEDY.

IT is thus in real calamities. In imitated diftreffes
the only difference is the pleafure refulting from
the effečls of imitation; for it is never fo perfečl,
but \ve can perceive it is imitation, and on that
principle are fomevvhat pleafed with it. And
indeed in fome cafes we derive as much or more
pleafure from that fource than from the thing
itfelf. But then I imaaine we fiiall be much

O

miftaken if we attribute any confiderable part of
our fatisfaclion in tragedy to the confideration
that tragedy is a deceit, and its reprefenfations no
realities. The nearer it approaehes the reality,
and the further it removes us from ali idea of
fičiion, the more perfe£l is its power, But be its
power of what kind it vvill, it never approaehes
to what it reprefents. Chufe a day on \vhich to
reprefent the moft fublime and affedling tragedy
we havej appoint the moft favorite ačtors; fpare
no coft upon the fcenes and decorations 5 unite the

AND BEAUTIFUL.

63

greateft efforts of poetry , painting , and mufic j
and when you have collečted your audience, juft
at the moment when their minds are erečt with
expečlation, let it be reported that a fiate crimi'
nal of high rank is on the point of being executed
in the adjoining fquare; in a moment the emp-
tinefs of the theatre would demontirate the com-
parative weaknefs of the imitative arts , and pro-
claim the triumph of the real fympathy. I believe
that this notion of our having a fimple pain in the
reality, yet a delight in the reprefentation , arifes
from hence, that we do not fufficiently diflinguifh
what we would by no means chufe to do, from
what we fhould be eager enough to fee if it was
once done. We delight in feeing things, vvhich fo
far from doing, our heartiefl vvifhes would be to fee
redrefled. This noble Capital, the prideofEngland
and of Europe, I believe no man is fo ftrangely
wicked as to defire to fee deflroyed by a confiagra-
tionoran earthquake, though he fhould beremov-
ed himfelf to the greateft diftance from the danger.
Butfuppofe fuch a fatal accident to have happened,
what numbers from ali parts would crowd to behold

6i  O N - T H E S TJ B L I M E

the ruins, and amongft tliem many who \vould have
been content never to have feen London in it*
glory! Nor is it, either in real or fklitious diftreffes,
our immunity from them vvhich produces our
delight ■  in my own mind I can difcover nothing
like it. I apprehend that this miftake is owing to a
fort of lophifm, by vvhich vve are frequent!y im-
pofed upon; it arifes from our not diftinguiihing
betvveen what is indeed a neceffary condition to
our doing or fuffering any thing in general, and
what is the caufe  of fome particular ačt. If a mau
kills me with a fword, it is a necellary condition
to this that we lliould have been both of us alive
before the fačt; and yet it would be abfurd to
fay, that our bhing both living creatures vvas the
caufe of his crime and of my death. So it is certain,
that it is abfolutely neceffary my life lliould be out
of any imminent hazard, before I can take a
delight in the fufferings of others, real or imaginary ■>
pr indeed in any thing elfe from any caufe what-
foever. But then it is a Lophifm to argue from
thence, that this immunity is the caufe of my
delight either on thefe or on any occafions. No
one can diftinguthi fuch a caufe of fatisfaflion

m

AND BEAUTIFUL. 65

in his own mind, I believe; nay, when we do
not fuiler any very acute pain, nor are expofed to
any imminent danger of our lives , we can feel
for others, whilft we fuffer ourfelves; and often
then moft when we are foftened by affliction; we
fee with pity even diftreffes which we would
accept in the plače of our own.

S E C T. N V L

I M I T A T I 0 N.

THE fecond paffion belonging to fociety is
imitation, Or, if you will, a defire of imitating,
and confequently a pleafure in it, This paffion
arifes from much the farne caufe with fympathy.
For as fympathy makes us take a coricern in whatever
men feel, fo this affečlion prompts us to copy
rvhatever they do; and confequentiy we have a
pleafure in imitating, and in whatever belongs to
imitation merely as it is fuch, tvithout any inter-
vention of the reafoning faculty; but folely from
our natural conftitution^ which Providence has
framed in fuch a manner as to find either plea-

F

66

ON THE S U B L I M E

fare or delight, according to the nature of the
obječl, in vvhatever regards tli e purpofes of our
being. It is by imitation , far more than by precept,
that vve learn every thing ; and what we learn
thus, we acquire not only more effe£i;ually s  but
more pleafantly. This fcrms our manners, our
opinions, our lives. It is one of the flrongeil links of
fociety; it is a fpecies of mutual compliance, vvhich
ali men yield to each other , without conflraint to
tbemfelves, and which is extremely flatteringto alb,
Herein it is that painting and manv other agreeable
arts have laid one of the principal foundations of
their povver. And fince, by its influence on our
manners and our paffions > it is of fuch great
Confequence, I fhall here venture to lay down a
rule , vvhich may inform us vvith a good degree of
certainty when we are to attribute the povver of
the arts to imitation, or to our pleafure in the
fkill of the imitator merely, and when to fympathy,
Or fome other caufe in conjunftion with it, When
the object reprefented in poetry or painting is
fuch as we Gould have no defire of feeing in the
reality, tlien I may be fure that its povver in

AND B E AUTlFULi

6 7

poetfy or painting is owing to the power of imi-
tation, and to no caufe operating in the thing itfelf.
So it is with mofl of the pieces vvhich the painters
call flih-life. In thefe a cottage, a dunghill, the
meaneft and moft ordinary utenfils of thekitchen.,
are capable of giving us pleafure. But vvhen the
obječt of the painting or poem is fuch as v/e fhoulc?
run to fee if real, let it affečl ns with \yhat odd
fort of fenfe it will, we may rely upon it, thafi'
the po\ver of the poem or pičture is more o\ving
to the nature of the thing itfelf than. to the mere
e fine l  of imitation, or to a confideration of the
fkiil of tlie imitator, hotvever excellent. -Ariftotle
lias fpoken fo much and fo folidly upon the force
of imitation in his Poetics, that it makes any
further difceurfe upon this fubječl the lefs neceflary.

63 ON THE SUB-LIME

S E C T. XVII.

AMEITION,

A LTHOU^H imitation is one of the great
inftrument3 ufed by Providence in bringing our
nature towards its perfečtion, yet if men gave
themfelves up to imitation entirely, and each
folio\ved the other, and fo on in an eternal circle,
it is eafy to fee that there never could be any
improvement amongft them. Men rnuft remain a»
brutes do, the farne at the end that they are at
this day, and that they were in the beginning of
the world. To prevent this, God ha$ planted in
man a fenfe of ambition, and a iarisfailion arifing
from the contemplation of liis excelling his fellows
in fomething deemed valuable amongft them. It is
this paffion that drives men to ali the ways we
fee in ufe of fignalizing themfelves, and that tends
to make vvhatever excites in a man the idea of
this diftinčtion fo very pleafant. It has been fo
ftrong as to make very miferable men take comfort,
that they were fupreme in mifery; and certain it is,

AND BEAUTIFUL. 69

that where we cannot diftinguifh ourfelves by
fomething excellent, \ve begin to take a compla-
cency in fome fingular infirmities, follies, or de-
fečts of one kind or other. It is on this principle
that flattery is fo prevalent; for flattery is no more
than what raifes in a man’s mind an idea of a
preference which he has not. Now, whatever
either on good or upon bad gronnds, tends to
raife a man in his own opinion, produces a fort
of fwelling and triumph, that is extremely grateful
to the human mind j and this fwelling is never
more perceived, nor operates vvith more force,
than when without danger we are converfant with
terrible objects, the mind al\vays claiming to itfelf
fome part of the dignity and importance of the
things which it contemplates. Hence proceeds
what Longinus has obferved of that glorying and
fenfe of inwarcl greatnefs , that alvvays ftlls the
reader of fuch paffages in poets and orators as are
fublime; it is \vhat cvery man muli have felt in
himfelf upon fuch occafions.

F 3

7 <>

ON THE S U B L TM E

S E C T, XVIII.

THE RECAPIIU1ATI0N,

rp

J. O cfraw the whole of what has been faid into
a few diftinčl points; The paffions which belong
to felf-prefervation , turn on pain and danger;
they are fimply painful when their caufes imrae-
diately affetl us ; they are delightful when \ve
have an idea of pain and danger, \vithout being
actually in fuch circumftances ; this delight I have
not called pleafure , becaufe it turns on pain, and
becaufe it is different enough from any idea of
p o h tire pleafure. "VVhatever excites this delight,
I culi jublime.  The paffions belonging to felf-pre-
fervation are the ftrongeft of ali the pallions.

The fecond head to tvhich the pallions are
referred with relation to their final caufe, is fociety.
There are two fouts of focieties. Thefirftis, the
fociety of fex. The pallion belonging to this is
called love, and it contains a rnixture of luft; it*
objeti is the beauty of women. The other is the
great fociety with man and ali other animals.

AND BEAUTIFUL.

n

The paflion fubfervient to this is called Hkevvife
love, but it has no mixture of lult, and its objedl
is beauty; which is a name I fliall apply to ali
fuch qualities in things as induce in us a fenfe of
affedlion and tendernefs, or fome other paflion
the maft nearly refembling thefe. The paflion of
love has its rife in pofitive pleafnre j it is, like ali
things \vhich grow out of pleafure , eapable of
being mixed with a mode of uneafinefs, that is ,
vvhen an idea of its object is excited in the mind
vvithanidea at the farne time ofhavins irretrieva-
bly loft it. This mixed fenfe of pleafure. I have not
called pain , becaufe it turns upon adlual pleafure ,
and becaufe it is, both in its caufe and in moft
of its effects, of a nature altogether different.

Next to the general paflion we have for fociety,
to a choice in \vhich we are diredled by the plea¬
fure we have in the objecl, the particular paflion
under this head called fympathy has the greateft
extent. The nature of this paflion is ,  to put us
in the plače of another in \vhatever circumftance
he is in, and to affedl us in a like manner; fo
that this paflion may, as the occahon requires,

F 4-

ON THE SUBLIME

72

turn either on pain or pleafure ; but with the
modifications mentioned in fome cafes in fečt. 11«
As to imitation and preference , notliing more
need be faid.

S E C T. XIX,

THE CONCLUSION,

I Believe that an attempt to range and methodize
fome of our moft leading paffions, would be a
good preparative to fuch an inquir'y as we are
going to make in the enfuing difcourfe. The
paffions I have mentioned are almoft the only ones
vvhich it can be neceffary to confider in our
prefent defign ; though the variety of the paffions
is great, ^nd wortliy in every branch of that
variety of an attentive inveftigation. The more
accurately vve fearch into the human mind , the
ftronger traces vve every vvhere hnd of his vvifdom
vvho made it. If a difcourfe on the ufe of the
parts ofthebody may be confidered as a hymn to
the Creator, the ufe of the paffions, which o are the
organs ofthe mind, cannot be barren of praife to him

AND BEAUTIFUL  ' 73

nor unprodučiive to ourfelves of that noble and

uncommon union oflcience and admiration , vvhich

a contemplation of the vvorks of infinite wifdom

alone can afford to a rational mind ; whilft, referring

to him vvhatever we find of right or good or fair

in ourfelves, difcovering his ftrength and wifdom

even in our own weaknefs and imperfečtion,

honoring them where we difcover them clearly,

and adoring their profundity where we are loft in

our fearch, we may be inquifitive without imper-

tinence, and elevated vvithout pride; vve may be

admitted, if I may dare to fay fo, into the coun-

fels of the Almighty by a confideration of his

works. The elevation of the mind ought to be

the principal end of ali our ftudies, which if they

do not in fome meafure effecl, they are of very

little fervice to us. But, behdes this great pur-

pofe, a confideration of the rationale of ourpaffions

feems to me very neceffary for ali who. would

affedt them upon folid and fure principles. It is

not enough to know them in general: to affedf

them after a delicate manner, or to judge properly

ofany work defigned to affecl them, we fliouldknoiv

!

ON THE SUBLIME

U

tlie exačt boundaries of their feveral j urifdičiions;
we fliould purfue them through ali their variety
of operations, and pierce into the inmoft , and
vvhat might appear inaceffible parts of our nature,

(hiod letet arcana non enarrablle fibrd.

Without ali this it is pdflible for a man, after a
confufed manner , fometimes to fatisfy his o\vn
mind ofthe truthof his vvork; buthe can never have
a certain determinate rule to go by, nor can h e
ever make his propohtions fufficiently clear to
othgrs. Poets , and orators, and painters, and
thofe who cultivate other branches of the liberal
arts, have without this critical knowledge fucceeded
well in their- feveral- provinces, and will fucceed;
as among artificers there are many machines made
and even invented without any exaft knowledge
of the principles they are governed by. It is, I ovvn
not uncommon*to be wrong in theOry andright in
praftice; and we are happy that it is fo. Men often
ačt right ftom their feelings ,  wiio afterwards reafon

and beautiful,

7  5

But ill on them fromprinciple; but as it is impoffible
to avoid an attempt at fuch reafoning, and equally
impoffible to prevent its having lome influence on
our pratlice, furely it is worth taking fome pains
to have it juft, and founded on the bafis of fure
experience. VVe might expect that the artifts
themfelves would have been our fureft guidesq
but the artifts have been toče much occupied in
the pračlice: the philofophers have done little j
aiuT what they have done , was moftly with a view
to their o\vn fchemes and fyftems; and as forthofe
called critics ,they have generally fought the rule of
the arts in the wrong plače, they fought it among
poems, pičlures ,engravings, ftatues, and buildings.
But art can never give the rules that make an art.
This is , I believe, the reafon why artifts in
general, and poets principally, have been confined.
in fo. narrow a circle; they have been rather
imitators of one another than of nature; and this
with fo faithful an uniformity 5  and to fo remote
an antiquity ,tliat it is hard to fay who gave the
firft model. Critics follow them, and therefore can

76 ON THE SUBLIME

do little as guides. I can judge but poorly of any
thing, \vhilft I meafure it by no other ftandard
than itfelf. The true ftandard of the arts is in
every man’s power; and an eafy obfervation of
the moft common , fometimes of the meaneft things
in nature, will give the trueft lights, where the
greateft fagaeity and induftr/ that flights fuch
obfervation, rnuft leave us in the dark, or, vvhat
is worfe, a mufe and miflead us by falfe lights. In
an inquiry it is alinoft everv thing to be onče in
a risht road. I am fatished I have done but little

O

by thefe obfervations confidered in themfelves;
and I never lliould have taken the pains to digeft
them, much lefs lliould I have ever ventured to
publilli them , if I was not convinced that nothing
tends more to the corruption of fcience than to
fuffer it to ftagnate. Thefe waters muft be troubled
before they can exert their virtues. A man who
vvorks beyond the furface of things, though he
may be vvrong himfelf, yet he clears the way for
others, and may chance to make even his errors
fubfervient to thecaufe of truth. In the follovving
Parts I ihall inquire what things they are that caufe

AND BEAUTIFUL. 77

in us the alfeČtions of the fublime and beautiful, as
in this I have confidered the allections themfelves.
I only defire one favor, that no part of this dif-
courfe may be judged’ of by itfelf, and independ-
ently of the reft; for I am fenfible I have not
difpofed my materials to abide the teft of a
captious controverfy, but of a fober and even
forgiving examination; that they are not armed
at ali points for battle, but dreffed to vifit thofe
who are willing to give a peaceful entrance to
truth.

THE END OF THE FIRST PART.

A

i

PHILOSOPHICAL IN£UIRY

I N T O THE

0RIG1N OF 0 UR IDE AS

O F  THE

SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL,

PA R T I L

S E C T. I.

OF fHE PASSION CAUSED ETI THE SUBLIME.

The  paffion caufed by the gfeat and fublime
in nature , vvhen thofe caufes operate moft povver-
fully, is aftonilhment j and aftonilhment is that
fiate of the foul, in vvhich ali its motions are
fufpended, vvith fonie degree of borror ■*. In this
cafe the mind is fo entirely filled vvith its obječl,
that it 'cannot entertain any other nor by con-

* Part. i. Stčt. 5, 4  & 7.

So

ON  THE SUBLIME

fequence reafon on that objeti vvhich employs it.
HenCe arifes the great po\ver ofthe fublime 3  that,
far from being produced by them, it anticipates
our reafonings, and hurries us on by an irrefift-
ible force. Aftonifhment, as I have faid, is the
effeft of the fublime in its higheft degree; the
inferior eflečls are admiration , reverence , and
refpecl

S E C T. I L

T E R R O R.

Tsf” O paflion fo effe£lually robs the mind of ali
its powers of aČling and reafoning as fear. * For
fear being aji apprehenfion of pain or death, it
operates in a manner that refembles ačlual pain.
VVhatever therefore is terrible, with regard to
fight, is fublime too, vvhether this caufe of terror,
be endued with greatnefs of dimenfions or not;
for it is impolfible to look on any thing as trifling,
or contemptible , that may be dangerous. There
are many animals, who though for from being

* Part. IV. fečt. j, 4, 5 , 6.

large

AND BEAUTIFUL,

81

large, are yet capable of raifing ideas of the
fublime, becaufe they are confidered as obje£ls of
terror; as ferpents and poifonous animals of almoft
ali kinds. 'And to things of great dimenfions, if vve
annex an adventitious idea of terror, they become
without comparifon greater. A level plain of a vaft
extent on land, is certainly no mean idea; the
profpeči of fuch a plain may be as extenfive as a
profpečt of the ocean: but can it ever fill the
mind with any thing fo great as the ocean itfelf?
This is otving to feveral caufes; but it is owing to
none more than this, that this ocean is an obječl: of
no fmall terror. Indeed terror is in ali cafes what-
foever, either more openly of latentlyj the ruling
principle of the fublime. Several languages bear
a flrong teftirnony to the affinity of thefe ideas.
They frequently ufe the farne wotd, to fignify
indifferently the modes of aftonifhment or admi-
ration and thofe of tefror. ©«m&?  is in Greek,
either fear or wonder; is terrible or refpeftable ;

to reverenee or to fear. Vereor  in Latin, is
tv h at ctihu  is in Greek. The Romans ufed the \ erb
Jhipeo  j a term which ftrongly marks the ftate of ail
aftoniflied mind, to exprefs the effe£f either of

G

S 2  ON THE SUBLIME

fimple fear, or of aftonifliment; the \vord alionitus
•( thunder-ftruck) is equally expreffive of the alliance
of thefe ideas; and do not the French etonnement,
and the Englifh ajlonifhment  and amazerrient , point
out as clearly the kindred emotions which attend
fear and wonder P They who have a more general
hnotvledge of languages, could produce, I make
no doubt, many other and equallv ftriking
esamples.

SECT. III.

O B S ‘ G tr R I T T.

TO make any thing very terrible, obfcurity 9
feems in general to be neceffary. When weknow
the full extent of any danger, when we can
accuftom our eyes to it, a great deal of the appre-
henfion vaniflies. Every one will be fenfible of
this, who confiders how greatly night adds to our
dread, in ali cales ,of danger, and how much
Sjie notions of ghofls and goblins, of which none
* Part IV. fcčfc- 14, i$, 16.

AND BEAUTIFUL. 83

can form clear ideas, affečl minds which give credit
to the.popular tales concerning fuch forts of beings.
Thofe defpotic governments, which are foundecl
on the paffions of men, and principally trpon the
paffion of fear, keep their chief as much as may
• be from the public eye. The policy lias been the
fame in many cafes of religion. Almoft ali the
heathen temples were dafk. Even in the barba-*
rous temples of the Americans at this day, they
keep their idol in a dark part of the hut, vvhich
is eonfecrated to his worlhip. For this purpofe too
the drnids performed ali their ceremonies in the
bofom of the darkeft woods, and in the fhade pf
the pldeft and moft fpreading oaks. No perfon
feems better to have underltood the fecret ot
heightening , or of fetting terrible things, if I may
ufe the espreffion, in their ftrongeft light, by the
force of a judieious obfcurity, than Milton. His
defcriptioii of death in the fecond book is admi¬
ralih/ lludied ; it is aftonifliing with what a gloomy
pomp, witli -\vhat a fignificant and exprelfive
nncertainty of ftrokes and coloring, he has fmifhecj
the portrait of the king of terrprs.

Gr  g

g 4  ON THE SUBLIME

The other fhape ,

If fhape it might he call'd that fhape had none
Diflinguifhable in tnember  , joint, or limb  ,

Or fubflance might becalidthat Jhadovv feem'd,
For each feemd either ; black it ftood as night ,
Fierce as ten furics , terrible as hell ,

And Jhook a deadiy dart; whatfeemd his head
The likenefs of a kingly crown had on.

In this defcription ali is dark, uncertain, confufed
terrible, and lublime to the laft degree.

AND BEAUTIFUL

85

S E C T. IV.

OF THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CLEARNESS AND
OBSCURITY WITH REGARD TO THE PASSIONS. '

Xt  is onething ta make an idea clear, andanother
to make it affedting to the imagination. If I make
a drawing of a palače, or a temple, or a landfcape,
I prefent a very clear idea of thofe obječls; but
tlien (allovving for the efteel of imitation, which
is fomething) my pičture can at moft affečl; on’y
as the palače, temple, or landfcape, would have
affefted in the realitv. On the other hand, the
moft lively and fpirited verbal delcription I can
give, raifes a very obfCure and imperfedl idea  of
fuch objecls; but then it is in my power to raife a
ftronger emolion  by the defcription than I could do
by the beft painting. This experience conftantly
evinces. The proper manner of conveying the
ajfečlions  of the mind from one to another, is by
words; there is a great infufhciency in ali other
metliods of communication; and fo far is a clearnefs
of imagery from being abfolutely neceffary to an

G 3

86

ON THE SUBLIME

influence upon the paflions, that they may be
confiderably operated upon, vvithout prefenting
any image at ali, by certain founds adapted to that
purpofe; of which we have a fuflicient proof in
the acknowledged and powerful effecis of inflru-
mental muhe. In reality , a great clearnefs helps
but little towards affečling the paflions, as it is in
fome fort an enemy to ali enthuhafms vvhatfoever.

S E C T. IV. 9

THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUEH.

There  are two verfes in EIorace’s art of poetry
that feem to contradičf this opinion , for vvhich
reafon I fhall take a little more pains in clearing it
up. The verfes are,

Segnius irrltanl animos demlJTa per aures ,

(hiam qu& funt oculis fubjecla Jiddibus.

On this the Abbe du Bos founds a criticifm
vvherein he gives painting the preference to poetry
in the article of moving the paflions; principal!y

AND B E A U T I F U L. S ;

©naccount of the greater clearnejs  of the ideas it
reprefents, I believe this excellent judge was led
into this miftake (if it be a miftake) by his fyftem,
to which he found it more eonformable than I
imagine it will be found by experience. I know
feveral vvho admire and love painting, and
yet who regard the obječls of their admiration
in that art with coolnefs enough in comparifon
of that vvarmth with which they are animated
by affečling pieces of poetry or rhetoric. Among
the common fort of people , 1'never could perceive
that painting had much influence on their paflions.
It is true , that the beft forts of painting, as vvell
as the beft forts of poetry, are not much underftood
in that fphere. But it is moft certain, that their
paflions are very ftrongly roufed by a fanatic
preacher, or by the ballads of Chevy-chafe, or
the children in the wood, and by other little
popular poems and tales that are current in that
rank of life, I do not know of any paintings, bad
or good, that produce the farne effečt. So that
poetry, \vith ali its obfcurity, has a more general,
as well as a more powerful dommion over the

G 4

88 ONTHESUBLIME

pafhons than the cther art. And I think there are
reafons in nature, why the obfcure idea, vvhen
properly conveyed , fhould be more affečling than
the clear. It is our ignorance of things that caufes
ali our admiration, and chiefly excites our pafhons.
Knovvledge and acquaintance makes the moli
ftriking caufes affečt but little. It is thus with the
vulgarj and ali men are as thevulgar in \yhat they
do not underftand. The ideas of eternity, and
infinity, are among the moli affečling we have;
and perhaps there is npthing of which we really
underftand fo little, as of infinity, and eternity.
We do not any vvhere meet a more fublime
defcription than this juftly celebrated one of Milton,
whereiq he gives the portrait of Satan with a
dignit.y fo, fuitable to the fubject:

He abovc the reji

ln Jliape and- gejlure proudly eminent
Stood like a torner ; his form kad yet not lofl
Ali her. original brightnefs  , nor appeard
Lefs than archangel rieiiid, and tli excefs
Ofglorp obfcur d; as vvhen the Jim new rifen

AND BEAUTIFU L. 89

Looks through the horizontal mijly air
Shorn oj his beams , or jrom behind the moon
In dim eclipfe dijajlrous tvvilight Jheds
On halj the nations, and with fear oj change
Perple.ves monarchs.

Here is a very noble pifture-; and in what does
this poetical pifture confift ? in images of a tovver,
an archangel, the fun rifing through mifts, or in
an eclipfe, the ruin of monarchs, and the revolu-
tions of kingdoms. The mind is hurried out of
itfelf, by a crowd of great and confufed images;
vvhich affeči becaufe they are crowded and confufed.
For feparate them , and you lofe much of the
greatnefs; andjoin them , andyou infallibly lofe the
clearnefs. The images raifed by poetry are always
of this obfcure kind ; though in general the efiecls
of poetry are by no means to be attributed to
the images it raifes; which point we fhall examine
more at large hereafter But painting, when
we have allowed for the pleafure of imitation,
can only affect fimply by the images it prefents f
and even in painting, a judicious obfcurity in
* Part V.

O N THE SUBLIME

50

fome things contributes to the effečl of the pičture;
becaufe the images in painting are exačlly fimilar
to thofe in nature ; and in nature dark , confufed ,
uncertain images have a greater power on the
fancy to form the grander paffions, than thofe
have which are more clear and determinate. But
\vhere and when this obfervation may be applied
to pračlice, and how far it Ihall be extended,
will be better deduced from the nature of the
fubječt, and from the occafion , than from any
rules that can be given.

I am fenfible that this idea has met with oppofi-
tion, and is likely Hill to be rejefted by feveral.
But let it be confidered, that hardly any thing
can lirike the mind with its greatnefs, vvhich does
not make fome fort of approach to\vards inhmty;
which nothing can do whilft \ve are able to
perceive its bounds ; but to fee an obječl, diftinčl-
ly , and to perceive its bounds , is one and the
farne thing. A clear idea is therefcre another name
for a little idea. Tliere is a palfage in the book of Job
amazingly fublime , and this fublimity is principally

AND BEAUTIFU L;

91;

due to the terrible uncertainty of the thing
defcribed : In thoughts from the vijicms of the nlght ,
ivhen deep f eep falleth upon men. fear came npon me
and tremhling, which made ali my bones to Jhake.
Then a fpirit pajfed before my face. The hair oj my
jlejh Jlood up. It Jlood Jlill , but I could not difcern
the form th ereof; a n image was before mine eyes;
there wbs flence  ; and I heard a voice,  — Shali
mortal man be more juf than God?  We are firft
prepared vvith the utmoft folemnity for the vifion j
we are firft terrified, before we are let even into
the obfcure caufe of our emotion : bat vvhen this
grand caufe of terror malces its appearance, what
is it? is it not wrapt up in the fhades of its own
incomprehenfible darknefs , more awful , more
ftriking, more terrible, than the livelieft defcrip-
tion, than the cleareft painting, could poffibly
reprefent it ? When painters liave attempted to
give us clear reprefentations of thefe very fanciful
and terrible ideas, they have, I think, almofl
always failed; infomuch that I have been at a lofs,
in ali the pičtures I have feen of hell, vvhether
the painter did not intend fomething ludicroug.

92

ON THE SUBLIME

Several painters have handled a babje dl of this
Jdnd \vith a view of affembling as many horrid
phantoms as their imaginations could fuggeft; but
ali the defigns I have chanced to meet of the
temptations of St. Anthony, were rather a fort
of odd vvild grotefques, than any thing capable
of producing a ferious paffion. In ali thefe fubjecls
poetry is very happy. Its apparitions, its chimeras,
its harpies, its allegorical figures, are grand and
aifecling ; and though Virgifs Farne , and Homer’s
Difcord , are. obfcure , they are magnificent
figures. Thefe figures in painting would be clear
enough, but I fear they might become ridiculous.

AND BEAUTIFUL. g3

S E C T. V.

P O W E R.

Bes  ID ES thofe things which direčlly  fuggeft
the idea of danger , and thofe which produce a
fimilar effect from a mechanical caufe, I knovv of
nothing fublime, vvhich is not fome modification
of power. And this branch rifes as naturally as
the other two branches, from terror, the common
ftock of every thing that is fublime. The idea of
povver, at firfl vievv, feems, of the clafs of thefe
indifferent ones, which may equally belong to pain
or to pleafure. But in reality, the affediion arifing
from the idea of vafl povver, is extremely remote
from that neutral charačfer. For firft, we muft
remember, * that the idea of pain, in its higheft
degree, is much ftronger than the higheft degree
of pleafure; and that it preferves the farne fupe-
riority through ali the fubordinate gradations. From
hence it is, that vvhere the chances for equal degrees

* Part I. fečt.

7»

ON THE SUBLIME

94

of fuffering or enjoyment are in any fort equal,
the idea of the fuffering muft always be prevalent.
And indeed the ideas of pain, and above ali of
death, are fo very affečling, that whilft we remain
in the prefence of vvdiatever is fuppofed to have
the power of infličhng either, it is impoffible to
be perfečlly free from terror. Again, we know
by experience, that for the enjoyment of plealurc,
no great efforts of poiver are at ali neceflary; nay,
we lcnow, that fuch efforts would go a great way
tovvards deftroying our fatisfačlion ; for pleafure
muft be ftolen, and not forced upon us; pleafure
follmvs the will; and therefore we are generally
affečted with it by many tliings of a force greatlv
inferior to our own. But pain is al\vays inflidfed
by a povver in fome way fuperior, becaufe we
never fubmit to pain willingly. So that ftrength ,
violence, pain, and terror, are ideas that rufli in
upon the mind together. Look at a man, or any
other animal of prodigious ftrength, and what is
your idea before refleftion? Is it that this ftrength
tv 11] be fubfervient to you, to your eafe, to your
pleafure, to your intereft in any fenfe? No; tli«

AND BEAUTIFUL q5

emotion you feel is, left this enormous ftrength
fhould be employed to the purpofes of * rapine
and deftručlion. That power derives ali its fubli-
mity from the terror with which it is generally
accompanied, will appear evidently from its eilett
in the very fevv cafes in \vhich it may be poffible
to ftrip a confiderable degree of ftrength of its ability
to hurt. When you do this, you fpoil it of every
thing fublime, and it immediately becomes con-
temptible. An ox is a creature of vaft ftrength ; but
he is an innocent creature, extremely ferviceable ,
and not at ali dangerous; for which reafon the
idea of an ox is by no means grand. A buli is
flrong too : but his ftrength is of another leind;
often very deftrucfive, feldom ( at leaft amongft us)
of any ufe in our bufmefs ; the idea of a buli is
therefore great, and it has frequently a plače in
fublime defcriptions , and elevating comparifons.
Let us loolt at another ftrong animal in the two»
diftindt lights in which vve may confider him.
Ttie horfe in the light of an ufeful beaft, fit for
the plough , the road , tlie draught; in every focial
ufeful light the horfe has-nothing of the fublime;

*  Vide Part III, feet, 21-

g6 ON THE SUBLIME

but is it thus thcit W6 3 I*g \vith Tlim ^ Khofe

neck is clo/hed with thiinder  , the glory oj whofe
nojlrils is terrible, who Jwalloweth the ground with
jiercenejs and rage , neither believelh that it is the
Jound oj the trumpet P  In this defcription the ufeful
charadler of the horfe entirely difappears, and the
terrible and fublime blaze out together. We have
continually about us animals of a ftrength that is
confiderable, but not pernicious. Amonglf thef e
we never look for the fublime 5 it comes upon
us in the gloomy foreft , and in the howling
wildernefs, in the form of the lion, the tvger,
the panther, or rhinoceros. Whenever ftrength is
only ufeful, and employed for our benefit or our
pleafure, then it is never fublime ; for nothing
can a£l agreeably to us , that does not ačf in
conformity to our will ; but to adl agreeably to
our will it mufi; be fubjeft to us, and therefore
can never be the caufe of a grand and comnaanding
conception, The defcription of the wild afs, in
Job , is vvorked up into no fmall fublimity merely
by infifting on his freedom, and his fetting man-
find at defiance j otherwife the defcription of

fuch

AND BEAUTIFUL.

97

fuch an animal coulcl have had nothmg rtoble in
it. V\lho hath loofed  (fays he ) the bands oj the wild
ajs P vvhoje houfe 1 have made the vvildernejs , and the
barren land his dvvellings. Ile Jcarneth the multitude oj
the clty , neither regardeth he the voice oj the driver «
The range oj the mountains is his pajiure.  The
magnihcent defeription of the unicorn and of
leviathan in the farne book, is full of the farne
heightening circumftances. Will the unicorn be
vvillihg to Jerve thee P canji thou bind the unicorn
tv it h his band in the furrovv P wilt thou truji him

becauje his Jlrength is great P  —-- Canji thou draw

out leviathan witli a hook P cvili he make a covenant
ivith thee P wih thou take him for a fervant for ever P
Jhall not one be cajl down even at the fight oj him P
In fhort , tvherefoever we find ftrength, and in
what light foever we look upon power, we fhall
ali along obferve the fublime the concomitant of
terror, and čontempt the attendant on a ftrength
that is fubfervient and innoxious. The race of
dogs in many of their kinds , have generally a
competent degree of ftrength and fwiftnefs; and
they exert thefe and other valuable qnalities v/hich

H

ON THE S U B L I M E

they poffefs, greatly to our convenience and plea-
fure. Dogs are indeed the moft focial, affeftionate,
and amiable animals of the whole brute creation;
but love approaches much nearer to contempt
than is commonly imagined ; and accordingly,
thougli we carefs dogs, we borrovv from them an
appellation of the moft defpicable fin d, \vhen we
employ terms of reproach ; and this appellation
is the common mark of the laft vilenefs and con¬
tempt in every language. Wolves have not more
ftrength than feveral fpecies of dogs; but, on
account of their unmanageable ftercenefs , the
idea of a wolf is not defpicable $ it is not exclud-
ed ffom grand defcriptions and fimilitudes. Thus
we are affecled by ftrength , which is natural
power. The power \vhich arifes from inftitution
in kings and commanders, has the farne connec-
tion with terror. Sovereigns are frequently addref-
fed with the title of dreacl majejly.  And it may
be obferved, that young perfons, little acquainted
with the world, and who have not been ufed
to approach men in povver, are commonly ftruck
vvith an avve whick takes away the free ufe of

AND BEAUTIFUL.

99

their faculties. IVhen 1 prepared my feat in thejlreet
(fays Job), the young men faw me , and hid themfelves.
Indeed, fo natural is this timidity witli regard to
power, and fo ftrongly does it inhere in our con-
ftitution, that very few are able to conquer it,
but by mixing much in the bufinefs of the great
world, or by ufing no fmall violence to their na¬
tural difpofitions. I know fome people are of
opinion, that no awe, no degree of terror, accom-
panies the idea of power: and have hazarded to
affirm, that we can contemplate the idea of God
liimfelf, without any fuch emotion. I purpofely
avoided, when I firft confidered this fubjecf, to
introduce the idea of that great and tremendous
Being, as an example in an argument fo light as
this; though it frequently occurred to me, not as
an obje&ion to, but as a ftrong cohfirmation of,
my notions in this matter. I h op e, in what I am
going to fay , I Riali avoid prefumption, where
it is almoft impoffible for any mortal to fpeak
with ftrict propriety. I fay then, tli at vvhilft vve
confider the Godhead merely as he is an obječl of
the underftanding, vvhich forms a complex idea

H 2

10O ON THE S U B L I M E

of power, vvifdom, juhice, goodnefs, ali hretched
to a degree far exceeding the bounds of our com-
prehenhon, whilh we confider the Divinity in this
refined and abftracled light, the imagination and
paffions are little or nothing affeeied. But becaufe
we are bound, by the condition of our nature,
to afcend to thefe pure and intellečfual ideas,
through the medium of fenfible images, and to
judge of thefe divine qualities by their evident acb
and exertions, it becomes extremely hard to difen™
tangle our idea of the caufe from the effečl by
tvhich we are led to knovv it. Thus when we
contemplate the Deity, his attributes and their
operation coming united on the mind, form a fort
of fenfible image, and as fuch are capable of afledt-
ing the imagination. Now, though in a juft idea
of the Deity , perhaps none of his attributes are
predominant, yet to otir imagination, his power
is by far the moft liriking. Some refledion, fome
comparing, is neceffary to fatisfy us of his wifdom,
his juhice, and his goodnefs. To be flruck with
his povver, it is only neceffary that we fliould
open our eye#. But whilft we contemplate fo vafl

AND BEAUTIFUL.

13 !

*n obječl, under the ariri, as itwere, of almighty
power, and invefled upon every fide with omni-
prefence, we fhrink into the minutenefs of our
own nature , and are, in a manner, annihilated
before him. And though a confideration of his
other attributes may relieve in fome meafure our
apprehenfions ; yet no conviclion of the juhice
with vvhich it is exercifed, nor the mercy with
vvhich it is tempered , can wlfolly remove tlie terror
that naturally arifes from a force which nothing
can vvithftand. If we rejoice, we rej oicevvith trem«
bling: and even whilft we are receiving benefits,
we cannot but fhudder at a power which can
confer benefits of fuch mighty importance. When
the prophet David contemplated the wonders of
wifdom and power \vhich are difplaved in the
economy of man, he feems to be ftruck with a fort
of divine horror, and cries out, Fearfully and wonder-
fully amlmade!  A heathen poet has a fentiment of
a fimilar nature ; Horace looks upon it as the laft
effort of philofophical fortitude, to behold without;

H 3

terror and amazement, this immenfe and glorious
fabric of the univerfe:

Hune Johni , et Jlellas  , et decedentia ceniš
Tempora momentis, funt qui formidine nulla
Imbuli fpcčlant,

Lucretius is a poet not to be fufpečted of giving
way to fuperftitious terrors; yet when he fuppofes
the vvhole mechanifm of nature laid open by the
mafter of his philoiophy, his tranfport on this
magnificent view, which he has reprefented in
the colors of fuch bold and lively poetry , is
overcaft \vith a ihade of feeret dread and liorror:

His tibi me rebus quedam divina voluptas
Percipit, atque horro *, quod Jic Natura tua vi
Tam manijefla patet ex omni parte retečla.

But the feriptuse alorie can fupply ideas anfvverable
to the majefty of this fubject. In the feripture,
wherever God is reprefented as appearing or fpeak-
ing, every thing terrible in nature is called up
to heighten the awe and folemnity of the divine
preferice, The pfalms, and the prophetical books,
are crorvded with inftances of this kind. The earth
Jhook  (fa.ys the pfalmift ), the heavens alfo dropped at

AND BEAUTIFUL.

ioS

the prefence ofthe Lord.  And what is remarkable,
the painting preferves the farne charačter, not only
when he is fuppofed defcending to take vengeance
upon the wicked, but even when he exerts the
like plenitude of power in ačls of beneficence to
mankind. Tremble thouearth! at the prefence of the.
Lord; at the prefence of the God of Jacob; which
turned the rock into Jlanding vvater  , the flint into a
fountain of vvaters!  It were endlefs to enumerate
ali the palfages, both in the facred and profane
vvriters, which eftablilh the general fentiment of
mankind, concerning' the infeparable union of a
facred and reverential awe, \vith our ideas of the
divinity. Hence the comraon maxim, Pritnos irt
orbe deos fecit timor.  This maxim may be, as I
believe it is, falfe with regard to the origin of
religion. The maker of the maxim faw how
infeparable thefe ideas were , without confidering
that the notion of fome great power mufi be
always precedent to our dread of it. But this
dread mufi neceffarily follorv the idea of fuch a
povver, when it is once excited in the inind. It is
on this principle that true religion has, and muli

H 4

104 O N THE S U B L I M E

have, fo large a mixture of falutary fear; and that
falfe religions have generally nothing elfe but fear
to fupport them. Before the Chriftian religion had ,
as it were, humanized the idea of the Divinity,
and brought it fomewhat n e ar er to us, there was
very little faid of the love of God. The follovvers
of Plato have fomething of it, and only fomething;
the other ivriters of pagan antiquity, vvhether
poets or philofophers, nothing at ali. And they
\vho conhder \vith what infinite attention, by
what a difregard of every perilhable objeft ,
through vvhatlong habits of piety and contemplation
it is, any man is able to attain an entire love and
devotion to the Deity, \vill eafily perceive, that
it is not the firft, the moft natural, and the moli
ffriking effedt which proceeds from that idea. Thus
we have traced power through its feveral gradations
unto the higheft of ali, where our imagination is
hnally loft; and we find terror , quite througliout
the progrefs, its infeparable companion, and
grorving along with it, as far as we can poffibly
trače them. Novv, as povver is undoubtedly a
Capital fource of the fublime, this will point out

AND BEAUTIFUt. io5

evidently from vvhence its energy is derived,and
to what clafs of ideas we ought to unite it

S E C T. VI,

PRIVATION,

j^L  L L general  privations are great, becaufe they
are ali terrible; Vacuity , Darknefs , Solitude,  and
Silence.  With what a lire of imagination , yet with
what feverity of judgment, has Virgil amaffed ali
thefe eircumftances , where he fnovvs that ali the
images of a tremendous dignity ought to be united,
at the mouth of hell! where, before he unlocks
the fecrets of the great deep , he feems to be
feized with a religious horror, and to retire
aftoniflied at the boldnefs of his own defign:

Dl quibus imperium ejl animarum, umbr<zque  filentes!
Et Chaos, et Phlegethon! loca  notle filentia latel
Sit miki fas audita loqui! Jit numine vejlra
Pandere res aha terra et  caligine me/jas 1

io6 ON THE SUBLIME

•

Jbant  obfcuri, fola Juh  nočle , per  umbram,
Perque domos Ditis  vacuas, et  inania regna.

Te fubterraneous gods ! whofe avvful fway
The gliding ghojls , and  filent Jhades obey;

O Chaos , hear! and Phlegethon profoundl
Whofe folemn empire Jlretches wide around!

Give me , ye great tremendous povvers, to teli
Of fcenes and vvonders in the depth of hell:

Give me your mighty fecrets to difplay
Prom thoje  black realms of darknefs to the day r

PlTT.

Obfcure they went through dreary  fliades that led
Along the wafie domimons of the  dead.

Dryden.

AND BEAUTIFUL

i°7

S E C T. VIL

VASTNESS.

(jREATNESS *  of dimenfion is a powerful
caufe of the fublime. 1 his is too evident, and the
obfervation too common, to need any illuftration;
it is not fo common, to confider in what ways
greatnefs of dimenfion, vaftnefs of extent or
quantity, has the molt ftriking effccl. F or certainly,
there are ways, and modes, wherein the fam«
quantity of extenfion fhall produce greater effečls
tlian it is found to do in others. Extenfion is
either in length., height, or depth. Of thefe the
length ftrikes leaft; a hundred yards of even
ground vvill never work fucli. an effcct as a tower
a hundred yards high , or a rock or mountain of
that altitude. I am apt to imagine likevvife , that
height is lefs grand than depth; and that we are
more flruck at looking dovvn from a precipice ,
than looking up at an obječl of equal height: but

of that I am not very pofitive, A perpendicular
* Part IV. feft. 9,

joS ON THE SUBLIME

has more force in forming the fublime, than an
inclined plain; and the effečts of a rugged and
broken furface feem ftronger than where it is
fmooth and polilhed. It would carry us out of our
way to enter in this plače into the caufe of thefe
appearances; but certain it is they afford a large
and fruitful field of fpeculation. Hotvever, it may
not be amifs to add to thefe remarks upon
magnitude, that, as the great extreme of dimenfion
is fublime, fo the laft extreme of littlenefs is in
fome meafure fublime likewife ; when we attend
to the infinite divifibility of matter, \vhen we
purfue animallife into thefe exceifively fmall,
and yet organized beings, that efcape the nicefl
inquifition of the fenfe, when we pulh our difco-
veries yet downward, and confider thofe creatures
fo many degrees yet fmaller , and the ftill dimi-
nilhing fcale of exiftence, in tracing vvhich the
imagination is loft as well as the fenfe, we become
amazed and confounded at the wonders of
minutenefs; nor can we diftinguilh in its effečl
this extreme of littlenefs from the vaft itfelf. For
divifion muft 'be infinite as well as addition;

AND BEAUTIFUL.

109

becaufe the idea of a perfečl unity can no more
be arrived at , than that of a complete vvhole, to
vvhich nothing may be added.

S E C T. VIII.

I K F I N X X Y.

A N O T H E R fource of tlie fublime is Infinily ;
if it does not rather belong to the laft. Infinity
has a tendency to fill the mind \vith that fort of
delightful horror, which is the mod genuine
effečl, and trueft teh of the fublime. There are
fcarce any things which can become the obje 61 3
of our fenfes , that are really and in their own
nature infinite. But the eye not being able to
perceive the bounds of many things, they feem
to be infinite, and they produce the farne effečls
as if they were really fo. We are deceived in the
lilcemanner, if the parts of fome large obječl are
fo continued to any indefinite number; that the
imagination meets no check vvhich may hindet
its extending them at pleafure.

310

ON THE SUBLIME

Whenever we repeat any idea frequently, the
ttiind, by a fort of mechanifm, repeats it long
after the firft caufe has ceafed to operate *. After
whirling about, when we fit down, the objecls
about us ftill feem to whirl. After a long fucceffion
of noifes, as the fall of vvaters, or the beating of
forge-hammers, the hammers' beat and the water
roars in the imagination long after the firft founds
liave ceafed to affect it j and they die away at
laft by gradations \vhich are fcarcely perceptible.
If you hold up a ftrait pole, with your eye to
one end, it will feem extended to a length almoft
iilcredible *. Plače a number of uniform and
equidiftant marks on this pole, they will caufe the
farne deception, and feem multiplied without
end. The fenfes, ftrongly affecfed in fome one
manner, cannot quickly change their tenor, or
adapt themfelves to other things; but they continue
in their old channel until the ftrength of the firft
mover decays. This is the reafon of an appearance

* Part IV. fečt. 12.

* Part IV. feft. 14.

AND BEAUTI.FUL m

very frequent in madmen; that they remain
whole days and nights , fometimes whole years,
in the conftant repetition of lome remark, fome
complaint, or fong; which having ftruck power-
fully on their difordered imagination in the be-
ginning of their phrenzy , every repetition rein-
forces it with new ftrength ; and the hurry of
their fpirits, unreftrained by the curb of rea-
fon , continues it to the end oftheir lives.

S E C T. IX.

SUCCESSION AND UNIFORM IT f. '

SuCCESSION and uniformity  of parts are
what conftitute theartihcial infinite. l. SucceJJlori;
which is requifite that the parts may be continued
fo long and in fuch a direftion, a$ by their fre-
quent impulfes on the fenfe to imprefs the
imagination with an idea of their progrefs beyond
their actual limits. q. Uniformily ;  becaufe if the
hgures of the parts fliould be changed ,  the
imagination at every change finds a check j you

312

ON THE SUBLIME

are prefented at every alteration with the termi-
jiation of one idea, and the beginning of another;
by \vhich means it becomes impoflible to continue
that uninterrupted progreffion , which alone can
ftamp on bounded obje tis the characler of
inhnity. * It is in this hincL of artificial
inhnity, I believc , we ought to look for the
caufe why a rotund has fuch a noble effečf. For
in a rotund , ivhether it be a building or a
plantation, you can no where fix a boundary;
turn which way you will , the farne obječl Hill
feems to continue, and the imagination has no
reft. But the parts mufi: be uniform, as well as
circularly difpofed, togive this figure its full force;
becaufe any difference , ivhether it be in the
difpofition or in the figure, or even in the color
of the parts, is highly prejudicial to the idea of
infinity, which every change mufi; check and
interrupt , at every alteration commencing

* Mr, Addifon, in the Spečtators concerning the
pleafures of the imagination, thinks it is becaufe in the
rotund at one glance you fee half the building, This I
do not imagine to be the real caufe,

a

AND BEAUTIFUL.

iT3

a new feries. On the farne principles of fucceilion
and uniformitv, the grand appearance of the
ancient heathen temples, which were generally
oblong forms, with a range of uniform pillars on
every fide, will be eafily accounted for. From
the farne caufe alfo may be derived the grand
effečf of our aifles in many of our own old
'cathedrals, The form of a crofs ufed in fome
churches feems to me not fo eligible as the
parallelogram of the ancients; at leaft, I imagine it
is notfo proper for the outfide. For fuppofmg the
arms of the crofs every way equal, if you fland in
a direčlion parallel to any of the fide-walls; or
colonnades, inftead of a deception that makes the
building more extended than it is , you are cut oif
from a confiderable part ( two thirds) of its ačiual
length j and to prevent ali pofhbility of progreffion,
the arms of the crofs taking a new direčlion, make
a right atigle with the beam, and thereby wholly
turn the imagination from the repetition of the
former idea. Or fuppofe the fpečiator placed
where he may take a direčf view of fuch a
building, what \vill be the confequence? the

I

ON THE S U B L I M E

i 1%

neceffary confequence vvill be, that a good part
of the bafis of each ancle formed by the inter-
ieclion of the ar ms of the crofs, mufi be inevitably
loft; the whole muft of courfe affume a broken
unconnečled figure ; the lights muft be unequal,
here ftrong, and there weak; vvithout that noble
gradation, which the perfpečl ive always effečls on
parts difpofed uninterruptedly in a right line-'
Some or ali of thefe obječlions vvill -lie againft 6
every figure of a crofs, in vvhatever vievv you
take it. I exemplified them in the Greek crofs, in
vvhich thefe faults appear the moli ftrongly; but
they appear in fome degree in ali forts of crolfes
Indeed there is nothing more prejudicial to the
grandeur of buildings , than to abound in angles;
a fault obvious in many; and ovving to an inor-
dinate thirft for variety, vvhich, vvhenever it pre-
\rails , is fure to leave very little trne tafte.

AND BEAUTIFUL.

J  i5

S E C T. X.

MAGNITUDE IN BUIEDING.

T O the fubiime in building , greatnefs of
dimenfion feems requifite; for on a fe\v parts,
and thofe fmall, the imagination cannot rife to
any idea ofc-infmity. No greatnefs in the manner
can effectually compenfate for the want of proper
dimenfions. There is no danger of drawing men
into extravagant defigns by this rule; it carries
its own caution along vvith it. Becaufe too great
a length in buildings deftroys the purpofe of great¬
nefs , which it was intended to promote ;  the
perfpeclive will leffen it in height as it gains in
length ; and will bring it at laft to a point; turning
the whole figure into a fort of triangle, the pooreff
in its effečt of almoff any figure that can be
prefented to the eye. I have ever obferved, that
colonnades and avenues of trees of a moderate
length, were without comparifon far grander,
than wh'en they were fuffered to turn to immenfe

dihances. A true artift fliould put a generous deceit

I 2

n6 ON THE SUBLIME

on the fpečlators, and eifeči the nobleft defigns
by eafy methods. Defigns'that are vaft only by
their dimenfions , are always the fign of a common
and low imagination. No work of art can be great.
but as it deceives ; to be othervvife is the prero-
gative of nature only. A good eye \vill fix the
medium betwixt an exceffive length or height
{ for the farne objeftion lies , againft feoth), and a
Ihort or broken quantity: and perhaps it might
be afcertained to a tolerable degree of exačlnefs,
if it was my purpofe to defcend far into the
particulars of any art.

3

AND BEAUTIFUL

117

S E C T. XI.

I NFINITTf IN P1EASING OBJECTS,

JnFINITY,  though of another kind, caufes
much of our pleafure in agreeable, as well as of
our delight in fublime images. The fpring is the
pleafanteft of the feafons; and the young of moft
animals , though far from being Gompletely
faftiioned, afford a more agreeable fenfation than,
the full-grown ; becaufe the imagination is, enter-
tained with the promife of fomething more, and
does not acquiefce in the prefent obječl of the.
fenfe. In unfinifhed fketcheš of drawing, I have
often feen fomething which pleafed me beyond
the beft finilhing; and this I -believe proceeds
from the caufe I have juft now alfigned.

I 3

nS

ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. XII.

DIFFICULTY.

'A NOTHER fource of greatnefs is Difficuliy.
When any \vork feems to have required immenfe
force and labor to effect it, the idea is grand.
Stonehenge, neither for difpofition nor ornament,
has any thing admirable; but thofe huge rude
maffes of ftone, fet on end, and piled each on
other turn the mind on the immenfe force
neceffary for fuch a \vorlc. Nay, the rudenefs
of the work increafes this caufe of grandeur, as
it excludes the idea of art and contrivance ; for
dexterity produces another fort of effečt, which
is different enough from this.

* Part IV. fect. 4 , $ , 6 .

AND BEAUTIFUL.

aig

S E C T. XIII.  ■

MAGNIFICENCEi »

M AGNIFICENCE is likewife a fource of the
fublime. A great proftifion of things, which are
fplendid or valuable in themfelves, is magnificent.
The ftarry heaven , though it occurs fo very
frequently to our view , never fails to excite an
idea of grandeur. This cannot be orving to any
thing in the flars themfelves, feparately confidered.
The number is certainly the caufe. The apparent _
•diforder augments the grandeur, for the appear-
ance of čare is highly contrarv to our ideas of
magnificence. Befides , tlie fiars lie in fuch
apparent confufion, as makes it impoffible on
ordinary occafions to reckon them. This gives
thern the advantage of a fort of infinity. In works
of art,  this kind of grandeur, which confifts in
multitude , is to be very cautio'ufly admitted;
becaufe a profufion of excellent things is not
to be attained , or with too much difficulty j
and becaufe in many cafes this fplendid
confufion would deftroy ali ufe , \vhich.

U

120 ON THE SUBLIME

fhould be attended to in moft of the vvorks of art
vv-ith the greateft čare 5 befides it is to be confidered,
that unlefs you can produce an appearance of
inftnity by your diforder, you \vill have diforder
only vvithout magnificence. There are , hovvever ,
a fort of fire-works, and fome other things, that
in this way fucceed vvell, and are truly grand.
There are alfo many defcriptions in the poets
and orators, which ovve their fublimity to a
richnefs and profufipn of images, in which the
rmnd is fo dazzled as to make it impoffible to
attend to that exačt coherence and agreement of
the allulions, vvhich we fhould require on every
other occahon. I do not now remember a more
flriking example of this , than the defcription
\vhich is given of the king's arniy in the play of
Henry the Fourth:

Ali furnijh'd, ali in arms.

Ali phan d lihe ojlriches that with the wind
Baited like eagles having lat el') bathed:

As full of fpirit as the month of May  ,

And gorgcous as the fun at midfummer ,

Wanton as yoiithful goats , wild as young bulls.
I faw young Harry ,—with his beaver on ,

AND BEAUTIFUL;

121

' Rije from tke gronnd like featherd Mercitry ;

And vaulted with fuch eafe into kis Jeat,

As if an angel dropt down from tke clouds
To turn and vvind a jiery Pegafus.

In that excellent book fo remarkable for tihe
vivacity of its defcriptions, as well as the folidity
and penetration of its fentences, the Wifdom of
the fon of Sirach, there is a noble panegyric on
the high prieft Simon the fon of Onias; and it is
a very fine example of the point before us:

How was he honored in the midjl of the people,
in kis coming out of the fantliiary ! He was as tke
morning fiar h z® the midjl of a cloud , and as the
mo on at the Juli; as the Jun fhining up on the temple
of the Mof Pligh  , and as the rainhow giving light
in the hright clouds-. and as the flovver of rofes in
the fpring of the year, as lilies by the rivers of
tv a ter s , and as the franhincenfe-trce in fummer; as
fr e and incenfe in the cenfer, and as a veffel oj
go Id fet with precious fones; as a fair olive-tree
budding forth fruit , and as a cyprefs vvhich grovveth
up to the clouds. When he p ut on the robe of honor ,
and was clothed with the perfečlion of glory , when
he went up to the holy alt ar , he made the

3  22

ON THE SUBLIME

garment oj holinefs honorable. He himfelf Jlood by
the hearth of tlie alt ar , compajfed with his brethren
round about; as a young cedar in Libam/s , and as
palm-trees compajjed they /rim about. So vrere ali
the fons of Aaron in their glory , and the oblations
of the Lord in their hands , dre.

S E C T. XIV.

X I G H T,

HaVING  confidered extenfion, fo far as it
is capable of raifing ideas of greatnefs; color  comes
next under confideration. Ali «olors depend on
light.  Light therefore ought previoufly to be
examined; and with it its oppofite, darknefs.
AVith regard to ligbt, to make it a caufe capable
of producing the fublime f  it miift be attended
with fome circumflances, befides its bare faculty
of fho\ving other objeds. Mere light is too coni-
mon a tliing to make a ftrong impreffion on tlie
mind, and without a ftrong imprelfion nothing
ean be fublime. But fuch a light as that of the
fun , immediately exerted on the eye , as if

AND BEAUTIFUL.

123

overpoivers the fenfe, is a very great idea. Light
of an inferior ftrength to this, if it moves with
great celerity, has the farne power ;  for lightning
is certainly produčtive of grandeur, which it owes
chiefly to the extreme ve!ocity of its motion. A
quick tranfition from light to darknefs, or from
darknefs to light, has yet a greater eflecl.' But
darknefs is more produCtive of fubiime ideas than
light. Our great poet was convinced of this; and
indeed fo full was he of this idea, fo entirely
polfelfed with the power of a well-managed dark¬
nefs , that in defcribing the appearance of the
Deity, amidft that profufion of magnificent images
rvhich the grandeur of his fubjedf provokes him
to pour out upon every fide , he is far from
forgetting the obfcurity which furrounds the mofk
incomprehenfible of ali beings, but

■ —  With the maje/Jy of  darknefs round
Circles his t/trone.

And what is no lefs remarkable, our author had
the fecret of preferving this idea, even when he
feemed to depart the farthefl from it, when he

124

ON THE SUBLIME

defcribes the light and glory which flows from
the divine prefence $ a light which by its very
excefs is converted into a fpecies of darknefs.

Dark wlth exc.ejjive light thy Jkirts oppear.

Here is an idea not only poetical in a high
degree , but ftričtly and philofophically juft.
Extreme light, by overcoming the organs of fight,
obliterates ali obječts, fo as in its effeffc exačlly to
refemble darknefs. After looking for fome time
at the fun, two black fpots, the impreflion which
it leaves, feem to dance before 'our eyes. Thus
are two ideas as oppofite as can be imagined
reconciled in the extremes of both; and both
in fpite of their oppofite nature brought to concur
in producmg the fublime; And this is not the
only inftance wherein the oppofite extremes
operate equally in favor of the fublime, which in
ali things abhors mediocrity.

AND BEAUTIFUL.

iq5

S E C T. XV. •

LIGHT IN BUILDING.

.A S the management of light is a matter of
importance in architečlure, it is worth inquiring,
how far this remark is applicable to building. I
think then , that ali edifices calculated to produce
an idea of the fublime, ought rather to be dark
and gloomy, and this for two reafons; the firft
is, that darknefs itfelf on other occafions is knovvn
by experience to have a greater effečl on the
paflions than light. The fecond is, that to make
an objeft very ftriking , we ihould make it . as
dilferent as polhble from the obječls with which
we have been immediately converfant; when
therefore you enter a building , you cannot
pafs into a greater light than you had in the open
air ;  to go into one fome few degrees lefs luminous,
can make only a trifling changej but to make
the tranfition thoroughly ftriking, you ought to pafs
from the greateft light, to asmuch darknefs as is

iq6 ON THE SUBLIME

confiftent with the ufes of architefture. At night
the contrary rule will liold, but for the verv
Jame.reafon,' and the more highly a room is then
illuminated, the grander will the paffion be.

S E C T XVI,

COLOR CONSIDERED AS PRODUCTIVE
OF THE SUBLIME.

.A M O N G colors, fuch as are foft or chearful
(except perhaps a ftrong red wliich is chearful)
are unfit to produce grand images. • An immenfe
mountain covered with a lliining green turf, is
notliing, in this refpeft, to one dark and gloomy;
the cloudy fky is more grand than the blue; and
night. more fublime and folemn than day. There-
fore in hiftorical painting, a gay or gaudy drapery
can never have a happy eifect: and in buildings,
\vhen the higheft degree ofthe fublime is intended,
the materials and ornaments ought neither to be
white, nor green , nor yellow, nor blue, nor of
apalered, nor violet, nor fpotted, butoffadand
fufcous colors, as black, or brown 5  or deep purple,

AND BEAUTIFUL. x a?

and the like. Much of gilding, mofaics, painting,
or ftatues, contribute but little to the fublime.
This rule need not be put in pračlice, except
where an uniform degree of the moli liriki ng
fublimity is to be produced, and that in every
particular; for it ought to be obferved, that this
melancholy kind ofgreatnefs, though it be cer-
tainly.the higheft, ought not to be lludied in ali
forts of edifices, where yet grandeur mufi be
lludied in fuch cafes the lublimity mufi be dra\vn
from the other lources; with a liriki caution
however, againft any thing light and riant; as
nothing fo elfe(flually deadens the vvhole talle of
the fublime.

taS ON THE S U B L I M E

S E C T. XVII,

SOUND AND L O U D N E S S.

Tl  H E eye is not the only organ of fenfation,
by which a fublime paffion may be produced.
Sounds have a great power in thefe as in moli
other palfions. I do not mean words, b.ecaufe
words do not affečl fimply by their founds, but
by means altogether different. Exceflive loudnefs
alone is fufficient to overpower the foul , to
fufpend its aftion , and to fill it with terror. The
noife of vali cataračls, raging ftorms , thunder ,
or artillery, awakes a great and awful fenfation
in the mind, though we can obferve no nicety or
artifice in thofe forts of mufic. The Ihoutins of
mnltitudes has a fimilar effečl; and, by the fole
ftrength of the found, fo amazes and confounds
the imagination, that, in this llaggering, and
hurry of the mind, the beli eftabliilied tempers
can fcarcely forbear being borne down, and joinlng
in the common cry 2  and common refolution of
the crowd,

S E C T.

AND BEAUTIFUL.

129

S E C T. XVIII.

SUDDENNESS.

A. Sudden beginning, or fudden celfation of*
found of any confiderable force, has the farne
povver. The attention is roufed by this; and the
faculties dri ve n forward, as it were, on their
guard. Whatever either in fights or founds ma-
kes the tranfition from one extreme to the other
eafy, caufes no terror, and confequeutly can be
no caufe of greatnefs. In every thing fudderi
and unexpe£ted , we are apt to ftart: that is, we'
have a perception of danger, and cur nature
roufes us to guard againft it. It may be obferved
that a lingie found of fome ftrength, though
but of ihort duration, if repeated after intervals,
has a grand effečh Few tliings are more awful than
the ftrildng of a great clock, when the filence of
the night prevents the attention from being too
much diffipated. The farne may be faid of a frngle
ftroke on a d rum , repeated vvith paufes 5 and of
dre fucceffive firing of cannon at a diftance. Ali
the effefts mentioned in this fečlion have caufes
very neariy alike.

K

i3o  ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. XIX,

INTERMITTING,

A Low , tremulous , intermitting found %
though it feems in fome refpečls oppofite to that
juft meijtioned, is produčiive of the fublime. It
is worth while to examine this a little. The fact
itfelf muft be determined by every man’s own
experience and refiečtion. I have already obfer-
ved, that * night increafes our terror, more
perhaps than any thing elfe ;  it is our nature ,
ivhen we do not laiow what may happen to us,
to fear the vvorft that can happen; and hence it
is, that uncertainty is fo terrible, that we often
feek to be rid of it, at the hazard of a certain
mifchief. Now , fome low , confufed, uncertain
founds leave us in the farne fearful anxiety con-
Cerning their caufes, that no light, or an uncertain
light, does concerning the obječls that furround us-

Oj jak, per incertam lunam Juh luce maligna
E/l iler in fylvis. -

* Sed. j.

AND BEAUTIFUL

i3i

——— Afaint /hadow of uncertain light,

Like as a lamp , whofe Ufe doth jade away ;

Or as ihe moon clothed with cloudy night
Doth j7iow to him who vvalks infear andgreat affright,

Spenser.

But a light now appearing, and now leaving us,
and fo off and on, is even more terrible than
total darknefs: and a fort of uncertain founds are,
when the neceflary difpofitions concur , more
alarming than a total filence.

S E C T. XX.

THE CRIES OF AKIMALS.

S U C H founds as imitate the natural inarticulate
voiceš of men, or any animals in pain or danger,
are capable of eonveying great ideas; unlefs it be
the well-known voice of fome creature, on vvhich
we are ufed to look with contempt. The angry
toneš of wild beafts are equally capable of caufing
a great and avvful fenfation.

Hinc exaudiri gemitus , ireque leonum
Vincla recujanturn , etjera fub notic rudentum;

K a

ON THE SUBLIME

»32

Setigerique fues , atque in prafepibus urfi

Sevire; et forma magnorum ululare luporum.

It might feem that thele modulations of founcl
carry fome connexion vvith the nature of the
things they reprefent, and are not merely arbi-
trary; becaufe the natural cries of ali animals,
even of thofe animals with wliom we have not
been acquainted, never fail to make themfelves
fufficiently underftood ; this cannot be faid of
language. The modifications of found which may
be produftive of the fublime, are almoft infinite.
Thofe I have mentioned, are only a few inflances
to fliow, on vvhat principles they are ali built,

AND B E A U T I F U L.

iS5

S E C T. XXI.

SMELI AND TASTE. BITTEES
AND STENCHES.

S M E L L S, and Tajles , have lome fhare to®
in ideas of greatnefs; but it is a fmall one, \veai
in its nature, and confined in its operations. I
fliall only obferve, that no fmells or taftes can
produce a grand fenfation, except exceffive bitters,
and intolerable flenches. It is true , that. thefe
affedlions of the fmell and tafle , when they are
in their full force, and lean direclly upon the
fenfory, are fimply painful, and accompanied
vvith no fort of delight; but when they are mode-
rated, as in a defcription or narrative, they
become fources of the fublime, as genuine as any
othet, and upon the very farne principle of a
moderated pain. “ A cup of bitternefs; ” “ to
“ drain the bitter cup of fortune; ” “ the bitter
“ apples of Sodom; ” thefe are ali ideas fuitable
to a fublime defcription. Nor is this paffage of
Virgil without fublimity , where the flench of
the vapor in Albunea confpires fo happily \vitlr

K 3

i3 4  ON THE S U B L I M E

the facred horror and gloominefs of that prophetic
foreft:

At rex folicitus monjlns , oracula Fauni
Fatidicigenitoris , adit , lucofque fub alta
Confulit Aibunea , nemorum qu<z maxima facro
Fonte Jonat , faevamque exhalat opaca Mephitirn.

In the fixth book, and in a very fublime defcrip-
tion, the poifonous exhalation of Acheron is not
forgot, nor does it at ali difagree with the other
images amongft which it is introduced:

Spelunca  alta fuit,  vafloque immanis klatil ,
Scn/pea, tula  lacu nigro nemorumque  tenebris,
Chiam fttper haud ulica poterant impune volanies
Tendere iler pennis , tališ fefe halitus atris
Faucibus effundens fupera ad convexa ferebat.

I have added thefe examples , becaufe fome-
friends , for whofe judgment I have great defe-
renče, \vere of opinion, that if the fentiment
ftood nakedly by itfelf, it vvould be fubječt, at
firft view, to burlefque and ridicule; but this I
imagine would principally arife from confidering
the bitternefs and ftench in company with mean
and contemptible ideas , with which it muft
be owned they are often united; fucli an unioA

AND BEAUTIFUL. i3 5

demrades the fublime in ali other inflances as vvell

O

as in thofe. But it is one of the tefls by vvhich
the fublimity of an image is to be tried , not
vvhether it becomes mean when alTociated with
mean ideas ; but vvhether , vvhen united with
images of an allovved grandeur , the vvhole com-
pofition is fupported vvith dignity. Things which
are terrible are alvvays great; but vvhen things
poffefs difagreeable qualities , or fuch as have
indeed fome degree of dapger, but of a danger
eafily overcoine, thev are merely odious , as toads
and fpiders.

S E C T. XXII.

FEELING. P A I N.

O F Feeling , little more can be faid than that
the idea of bodily pain, in ali the modes and
degrees of labor , pain, anguifh , torment , is
produ 6 live of the fublime 5  and nothing elfe in
this fenfe can produce it. I need not give here

K 4

i36 ON THE SUBLIME &c.

any frefli inftances, as thofe given in the former
p'  fcčtions abundantly illuflrate a r e mark ; that in
reality wants only an attention to nature, to be
made by every body.

Having thus run through the caufes of the
fublime with reference to ali the fenfes, my firft
pbfervation ( fečh 7,) will be found very nearly
true; that the fublime is an idea belonging to
felf-prefervation; that it is therefore one of the
moft affefting we have; that its ftrongeft emotion
is an emotion of diftrefs; and that no *  pleafure
ffom a pofitive caufe belongs to it. Numberlefs
examples; befides thofe mentioned, might be
brought in fupport of thefe truths, and many
perhaps ufeful confequences drawn from them—

Sedfugit interea , fugit irrevocabile tempus  ,

Singula dum capti clrcumveclamur amore.

* Vide part I. ftd. 6.

THE END OF THE SECOND PAKT.

A

PHILOSO PHI CAL INQ,UIRY

I N T O THE

ORIGIN OF 0 U JI ID E AS

O F THE

SUB LIME AND BEAUTIFUL,

PART III.

S E C T. I.

OF Ji E A U T Y.

IT is my defign to confider beauty as diftin-
guifhed from the fublime ;  and, in the courfe of
the inquiry, to examine how far it is confiftent
with it. But previous to this, \ve muft take a
fhort review of the opinions already entertained
of this quality; which I think are hardly to be
reduced to any fixed principles ;  becaufe men
are ufed to talk of beauty in a figurative manner,
that is to fay, in a manner extremely uncertain.

• i3S

ON THE S U B L I M E

and indeterminate. By beauty I mean that quality,
or thofe qualities in bodies, by vvhich they caufe
love , or fome paffion fimilar to it. I confine this
definition to the merely fenlible qualities of
things, 'for the fake of preferving the utmofl
fimplicity in a fubjedt which mufi always diftračl
us, whenever we take in thofe various caufes of
fympathy which attach us to any perfons or
things from fecondary conhderations, and not
from the direft force which they have merelv
on being viewed. I likewife diftinguifh love, by
Avhich I mean that fatisfačlion which arifes to the
mind upon eontemplating any thing beautiful,
of watfoever nature it may be, from defire orduft ;
which is an energy of the mind, that hurries us
on to the polfeiTion of certain obječts, that do
not aftečl us as they are beautiful, but by means
altogether different. We fliall have a flrong defire
for a woman of no remarkable beauty; whilft the
greateft beauty in men, or in other animals ,
though it caufes love, yet excites nothing at ali
of defire. Which fhows that beauty, and the
paffion caufed by beauty, which I call love, is

AND BEAUTIFUL. i3q

different from defire, though defire may fome-
times operate along with it; but it is to this
latter that we mufi attribute tliofe violent and
tempeftuous paffions, and the confequent emotions
of the body which attend \vhat is called love
in fome of its ordinary acceptions, and not to
the effečls of beauty mere]y as it is fuch.

S E C T. II.

PROPORTION NOT THE CAUSE OF BEAUTY IFT
VEGETABLES.

13 EAUT  Y hath ufually been faid to confift
in certain proportions of parts. On confidering
the matter,! have greatreafon to doubt, \vhether
beauty be at ali an idea belonging to proportion.
Proportion relates almoll \vholly to convenience,
as every idea of order feems to do 5  and it mufi
therefore be confidered as a creature of the
underflanding, rather than as a primary caufe aCting
on the fenfes and imagination. It is not by the
force of long attention and inquiry that we find
any objecl to be beautiful; beauty demands no

ON  THE SUBLIME

140

afiiftance fr o m our reafoning; even the will is
unconcerned; the appearance of beauty as
effečlually caufes fome degree of love in us, as
the application of ice or fire produces the ideas
of heat or cold. To gain fomething like a fatis-
lactory conelufion in this point, it were well to
examine, what proportion is ;  fince feveral who
make ufe of that word, do not always feem to
underftand very clearly the force of the term,
nor to have very diftinčl ideas concerning the
thing itfelf. Proportion is the meafure of relative
quantity. Since ali quantity is divifible, it is
evident that every diflinbf part into which any
quantity is divided, mufi bear fome relation to
the other parts , or to the whole. Thefe relations
give an origin to the idea of proportion. They
are difcovered by menfuration, and they are the
obječls of mathematical inquiry. Rut whe-ther
any part ofany determinate quantity be a fourth,
or a fifth, or a fixth, or moiety of the vvhole;
or whether it be of equal length with any other
part, or double its length, or but one half, is
a matter merely indifferent to the mind; it flands
neuter in the queftion; and it is from this

AND BEAUTIFUL

Mi

abfolute indifference and tranquillity of the mind,
that mathematical fpeculations derive fome of their
moft confiderable advantages; becaufe there is
nothing to intereft the imagination ; becaufe the
judgment fits free and unbiaffed to examine the
point. Ali proportions, every arrangement of
quantity is alike to the underftanding, becauf®
the farne truths refult to it from ali; from greater,
from lelfer, from equality and inequality. But
furely beauty is no idea belonging to menfuration;
nor has it any thing to do with calculation and
geometry. If it had, ws might then point out
fome certain meafures which we coukl demonllrate
to be beautiful, either as ftmply confidered, or
as related to others; and we could call in thofe
natural objefts, for whofe beauty we have no
voucher but the fenfe, to this happy fiandard ,
and confirm the voice of our paffions by the
determination of our reafon. But fmce we have
not this help,let us fee whether proportion can
in any fenfe be confidered as the eaufe of beauty,
as hath been fo generally, and by fome fo con-
fidently affirmed. If proportion be one of the

ON THE SUBLIME

14.2

conftituents of beauty, it mufi derive that power
either from fome natural properties inlierent in
certain meafures, which operate mechanically;
from the operation of cuftom; or from the fitnefs
vvhich fome meafures have to anfvver fome
particular ends of conveniency. Our bufmefs
•therefore is tdinsquire, \vhether the parts of thofe
obječis, which are found beautiful in the vegeta-
ble or animal kingdoms, are conftantiy fo formed
according to fuch certain meafures, as may ferve
to fatisfy us that their beauty refults from thofe
meafures , on the principle of a natural mechanical
caufe j or from cuftom ■ or , in fine, from their
fitnefs for any determinate purpofes. I intend to
examine this point under each of thefe heads in
their order. But before I proceed further, I hope
it will not be thought amifs, if I lay down the
rules which governed me in this inquiry, and
which have mifled me in it, if I have gone
aftray. 1. If two bodies produce the farne or a
limilar efiecft on the mind, and on examination
they are found to agreein fome of their properties,
and to cliffer in others; the common effeČl is to
be attributed to the properties in which they

AND BEAUTIFUL.

agrec, and not to thofe in which they differ.
2. Not to accountfor the effečt of a natural objecft
from the effečl of an artifkial objeft. 3. Not to
account for the effečt of any natural obječl from
a conclufion of our reafon concerning its ufes, if
a natural caufe may be afiigned. 4. Not to admit
any determinate quantity, or any relation of
quantity, as the caufe of a certain effečt, if the
effečt is produced by different or oppofite
meafures and relations; or if thefe meafures and
relations may exift, and yet the effečt may not
be produced. Thefe are the rules vvhich I have
chiefiy followed, whilft I examined into the
power of proportion confidered as a natural
caufe; and thefe, if he thinks themjufl, I requelf
the reader to carry with him throughout the
following difcullion ■  whilft we inquire in the
firft plače, in what things we find this quality
of beauty ;  next , to fee vvhether in thefe
we can find any affignable proportions , in
fuch a manner as ought to convince us that
our idea of beauty refults from them. We
fhall confider this pleafing power , as it
appears in vegetables , in the inferior animals,

ON THE SUBLIME

144

and in man. Turning our eyes to the vege-
tabie creation , \ve find nothing there fo
beautiful as llovvers; but flowers are almoft of
every fort of lliape , and of every fort of
difpofition; they are turned and faihioned into
an miinite variety of forms ;  and from thefe
forrns, botanifts have given them their names,
which are almoft as various. What proportion
do we difcover betvveen the ftalks and the lea¬
ves of flowers, or betvveen the leaves and the
piftils? How does the flender ftalk of the rofe
agree with the bulky head under \vhich it bends ?
but the rofe is a beautiful flowerj and can we
tmdertake to fay that it does not o\ve a great
deal of its beauty even to that difproportion ? the
rofe is a large fiower, yet it grows upon a fmall
flirub; the 'fiower of the apple is very fmall, and
grovvs upon a large tree; yet the rofe and the
apple hlodom are both beautiful, and the plants
that bear them are moft engagingly attired,
notwithftanding this difproportion. What by
General confent is allowed to be a more beautiful

O

obječl than an orange-tree, flourilhing at once

tvith its leaves, its bloffoms, and its fruit? but

it

AND BEAUTIFUL 145

it is in vain that we fearch here for any proportion
betvveen the height, the breadth, or any thing
elfe concerning the dimenfions of the whole , or
concerning the relation of the particular parts to
each other. I grant that we may obferve in many
flowers, fomething of a regular figure, and of a
methodical difpofition of the leaves. The rofe
has fuch a figure and fuch a difpofition of its
petals5 but in an oblique view, when this figure
is in a good meafure loft, and the order of the
leaves confounded, it yet retains its beauty; the
rofe is even more beautiful before it is full blovvnj
and the bud, before this exačl figure js formed;
and this is not the only inftance wherein method
and exadtnefs, the foul of proportion, are found
rather prejudicial than ferviceable to the capfe
of beauty.

L

l 4 6 ON THE S U B L I M E
S E C T. I I I.

fROPORTION NOT THE CAUSE OF BEAUTY IN
ANIMALS.

T HAT proportion has but a fmall fliare in the
formation of beauty, is full. as evident among
animals. Here the greateft variety of fhapes, and
difpofttions of parts, are well fttted to excite this
idea. The fwan, confeffedly a beautifui bird,
has a neck longer than the reft of his body, and
but a very fhorttail: is this a beautifui proportion?
\ve mufi allow that it is. But then what fliall we
fay to the peacock, who has comparatively but
a fliort neck, with a tail longer than the neck
and the reft of the body taken together? How
many birds are there that vary inhnitely from
each of thefe ftandards, and from every other
which you can fix , with proportions different,
and often direolly oppofite to each other! and
yet many of thefe birds are extremely beautifui;
when upon confidering them we find nothing in
any one part that might determine us, a priori ,
to fay what the others ought to be, nor indeed

and beautiful.

H7

to guefs any thing about them, but what experi-
ence might lhorv to be full of difappointmenc
and miftake. And with regard to the colors either
of birds or flovvers, for there is fomething fimilaij
in the coloring of both, whether they are
confidered in their extenfion or gradation , there
is nothing of proportion to be obferved. Som®
are of but one fmgle color; others have ali the
colors of the rainbow; fome are of the primary
colors, others are of the mixt; in fhort 5  an
attentive obferver may foon conclude, that there
is as little of proportion in the coloring as in
the lliapes of thefe obječls. Turn next to beafls;
examine the head of a beautiful horfe; find what
proportion that bears to his body, and to his
limbs, and what relations thefe have to each
other; and vvhen you have fettled thefe proportions
as a ftandird of beauty, then take a dog or cat,
or any other animal, and examine how far the
farne proportions between their heads and their
neck, betrveen thofe and the bodv, and fo on,
are found to hold; I think we may fafely fay,
that they differ in every fpecies, yet that there

L 2

a 4 8 ON THE S U B L I M E

are individuals found in a great many fpecies fo
differing, that have a very ftriking beauty. Now,
if it be allovved that very different, and even
contrary, forms and difpofitions are confiftent
with beauty it amounts, I believe.toa concef-
fion, that no certain meafures operating from a
natural principle, are neceffary to produce it, at
leaft fo far as the brute fpecies is concerned.

S E C T. I V.

PROPORTION NOT THE CAUSE OF BEAUTT IN
THE HUMAN SPECIES. V --

T

1 HERE are fome parts of the human body,
that are obferved to hold certain proportions to
each other; but before it can be proved, that
the efficient caufe of beauty lies in thefe, it mufi
be fhovvn, that wherever thefe are found exa<R,
the perfon to whom they belong is beautiful: I
mean in the efFecl produced on the view, either
of any member cliftinctly confidered, or of the
whole bodv together. It muft be likewife fhown,
that thefe parts ftand in fuch a relation to each

AND BEAUTIFUL

149

other, that the comparifon between them may
be eafily made, and that the affečiion of the
mind may naturally refult from it. For my part,
I have at feveral times very carefully examined
many of thofe prpportions, and found them hold
very nearly, or altogether alilce in many fubječls,
which were not only very different from one
another, but where one has been very beautiful,
afttl the other very remote from beauty. With
regard to the parts \ : vhich are found fo propor-
tioned, they are often fo remote from each other,
in fituation, nature, and office, that I cannot
fee liow they admit of any comparifon, nor
Confequently how any effcct owing to proportion
can refult from them. The ne ek, fay they, in
beautiful bodies, fliould meafure with the calf
of the les; it Ihould liketvife be twice the cir-
cumference of the wrift. And an infinity of
obfervations of this kind are to be found in
the rvritings and converfations of many. But
what relation has the calf of the leg to the
neck; or either of thefe parts to the wrifl? Thefa
proportions are certainly to be found ia
handfome bodies. They are as certainly ia

L 3

i5o ON THE SUBLIME

ugly ones;.as any vvho will take the pains to
try may find. Nay, I do not know but they
may be leaft perfečt in fome of the moft beautiful.
You may affign any proportions you pleafe to
every part of the human body; and I undertake
that a painter fhall religioufly obferve them ali,
and notwithftanding produce, if he pleafes, a
very ugly figure. The farne painter fliall confider-
ably deviate frorn thefe proportions, and produce
a very beautiful one. And indeed it may be
obferved in the mafler-pieces of the ancient and
modern flatuary, that feveral of them differ very
widely from tlie proportions of others, in parts
very confpicuous , and of great confideration ;
and that tliey differ no lefs from the proportions
we find in living men, of forms extremely ftriking
and agreeable. And after ali, how are the parti-
fans of proportional beauty agreed amongfl thern-
felves about the proportions of the human body?
fome hold it to be feven heads ■  fome make it
eight; vvhilft others extend it even to ten; a vaft
difference in fuch a fmall number of divifions!
Others take other methods of eflimating the

AND BEAUTIFUL.

13 *

•proportions, and ali with equal fuccefs. But
are thefe proportions exačtly the farne in ali
handfome men P or are they at ali the proportions
found in beautiful women ? nobody will fay that
they are; yet both fexes are undoubtedly capable
of beauty, and the female of the greateft; which
advantage I believe vvill hardly be attributed to
the fuperior exačtnefs of proportion in the fair
fex. Let us reft a moment on this point; and
confider how much difference there is between
the meafures that prevail in many ftmilar parts
of the body, in the two fexes of this fingle fpecies
only. If you aflign any determinate proportions
to the limbs of a man, and if you limit human
beauty to thefe proportions , when you find a
woman who differs in the make and meafures of
almoft every part, you muft conclude her not
to be beautiful, in fpite of the fuggeftions ofyour
imagination; or, in obedience to your imagina-
tion, you muft renounce your rules ; you muft
]ay by the fcale and compafs, and look out for
fome other caufe of beauty. For if beauty be
attached to certain meafures vvbich operate from

L*

355 ON THE SUBLIME

3  principle in nature,  why iliould fimilar parts
vvith different meafures of proportion be found
to have beauty, and this too in the very farne
fpecies ? but to open our view a little , it is worth
obferving, that alinoft ali animals have parts of
very much the lame nature, and deflined nearly
to the farne purpofes; a-head, neck, body, feet,
eyes, ears, nofe , and mouth ; yet Providence, to
provide in rhe beft manner for their feveral vvants,
and to difplay the riches of his vvifdom and good-
nefs in his creation , has vvorked out of thefe fevv
and fimilar organs , and members, a diverfity
hardly iliort of infinite in their difpofition, mea¬
fures , and relation. But , as we have hefore
obferved, amidft this infinite diverfity, one par-
ticular is common to many fpecies ; feveral of
the individuals which compofe them are capable
of affečling us vvith a fenfe of lovelinefs ;  and
whilft they agre,e in producing this effecl, they
dilfer extremely in the relative meafures of thofe
parts vvhich have produced it, Thefe confidera-
tions vvere fufficient to induce me to rejefl the
notion of any particular proportions that ope-
rated by nature to produce a pleafing effečl;

AND BEAUTIFUL.

J 33

bat thafe who will agree with me with regard
to a particular proportion, are ftrongly prepof-
fe/Ted in favor of one more indefinite. They
imagine , that although beauty in general is an~
nexed to no eertain meafures comraon to the
feveral kinds of pleafing plants and animals; yet
that there is a eertain proportion in each fpecies
abfolutely effential to the beauty of that par¬
ticular kind. If \ve conhder the animal vvorld
in general, we find beauty conhned to no cer-
tain mealures; but as fome peculiar meafure
and relation of parts is what diftinguilhes each
peculiar clafs of animals, it muft of neceflity
be, that the beautiful in each kind will be
found in the meafures and proportions of that
kind; for othenvife it \vould deviate from its
proper fpecies, and become in fome fort mon-
ftrous: however, no fpecies is fo ftrictly con-
fined to any eertain proportions, that there is
not a confiderable variation amongft the indivi-
duals: and as it has been fhown of the human,
fo it may be fhown of the brute kinds ?
that beauty is found indifferently in ali
the proportions which each kind can admit s

154 ON  THE S U B L I M E

\vithout quitting its common form ; and it is
this idea of a common form that makes the
proportion of parts at ali regarded , and not
the operation of any natural caufe : indeed a
little confideration will make it appear, that it
is not meafure but manner that creates ali the
beauty which belongs to Ihape. What light do
we borrow from thefe boafted proportions ,
when we ftudy ornamental defign ? It feems
amazing to me, that artifts, if they were as
well convinced as they pretend to be, that pro¬
portion is a principal caufe of beauty, have not
by them at ali times accurate meafurements of
ali forts of beautiful animals to help them to
proper proportions, when they would contrive
any thing elegant, efpecially as they frequently
affert, that it is from an obfervation of the
beautiful in nature they direcl their praOtice. 1
lcnow that it has been faid long fince, and
echoed backvvard and forward from one writer
to another a thoufand times, that the propor¬
tions of building have been taken from thofe
of the human body. To make this forced analogy
Complete, they reprefent a man with his arms

AND BEAUTIFUL.

'i55

raifed and extended at full length , and then
defcribe a fort of fquare , as it is formed by
pafling lines along the extremities of this ftrange
figure. But it appears very clearly to me, that
the human figure never fupplied the architeft
with any of his ideas. For in the firft plače,
men are very rarely feen in this ftrained pof-
ture ;  it is not natural to them ; neither is it
at ali becoming. Secondly , the view of the
human figure fo difpofed , does not naturally
fuggeft the idea of a fquare, but rather of a
crofs ; as that large fpace between the arms
and the ground , mufi be filled with fomething
before it can make any body think of a
fquare. Thirdly, feveral buildings are by no
means of the form of that particular fquare,
which are notwithflanding planned by the beft
architečls, and produce an effečf altogether as
good, and perhaps a better. And certainly nothing
could be more unaccountably vvhimfical, than
for an architečl to model his performance by the
human figure , fince no two things can have
lefs refemblance or analogy, than a man, and
a houfe or temple : do we need to obferve.

156

ON THE SUBLIME

that their purpofes are entirely diJTerent ? What
I am apt to fufpečl is this: that thefe-analogies
\vere devifed to give a credit to the works of art,
by fhovving a conformity between them and the
nobleft works in nature; not that the latter ferved
at ali to fupply hints for the perfečlion of the
former. And I am the more fully convinced, that
the patrons of proportion have transferred their
artihcial ideas to nature, and not borrowed from
thence the proportions they ufe in works of art;
becaufe inany dilcuihon of this fubječl they always
quit as foon as polhble the open field of natural
beauties, the animal and vegetable kingdoms, and
fortify themfelves vvithin the artihcial iines and an-
gles of architečlure. For there is in mankind an unfor-
tunate propenhty to make themfelves, their vievvs,
and their works, the meafure of excellence in every
thing vvhatfoever. Therefore having obferved that
their dvvellings \vere moft commodio.us and hrm
when they were throvvn into regular figures, vvith
parts anfwerable to each other; they transferred
thefe ideas to their gardens ■  they turned their trees
into pillars, pyramids, and obelifks; they formed
their hedges into fo many green walls, and fa-
faioned the vvalks into fcjuares, triangles, and

AND BEAUTIFUL

13 /

other mathematical figures, with exachrefs and
fymmetry and they thought, if they were not
imitating, they were at leaft improving nature,
and teaching her to tnow her bufmefs. But
nature has at laft efeaped from their difcipline
and their fetters; and our gardens , if nothing
elfe, declare, we begin to feel that mathematical
ideas are not the true meafures of beauty. And
furely they are full as little fo in the animal, as
the vegetable world. For is it not extraordinary,
that in thefe line defcriptive pieces, thefe innu*
merable odes and elegies which are in the mouths
of ali the world, and many of vvhich have been
the entertainment of ages , that in thefe pieces
which defcribe love with fuch apafhonate' energy,
and reprefent its obj ečt in fuch an infinite variety
of lights , not one word is faid of proportion, if
it be, what fome innfl it is. the principal com-
ponent of beauty; vvhilft at the farne time, feveral
other qnalities are very frequently and warmly
mentioned P But if proportion has not thisporver,
it may appear odd how men came originally to
be fo prepoffeffed in its favor. It arofe , I imagine.

n58 ON THE SUB L IME

from the fondnefs I have juft mentioned, which
xnen bear fo remarkably to their own works and
notions ; it arofe from falfe reafonings on the effečts
of the cuftomary figure of animals; it arofe from
the Platonic theory of fitnefs and aptitude. For
which reafon, in the next feelion, I fhall confider
the effečts of cuftom in tlie figure of animals; and
aftervvards the idea of fitnefs: fince if proportion
tloes not operate by a natural povver attending
forne meafures, it mufi be either by cuftom ,  or
tile idea of utility , there is no other way.

AND B E A U T I F U L, i5g

S E C T. V.

PROPORTION PURTHER CONSIDERED.

If  I am not miftaken, a great deal of the pre-
judice in favor of proportion has arifen, not fo
much from the obfervation of any certain meafures
found in beautiful bodies, as from a wrong idea
of the relation which deformity bears to beauty,
to which it has been conhdered as the oppofttej
on this principle it was concluded, tliat where
the caufes of deformity were removed ,  beauty
muft naturally and neceffarily be introduced, •
This I believe is a miflake. kor deformity  is
oppofed not to beauty, but to the complete ,
common form,  If one of the legs of a man be
found fliorter than the other, the man is de-
formed, becaufe there is fomething wanting to
complete the whole idea we form of a man ;
and this has the farne effeft in natural fauits 3
as maiming and mutilation produce from acci-
dents. So if the back be humped, the man
is deformed; becaufe his back has an unufual
figure, and what carries with it the idea of fome

iGo ON THE S 'U B L I M E

difeafe or mlsfortune; fo if a man’s rieck be con-
ftderably longer or fhorter than ufual, • we fay
he is deformed in that part, becaufe men are
not commonly made in that manner. But furely
eVery hours experience may convince us, that
a man may have his legs of an equal length,
and refembling each other in ali refpečls, and
his neck of a juft fize, and his back quite ftrait,
vvithout having at the farne time the leaft per-
ceivable beauty. Indeed beauty is fo far from
belonging to the idea of cuftom , that in reality
what affečls us in tliat manner is extremely rare
• and uncommon. The beautiful ftrikes us as much
by its novelty as the deformed itfelf. It is thus
in thofe fpecies of animals with which we are
acquainted; and if one of a new fpecies were re-
prefented, we fliould by no means wait until
Cuftom had fettled an idea of proportion, before
we decided conCerning its beauty or uglinefs:
which fliovvs that the general idea of beauty can
be no more ovving to cuftomary than to natural
proportion. Deformity arifes from the want of
T he common proportions; but the neceffary refult

of

AND B E A U T I F U L.

161

of their exiftence in any obječl is not beauty. If we
fuppofe proportion in natural things to be relative
to cuftom and ufe, the nature of ufe and cuftom
will fiiovv, that beauty, which is a pofuive  and
povverful quality, cannot refult from it. We
are fo wonderfully formed, that, vvhilft we are
creatures vehemently defirous of novelty, we are
as ftrongly attached to habit and cuftom. But it
is the nature of things which hold us by cuftom,
to aflec! us very little whilft vve are in pofTefiion
of them , but ftrongly when they are abfent. I
remember to have frequented a certain plače ,
every day for a long time together; and I may
truly fay, that fo far from hnding pleafure in it,
I was affečted with a fort of wearinefs and difguft ;
I came, I went, I returned, without pleafure;
yet if by any means I paffed by the ufual time
of my going thither, I was remarkably uneafy,
and was not quiet till I had got into my old
track. They who ufe fnuff, take it almoft without
being fenfible that they take it, and the acute
fenfe of frnell is deadened, fo as to feel hardly
any thing from fo ftiarp a ftimulus ; yet deprive
the fnuff-taker of his box , and he is the moft

M

*62  ON THE SUBLIME

uneafy inortal in the world. Indeed fo far are
ufe and habit from being caufes of pleafure,
merely as fuch, that the effeft of Conftant ufe
is to make ali things of vvhatever kind entirely
unaffečiing. For as ufe at lafl takes off the
painful effečl of many things , it reduces the
pleafurable effečl of others in the farne manner,
and brings both to a fort of mediocrity and in-
difference. Very juftly is ufe called a fecond
nature, and our natural and common fiate is
one of abfolute indifference, equally prepared
for pain or pleafure. But when we are thrown
out of this fiate, or deprived of any thing re-
quifite to maintain us in it: when this chance
does not happen by pleafure from fome mechan-
ical caufe, we are always hurt. It is fo vvith the
fecond nature, cuflom, in ali things which relate
to it, Thus the want of the ufual proportions
in men and other animals is lure to difgufl,
though their prefence is by no means any caufe
of real pleafure. It is true, that the proportions
laid dovvn as caufes of beauty in the human bodv,
are frequently found in beautiful ones , becaufe
they are generally found in ali mankind; but

AND BEAUTIFUL.

i63

if it can be fhovvn too , that they are found
vvithout beauty , and that beauty frequently exiffs
without them, and that this beauty, where it
exifis , always can be affigned to other lefs equi-
vocal canfes, it will naturallv lead us to conclude,
that proportion and bea«ty are not ideas of the
farne nature. The trne oppohte to beauty is
not difproportion or deformity, but uglinefs ■
and as it proceeds from caufes oppohte to thofe
of pohtive beauty, we cannot conhder it until
we come to treat of that. Betvveen beauty and
uglinefs there is a fort of mediocrity, in which
tlie affigned proportions are moft commonly
found ;  but this has no effečf upon the paflions.

M 2

16^ ON  THE S U B L I M E.

S E C T. VI.

FITNESS NOT THE CAUSE OF BEAUTT.

IT is faid tliat the idea of utility, or of a part’s
being well adapted to anfvvcr its end, is the caufe
of beauty, or indeed beauty itfelf. If it were
not for this opinion, it had been impofiible for
the dočlrine of proportion to have held its ground
very long; the vvorld vvould be foon weary of
hearing of meafures vvhich related to nothing ,
either of a natural principle, or of a fitnefs to anfwer
fome end 5 the idea vvhich mankind moft com-
monIy conceive of proportion, is the fuitablenefs of
means to certain ends, and vvhere this is not
tlte queftion , very feldom trouble themfelves
about the effečl of different meafures of things.
Therefore it was neceffary for this theory to infift,
that not only artificial, but natural objecls took
their beauty from the fitnefs of the parts for their
feveral purpofes. But in framing this theory, I
am apprehenfive that experience vvas not fufficient-
ly confulted. For,- on that principle, the vvedge-

AND BEAUTIFUI, i65

like ihout of a fwine, with its tough cartilage at
the end, the little funk eyes, and the vvhole
make of the head, fo well adapted to its offices
of digging and rooting, tvould be extremely
beautiful. The great bag hanging to the bili of
a pelican, a thing highly ufeful to this animal,
would be likevvife as beautiful in our eyes. The
hedgehog, fo well fecured againft ali alfaults by
his prickly hide, and the porcupine vvith his
milfile quills, would be then confidered as crea-
tures of no fmall elegance. There are few animals
whofe parts are better contrived than, thofe of a
monkey; he has the hands of a man, joined to
the fpnngy limbs of a beaft; he is admirably
calculated for running, leaping, grappling, and
climbing; and yet there are few animals which
feern to have lefs beauty in the eyes of ali man-
kind. I need fay little on the trunk of the elephant,
of fuch various ufefulnefs , and which is fo far
from contributing to his heauty. How well
fitted is the wolf for running and leaping! how
admirably is the lion armed for battle! but vvill
any one therefore call the elephant, the wolf r

M 3,

166 ON THE SUBLIME

and the lion, beautiful animals? I believe nobody
wih think the form of a man’s legs fo well adapted
to running, as thofe of a horfe, a dog, a deer.
and feveral other creatures; at leafl they have
not that appearance: yet, I belieye, a well fafh-
ioned human leg will be allowed far to exeeed
ali thefe in beauty. If the fitnefs of parts was
\vhat conflituted the lovelinefs of their form, the
actual employment of them vvould undoubtedly
much augment it ; but this, though it is fome-
times fo upon another principle, is far from being
al\yays the cafe. A bird on the wing is not fo
beautiful as when it is perched; nay, there are
feveral of the domeflic fowls which are feldom
feen to fly, and vvhich are nothing the lefs beauti¬
ful on that account; vet birds are fo extremely
aifferent m their form from the bealt and human
, kinds, that you cannot , on the principle of
fitnefs, allow therri any thing agreeable, but in
confideration of their parts being defigned for
quite other purpofes. I never in my life chanced
to fee a peacock % ; and yet before , very
long before I confidered any aptitude in his

AND BEAUTIFUL. 167

form for the aerial life, I was ftruck with the
extreme beauty whieh raifes that bird above
many of the beft flying fowls in the world;
though , for any thing I faw, his way of living
was much like that of the fwine, which fed in
the farm-yard along with him. The farne may
be faid of cocks, hens, and the like; they are of
the flying kind in figure; in their manner of
moving not very different from men and-beafts,
To leave thefe foreign examples; if beauty in our
own fpecies was annexed to ufe , men would be
much more lovely than women; and ftrength
and agility would be confidered as the only
beauties. But to call ftrength by the name of
beauty, to have but one denomination for the
qualities of a Venus and Hercules, fo totally
different in almoft ali refpečls, is furely a ftrange
confufion of ideas, or abufe of vvords. The caufe
of this confufion, I imagine, proceeds from our
frequently perceiving the parts of the human and
other animai bodies to be at once very beautiful,
and very well adapted to their purpofes j
and we are deceived. by a fophifm, \vhich.
makes us take that for a caufe which is only

M 4

i6S ON THE SUBLIME-

a concomitant: this is the fophifm of the fly ■
vvho imagined he raifed a great duft, becaufe
he flood upon the chariot tliat really raifed it.
The ftomach , the lungs, the liver, as well as
other parts, are incomparably well adapted to
their purpofes ;  yet tliey are far from having any
beauty. Again, many things are very beautiful,
in which it is impoffible to difcern any idea of
ufe. And I appeal to the firft and moft natural
feelings of mankind , whether, on beholding a
beautiful eye , or a well-fafliioned rnouth, or a
well-turned leg , any ideas of their being well
fitted for feeing, eating, or running , ever prefent
themfelves. What idea of ufe is it that flowers
excite, the moft beautiful part of the vegetable
world ? It is true , th^t the infinitely wife and
good Creator has, of his bounty, frequently
joined beauty to thofe things which he has made
ufeful to us: but this does not prove that an idea
of ufe and beauty are the farne thing, or that
they are any way dependent on each other.

AND BEAUTIFUL. 169

S E C T. VII.

THE REAL EFFECTS OF FITNESS.

Wh e  N I excluded proportion and fitnefs
from any iliare in beauty, I did not by any
means intend to’fay that they were of no value,
or that they ought to be difregarded in worhs of
art. Works of art are the proper fphere of their
povver; and here it is that they have their full
efTect. Whenever the wifdom of our Creator
intended that we fhould be affedled with any
thing, he did not conhne the execution of his
defign to the languid and precarious operation
of our reafonj but he endued it with powers and
properties that prevent the underftanding, and
even the will, which feizing upon the fenfes and
imagination, captivate the foul before the under-
ftanding is ready either to join with them, or to
oppofe them. It is by a long dedučtion and much
ftudy that we difcover the adorable wifdom of
God in his works-. when we difcover it, the effečt
is very different, not only in the manner of

iyo ON THE SUBLIME

acquiring it, but in its own nature; from that
vvhich ftrikes us without any preparation from the
fublime or the beautiful. How difFerent is the
fatisfa&ion of an anatomih, who difcovers the ufe
of the mufcles and of the fkin, the excellent
contrivance of the one for the various movements
of the body, and the wonderful texture of the
other, at once a general covering, and at once
a general outlet as well as inlet; how difFerent
is this from the affetlion vvhich pofleffes an
ordinary man at the hght of a delicate fmooth
fkin, and ali the other parts of beauty, vvhich
require no invefligation to be perceived! In the
former cafe, vvhilff vve look up to the Maher
vvith admiration and praife , the obječt vvhich
caufes it may be odious and diftafleful; the latter
very often fo touches us by its povver on the
imagination, that vve examine but little into the
artihce of its contrivance, and vve have need of
a ftroiig eIFort of our reafon to difentangle our
minds from the allurements of the obječt, to a
confideration of that vvifdom vvhich invented fo
povverful a machine. The efFečf of proportion and
htnefs, at leaft fo far as they proceed from a

AND BEAUTIFUL. m

mero confideration of the vvork itfelf, produce
approbation, the acquiefcence of the under-
fianding, but not love, nor any paffion of that
fpecies. When we examine the ftru&ure of a
vvatch, vvhen we come to know thoroughly the
ufe of every part of it, fatisfied as vye are \vith
the fitnefs of the whole, vve are far enough from
perceiving any thing like beauty in the vvatch-
work itfelf; but let us look on the cafe, the
labor of lome curious artifl in engraving, with
little or no idea of ufe , we hiall have a much
livelier idea of beauty than we ever could have
had from the watch itfelf, though the mafter-
piece of Graham. In beauty, as I faid, the effeft
is previous to any knovvledge of the ufe; but to
judge of proportion , we mufi know the end fot
vvhich any vvorlt is defigned. According to the end,
the proportion varies. Thus there is one propor-
tion of a. tovver, another of a houfe ; one pro¬
portion of a gallery, another of a hali, another
of a chamber. To judge of the proportions of
thefe , you mufi be hrfl acquainted vvith the pur-
pofes for vvhich they vvere defigned. Goodfenfe and

172  ON THE SUBLIME

experience ačting together, find out what is fit
to be done in every work of art. We are rational
creatures, and in ali our works we ought to re-
gard their end and purpofe; the gratification of
any paiTion , how innocent foever, ought only
to be of fecondary confideration. Herein is
placed the real power of htnefs and proportion;
they operate on the underftanding confidering
them, which approves  the work and acquiefces in
it. The paffibns , and the imagination which
principally raifes them, have here very little to
do. When a room appears in its original naked*
nefs, bare walls and a plain ceiling ; let its pro^
portion be ever fo excellent, it pleafes very little;
a cold approbation is the utmoft \ve can reach ;
a much vvorle-proportioned room with elegant
mouldings and fine feftoons, glafles , and other
merely ornamental furniture, will make the ima¬
gination revolt againft the reafon ;  it will pleafe
much more than the naked proportion of the firft
room , tvhich the underftanding has fo much
approved , as admirably fitted for its purpofes.
What I have here faid and before concerning
proportion, is by no means to perfuade people

AND BEAUTIFUL i 7 3

abfurdly to negleft the idea of ufe in the works
of art. It is only to lhow, that thefe excellent
things , beauty and proportion , are not the
farne- not that they fhould either of them be
difregarded.

S E C T. VIII.

THE RECAPITULATION.

O N the whole ; if fuch parts in human bodies
as are found proportioned, were liievvife con-
ftantly found beautiful, as they certainly are
not; or if they were fo fituated, as that a plea-
fure might flovv from the comparifon , which
they feldom are; or if any affignable proportions
were found, either in plants or animals, which
were always attended with beauty, which never
was the cafe ; or if, where parts were well
adapted to their purpofes, they were conftantly
beautiful, and when no ufe appeared, there
was no beauty, which is contrary to ali expe-
Tience; we might conclude, that beauty ccn-
fifted in proportion or utility. But fince, m

174  ON THE SUBLIME

ali refpečls , the cafe is quite otherivife; we
may be fatislied that beauty does not depend
on thefe, let it o\ve its origin to \vhat elfe it
ivill.

S E C T. IX.

PESFECTION NOT THE C A US E O F BEAUTT.

TII ERE is another notion current, pretty
clofely allied to the former'; that Perfečlion  is
the conftituent caufe of beauty. This opinion
has been made to extend much farther than to.
fenfible objedis. But in thefe, fo far is perfec-
tion, confidered as fuch, from being the caufe
of beauty; that this quality, where it is higheft,
in the female fex, almoft always carries with it
an idea of vveaknefs and imperfedfion. Women
are very fenfible of this; for vvliich reafon, they
learn to lifp, to totter in their walk, to coun-
ferfeit weaknefs, and even ficknefs. In ali this
they are guided by nature. Beauty in difirefs is
much the moft affedling beauty. Blufliing lias
little lefs povver; and modefty in general, which
is a tacit alknvance of iinperfecLion , is ltfelf

AND BEAUTIFUL 175

confidered as an amiable quality, and certainly
heightens every other that is fo. I know it is
in every body’s mouth, that we ought to love
perfeftion. This is to me a fufficient proof, that
it is not the proper objecl of love. Who ever
faid we ought to  love a fine woman, or even
any of thefe beautiful animals which pleafe us P
Here to be affečled, there is no need of the

concurrence of our will.

<0

S E C T. X.

HOW FAR THE IDEA OF BEAUTY MAV BE APPLIED
TO THE £UALITIES OF THE MIND.

N OR is this remark in general lefs applicable
to the qualities of the mind. Thofe virtues which
caufe admiration, and are of the fublimer kind,
produce terror rather than love; fuch as fortitude,
julfice , vvifdom, and the like. NeVer was any
man amiable by force of thefe qualities. Thofe
which engage our hearts, which imprefs us vvith
a fenfe of lovelinefs, are the fofter virtues; eafinefs
of temper, compalfion, kindnefs, and liberalitvj

17  6 ON THE SUBLIME

though certainly tliofe latter are of Iefs inirrte-

diate and momentous concern to fociety, and of

lefs dignity. But it is for that reafon that they

are fo amiable. The great virtues turn princi-

pally on dangers, punihiments, and troubles,

and are exercifed rather in preventing the worft

mifchiefs , than in difpenfing favors ; and are

therefore not lovely, though highly venerable.

The fuborcEinate turn on reliefs, gratifications,

and indulgences; and are therefore more lovelv,

though inferior in dignity. Thofe perfons \vho

creep into the hearts of moft people, who are

chofen as the companions of their fofter hours,

and their reliefs from čare and anxiety, are -never

perfons of fiiining qualities nor flrong virtues.

It is rather the foft green of tlie foul on which

we reft our eyes , that are fatigued with beholcl-

ing more glaring objeCts. It is worth obferving

how we feel ourfelves aflečted in reading the

characlers of C$far and Cato, as they are fo

finely drawn and contrafted in Salluft. In one

the ignofcendo , larglundo;  in the other, nil lar-

glundo.  In one the miferis perjugium  in the
♦

other malis perntciem.  In the latter we have

mudi

AND BEAUTIFUL.

177

much to admire, much to reverence, and per-
haps fomething to fear; we refpečl him, but
we refpecl him at a diftance. The former makes
us familiar with him; we love him, and he
leads us whither he pleafes. To draw things
clofer to our firft and moft natural feelings, I
will add a remark made upon reading this fec-
tion by an ingenious friend. The authority of a
father, fo ufeful to our well-being, and fo juftly
venerable upon ali accounts, hinders us from
having that entire love for him that we have
for our mothers, where the parental aUthority
is almoft melted down into the mother s fond-
nefs and indulgence. But we generally have a
great love for our grandfathers, in vvhom this
authority is removed a degree from us, and
where the vveaknefs of age mellows it into
fomething of a feminine partiality„

N

*;8 O N T H E S U B L I M E

S E C T. XI

HO\V FAR THE IBEA OF BEAUTV MAT BE APFLIED
TO VIRTUE.

From  what has been faid iri the foregoing
feclion, we may eafily fee, how far the applica-
tion of beauty to virtue, may be made vvith
propriety. The general application of this qua-
lity to virtue, has a ftrong tendency to confound
our ideas of things , and it has given rife to an
infinite deal of whimfical theory, as the affixing
the name of beauty to proportion, congruity,
and perfečtion , as well as to qualities of things
yet more remote from our natural ideas of it,
and from one another , has tended to confound
our ideas of beauty, and left us no ftandard or
rule to judge by, that was not even more un-
certain and fallacious than our own fancies. This
loofe and inaccurate manher of fpeaking , has
therefore mifled us both in the theory of tafle and of
morals ; and induced us to remove the fcience of
our duties from their proper bafis (our reafon, our

AND BEAUTIFUL

179

relations, and our neceffities, ) to reff it upon
foundations altogether vifionary and unfubftantiaL-

S E C T. X I I.

THE REAL CAUSE OE BEAUTY,

Having  endeavoured to fhow vvhat beauty is
not,  it remains that we fliould examine , at leaft
with equal attention, in what it really confifts.
Beauty is a thirig much too aifecting not to depend
upon fome pofitive qualities. And , fince it is
no creature of our reafon, fince it ftrikes us witli-
out any reference to ufe, and even where no ufe
at ali can be difcerned , fince the order and
method of nature is generally very different from
our meafures and proportioris, we muli conclude
that beauty is, for the gfeater part, fome quality
in bodies affing naechanically upon the human
mind by the intervention of the fenfes. We
ougnt therefore to confider attentively in what
manner thofe fenfible qualities are difpofed, in
fuclt thrings as by exp'erience we find beautiful,
or which excite in us the paffion of love, or
fome conefpondent allcčtion.

N a

i8o ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. XIII.

BEAUTIFUL OBJEGTS S M A L L.

The  moft obvious point that prefents itfelf to
us in examining any obječl, is its extent or
quantity. And what degree of extent prevails in
bodies that are held beautiful , may be gathered
from the ufual manner of expreffion concerning
it. lam toldthat, in moft languages, the obječls
of love are fpoken of under diminutive epithets.
It is fo in ali the languages of which I have any
knovvledge. In Greek the <wv and other diminu¬
tive terms are almoft alvvays the terms of affeclion
and tendernefs. Thefe diminutives were com-
monly added by the Greeks, to the names of
perfons witli whom they converfed on the terms
of friendfhip and familiarity. Though the Romans
were a people of lefs quick and delicate feelings,
yet they naturally flid into the lefTening termina-
tion upon the farne occahons. Anciently in the
Englilh language tlie diminifiiing ling  was added
to the names of perfons and things that were the

AND BEAUTIFUL. 1S1

obječls oflove. Some we retain flill, as darling  (or
Iitile dear), and a few others. But to this day, in
ordinary converfation, it is ufual to addlhe endear^
ing name of iitile  to everv thing we love : the French
and Italians make ufe of thefe affečlionate dimi-
nutives even more than we. In the animal crea-
tion, out of our own fpecies, it is the fmall we
are inclined to be fond of; little birds , and fome
of the fmaller kinds of beafts. A great beautiful
thing is a manner of expreffion fcarcely ever ufed ;
but that of a great ugly thing, is very common,
There is a widc diiference between admiration
and love. The fublime, which is the caufe of
the former, always d\vells on great objecls, and
terrible, the latter on fmall ones, and pleafmg •
we fubmit to what we admire, but we love what
fubmits to us; in one cafe we are forced , in the
other we are flattered, into compliance. In fhort
the ideas of the fublime and the beautiful fland
on foundations fo different, that it is hard , I had
almoft faid impofhble, to think of reconciling them
in the farne fubjeft, \vithout confiderably lef-
fening the effeft of the one or the other upon

N 3

i8a O N T H E S U B L I M E

the palTions. So that, attending to their quantity,
beautiful cbjects are comparatively fmall.

S E C T.  XIV.

S M O O T H N E S S.

The  next property conftantly obfervable in
fuch objedis is * Smopthnefs : A cjuality fo eflential
to beauty, that I do not now recolleft any thing
beautiful that is not fmooth. In trees and fiovvers,
fmooth leaves are beautiful; fmooth llopes of
earth in gardens ;  fmooth flreams in the landfcape j
fmooth coats of birds and beafts in animal beau-
ties; in fine women, fmooth fkins; and in feveral
forts of ornamental furniture , fmooth and polifhed
furfaces. A very confiderable part of the effecl
of beauty is owing to tliis quality; indeed the
moft confiderable. For take any beautiful obječl,
and give it a brokem and rugged furface, and
howeyer well formed it m^y be in other refpecis,
it pieafes no longer. Whereas, let it want ever fo
many of the other conflituents , if it wants not

*

Part IV. fečt. 2i.

AND BEAUTIFUL.

i§3

this , it becomes more pleafmg than alrnoft ali
the others withoutit. This feems to me fo evident,
that I am a good deal furprifed, that none who
have handled the fubječl have made any mention.
of the quality of fmoothnefs, in the enumeration
of thofe that go to the forming of beauty. For
indeed any rugged, any fudden proječlion, any
fharp angle, is in the higheft degree contrary to
that idea,

S E C T. XV.

G K A D U A L V A R I A T I O NV

J 3  UT as perfe£lly beautiful bodies are not
compofed of angular parts, fo their parts never
continue long in the farne right line. *  They
vary their diretlion every moment , and they
ehange under the eye by a deviation continually
carrying on, but for whofe beginning or end you
will hnd it difficult to afcertain a point. The
view of a beautiful bird will illuflrate this obfer«
vation. Here we fee the head increafmg infenfibiy

N 4

* Part V. fect. 23.

184 ONTHESUBLIME

to the middle, from whence it lelfens gradnally
until it mixes with the neck; the neck lofes itfelf
in a larger fvvell, which continues to the middle
of the body, when the whole decreafes again to
the tail; the tail takes a new direčfion ; but itfoon
varies its ne\v courfe: it blends arain \vith the

O

other parts; and the line is perpetually changing,
above , below, upon every fide. In this defcrip-
tion I have before me the idea of a dove; it
agrees very well with moli of the conditions of
beauty. It is fmooth and downy; its parts are
(to ufe that exprellion) melted in to one antother;
you are prefented with no fudden protuberance
through the whole, and yet the vvhole, is conti-
nually changing. Obferve rhat part of a beautiful
woman vvhere llie is perhaps the moft beautiful,
about the neck and breafts; the fmoothnefs; the
foftnefs; the eafy and infenfible fvvell; the variety
of the furfače , v vilic h is never for the fmalleft
fpače the farne ; the deceitful maže , through
■vvhich the unfleady eye flides giddily, vvithout
knovving vvhere to iix, or whither it is carried.
Is not this a demonffration of that change of
furface , continual, and yet hardly perceptible

AND BEAUTIFUL iS5

at any point; which forms one of the great con-
ftituents of beauty? It gives me no fmall pleafure
to find that I can ftrengthen my theory in this
point, by the opinion of the very ingenious Mr.
Hogarth; whofe idea of the line of beauty I take
in general to be extremely juft. But the idea of
variation, without attending fo accurately to the
manner  of the variation , has led him to confider
angular figures as beautiful ; thefe figures, it is
true, vary greatly; yet they vary in a fudden and
broken manner; and I do not find any natural
objecft which is angular, and at the farne time
beautiful. Indeed few natural obječls are entirely
angular. But I think thofe which approach the
moft nearly to it are the uglieft. I muli add too,
that, fo far as I could obferve of nature, though
the varied line is that alone in \vhich complete
beauty is found, yet there is no particular Ime
\vhich is always found in the moft completely
beautiful , and which is therefore beautiful in
preference to ali other lines, At leaft I never
could obferve it.

i86

ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. XVI.

DE LIČ A C Y.

.A N air of robuftnefs and flrength is very
prejudicial to beauty, an appearance of de/icacy,
and even of fragility, is almoft effential to it.
Whoever examines the vegetable or animal
creation, will find this obfervation to be founded
in nature. It is not the oak, the afli, or the elm,
or any of the robuft trees of the foreft, \vhich
we confider as beautiful ;  they are awful and
maj eh ic • they infpire a fort of reverence. It is
' the delicate myrtle, it is the orange, it is the
almond, it is the jafmine , it is the vine, which
we look on as vegetable beauties. It is the flowery
fpecies, fo remarkable for its weaknfefs and
momentary duration, that gives us the livelieft
idea of beauty and elegance. Among animals,the
greyhound is more beautiful than the maftiff; and
the delicacy of a gennet, a barb , or an Arabian
horfe, is much more amiable than the flrength
and ftability of fome horfes of war or carriage. I
need here fay little of the fair fex, where I

AND BEAUTIFUL 187

believe the point will be eafily allowed me. The
beauty of women is confiderably owing to their
weaknefs or delicacy, and is .even enhanced by
their timidity, a quality of mind analogous to it.
I would not h ere be underftood to fay, that
weaknefs betraying very bad health has any fliare
in beauty; but the ill effečt of this is not becaufe
it is weaknefs, but becaufe the ill fiate of health
which produces fuch weaknefs, alters the other
conditions of beauty; the parts in fuch a cafe
collapfe; the bright color, the lumen purpureum
juvente , is gone; and the fine variation is lofl irs
vvrinkles, fudden breaks, and right fines.

1.88  ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. XVII.

B E A U T Y IN COLOR.

A S to the colors ufually found in beautiful
bodies, it may be fomewhat difficult to afcertain
them, becaufe, in the feveral parts of nature,
there is an infinite variety. However , even in
this variety, we may mark out fomething on
\vhich to fettle. Firft, the colors of beautiful
bodies mufi not be dufky or muddy, but clean
and fair. Secondiy, they mufi not be of the
ftrongeft kind. Thofe which feem moli appro-
priated to beauty, are the milder of every fort j
light greens; foft blues; weak whites ; pink reds ;
and violets. Thirdly, if the colors be ftrong and
vivid, they are always diverfifted, and the obječl
is never of one ftrong: color; there are almoft
always fuch a number of them (as in variegated
flovvers,) that the ftrength and glare of each is
confiderably abated. In a fine complexion, there
is not only fome variety in the coloring, but
the colors: neither the red nor the white are
flrong and glaring. Befides, they are mixed in

AND BEAUTIFUL 189

fuch a manner, and vvith fuch gradations, that
it is impoffible to fix the bounds. On the farne
principle it is, that the dubious color in the necks
and tails of peacocks, and about the heads of
drakes, is fo very agreeable. In reality, the
beauty both of fhape and coloring are as nearly
related, as we can well fuppofe it poffible for
things of fuch different natures to be.

S E C T. XVIII.  <

BECAPIID1ATI Olf.

O N the whole , the qualities of beauty , as
they are merely fenfible qualities, are the follotving.
Firft, to be comparatively fmall. Secondly, to
be fmooth. Thirdly, to have a variety in the
direčlion of the parts; but, fourthly, to have
thofe parts not angular, but melted as it were
into each other. Fifthly,to be ofa delicate frame,
vvithout any remarkable appearance of ftrength.
Sixthly, to have its colors clear and bright, but
notveryftrong and glaring. Seventhly, or ifitfhould

igo ON THE SUBLIME

have any glaring coior, to have it diverfified with
others. Thefe are, I believe, the properties on
which beauty depends; properties that operate by
nature, and are lefs liable to be altered by caprice ,
or confoundea by a diverfity of taftes, than any
other.

S E C T. XI X.

THE P H Y S I O G N O M Y.

T H E Phyfiognomy  bas a confiderable fliare in
beauty, efpeeially in that of our own fpecies,
The manners give a certain determination to the
eountenance 5 which being obferved to corre-
fpond pretty regularly with them, is capable of
joining the effečls of certain agreeable qualities
of tlie mind to thofe of the body^ So that to
form a fmiihed human beauty, and to give it
its full influence, the face muft be expreffive of
fuch gentle and amiable qualities, as correipond
with the foftnefs, fmoothnefs ,  and delicacy of
the outvvard form.

AND BEAUTIFUL, 191
S E C 'T. XX.

THE E Y E.

J H A VE hitherto purpofely omitted to fpeak
of the Eye , which has fo great a fhare in the
beauty of the animal creation, as it did not fafl
fo eafily under the foregoing heads, though in
fačf it is reducible to the farne principi es. I
think then, that the beauty of the eye confifts,
firft j in its clearnefs;  what colored  eye fliali pleafe
moft, depends a good deal on particular fancies j
but none are pleafed \vith an eye whofe vvater
(to ufe that term) is dull and muddy *. We
are pleafed with the eye in this view, on the
principle upon \vhieh we like diamonds, clear
vvater, glafs, and fuch like tranfparent fubftan-
ces. SeCondly, the motion of the eye contributes
to its beauty, by continually Jdiifting its direc-
tion; but a flovv and languid motion is more
beautiful fhaa a briik one;- the latter is enliven-
ingj the former lovely. Thirdly, with regardto

* Part IV. fed.

Iga ON THE S U B L I M E

the union of the eye with the neighbouring parts,
it is to hold the farne rule that is cfiven of other
beautiful ones; it is not to mahe a ftrong devia-
tion from the line of the neighbouring parts;
nor to verge into any exačl geometrical hgure.
Befides ali this, the eye affečls, as it is expreffive
of fome qualities of the mind, and its principal
power generally arifes from this; fo that what
we have juft faid of the phyfiognomy is appli-
cable here.

S E C T. XXI.

UGLINESS.

IT may perhaps appear like a fort of repetitioil
of what we have before faid , to infift here
upon the nature of Uglinefs;  as I imagine it to
be in ali refpečts the oppofite to thofe qualities
vvhich we have laid down for the conflituents
of beauty. But though uglinefs be the oppofite
to beauty, it is not the oppofite to proportion
and fitnefs. For it is poffible that a “thing may
be very ugly with any proportions , and with a
perfečt fitnefs to any ufes. Uglinefs I imagine

likewife

AND BEAUTIFUL i 9 3

likewife to be confiftent enough with an idea of
the fublime. But I vvould by no means infinuate
that uglinefs of itfelf is a fublime idea, unlefs
united with fuch qualities as excite a ftrong
ter r or.

S E C T. XXII,

G R A C E.

G RACEFULNESS  is an idea not very dif-
ferent from beauty; it confifls in much the farne
things. Gracefulnefs is an idea belonging to pof-
ture  and motion.  In both thefe, to be graceful,
it is requifite that there be no appearance of
difficulty; there is required a fmall inflečiion of
the body; and a compofure of the parts in fuch
a manner, as not to incumber each other, not
to appear divided by fharp and fudden angles.
In this eafe, this roundnefs, this delicacy of
attitude and motion it is that ali the magic of
grace confifls, and what is called its je ne fgai
tjuoi;  as will be obvious to any obferver, who
confiders attentively the Venus de Medicis, the
Antmous, or any llatue generallv allowed to be
graceful in a high degree.

9

m

ON THE S U B L I M E

S E C T. XIII.

ELEGANCE AND SPECIOUSNESS.

W HEN any body is compofed of parts fmooth
and polifbed, \vithout preffing upon each other,
vvithout fhcKving arty ruggednefs of confufion ,
and at the farne time affečiing fome regular fhape,
I call it elegant.  It is clofely allied to the beau-
tiful, differing from it only in this regularily ;
which however, as it makes a very material dif-
ference in the affečtion produced, may very -vvell
conftitute anotlier fpecies. Under this head I
rank thofe delicate and regular works of art, that
imitate no determinate object in nature, as elegant
feuildings, and pieces of furniture. When any
objecf partakes of the abovementioned qualitles,
or of‘thofe of beautiful bodies, and is withal of
great dimenfions , it is full as remote from the
idea of mere beauty, I call it fine  or fpecious.

AND BEAUTIFUL. ig5

S E C T. XXIV.

THE BEAUTIFUL IN FEELING,

The foregoing defcription of beauty, fo far as
it is taken in by the eye, may be greatly illuftra-
ted by defcribing the nature of objecis, vvhich
produce a fimilar efTe-ci through the touch. Tli is
I call the beautiful in Feeling.  It correfponds
wonderfully with what caufes the farne fpecies of
pleafure to the fight. There is a chain in ali our
fenfations; they are ali but different forts of feel-
ings, calculated to be affečled by various forts
of obječls, but ali to be affe£ted after the farne
manner. AH bodies that arepleafant to the touch,
are fo by the flightnefs of the reftftance they
make, Refiflance is either to motion along the
furface, or to the preffure of the parts on one
anotherif  the former be flight, we call the
body fmooth ; if the latter, foft. The chief plea¬
fure we receive by feeling, is in the one or the
other of thele qualities; and if there be a combi-
ftation of both, our pleafure is greatly increafed.

O 2

ig6 ON THE SUBLIME

This is fo plain, that it is rather more fit to il-
luftrate other things, than to be illuftrated itfelf
by an example. The next fource of pleafure in
this fenfe , as in every other, is the continually
prefenting fomervhat new; and we find that bodies
which continually vary their furface, are muck
the moft pleafant or beautiful to the feeling, as
any one that pleafes may experiencc. The third
property in fuch obječis is, that though the fur¬
face continually varies its direftion, it n e ver
varies it fuddenly. The application of any thing
fudden, even though the impreflion itfelf have
little or nothing of violence, is difagreeable. The
quick application of a finger a little vvarmer or
colder than ufual, without notice, makes us ftart;
a flight tap on the fhoulder, not expečled, has
the farne effečh Hence it is that angular bodies,
bodies that fuddenly vary the direčlion of the
outline , afford fo little pleafure to the feeling.
Every fuch change is a fort of climbing or
falling in miniature; fo that fquares, triangles,
and other angular figures are neither beautiful
£o the fight nor feeling. Whoever compares his

AND BEAUTIFUL

197

fiate of mind, on feeling foft, fmootli, variegated,
unangular bodies, with that in which he finds
himfelf, on the vievv of a beautiful obječt, will
perceive a very ftrikifrg analogy in the elfečls of
both ; and which may go a good way tovvards
difcovering their cammon caufe. Feeling and
fight, in this refpečl, differ in bnt a few points.
The touch tafces in the pleafure of foftnefs, which
is not primarily an obječl of fight; the fight,. on
the other hand , comprehends color , vvhich can
hardly be made perceptible to the touch : the
touch again has the advantage in a new idea of
pleafure refulting frorn a moderate degree of
vvarmth; but the eye triumphs in the infinite
extent and multiplicity of its objedls. But there
is fuch a fimilitude in the pleafures of thefe fenfes,
that I am apt to fancy, if it \vere pofiible that
one might difcern color by feeling (as it is faid
fome blind men have done ), that the farne colors,
and the farne difpofition of coloring, vvhich are
found beautiful to the fight, vvould be found
likevvife mod grateful to the touch. But, fetting
afide conjedures, let us pafs to the other fenfe;
of hearing. O 3

ig8 ON THE SUB LIME

S E C T. XXV.

THE BEAUTIFUI IN SOUNDS.

IN tbis fenfe \ve find an equal aptitude to be
affečted in a foft and delicate manner; and hoW
far fvveet or beautiful founds agree vvith our de-
fcriptions of beauty in other fenfes, the experience
of every one muli decide. Milton has defcribed
this fpecies ofmufic in one of his juvenile poems *.
I need not fay that Milton was perfedfly well ver-
fed in that art;  and that no man had a liner ear,
vvith a happier manner of expreffing the affeftions
of one fenfe by metaphors taken fr o m another.
The defcription is as follows :

-- And c v er againji eating cares,

Lap me in  foft Lydian airs;

In noten vvith many a  vvinding bom
Of  linked fvveetnefs long dravvn out;

With wanton head and giddy cunning ,

The  melting voice through  mazes running  ;•

*' L^allegro.

AND BEAUTIFUL; *99

Untivifting ali the chains that tie
The hidden foul oj harmony ,

Let us parallel this with the foftnefs, the winding
furface , the unbroken continuance , the eafy
gradation of the beautiful in other things; and
ali the diverfities of the feveral fenfes, \vith ali
their feveral affečtions, will rather help to throw
lights from one another to finifh one clear, con-
fiftent idea of the whole, than to obfcure it by
their intricacy and variety.

To the abovementioned defcription I Ihall add
one or two remarks, The firft is; that the beauti-
ful in mufic will not bear that loudnefs and
ftrength of founds, which may be ufed to raife
other paflions; nor notes, which are Hi rili or harffi,
or deep; it agrees beli with fuch as are clear,
even, fmooth, and weak. The fecond is; that
great variety, and quick tranfition from one
meafure or tone to another, are contrary to the
genius of the beautiful in mufic. Such * tranfi-
tions often excite mirth, or other fudden and
tumultuous pafRons; but not that fmkfng, that

*  I ne’er am merry, when I hear fvveet mufic.

Shakespear,

O 4

200 O-N THE S U E L I M E

melting , that languor, which is the charačleriftical
effečt of the beautifal as it regards every fenfe.
The pafhon excited by beauty is in fa£t nearer
to a fpecies of melancholy, than to joliity and
mirth. I do not here mean to confine muhe to
any one fpecies of notes, or toneš, neither is it
an art in \vhich I can fay I Jiave any great ih šil;
My fole defign in this remark is, to fettle a
conMent idea of beauty. The infinite variety of
the affečlions of the foni will fuggeft to a good
head, and ihilful ear,avariety of fuch founds as
are fitted to raife them. It can be no prejudice to
this, to clear and diflinguiih fome few particulars.
that belong to the farne clafs, and are confiftent
wlth each other, from the immenfe crowd of
different, and fometirnes contradičiory ideas , that
rank vulgarly under the ftandard of beauty. And
of thefe it is my intention to mark fuch only of
the leading points as ihow the conformity of the
fenfe of hearing, tvith ali the other fenfes in the
article of their pleafures.

AND BEAUTIFUL. soi
S E C T. XXVI.

TASTE AND SMELE.

This  general agreement of the fenfes is yet
more evident on minutely confidering thofe of
tafte and fmell. We metaphorically apply the idea
of fweetnefs to fights and founds; but as the
qualities of bodies by vvhich they are fitted to
excite either pleafure or p^in in thefe fenfes, are
not fo obvious as they are in the others, \ve fhall
refer an explanation of their analogy, which is
a very clofe one, to that part, \vherein we come
to confider the common efficient caufe of beauty,
as it regards ali the fenfes. I do not think any
thing better fitted to eftablifh a clear and fettled
idea of vifual beauty, than this way of examining
the fimilar pleafures of other fenfes ■ tor  one part
is fometimes clear in one of thefe fenfes, that is
more obfcure in another; and vvhere there is a
clear concurrence of ali, we may with more
certainty fpeak of any one of them. By this means,
they bear witnefs to each other; nature is, as it

202 ON THE SUBLIME

were, fcrutinized; and we report nothing of her
but what we receive from her own Information.

S E C T. XXVII.

THE SUBLIME AND BEAUTIEUJ, COMPARED.

♦

O N clofing this general view of beauty, it
naturally occurs, that we Ihould compare it vvith
the fublime; and in this comparifon there appears
a remarkable contraft.^ For fublime obječls are
vaft in their dimenfions, beautiful ones compara-
tive]y fmall: beauty ihould befmooth and polillied;
the great, rugged and negligent: bea;ity fliould
ihun the rightline , yet deviate from it in fen (ib ly ;
the great in many cafes loves the right line; and
vvhen it deviates, it often makes a ftrong devia-
tion ; beauty Ihould not be obfcure; the great
ought to be dark and gloomy : beauty ihould be
light and delicate; the great ought to be folid,
and even mallive. They are indeed ideas of a
very dilferent nature, one being founded on pain ,
the other on pleafure ; and hmvever they may
vary aftervvards from the direct nature of their

AND BEAUTIFUL

qo3

caufes, yet thefe caufes keep up an eternal
diflinčiion between them, a diflinčlion never to
be forgotten by any whofe bufmefs it is to affečf
the paffions. In the infmite variety of natural
combinations, we mufi exped to fmd the qualities
of things the moft remote imaginable from each
other united in the farne obječl. We mufi expečt
alfo to fmd combinations of the farne kind in the
works of art. But when we confider the power
of an obječt upon our paffions, we mufi know
that vvhen any thing is intended to affečt the
min,d by the force of fome predominant property,
the aflečlion produced is like to be the more
uniform and perfect, if ali the other properties
or qualities of the obje čl be of the farne nature,
and tending to the farne defign as the principal 5

If black and white blend , foften , and unite ,

A thonfand ways , are there no black and.whi.te P

If the qualities of the fublime and beautiful are
fometimes found united, does this prove that
they are the farne; does it prove that they are
sny way allied; does it prove even that they are

204 O N T H E S U B L I M E &c.

not oppofite and contradičlory ? Black and white
may foften , may blend; but they are not therefore
the farne. Nor, \vhen they are fo foftened and
blended with each other, or with different colors,
is the power of black as black, or of white as
white , fo flrong as when each ftands uniform
and diftinguilhed.

THE END OF THE THIED PART.

A

P HILOSO PHI CAL INQ,UIRY

I N T O T 'H E

ORIGIN OF OUR IDEAS

O F THE

SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL.

PART IV.

S E C T. I.

OF THE’ EFFICIENT CAUSE OF THE SUBLIME ANO
BEAUTIFUL.

w H EN I fay, I intenci to inquire into tlie
efficient caufe of fublimity and beauty, I would
not be underftood to fay, that I can come to
the ultimate caufe. I do not pretend that I fhall
ever be able to explain, why certain affečlions
of the body produce fuch a diftinčl emotion of
mind, and no other; or why the body is at
ali affečled by the mind, or the mind by the
body. A little thought vvill fliow this to be

206  ON THE SUBLIME

imppffible. But I conceive, if vve can difcoveT'
what affections of the mind produced certain
emotions of the body; and what diftinčt feelings
and qualities of body fliall produce certain de-
terminate paffions in the mind, and no others,
I fanoy a great deal will be done; fomething not
nnufeful totvards a diftinčt knotvledge of our
paffions, fo far at leaft as we have them at pre-
fent under our confideration. This is ali, I be-
lieve, we can do. If we could advance a flep
farther, difficulties would Hill remain , as we
lliould be Hill equally diflant from the firft caufe,
When Newton firft difcovered the property of
attra&ion, and fettled its laws, he found it fer-
ved very wel! to explain feveral of the moft re-
markable phenomena in nature; but yet with
reference to the general fyftem of things, he
could conftder attraclion but as an effečt, whofe
caufe at that time he did not attempt to trače.
But vvhen he aftenvards began to account for it
by a fubtile elaftic etlier, this great man (if in
fo great a man it be not impious to difcover
any thing like a blemifti) feemed to have quitted
lijs ufaal cautious manner of philofophizing; fince 9

AND BEAUTIFUL

20 /

perhaps , allovving ali that lias been advanced
on this fubječt to be fufficiently proved, I think
it leaves us with ag many difficulties as it found
us. That great chain of caufes, which links one
to another, eVen to the throne of God himfelf,
can never be unravelled by any induftry of
ours. When we go but one ftep beyond the
immediately fenfible qualities of things, \ve go
out of our depth. Ali we do after is but a faint
ftrugglo, that ihows we are in an element wMdfi
does not belong to us. So that when I fpeak.of
caufe, and efficient caufe, I only mean certain
alfeclions of the mind, that caufe certarn changes
in the body; or certain porvers and properties
in bodies, that work a change in! the mind. As
if I \vere to explain the motion of a body fai -
ling to the ground, I tvould fay it was caufed
by gravity; and 1 tvould endeavour to fltow after
what manner this power operated, vvithout at-
tempting to fhovv why it operated in this manner:
or if I were to explam the effefts of bodies
flriking One another by the common laws of
perculhon, I ih o u ld not endeavour to explain
how motion itfelf is communicated.

2o8 O N THE S U B L I M E

S E C T. II.

ASSOCIATIOK.

It  is no fmall bar in the way of our inquiry
into the caufe of our paffions, that the occafion
of many of them are given, and that their govern-
ing motions are communicated at a time when
vve have not capacity to redeči on them; at a
time of which ali fort of memory is worn out of
our minds. For befides fuch things as affečl us
in various manners, according to their natural
powers, there are affociations made at that early
feafon, which we find it very hard aftenvards to
diftinguilh from natural effečls. Not to mention
the unaccountable antipathies which we find in
many perfons, we ali fmd it impoffible to re-
member when a fleep became more terrible than
a plain; or fire or water more terrible than a
clod of earth; though ali thefe are very probably
either conclufions from experience, or arifing
from the premonitions of others ;  and fome of
them impreffed , in ali likelihood, pretty late.
But as it muft be allowed that many things affečl

us

AND BEAUTIFUL.

209

us after a certain manner, not by any naturdl
powers they have for that purpofe, but by al-
fociation; fo it would be abfurd, on the other
hand, to fay that ali things affeti us by affociation
only 5 fince lome things mufi have been originally
and naturally agreeable or difagreeable , from
which the others deriVe their affociated powers ■
and it would be, I fančy, to little purpofe to look
for the caufe of our paffions in affociation , until
we fail of it in the natural properties of things.

S E C T, I I L

Cause of pain and fear.

X Have before obferved *,  that whatever is qua-
lified to caule terror, is a foundation capable of
the fublime; to vvhich I add, that not only thefe,
but many things from which we cannot probably
apprehend any danger, have a fimilar effecl, be-
caufe they operate in a fimilar manner*- I obferv¬
ed too, that f whatever produces pleafure, poli-
tive and original pleafure, is fit to have beauty

Part I. fedt. 8.
f Patt L fedt. xo.

P

210 ON THE SUBLIME

engrafted on it. Therefore, to clear up the nature
of thefe qUalities , it may be neceffary to explain
the nature of pain and pleafure on \vhich they
depend. A man who fuffers under violent bodiiy
pain, (I fuppofe the moft violent , becaufe the
effiect may be the more obvious ; ) I fay a man in
great pain has his teeth fet, his eyebrows are
•violently contračled , his forehead is wrinMed,
his eyes are dragged inwards , and rolled with
great vehemence, his hair lian ds an end , the
voice is forced out in fhort fhrieks and groans ,
and the whole fabric totters. Fear or terror,
which is an apprehenfion of pain or death , exhi-
bits exa£lly the farne effečls, approaching in vio-
lence to thofe juft mentioned, in proportion to
the nearnefs of the caufe, and the weaknefs of
the fubječt. This is not only fo in the hu¬
man fpecies : but I have more than once ob-
ferved in dogs, under an apprehenfion of pu-
nilhment, that they have \vrithed their bodies,
and yelped, and hovvled, as if they had ačlualiy
felt the blows. From hence I conclude , that pain
and fear a eh upon the farne parts of the body ,
and in the farne manner , though fomewhat

AND BEAUTIFUL.

211

differing in degree: That pain and fear confift in
an unnatural tenfion of the nervesj that this is
fometimes accompanied with an unnatural flrength,
which fometimes fuddenly changes into an extra-
ordinary vveaknefs ;  that the effečls often corne on
alternately, and are fometimes mixed with each
other. This is the nature of ali conclufive agita-
tions, efpecially in weaker fubječfs, which are
the mod liable to the fevereft imprefRons of pain
and fear. The only difference between pain and
lerror is, that things which caufe pain operate
on the mind, by the interventioh of the body;
whereas things that caufe terror, generally affecf
the bodily organs by the operation of the mind
fuggefting the danger; but both agreeing, either
primarily, or fecondarily, in producing a tenfion,
contraftion, or violent emotion of the nerves%

* I do not h žre enter into the queftion debated among
phyfiologifi:s, whethsr pain be the fcffečt of a contračtion,
or a tenfion ofthe nerves. Either will ferve my purpofe;
for by tenfion, I mean no more than a violent pulling of
the fibres, which compofe any mufcle or membrane, in
vvhatever way this is done.

P 8

212 ON THE S U B L I M E

they agree likevvife in every thing elfe. For it
appears very clearly to me, from this , as vvell as
from many other examples, that when the body
is difpofed, by any means whatfoever , to fuch
emotions as it vvould acquire by the means of a
certain paffion; it will of itfelf excite fomething
very like that paffion in the mind.

S E C T. IV.

CONTINUED.

To tliis purpofe Mr. Spon, in his Recherches
d’Antiquite, gives us a curious ftory of the celebrat-
ed phyfiognomift Campanella. This man , it
'feems, had not only made very accurate obferva-
tions on human faces, but was very expert in
mimicking fuch as were any way remarkable.
When he had a mind to penetrate into the inclina-
tions of thofe he had to deal with, he compofed
his face , his gefture, and His whole body, as
nearly as he could into the exaci fimilitude of
the perfon he intended to examine; and then
carefully obferved what turn of mind he feemed

AND BEAUTIFUL. *i3

to acquire by this change. So that, fays my
author, he was able to enter into the difpofitions
and thoughts of people as effečlually as lf he had
been changed into the very men. I have often
obferved, that on mimicking thelooksand geftures
of angryor  placid, or frighted , or daringmen,
I have involuntarily found my mind turned to
that padion, whofe appearance I endeavoured to
imitate; nay, I am convinced it is liard to avoid
it , though one ftrove to feparate the paffion fr o m
its correfpondent geftures. Our minds and bodies
are fo clofely and intirnately connecied , that one
is incapable of pain or pleafure without the other.
Campanella, of whom we have been fpeaking,
could fo abflračl h is attention from any fufferings
of his body, that he was able to endure the račk
itfelf without much pain ; and in leffer pains,
every body mufi have obferved, that vvhen we
can employ our attention on any thing elfe, the
pain has been for a time fufpended : on the other
hand, if by any means the body is indifpofed to
perform fuch geftures, or to be ftimulated into fuch

P 3

214  ON THE SUBLIME

emotions as any paflion ufually produces in it, that
pafTion itfelf never can arife, though its caufe fliould
be never L> flronglv in aclion ; though it ilioukl be
merely mental , and immediately affedting none
of the fenfes. As an opiate, or fpirituous liquors,
fliall fufpend the operation of grief, or fear, or
anger, in fp?te of ali our efforts to the contrary;
and this by inducing in the body a difpofition
contrary to that which it receives from thefe
paihons.

S E C T. V.

HOtV THE SUBLIME IS PRODUCED.

H A V IN G confidered terror as producing an
unnatural tenfion and certain violent emotions
of the nerves; it eafily folloivs, from\vhatwe have
juft faid, that whatever is htted to produce fuch
a tenfion mufi be produčlive of a paffion fimilar
to terror *, and confequently mufi be a fource
of the fublime, though it fliould have no idea
of danger connečled \vith it. So that little remains

*  Part II. Sed. 2,

AND BEAUTIFUL.

oi5

towards lliotving the caufe of the fublime , but
ta fliovv that the inftances we have given of it
in the fecond part relate to fuch things, as are
fitted by nature to produce this fort of tenfion,
either by the prirnary operation of the mind or
the body. With regard to fuch things as affečt
by the aifociated idea of danger , there can be no
doubt but that they produce terror, and acf by
fome modification‘of that paffion • and that terror,
\vhen fuihciently violent, raifes the emotions of
the body juft mentioned, can as little be doubted,
But if the fublime is built on terror, or fome
paffion like it, which has pain for its objecff, it is
previouflyproper to inqui re ho\v any fpecies of
delight can be derived from a caufe fo apparently
contrary to it. I fay, delight , becaufe , as I have
often remarked, it is very evidently difFerent in
its caufe, and in its otvn nature, from a&ual
and pofitive pleafure.

qi6 ON THE SUSLIM E

S E C T. .VI.

HOW P Al N CAN BE A CAUSE OF DELIGHT,

pROVIDENCE has fo ordered it, that a
' fiate of red and inačlion, however it may flatter
our indolence, fhould be produčUve of many
inconveniencies ; that it fhould generate fuch
diforders, as may force us to liave recourfe to fome
labor j  as a thing abfolutely requifite to make us
pafs our lives vvith tolerable fatisfaction; for the
nature of reit is to fuffer ali the parts of our
bodies to fall into a relaxation, that not only
difables the members from performing their
funčlions, but takes away the vigorous tone of
fibre \vhich is requifite for carrying on the natural
and neceffary fecretiohs, At the farne time, that
in this languid i na čtiv e fiate, the nerves are more
liable to the moft horrid convulfions , than when
4 they are fufficiently braced and ffrengthened.
Melancholy, dejeCtion, defpair, and often felf-
murder , is the confequence of the glopmy vievv
vve take of th.ings in this relaxed fiate of body.

AND B E A U T I F U L.

217

The beff remedv for ali thefe evils is exercife or
lab or;  and labor is a furmounting of dljficultles ,
an exertion of the contracling power of the
mufcles; and as fuch refembles pain, which
conhfts in tenfion or contračlion, in every thing
but degree. Labor is not only requifxte to preferve
the coarfer organs in a fiate fit for their funftions;
but it is equally neceffary to thefe finer and more
delicate organs , on which, and by which, the
imagination and perhaps the other mental powers
adt Since it is probable, that not only the
inferior parts of the foul, as the paffions are
called , but the underftanding itfelf mahe s ufe of
fome fine corporeal inflruments in its operations;
though what they are, and vvhere they are, may
be fomevvhat hard to fettle: but that it does make
ufe of fuch, appears from hence; that a long
exercife of the mental powers induces a remarkable
iaffitude of the whole body; and on the other
hand, that great bodily labor, or pain, weakens
and fometimes a£fually deftroys the mental facul-
ties. Now, as a due exercife is effential to the
coarfe mufcular parts of the conflitution, and that
vvithout this roufmg they would become languid

3i8

ON THE SUBLIME

and difeafed, the very farne rule holds vvith regard
to thofe finer parts we have mentioned; to have
them in proper order, they muli be lliafen and
\vorked to a proper degree.

S E C T. VII.

EXERCIS£ NECESSARY FOR THE FINER ORGANS.

A S common labor, which is a mode of pain,
is the exercife of the grolfer, a mode of terror
is the exercife of the finer parts of the fyftem;
and if a certain mode of pain be of fuch a na¬
ture as to a čl up on the eye or the ear ,  as they
are the mod delicate opgans, the affečlion ap-
proaches more nearly to that which has a mental
caufe. In ali thefe cafes, if the pain and terror
are fo modified as not to be a'clually noxious; if
the pain is not xarried to violence , and the
terror is not converfant about the prefent ae-
flručlion of the perfon, as thefe emotions clear
the parts, whether fine or grofs, of a dangerous
and troublefome incumbrance , they are ca-
pable of producing delight; not pleafure, but

AND BEAUTIFUL.

519

a Fort of delightful liorror, a Fort of tranquillity
tinged vvith terror; which, as it belongs to felf-
preFervation, is one of the ftrongeft of ali the
paffions. Its obječf is the Fublime *. Its higheft
degree I call ajlonijhment;  the fubordinate de-
grees are awe, reverence, and refpečt, which,
by the very etymology of the words, ihow from
what Fource they are derived, and ho\v they
ftand diflinguifhed from pofitive pleafure.

S E C T. VIII.

WHY THINGS NOT DANGEROUS PRODUCE A PASSION
LIRE TERROR.

Mode of terror or pain is always tli e caufe
of the fublime. For terror, or affociated danger,
the foregoing explanation is, I believe, fuffi-
cient. It will require fomething more trouble
to fhow, that fuch examples as I have given
of the fublime in the fecond part, are capable

* Part II. fečt.
f Part I. fečt. 7.

Part II. fečt. a.

2Qo ON  THE S U B L I M E

of producing a mode of pain, and of being
thus allied to terror, and to be accounted for
on the farne principles. And firft of fuch objeds
as are great in their dimenfions. I fpeak of vi-
fual objefts.

S E C T. IX.

WIIY VIS UAL OBJECTS OF GREAT DIMENSIONS ARE
STEBLI M E.

Y 1310 N is performed by having a pidure
formed by tlie rays of light which are refleded
frorn the objed painted in one piece, inftan-
taneoufly, on the retina, or laft nervous part
of the eye. Or, according to others, there is
but one poiut of any objed painted on the eye
in fuch a manner as to be perceived at once ;
but by moving the eye, we gather up with great
celerity, the feveral parts of the objed, fo as to
form one uniform piece. If the former cpinion be
aliovved, it will be confideredthat  though ail the
light refleded from a large body fliould ftrike the eye
in one inftant; yet we mufi fuppofe that the body

Patt II. fečt. 7.

itfelf is formed of a vaft number of diftinčl poihts,
every one of which, or the ray fronl every one.,
makes an impreffion on the retina. So that,
though the image of one point fhould caufe bu£
a finali tenfion of this membrane, another, and
another, and another ftroke, muft in their pro-
grefs caufe a very great one, until it arrives at
laft to the higheft degree; andthewhole capacity
of the eye, vibrating in ali its parts, muft ap-
proach near to the nature of what caufes pain,
and confequently muft produce ah idea of the
fublime. Again, if we take it, that one point
only of an obječt is diftinguifliable at once,- the
matter will amount nearly to the farne thing,
or rather it will make the origin of the fublime
from greatnefs of dimenfion yet clearer. For if
but one point is obferved at once, the eye muft
traverfe the vaft fpace of fuch bodies with great
quicknefs, and Confequently the fine nerves and
mufcles deftined to the motion of that part muft
be very much ftrained • and their great fenfibility
muft make them highly affected by this ftrain-
ing. Befides, it fignifies juft nothing to the effečt
produced, whether a body hasits parts connetfted

222 ON  THE SUBLIME

ancl makes its impreffion at once; or, making
but one impreffion of a point at a time, it caufes
a fucceffion of the farne or otbers fo quickly as ta
make them feem united ; as is evident from the
common effečf of whirling about a lighted torch
or piece of wood ; wKich, if done with celerity,
feems a circle of fire.

S E C T. X.

UNITY WHY KE£)UISITE TO VASTNESS*

It  may be obječled to this theory, that the
eye generally receives an equal number of rays
at ali times , and that therefore a great obječt
cannot affečt it by the number of rays, more
tlian that variety of obječls which the eye mufi
always difcern whilft it remains open. But to
this I anfwer, that admitting an equal number
of rays, or an equal quantlty of luminous parti-
cles to flrike the eye at ali times , yet if thefe rays
ffequently vary their nature, now to blue, novv
to red, and fo on, or their manner of termina-
tjon, as to a number of petty fquares, triangles,

AND EEAUTIFUL.

22J

or the like , at every change , whether of color
or lliape, the organ has a fort of a relaxation or
reft; but this relaxation and labor fo often inter-
rupted, is by no means produčlive of eafe ;
neither has it the effečl of vigorous and uniform
labor. VVhoever has remarked the different effects
of fome flrong exercife, and fome little piddling
ačtion , will underftand why a teafmg fretful em-
ployment, \vhich at once wearies and weakens
the body, fhould have nothing great; thefe forts
of impulfes, \vhich are rather teafmg than pain-
ful, by continually and fuddenly altering their
tenor and directionprevent that full tenhon ,
that fpecies of uniform labor, which is allied to
ftrong pain, and caufes the fublime. The fum
total of things of various kinds, though it Ihould
equal the number of the uniform parts compofing
fome one  entire obječt, is not equal in its effečt
upon the organs of our bodies. Befides the one
already affigned , there is another very ftrong
reafon for the difference. The mind in reality
hardlv ever can attend diligently to more tlian
one thing at a time ; if this thing be little , the
efFeči is little , and a number of other little ob j ec U

224 ON THE SUBLIME

cannot engage the attention; the mind is boun-

v

ded by the bounds of the obječt; and what is
not attended to, and what does not exift, are
much the farne in the effečt; but the eye or the
mind (for in this cafe there is no difference) in
great uniform obječls does not readiiy arrive at
their bounds; it has no reft, whilft it contem-
plates them; the image is much the farne every
vvhere. So that every thing great by its quantity
muft neceffarily be one, fimple and entire.

SECT. XI,

A. N D BEAUTIFUL.

av.5

S E C T. X L

THE ARTIFICIAL INFINITE.

We  have obferved, that a fpecies of greatnefe
arifes from the artificial inhnite; and that this in-
finite confifts in an uniform fucceflion of great
parts: we obferved too, that the farne uniform
fucceflion had a like power in founds. But be-
caufe the effečls of many things are clearer in one
of the fenfes than in another, and that ali the
fenfes bear an analogy to, and illuflrate one another,
I fliall begin with this power in founds, as the
caufe of the fublimity from fucceflion is rather
more obvious in the fenfe of hearing. And I fliall
here once for ali obferve, that an inveftigation
of the natural and mechanical caufes of our paf«
fions, befides the curiofity of the fubjetl, gives,
if they are difcovered, a double ftrength and
luftre to any rules we deliver on fuch mat-
ters. When the ear receives any fimple found,
it is ftruck by a fingle pulfe of the air, which
makes the ear - drum and the other membran
nous parts vibrate according to the nature

026  ON THE SUBL1ME

and fpecies of the ftroke. If the ftroke be ftrong,
the 'organ of hearing fuffers a confiderable degree
of tenfion. If the ftroke be repeated pretty foon
after, the repetition caufes an expe£fation of
another ftroke. And it muft be obferved, that
expečtation itfelf caufes a tenfion. This is apparent
in many animals, w3io, when they prepara for
hearing any founu, roufe themfelves, and prick
up their ears: fo that here the effečl of the founds
is confiderablv augmented by a new auxiliary,
the expečfation. But though after a number of
ftrokes, we expeči ftill more, not being able to
afcertain the exači time of their arrival, when
they arrive, they produce a fort of furprife, which
increafes this tenfion yet further, For I h a ve
obferved; that when at any time I have waited
very earneftly for fome found , that returned at
intervals , (as the fucceffive firing of cannon)
though I fully expecied the returh of the found,
when it came it always made me ftart a little;
the ear-drum fuffered a convulfion, and the whole
body confented with it. The tenfion of the part
thus increafmg at every blow , by the united
forces of the ftroke itfelf , the expeciation, and

AND BEAUTIFUL.

-227

the furprife, it is worked up to fuch a pitch as
to be capable of the fublime; it is brought juft
to the verge of pain. Even when the caufe has
ceafed, the organs of hearing being .often fuccef-
hvely ftruck in a fimilar manner, continue to vibrate
in that manner for fome time longer; this is an
additional help to the greatnefs of the effečt.

S E C T. XII.

THE VIBRATIONS MUST BE SIMILAR.

13 U T if the vibration be not fimilar at every
impreffion, it can never be carried beyond the
number of ačlual impreffions; for move any body
as a pendulum, in one way, and it \vill continue
to ofcillate in an arch of the farne circle, until
the knovvn caufes make it reft; but if after firft
putting it in motion in one direčtion, you pufh
it into another, it can never reaffume the firft
direčlion; becaufe it can never move itfelf, and
confequently it can have but the effečt of that laft
motion; whereas, if in the farne dlrečtion you
acf upon it feveral times , it vvill defcribe a greater
arch, and move a longer time.

Q2

a5 3  ON THE SUBLIM E

S E C T. XIII.

TH£ EFFECT OF SUCGESSION IN VISUAL
OBJECTS EXPLAINED.

IF we caii comprehend clearly how things operate
upon one of our fenfes, there can be very little
dif!iculty in conceiving in what rnanner they affečt
the reft. To fay a great deal therefore upon the
correfponding affeciions of every fenfe ,  would
tend rather to fatigue us by an ufelefs repetition,
than to throwany new light upon the fubject, by
tbat ample and diffufed manner of treating it ;
butaš in this difcourfe we chiefly attach ourfelves
to the fublime, as it affects the eye, we fhall
confider particularly why a fucceffive difpofition
of uniform parts in the farne right line fliould be
fublime*, and upon what principle this difpofition
is enabled to make a comparatively fmall quantity
of matter produce a grander efFe£t, than a much
larger quantity difpofed in another manner. To
avoid the perplexity of general notions - }  let us fet
* Part II. fečt. 10.

AND B E A U T I F U L.

229

before our eyes a colonnade of uniform pillars
planted in aright line; let us take our ftand in fuch
a manner, that the eye may fhoot along this
colonnade. for it has its beft effečl in this vievv. In
our prefentfituation it is plain, that the rays from
the hrft round pillar will caufe in the eye a vi-
bration of that fpecies; an image of the pillar
itfelf. The pillar immediately fucceeding increafes
it, that vvhich follows renews and enforees the
imprelfion; each in its order as it fucceeds, re-
peats impulfe after impulfe, and Uroke after
flroke, until the eye, long exercifed in one par-
ticular way, cannot lofe that obječl immediately;
and being violently roufed by this continued
agifation, it prefents the mind with a grand or
fublime conception. But inflead of vievving a
rank of uniform pillars; let us fuppofe, that they
fucceed each other, a. round and a fquare one
alternately. In this cafe the vibration caufed by
the hrft round pillar perifhes as foon as it is
formed; and one of quite another fort (the fquare)
dire£lly occupies its plače; which however it re-
figns as quickly to the round one; and thus the
eye proceeds, alternately, taking up one image,
and laying down another, as long as the building

Q 3

q 3 o  \  O N T H E S U B L I M E

continues. From whence it is obvious, that at
the laft pillar, the impreffion is as far from con-
tinuing as it was at the very firft; becaufe in
fačt, the fenfory can receive no diftintl impreffion
but from the laft ; and it can never of itfelf
refume a diftimilar impreffion : befides, every
variation of the objeti is a reft and relaxation
to the organs of light; and thefe reliefs prevent
that powerful emotion fo neceffary to produce
the fublime. To produce therefore a perfečl
grandeur in fuch things as vve have been men-
tioning, there Ihould be a perfečl fimplicity, an
abfolute uniformity in difpofitiori , fliape , and
coloring. Upon this principle of fucceffion and
uniforinity it may be afked 3  why a long bare wall
Ihould notbe a more fublime obječt than a colon-
nade; fince the fucceffion is no way interrupted;
linče the eye meets no check; fince nothing more
uniform can be conceived? A long bare wall is
certainly not fo grand an obječl as a colonnade
of the farne length and height. It is not altoge-
ther difficult to account for this difference. When
we look at a naked wall, from the evennefs of the
obječf, the eye runs along its whole fpace, and

AND BEAUTIFUL,

23l

arrives qulckly at its termination; the eye meets .
nothing which may interrupt its progrefs ; but
then it meets nothing which may detain it a
proper time to produce a very great and lafting
effečl. The view of a bare wall, if it be of a
great height and length, is undoubtedly grand:
but this is only one  idea, and not a repetition  of
fimilar  ideas; it is therefore great, not fo much
upon the principle of infmity , as upon that of
vajlncjs.  But we are not fo powerfully affečlecl
with any one impulfe, unlefs it be one of a pro-
digious force indeed, as we are with a fucceffion
of fimilar impulfes; becaufe the nerves of the
fenfory do not ( if I may ufe the exprefhon )
acquire a liabit of repeating the farne feeling in
fuch a manner as to continue it longer than its „
caufe is in a el; o n; befides, ali the effečls which
I have attributed to expe£lation and furprife in
fe£l. n. can have no plače in a bare wall^

0 .  4

23a ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. XIV.

tOCKE’S OPINION CONCERNING DARKNESS ,
CONSIDERED.

It  is Mr. Locke’s opinion, that darknefs is not
naturally an idea of terror; and that though an
exceffive light is painful to the fenfe, that the
greateft excefs of darknefs is no ways troublefome.
He obferves indeed in anodier plače, that a nurfe
or an old vvoman having once aflociated the ideas
of gholts and goblins vvith that of darknefs, night
ever after becomes painful and horrible to the
imagination, The authority of this great man is
doubtlefs as great as that of any man can be,
and it feems to ftand in the way of our general
principi e We have confidered darknefs as a
caufe of the fublime; and we have ali along
confidered the fublime as depending on fome
modification of pain or terror: fo tliat, if darknefs
be no way painful or terrible to any, who have not
had their minds early tainted with fuperflitions,

*  Part II. fed. j.

AND B E A U T I F U L. 233

it can be no fource of the fublime to them. But,
with ali deference to fuch an authorlty , it feems
to me , that an affociation of a more general nature,
an affociation vvhich takes in ali mankind, may
make darknefs terrible; for in utter darknefs, it is
impoffible to know in what degree of fafety \ve
ftand; we are ignorant of the obječls that furround
us; we may every moment ftrike againft fome
dangerous obftručlion; we may fall down a
precipice the firfl ftep we take ; and if an enemy
approach', we knownotin vvhat quarter to defend
ourfelves; in fuch a cafe ffrength is no fure pro-
tečtion ;  wifdom can only ačl by guefs ;  the boldeft
are ftaggered, and he vvho would pray for nothing
elfe tovvards his defence is forced to pray for «
Jight.

Zeu  ©«7ep, kXXs< <rv pvrca tur ytpt; vwc;

IIiaKCCV t;' oudpviv  , Sej 6' izzvat

Ev Si ®X!I KM 0XZ<7T)V.  -

As to the affociation of ghofts, goblins; furely
it is more natural to think, that darknefs, being
originally an idea of terror, was chofen as a fit
iTcene for fuch terrible reprefentations> than that

2J4 ON THE S U B L I M E

fuch  reprefentations have made darknefs terrible,
The mind of man very eafily llides into an error
of the former fort •  but it is very hard to imagine,
that the effečl of an idea fo univerfally terrible in
ali times, and in ali countries, as darknefs , could
poffibly have been owing to a fet of idle llories,
or to any caufe of a nature fo trivial, and of an
operation fo precarious.-

S E C T. XV.

•DARKNESS TERRIBLE IN ITS OWN NATURE.

Perhap  S it may appear on inquiry, that
• blacknefs and darknefs are in fome degree painful
by their natural operation, independent of any
affociations whatfoever. I muft oblerve, that the
ideas of darknefs andblacknefs aremuch the farne;
and they differ only in this, that blacknefs is a
more confined idea. Mr. Chefelden has given us
a very curious ftory of a boy, who had been
born blind,and continued fo untilhevvas thirteen'
or fourteen years old; he was then couched for a
cataradl, by which operation hereceived his fight.

AND BEAUTIFUL. q35

Among many remarkable particulars that attended
his firft perceptions and judgments on vifua]
obječts, Chefelden teliš us, that the firft time the
boy faw a hlačk obječl, it gave him great unea-
finefs; and that fome time after, upon accidentally
feeing a negro woman, he vvas ftruck with great
horror at the fight. The horror, in this cafe, can
fcarcely be fuppofed to arife from any affociation.
The boy appears by the account to have been
particularly obferving and fenhble for one of his
age; and therefore it is probable, if the great
uneafinefs he felt at the firft fight of black had
arifen from its connexion with any other difa-
greeable ideas, he would have obferved and
mentioned it. For an idea, difagreeable only by
affociation , has the caufe of its ill effeft on the
paffions evident enough at the firft impreflion;
in ordinary cafes, it is indeed frequently loft;
but this is, becaufe the original affociation was
made very early, and the confequent impreffion
repeated often. In our inftance, there was no
time for fuch a habit; and there is no reafon to
think that the ill effečls of black on his imagination
were more owing to its connexion with any

236 ON THE SUBLI M E

difagreeable ideas, than that the good effeds of
more cheerful colors were derived from their
connexion with pleafing ones. They had both
probabIy their effeds from their nato ral operation.

S E C T. XVI.

WHY DARK.NESS IS TERRIBLE.

IT may be vvorth while to examine how darknefs
can operate in fuch a manner as to caufe pain.
It is obfervable, that ftill as we recede from the
light, nature has fo contrived it, that the pupil
is enlarged by the retiring of the iris, in proportion
to our recefs. Novv, inftead of declining from it
but a little, fuppofe that we \vithdraw entirely
from the light ; it is reafonable to think, that
the contndion of the radial fibres of the iris is
proportionably greater; and that this part may
by great darhnefs corae to be fo contraded, as
to ftrain the nerves that compofe it beyond their
liatuval tone ; and by this means to produce
a painful fenfation. Such a tenfion it feem*

AND BEAUTIFUL.

QJ7

there certainly is, whilft we are involved in dark-
nefs; for in fuch a fiate, whilft the eye remains
open, there is a continual nifus to receive light;
this is manifeft from the flafiies and luminous
appearances \vhich often feem in thefe circum-
ftances to play before it; and \vhich can be no-
tliing but the effečl of fpafms, produced by its
own efforts in purfuit of its obječl; feveral other
flrong impulfes will produce the idea of light in
the eye, befides the fubftance of light itfelf, as
we experience on many occafions. Some who
allow darknefs to be a caufe of the fublime, wotild
infer, from the dilatation of the pupil, that a re-
laxation may be produclive of the fublime as tvell
as a convulfion: but they do not I believe confi-
der that although the circular ring of the iris be
in fome fenfe a fphinčler, which may poffibly be
dilated by a fimple relaxation, yet in one refpe^f
it differs from moft of the other fphinčters of the
body, that it is furniflied with antagonift mufcles,
which are the radial fibres of the iris: no fooner
does the circular mufcle begin to relax, than
thefe fibres , vvanting their counterpoife , are

238

ON THE SUBLI M E

forcibly drawn baclc, and open the pupil to a
confiderable widenefs. But though \ve were not
apprized of this, I believe any one will find, if
be opens his eyes and makes an effort to fee in
a dark plače, that a very perceivable pain enfues.
And I liave heard fome ladies remark, that after
having worked a long time upon a ground of
black, their eyes were fo pained and weakened ,
they could hardly fee. It may perhaps be ob-
ječled to this theory of tlie mechanical effedl of
darknefs, that the ill effečts of darknefs or black-
nefs feem rather mental tlian corporeal: and I
ovvn it is true, that they do fo; and fo do ali
thofe that depend on the affedtions of the finer
parts of our fyftem. The ill effečts of bad weather
appear often no otherwife, than in a melancholy
and dejeclion of fpirits; though without doubt,
in this cafe, the bodily organs fuffer fuft,  and
the mind through thefe organs.

AND BEAUTIFUL.

23g

S E C T. XVII.

THE E F F E C T S O F BLACKNESS,

BlACKNESS  k but a partial darknefs ;  and
therefore it derives fome of its powers from being
mixed and furrounded with colored bodies. In
its own nature , it cannot be confidered as a color.
Black bodies , reflefting none, or but a few rays,
with regard to fight, are but as fo many vacant
fpaces difperfed among the obječfs we view. When
the eye lights on one of thefe vacuities, after
liaving been kept in fome degree of tenfion by
the play of the adjacent colors upon it, it fud-
denly falls into a relaxation; out of which it as
fuddenly recovers by a convulfive fpring. To
illuftrate this; let us confider, that when we in-
tend to fit in a chair, and fmd it mudi lotver
than we expečled ?  the fhock is very violent;
much more violent than could be thought from
fo flight a fall as the difference between one chair
and another can poffibly make. If, after defcend-
ing a flight of flairs, we attempt inadvertently
to take another ftep in the manner of the former

240  O N T H E S U B L I M E

ones, the fliock is extremely rude and difagreeable;
and by no art can we caufe fuch a fiiock by the
farne means when we expecl and prepare for it.
When I fay that this is owing to having the
change made contrary to expečlation; I do not
mean folely, when the niind  expects. I mean
likevvife, that when any organ of fenfe is for
fome time affedled in fome one manner, if it be
fuddenly affedled othenvife , there enfues a con-
vulfive motion ; fuch a convulfion as is caufed
when any thing happens againft the expeclance
of the mind. And though it may appear ftrange
that fuch a change as produces a relaxation, lhould
immediately produce a fudden convulfion; it is
yet moft certainly fo, and fo in ali the fenfes.
EVery one knows that fleep is a relaxation ; and
that filence, where nothing keeps the organs of
hearing in ačlion, is in general fitteft to bring
on this relaxation : yet when a fort of murmuring
founds difpofe a man to fleep, let thefe founds
ceafe fuddenly, and the perfon immediately
atvakes; that is, the parts are braced up fuddenly,
and he awakes. This I 'have often experienced
smyfelf j and I have heard the farne from obferving

perfons.

AND BEAUTIFUL.

211

perfons. In like manner , if a perfon in broad
day-light were falling afleep, to introduce a fudden
darknefs, would prevent his fleep for that time,
though filence and darknefs in themfelves, and
not fuddenly introduced, are very favorable to
it. This I knew only by conječture on the analogy
of the fenfes when I fir.fl digefted thefe obferva-
tions ; btit I have Fince experienced it. And I
have often experienced, and fo have a thoufand
others , that on the hrft inclining towards lleep ,
we have been fuddenly awakened with a moft
violent Aart; and that this Aart was generally pre-
ceded by a Fort of dream of our falling down a
precipice: vvhence does this Arange motion arife,
but from the too fudden relaxation of the body,
vvhich by fome mechanifm in' nature reAores it-
felf by aš quick and vigorous an exertion of the
contračfing power of the mufcles ? The dream
itfelf is caufed by this relaxation: and it is of too
uniform a nature to be attributed to any other
caufe. The parts relax too, fuddenly, which is
in the nature of falling; and this accident of the
body induces this image in the mind. When
we are in a confirmed Aate of health and vigor,

R

242  ON THE S U B L I M E

as ali changes are then lefs fudden , and lefs on
the extreme , \ve can feldom complain of this
difagreeable fenfation.

S E C T. XVIII.

THE EFFECTS OF BLACKNESS MODEKATED.

TPhOUGH  the effecfs of black be painful origi-
nally, ve muli not think they always ccntinue
fo. Cuftom reconeiles us to every thing. After
ve have been ufed to the fight of black objecls,
the terror abates, and the fmoothnefs and glof-
fmefs or fome agreeable accident of bodies fo co-
lored, foftens in fome meafure the horror and
fternnefs of their original nature ;  yet the nature
of the original imprelfion ftill continues. Black
vili always have fomething melancholy in it, be-
caufe the. fenfory will abvays find the change to
it from other colors too violent; or if it occupy
the whole compafs of the fight,  it vili then be
darknefs ;  and vhat vas faid of darknefs vili be
applicable here. I do not purpofe to go into ali
that might be faid to illuftrate this theory of the
elfefts of light and darknefs; neither vili I examine

AND BEAUTIFUL. 243

ali the different effefts produced by the various
modifications and mixtures of thefe two caufes.
If the foregoing obfervations have any foundation
in nature, I conceive them very fufficient to ac-
count for ali the phenomena that can arife frona
ali the combinations of black with other colors.
To enter into every particular, or to anlwer every
objecliort, would be an endlefs labor. We haves
only followed the moli: leading roads ;  and vve
fhall obferve the farne condučt in our inquiry inta
the caufe of beauty.

R 2

244 ON THE S U B L I M E

S E C T. XIX.

THE PIIYSICAL CAUSE OF LOVE.

When  we have before us fuch obječls as
excite love and complacency j the body is affečled,
fo far as, I could obferve, much in the following
manner; The head reclines fomething on one hde;
the eye-lids are more clofed than ufual, and the
eyes roli gently with an inclination to the obj ecl •
the mouth is a little opened, and the breath
drawn flowly, with now and then a low figh;
the whole body is compofed, and the hands fall
idly to the fides. Ali this is accompanied with an
imvard fenfe of melting and languor. Thefe ap-
pearances are always proportioned to the degree
of beauty in the obj ecl, and of fenfibility in the
obferver. And this gradation from the highell
pitch ofbeauty and fenfibility, even to the lovvdl
of mediocrity and indifference, and their corre-
fpondent effe«Sbs , ought to be kept in view, elfe
this defcription will feem exaggerated, vvhich it
«ertainly is not. But from this defcription it is

AND BEAUTIFUL. H 5'

almoft impoffible not to eonclude, that beauty
ačis by relaxing the folicls of*the whole fyftem..
There are ali the appearances of fuch a relaxationj
and a relaxation fomewhat below the natural
tone feems to me to be the caufe of ali pohtive
pleafure. Who is a ftranger to that manner of
exprefhon fo common in ali times' and in ali
countries, of being foftened, relaxed, enervated,
dilfolved, melted away by pleafure? The uni-
verfal voice of mankind, faithful to their feeling?,
concurs in affirming this uniform and general,
effecl: and although fome odd and particukir in-
ftance may perhaps be founi, wherein there
appears a confiderable degree of pohtive pleafure,
without ali the characlers of relaxation, we mufi
not therefore reject the conclufioH we had arawn
from a concurrence of many experiments; but
we mufi ftill retain it, fubjoining the exceptions
which may occur according to the judicious rule
laid down by Sir Ifaac Newton in the third
book of his Optic?. Our pohtion will, I con*
ceive, appear confirmed beyond any reafonable
doubt, if we can lhow that fuch things as we
have already obferved to be thegenuine conftituents

R 3

245 ON THE  SUBLIME

of beauty, have each of them, feparately takem,
a natural tendency to relax the fibres. And if
it muft be allotved us, that the appearance of
the human body, vvhen ali thefe conftituents
are united together before the fenfory, further
favors this opinion, we may venture, I believe,
to conclude* that the paffion called love is pro~
duced by this relaxation. By the farne method
of reafoning which we have ufed in the inquiry
into the caufes of the fublime, we may likewife
conclude, that as a beautiful obj e61 prefented
to the fenfe, by caufmg a relaxation in the body,
produces the paffion of love in the rnind ;  fo
if by any means the paffion ffiould hrfl have
its origin in the mind, a relaxation of the out-
ward organs will as certainly enfue in a degree
proportioned to the caufe.

AND BEAUTIFUL. 447

S E C T. X X.

W H Y S M O O T H N E S S IS 15EAUTIFUL,

It  is to explain the true caufe of vifual beauty #
that I call in the afliftance of the other fenfes.
If it appears that fmoothnefs  is a principal caufe
of pleafure to the touch, tafte, fmell, and hear-
ing, it will be eaftly admitted a conflituent of
vifual beauty; efpecially as \ve have before fliown,
that this quality is found almoft vvithout excep-
tion in ali bodies that are by general confent
held beautiful. There can be no doubt that
bodies which are rough and angular, roufe and
vellicate the organs of feeiing, caufmg a fenfe of
pain, which confifts in the violent tenhon or
contra£fion of the mufcular fibres. On the con-
trary, the application of fmooth bodies relax ;
gentle flroking with a fmooth hand allays vio¬
lent pains and cramps, and relaxes the fuf-
fering parts from their unnatural tenfion; and
it has therefore very often no mean efiecf in
removing fvvellings and obftrudlions. The

R 4

a 4 8 ON  THE SUELIME

fenfe of feeling is highly gratified with fmootli
bodies. A bed linoothly laid, and foft, that is,
\vhere the refiftance is every way inconfiderable,
is a great luxury, difpofing to an univerfal relaxa-
tion, and inducing beyond any thing elfe, that
fpecies of it called fleep.

S E C T. XXI.

SWEETNESS, ITS NATURE.

N O R is it only in the touch, that fmooth
bodies caufe pofitive pleafure by relaxation. In
the fmell and tafte, we find ali things agreeable
to them, and which are commonly called fweet,
to be of a fmooth nature , and that they ali
evidently tend to relax their refpečlive fenfories.

Let us firft confider the tafte. Since it is moft

■ #

eafy to inquire into the property of 3iquids, and
fince ali things feem to want a fluid vehicle to
make them tafted at ali, I intend rather to confi¬
der the liquid than the folid parts of our food.
The vehicles of ali tafte are mater  and oil.  And
what determines the tafte is fome falt, which

AND BEADTIFUL. 249

affecls varioufly according to its nature, or its
manner of beins? combined with other things.
Water and oil, fimply confidered, are capable
ofgiving forne pleafureto the tafte. Water, when
fimple , is infipid , inodorous , colorlefs , and
frnooth, it is found when not cold  to be a great
refolver of fpafms, and lubricator of the fibres :
this power it probab!y owes to. its fmoothnefs.
For as fluidity depends, according to the moft
general opinion, on the roundnefs, fmoothnefs,
and weak cohefion of the component parts of any
body; and as water ačls merely as a fimple fluid j
it follows, that the caufe of its fluidity is likevvife
the caufe of its relaxing quality ;  namely , the
fmoothnefs and flippery texture of its parts. The
other fluid vehicle of tafles is oil.  This too , vvhen
fimple , is infipid , inodorous , colorlefs, and
fmooth to the touch and tafte. It is fmoother
than water, and in many cafes yet more relaxing.
Oil is in fome degree pleafant to the eye, the
touch, and the tafte, infipid as it is. Water is not
fo grateful; vvhich I do not knovv on what principle
to account for, other than that water is not fo foft

250 ON THE SUBLIME

and fmooth. Suppofe that to this oil or vvater
were added a certain quantity of a fpecific falt,
which had a power of putting the nervous papilla;
of the tongue into a gentle vibratory motion- as
fuppofe fugar diffolved in it. The fmoothnefs of
the oil, and the vibratory power of the falt,
caufe the fenfe we call fweetnefs. In ali fvveet
bodies, fugar, or a fubftanee very little different
from fugar, is conftantly found: every fpecies of
falt, examined by the microfcope, has its own
diftinct, regular, invariable form. That of nitre
is a pointed oblong ;  that of fea-fidt an exa& cube;
that of fugar a perfečl globe. If you have tried
how fmooth globular bodies, as the marbles with
which boys amufe themfelves, have aflecled the
touch when they are rolled backward and forward
and over one another, you vvill eafily conceive
how fvveetnefs, which confills in a falt of fuch
nature , affečts the tafte ;  for a fmgle globe, (though
fomewhat pleafant to the feeling) yet by the re-
gularity of its form, and the fomevvhat too fud-
den deviation of its parts from a right line, it is
nothing near fo pleafant to the touch as feveral
globes, vvhere the handgently rifes to one and falls

AND BEAUTIFUL.

u5i

to  another; and this pleafure is greatly increafed
if the globes are in motion, and fliding over one
another; for this foft variety prevents that \veari--
nefs, \vhich the uniform difpofition of the feveral
globes vvould otherwife prodnce. Thus in fvveet
liquors, the parts of the fiuid vehicle, though
moft probably round, are yet fo minute, as to
conceal the figure of their component parts from
the niceft inquifition of the microfcope ;  and con-
fequently being fo exceffively minute, they have
a fort of fiat fimplicity to the tafie, refembhng
the effečls of plain fmooth bodies to the touchj
for if a body be compofed of round parts excef-
fively fmall and packed pretty clofely together
the furface vvill be both to the fight and touch as
if it were nearly plain and fmooth. It is clear
from their unveiling their figure to the microf¬
cope, that the particles of fugar are confiderably
larger than thofe of vvater or oil, and confequent-
ly, that their effecls from their roundnefs vvill
be more diftinčt and palpable to the nervous
papillae of that niče organ the tongue : they
vvill induce that fenfe called fvveetnefs , vvhicii
in a vveak manner we difcover in oil, and in a

252 ON THE SUBLIME

yet weaker in water; for , ipfipid as they are ,
vvater and oil are in fome degree fvveet; and it
may be obferved, that-infipid things of ali kinds
approach more nearly to the nature of fvveetnefi
tkan tQ that of any other tafte.

S E C T. XXII.

SWEETNESS RELAXING.

IN  the otlier fenfes we have remarked, that
fmooth things are relaxing. Novv it ought to appear
that fvveet things, which are the fmooth of tafte ,
are relaxing too. It is remarkable, that in fome
languages foft and fvveet have but one name. Doux
in Frencli fignifies foft as well as fvveet. The Latin
Dulcis,  and the Italian Dolce , have in many cafes
the farne double fignification. That fvveet things
are generally relaxing, is evident ■  becaufe ali
luch, efpecially thofe whieh are moft oily ,
taken frequently or in a large quantity, very
mudi enfeeble the tone of the ftomach. Svveet
fmells, vvhich bear a great affmity to fvveet taftes,
relax very remarkably. The fmell of ftowers dif-

AND BEAUTIFULs

S 53

pofes people to drotvfinefs; and this relaxing
effečl is further apparent from the prejudice
which people of weak nerves receive from their
ufe. It were worth vvhile to examine, vvhether
taftes of this kind, fweet ones, taftes that are
caufed by fmooth oils and a relaxing falt, are not
the originally pleafant taftes. For many, which
ufe has rendered fuch, were not at ali agreeable
at ftrft. The way to examine this is, to try what
nature has drigirially provided for us, which flie
has undoubtedly made Originally pleafant; and to
analyže this provilion. Milk  is the ftrft fupport of
our childhood. The component parts of this are
vvater, oil, and a fort of a very fweet falt, called
the fugar of milk. Ali thefe when blended have
a great fmoothnefs  to the tafte, and a relaxing
quality to the fkin. The riext thing children covet
is fruit , and of fruits thofe principally \vhich are
fvveet ;  and every one knows that the fvveetnefs
of fruit is caufed by a fubtile oil, and fuch a falt
as that mentioned in the laft feCtion. Afterwards,
cuftom , habit , the deftre of novelty, and a
thoufand other caufes, confound, adulterate, and
change our palates, fo that \ve can nolonger reafon

with any fatisfačtion about them. Before we qnit
this article, \ve muli obferve, that as fmooth
things are, asfuch, agreeable to the tafte, and are
found of a relaxing quality; fo, on the other
hand, things which are found by experience to
be of a ftrengthening quality, and fit to brace
the fibres , are almoft univerfally rough and
pungent to the tafte, and in many cafes rough
even to the touch. We often apply the quality
of fweetnefs, metaphoricaUy, to vifual obječfs.
For the better carrying on this remarkable analogy
of the fenfes, we may here call fvveetnefs the
beautiful of the tafte.

AND BEAUTIFUt.

255

S E C T. XXIII.

VARIATION, WHY BEAUTIFUI.

A NOT H ER principal property of beautiful
obječts is, that the line of their parts is continually
Varying its direčlion; but it varies it by a very
infenfible deviation; it never varies it fo quickly
as to furprife, or by the fharpnefs of its angle to
caufe any tvritching or convulfion of the optic
nerve. Nothing long rontinued in the farne
manner, nothing very fuddenly varied, can be
beautiful j becaufe both are oppofite to that
agreeable relaxation which is the charačleriftic eifecl
of beauty. It is thus in ali the fenfes. A motion in
a right line, is that manner of moving next to a
very gentle defcent, in vvhich vve meet the leaft
refiftance; yet it is not that manner of moving,
which, next to a defcent, \vearies us the leafh Reft
certainly tends to relax: yet there is a fpecies of
motion which relaxes more than reft; a gentle
ofcillatory motion, a rifingand falling. Rocking fets
children to fleep better than abfolute reft; there is

2 56  ON THE SU BL I M E

indeed fcarce any thing at that age, which gives
more pleafure than to be gently lifted up and
do\vn; the manner of playing vvhich their nurfes
ufe with children, and the vveighing and fvvinging
ufed afterrvards by themfelves as a favorite amufe-
toent, evince this very fufhciently. Moft people
muft have obferved the fort of fenfe they have
had, on being fwiftly dravvn in an eafy eoach
on a fmooth turf, with gradual afcents and de-
clivities; This will give a better idea of the
beautiful, and point out its probable caufe better,
than ahnoft any thing elfe. On the contrary,
vvhen one is hurried over a rough, rocky, broken
road, the pain felt by thefe fudden inequalitie«
fliows why fimilar fights, feelings, and founds,
are fo contrary to beauty: and with regard to
the feeling, it is exačlly the farne in its effečl,
or very nearly the farne, vvhether, for inftance,
I move my hand along the furface of a body of
a certain fhape, or whether fuch a body is mov-
ed along my hand. But to bring this analogy
of the fenfes home to the eye: if a body prefent-
ed to that fenfe has fuch a waving furface, that
the rays of light reflected from it are in a

continual

AND B E A TJ T I F U L.

25 ?

contimial infenfible deviation from tli c flrongeft
to the \veakeft ( \vhich is always the cafe in a
furface gradually unequal), it mufi be exači!y
fimilar in its effečt on the eye and touch ;  upon
the one of which it operates direčlly, on the
other indireclh/. And this body will be beautiful
if the lines which compofe its furface are not
continued, even fo varied, in a manner that
may weary or difhpate tire attention. The varia->
tion itfelf mufi be continually varied.

S E C T. XXIV.

CONCERNING SMAUNESS,

T O avoid a famenefs, which nray arife from
the too frequent repetition of the farne reafon-
ings, and of illuftrations of the farne nature, I
will not enter very minutely into every particu-
lar that regards beauty, as it is founded on the
difpofition of its quantity, or its quantity itfelf.
In fpeaking of the magnitude of bodies there is
great uncertainty, becaufe tlie ideas of great and
fmall are terms almoft entirely relative to the
fpecies of the obječts, which are infmite. It is

S

2 58 ON THE SUBLI M E

true, that having once fixed the fpecies of ;my
objeft, and the dimenfions common in the in->
dividuals of that fpecies, we may obferve fome
that exceed, and fome that fall ihort of, the or-
dinary ftandard: thofe which greatly exceed, are
by that excefs, provided the fpecies itfelf be not
Very fmall, rather great and terrible than beau-
tiful; but as in the animal wor!d , and in a good
meafure in the vegetable world likeivife , the
qualities that conftitute beautv may poffibly be
nnited to things of greater dimenfions; when they
are fo United, they conftitute a fpecies fomething
different both from the fublime and beautiful,
vvhich I have before called Fine;  but this hind,
I imagine, has not fuch a povver on the paftions,
either as vaft bodies have which are endued with
the correfpondent qualities of the fublime; or
as the qualities of beauty have when united in
a fmall objecl. The alTeclion produced by large
bodies adorned with the fpoils of beauty, is a
tenfion continually relieved ; which approaches
to the nature of mediocrity. But if I were to
fay hovv I fmd myfelf affcčied upon fuch occafions,

I fliould fay, that the fublime fuffers lefs by

AND BEAUTIFUL.

209

being United to fome of tbe qualities of beauty,
than beauty does by being joined to greatnefs
of quantity, or any other properties of the
fublime. There is fomething fo over-ruling in
vvhatever infpires us with awe , in ali things
vvhich belong ever fo remotely to terror, that
nothing elfe can fland in their prefence. There
lie the qualities of beauty either dead and uno-
perative; or at moft exerted to mollify the rigor
and fternnefs of the terror, which is the natural
concomitant of greatnefs. Befides the extraordi«
nary great in every fpecies, the oppofite to this,
the dvvarfifh and diminutive ought to be con-
fidered. Littlenefs, merely as fuch, has nothing
contrary to the idea of beauty. The humming-
bird , both in fhape and coloring , yields to
none of the vvinged fpecies, of vvhich it is the
leaftj and perhaps his beauty is enhanced by
his fmallnefs. But there are animals, vvhich vvhen
they are extremely fmall are rarely ( if ever)
beautiful. There is a dvvarfifh fize of men and
vvomen, vvhich is almoft conftantly fo grofs and
maffive in comparifon of their height, that they
prefent us vvith a very difagreeable image.

S a

-260 ON THE S U B L I M E

But fhould a man be found not above two cr
three feet high , fuppofing fuch a perfon to
have ali the parts of his body of a delicacy fuit-
nble .to fuch a fize, and othervvife endued with
the common qualities of other beautiful bodies,
I am pretty well convinced that a perfon of
fuch a ftature might be confidered as beautiful;
might be the object of love; might give us very
pleafmg ideas on viewing him. The only thing
vvhich could poffibly interpofe to check our
pleafure is, that fuch creatures, however for-
med , are unufual , and are often therefore
confidered as fomething monftrous. The large
and gigantic, though very compatible with the
fublime, is contrary to the beautiful. It is im-
poffible to fuppofe a giant the objedt of love.
When \ve let our imagination loofe in romance,
the ideas we naturally annex to that fize are
thofe of tyranny, cruelty, injuflice, and every
thing horrid and abominable. We paint the giant
ravaging the country, plundering the innocenttra-
veller, and afterwards gorged with his half-living
flelli: fuch are Polyphemus, Cacus, and others, who
make fo gfeat a figure in romances and heroic poems.

AND BEAUTIFUL 361

The event we attend to with the greateft fatif-

fadtion is their defeat and death. I do not re-

member , in ali that multitude of deaths with

which the Iliad is filled, that the fall of any man

remarkable for his great ftature and ftrength touches

us with pity j nor does it appear that the autlior,

fo well read in human nature, ever intended it

1

Ihould. It is Simoifius , in the foft bloom of
youth, torn from his parents, who tremble for
a courage fo ill fuited to his ftrength ; it is
another hurried by Avar from the new em-
braces of his bride , young, and fair , and
a novice to the field , vvho melts us by
his untimely fate. Achilles, in fpite of the many
qualities of beauty , which Homer has be-
ftowed on his outvvard form, and the many great
virtues Avith Avhich he has adorned his mind,
can never make us love him. It may be obferved,
that Homer has given the Trojans, whofe fate he
has defigned to excite our compaffion, infinitely
more of the amiable focial virtues than he has
diflributed among his Greeks. With regard to
the Trojans, the paffion he chufes to raife is
pity; pity is a paffion founded on love; and
thefe lejfer , and if I may fay domeftic vir-

S 3

262 ON THE SUBLI ME

tues , are certainly the moft amiable. But
he has made the Greeks far their fuperiors in
politic and military virtues. The councils of
Priam are weak ;  the arrns of Hečtor , cora-
paratively feeble ; his courage far belovv tliat
of Achilles. Yet we love Priam more than Aga¬
memnon , and Hečlor more than his conqueror
Achilles. Admiration is the paffion which Homer
\vould excite in favor of the Greeks, and he has
done it by beftowing on them the virtues which
have but little to do with love. This lhort di-
grelhonfis perhaps not wholly befide our purpofe,
where our bufmefs is to lhow , tliat objebls of
great dimenfions are incompatible with beauty ,
the more incompatible as they are greater; vvhereas
the fmall, if ever they fail of beauty, this failure
is not to be attributed to their fize.

AND BEAUTIF U L. a63
S E C T. X X V T.

almoft infinite; but I coneeive the principles laid
down in the begirming of this part are fufficirnt
to account for the effečis of them ali, as well as
for the agreeable effečts of tranfparent bodies ,
whether fluid or folid. Suppofe I look at a bottle
of muddy liquor, of a blue or red color: the
blue or red rays cannot pafs clearly to the eye,
but are fuddenly and unequally flopped by the
intervention of little opaque bodies, rvhich \vith-*
out preparation change the idea , and change it
too into one difagreeable in its own nature, con-
formable to the principles laid down in fečh 24 .
But when the ray paffes without fuch oppofition
through tlie glafs or liquor, when the glafs or
liquor are quite tranfparent, the liglat is fomething
foftened in the palfage , which makes it more
agreeable even as Iight • and the liquor reflečfing
ali the rays of its proper color evenly , it has fuch

o F COLOR.

S  4

/

264 ON THE SUBLIME, &c.

an effečf on the eye, as fmooth opaque bodies
ha ve 011 the eye and touch. So that the pleafure
here is compounded of the foftnefs of the tranf-
mitted and the evennefs of the reflečted light.
This pleafure may be lieightened by the common
principles in other tliings, if the fhape of the glafs
which holds the tranfparent liquor be fo judi-
cioufly varied , as to prefent the color gradually
and interchangeably \veakened and ftrengthened
\vith ali the variety \vhich judgment in affairs of
this nature fliall fuggeft. On a revi e w of ali tliat
has been faid of the effedls, as well as the caufes
of both , it will appear, tliat the fublime and
beautiful are built on principles very different,
and that their affections are as different: the great
has terror for its bafis •  \vhieh , when it is modi-
fied, caufes that emotion in the mind, vvhicli I
have callecl aftoniihment; the beautiful is founded
on mere pofitive pleafure, and excites in the
foni that fecling, which is called love. Their
caufes have made the fubjecl of this fourtli part.

THE END OF THE FOURTH PART.

A

PHILOSOPHICAL INQ,UIRY

I. K T O THE

ORI G IN OF O U R IDEAS

O E THE

SUBLIME AND BE AUTIFUL.

PART  V.

S E C T. i:

O F W O R D S.

N AT U R A L obječls affečl us, by the laws of
that connexion, vvhich Providence has eftablifhed
'between certain motions and configurations of
bodies, and certain confequent feelings in our
mind. Painting affečls in the farne manner ;  but
with the fuperadded pleafure of imitation. Archi-
tečlure affečls by the laws of nature , and the law

266  ON THE SUBLIME

of reafon; from which latter refult the rules of
proportion, which make a work to be praifed
or cenfured, in the vvhole or in fome part, when
the end for vvhich it vvas dehgned is or is not
properly anfvvered. But as to words; they feem
to me to affedt us in a manner very different
from that in vvhich we are affečtcd by natural
objects, or by painting or architefture • yet vvords
have as confiderable a Bure in exciting ideas of
beauty and of the fublime as any of thofe, and
fometimes a much greater than any of them;
therefore an inquiry into the manner by vvhich
they excite fuch emotions is far from being un-
neceffary in a difcourfe of this kind.

AND BEAUTIFUL. 26;

S E C T. II.

THE COMMON EFFECT OF FO£TKY, NOT BY
RAISING IDEAS OF THINGS.

1  HE common notion of the power of poetry
and eioquence, as well as that of words in ordinary
converfation, is, that they affečl the mind by
raifing in it ideas of thofe things for vvhieh cuftom
has appointed them to ftarid. To exaraine tlie
truth of this notion, it may be requifite to
obferve that words may be divided into fhree
forts. The firft are fuch as reprefent many fimple
ideas United by nature  to form fome one determinate
compofition, as man, horfe, tree, caftle, &c.
Tirefe I call aggregate vvords.  The fecond, are
they that ftand for one fimple idea of fuch
compofitions, and no more; as red, blue, round,
fquare, and the like. Thefe I call fimple abfračt
words. The third, are thofe, which are formed
by an union, an arbitrary  union of both the
others, and of the various relations between them
in greater or leffer degrees of complexity; as,
virtue, honor, perfuafion , magiftrate; and the

2 68 ON THE SUBLIM E

like. Thefe I call compound abjlračl  words. Words,
I am fenfible, are capable of being claffed into
more curious diftinčlions; but thefe feem to be
natural, and enough for our purpofe; and they
are difpofed in that order in which they are
commonly taught, and in which the mind gets
the ideas they are fubflituted for. I fliall begin
with the third fort of vvords; compound abftračts,
fuch as virtue , honor , perfuafion , docility. Of
thefe I am convinced , that whatever po\ver they
may liave on the paffions, they do not derive it
from any reprefentation raifed in the mind of the
things for vvhich they ftand. As compofitions ,
they are not real effences, and hardly caufe, I
think, any real ideas. Nobody, I believe, irame-
diately on hearing the founds, virtue, liberty,
or honor, conceives any precife notions of the
particular modes of ačlion and thinking, together
\vith the mixt and fnnple ideas, and the feveral
relations of them for which thefe \vords are fub¬
flituted ; ueither has he any general idea,
compounded of them; for if he had, then fome
of thofe particular ones , though indiftin£l
perhaps , and confufed, might come foon to

AND BEAUTIFUL 269

be perceived. But this , I take it , is hardly
ever the cafe. For put yourfelf upon analyzing
one of thefe words, and you mufi reduce it from
one fet of general words to another, and then
into the fimple abftračfs and aggregates, in a much
longer feries than may be at firft imagined, before
any real idea emerges to light, before you come
to difcover any thing like the hrlt principles of
fuch compofitions ; and when you have made
fuch a difcovery of the original ideas, the effeft
of the compofition is utterly loft. A train of thin-
king of this fort, is much too long to be purfued
in the ordinary ways of converfation, nor is it at
ali neceffary that it fliould. Such words are in
reality but mere founds; but they are founds,
■vvhich being ufed on particular occafions, wherein
we receive fome good, or fuffer fome evil; or fee
others affečled with good or evil; or which we
hear applied to other intereflingthings or events;
and being applied in fuch a variety of cafes, that
we knovv readily by habit to what things they
belong, they produce in the mind, \vhenever
they are afterwards mentioned, effecSls fimilar to

270

ON THE S U B L I M E

tliofe of their occafions. The founds being often
ufed without reference to any particular occafion,
and carrying Rili their firft imprefiions, they at
laft utterly lofe their connexion vvith the particu¬
lar occafions that gave rife to them ■,  yet the found,
without any annexed notion, continues to operate
as before.

S E C T. III.

GENERAL W O R D S BEFORE IDE A S.

M R. Locke has fomevvhere obferved, vvith his
tifual fagacity , that moli general words, thofe
belonging to virtue and vice, good and evil, efpe-
cially, are taught before the particular modes of
ačlion to wliich they belong are prefented to the
mind,- and with them, the love of the one, and
the abhorrence of the other; for the minds of
children arefo duclile, that a nurfe, or any perfon
about a child, by feeming pleafed or difpleafed
with any thing, or even any word, may give the
difpofition of the child a fimilar tura. When
afterwards, the feveral occurrences in life come
to be applied to thefe vvords, and that vvhich is

AND BEAUTIFUL.

271

pleafant often appears under the name of evil;
and what is difagreeable to nature is calAd good
and virtuous; a ftrange confufion of ideas and
affečlions arifes in the minds of many ;  and an
appearance of no fmall contradičlion between
their notions and their ačiions. There are many
\vho love virtue and who deteft vice, and this
not from hypocrify or aflectation, who notwith-
ffanding very frequently a čl ill and wickedly in
particulars \vithout tlic lcaft rtnaTorfef becaufe thefe
particnlar occafions never came into view, when
the paffions on the fide of virtue were fo \varmly
afiečted by certain words heated originally hy the
breath of others; and for this reafon, it is hard
to repeat certain fets of words, though ownedby
themfelves unoperative without being in fome
degree affečled, efpecially if a warm and affettmg
tone of voice accofnpanies them, as fuppofe.

IVife, v ali ant, generous, good , and gr e at.

Thefe words, by having no application, ought
to be unoperative ; but when words commonly
facred to great occafions are ufed, we are affečled by

272  O N T H E S U B L I M E

i

them even \vithout the occafions. When words
vvhich have been generally fo applied are put
together without any rational view, or in fucb a
jnanner that they do not rightly agree with each
other, the ftyle is called bombaft. And it requires
in feveral cafes much good fenfe and experience
to be guarded againft the force of fuch language;
for when propriety is neglečled, a greater number
of thefe affečfing words may be taken into the
fervice, and a greater variety may be indulged
in combining them.

S E C T. IV.

THE E F F E C T OF W O R D S.

If  words have ali their poffible extent of power;
three effečts arife in tlie mind of the hearer. The
firft is, the found;  the fecond, tlie pičlure , or
reprefentation of the thing fignified by the found:
the third is, the ajfečlion  of the foul produced by
one or by both of the foregoing. Compounded
abjirači  words, of which we have been fpeak-

ing, ( honor , juhice, liberty, and the like),

produce

AND BEAUTIFUL

273

produce the firft and the laft of thefe effe&s,
but not the fecond. Simple abJlraSls , are ufed
to fignify fome one fimple idea vvithout much
adverting to others which may chance to attend
it, as blue, green, hot, cold, and the like5
thefe are .capable of affečling ali three of the pur-
pofes of words ;  as the aggregate  vvords, man,
caftle, horfe, & c. are in a yet higher degree.
But I am of opinion, that the moft general effečl
even of thefe words, does not anfe from their
forming pictures of the feveral things they would
reprefent in the imagination; becaufe, on a very
diligent examination of my own mind, and get-
ting others to conhder theirs, I do not find that
once in twenty times any fuch pidture is formed,
and when it is, there is moft commonly a par-
ticular effort of the imagination for that purpofe.
But the aggregate words operate, as I faid of
the compound abftračls, not by prefenting any
image to the mind, but by having from ufe
the farne eifečt on being mentioned, that their
original has when it is feen. Suppofe we were
to read a paffage to this effečl: “ The river
Danube nfes in a moift and mountainous foil

T

274 ON THE S U B L I M E

in the heart of Germany, where vvinding to
and fro , it waters feveral principalities , until,
turning into Auftria, and laving the walls of Vien-
na, it paffes into Hungary; there v/ith a vaflflood,
augmented by the Saave and the Drave, it quits
Chriftendom, and rolljng through the barbarous
dountries which border on Tartary, it enters by
jnany mouths into the Black fea. ” In this de-
fcription many things are mentioned, as momv-
tains, rivers, cities, the fea, &c. But letanybody
examine himfelf, and fee whether he has had
impreffed on his imagination any pičlures of a
river , mountain , watery foil , Germany, &c.
Indeed it is impoffible, in the rapidity and quick
fucceffion of^vvords in converfation, to have ideas
both of the found of the word, and of the thing
reprefented, befides, fome words, exprefhng real
effences, are fo mixed with others of a general
and nominal impori, that it is irnpračlicable to
jump from fenfe to thought, from particulars to
generals, from things to vvords, in fuch a manner
as to anfwerthe purpofes of lifej nor is it neceffary
that we Ihould.

AND BEAUTIFUL. 275

S E C T. V.

£XAMPLFS that words may affect

WITHOUT RAISING IMAGES.

I Find it very hard to perfuade feveral that their
pafRons are affečled by words from whence they
have no ideas; and yet harder to convince them,
that in the ordinary courfe of converfation we
are fufficiently underftood vvithout raifing any
images of the things concerning which we fpeak.
It feems to be an odd fubječl of difpute vvith any
man, whether he has ideas in his mind or not*
Of this, at firft view , every man, in his own
forum , ought to judge without appeal. But,
ftrange as it may appear, we are often at a lofa
to know what ideas we have of things, or vvhether
we have any ideas at ali upon fome fubjeft. It
even requires a good deal of attention to be tho-
roughly fatisfied on this head. Since I wrote thefe
papers, I found two very ftriking inftances of the
poffibility there is, that a man may hear word*
vvithout having any idea of the things which they

T 2

s?6 O N TKE S U B L I M E

reprefent, and yet afterwards be capable of re-
turning thern to others, combined in a nevv way,
andwith great propriety, energy, and inftručlion.
The firft inftance, is that of Mr. Rlacklock, a
poet blind from his birth. Few men bleffed
with the moft perfečt fight can defcribe vifual
obječts with more fpirit and juftnefš than this
blind man; which cannot poffibly be attributed
to his having a clearer conception of the things
he deicribes than is common to other perfons.
Mr. Spence, in an elegant preface which he has
written to the works of this poet, reafons very
ingenioufly, and, I imagine, for the moft part,
very riglitly, upon the caufe of this extraordinary
phenomenon; but I cannot altogether agree with
him , that fome improprieties in language and
thought, which occur in thefepoems, have arifen
from the blind poet’s imperfečl conception of
vifual objects, fince fuch improprieties, and rnuch
. greater, may be found in writers even of a higher
clafs than Mr. Blacklock, and who notvvitliftand-
ing poffelfed the faculty of feeing in its full
perfečfion. Here is a poet doubtlefs as much
aflečied by his ovvn defcriptions as any that reads

AND B E A U T I F U L.

VI

them can be; and yet he is afFected with this
fh'ong enthufiafm by things of which he neither
has, nor can poffibly have any idea further than
that of a bare found : and why may not thofe
who read his vvorks be affefted in the farne manner
that he was, with as little of any real ideas of the
things defcribed ? The fecond inftance is of Mr.

in the uni**

verhty of Cambridge. This learned man hacf
acquired great knowledge in natural philofophy,
in aftronomy, and vvrhatever fciences depend upon
mathematical fkill. What was the moli extraor-
dinary and the moft to my purpofe, he gave
excellent lečlures upon light and colors ;  and
this man taught others the theory of thofe ideas
which they had, and which he himfelf undoubt-
edly had not. But it is probable that the words
red, Mue, green , anfwered to him as well as the
ideas of the colors tliemfelves, for the ideas of
greater or lelfer degrees of refrangibility being
applied to thefe words, and the blind man being
inftručted in what other refpečls they were found
to agree or to difagree, it was as eafy for him
to reafon upon the words, as if he had been

t 3

Saunderfon, profeffor of mathematics

278 ON THE SUBLIME

fully mafter of the ideas. Indeed it muft be
o\vned he could make no ne\v difcoveries in the
way of experiment. He did nothing but what
we do every day in common difcourfe. When I
wrote this laft fentence, and ufed the words
every day  and common difcourfe , I had no images
in my mind of any fucceffion of time; nor of men
^in conference with each other; nor do I imagine
that the reader vvill have any fuch ideas on reading
it. Neither when I fpoke of red, or blue and
green , as well as refrangibility, had I thefe feveral
colors, or the rays of light pafiing into a different
medium, and there diverted from their courfe,
painted before me in the way of images. I hnow
very well that the mind poffeffes a faculty of
raifing fuch images at pleafure; but then an a čl of
the will is neceffary to this ; and in ordinary
converfation or reading it is very rarely that any
image at ali is exc.ited in the mind. If I fay “  I
fhall go to. Italy next fummer, ” I am well un-
derftood. Yet I believe nobody has by this
painted in his imagination the exa£f figure of the
fpeaker pahing by land or by vvater, or both;
fometimes on horfeback, fometimes in a carriage •

AND BEAUTIFUL.

279

•\vit]i ali the particulars of the ]ourney. Stili lefs
h as he any idea of Italy, the country to which
I propofed to go; or of the greennefs of the
fields, the ripening ofthefruits, and the vvarmth
of the air,  with the change to this froin a
different feafon, vvhieh are the ideas for which
the word fummer  is fubftituted; but leaft of ali
has he any image front the word next;  for this
tvorrl ftands for the idea of many fammers, with
the exclufion of ali but one : and furely the
man who fays next fummer , has no images of
fuch a fuccefhon , and fuch an excluflon. In
fliort, it is not only of thofe ideas which are
commonly called abflracl , and of vvhieh no
image at ali can be formed, but even of par-
.ticular real beings , that we converfe \vithout
having any idea of thenr excited in the imagi-
nation ; as will certainly appear on a diligent

examination of our own minds. Indeed, fo little

#

does poetry depend for its eflect on the power
of raifing fenfible images, that I am oonvinced
it would lofe a very confiderable part of its
energy if this vvere the neceflary refult of ali de-
feription. Becaufe that union of affečling words,

T 4

2 So ON THE S U B L I M E

which is the mofl powerful of ali poetical in-

I

ftruments, would frequently lofe its force along
with its propriety and confdtency, if the lenfible
images \vere always excited. There is not per-
haps in the whole Eneid a more grand and la-
bored paffage than the defcription of Vulcans
cavern in Etna, and the works that are there
carried on. Virgil dwells particularly on the for-
ination of the thunder, vvhich he defcribes un-
finifhed under the hammers of the Cyclops. But
vvhat are the principles of this extraordinary
compofition ?

Tres imbris torti radios , tres nubis aquofcs
Addidcrant , rutili tres ignis  , et alitis aujfri.
Fulgores nune lerrificos , fonitumque , mctumque
Mijcebant operi, flammifqueJequacibus iras.

This feems to me admirably lublime; yet if we
attend coolly to the kind of fenfible images which
a combination of ideas oTthis fort rnuft form,
the chimeras of madmen eannot appear more
wild and abfurd than fuch a pifture. “ Three
“ rays of tvvifed fhowers , three oj watery clouds,
“ three offre, and three of the ivinged fouth wind;

AND B E A U T I F U L. 581

then mixed lhey in the worh terrific lightningi,
“ and found , and fear, and anger, vvlth purfuing
“ flames.  ” This ftrange compofition is formed
into a grofs body; it is hammered by the Cyclops,
it is in part polifhed, and partly continues rough.
The truth is, if poetry gives us a noble alfem-
blage of vvords, correfponding to many noble
ideas, vvhich are ■ connečied by circumftances of
time or plače, or rekted to each other as caufe
and effečt, or affociated in any natural vvay, they
may be moulded together in any form, and per-
fečlly anfwer their end. The piclurefcjne connec-
tion is not demanded; becaufe no real pičlure
is formed; nor is the effečt of the defcription at
ali the lefs upon this account. What is faid of
Helen by Priam and the old men of his coun-
cil, is generally thought to give us the highefl
poffible idea of that fatal beauty.

Ov vsutiri ;,  Tfto«; v.ou  A

Tcm yj ovov akyzx •nx<j(t i»'

Aivoj;  o & zr L z  £<; bj«; šoijcs*.

They cry d , no wonder fuch celejlial charms
For nine longyears have fet the morld in arms ;
What winning graces! what maje/lic mien!

She moves a goddefs, andJhe looks a queen.  Pope.

2Š2 ON THE SUBLIME

Here is not one word faicj of the particulars of
her Beauty; nothing which can in the leaft help
us to any precife idea of her perfon; but yet \ve
are much more touched by this manner of men-
tioning her than by thofe long and labored de-
fcriptions of Helen , whether handed down by
tradition, or formed by fancy, which are to be
met \vith in fome authors. I am fure it affečts
me much more than the minute defeription
which Spencer has given of' Belphebe; though
I own that there are parts in that. defeription, as
there are in al-1 the deferiptions of that excellent
tvriter, extremely fine and poetical. The ter-
rible pic tir r e which Lucretius has drawn of Re-
ligion, in order to difplay the magnanimity of
his philofophical hero in oppofmg Iier , is thought
to be defigned with great boldnefs and fpiritj

Humana ante oculos /cede cimi vita jaceret
In ter ris opprejfa gravi Jub religione,

Qiuz caput a cedi regionibus ojiendebat
Horribili defuper vifu mortalibus injians ;

Primus Graius komo mortales lollere contra
E/l oculos aufus.  ■ ■—»

AND BEAUTIFUL. «83

What idea do you derive from fo excellent a
piclure ? none at ali, moft certainly; neither ha$
the poet faid a fingle word which might in the
leaft ferve to mark , a fingle limb or feature of
the phantom, rvhich he intended to reprefent in
ali the horrors imagination can conceive. In
reahty poetry and rhetoric do not fucceed in exadl
defpription fo well as painting does; their bufmefs
is, to affečl rather by fympathy than imitation ;
to difplay rather the effecl of things on the mind.
of the fpeaker, or of others, than to prefent a
clear idea of the things themfelves. This, is their
mofl extenfive province, and tirat in which they
fucceed the beft.

aS 4  ON THE SUBLIME

S E C T. VI.

POETRY NOT STRICTLY AN IMITATIVE ART.

H E N C E we may obferve that poetry, taken
in its moft general fenfe, cannot with ftričt pro-
priety be called an art of imitation. It is indeed
an imitation fo far as it defcribes the manners
and paffions of men which their words can exprefs ;
vvhere animi motus effert-interprete lingua.  There it
is ftričlly imitation j  and ali merely dramatic
poetry is of this fort. But defcripdve  poetry operates
chiefly by fubjlitution ;  by the means of founds ,
which by cultom have the effeft of realities.
Nothing is an imitation further than as it refembles
fome other thing; and words undoubtedly have
no fort of refemblance to the ideas for which
they Band.

AND BEAUTIFUL. 285

S E C T. VIL

HOW VVORDS INFLUENCE THE PASSIONS.

N O W, as words affečf, not by any original
power, but by reprefentation, it might be fup-
pofed, that their influence over the paflions fliould
be but light; yet it is quite otherwife; for we
find by experience that eloquence and poetry
are as capable; nay indeed much more capable 9
of making deep and lively impreflions than any
other arts, and even than nature itfelf in very
many cafes. And this arifes chiefly from thefe
three caufes. Firft, that we take an extraordinary
part in the paflions of others, and that we are
eafily aflected and brought into fympathy by any
tokens which are iliovvn of them j and there are
no tokens which can exprefs ali the circumftances
of moft paflions fo fully as words; fo that if a
perfon fpeaks upon any fubjeft, he can not only
convey the fubje£l to you, but likewife the
manner in \vhich he is himfelf affečled by it.
Certain it is, that the influence of moli: things

2 S6 ON THE SUBLIME

on our paflions is not fo much from the things
themfelves, as froin our opinions concerning
them ; and thefe again depend very much on the
opinions of otlier men, conveyable for the moft
part by words only. Secondly, there are many
things of a very affe&ing nature, which can
feldom occur in the reality, but the words which
jreprefent them often do; and thus they have an
opportunitv of making a deep impreffion and
taking root in the mind, whilft the idea of ths
reality was tranfient; and to fome perhaps never
really occurred in any fhape, whom it it
notvvithftanding very affečfing, as war, death,
famine, &c. Befides, many ideas have never been
at ali prefented to the fenfes of any men but by
words, as God, angels, devils, heaven, and
hell, ali of which have however a great influence
over the paflions. Thirdly, by words we have
it in our power to make fuch combinations  ag
we cannot poffibly do otherwife. :  By this power
of combining we are able, by the addition of
\vell-chofen circumffances , to give a new life and
force to the fimple objeli In painting we may

AND BEAUTIFUL. 287

reprefent any fine figure we pleafe; but we never
can give it thofe enlivening touches which it may
receive from words. To reprefent an angel in a
pifiiure , you can only draw a beautiful young
man vvinged: but what painting can furnilh out
any thing fo grand as the addition of one \vord ,
“ the angel of the LordP  ” It is true, I have here

no clear idea: but thefe words affe£l the mind

*

more than the fenfible image did ;  which is ali
I contend fon A pičfure of Priam dragged to
the altars foot, and there murdered, if it were
well executed , would undoubtedly be very
moving; but there are very aggravating circum-
ftances, which it could never reprefent:

Sanguine fcedentem  quos ipfe facraverat ignes.

As a further inftance, let us confider thofe lines
of Milton, where he defcribes the travels of the
fallen angels through their difmal habitationj

— Through many a dark and dreary vale
They pafs’d, and many a region dolorous  5

388 ON THE S U B L I M E

O'er many a frozen , many a fiery Alp;

Rocks, caves, lakes,fens, bogs, dens, and
Jhades of death ,

A univerfe of death.

Here is difplayed the force of union in

Rocks, caves, lakes, dens , bogs ,fens , and Jhades ;

which yet \vould lofe the greateft part of the
effečl, if they were not the

Rocks, caves, lakes , dens, bogs ,fens, and Jhades —
— of  Death.

The idea or this affedtion caufed by a word,

tvhich nothing but a word could annex to the

others , raifes a very great degree of the fublime;

and this fublime is raifed yet higher by \vhat

follows , a “ univerfe oj’ Death.  ” Here are

again two ideas not prefentable but by lan-

guage; and an union of them great and amazing

beyond conception; if they may properly be

called ideas which prefent no diftinct image

to the mind : — but ftill it will be difficult to

conceive how words can move the pafiions vvhich

belong to real obječls , vvithout reprefenting

thefe obječls clearly. This is difficult to us ,

becaufe

AND BEAUTIFUL. 289

becaufe we do not fufficientlv diftinguifh, in our
obfertations upon language, between a clear
expref!ion, and a ftrong expreffion. Thefe are
frequently confounded with each other, though
they are inreality extremely diiTerent. The form er
regards the underftanding; the latter belongs to
the paffions. The one defcribes a thing as it is : the
other defcribes it as it is felt. Now, as there is a
moving tone of voice, an impaffioned countenance,
an agitated gefture, which affecl independently
of the things about which they ate exerted, fo there
are words, and certain difpolitions of words j
wliich being peculiarly devoted to pafllonate
fubječts, and always ufed by thofe who are under
the influence of any palhon, touch and move us
more than thofe which far more clearly and
diftinctly exprefs the fubjecl matter. We yield to
fympathy \vhat we refufe to defcription. The truth
is, ali verbal defcription , merely as naked defcrip¬
tion , though never fo exact, conveys fo poor and
infufficient an idea of the thing defčribed, that it
could fcarcely have the fmalleft efleCt, if the fpeaker
did not call in to his aid thofe modes of fpeech

V

290  ON THE SUBLI M E

that mark a ftrong and livelv feelirig in himfelf.
Then , by the contagibri of our paffions, vvc catclt
a lire already kindled in another, vvhich probably
might never have been ftruck out by the obječt
defcribed. VVdrds* - , by ftrongly conveying the
paffions, by thofe means vvhich vve have already
mentioned , fully compenfate for their vveaknefs in
other refpečis. It may be obferved, that very
poliffied languages, and fuch as are praifed for
their fuperior clearnefs and perfpicuity, are ge¬
neral^ deficient in ftrength. The French language
has that perfeblion and that defeči. Wllereas the
oriental torigues, and m general the languages of
moli unpoliflied people, have a great force and
energy of expreffion; arld this is but naturah
Uncultivated people are but ordiftary obfervers
of things, and not Critical in diftinguifliing therri)
but, for that reafon , they adrnire more , and are
more affečted vvith vvhat they fee, and therefore
exprefs themfelves in a vvarmer and more paffionate
manner. If the affection be vvell conveyed, it will
tvork its effe£i vvithoiit any člear idea; often vvithout

AND BEAUTIFUL.

291

ariy idea at ali of the thing vthich haš drigiriallv
given rife to it.

(-1

It might be expecled from the fertility of the
fubjefit, that I fhould confider poetry aš it regards
the ftiblime artd beautiful more at large ; but it
muli be obferved that in this light it has been
often and ivell handled already. It was not my
defigrt to enter into the criticifm of the fublime
and beautiful in any art, but to attempt to lay
down fuch principles as may tend to afcertain s
to diftinguilh , and to form a fort of ftandard for
them j whičh purpofes I thought might be beli
effečled by art inquiry into the properties of fuch
things in nature, as raife love and aftonilhment in
trs; and by lhowing in what manner they operated
to produce thefe paffions. Words were only fo
far to be confidered, as to lliow upon what princi-
ple they were capable of being the reprefentatives
of thefe natural things, and by what powers they
were able to afiect us often as ftrongly as the things
they reprefent, and fometimes much more ltrongly,

THE E N D.

Books  printed and fold hy  J. J. TOURNE1SE1T.

BolingbrOke s Letters on the Ufe and Study ofHiftory,
I vol.

Gibeon’? Hiicorv of the Decline and Fali of the Roman
Empire, 14 vol.

Fobf,rtson’s Hiltorv of the Empeiror Charles V. 4 vol.
Br.aiRS Lciftures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres, 3 vol.

Ki p bi  s’ Life of Captain James Cook, 2 vol.

Ferguson’s EfTay on the Hiflory of Civil Society, 1 vol.
Krate’? Account of the Pelevv-lflands, 1 vol.

Hu.MfcJs Hiftorv pf England, 12 vol.

Gilues’H iftory of Ancient Greece, ? vol.

Robertson’s Hi(lory of America, 3 val.

Middleton’s Life of Cicero , 4 vol.

Shaftesbury’s Charačleriftics, 3 vol.

Smith’s Inquiry into the Nature and Caufes of the MKealth
of Nations 4 vol.

Fekgusqn’s Hiftory of the Progrefs and Tcrmination of
the Roman Republic <5  vol.

Robertson’?  Hillory of Scotland during the reigns of
Queen Mary , Jamesovi. &c. 3 vol.
Robertson’s  Difquilition concerning India, 1 vol.
Delorme’?  Conilitution of England, 1 vol.

Watson’s  Hiftory of Philip Ilf 3 vol.

—- Hiftory of Philip III 1 * 2 vol.

Burke’s  Inquiry into the Sublitne, 1 vol,

Berrington ! S Hiftory of Abelard and Heloifa, 1 vol.
Berrington’? Hiftqry of Hehry lil of England, 2 vol.
Hume’s Eflays and Treatifes.

Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments, 2 vol.

Ju Ni us’? Letters , 1 vol.

Smollet’s Continuation of Hume’s Hiftory of England.

Sf>eedi!y ■vpili be publisbed.

Montague’s Ancient Republics, 1 vol.

Millar’? Diftir.čtion of Ranks , 1 vol.

Home’?  Sketches of man, 4 voh

- Elements of Criticifm, 3 vol.

Mn FORD ? H'flo-y of Greece.

CongREVE’s Works, with his Life by S. Johnfon, 2 vol.