I
 
 ESSAYS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 NATURE AND PRINCIPLES 
 
 OF 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 BY 
 
 ARCHIBALD ALISON, LL.B. 
 
 F. R.S. LONDON AND EDINBURGH, 
 PREBENDARY OF SARUM, 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 PRINTED FOR BELL & BRADFUTE, 
 
 AND ARCHD. CONSTABLE AND CO. EDINBURGH ; 
 
 F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON, AND CONSTABLE, HUNTER, PARK. 
 
 AND HUNTER, LONDON. 
 
 1811. 
 
 4 3 5 6 9
 
 Printed by G. Ramsay & Co. 
 Edinburgh, 1811.
 
 M K 
 
 n I o 
 
 A-t ' 
 
 TO 
 
 DUGALD STEWART, ESQ. 
 
 IN WHOSE FRIENDSHIP 
 
 THE AUTHOR HAS FOUND THE HONOUR, 
 AND THE HAPPINESS OF HIS LIFE; 
 
 THESE ESSAYS 
 
 ARE 
 
 MOST RESPECTFULLY 
 
 AND AFFECTIONATELY 
 
 INSCRIBED. 
 
 EDINBURGH, 
 November, 22d. 1810.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE first Edition of this Work was pub- 
 lished in the year 1790. After so long an 
 interval, I should not have presumed again 
 to present it to the public, if I had not been 
 informed by my booksellers, that some 
 wish had lately been expressed for a Se- 
 cond Edition. In preparing it for the 
 press, I have thought it my duty to add a 
 few observations on the Origin of the Beau- 
 ty and Sublimity of the Human Counte- 
 nance and Form, to complete the Second 
 Essay. 
 
 Of the general plan which I have sketch- 
 ed in the Introduction, I lament to think 
 that so little has been accomplished ; and 
 still more, that the progress of years, and
 
 Vlll ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 the increase of more serious duties, render 
 me still less able to accomplish the original 
 design I had meditated. 
 
 Yet, if the public should express any 
 wish to see these Inquiries concluded, I 
 shall be proud to feel myself under the ob- 
 ligation of attempting, at least, to obey it. 
 
 ARCHIBALD ALISON.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 Page 
 INTRODUCTION, xi 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 Of the Nature of the Emotions of Sublimity and Beauty. 
 CHAP. I. SECT. I. Of the Effect produced upon the 
 Imagination, by objects of Sublimity and 
 Beauty, 3 
 
 SECT. II. The same Subject continued, - 8 
 
 SECT. III. The same Subject continued, - - 23 
 CHAP. II. SECT. I. Analysis of this Exercise of Ima- 
 gination, 69 
 SECT. II. The same Subject continued, - 81 
 SECT. III. The same Subject continued, - 120 
 Conclusion, 158 
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 Of the Sublimity and Beauty of the Material World. 
 CHAP. I. Introductory, 175 
 
 CHAP. II. Of the Sublimity and Beauty of Sound, - 191 
 SECT. I. Of Simple Sounds, 192
 
 X, CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Part I. Of miscellaneous Sounds, 192 
 
 Part II. Of the Notes of Animals, - 220 
 
 Part III. Of the Tones of the Human Voice, 235 
 
 SECT. II. Of Composed Sounds, or Music, 251 
 
 CHAP. III. Of the Sublimity and Beauty of the Objects 
 
 of Sight, - 289 
 
 SECT. I. Of Colours, 2p5 
 
 CHAP. IV. Of Forms, - - 314 
 SECT. I. Of the Natural Sublimity and Beauty of 
 
 Forms. 
 
 Part I. Of the Sublimity of Forms, 320 
 
 Part II. Of the Beauty of Forms, - - 329
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 TASTE is, in general, considered as that 
 Faculty of the human Mind, by which we 
 perceive and enjoy whatever is BEAUTIFUL 
 or SUBLIME in the works of Nature or Art. 
 The perception of these qualities is at- 
 tended with an Emotion of Pleasure, very 
 distinguishable from every other pleasure 
 of our Nature, and which is accordingly 
 distinguished by the name of the EMOTION 
 of TASTE. The distinction of the objects 
 of Taste into the Sublime and the Beauti- 
 ful, has produced a similar division of this 
 Emotion, into the EMOTION of SUBLIMI- 
 TY, and the EMOTION of BEAUTY.
 
 Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The Qualities that produce these Emo- 
 tions, are to be found in almost every class 
 of the objects of human knowledge, and 
 the Emotions themselves afford one of the 
 most extensive sources of human delight. 
 They occur to us, amid every variety of 
 EXTERNAL Scenery, and among many di- 
 versities of disposition and affection in the 
 MIND of Man. The most pleasing; Arts of 
 
 r o 
 
 human invention are altogether directed to 
 their pursuit : and even the necessary Arts 
 are exalted into dignity, by the Genius that 
 can unite Beauty with Use. From the ear- 
 liest period of Society, to its last stage of 
 improvement, they afford an innocent and 
 elegant amusement to private life, at the 
 same time that they increase the Splendour 
 of National Character; and in the progress 
 of Nations, as well as of Individuals, while 
 they attract attention from the pleasures 
 they bestow, they serve to exalt the human 
 Mind, from corporeal to intellectual pur- 
 suits.
 
 INTRODUCTION. Xlll 
 
 These Qualities, however, though so im- 
 portant to human happiness, are not the 
 objects of immedia^ observation ; and in 
 the attempt to investigate them, various 
 circumstances unite to perplex our research. 
 They are often obscured under the number 
 of qualities with which they are accidental- 
 ly combined : They result often from pecu- 
 liar combinations of the qualities of objects, 
 or the relation of certain parts of objects to 
 each other : They are still oftener, perhaps, 
 dependent upon the state of our own minds, 
 and vary in their effects with the disposi- 
 tions in which they happen to be observed. 
 In all cases, while we feel the Emotions 
 they excite, we are ignorant of the causes 
 by which they are produced ; and when we 
 seek to discover them, we have no other 
 method of discovery, than that varied and 
 patient EXPERIMENT, by which, amid these 
 complicated circumstances, we may gra- 
 dually ascertain the peculiar qualities which, 
 by the CONSTITUTION of our NATURE, are
 
 XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 permanently connected with the Emotions 
 we feel. 
 
 In the employment o/ this mode of In- 
 vestigation, there are two great objects of 
 attention and inquiry, which seem to in- 
 clude all that is either necessary, or perhaps 
 possible, for us to discover on the subject 
 of Taste. 
 
 These objects are, 
 
 I. To investigate the NATURE of those 
 QUALITIES that produce the Emotions of 
 TASTE : And, 
 
 II. To investigate the NATURE of that 
 FACULTY, by which these Emotions are 
 received. 
 
 These investigations, however, are not to 
 be considered only as objects of philosophi- 
 cal curiosity. They have an immediate re- 
 lation to all the Arts that are directed to 
 the production either of the BEAUTIFUL 
 or the SUBLIME ; and they afford the only 
 means by which the principles of these va- 
 rious Arts can be ascertained. Without a
 
 INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 just and accurate conception of the Nature 
 of these Qualities, the ARTIST must be, un- 
 able to determine, whether the Beauty he 
 creates is temporary or permanent, whether 
 adapted to the accidental prejudices of his 
 Age, or to the uniform constitution of the 
 human Mind ; and whatever the Science of 
 CRITICISM can afford for the improvement 
 or correction of Taste, must altogether de- 
 pend upon the previous knowledge of the 
 Nature and Laws of this Facultv. 
 
 */ 
 
 To both these Inquiries, however, there 
 is a preliminary investigation, which seems 
 absolutely necessary, and without which 
 every conclusion we form, must be either 
 imperfect or vague. In the investigation 
 of CAUSES, the first and most important 
 step, is the accurate examination of the Er- 
 FECT to be explained. In the Science, of 
 Mind, however, as well as in that of Body, 
 there are few effects altogether simple, or in 
 which accidental circumstances are not com- 
 bined with the proper effect. Unless, there-*
 
 XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 fore, by means of repeated Experiments, sucli 
 accidental circumstances are accurately dis- 
 tinguished from the phenomena that perma- 
 nently characterize the effect, we are under 
 the necessity of including in the Cause, the 
 causes also of all the accidental circum- 
 stances with which the effect is accompa- 
 nied . 
 
 With the Emotions of TASTE, in almost 
 every instance, many other accidental Emo- 
 tions of Pleasure are united : the various 
 simple pleasures that arise from other qua- 
 lities of the object ; the pleasure of agree- 
 able Sensation, in the case of Material ob- 
 jects ; and in all, that pleasure which by 
 the Constitution of our Nature is annexed 
 to the Exercise of our Faculties. Unless, 
 therefore, we have previously acquired a 
 distinct and accurate conception of that 
 pirtiliar effect which is produced on our 
 Minds, when the Emotions of Taste are 
 felt, and can precisely distinguish it from 
 the effects that are produced by these acci-
 
 INTRODUCTION. XV11 
 
 dental Qualities, we must necessarily in- 
 clude in the Causes of such Emotions, those 
 Qualities also, which are the causes of the 
 accidental pleasures with which this Emo- 
 tion is accompanied. The variety of Sys- 
 tems that Philosophers have adopted upon 
 this subject, and the various Emotions into 
 which they have resolved the Emotion of 
 Taste, while they afford a sufficient evidence 
 of the numerous accidental pleasures that 
 accompany these Emotions, afford also a, 
 strong illustration of the necessity of pre- 
 viouslv ascertaining the Nature of this Et- 
 
 * J O 
 
 fed, before we attempt to investigate its 
 Cause. With regard, therefore, to both 
 these Inquiries, the first and most important 
 step is accurately to examine the Nature of 
 this EMOTION itself, and its distinction from 
 every other Emotion of Pleasure ; and our 
 capacity of discovering either the Nature 
 of the Qualities lhat produce the Emotions 
 of Taste, or the Nature of the Faculty by 
 which they arc received, will be exnclly 
 
 >'OT,. I. />
 
 XV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 proportioned to our accuracy in ascertain* 
 ing the Nature of the Emotion itself. 
 
 When we look back to the history of 
 these investigations, and to the Theories 
 which have been so liberally formed upon 
 the subject, there is one fact that must ne- 
 cessarily strike us, viz. That all these Theo- 
 ries have uniformly taken for granted the 
 Simplicity of this Emotion ; that they have 
 considered it as an Emotion too plain, and 
 too commonly felt, to admit of any Analy- 
 sis ; that they have as uniformly, therefore, 
 referred it to some one Principle or Law 
 of the Human Mind ; and that they have 
 therefore concluded, that the Discovery of 
 that one Principle was the essential key by 
 which all the Pleasures of Taste were to be 
 resolved. 
 
 "While they have assumed this funda- 
 mental Principle, the various Theories of 
 Philosophers may, and indeed must, be in- 
 cluded in the two following Classes of Sup- 
 position. 
 
 12
 
 INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 I. The first class is that which resolves 
 the Emotion of Taste directly into an ori- 
 ginal Law of our Nature, which supposes a 
 Sense, or Senses, by which the qualities of 
 Beauty and Sublimity are perceived and 
 Felt, as their appropriate objects ; and con- 
 cludes, therefore, that the genuine object 
 of the Arts of Taste, is to discover > and to 
 imitate those Qualities in every Subject, 
 which the prescription of Nature has thus 
 made essentially either beautiful or sublime. 
 
 To this first class of Hypotheses belong 
 almost all the Theories of Music, of Archi- 
 tecture, and of Sculpture, the theory of Mr 
 Hogarth, 6f the Abbe Winkelman, and per- 
 haps, in its last result, also the theory of Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds. It is the species of Hy- 
 pothesis which is naturally resorted to by all 
 Artists and Amateurs,, by those> whose ha- 
 bits of Thought lead them to attend more 
 to the Causes of their Emotions, than I o the 
 Nature of the Emotions themselves. 
 
 II. The second Class of Hypotheses arises
 
 XX INTRODUCTION, 
 
 from the opposite View of the Subject, li 
 is that which resists the idea of any new or 
 peculiar Sense, distinct from the common 
 principles of our Nature ; which supposes 
 some one known and acknowledged Prin- 
 ciple or Affection of Mind, to be the founda- 
 tion of all the Emotions we receive from the 
 Objects of Taste, and which resolves, there- 
 fore, all the various Phenomena into some 
 more general Law of our intellectual or 
 
 ^^ 
 
 moral Constitution. Of this kind are the 
 Hypotheses of M. Diderot, who attributes 
 all our Emotions of this kind to the percep- 
 tion of Relation ; of Mr Hume, who resolves 
 them into our Sense of Utility ; of the ve- 
 nerable St Austin, who, with nobler views, a 
 thousand years ago, resolved them into the 
 pleasure which belongs to the perception of 
 Order and Design, &c. It is the species of 
 Hypothesis most natural to retired and 
 philosophic Minds ; to those, whose habits 
 have led them to attend more to the Natuiv
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXI 
 
 of the Emotions they felt, than to the 
 Causes which produced them. 
 
 If the success of these long and varied 
 Inquiries has not corresponded to the Ge- 
 nius or the industry of the Philosophers 
 who have pursued them, a suspicion may 
 arise that there has been something faulty 
 
 O *.- 
 
 in the principle of their Investigation : and 
 that some fundamental assumption has been 
 made, which ought first to have been pa- 
 tiently and securely ascertained. It was this 
 suspicion that first led to the following In- 
 quiries : It seemed to me that the SIMPLI- 
 CITY or TIM: EMOTION or TASTE, was a 
 Principle much too hastily adopted ; and 
 that the consequences which followed from 
 it (under both these Classes of Hypotheses), 
 were very little reconciled blc with the most 
 common experience of Human Feeliug; and 
 from the examination of this preliminary 
 Question, I was led gradually to conclu- 
 sions which seemed not only to me, bur to 
 others, whose opinion f \aluefar more |h:ir:
 
 XX11 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 my own, of an importance not unworthy oi 
 being presented to the public. In doing 
 this, I am conscious that I have entered up- 
 on a new and untrodden path.; and I feel 
 all my own weakness in pursuing it: yet I 
 trust my Readers will believe, that I should 
 not have pursued it so long, if I were not 
 convinced that it would finally terminate in 
 views not only important to the Arts of 
 Taste, but important also to the Philosophy 
 of the Human Mind. 
 
 The Inquiries which follow naturally di- 
 vide themselves into the following Parts ; 
 and are to be prosecuted in the following 
 order : 
 
 I. I shall begin with an ANALYSIS of the 
 EFFECT which is produced upon the Mind, 
 Avhen the Emotions of Beauty or Sublimity 
 are felt. I shall endeavour to shew, that 
 this effect is very different from the deter- 
 mination of a SENSE ; that it is not in fact 
 a Simple, but a Complex Emotion ; that it 
 involves in all cases, 1st, the production of
 
 INTRODUCTION, XXlli 
 
 some Simple Emotion, or the exercise of 
 some moral Affection ; and %dly, the con- 
 sequent Excitement of a peculiar Exercise of 
 the Imagination; that these concomitant 
 effects are distinguishable, and very often 
 distinguished in our experience ; and that 
 the peculiar pleasure of the BEAUTIFUL or 
 the SUBLIME is only felt when these two ef- 
 fects are conjoined, and the Complex Emo- 
 tion produced. 
 
 The prosecution of the Subject will lead 
 to another Inquiry of some difficulty and 
 extent, viz. into the origin of the Beauty 
 and Sublimity of the Qualities of MATTER. 
 To this subordinate Inquiry I shall devote 
 a separate Essay. I shall endeavour to 
 shew that all the Phenomena are reducible 
 to the same general Principle, and that the 
 Qualities of Matter are not beautiful or 
 sublime in themselves, but as they are, 
 by various means, the Signs or Expressions 
 ' of Qualities capable of producing Emo- 
 tion.
 
 XXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 II. From this Examination of the EF- 
 FECT I shall proceed, in the SECOND PART, 
 to investigate the CAUSES which are pro- 
 ductive of it ; or, in other words, the Sources 
 of the Beautiful and the Sublime in Nature 
 and Art. 
 
 In the course of this investigation I shall 
 
 O 
 
 endeavour to shew, Isf, That there is no 
 single emotion into which these varied ef- 
 fects can be resolved : that on the contrary, 
 every simple emotion, and therefore every 
 object which is capable of producing any 
 simple emotion, may be the foundation of 
 the complex emotion of Beauty or Sublimi- 
 ty. But, in the second place., that this com- 
 plex emotion of Beauty or Sublimity is 
 never produced, unless, beside the excite- 
 ment of some simple emotion, the imagina^ 
 lion also is excited, and the exercise of the 
 two faculties combined in the general ef- 
 fect. The prosecution of the subject, will 
 lead me to the principal object of the inquiry* 
 U> shew what is that LAW or .AIIXD, accord-
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXV 
 
 ing to which, in actual life, this exercise or 
 employment of imagination is excited ; and 
 what are the means by which, in the differ- 
 ent Fine Arts, the artist is able to awaken 
 this important exercise of imagination, and 
 to exalt objects of simple and common plea- 
 sure, into objects of Beauty or Sublimity. 
 
 In this part of the subject, there are two 
 subordinate inquiries which will necessarily 
 demand attention. 
 
 1. The Qualities of Sublimity and Beau- 
 ty, are discovered not only in pleasing or 
 agreeable subjects, but frequently also in 
 objects that are in themselves productive of 
 PAIX ; and some of the noblest produc- 
 tions of the Fine Arts are founded upon 
 subjects of TERROR and DISTRESS. It 
 will form, therefore, an obvious and import- 
 ant inquiry to ascertain by what means 
 ihis singular Effect is produced in REAL 
 MATURE, and by what means it may bo 
 produced in the Compositions of ART. 
 
 -?. There is a distinction in the effects
 
 XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 produced upon our minds by objects of 
 Taste, and this distinction, both in the EMO- 
 TIONS and their CAUSES, has been expres- 
 sed by the terms of SUBLIMITY and 
 BEAUTY. It will form, therefore, a second 
 object of inquiry to ascertain THE NATURE 
 OF THIS DISTINCTION, both with regard to 
 these emotions and to the qualities that 
 produce them. 
 
 III. From the preceding inquiries I shall 
 proceed, in the LAST PART, to investigate 
 the NATURE of that Faculty by which these 
 emotions are perceived and felt. I shall 
 endeavour to shew, that it has no resem- 
 blance to a sense ; that as, whenever it is 
 employed, two distinct and independent 
 Powers of Mind are employed, it is not to 
 be considered as a separate and peculiar 
 faculty, and that it is finally to be resolved 
 into more general Principles of our con- 
 stitution. These speculations will proba- 
 bly lead to the important inquiry, whether 
 there is any STANDARD by which the per-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 fcction or imperfection of our sentiments 
 upon these subjects may be determined; 
 to some explanation of the means by 
 which Taste may be corrected or improved ; 
 and to some illustration of the PURPOSES 
 which this peculiar constitution of our na- 
 ture serves, in the increase of human HAP- 
 PINESS, and the exaltation of human CIIA- 
 
 JtACTEIi. 
 
 I feel it incumbent on me, however, to 
 inform my Readers, that I am to employ, 
 in these inquiries, a different kind of evi- 
 dence from what has usually been employ- 
 ed by writers upon these subjects, and that 
 my illustrations will be derived, much less 
 from the compositions of the Fine Arts, 
 than from the appearances of common na- 
 ture, and the experience of common men. 
 If the Fine Arts are in reality arts of imi- 
 tationj their Principles are to be sought for 
 in the subject which they imitate ; and it is 
 ever to be remembered, " That Music, Ar- 
 *' chitecture, and Painting, as well as Poe-
 
 XXV1H INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " try and Oratory are to deduce their laws 
 " and rules from the general Sense and Taste 
 w of mankind, and not from the principles of 
 " these Arts themselves : in other words, 
 " that the Taste is not to conform to the 
 " Art, but the Art to the Taste *." In fol- 
 lowing this mode of illustration, while I am 
 
 O 
 
 sensible that 1 render my book less amus- 
 ing, I trust 1 may render it more useful. 
 The most effectual method to check the 
 empiricism, either of Art or of Science, is 
 to multiply, as far as possible, the number 
 of those who can observe, and judge 1 ; and 
 (whatever may be the conclusions of my 
 readers with regard to my own particular 
 opinions), 1 shall not have occupied their at- 
 tention in vain, if I can lead them to think 
 and to feel for themselves ; to employ the 
 powers which are given them to the ends for 
 which they were given ; and, upon subjects 
 wJierc all men are entitled to judge, to dis- 
 
 * Mr Addisori
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXIX 
 
 regard alike the abstract refinements of the 
 Philosopher who speculates in the closet^ 
 and the technical doctrines of the Artist 
 who dictates in the school.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAP. IV. Part III. Of the Composition of Forms, - 3 
 SECT. II. Of the Relative Beauty of Forms, 56 
 
 Part I. Of the Influence of Design upon the 
 
 Beauty of Forms, - 58 
 
 Part II. Of the Influence of Fitness upon the 
 
 Beauty of Forms^ 117 
 
 Part III. Of the Influence of Utility upon the 
 
 Beauty of Forms, 191 
 
 SECT. III. Of the Accidental Beauty of Forms, 1Q2 
 
 CHAP. V. Of the Sublimity and Beauty of Motion, 206 
 CHAP. VI. Of the Beauty of the Human Countenance 
 
 and Form. 
 
 SECT. I. Introductory, - 2l6 
 
 SECT. II. Of the Human Countenance, 221 
 
 Part I. Of the Colours of the Countenance, ib 
 Part II. Of the Features of the Human Coun- 
 tenance, 244 
 Part III. Of the Composition of the Colours 
 and Features in the Human Coun- 
 tenance, 263 
 
 VOL. PT />
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 SECT. III. Of the Beauty and Sublimity of the Hu- 
 man Form, 298 
 SECT. IV. Of the Sublimity and Beauty of Attitude 
 
 and Gesture, 3.54 
 
 SECT. V. Of Grace, 379 
 
 SECT. VI. Conclusion. Of the Final Cause of this 
 
 Constitution of our Nature, 415
 
 ESSAY 1. 
 
 OF THE 
 
 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 OF 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 
 
 VOL. i.
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 OF THE NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS Ol 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the Effect produced upon the Imagination 
 by Objects of Sublimity and Beauty. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 THE emotions of Sublimity and Beauty are 
 uniformly ascribed, both in popular and in 
 philosophical language, to the Imagination. 
 The fine arts are considered as the arts 
 which are addressed to the imagination, 
 and the pleasures they afford are describ- 
 ed, by way of distinction, as the Pleasures
 
 4 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 of the Imagination. The nature of any 
 person's taste, is, in common life, 'generally 
 determined from the nature or character of 
 his imagination, and the expression of any 
 deficiency in this power of mind, is consi- 
 dered as synonymous with the expression 
 of a similar deficiency in point of lasle. 
 
 Although, however, this connection is so 
 generally acknowledged, it is not perhaps 
 as generally understood in what it consists, 
 or what is the nature of that effect which is 
 produced upon the imagination, by objects 
 of sublimity and beauty. I shall endea- 
 vour, therefore, in the first place, to state, 
 what seems to me the nature of this effect, 
 or, in what that exercise of imagination 
 
 o 
 
 consists, which is so generally supposed to 
 take place, when these emotions are felt. 
 
 When any object, either of sublimity or 
 beauty, is presented to the mind, I believe 
 every man is conscious of a train of thought 
 being immediately awakened in his imagi- 
 nation, analogous to the character or ex-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 5 
 
 prcssion of the original object. The sim- 
 ple perception of the object, we frequently 
 find, is insufficient to excite these emotions, 
 unless it is accompanied with this opera- 
 tion of mind, unless, according to common 
 expression, our imagination is seized, and 
 our fancy busied in the pursuit of all those 
 trains of thought, which are allied to this 
 
 C? 
 
 character or expression. 
 
 Thus, when we feel either the beauty or 
 sublimity of natural scenery, the gay lustre 
 of a morning in spring, or the mild radiance 
 of a summer evening;, the savao-e majesty of 
 
 O* O */ *- 
 
 a wintry storm, or the wild magnificence oi 
 a tempestuous ocean, we are conscious of 
 a variety of images in our minds, very differ- 
 ent from those which the objects themselves 
 can present to the eye. Trains of pleasing 
 or of solemn thought arise spontaneously 
 within our minds ; our hearts swell witli 
 emotions, of which the objects before us 
 seem to afford no adequate cause ; and we 
 are never so much satiated with delight, us
 
 O MATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 when, in recalling our attention, we are un- 
 able to trace either the progress or the con- 
 nection of those thoughts, which have pas- 
 sed with so much rapidity through our ima- 
 gination. 
 
 The effect of the different arts of taste is 
 similar. The landscapes of Claude Lor- 
 rain, the music of Handel, the poetry of 
 Milton, excite feeble emotions in our minds, 
 when our attention is confined to the quali- 
 ties they present to our senses, or when it 
 is to such qualities of their composition that 
 we turn our regard. It is then, 01113% we 
 feel the sublimity or beauty of their produc- 
 tions, when our imaginations are kindled 
 by their power, when we lose ourselves 
 amid the number of images that pass be- 
 fore our minds, and when we waken at last 
 from this play of fancy, as from the charm 
 of a romantic dream. The beautiful apos- 
 trophe of the Abbe de Lille, upon the subr 
 .ject of gardening.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 7 
 
 N'avez-vous pas souvent, au lieux infrequentes. 
 Rencontre tout-a-coup, ces aspects enchantes, 
 Qui suspendent vos pas, dont Pimage cherie 
 Vous jette en uae douce et lorigue reverie ? 
 
 is equally applicable to every other compo- 
 sition of taste; and in the production of 
 such trains of thought, seems to consist the 
 effect which objects of sublimity and beau- 
 ty have upon the imagination. 
 
 For the truth of this observation itself, I 
 must finally appeal to the consciousness of 
 the, reader ; but there are some very fami- 
 liar considerations, which it may be useful 
 to suggest, that seem very strongly to shew" 
 the connection between this exercise of ima- 
 gination, and the existence of the emotions 
 of sublimity or beauty.
 
 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 THAT unless this exercise of imagination 
 is excited, the emotions of beauty or subli- 
 mity are unfelt, seems capable of illustra- 
 tion, from many instances of a very fami- 
 liar kind. 
 
 I. 
 
 If the mind is in such a state as to pre- 
 vent this freedom of imagination, the emo- 
 tion, whether of sublimity or beauty, is uri- 
 perceived. In so far as the beauties of art 
 or nature ^affect the external senses, their 
 effect is the same upon every man who is 
 in possession of these senses. But to a 
 man in pain or in grief, whose mind, by 
 these means, is attentive only to one ob- 
 ject or consideration, the same scene, or the 
 same form, will produce no feeling of ad- 
 miration, which, at other times, when his
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 9 
 
 imagination was at liberty, would have pro- 
 duced it in its fullest perfection. What- 
 ever is great or beautiful in the scenery of 
 external nature, is almost constantly be- 
 fore us ; and not a day passes, without pre- 
 senting us with appearances, fitted both to 
 charm and to elevate our minds ; yet it is 
 in general with a heedless eye that we re- 
 gard them, and only in particular moments 
 that we are sensible of their power. There 
 is no man, for instance, who has not felt 
 the beauty of sunset ; yet every one can re- 
 member many instances, when this most 
 striking scene had no effect at all upon his 
 imagination ; and when he has beheld all 
 the magnificence with which nature gene- 
 rally distinguishes the close of day, without 
 one sentiment of admiration or delight. 
 There are times, in the same manner, when 
 we can read the Georglcs, or the Seasons, 
 with perfect indifference, and with no more 
 emotion, than what we feel from the most 
 uninteresting composition in prose; while
 
 10 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 in other moments, the first lines we meet 
 with take possession of our imagination, 
 and awaken in it such innumerable trains 
 of imagery, as almost leave behind tho fan- 
 cy of the poet. In these, and similar cases 
 of difference in our feelings, from the same 
 objects, it will always be found, that the 
 difference arises from the state of our ima- 
 ginations; from our disposition to follow 
 out the train of thought which such objects 
 naturally produce, or our incapacity to do 
 it, from some other idea, which has at that 
 time taken possession of our minds, and 
 renders us unable to attend to any thing 
 else. That state of mind, every man must 
 have felt, is most favourable to the emo- 
 tions of taste, in which the imagination is 
 
 * o 
 
 free and unembarrassed, or in which the at- 
 tention is so little occupied by any private 
 or particular object of thought, as to leave 
 us open to all the impressions, which thp 
 objects that are before us can create. It 
 is upon the vacant and the unemployed.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 11 
 
 accordingly, that the objects of taste make 
 the strongest impression. It is in such 
 hours alone, that we turn to the composi- 
 tions of music, or of poetry, for amusement. 
 The seasons of care, of grief, or of business, 
 have other occupations, and destroy, for the 
 time at least, our sensibility to the beauti- 
 ful or the sublime, in the same proportion 
 that they produce a state of mind unfa- 
 vourable to the indulgence of imagination. 
 
 II. 
 
 The same thins; is observable in criticism. 
 
 o 
 
 AVhen we sit down to appreciate the value 
 of a poem, or of a painting, and attend mi- 
 nutely to the language or composition of 
 the one, or to the colouring or design of the 
 other, we feel no longer the delight which 
 they at first produce. Our imagination in 
 this employment is restrained, and instead 
 of yielding to its suggestions, we studiously 
 endeavour to resist them, by fixing our at- 
 tention upon minute and partial circum-
 
 12 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 stances of the composition. How much 
 this operation of mind tends to diminish our 
 sense of its beauty, every one will feel, who 
 attends to his own thoughts on such an oc- 
 
 O 
 
 casion, or who will recollect how different 
 was his state of mind, when he first felt the 
 beauty either of the painting or the poem. 
 It is this, chiefly, which makes it so difficult 
 for young people, possessed of imagination, 
 to judge of the merits of any poem or fable, 
 and which induces them so often to give 
 
 o 
 
 their approbation to compositions of little 
 value. It is not, that they are incapable of 
 learning in what the merits of such com- 
 positions consist, for these principles of judg- 
 ment are neither numerous nor abstruse. It 
 is not, that greater experience produces great- 
 er sensibility, for this every thing contradicts; 
 but it is, because every thing, in that period 
 of life, is able to excite their imaginations, 
 and to move their hearts, because they judge 
 of the composition, not by its merits, when 
 compared with other works, or by its ap-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 13 
 
 proach to any abstract or ideal standard, 
 but by its effect in agitating their imagina- 
 tions, and leading .them into that fairy land, 
 in which the fancy of youth has so much 
 delight to wander. It is their own ima- 
 
 o 
 
 gination which has the charm, which they 
 attribute to the work that excites it ; and 
 the simplest tale, or the poorest novel, is, at 
 that time, as capable of awakening it, as 
 afterwards the eloquence of Virgil or Rous- 
 seau. All this, however, all this flow of ima* 
 gination, in which youth and men of sen- 
 sibility are so apt to indulge, and which so 
 often brings them pleasure at the expence 
 of their taste, the labour of criticism destroys. 
 The mind, in such an employment, instead 
 of being at liberty to follow whatever trains 
 of imagery the composition before it can ex- 
 cite, is either fettered to the consideration 
 of some of its minute and solitary parts ; or 
 pauses, amid the rapidity of its conceptions, 
 to make them the objects of its attention 
 and review. In these operations, accord-
 
 14 STATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 ingly, the emotion, whether of beauty or su- 
 blimity, is lost, and if it is wished to be re- 
 called, it can only be done by relaxing this 
 vigour of attention, and resigning ourselves 
 a^ain to the natural stream of our thoughts. 
 
 o o 
 
 The mathematician who investigates the de- 
 monstrations of the Newtonian philosophy, 
 the painter who studies the design of Ra- 
 phael, the poet who reasons upon the mea- 
 sure of Milton, all, in such occupations, lose 
 the delight which these several productions 
 can give ; and when they are willing to re- 
 cover their emotion, must withdraw their 
 attention from those minute considerations, 
 and leave their fancy to expatiate at will, 
 amid all the great or pleasing conceptions, 
 which such productions of genius can raise. 
 
 III. 
 
 The effect which is thus produced upon 
 the mind, by temporary exertions of atten- 
 tion, is also more permanently produced by 
 the difference of original character ; and the
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 15 
 
 degree in which the emotions of sublimity 
 or beauty are felt, is, in general, proportion- 
 ed to the prevalence of those relations of 
 thought in the mind, upon which this exer- 
 cise of imagination depends. The principal 
 relation which seems to take place in those 
 trains of thought, that are produced by ob- 
 jects of taste, is that of resemblance ; the 
 relation, of all others, the most loose and 
 general, and which affords the greatest range 
 of thought for our imagination to pursue. 
 Wherever, accordingly, these emotions are 
 felt, it will be found, not only that this is 
 the relation which principally prevails among 
 our ideas, but that the emotion itself is pro- 
 portioned to the degree in which it prevails. 
 In the effect which is produced upon our 
 minds, by the different appearances of Na- 
 tural scenery, it is easy to trace this progress 
 of resembling thought, and to observe, how 
 faithfully the conceptions which arise in our 
 imaginations, correspond to the impressions 
 which the characters of these seasons pro-
 
 16 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 duce. What, for instance, is the impression 
 we feel from the scenery of spring ? The soft 
 and gentle green with which the earth is 
 spread, the feeble texture of the plants and 
 flowers, the young of animals just entering 
 into life, and the remains of winter yet lin- 
 gering among the woods and hills, all con- 
 spire to infuse, into our minds somewhat of 
 that fearful tenderness with which infancy 
 is usually beheld. With such a sentiment, 
 how innumerable are the ideas which pre- 
 sent themselves to our imagination ! ideas, 
 it is apparent, by no means confined to the 
 scene before our eyes, or to the possible de- 
 solation which may yet await its infant 
 beauty, but which almost involuntarily ex- 
 tend themselves to analogies with the life of 
 man, and bring before us all those images 
 of hope or fear, which, according to our pe- 
 culiar situations, have the dominion of our 
 hearts ! The beauty of autumn is accom- 
 panied with a similar exercise of thought: 
 The leaves begin then to drop from the trees ;
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. IJ 
 
 the flowers and shrubs, with which the fields 
 were adorned in the summer months, decay ; 
 the woods and groves are silent; the sun 
 himself 'seems gradually to withdraw his light, 
 or to become enfeebled in his power. Who 
 is there, who, at this season, does not feel 
 his mind impressed with a sentiment of me- 
 lancholy? or who is able to resist that current 
 of thought, which, from such appearances 
 of decay, so naturally leads him to the so- 
 lemn imagination of that inevitable fate, 
 which is to bring on alike the decay of life, 
 of empire, and of nature itself? In such 
 cases of emotion, every man must have felt, 
 that the character of the scene is no sooner 
 impressed upon his mind, than various trains 
 of correspondent imagery rise before his ima- 
 gination ; that whatever may be the nature 
 of the impression, the general tone of his 
 thoughts partakes of this nature or charac- 
 ter ; and that his delight is proportioned to 
 the degree in which this uniformity of cha- 
 racter prevails. 
 
 VOL. i. B
 
 18 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 The same effect, however, is not produced 
 upon all men. There are many, whom the 
 prospect of such appearances in nature, ex- 
 cites to no exercise of fancy whatever ; 
 who, by their original constitution, are more 
 disposed to the employment of attention, 
 than of imagination, and who, in the objects 
 that are presented to them, are more apt to 
 observe their individual and distinguishing 
 qualities, than those by which they are re- 
 lated to other objects of their knowledge. 
 Upon the minds of such men, the relation 
 of resemblance has little power ; the efforts 
 of their imagination, accordingly, are either 
 feeble or slow, and the general character of 
 their understandings is that of steady and 
 precise, rather than that of enlarged and ex- 
 tensive thought. It is, I believe, consistent 
 with general experience, that men of this 
 description are little sensible to the emotions 
 of sublimity or beauty ; and they who have 
 attended to the language of such men, when 
 objects of this kind have been presented to
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 19 
 
 them, must have perceived, that the emotion 
 they felt, was no greater than what they 
 themselves have experienced in those cases, 
 where they have exerted a similar degree of 
 attention, or when any other cause has re- 
 strained the usual exercise of their imaoi- 
 
 o 
 
 nation. To the qualities which are produc- 
 tive of simple emotion, to the useful, the 
 agreeable, the fitting, or the convenient in 
 objects, they have the same sensibility with 
 other men ; but of the superior and more 
 complex emotion of beauty, they seem to 
 be either altogether unconscious, or to share 
 in it only in proportion to the degree in 
 which they can relax this severity of atten- 
 tion, and yield to the relation of resembling 
 thought. 
 
 It is in the same manner, that the pro- 
 gress of life generally takes from men their 
 sensibility to the objects of taste. The sea- 
 son in which these are felt in their fullest 
 degree is in youth, when, according to com- 
 mon expression, the imagination is warm,
 
 20 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 or, in other words, when it is easily excited 
 to that exertion upon which so much of the 
 emotion of beauty depends. The business 
 of life, in the greatest part of mankind, and 
 the habits of more accurate thought, which 
 are acquired by the few who reason and re- 
 flect, tend equally to produce in both a 
 stricter relation in the train of their thoughts, 
 and greater attention to the objects of their 
 consideration, than can either be expected, 
 or can happen in youth. They become, by 
 these means, not only less easily led to any 
 exercise of imagination, but their associa- 
 tions become at the same time less consistent 
 with the employment of it. The man of 
 business, who has passed his life in studying 
 the means of accumulating wealth, and the 
 philosopher, whose years have been employ- 
 ed in the investigation of causes, have both 
 not only acquired a constitution of mind 
 very little fitted for the indulgence of ima- 
 gination, but have acquired also associa- 
 tions of a very different kind from those
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 21 
 
 which take place when imagination is em- 
 ployed. In the first of these characters, the 
 prospect of any beautiful scene in nature 
 would induce no other idea than that of its 
 value. In the other, it would lead only to 
 speculations upon the causes of the beauty 
 that was ascribed to it. In both, it would 
 thus excite ideas, which could be the foun- 
 dation of no exercise of imagination, be- 
 cause they required thought and attention. 
 To a young mind, on the contrary, posses- 
 sed of any sensibility, how many pleasing 
 ideas would not such a prospect afford? 
 ideas of peace and innocence, and rural joy, 
 and all the unblemished delights of solitude 
 and contemplation. In such trains of ima- 
 gery, no labour of thought, or habits of at- 
 tention, are required ; they rise spontaneous- 
 ly in the mind, upon the prospect of any 
 object to which they bear the slightest re- 
 semblance, and they lead it almost insensi- 
 bly along, in a kind of bewitching reverie, 
 through all its store of pleasing or interest-
 
 22 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 ing conceptions. To the philosopher, or the 
 man of business, the emotion of beauty, 
 from such a scene, would be but feebly 
 known ; but by the young mind, which had 
 such sensibility, it would be felt in all its 
 warmth, and would produce an emotion of 
 delight, which not only would be little com- 
 prehended by men of a severer or more 
 thoughtful character, but which seems also 
 to be very little dependent upon the object 
 which excites it, and to be derived, in a 
 great measure, from this exercise of mind 
 itself. 
 
 In these familiar instances, it is obvious 
 how much the emotions of taste are con- 
 nected with this state or character of ima- 
 gination, and how much those habits or em- 
 ployments of mind, which demand atten- 
 tion, or which limit it to the consideration 
 of single objects, tend to diminish the sen- 
 sibility of mankind to the emotions of su- 
 blimitv or beauty.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 23 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 THERE are many other instances equally 
 familiar, which are sufficient to shew, that 
 whatever increases this exercise or einplo}^- 
 ment of Imagination, increases also the 
 emotion of beauty or sublimity. 
 
 I. 
 
 This is very obviously the effect of all 
 Associations. There is no man, who has 
 not some interesting associations with par- 
 ticular scenes, or airs, or books, and who 
 does not feel their beauty or sublimity en- 
 hanced to him by such connections. The 
 view of the house where one was born, of 
 the school where one was educated, and 
 where the gay years of infancy were passed, 
 is indifferent to no man. They recal so 
 many images of past happiness and past 
 affections, they are connected with so many
 
 24 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 strong or valued emotions, and lead alto- 
 gether to so long a train of feelings and re- 
 collections, that there is hardly any scene 
 which one ever beholds with so much rap- 
 ture. There are songs also, that we have 
 heard in our infancy, which, when brought 
 to our remembrance in after years, raise 
 emotions for which we cannot well ac- 
 count ; and which, though perhaps very in- 
 different in themselves, still continue from 
 this association, and from the variety of con- 
 ceptions which they kindle in our minds, 
 to be our favourites through life. The 
 scenes which have been distinguished by 
 the residence of any person, whose memory 
 we admire, produce a similar effect. " Mo- 
 " vemur enim, nescio quo pacto, locis ipsis, 
 " in quibus eorum, quos diligimus, aut ad- 
 " miramur adsunt vestigia." The scenes 
 themselves may be little beaiiliful ; but 
 the delight with which we recollect the 
 traces of their lives, blends itself insensibly 
 with the emotions which the scenerv ex-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 2o 
 
 cites ; and the admiration which these re- 
 collections afford, seems to give a kind of 
 sanctity to the place where they dwelt, and 
 converts every thing into beauty which ap- 
 pears to have been connected with them. 
 There are scenes, undoubtedly, more beauti- 
 ful than Runnymede, yet, to those who re- 
 collect the great event which passed there, 
 there is no scene, perhaps, which so strong- 
 ly seizes upon the imagination ; and al- 
 though the emotions this recollection pro- 
 duces, are of a very different kind from 
 those which the mere natural scenery can 
 excite, yet they unite themselves so well 
 with these inferior emotions, and spread so 
 venerable a charrn over the whole, that one 
 can hardly persuade one's self, that the 
 scene itself is not entitled to this admiration. 
 The valley of Vaucluse is celebrated for its 
 beauty, yet how much of it has been owing 
 to its being the residence of Petrarch ! 
 
 Mais ccs eaux, ce beau ciel, ce vallon enchanteur, 
 Moins que Petrarque et Laure interessoient mon cceur.
 
 26 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 La voila done disois-je, oui, voila cette rive 
 
 Que Petrarque charmoit dc sa lyre plaintive ; 
 
 Ici Petrarque a Laure expriraant son amour, 
 
 Voyoit naitre trop tard, mourir trop tot, le jour. 
 
 Retrouverai-je encore, sur ccs rocs solitaires, 
 
 De leurs chiffres unis Ics tendres caracteres ? 
 
 Une grotte ecartee avoit frappe raes ycux, 
 
 Grotte sombre, dis-moi si tu les vis heureux, 
 
 M'ecriois-je ! un vieux tronc bordoit-il le rivagc ? 
 
 Laure avoit repose sous son antique ombrage ; 
 
 Je redemandois Laure a Pecho du vallon, 
 
 Et 1'echo n'avoit point oublie ce doux noni, 
 
 Partout mes yeux cherchoient, voy oient, Petrarque et Laure., 
 
 Et par euXj ces beaux lieux s'embellissoient encore. 
 
 Les Jar dins ) Chant 3/n<?. 
 
 The Sublime is increased, in the same 
 manner, by whatever tends to increase this 
 exercise of imagination. The field of any 
 celebrated battle becomes sublime from this 
 association. No man, acquainted with 
 English history, can behold the field of 
 Agincourt, without some emotion of this 
 kind. The additional conceptions which 
 this association produces, and which fill the 
 mind of the spectator on the prospect of
 
 OP SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 27 
 
 that memorable field, diffuse themselves in 
 some measure over the scene, and give it a 
 sublimity which does not naturally belong 
 to it. The majesty of the Alps themselves 
 is increased by the remembrance of Han- 
 nibaTs march over them ; and who is there, 
 that could stand on the banks of the Rubi- 
 con, without feeling his imagination kindle, 
 and his heart beat high ? 
 
 " Middleton Dale," says Mr Whately, 
 " is a cleft between rocks, ascending gradu- 
 " ally from a romantic village, till it emer- 
 " ges, at about two miles distance, on the 
 " vast moorlands of the Peak. It is a dis- 
 u mal entrance to a desert ; the hills above 
 " it are bare, the rocks are of a grey colour, 
 " their surfaces are rugged, and their shapes 
 " savage, frequently terminating in craggy 
 " points, sometimes resembling vast un- 
 " wieldy bulwarks, or rising in heavy but- 
 " tresses one above another, and here and 
 " there a misshapen mass bulging out, hangs 
 " lowering over its base. No traces of men
 
 28 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 " are to be seen, except in a road, which has 
 " no effect on such a scene of desolation, 
 " and in the limekilns constantly smoking 
 " on the side. The soil is disfigured with 
 " all the tinges of brown and red, which de- 
 " note barrenness ; in some places it has 
 44 crumbled away, and strata of loose dark 
 " stones only appear ; and in others, long 
 44 lines of dross, shovelled out of the mines, 
 " have fallen down the steeps. In these 
 " mines, the veins of lead on one side of 
 44 the Dale, are observed always to have 
 44 corresponding veins, in the same direc- 
 " tion, on the other ; and the rocks, though 
 44 differing widely in different places, yet al- 
 " ways continue in one style for some way 
 44 together, and seem to have a relation to 
 44 each other. Both these appearances make 
 44 it probable that Middleton Dale is a 
 44 chasm rent in the mountains by some 
 44 convulsion of nature beyond the memory 
 44 of man, or perhaps before the island was 
 " peopled. The scene, though it does not
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 29 
 
 " prove the fact, yet justifies the supposi- 
 " tion, and it gives credit to the tales of the 
 " country people, who, to aggravate its hor- 
 " rors, always point to a precipice, down 
 " which they say a young woman of the 
 " village threw herself headlong, in despair 
 " at the neglect of a man whom she loved ; 
 " and shew a cavern, where a skeleton once 
 " was discovered, but of what wretch is un- 
 " known ; his bones were the only memo- 
 " rial left of him/' Observations upon Mo- 
 dern Gardening, p. 93. 
 
 It is surely unnecessary to remark, how 
 much the sublimity of this extraordinary 
 scene is increased, by the circumstances of 
 horror which are so finely connected with 
 it. 
 
 One of the sublimest objects in natural 
 scenery, is an old and deep wood covering 
 the side of a mountain, when seen from be- 
 low ; yet how much greater sublimity is 
 given to it, by Dr Akenside, by the ad-
 
 SO NATURE OF THE EMOTIOXS 
 
 dition of the solemn images which, in the 
 following lines, are associated with it ! 
 
 -Mark the sable woods 
 
 That shade sublime yon mouutaiu's nodding bro\v. 
 With what religious awe the solemn scene 
 Commands your steps ! as if the reverend form 
 Of Minos or of Nuroa, should forsake 
 Th' Elysian seats, and down the embowering glade 
 
 Move to your pausing eye. 
 
 Pleasures of Imagination) Book iii. 
 
 There is a passage in one of the Odes of 
 the same poet, in which a scene, which is 
 in general only beautiful, is rendered strik- 
 ingly sublime, from the imagery with which 
 it is associated. 
 
 'Tis thus to work her baneful power, 
 Suspicion waits the sullen hour 
 
 Of fretfulness and strife, 
 When care the infirmer bosom wrings, 
 Or Eurus waves his murky wings, 
 
 To damp the seats of life. 
 But come, forsake the scene unbless'd 
 Whifch first beheld your faithful breast 
 
 To groundless fears a prey ;
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 31 
 
 Come, where with my prevailing lyre 
 The skies, the streams, the groves conspire 
 
 To charm your doubts away. 
 Thron'd in the sun's descending car 
 What Power unseen diffuseth far 
 
 This tenderness of mind ? 
 What Genius smiles on yonder flood ! 
 What God in whispers from the wood 
 
 Bids every thought be kind ? 
 
 Ode to Suspicion. 
 
 I know not, however, any instance, where 
 the effect of any association is so remark- 
 able in bestowing sublimity on objects, to 
 which it does not naturally belong, as in the 
 following inimitable poem of Buchanan's 
 on the month of May. This season is, in 
 general, fitted to excite emotions very dif- 
 ferent from sublimity, and the numerous 
 poems which have been written in celebra- 
 tion of it, dwell uniformly on its circum- 
 stances of " vernal joy." In this ode, how- 
 ever, the circumstances which the poet has 
 selected, are of a kind, which, to me, ap- 
 pear inexpressibly sublime, and distinguish.
 
 32 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 the poem itself by a degree and character 
 of grandeur, which I have seldom found 
 equalled in any other composition. The 
 idea of it was probably taken from these 
 fine lines of Virgil in the second Georgic, 
 in describing the effects of spring : 
 
 Non alios, prima crescentis origine mundi 
 Illuxisse dies, aliumvc habuisse tenorem 
 Credidcrim : ver illud erat, vcr magnus agebat 
 Orbis, ot hybcrnis parccbant llatibus Euri : 
 Cuin primum luccm pecudes hauscre, viriimque, 
 Ferrca progenies duris caput extulit arvis, 
 Immissxque ferae sylvis, ct sidera coelo. 
 
 I believe, however, no man will doubt how 
 much Buchanan has improved upon this 
 beautiful idea. 
 
 CALEND.E MALI;. 
 
 Salvete sacris deliciis sacrae 
 Maiae calendae ? ketitis et raero 
 
 Ludisque dicatae jocisque 
 
 Et teneris charitum choreis.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 33 
 
 Salve voluptas et nitidum decus 
 Anni recurrcns perpetua vice, 
 
 Et llos renascentis juventae 
 
 In scnium properantis ./Evi. 
 Cum blanda veris temperies novo 
 liluxit orbi, primaque secula 
 
 Fulsere ftaventi ractallo, 
 
 Sponte sua, sine lege, justa, 
 Talis per oranes continuus tenor 
 Annos tepeuti rura Favonio 
 
 Mulcebat, et nullis feraces 
 
 Seminibus recreabat agros. 
 Talis beatis incubat insulis 
 Fclicis aurae perpetuus tepor, 
 
 Et nesciis campis senectae 
 
 DifliciliSj querulique morbi. 
 Talis silentum per taciturn nemus 
 Levi susurrat murmurc spiritus, 
 
 Lethenquc juxta obliviosam 
 
 Funereas agitat cupressos. 
 Forsan supreinis cum Deus ignibus 
 Piabit orbem, lastaque secula 
 
 Mundo reducet, talis aura 
 
 JEthereos animos fovebit. 
 Salve fugacis gloria feculi, 
 Salve secunda digna dies nota ? 
 
 Salve vetustse vitae imago, 
 
 Et specimen venientis 
 VOL. I. C
 
 34 NATURE OP THE EMOTIONS 
 
 National associations have a similar effect, 
 in increasing the emotions of sublimity and 
 beauty, as they very obviously increase the 
 number of images presented to the mind. 
 The fine lines which Virgil has dedicated in 
 his Georgics, to the praises of his native 
 country, however beautiful to us, were yet 
 undoubtedly read with a far superior emo- 
 tion, by an ancient Roman. The prodigies 
 which the same poet has described, as pie- 
 ceding the death of Caesar, and the still 
 more minute description which Lucan, in 
 the first book of his Pharsalia, has aiven of 
 
 * o 
 
 such events, on the approach of the civil 
 war, must probably have given to a Roman, 
 who was under the dominion of such nation- 
 al superstitions, the strongest emotions of 
 sublimity and terror. But we read them 
 now without any other emotion, than what 
 arises from the beauty of the composition. 
 The influence of such associations, in in- 
 creasing either the beauty or sublimity of 
 Musical composition, can hardly have es-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 35 
 
 caped any person's observation. The tune 
 called Belleisle March is said, by a very 
 eminent writer, to have owed its popularity 
 among the people of England, to the sup- 
 position, that it was the tune which was 
 played, when the English army marched 
 into Belleisle, and to its consequent associa- 
 tion with images of fame, and conquest, 
 and military glory. There are other tunes 
 of the same character, which, without any 
 peculiar merit, yet always serve to please 
 the people, whenever they are performed. 
 The natives of any country, which possesses 
 a national or characteristic music, need not 
 be reminded, how strongly the performance 
 of such airs brings back to them the ima- 
 gery of their native land ; and must often 
 have had occasion to remark how inferior 
 an emotion they excite in those who are 
 strangers to such associations. The effect 
 of the celebrated national song, which is 
 said to overpower the Swiss soldier in a fo- 
 reign laud, with melancholy and despair,
 
 36 NATURE OP THE EMOTIONS 
 
 and which it is therefore found necessary to 
 forbid in the armies in which they serve, 
 cannot surely be attributed to its composi- 
 tion alone, but to the recollections that it 
 brings, and to those images that it kindles 
 in his mind, of peace, and freedom, and do- 
 mestic pleasure, from which he is torn, and 
 to which he may never return. Whatever 
 may be the sublimity of Handel's music, 
 the singular effect of it on some late occa- 
 sions, is, doubtless, not to be ascribed to 
 that sublimity alone, but in a peculiar man- 
 ner to the place where it was performed; 
 not only from the sacredness of that place, 
 which is, of itself, so well fitted to excite 
 many awful emotions ; but, in a consider- 
 able degree also, from its being the repo- 
 sitory of so many " illustrious dead," and 
 the scene, perhaps of all others, most sacred 
 to those who have any sensibility to the 
 glories of their country. 
 
 There are associations, also, which arise 
 from particular professions, or habits of
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 3? 
 
 thought, which serve very well to illustrate 
 the same observation. No man, in general, 
 is sensible to beauty, in those subjects with 
 regard to which he has not previous ideas. 
 The beauty of a theory, or of a relic of an- 
 tiquity, is unintelligible to a peasant. The 
 charms of the country are altogether lost 
 upon a citizen, who has passed his life in 
 town. In the same manner, the more that 
 our ideas are increased, or our conceptions 
 extended upon any subject, the greater the 
 number of associations we connect with it, 
 the stronger is the emotion of sublimity or 
 beauty we receive from it. 
 
 The pleasure, for instance, which the ge- 
 nerality of mankind receive from any cele- 
 brated painting, is trifling when compared 
 to that which a painter feels, if he is a man 
 of any common degree of candour. What 
 is, to them, only an accurate representation 
 of nature, is, to him, a beautiful exertion of 
 genius, and a perfect display of art. The 
 difficulties which occur to his mind in the
 
 38 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 design and execution of such a performance, 
 and the testimonies of skill, of taste, and of 
 invention, which the accomplishment of it 
 exhibit, excite a variety of emotions in his 
 breast, of which the common spectator is 
 altogether unsusceptible ; and the admira- 
 tion with which he thus contemplates the 
 genius and art of the painter, blends itself 
 with the peculiar emotions which the picture 
 itself can produce, and enhances to him 
 every beauty that it may possess. 
 
 The beauty of any scene in nature is sel- 
 dom so striking to others, as it is to a land- 
 scape-painter, or to those who profess the 
 beautiful art of laying out grounds. The 
 difficulties both of invention and execution 
 which from their professions are familiar to 
 them, render the profusion with which na- 
 ture often scatters the most picturesque beau- 
 ties, little less than miraculous. Every little 
 circumstance of form and perspective, and 
 Jight and shade, which are unnoticed by a 
 common eye, are important in theirs, and.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 39 
 
 mingling ill their minds the ideas of difficul- 
 
 o o 
 
 ty, and facility in overcoming it, produce 
 altogether an emotion of dflight, incompa- 
 rably more animated than any that the ge- 
 nerality of mankind usually derive from it. 
 The delight which most men of education 
 
 o 
 
 receive from the consideration of antiquity* 
 and the beauty that they discover in every 
 object which is connected with ancient 
 times, is in a great measure to be ascribed 
 to the same cause. The antiquarian, in his 
 cabinet, surrounded by the relics of former 
 ages, seems to himself to be removed to pe- 
 riods that are long since past, and indulges 
 in the imagination of living hi a world, 
 which, by a very natural kind of prejudice,, 
 we are always willing to believe was both 
 wiser and better than the present. All that 
 is venerable or laudable in the history of 
 these times present themselves to his memo- 
 ry. The gallantry, the heroism, the patriot- 
 ism of antiquity rise again before his view., 
 sgfteued by the obscurity in, which they arc
 
 40 NATURE OP THE EMOTIONS 
 
 involved, and rendered more seducing to 
 the imagination by that obscurity itself, 
 which, while itfhingles a sentiment of regret 
 amid his pursuits, serves at the same time 
 to stimulate his fancy to fill up, by its own 
 creation, those long intervals of time of 
 which history has preserved no record. The 
 relics he contemplates seem to approach 
 him still nearer to the ages of his regard. 
 The dress, the furniture, the arms of the 
 times, are so many assistances to his imagi- 
 nation, in guiding or directing its exercise, 
 and, offering him a thousand sources of 
 imagery, provide him with an almost inex- 
 haustible field in which his memory and his 
 fancy may expatiate. There are few men 
 who have not felt somewhat, at least, of the 
 delight of such an employment. There is 
 no man in the least acquainted with the his- 
 tory of antiquity, who does not love to let 
 his imagination loose on the prospect of its 
 remains, and to whom they are not in some 
 measure sacred, from the innumerable
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 41 
 
 images which they bring. Even the peasant, 
 whose knowledge of former times extends 
 but to a few generations, has yet in his vil- 
 lage some monument of the deeds or virtues 
 of his forefathers ; and cherishes with a fond 
 veneration the memorial of those good old 
 times to which his imagination returns with 
 delight, and of which he loves to recount 
 the simple tales that tradition has brought 
 him. 
 
 And what is it that constitutes that emo- 
 tion of sublime delight, which every man of 
 common sensibility feels upon the first pros- 
 pect of Rome ? It is not the scene of de- 
 struction which is before him. It is not the 
 Tiber, diminished in his imagination to a 
 paltry stream, flowing amid the ruins of 
 that magnificence which it once adorned. 
 It is not the triumph of superstition over the 
 wreck of human greatness, and its monu- 
 ments erected upon the very spot where the 
 first honours of humanity have been gained. 
 It is ancient Rome which fills his imagina-
 
 42 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 tion. It is the country of Caesar, and Cicero, 
 and Virgil, which is before him. It is the 
 mistress of the* world which he sees, and 
 who seems to him to rise again from her 
 tomb, to give laws to the universe. All 
 that the labours of his youth, or the studies 
 of his maturer age have acquired, with re- 
 gard to the history of this great people, 
 open at once before his imagination, and 
 present him with a field of high and solemn 
 imagery, which can never be exhausted. 
 Take from him these associations, conceal 
 from him that it is Rome that he sees, and 
 how different would be his emotion ! 
 
 
 
 II. 
 
 The effect which is thus produced, by 
 Associations, in increasing the emotions of 
 sublimity or beauty, is produced also, either 
 in nature, or in description, by what are 
 generally termed Picturesque Objects. In- 
 stances of such objects are familial' to every 
 one's observation. An old tower in the
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 43 
 
 middle of a deep wood, a bridge flung across 
 a chasm between rocks, a cottage on a pre- 
 cipice, are common examples. If I am 
 not mistaken, the effect which such objects 
 have on every one's mind, is to suggest an 
 additional train of conceptions, beside what 
 the scene or description itself would have 
 suggested ; for it is very obvious, that no 
 objects are remarked as picturesque, which 
 do not strike the imagination by themselves. 
 They are, in general, such circumstances, 
 as coincide, but are not necessarily con- 
 nected with, the character of the scene or 
 description, and which, at first affecting the 
 mind with an emotion of surprise, produce 
 afterwards an increased or additional train 
 of imagery. The effect of such objects, in 
 increasing the emotions either of beauty or 
 sublimity, will probably be obvious from 
 the following instances. 
 
 The beauty of sunset, in a fine autumnal 
 evening, seems almost incapable of addition 
 from any circumstance. The various and
 
 44 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 radiant colouring of the clouds, the soft 
 light of the sun, that gives so rich a glow 
 to every object on which it falls, the dark 
 shades with which it is contrasted, and the 
 calm and deep repose that seems to steal 
 over universal nature, form altogether a 
 scene, which serves, perhaps better than any 
 other in the world, to satiate the imagina- 
 tion with delight : Yet there is no man who 
 does not know how great an addition this 
 fine scene is capable of receiving from the 
 circumstance of the evening bell. In what, 
 however, does the effect of this most pic- 
 turesque circumstance consist ? Is it not in 
 the additional images which are thus sug- 
 gested to the imagination ? images indeed of 
 melancholy and sadness, but which still are 
 pleasing, and which serve most wonderfully 
 to accord with that solemn and pensive state 
 of mind, which is almost irresistibly produ- 
 ced by this charming scene. 
 Nothing can be more beautiful than Dr 
 10
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 45 
 
 Goldsmith's description of evening, in the 
 Deserted Village : 
 
 Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's 
 Up yonder hill the Tillage murmur rose. 
 There, as I pass'd with careless steps and slow, 
 The mingling notes came soften'd from below : 
 The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, 
 The sober herd that low'd to meet their young, 
 The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, 
 The playful children just let loose from school, 
 "The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whisp'ring wind, 
 And the loud laugh, that spoke the vacant mind : 
 
 Yet how much is the beauty of this descrip- 
 tion increased, by the fine circumstance with 
 which it is closed ? 
 
 These all in soft confusion sought the shade, 
 And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made. 
 
 There is a beauty of the same kind produ- 
 ced in the " Seasons/' by the addition of one 
 of the most picturesque circumstances that 
 was ever imagined by a poet :
 
 46 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 Lead me to the mountain brow, 
 
 Where sits the shepherd on the grassy turf, 
 Inhaling, healthful, the descending sun. 
 Around him feeds his many bleating flock, 
 Of various cadence, and his sportive lambs 
 Their frolics play ; and now the sprightly race 
 Invites them forth, Avhen swift, the signal given, 
 They start away, and sweep the mossy mound 
 That runs around the hill, the rampart once 
 
 Of iron war, in ancient barbarous times. 
 
 Spring. 
 
 The scene is undoubtedly beautiful of it- 
 self, without the addition of the last circum- 
 stance ; yet how much more beautiful does 
 it become by the new order of thought 
 which this circumstance awakens in the 
 mind, and which, contrasting the remem- 
 brance of ancient warfare and turbulent 
 limes, with the serenity and repose of the 
 modern scene, agitate the imagination with 
 
 ' ~ O 
 
 a variety of indistinct conceptions, which 
 otherwise could never have arisen in it ! 
 
 The physical arguments of Buchanan, in 
 his poem " de Sphasra," against the doctrine, 
 of the motion of the earth, are probably
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY. 4? 
 
 read with little emotion ; but it is impos- 
 sible to read the following lines of it with- 
 out delight, from the very picturesque ima- 
 gery which they contain : 
 
 Ergo tarn celeri tellus si concita motu 
 Iret in Ocoasura, rursusquc redirct in Ortunr, 
 Cuncta simul quatcret secum, vastoque fragore, 
 Tem;;la, aedes, miserisque etiam cum civibus, urbes 
 Opprimerit subitas strages inopina ruins. 
 Ipsae etiam yolucrcs tranantes aera leni 
 Remigio alarum, celeri vcrtiginc terra? 
 Abreptas gemerent sylvas, nidosque tenella 
 Cum sobole et cliara forsan cum conjuge: ncc se 
 Auderet zephyro solus committere turtur, 
 Ne procul ablatos, terra fugiente, Hymcnacos 
 
 Et viduum longo Juctu detleret amorein. 
 
 Lib. \. 
 
 There is a very striking beauty of the same 
 kind in a little poem of Dr Beattie's, enti- 
 tled, " Retirement/' 
 
 Thy shades, thy silence now be mine, 
 
 Thy charms my only theme ; 
 My haunt, the hollow cliff, whose pine 
 
 Waves o'er the gloomy stream, 
 Where the scar'd owl on pinions grey 
 
 Breaks from the rustling boughs,
 
 48 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 And down the lone vale sails away 
 To more profound repose, 
 
 " All/' says Mr Whately, in describing the 
 Tinian Lawn at Hagley, " all here is of an 
 " even temper, all mild, placid and serene ; 
 " in the gayest season of the day, not more 
 " than cheerful, in the stillest watch of 
 " night, not gloomy. The scene is indeed 
 " peculiarly adapted to the tranquillity of 
 " the latter, when the moon seems to repose 
 " her lioiit on the thick foliage of the grove, 
 
 o o o 
 
 " and steadily marks the shade of every 
 " bough. It is delightful then to saunter 
 " here, and see the grass and the gossamer 
 " which entwines it glistening with dew, to 
 " listen, and hear nothing stir, except per- 
 " haps a withered leaf, dropping gently 
 " through a tree, and sheltered from the 
 " chill, to catch the freshness of the evening 
 " air/' It is difficult to conceive any thing 
 more beautiful than this description, yet 
 how much is its beauty increased by the 
 concluding circumstance ? " A solitary urn,
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 49 
 
 " chosen by Mr Pope for the spot, and now 
 " inscribed to his memory, when seen by a 
 " gleam of moonlight through the trees, 
 " fixes that thoughtfulness and composure, 
 " to which the mind is insensibly led by the 
 " rest of this elegant scene." Observations 
 on Gardening^ p. 201. 
 
 I shall conclude these instances of the ef- 
 fect of picturesque objects, in increasing 
 the emotion of Beauty, with a passage from 
 the Iliad, which contains one of the most 
 striking images that I know of in poetry, 
 and which I am the more willing to quote, 
 as it has not been so much taken notice of 
 as it deserves. It is the appearance of 
 Achilles, when Phoenix and Ulysses are 
 sent from the Grecian camp, to appease his 
 wrath : 
 
 Tfo cf i B& 
 
 J*' iTi TS Khlfft&S ^ )Hif 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 To? J^ c'vpav fyptva. 
 
 Tj) o^j Ov/y-oK tTjpTS 
 
 Iliad, Lib ix. v. 182. 
 
 Thro' the still night they march, and hear the roar 
 Of murmuring billows, on the sounding shore ; 
 And now arriv'd, where on the sandy bay, 
 The Myrnudonian tents and vessels lay, 
 Amus'd, at ease, the godlike man they found 
 Pleas'd with the solemn harp's harmonious sound. 
 With this he sooths his angry soul, and sings 
 Th' immortal deeds of heroes and of kings. 
 
 Book ix. r. 230. 
 
 It was impossible for the poet to have ima- 
 gined any other occupation so well fitted 
 to the mighty mind of Achilles, or so effec- 
 tual in interesting the reader in the fate of 
 
 o 
 
 him whom Dr Beattie calls, with truth, the 
 most terrific human personage that poetical 
 imagination has feigned. 
 
 o o 
 
 The sublime is increased in the same 
 manner, by the addition of picturesque ob- 
 jects. The striking image with which Vir- 
 
 o o
 
 51 
 
 gil concludes the description of the prodi- 
 gies which attended the death of Caesar, is 
 well known : 
 
 Scilicet ct tempus veniet cum finibus illis 
 Agricola, incnrro terram molitus aratro, 
 Excsa inveniet scabra rubigine pila : 
 Aut gravibus rastris, galeas pulsabit inanes, 
 Grandiaquc cffosis mirabitur ossa sepulchris. 
 
 There are few passages more sublime in 
 the Pharsalia of Lucan, than the descrip- 
 tion, in the third Book, of one of Pompey's 
 armies, blocked up by Ceesar in a part of 
 the country where there was no water, and 
 where the soldiers were perishing with thirst. 
 After describing, very minutely, the fruitless 
 attempts of the army to obtain relief, and 
 the miserable expedients with which they 
 endeavoured to supply their wants, he pro- 
 ceeds, in the following nervous and beauti- 
 ful lines, of which, I am persuaded, the last 
 circumstance is too striking to require any 
 comment :
 
 2 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 O fortnnati, fugicns quos barbarus hostis, 
 Fontibus immistos sfravit per rura venerio. 
 llos licet in fluvios saniem, <abemque ferarum 
 Pallida, Dict#is, Ca?sar, nascentia saxis 
 Infundas aronita palam, Romana juventus 
 Non decepta bibct. torrentur viscera flamraa 
 Oraqne sicca rigcnt sqnamosis aspera linguis ; 
 Jam marccnt venae, milloquc hum ore rigatus 
 Acris alfrrnos angustat I'tilrno nicatus, 
 Rcscissoquc noccnt suspiria dura palato. 
 Fandant ora ski, iiocturnumquc ai ra captant. 
 Expectant imbrcs, quorum modo cuncta natabant 
 Irapulsu, et siccis vultus in nubibus ha; rent. 
 QIHKIUC niagis miseros unda- jejunia solvant 
 Non, super arentem Merocn, Cancrique sub axe 
 Qua nudi Garamantes arant, sedere, sed inter 
 Stagnantem ^icorim et rapidum, depronsus Iberum 
 Spcctat vicinos / titiens i-xercitus, amnes. 
 
 Lib. Hi. ad mccl. 
 
 Th(?finc description in the Gierusalemme 
 Liberata, of a similar distress in the army 
 of Godfrey, before the walls of Jerusalem, 
 has probably been borrowed from this pas- 
 sage of Lttcan ; and it is pleasing to ob- 
 serve, with what address Tasso has imitated, 
 though not eopied, the picturesque eireum-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY. 53 
 
 stance with which the description of the 
 Roman poet is closed. Instead of aggra- 
 vating the distress of the soldier, by the 
 prospect of waters, which he could not ap- 
 proach, he recals to his remembrance the 
 cool shades and still fountains of his native 
 land : a circumstance, not only singularly 
 pathetic, but more fertile also of imagery, 
 than perhaps any other that the poet could 
 have imagined : 
 
 S'alcun giamai tra frondeggiente HTC 
 Puro vide btagnar liquido argento, 
 O giu precipitose vi accrue vive 
 Per Alpe, o'u piaggia erboso a. passo lento : 
 Quello al vago desio forma, c descrive, 
 E mmistra materia al suo tonneuto. 
 
 In Thomson's description of Winter in the 
 northern regions, though the description it- 
 self is sublime, yet one additional circum- 
 stance adds powerfully to its sublimity : 
 
 Thence, winding eastward to the Tartar coast, 
 She sweeps the howling margin o f the main,
 
 54f NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 Where, undissolving from the first of time 
 Snows swell on snows, amazing, to the sky, 
 And icy mountains, high on mountains pil'd, 
 Seem to the shivering sailor, from afar 
 Shapeless and white, an atmosphere of clouds. 
 Ocean itself no longer can resist 
 The binding fury : but in all its rage 
 Of tempest, taken by the boundless frost, 
 Is many a fathom to the bottom chain'd, 
 And bid to roar no more a bleak expanse 
 Shagg'd o'er with wavy rocks, cheerless, and void 
 Of every life, that from the dreary months 
 Flics, conscious, southward. Miserable they ! 
 Who, here entangled in the gathering ice, 
 Take their last look of the descending sun, 
 While full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost 
 The long long night, incumbent o'er their heads 
 Falls horrible. 
 
 In the following masterly description of 
 a very sublime scene in nature, by Mr 
 Whately, I doubt not but that it will be ac- 
 knowledged, how much the sublimity of it 
 is increased, by the very picturesque ima- 
 gery which the occupations of the inhabi- 
 tants afford. " A scene at the New Weir, 
 < on the river Wye, which in itself is truly
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. OO 
 
 " great and awful, so far from being dis- 
 " turbed, becomes more interesting and im- 
 " portant, by the business to which it is des~ 
 " lined. It is a chasm between two ranges 
 " of hills, which rise almost perpendicularly 
 " from the water; the rocks on the sides 
 " are mostly heavy masses, and their colour 
 " is generally brown ; but here and there a 
 44 pale craggy cliff starts up to a vast height 
 " above the rest, unconnected, broken, and 
 " bare : large trees frequently force out their 
 " way amongst them, and many of them 
 " stand far back in the covert, where 
 " their natural dusky hue is deepened by 
 " the shadow which overhangs them. The 
 
 o 
 
 " river, too, as it retires, loses itself amid the 
 " woods, which close immediately above, 
 " then rise thick and high, and darken the 
 " water. In the midst of all this gloom is 
 " an iron forge, covered with a black cloud 
 " of smoke, and surrounded with half-burn- 
 " ed ore, with coal, and with cinders. The 
 " fuel for it is brought down a path, worn
 
 56 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 " into steps, narrow, and steep, and wind- 
 " ing among the precipices ; and near it is 
 " an open space of barren moor, about 
 " which are scattered the huts of the work- 
 " men. It stands close to the cascade of 
 " the Weir, where the agitation of the cur- 
 " rent is increased bv lame fragments of 
 
 *J O O 
 
 " rocks which have been swept down by 
 " floods from the banks, or shivered by tem- 
 " pests from the brow ; and at stated inter- 
 " vals, the sullen sound, from the strokes of 
 " the great hammers in the forge, deadens 
 " the roar of the waterfall/'- Page 10.0. 
 
 There is a similar beauty, if I am not 
 mistaken, in the conclusion of the folio w- 
 ing passage from Mons. Diderot. 
 
 " Qu'est ce qu'il faut au poete ? Est-ce 
 " une nature brule ou cultivee ? paisible 
 " ou troublee ? Prefera-t-il la beaute d'un 
 "jour pur et serein, a 1'horreur d'une nuit 
 " obscure, ou le siflement int&Tompu des 
 " vents se melc par intervalles au mur- 
 " mure sourd et continu d'un tonnere
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 5? 
 
 " eloigne, et oil il voit 1'eclair allumer le 
 " ciel sur sa tete? Prefera-t-il le spec- 
 " tacle d'une nier tranquille, a celui des flots 
 " agitees? le muet et froid aspect d'un pa- 
 " lais, a la promenade parmi des mines ? un 
 " edifice constant, un espece plante de la 
 K main des homines, au touffu (Tune antique 
 " foret, au creux ignore d'une roche deserte? 
 " des nappes d'eau, des bassins, des cas- 
 " cades, a la vue d'une cataracte qui se 
 " brise en tombant a travel's des rochers, et 
 " dont le bruit se fait entendre au loin du 
 " berger, ([ui a conduit son troupeau dans 
 " la montagne, et qui 1'ecoute avec effroi ? M 
 Epitre a Mons. Grimm, sur la Po'esic 
 JDramatique. 
 
 I shall conclude these illustrations with a 
 very sublime one from the Paradise Regain- 
 ed of Milton, in which I believe the force 
 of the concluding stroke will not be denied, 
 
 o 
 
 Either tropic now 
 
 'Gari thunder, and both ends of heaven ; the clouds 
 
 From many a horrid rift abortive, pour'd 
 
 Fierce rain, with lightning aiix'd ; nor slept the winds
 
 58 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad 
 From the four hinges of the world, and fell 
 On the vext wilderness, whose tallest pines, 
 Tho' rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks 
 Bow'd their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts 
 
 Or torn up sheer 111 wast Thou shrouded then 
 
 O patient Son of God 1 
 
 Book IT. 
 ~-" 
 
 In these, and a thousand other instances 
 that might be produced, I believe every 
 man of sensibility will be conscious of a 
 variety of great or pleasing images passing 
 with rapidity in his imagination, beyond 
 what the scene or description immediately 
 before him can of themselves excite. They 
 seem often, indeed, to have but a very dis- 
 tant relation to the object that at first excit- 
 ed them ; and the object itself appears on- 
 ly to serve as a hint, to awaken the imagi- 
 nation, and to lead it through every analo- 
 gous idea that has place in the memory. 
 It is then, indeed, in this powerless state 01 
 reverie, when we are carried on by our con- 
 ceptions, not guiding them, that the deep
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 59 
 
 est emotions of beauty or sublimity are felt ; 
 that our hearts swell with feelings which 
 language is too weak to express ; and that,; 
 in the depth of silence and astonishment,; 
 we pay to the charm that enthralls us, the 
 most flattering mark of our applause. 
 
 " The power of such characters in Na- 
 *' ture," says Mr Whately (from whom I am 
 happy to borrow the following observations, 
 not only from the beauty of their expres- 
 sion, but from their singular coincidence in 
 the illustration of the fact I have been en- 
 deavouring to establish), " the power of 
 " such characters is not confined to the 
 " ideas which the objects themselves imme- 
 " diately suggest ; for these are connected 
 " with others, which insensibly lead to sub- 
 *' jects far distant perhaps from the original 
 *' thought, and related to it only by simili- 
 " tude in the sensations they excite. In ^ 
 " prospect enriched and enlivened with in^ 
 " habitants and cultivation, the attention is 
 "caught first bv the circumstances which 
 
 O "
 
 60 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 " are gayest in the season, the bloom of an 
 " orchard, the festivity of a hay-field, and 
 " the carols of a harvest-home ; but the 
 " cheerfulness which these infuse into the 
 " mind, expands afterwards to other objects 
 " than those immediately presented to the 
 " eye, and we are thereby disposed to re- 
 " ceive, and delighted to pursue, a variety of 
 " pleasing ideas,and every benevolent feeling. 
 "At the sight of a ruin, reflections on the 
 " change, the decny, and the desolation be- 
 " fore us naturally occur ; and they intro- 
 " duce a long succession of others, all tinc- 
 " tured with that melancholy which these 
 " have inspired : or if the monument revive 
 " the memory of former times, we do not 
 " stop at the simple fact which it records, 
 " but recollect many more coeval circum- 
 " stances, which we see, not perhaps as 
 " they were, but as they are come down to 
 " us, venerable with age, and magnified by 
 " fame. Even without the assistance of 
 " buildings, or other adventitious circum-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 6l 
 
 " stances, nature alone furnishes materials 
 " for scenes which may be adapted to al- 
 " most every kind of expression. Their 
 " operation is general, and their conscquen- 
 " ccs infinite : the mind is elevated, de- 
 " pressed, or composed, as gaiety, gloom, 
 " or tranquillity prevail in the scene, and 
 " we soon lose sight of the means by which 
 " the character is formed. We forget the 
 " particular objects it presents, and, giving 
 " way to their effects, without recurring to 
 " the cause, we follow the track they have 
 44 begun, to any extent, which the disposi- 
 " tions they accord with will allow. It 
 " suffices that the scenes of nature have 
 " power to affect our imagination and our 
 " sensibility : for such is the constitution of 
 " the human mind, that if once it is agitat- 
 44 ed, the emotion often spreads beyond 
 " the occasion : when the passions are rous- 
 44 ed, their course is unrestrained, when the 
 * 4 fancy is on the wing, its flight is unbound- 
 " ed, and, quitting the inanimate objects
 
 62 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 " which first gave them their spring, we may 
 " be led by thought above thought, widely 
 " differing in degree, but still correspond- 
 " ing in character, till we rise from fami- 
 " liar subjects to the subliifiest concep- 
 " tions, and are rapt in the contempla- 
 " tion of whatever is great or beautiful, 
 " which we see in nature, feel in man, or at- 
 " tribute to the Divinity/' Page 154. 
 
 III. 
 
 The influence of such additional trains of 
 imagery, in increasing the emotions of su- 
 blimity or beauty, might be illustrated from 
 many other circumstances equally familiar. 
 I am induced to mention only the follow- 
 ing, because it is one of the most striking 
 that I know, and because it is probable 
 that most men of education have at least in 
 some degree been conscious of it : the in- 
 fluence, I mean, of an acquaintance with 
 Poetry in our earlier years, in increasing 
 our sensibility to the beauties of nature.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 6'3 
 
 The generality of mankind live in the 
 world, without receiving any kind of de- 
 light from the various scenes of beauty 
 which its order displays. The rising and 
 setting of the" sun, the varying aspect of the 
 moon, the vicissitude of seasons, the revolu- 
 tion of the planets, and all the stupendous 
 scenery that they produce, are to them only 
 common occurrences, like the ordinary 
 events of every day. They have been so 
 long familiar, that they cease to strike them 
 with any appearance either of magnificence 
 or beauty, and are regarded by them with 
 no other sentiments, than as being useful 
 for the purposes of human life. We may 
 all remember a period in our lives, when 
 this was the state of our own minds ; and 
 it is probable most nren will recollect, that 
 the time when nature began to appear to 
 them in another view, was, when they were 
 engaged in the study of classical literature. 
 In most men, at least, the first appearance 
 of poetical imagination is at school, when
 
 64 MATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 their imaginations begin to be warmed by the 
 descriptions of ancient poetry, and when 
 they have acquired a new sense, as it were, 
 with which they can behold the face of 
 nature. 
 
 How different, from this period, become 
 the 'sentiments with which the scenery of 
 nature is contemplated, by those who have 
 any imagination ! The beautiful forms of 
 ancient mythology, with which the fancy of 
 poets peopled every element, are now ready 
 to appear to their minds, upon the prospect 
 of every scene. The descriptions of ancient 
 authors, so long admired, and so deserving 
 of admiration, occur to them at every mo- 
 ment, and with them, all those enthusiastic 
 ideas of ancient genius and glory, which the 
 study of so many years of youth so natu- 
 rally leads them to form. Or, if the study 
 of modern poetry has succeeded to that of 
 the ancient, a thousand other beautiful as- 
 sociations are acquired, which, instead of 
 destroying, serve easily to unite with the
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 65 
 
 former, and to afford a new source of de- 
 light. The awful forms of Gothic supersti- 
 tion, the wild and romantic imagery, which 
 the turbulence of the middle ages, the Cru- 
 sades, and the institution of chivalry have 
 spread over every country of Europe, arise 
 to the imagination in every scene ; accent 
 panied with all those pleasing recollections 
 of prowess, and adventure, and courteous 
 manners, which distinguished those memor- 
 able times. With such images in their 
 minds, it is not common nature that ap- 
 pears to surround them. It is nature em- 
 bellished and made sacred by the memory 
 of Theocritus and Virgil, and Milton and 
 Tasso; their genius seems still to linger 
 among the scenes which inspired it, and to 
 irradiate every object where it dwells ; and 
 the creation of their fancy seem the fit in- 
 habitants of that nature, which their de- 
 scriptions have clothed with beauty. 
 
 Nor is it only in providing so many sour- 
 ces of association, that the influence of an 
 
 VOL. i. E
 
 66 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 acquaintance with poetry consists. It is 
 yet still more powerful in giving character 
 to the different appearances of nature, in 
 connecting them with various emotions and 
 
 o 
 
 affections of our hearts, and in thus provid- 
 ing an almost inexhaustible source either of 
 solemn or of cheerful meditation. What to 
 ordinary men is but common occurrence, 
 or common scenery, to those who have 
 such associations, is full of beauty. The 
 seasons of the year, which are marked only 
 by the generality of mankind by the dif- 
 ferent occupations or amusements they 
 bring, have each of lliem, to such men, pe- 
 culiar expressions, and awaken them to an 
 exercise either of pleasing or of awful 
 thought. The seasons of the day, which 
 are regarded only by the common specta- 
 tor as the call to labour, or to rest, are to 
 them characteristic either of cheerfulness or 
 solemnity, and connected with all the va- 
 rious emotions which these characters excite. 
 Even the familiar circumstances of general
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 6'7 
 
 nature, which pass unheeded by a common 
 eye, the cottage, the sheep-fold, the curfew, 
 all have expressions to them, because, in 
 the compositions to which they have been 
 accustomed, these all are associated with 
 peculiar characters, or rendered expressive 
 of them, and, leading them to the remem- 
 brance of such associations, enable them to 
 behold, with corresponding dispositions, the 
 scenes which arc before them, and to feel 
 from their prospect, the same powerful in- 
 fluence, which the eloquence of poetry has 
 ascribed to them. 
 
 Associations of this kind, when acquired 
 in early life, are seldom altogether lost ; and 
 whatever inconveniencies they may some- 
 times have with regard to the general cha- 
 racter, or however much they may be ridi- 
 culed by those who do not experience them, 
 they are yet productive, to those who pos- 
 sess them, of a perpetual and innocent de- 
 light. Nature herself is their friend ; in 
 her most dreadful, as well as her most love-
 
 68 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 ]y scenes, they can discover something 
 either to elevate their imaginations, or to 
 move their hearts ; and amid every change 
 of scenery, or of climate, can still find them- 
 selves among the early objects of their ad- 
 miration, or their love.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 6'P 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Analysis of this Exercise of Imagination. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 THE illustrations in the preceding chapter 
 seem to shew, that whenever the Emotions 
 of Sublimity or Beauty are felt, that exer- 
 cise of Imagination is produced, which con- 
 sists in the indulgence of a train of thought ; 
 that when this exercise is prevented, these 
 emotions are unfelt or unperceived ; and 
 that whatever tends to increase this exer- 
 cise of mind, tends in the same proportion 
 to increase these emotions. If these illus- 
 trations are just, it seems reasonable to con- 
 clude, that the effect produced upon the 
 mind, by objects of Sublimity and Beauty, 
 consists in the production of this exercise 
 of Imagination. 
 
 o
 
 70 NATUHE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 Although, however, this conclusion seems 
 to me both just and consonant to expe- 
 rience, yet it is in itself too general, to be 
 considered as a sufficient account of the na- 
 ture of that operation of mind which takes 
 place in the case of such Emotions. There 
 are many trains of ideas of which we are 
 conscious, which are unattended with any 
 kind of pleasure. There are other opera- 
 tions of mind, in which such trains of 
 thought are necessarily produced, without 
 exciting any similar emotion. Even in the 
 common hours of life, every man is con- 
 scious of a continued succession of thoughts 
 passing through his mind, suggested either 
 by the presence of external objects, or aris- 
 ing from the established laws of association : 
 such trains of thought, however, are seldom 
 attended with pleasure, and still seldomer 
 with an emotion, corresponding, in any de- 
 gree, to the emotions of sublimity or beau- 
 
 ty. 
 
 j 
 
 There are, in like manner, many cases
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. ?1 
 
 where objects excite a train of thought in 
 the mind, without exciting any emotion of 
 pleasure or delight. The prospect of the 
 house, for instance, where one has formerly 
 lived, excites very naturally a train of con- 
 ceptions in the mind ; yet it is by no means 
 true that such an exercise of imagination 
 
 O 
 
 is necessarily accompanied with pleasure, 
 for these conceptions not only may be, but 
 very often are of a kind extremely indiffe- 
 rent, and sometimes also simply painful. 
 The mention of an event in history, or of a 
 fact in science, naturally leads us to the 
 conception of a number of related events, or 
 similar facts ; yet it is obvious, that in such 
 a case the exercise of mind which is pro- 
 duced, if it is accompanied with any plea- 
 sure at all, is in most cases accompanied 
 with a pleasure very different from that 
 which attends the emotions of sublimity or 
 beauty. 
 
 If therefore some train of thought, or 
 some exercise of Imagination is necessary
 
 72 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 for the production of the emotions of Taste, 
 it is obvious, that this is not every train of 
 thought of which we arc capable. To as- 
 certain, therefore, with any precision, either 
 the nature or the causes of these emotions, 
 it is previously necessary to investigate the 
 nature of those trains of thought that are 
 produced by objects of sublimity and beau- 
 ty, and their difference from those ordinary 
 trains, which are unaccompanied with such 
 pleasure. 
 
 As far as I am able to judge, this diffe- 
 rence consists in two things. 1st. In the 
 
 ~ 
 
 Nature of the ideas or conceptions which 
 compose such trains : and, %dly, In the Na- 
 ture or Law of their succession. 
 
 I. 
 
 In our ordinary trains of thought, every 
 man must be conscious that the ideas which 
 compose them, are very frequently of a 
 kind which excite no emotions either of 
 pleasure or pain. There is an infinite va^
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 73 
 
 riety of our ideas, as well as of our sensa- 
 tions, that may be termed indifferent, which 
 are perceived without any sentiment either 
 of pain or pleasure, and which pass as it 
 were before the mind, without making any 
 farther impression than simply exciting the 
 consciousness of their existence. That such 
 ideas compose a great part, and perhaps 
 the greatest part, of our ordinary trains of 
 thought, is apparent from the single con- 
 sideration, that such trains are seldom at- 
 tended with emotion of any kind. 
 
 The trains of thought which are suggest* 
 ed by external objects, are very frequently 
 of a similar kind. The greater part of such 
 objects are simply indifferent, or at least 
 are regarded as indifferent in our common 
 hours either of occupation or amusement : 
 the conceptions which they produce, by 
 the laws of association, partake of the na-? 
 ture or character of the object which origi- 
 nally excited them, and the whole train 
 passes through our mind without leaving
 
 74 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 any farther emotion, than perhaps that ge- 
 neral emotion of pleasure which accompa- 
 nies the exercise of our faculties. It is 
 scarcely possible for us to pass an hour of 
 our lives without experiencing some train 
 of thought of this kind, suggested by some 
 of the external objects which happen to 
 surround us. The indifference with which 
 such trains are either pursued or deserted, 
 is a sufficient evidence, that the ideas of 
 which they arc composed, are in general of 
 a kind unfitted to produce any emotion, 
 either of pleasure or pain. 
 
 In the case of those trams of thought, on 
 the contrary, which are suggested by ob- 
 jects either of Sublimity or Beauty, I ap- 
 prehend it will be found, that they are in 
 all cases composed of ideas capable of ex- 
 citing some affection or emotion ; and that 
 not only the whole succession is accompa- 
 nied with that peculiar emotion, which we 
 call the Emotion of Beauty or Sublimity, 
 but that every individual idea of such a
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 75 
 
 succession is in itself productive of some 
 simple Emotion or other. Thus the ideas 
 suggested by the scenery of Spring, are 
 ideas productive of emotions of Cheerful- 
 ness, of Gladness, and of Tenderness. The 
 images suggested by the prospect of ruins, 
 are images belonging to Pity, to Melan- 
 choly, and to Admiration. The ideas, in 
 the same manner, awakened by the view of 
 the ocean in a storm, are ideas of Power, 
 of Majesty, and of Terror. In every case; 
 where the emotions of Taste are felt, I con-, 
 ceive it will be found, that the train of 
 thought which is excited, is distinguished 
 by some character of emotion, and that it 
 is by this means distinguished from our 
 common or ordinary successions of thought. 
 
 ^ o 
 
 To prevent a very tedious and unnecessary 
 circumlocution, such ideas may perhaps, 
 without any impropriety, be termed Ideas 
 of Emotion ; and I shall beg leave there- 
 fore to use the expression in this sense. 
 The first circumstance, then, which seems
 
 76 NATURE OP THE EMOTIONS 
 
 to distinguish those trains of thought which 
 are produced by objects either of Sublimity 
 or Beauty, is, that the ideas or conceptions 
 of which they are composed, are ideas of 
 Emotion. 
 
 II. 
 
 In our ordinary trains of thought, there 
 seldom appears any general principle of 
 connection among the ideas which com- 
 pose them. Each idea, indeed, is related, 
 by an established law of our nature, to that 
 which immediately preceded and that which 
 immediately follows it, but in the whole se- 
 ries there is no predominant relation or 
 bond of connection. This want of general 
 connection is so strong, that even that most 
 general of all relations, the relation either 
 of pleasure or pain, is frequently violated. 
 Images both of the one kind and the other, 
 succeed each other in the course of the 
 train ; and when we put an end to it, we 
 are often at a loss to say, whether the whole
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 77 
 
 series was pleasant or painful. Of this ir- 
 regularity, I think every man will be con- 
 vinced, who chooses to attend to it. 
 
 In those trains, on the contrary, which 
 are suggested by objects of Sublimity or 
 Beauty, however slight the connection be- 
 tween individual thoughts may be, I believe 
 it will be found, that there is always some 
 general principle of connection which per- 
 vades the whole, and gives them some cer- 
 tain and definite character. They are ei- 
 ther gay, or pathetic, or melancholy, or so- 
 lemn, or awful, or elevating, Sec. according 
 to the nature of the emotion which is first 
 excited. Thus the prospect of a serene 
 evening in summer, produces first an emo- 
 tion of peacefulness and tranquillity, and 
 then suggests a variety of images corre- 
 sponding to this primary impression. The 
 sight of a torrent, or of a storm, in the same 
 manner, impresses us first with sentiments 
 of awe, or solemnity, or terror, and then 
 awakens in our minds a series of concep-
 
 ?8 NATURE OF THE EMOTION'S 
 
 lions allied to this peculiar emotion. What- 
 ever may be the character of the original 
 
 j 
 
 emotion, the images which succeed seem all 
 to have a relation to this character ; and if we 
 trace them back, we shall discover not only a 
 connection between the individual thoughts 
 of the train, but also a general relation 
 among the whole, and a conformity to that 
 peculiar emotion which first excited them. 
 
 The train of thought, therefore, which 
 lakes place in the mind, upon the prospect 
 of objects of sublimity and beauty, may be 
 considered as consisting in a regular or con- 
 sistent train of ideas of emotion, and as dis- 
 tinguished from our ordinary trains of 
 thought. Isf, In respect of the Nature of 
 the ideas of which it is composed, by their 
 being ideas productive of Emotion ; and, 
 2dh/ 9 In respect of their Succession, by their 
 being distinguished by some general prin- 
 ciple of connection, which subsists through 
 the whole extent of the train. 
 
 The truth of the account which I have
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 79 
 
 now given of the nature of that train of 
 thought which attends the emotions of su- 
 blimity and beauty, must undoubtedly at 
 last be determined by its conformity to ge- 
 neral experience and observation. There 
 are some considerations, however, of a very 
 obvious and familiar kind, which it may be 
 useful to suggest to the reader, for the pur- 
 pose of affording him a method of investi- 
 gating with accuracy the truth of this ac- 
 count . 
 
 Jf it is true that the ideas which com- 
 pose that train of thought, which attends 
 the emotions of Taste, are uniformly ideas 
 
 */ 
 
 of Emotion, then it ought in fact to be found, 
 that no objects or qualities arc experien- 
 ced to be beautiful or sublime, but such as 
 are productive of some simple Emotion. 
 If it is true that such trains of thought 
 
 o 
 
 are uniformly distinguished bv some o-die- 
 
 ^ CTJ * CZ? 
 
 ral principle of connection, then it ought 
 also to be found, that no Composition of 
 objects or qualities produces such emotions,
 
 80 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 in which this Unity of character or of emo- 
 tion is not preserved. 
 
 I shall endeavour, at some length, to 
 illustrate the truth of both these proposi- 
 tions.
 
 OP SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 81 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 THAT no objects, or qualities in objects, 
 are, in fact, felt either as beautiful or su- 
 blime, but such as are productive of some 
 Simple Emotion, seems evident from the 
 following familiar considerations. 
 
 o 
 
 I. 
 
 Wherever the Emotions of Sublimity or 
 Beauty are felt, I believe it will be found, 
 that some affection is uniformly excited, by 
 the presence of the object, before the more 
 complex Emotion of Beauty is felt ; and 
 that if no such affection is excited, no Emo- 
 tion of Beauty or Sublimity is produced. 
 The truth of this observation may be illus- 
 trated, both from common language, and 
 common experience. 
 
 1. If any man were to assert, that some 
 object, though positively indifferent or uu- 
 
 VOL. i. p
 
 82 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 interesting, was yet beautiful or sublime, 
 every one would consider it as asserting an 
 absurdity. If, on the other hand, he were 
 to assert, that the object had neither beauty 
 nor sublimity to him, because there was no 
 quality in it which could give him any 
 emotion, I apprehend we should not only 
 clearly understand his meaning, but very 
 readily allow his reason ; and if the object 
 were such as appeared to us in the light 
 either of Sublimity or Beauty, and we wish- 
 ed to make him sensible of it, the way that 
 we should naturally take, would be to point 
 out to him some affecting; or interestino; 
 
 o o 
 
 quality, which we imagined he had over- 
 looked, and which we felt was the foundation 
 of our own emotion. 
 
 There is undoubtedly a very great differ- 
 ence between the Emotion of Taste, and 
 any Simple Emotion, as of Cheerfulness, 
 Tenderness, Melancholy, Solemnity, Eleva- 
 tion, Terror, &c. as such emotions are fre- 
 quently felt without any sentiment of Beauty
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 83 
 
 or Sublimity ; but there is no case, I believe, 
 where the Emotions of Taste are felt, with- 
 out the previous production of some such 
 Simple Emotion. It is often indeed dif- 
 ficult to say, what is the quality in the ob- 
 ject which produces the Emotion of Beau- 
 ty ; and it is sometimes difficult, in the case 
 of complex objects, when different qualities 
 unite in the production of Emotion, to de- 
 fine the exact nature of that Emotion which 
 we feel ; but whether the general impres- 
 sion we receive, is that of Gaiety, or Tender- 
 ness, or Melancholy, or Solemnity, or Ele- 
 vation, or Terror, c. we have never any dif- 
 ficulty of determining : and so strong is our 
 conviction of the dependence of the Emo- 
 tions of Taste upon some such previous sim- 
 ple emotion, that whenever we endeavour to 
 explain the Beauty or Sublimity of any ob- 
 ject, we uniformly proceed by pointing out 
 the interesting or affecting quality in it, 
 which is fitted to produce this previous emo- 
 tion. It is not only impossible for us to ima-
 
 84 NATURE OF THE EMOTION ^ 
 
 gine an object of Taste, that is not an ob- 
 ject of Emotion ; but it is impossible to de- 
 scribe any such object, without resting the 
 description upon that quality, or those qua- 
 lities in it, which are productive of Simple 
 Emotion. 
 
 2. Every man has had reason to observe 
 a difference in his sentiments, with regard 
 to the beauty of particular objects, from those 
 of other people, either in his considering 
 certain objects as beautiful, which did not 
 appear so to them, or in their considering 
 certain objects as beautiful, which did not 
 appear so to him. There is no instance of 
 this more common than in the case of airs 
 in music. In the first case of such a dif- 
 ference of opinion, we generally endeavour 
 to recollect, whether there is not some ac- 
 cidental association of pleasure which we 
 have with such objects, and which affords 
 us that delight which other people do not. 
 share ; and it not unfrequently happens, 
 that we assign such associations as the;
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 85 
 
 cause of our pleasure, and as our apology for 
 differing from their opinion. In the other 
 case, we generally take it for granted, that 
 they who feel a beauty where we do not, 
 have some pleasing association with the ob- 
 ject in question, of which we are uncon- 
 scious, and which is accordingly productive 
 to them of that delight in which we are un- 
 
 o 
 
 able to share. In both cases, although we 
 may not discover what the particular asso- 
 ciation is, we do not fail to suppose that 
 some such association exists which is the 
 foundation of the sentiment of beauty, and to 
 consider this difference of opinion as suf- 
 ficiently accounted for on such a supposition. 
 This very natural kind of reasoning could 
 not, I think, take place, if we did not find 
 from experience, that those objecls only 
 are productive of the Sentiment of Beauty, 
 which are capable of exciting Emotion. 
 
 3. The different habits and occupations 
 of life produce a similar effect on the senti- 
 ments of mankind with regard to the oh-
 
 86 
 
 jects of Taste, by their tendency to confine 
 their sensibility to a certain class of objects, 
 and to render all others indifferent to them. 
 In our progress from infancy to manhood, 
 how much do our sentiments of beauty 
 change with our years ! how often, in the 
 course of this progress, do we look back with 
 contempt, or at least with wonder, upon the 
 tastes of our earlier days, and the objects 
 that gratified them ! and how uniformly in 
 all this progress do our opinions of Beauly 
 coincide with the prevalent Emotions of 
 our hearts, and with that change of sensi- 
 bility which the progress of life occasions ! 
 As soon as any class of objects loses its im- 
 portance in our esteem, as soon as their pre- 
 sence ceases to bring us pleasure, or their 
 absence to give us pain, the beauty in which 
 our infant imagination arrayed them disap- 
 pears, and begins to irradiate another class 
 of objects, which we are willing to flatter 
 ourselves are more deserving of such senti- 
 ments, but which have often no other value,
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 8? 
 
 than in their coincidence with those new 
 emotions that begin to swell in our breasts. 
 The little circle of infant beauty, contains 
 no other objects than those that can excite 
 the affections of the child. The wider 
 range which youth discovers, is still limited 
 by the same boundaries which nature has 
 prescribed to the affections of youth. It is 
 only when we arrive at manhood, and still 
 more, when either the liberality of our edu- 
 cation, or the original capacity of our minds, 
 have led us to experience or to participate 
 in all the affections of our nature, that we 
 acquire that comprehensive taste, which 
 can enable us to discover, and to relish, 
 every species of Sublimity and Beauty. 
 
 It is easily observable, also, that besides 
 the natural progress of life, the habits of 
 thought, which men acquire from the diver- 
 sity of their occupations, tend in the same 
 proportion to limit their sense of Beauty or 
 Sublimity, as they limit their emotions to a 
 particular character or kind. The lover
 
 88 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 reads or hears with indifference, of all that 
 is most sublime in the history of ambition, 
 and wonders only at the folly of mankind, 
 who can sacrifice their ease, their comforts, 
 and all the best pleasures of life, to the un- 
 substantial pursuit of power. The man, 
 whose life has been passed in the pursuits 
 of commerce, and who has learned to esti- 
 mate every thing by its value in money, 
 laughs at the labours of the Philosopher or 
 the Poet, and beholds with indifference the 
 most splendid pursuits of life, if they are 
 not repaid by wealth. The anecdote of 
 a late celebrated Mathematician is well 
 known, who read the Paradise Lost, with- 
 out being able to discover in it any thing 
 that was sublime, but who said that he 
 could never read the queries at the end of 
 Newton's Optics, without feeling his hair 
 stand on end, and his blood run cold. 
 There are thousands who have read the old 
 ballad of Chevy Chase, without having 
 their imaginations inflamed with the ideas
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 89 
 
 of military gloiy. It is the Brave only, 
 who, in the perusal of it, like the gallant 
 Sir Philip Sydney, feel " their hearts mov- 
 " ed, as by the sound of a trumpet." 
 
 The effect of such habits of mind upon 
 the sense of Beauty, may, in some degree, 
 be observed in all the different classes of 
 mankind ; and there are probably few men, 
 who have not had occasion to remark how 
 much the diversity of tastes corresponds to 
 the diversity of occupations, and, even in 
 the most trifling things, how strongly the 
 sentiments of Beauty, in different men, are 
 expressive of their prevailing habits, or turn 
 of mind. It is only in the higher stations, 
 accordingly, or in the liberal professions of 
 life, that we expect to find men either of a 
 delicate or comprehensive taste. The infe- 
 rior situations of life, by contracting t he know- 
 ledge and the affections of men, within very 
 narrow limits, produce insensibly a similar 
 contraction in their notions of the beautiful 
 or the sublime. The finest natural taste is
 
 00 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 seldom found able to withstand that narrow- 
 ness and insensibility of mind, which is per- 
 haps necessarily acquired by the minute and 
 uninteresting details of the mechanical arts ; 
 and they who have been doomed, by their 
 professions, to pass their earlier years in po- 
 pulous and commercial cities, and in the 
 narrow and selfish pursuits which prevail 
 there, soon lose that sensibility which is the 
 most natural of all, the sensibility to the 
 beauties of the country ; because they lose 
 all those sentiments of tenderness and inno- 
 cence, which are the foundation of much 
 the greater part of the associations we con- 
 nect with the scenery of Nature. 
 
 4. The difference of original character, or 
 the natural tendency of our minds to parti- 
 cular kinds of Emotion, produces a similar 
 difference in our sentiments of Beauty, and 
 serves, in a very obvious manner, to limit 
 our taste to a certain class or character of ob- 
 jects. There are men, for instance, who, in 
 all the varieties of external nature, find no-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAT/TY. 91 
 
 thing beautiful but as it tends to awaken in 
 them a sentiment of sadness, who meet the 
 return of Spring with minds only prophetic 
 
 of its decay, and who follow the decline of 
 
 / 7 
 
 Autumn with no other remembrance than 
 that the beauties of the year are gone. There 
 are men, on the contrary, to whom every 
 appearance of Nature is beautiful, as awak- 
 ening a sentiment of gaiety ; to whom 
 Spring and Autumn alike are welcome, be- 
 cause they bring to them only different ima- 
 ges of joy ; and who, even in the most 
 desolate and wintry scenes, are yet able to 
 discover something in which their hearts 
 may rejoice. It is not, surely, that Nature 
 herself is different, that so different effects 
 are produced upon the imaginations of these 
 men ; but it is because the original constitu- 
 
 ^j 
 
 tion of their minds has led them to different 
 habits of Emotion, because their imagi- 
 nations seize only those expressions in nature, 
 which are allied to their prevailing disposi- 
 tions, and because every other appearance
 
 92 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 is indifferent to them, but those which fall in 
 with the peculiar sensibility of their hearts. 
 The gaiety of Nature alone, is beautiful to 
 the cheerful man ; its melancholy, to the 
 man of sadness ; because these alone are the 
 qualities which accord with the Emotions 
 they are accustomed to cherish, and in which 
 their imaginations delight to indulge. 
 
 o o o 
 
 The same observation is equally appli- 
 cable to the different tastes of men in Poetry, 
 and the rest of the fine arts ; and the pro- 
 ductions that all men peculiarly admire, are 
 those which suit that peculiar strain of Emo- 
 tion, to which, from their original constitu- 
 tion, they arc most strongly disposed. The 
 ardent and gallant mind sickens at the insi- 
 pidity of pastoral, and the languor of elegiac 
 poetry, and delights only in the great inter- 
 ests of the Tragic and the Epic Muse. The 
 tender and romantic peruse, with indiffer- 
 ence, the Iliad and the Paradise Lost, and 
 return with gladness to those favourite com- 
 positions, which are descriptive of the joys
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 93 
 
 or sorrows of Love. The gay and the fri- 
 volous, on the contrary, alike insensible to 
 the sentiments either of Tenderness or Mas;- 
 
 O 
 
 nanimity, find their delight in that cold but 
 lively style of poetry, which has been pro- 
 duced by the gallantry of modern times, 
 and which, in its principal features, is so 
 strongly characteristic of the passion itself. 
 In general, those kinds of poetry only are 
 delightful, or awaken us to any very sensible 
 Emotions of Sublimity or Beauty, which 
 fall in with our peculiar habits of sentiment 
 or feeling ; and if it rarely happens, that one 
 species of poetry is relished to the exclusion 
 of every other, it arises only from this, that 
 
 */ J */ 
 
 it is equally rare, that one species of Emo- 
 tion should have so completely the domi- 
 nion of the heart, as to exclude all Emotions 
 of any other kind. In proportion, however, 
 
 as our sensibility is weak, with regard to 
 
 * ~ 
 
 any class of objects, it is observable, that 
 our sense of Sublimity or Beauty in such 
 objects, is weak in the same proportion ;
 
 94 
 
 and wherever it happens (for it sometimes 
 does happen), that men, from their original 
 constitution, are incapable of any one species 
 of Emotion, I believe it will also be found, 
 that they are equally insensible to all the 
 Sublimity or Beauty which the rest of the 
 world find in the objects of such Emotion. 
 5. Besides the influence of permanent 
 habits of thought, or of the diversities of 
 original disposition upon our sentiments of 
 Beauty, every man must have had opportu- 
 nity to observe, that the perception of 
 Beauty depends also on the temporary sen- 
 sibility of his mind ; and that even objects 
 of the most experienced Beauty, fail in ex- 
 citing their usual delight, when they occur 
 to him in moments, when he is under the 
 dominion of different emotions from those 
 with which he usually regards them. In 
 our seasons of gaiety, we behold with indif- 
 ference the same objects, which delight our 
 imaginations when we are under the im- 
 pressions of tenderness or melancholy. In
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 95 
 
 our seasons of despondence, we turn, with 
 some kind of aversion, from the objects or 
 the reflections that enchant us in our hours 
 of gaiety. In the common hours of life, in 
 the same manner, when we are either ;busy, 
 or unoccupied, and when our minds are free 
 from every kind of sensibility, the objects 
 of Taste make but a feeble impression upon 
 us ; and are either altogether neglected, or 
 tacitly reserved to another time, when we may 
 be more in the temper to enjoy them. The 
 husbandman who goes out to observe the state 
 of his -grounds, the man of business who 
 walks forth to ruminate about his affairs, or 
 the philosopher, to reason or reflect, what- 
 ever their natural sensibilities may be, are 
 at such times insensible to every beauty that 
 the scenery of nature may exhibit; nor do 
 they begin to feel them, until they withdraw 
 their attention from the particular objects 
 of their thought, and abandon themselves 
 to the emotions which such scenes may hap- 
 pen to inspire.
 
 96 NATURE 01' THE EMOTIONS 
 
 There are even moments of listlessness 
 and languor, in which no objects of Taste 
 whatever can excite their usual delight, in 
 which our favourite landscapes, our favour- 
 ite airs, cease altogether to affect us ; and 
 when sometimes we almost wonder what is 
 the secret spell that hangs over our minds, 
 and prevents us from enjoying the pleasures 
 that are within our reach. It is not that 
 the objects of such pleasures are changed ; 
 it is not even that we have not the wish to 
 enjoy them, for this we frequently attempt, 
 and attempt in vain ; but it is because we 
 come to them either with minds fatigued, 
 
 O ' 
 
 and with spirits below their usual tone, or 
 under the influence of other feelings than 
 are necessary for their enjoyment. When- 
 ever we return to that state of mind which 
 is favourable to such emotions, our delight 
 returns with it, and the objects of such 
 pleasures become as favourite as before.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 97 
 
 II. 
 
 It is farther observable, that our sense of* 
 the Beauty or Sublimity of every object de- 
 pends upon that quality, or those qualities 
 of it which we consider ; and that objects 
 of the most acknowledged beauty, cease to 
 affect us with such emotions, when we make 
 any of their indifferent or uninteresting 
 qualities the object of our consideration. 
 There is no production of Taste whatever, 
 which has not many qualities of a very in- 
 different kind ; and there can be no doubt, 
 both that we have it in our power to make 
 any of these qualities the object of our at- 
 tention, and that we very often do so, with- 
 out regarding any of those qualities of emo- 
 tion, upon which its Beauty or its Sublimity 
 is founded. In such cases, I believe every 
 one has felt, that the effect upon his mind 
 corresponds to the quality he considers. 
 
 1. It is difficult, for instance, to enume- 
 rate the various qualities which may produce 
 
 VOL. I, G
 
 p8 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 the Emotion of Beauty, in the statues of the 
 Venus de Medicis, or the Apollo Belvidere ; 
 yet it is undoubtedly possible for any man 
 to see these masterpieces of statuary, and 
 yet feel no Emotion of Beauty. The deli- 
 cacy, the modesty, the timidity of the one, 
 the grace, the dignity, the majesty of the 
 other, and in both, the inimitable art with 
 which these characters are expressed, are, 
 in general, the qualities which first impress 
 themselves upon the imagination of jhe 
 spectator ; yet the man of the best taste 
 may afterwards see them, without thinking 
 of any such expressions. He may observe 
 their dimensions, he may study their pro-, 
 portions, he may attend to the particular 
 state of their preservation, the history of 
 their discovery, or even the nature of the 
 marble of which they are made. All these 
 are as truly qualities of these statues, as 
 their majesty or their grace, and may cer- 
 tainly, at particular times, happen to engage 
 the attention of the man of the most refin-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 99 
 
 ed taste. That in such cases, no Emotion 
 of Beauty would be felt, and that before it 
 could be felt, it would be necessary for the 
 spectator to withdraw his mind from the 
 consideration of such unafFecting qualities, 
 is too obvious to require any illustration. 
 
 The same observation is applicable to 
 every other production of Taste. There is 
 no poem, no painting, no musical composi- 
 tion, however beautiful or sublime, that has 
 not many qualities or attributes, that are 
 altogether uninteresting, and which may 
 not be made the object of attention at par- 
 ticular times, although in general they are 
 left out of consideration. The Inversions 
 of Milton, the compound Epithets of Thom- 
 son, are as really qualities of their compo- 
 sitions, as the sublimity of the one, or the 
 tenderness of the other. The person who 
 should make such qualities alone the ob- 
 ject of his attention, in the perusal of the 
 Seasons, or the Paradise Lost, though he 
 might certainly receive some instruction*
 
 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 would doubtless receive little delight ; and 
 if he were really capable of feeling the Su- 
 blimity or Beauty which distinguish these 
 compositions, it must be to other and more 
 affecting qualities of them that he must 
 turn his regard. While these minute and 
 unaffecting circumstances were the objects 
 of his attention, he could be conscious of 
 no greater emotion than what he might re- 
 ceive from the perusal of the most unani- 
 mated prose. It is in consequence of this, 
 that the exercise of Criticism never fails to 
 destroy, for the time, our sensibility to the 
 beauty of every composition, and that ha- 
 bits of this kind so generally end in destroy- 
 ing the sensibility of Taste. They accus- 
 tom us to consider every composition in re- 
 lation only to rules ; they turn our atten- 
 tion from those qualities upon which their 
 effect is founded as objects of Taste, to the 
 consideration of the principles by which 
 this effect is attained ; and instead of that 
 deep and enthusiastic delight which the
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 101 
 
 perception of Beauty or Sublimity bestows, 
 they afford us at last no higher enjoyment, 
 than what arises from the observation of the 
 dexterity of Art. 
 
 2. The effect of Familiarity, which has 
 so often been observed, in diminishing our 
 sensibility to the objects of Taste, may serve 
 also as an illustration of the same principle. 
 This effect indeed is generally resolved into 
 the influence of habit, which in this, as in 
 every other case, is supposed to diminish 
 the strength of our emotions ; yet that it is 
 not solely to be ascribed to habit, seems 
 evident from the following consideration, 
 that such indifference is never permanent, 
 and that there are times when the most fa- 
 miliar objects awaken us to the fullest sense 
 of their beauty. The necessity which we 
 are under of considering all such objects 
 when familiar, in very different aspects from 
 those in which they appear to us as objects 
 of Beauty, and of attending only to their 
 unaffecting qualities, may perhaps belter
 
 102 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 account both for this gradual decay of our 
 sensibility, and for its temporary returns. 
 
 When a man of any taste, for instance, 
 first settles in a romantic country, he is wil- 
 ling to flatter himself that he can never be 
 satiated with its beauties, and that in their 
 contemplation he shall continue to receive 
 the same exquisite delight. The aspect in 
 which he now sees them, is solely that in 
 which they are calculated to produce Emo- 
 tion. The streams are known to him only 
 by their gentleness or their majesty, the 
 woods by their solemnity, the rocks by 
 their awfulness or terror. In a very short 
 time, however, he is forced to consider them 
 in very different lights. They are useful to 
 him for some purposes, either of occupa- 
 tion or amusement. They serve as distinc- 
 tions of different properties, or of different 
 divisions of the country. They become 
 boundaries or landmarks, by which his 
 knowledge of the neighbourhood is ascer- 
 
 o 
 
 laincd. It is with these qualities that he 
 10
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 
 
 hears them usually spoken of by all who 
 surround him. It is in this light that he 
 must often speak and think of them him- 
 self. It is with these qualities accordingly, 
 that ho comes at last insensibly to consider 
 them, in the common hours of his life. 
 Even a circumstance so trifling as the as- 
 signation of particular names, contributes 
 in a great degree to produce this effect ; 
 because the use of such names, in marking 
 the particular situation or place of such ob- 
 jects, naturally leads him to consider the 
 objects themselves in no other light than 
 that of their place or situation. It is with 
 very different feelings that he must now re- 
 gard the objects that were once so full of 
 beauty. They now occur to his mind, on* 
 ly as topographical distinctions, and are 
 beheld with the indifference such qualities 
 naturally produce. Their majesty, their 
 solemnity, their terror, &c. are gradually 
 obscured, under the mass of unaffecting 
 qualities with which hje is obliged to consi-
 
 104 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 der them ; and excepting at those times 
 when either their appearances or their ex- 
 pressions are new, or when some other inci- 
 dent has awakened that tone or temper of 
 thought with which their expressions agree, 
 and when of consequence he is disposed to 
 consider them in the light of this expression 
 alone, he must be content at last to pass 
 his life without any perception of their 
 beauty. 
 
 It is on the same account that the great 
 and the opulent, become gradually so indif- 
 ferent to those articles of elegance or mag- 
 nificence with which they are surrounded, 
 and which are so effectual in exciting the 
 admiration of other men. The man of in- 
 ferior rank, whose situation prevents him 
 from all familiarity with such objects, sees 
 them in the light of their magnificence and 
 elegance alone ; he sees them, too, as signs 
 of that happiness and refined pleasure, 
 which men in his condition so usually and 
 so falsely attribute to those of elevated
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 105 
 
 rank ; and he feels accordingly all that un- 
 mingled emotion of admiration which such 
 expressions are fitted to produce. But the 
 possessor must often see them in different 
 lights. Whatever may be their elegance or 
 their beauty, they still serve some end, or 
 answer some purpose of his establishment. 
 They are destined to some particular use, 
 or are ornaments of some particular place : 
 They are articles in the furniture of such a 
 room, or ingredients in the composition of 
 such a scene : They were designed by such 
 an artist, executed after such a model, or 
 cost such a sum of money. In such, or in 
 some other equally uninteresting light, he 
 must frequently be obliged both to speak 
 and to think of them. In proportion as the 
 habit of considering them in such a light 
 increases, his disposition, or his opportunity 
 to consider them as objects of Taste dimi- 
 nishes. Their elegance or their magnifi- 
 cence gradually disappears, until at last he 
 comes to regard them (excepting at parti*
 
 106 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 cular times) with no farther emotion, than 
 what he receives from the common furni- 
 ture of his house. The application of the 
 same observation to many more important 
 sources of our happiness, is too obvious to 
 require any illustration. 
 
 There is no man, in like manner, acquaint- 
 ed with the history or the literature of an- 
 tiquity, w^ho has not felt his imagination 
 inflamed by the most trifling circumstances 
 connected with such periods. The names 
 t)f the Ilyssus, the Tiber, the Forum, the 
 Capitol, &c. have a kind of established 
 grandeur in our apprehensions, because the 
 only light in which we regard them, is that 
 of their relation to those past scenes of great- 
 ness. No man, however, is weak enough 
 to believe, that to the citizen of Athens, or 
 of Rome, such names were productive of 
 similar emotions. To him they undoubted- 
 ly conveyed no other ideas, than those of 
 the particular divisions of the city in which 
 he dwelt, and were heard 5 of consequence,
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 107 
 
 with the same indifference that the citizen 
 of London now hears of the Strand, or the 
 Tower. 
 
 3. The influence of Fashion, in produ- 
 cing so frequent revolutions in the sentiments 
 of men, with regard to the beauty of those 
 objects to which it extends, and in dispos- 
 ing us to neglect or to despise at one time, 
 the objects which we considered as beauti- 
 ful before, may perhaps be explained upon 
 the same principle. Fashion may be con- 
 sidered in general as the custom of the 
 great. It is the dress, the furniture, the 
 language, the manners of the great world, 
 which constitute what is called the Fashion 
 in each of these articles, and which the rest 
 of mankind are in such haste to adopt, after 
 their example. Whatever the real beauty 
 or propriety of these articles may be, it is 
 not in this light that we consider them. They 
 are the signs of that elegance and taste, and 
 splendour, which is so liberally attributed 
 to elevated rank j they are associated with
 
 108 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 the consequence which such situations be- 
 stow ; and they establish a kind of exter* 
 nal distinction between this envied station, 
 and those humble and mortifying conditions 
 of life, to which no man is willing to belong. 
 It is in the light therefore of this connection 
 only, that we are disposed to consider them ; 
 and they accordingly affect us with the same 
 emotion of delight, which we receive from 
 the consideration of taste or elegance* in 
 more permanent instances. As soon, how- 
 ever, as this association is destroyed, as soon 
 as the caprice or the inconstancy of the 
 great have introduced other usages in their 
 place, our opinion of their beauty is imme- 
 diately destroyed. The quality which was 
 formerly so pleasing or so interesting in 
 them, the quality which alone we consider- 
 ed, is now appropriated to other objects, 
 and our admiration readily transfers itself 
 to those newer forms, which have risen in- 
 to distinction from the same cause. The 
 forsaken Fashion, whatever may be its real
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 109 
 
 or intrinsic beauty, falls, for the present at 
 least, into neglect or contempt; because, 
 either our admiration of it was founded only 
 upon that quality which it has lost, or be- 
 cause it has now descended to the inferior 
 ranks, and is of consequence associated with 
 ideas of meanness ^and vulgarity. A few 
 years bring round again the same Fashion. 
 The same association attends it, and our 
 admiration is renewed as before. It is on 
 the same account, that they who are most 
 liable to the seduction of Fashion, are people 
 on whose minds the slighter associations 
 have a strong effect. A plain man is incap- 
 able of such associations : a man of sense 
 is above them ; but the young and the fri- 
 volous, whose principles of T^aste are either 
 unformed, or whose minds are unable to 
 maintain 'any settled opinions, are apt to 
 lose sight of every other quality in such ob- 
 jects, but their relation to the practice of 
 the great, and of course, to suffer their sen- 
 timents of beauty to vary with the capric*
 
 110 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 of this practice. It is the same cause which 
 attaches the old to the fashions of their 
 youth. They are associated with the me- 
 mory of their better days, with a- thousand 
 recollections of happiness and gaiety, and 
 heartfelt pleasures, which they now no longer 
 feel. The Fashions of modern times have 
 no such pleasing associations to them. They 
 are connected to them, only with ideas of 
 thoughtless gaiety, or childish caprice. It 
 is the Fashions of their youth alone, there- 
 fore, that they consider as beautiful. 
 
 III. 
 
 It may farther be observed, that the de- 
 pendence of Taste upon Sensibility, or the 
 necessity of some simple Emotion being ex- 
 cited, before the Beauty or Sublimity of any 
 object is perceived, is so far from being re- 
 mote from general observation, that it is 
 the foundation of some of the most common 
 judgments we form with regard to the cha- 
 racters of men.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. Ill 
 
 1. When we are but slightly acquainted 
 with any person, and have had no oppor- 
 tunities of knowing the particular nature 
 of his sentiments or turn of mind, we never 
 venture to pronounce, or even to guess with 
 regard to his Taste ; and if, in such a stage 
 of our acquaintance, we find that his opi- 
 nions of Beauty are very different from our 
 own, we are so far from being surprised at 
 it, that we set ourselves very deliberately to 
 account for it, either by recalling to mind 
 those habits or occupations of his life which 
 may have led him to different kinds of emo- 
 tion, or by supposing that his natural sensi- 
 bility is very different from our own. On 
 the other hand, when we are well acquaint- 
 ed with any person, and know intimately 
 the particular turn or sensibility of his mind, 
 although we should never have happened to 
 know his sentiments of Sublimity or Beau- 
 ty, we yet venture very boldly to pronounce, 
 whether any particular class of objects will 
 affect him with such sentiments or not. The
 
 foundation of our judgment, in such cases, 
 is the agreement or disagreement of such 
 objects, with the particular turn or charac- 
 ter of his affections ; and if we are well ac- 
 quainted with the person, our judgment is 
 seldom wrong. In the same manner, al- 
 though we are altogether unacquainted with 
 any person, yet if we are informed of his 
 particular Taste, or of his favourite objects 
 of Beauty or Sublimity, we not only feel 
 ourselves disposed to conclude from thence, 
 with regard to his particular turn or charac- 
 ter of mind, but if the instances are suffi- 
 ciently numerous, we in general conclude 
 right. It is scarcely possible for any man 
 to read the works of a Poet, without form- 
 ing some judgment of his character and af- 
 fections as a man, or without concluding, 
 that the magnanimity, the tenderness, the 
 gaiety, or the melancholy, distinguished 
 him in private life, which characterize the 
 scenes or descriptions of his works. I am 
 far from contending, that such judgments,
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY; 113 
 
 ia general, are just ; not only from the rash- 
 ness with which they so commonly are 
 formed, but still more, in those cases where 
 we reason from any person's Taste, from 
 the impossibility of knowing whether this 
 Taste is genuine, or whether it is founded 
 upon some accidental associations. All 
 that I mean to conclude is, that such judg- 
 ments are a proof of the connection between 
 Taste and Sensibility ; and that they could 
 not be formed, unless we found from ex- 
 perience, that no qualities affect us with the 
 Pleasures of Taste, but such as are produc- 
 tive of some simple Emotion. 
 
 2. It is farther to be observed, that the 
 sense of the dependence of the Emotions of 
 Sublimity or Beauty, upon the accidental 
 or temporary disposition of the mind, is al- 
 so very strongly expressed, both in common 
 conduct and in common conversation. To 
 a man under some present impression of 
 joy, we should not venture to appeal with 
 regard to the beauty of any melancholy or 
 
 VOL. i. H
 
 114 NATURE Or THE EMOTIONS 
 
 pathetic composition. To a man under 
 the dominion of sorrow, we should much 
 less presume to present even the most beau- 
 tiful composition, which contained only 
 images of joy. In both cases, we should 
 feel, that the compositions in question de- 
 manded different emotions from those that 
 the persons had in their power to bestow ; 
 that while their present dispositions continu- 
 ed, there was no chance of the composi- 
 tion's being interesting to them ; and if we 
 really wished to know their opinions, we 
 would naturally wait till we found them in 
 such a disposition as was favourable to the 
 emotions to which either of the composi- 
 tions was addressed. 
 
 When any poem, or painting, or scene 
 in nature peculiarly affects us, we are gene- 
 rally in haste to shew it to some friend, 
 whose taste we know is similar to our own ; 
 and our minds are not fully satiated with 
 its beauties, until we are able to unite with 
 our own peculiar emotion, that pleasing 
 
 8
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 115 
 
 surprise which we participate with one, to 
 whom it is new, and that sentiment of glad- 
 ness, which it is so natural to feel, when we 
 find that we have been able to communi- 
 cate delight. It sometimes happens, how- 
 ever, that the person to whom we shew it 
 does not feel the pleasure we expected. In 
 such a case, though we are a little surpris- 
 ed, we are not much disappointed. We tell 
 him, that he happens not to be in the hu- 
 mour to be pleased ; that at another time we 
 are sure he will feel its beauty ; and though 
 we should not happen to know what is the 
 peculiar cause of his indifference, we yet 
 satisfy ourselves, that there is some cause 
 which prevents him from the indulgence of 
 the particular emotion which the scene or 
 the composition demands, and which we 
 know he is in general disposed to indulge. 
 It happens, accordingly, if AVC are really 
 well acquainted with the person, and if this 
 beauty is not founded upon some particular 
 association of our own, that our expecta-
 
 116 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 tion is gratified, and that, when he returns 
 to his ordinary temper of mind, he becomes 
 sensible to all the beauty or sublimity which 
 we had found in it. JVi any other instances 
 of the same kind might be produced. In 
 all cases, I think, where we discover in 
 other people a weaker sense with regard to 
 the beauty of particular objects than in our- 
 selves, and when we can recollect no acci- 
 dental association which may account for 
 the superiority of our own emotion, we are 
 naturally inclined to attribute it either to 
 some temporary occupation or embarrass- 
 ment of their minds when such objects were 
 presented to them, or if we find that this was 
 not the case, to some original deficiency in 
 the sensibility of their hearts. To say that 
 a man has no feelings of tenderness or mag- 
 nanimity, accounts to us at once for his 
 want of sensibility to the beauty of any ac- 
 tions or species of composition, which are 
 founded on such emotions. In the same 
 manner, to say that at any particular time 
 
 8
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 117 
 
 he was under the dominion of opposite feel- 
 ings, as fully accounts to us for his insensi- 
 bility at such a time to the beauty of such 
 actions or compositions. I apprehend, that 
 these very natural and very common judg- 
 ments could not be formed, unless we found 
 from experience, that those qualities only 
 are felt as beautiful or sublime, which are 
 found to produce emotion. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The proposition which I have now en- 
 deavoured to illustrate, might be illustrated 
 from a variety of other considerations, and 
 particularly from the nature of the Fine 
 Arts. The object of these Aits is to pro- 
 duce the Emotions of Taste ; and it might 
 easily be shown, 
 
 1. That the only subjects that are in them- 
 selves proper for the imitation of these Arts, 
 are such as are productive of some species 
 of Simple Emotion : 
 
 2. That when these subjects are of a con-
 
 118 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 trary kind, the method by which alone they 
 can be rendered either beautiful or sublime, 
 is by the addition of some interesting or af- 
 fecting quality : 
 
 3. That the extent, as well as the power 
 of the different fine arts, in producing such 
 emotions, is in proportion to the capacity 
 which they afford the artist of making such 
 additions ; and that, in this respect, Poetry, 
 by employing the instrument of language, 
 by means of which it can express every 
 quality of mind as well as of body, has a 
 decided superiority over the rest of these 
 arts, which are limited to the expression of 
 the qualities of body alone. 
 
 These considerations, however, besides 
 their being familiar to those who have re- 
 flected upon these subjects, would neces- 
 sarily lead to discussions far beyond the 
 limits of these Essays. The reader, who 
 would wish to see some of these principles 
 illustrated, will find it very fully and very
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 119 
 
 beautifully done in Dr Beattie's Essays up- 
 on Poetry and Music. 
 
 If the preceding illustrations are just : if 
 it is found, that no qualities are felt, either 
 as beautiful or sublime, but such as accord 
 with the habitual or temporary sensibility 
 of our minds ; that objects of the most ac- 
 knowledged beauty fail to excite their usual 
 emotions, when we regard them in the 
 light of any of their uninteresting or un- 
 affecting qualities ; and that our common 
 judgments of the characters of men are 
 founded upon this experience, it seems that 
 there can be no doubt of the truth of the 
 proposition itself.
 
 120 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 IF it is true, that those trains of thought 
 which attend the Emotions of Taste, are 
 uniformly distinguished by some general 
 principle of connection, it ought to be 
 found, that no Composition of objects or 
 qualities in fact produces such emotions, in 
 which this Unity of character or of emotion 
 is not preserved. This proposition also 
 may be illustrated from the most superficial 
 review of the Principles of Composition, in 
 the different Aits of Taste, 
 
 I. 
 
 There is no man of common Taste, who 
 has not often lamented that confusion of 
 expression which so frequently lakes place, 
 even in the most beautiful scenes of real 
 Nature, and which prevents him from in- 
 dulging to the full, the peculiar emotion
 
 01? SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 
 
 which the scene itself is fitted to inspire 
 The cheerfulness of the morning is often dis- 
 turbed by circumstances of minute or labo- 
 rious occupation, the solemnity of noon 
 by noise and bustling industry, the tran- 
 quillity and melancholy of evening by viva- 
 city and vulgar gaiety. It is seldom even 
 that any unity of character is preserved 
 among the inanimate objects of such scene- 
 ry. The sublimes t situations are often dis- 
 figured, by objects that we feel unworthy 
 of them, by the traces of cultivation, or 
 attempts towards improvement, by the 
 poverty of their woods, or of their streams, 
 or some other of their great constituent fea- 
 tures, by appearances of uniformity or re- 
 gularity, that almost induce the idea of art. 
 The loveliest scenes, in the same manner, 
 are frequently disturbed by unaccording 
 circumstances, by the signs of cultivation, 
 the regularity of inclosures, the traces of 
 manufactures, and, what is worse than all, 
 by the presumptuous embellishments of fan-
 
 122 MATURE OIF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 tastic Taste. Amid this confusion of inci- 
 dents, the general character of the scene is 
 altogether lost: we scarcely know to what 
 class of objects to give our attention ; and 
 having viewed it with astonishment, rather 
 than with delight, we at last busy ourselves 
 in imaginary improvements, and in conceiv- 
 ing what its beauty might be, if every fea- 
 ture were removed which now serves to inter- 
 rupt its expression, and to diminish its ef- 
 fect. 
 
 What we thus attempt in imagination, it 
 is the business of the art of Gardening to 
 execute ; and the great source of the supe- 
 riority of its productions to the original 
 scenes in nature, consists in the purity and 
 harmony of its composition, in the power 
 which the artist enjoys, to remove from his 
 landscape whatever is hostile to its effect, 
 or unsuited to its character, and, by select- 
 ing only such circumstances as accord with 
 the general expression of the scene, to 
 awaken an emotion more full, more simple.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 125 
 
 and more harmonious, than any we can re- 
 ceive from the scenes of Nature itself. 
 
 It is by this rule, accordingly, that the ex- 
 cellence of all such compositions is deter- 
 mined. In real Nature, we often forgive, 
 or are willing to forget slight inaccuracies 
 or trifling inconsistencies ; but in such pro- 
 ductions of design, we expect and require 
 more perfect correspondence. Every ob- 
 ject that is not suited to the character of the 
 scene, or that has not an effect in strength- 
 ening the expression by which it is distin- 
 guished, we condemn as an intrusion, and 
 consider as a reproach upon the taste of the 
 artist. When this expectation, on the con- 
 trary, is fully gratified, when the circum- 
 stances of the scenery are all such as accord 
 with the peculiar emotion which the scene is 
 fitted to inspire, when the hand of the artist 
 disappears, and the embellishments of his 
 fancy press themselves upon our belief, as 
 the voluntary profusion of Nature, we im- 
 mediately pronounce that the composition
 
 124 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 is perfect ; we acknowledge that he has at- 
 tained the end of his ait ; and, in yielding 
 ourselves up to the emotion which his com- 
 position demands, we afford him the most 
 convincing mark of our applause. In the 
 power which the ait of gardening thus pos- 
 sesses, in common with the other fine arts, 
 of withdrawing; from its imitations whatever 
 
 o 
 
 is inconsistent with their expression, and of 
 adding whatever may contribute to strength- 
 en, or to extend their effect, consists the 
 great superiority which it possesses over the 
 originals from which they are copied. 
 
 II. 
 
 The art of Landscape painting is yet su- 
 perior in its effect, from the capacity which 
 the artist enjoys, of giving both greater ex- 
 tent and greater unity to his composition. 
 In the art of gardening, the great materials 
 of the scene are provided by Nature, and 
 the artist must satisfy himself with that de- 
 gree of expression which she has bestowed.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 125 
 
 In a landscape, on the contrary, the pain- 
 ter has the choice of the circumstances he 
 is to represent, and can give whatever force 
 or extent he pleases to the expression he 
 wishes to convey. In gardening, the mate- 
 rials of the scene are few, and those few 
 unwieldy ; and the artist must often con- 
 tent himself with the reflection, that he has 
 given the best disposition in his power to 
 the scanty and intractable materials of Na- 
 ture. In a landscape, on the contrary, the 
 whole range of scenery is before the eye of 
 the painter. He may select from a thou- 
 sand scenes, the circumstances which are 
 to characterize a single composition, and 
 may unite into one expression, the scattered 
 features with which Nature has feebly 
 marked a thousand situations. The mo- 
 mentary effects of light or shade, the fortu- 
 nate incidents which chance sometimes 
 throws in, to improve the expression of 
 real scenery, and which can never again be 
 recalled, he has it in his power to perpc-
 
 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 tuate upon his canvas : Above all, the oc- 
 cupations of men, so important in deter- 
 mining, or in heightening the characters of 
 Nature, and which are seldom compatible 
 with the scenes of gardening, fall easily 
 within the reach of his imitation, and afford 
 him the means of producing both greater 
 strength, and greater unity of expression, 
 than is to be found either in the rude, or in 
 the embellished state of real scenery. 
 
 AVhile it is by the invention of such cir- 
 cumstances that we estimate the genius of 
 the artist, it is by their composition that his 
 Taste is uniformly determined. The mere 
 assemblage of picturesque incidents, the 
 most unimproved Taste will condemn. 
 Some general principle is universally de- 
 manded, some decided expression, to which 
 the meaning of the several parts may be re- 
 ferred, and which, by affording us, as it 
 were, the key of the scene, may lead us to 
 feel, from the whole of the composition, that 
 full and undisturbed emotion which we are
 
 OP SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 12? 
 
 prepared to indulge. It is this purity and 
 simplicity of composition, accordingly, 
 which has uniformly distinguished the great 
 masters of the art from the mere copiers of 
 Nature. It is by their adherence to it, that 
 their fame has been attained ; and the 
 names of Salvator and Claude Lorrain, can 
 scarcely be mentioned, without bringing to 
 mind the peculiar character of their com- 
 positions, and the different emotions which 
 their representations of Nature are destined 
 to produce. 
 
 It is not, however, on our first acquaint- 
 ance with this art, that we either discover 
 its capacity, or feel its effects ; and perhaps 
 the progress of Taste, in this respect, may 
 afford a further illustration of the <n*eat 
 
 o 
 
 and fundamental Principle of Composition. 
 What we first understand of painting is. 
 that it is a simple art of imitation, and what 
 we expect to find in it, is the representation 
 of the common scenes of nature that sur- 
 round us. It is with some degree of sur-
 
 128 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 prise, accordingly, that we at first observe 
 the different scenery with which the Paint- 
 er presents us, and with an emotion rather 
 of wonder, than of delight, that we gaze at 
 a style of landscape, which has so little 
 resemblance to the ordinary views to which 
 we are accustomed. In the copy of a real 
 scene, we can discover and admire the skill 
 of the artist ; but in the representation of 
 desert or of desolate prospects, in appear- 
 ances of Solitude or Tempest, we perceive 
 no traces of imitation, and wonder only at 
 the perversity of Taste, which could have 
 led to the choice of so disagreeable sub- 
 jects. 
 
 As soon, however, as from the progress 
 of our own sensibility, or from our acquaint- 
 ance with poetical composition, we begin 
 to connect expression with such views of 
 Nature, we begin also to understand and to 
 feel the beauties of landscape-painting. It 
 it is with a different view that we now con- 
 sider it. It is not for imitation we look,
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 129 
 
 but for character. It is not the art, but the 
 genius of the Painter, which now gives va- 
 lue to his compositions ; and the language 
 he employs is found not only to speak to 
 the eye, but to affect the imagination and 
 the heart. It is not now a simple copy 
 which we see, nor is our Emotion limited 
 to the cold pleasure which arises from the 
 perception of accurate Imitation. It is a 
 creation of Fancy with which the artist pre- 
 sents us, in which only the greater expres- 
 sions of Nature are retained, and where 
 more interesting emotions are awakened, 
 than those which we experience from the 
 usual tameness of common scenery. In the 
 same proportion in which we thus discover 
 the expression of landscape, we begin to 
 collect the principles' of its composition. 
 The crowd of incidents which used to daa/le 
 our earlier Taste, as expressive both of the 
 skill and of the invention of the artist, be- 
 !>in to appear to us as inconsistence or con- 
 fusion. When our hearts are atu-clcd, we 
 
 VOL I. I
 
 130 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 seek only for objects congenial to our emo- 
 tion : and the Simplicity, which we used to 
 call the Poverty of landscape, begins now 
 to be welcome to us, as permitting us to in- 
 dulge, without interruption, those interesting 
 trains of thought which the character of the 
 scene is fitted to inspire. As our know- 
 ledge of the expressions of Nature increases, 
 our sensibility to the beauty or to the de- 
 fects of composition becomes more keen, 
 until at last our admiration attaches itself 
 only to those greater productions of the art, 
 in which one pure and un mingled charac- 
 ter is preserved, and in which no feature is 
 admitted, which may prevent it from falling 
 upon the heart with one full and harmo- 
 nious effect. 
 
 In this manner, the object of painting is 
 no sooner discovered, than the unity of ex- 
 pression is felt to be the great secret of its 
 power ; the superiority which it at last as- 
 sumes over the scenery of Nature, is found 
 to arise, in one important respect, from the
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 131 
 
 greater purity and simplicity which its com- 
 position can attain ; and perhaps this sim- 
 ple rule comprehends all that Criticism can 
 prescribe for the regulation of this delight- 
 ful art. 
 
 III. 
 
 But whatever may be the superiority of 
 painting to the originals from which it is 
 copied, it is still limited, in comparison of 
 that which Poetry enjoys. The Painter 
 addresses himself to the Eye. The Poet 
 speaks to the Imagination. The Painter 
 
 JL O 
 
 can represent no other qualities of Nature, 
 but those which we discern by the sense of 
 
 sight. The Poet can blend with those, all 
 
 ~ 
 
 the qualities which we perceive by means 
 of our other senses. The painter can sei/e 
 only one moment of existence, and can re- 
 present no other qualities of objects thau 
 what this single moment affords. The 
 whole 4 history of Nature is within the reach 
 of the Poet, the varying appearances which
 
 132 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 its different productions assume in the pro- 
 gress of their growth and decay, and the 
 powerful effects which are produced by the 
 contrast of these different aspects or expres- 
 sions. The Painter can give to the objects 
 of his scenery, only the visible and material 
 qualities which are discerned by the eye, 
 and must leave the interpretation of their 
 expression to the imagination of the specta- 
 tor; but the Poet can give animation to 
 whatever he describes. All the sublimity 
 and beauty of the moral and intellectual 
 world are at his disposal ; and, by bestow- 
 ing on the inanimate objects of his scenery 
 the characters and affections of mind, he 
 can produce at once an expression which 
 every capacity may understand, and every 
 heart may feel. Whatever may be the ad- 
 yanlage which painting enjoys, from the 
 greater clearness and precision of its images, 
 it is much more than balanced by the un- 
 bounded powers which the instrument of 
 language affords to the Poet, both in the sep
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 133 
 
 lection of the objects of his description, and 
 in the decision of their expression. 
 
 It is, accordingly, by the preservation of 
 Unity of character or expression, that the 
 excellence of poetical description is deter- 
 mined; and perhaps the superior advantages 
 which the Poet enjoys, in the choice of his 
 materials, renders our demand for its obser- 
 vance more rigid, than in any of the other 
 arts of Taste. In real Nature, we willingly 
 accommodate ourselves to the ordinary de- 
 fects of scenery, and accept with gratitude 
 those singular aspects in which some pre- 
 dominant character is tolerably preserved. 
 In the compositions of Gardening, we make 
 allowance for the narrow limits within 
 which the invention of the aitist is confined, 
 and are dissatisfied only when great incon- 
 sistencies are retained. Even in painting, 
 we are still mindful that it is the objects on- 
 ly of one sense that the artist can represent ; 
 and rather lament his restraints, than con- 
 demn his Taste, if our minds are not fully
 
 134 NATURE Ol' THE EMOTIONS 
 
 impressed with the emotions he studies to 
 raise, or if the different incidents of his 
 composition do not fully accord in the de- 
 gree, as well as in the nature of their ex- 
 pression. But the descriptions of the Poet 
 can claim no such indulgence. With the 
 capacity of blending in Ins composition the 
 
 I / O 
 
 objects of every sense ; with the past and 
 the future, as well as the present, in his 
 power ; above all, with the mighty spell of 
 mind at his command, with which he can 
 raise every object that he touches into life 
 and sentiment, we feel that he is unworthy 
 of his art, if our imaginations are not sa- 
 tiated with his composition, and if in the 
 chastity, as well as the power of his ex- 
 pression, he has not gratified the demand 
 of our hearts. 
 
 It would be an unpleasing, and indeed 
 an unnecessary task, to illustrate this ob- 
 servation by the defects or absurdities of 
 Poets of interior genius, or imperfect taste. 
 It will perhaps be more useful., to produce
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 
 
 a few instances of description from some of 
 the greatest Poets, in which very trifling 
 circumstances serve to destroy, or at least 
 to diminish their effect, when they do not 
 fully coincide with the nature of the emo- 
 tion which the descriptions are intended to 
 raise. 
 
 In that fine passage in the second book 
 of the Georgics, in AvludjLYkgil celebrates 
 the praises of his native country, after these 
 fine lines, 
 
 Hie vcr assiduum atque alienis racnsibus aestas. 
 Bis gravidas pccudes, bis pomis utilis arbos : 
 At rabidae tigres absunt, et saeva leonum 
 Semina, nee miscros fallunt aconita legentes, 
 Nee rapit immensos orbes per humura, neque tanto 
 Squameus in spirara tractu se colligit angius. 
 
 There is no reader whose enthusiasm is not 
 checked by the cold and prosaic line which 
 follows : 
 
 Adde tot egregias urbes, opcrumque laborera.
 
 136 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 The tamencss and vulgarity of the "tran- 
 sition dissipates at once the emotion we 
 had shared with the Poet, and reduces him, 
 in our opinion, to the level of a mere de- 
 scriber. 
 
 The effect of the following nervous and 
 beautiful lines in the conclusion of the same 
 book, is nearly destroyed by a similar de- 
 fect. After these lines, 
 
 Ilanc olim vcteres vitam coluerc Sabiui, 
 Ilanc Remus et frater; sic fortis Etruria crevit, 
 Scilicet et rerum facta est pulcherrima Roma. 
 
 We little expect the following spiritless con- 
 clusion : 
 
 Septemque uua sibi muro circumdedit arccs. 
 
 There is a still more surprising instance 
 of this fault in one of the most pathetic 
 passages of the whole poem, in the descrip- 
 tion of the disease among the cattle, which
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY. 137 
 
 concludes the third Ceorgic. The passage 
 is as follows : 
 
 Eccc autcm duro fumans sub vomere taurus 
 Concidit : et mixtum spumis vomit ore cruorem* 
 Extrcmosque ciet gcmitus : it tristis arator 
 Mcercntem abjungcns fratcrna morte juvcncum, 
 Atquc opcre in niedio dcfixa rclinquit araira. 
 
 The unhappy image in the second line is 
 less calculated to excite compassion than dis- 
 gust, and is singularly ill-suited to that tone 
 of tenderness and delicacy which the poet 
 has everywhere else so successfully main- 
 tained, in describing the progress of this 
 loathsome disease. 
 
 In the speech of Agamemnon to Idome- 
 ncus, in the fourth book of the Iliad, a cir- 
 cumstance is introduced altogether incon- 
 sistent both with the dignity of the speech,, 
 and the majesty of Epic Poetry : 
 
 Divine Idomeneus ! what thanks we owe 
 To worth like thine, what praise shall we bestow !.
 
 158 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 To Thee the foremost honours are decreed, 
 First in the fight, and every graceful deed. 
 For this, in banquets, when the generous bowls 
 Restore our blood, and raise the warriors souls, 
 Tho' all the rest M'ith stated rules be bound, 
 Unmix'd. unmeasur'd are thy goblets crown'd. 
 
 Instances of the same defect may be found 
 in the comparison of the sudden cure of 
 Mars's wound to the coagulation of curds, 
 in that of Ajax retreating before the Tro- 
 jans to an ass driven by boys from a field 
 
 t* * ** 
 
 of corn, in the comparison of an obsti- 
 nate combat between the Greeks and the 
 Trojans, to the stubborn struggle between 
 two peasants, about the limits of their re- 
 spective grounds, in that of Ajax flying 
 from ship to ship, to encounter the Trojans, 
 to a horseman riding several horses at once, 
 and showing his dexterity, by vaulting from 
 one to another. 
 
 There is a similar fault in the two follow- 
 ing passages from Milton, where the intro- 
 duction of trifling and ludicrous circum-
 
 OF SUB LIMIT I" AXD BEAUTY. 139 
 
 stances diminishes the Beauty of the one, 
 and the Sublimity of the other. 
 
 Now Morn her rosy steps iu the eastern clime 
 Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl, 
 When Adam wak'd : so custom'' d, for Jtis sleep 
 Was air i) light , from pure digestion bred^ 
 And temperate vapours bland, which th' only sound 
 Of leaves, and fuming rills, Aurora's fan 
 Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill matin song 
 Of birds on every bough. 
 
 Book T. 
 
 They ended parle, and both address' d for fight 
 Unspeakable : for who, though with the tongue 
 Of angels, can relate, or to what things 
 Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
 Human imagination to such height 
 Of godlike power ? for likcst gods they scem'd ; 
 Stood they or mov'd, in stature, motion, arms. 
 Fit to decide the empire of great Heav'n. 
 Now wav'd their fiery swords, and in the air 
 Made horrid circles : two broad suns their shields* 
 Blaz'd opposite, while Expectation stood 
 In horror ; from each hand with speed retired, 
 Where erst zcas thickest fight % th' angelic throng, 
 And left large Jteld^ unsafe izithin the icind 
 Of such commotion. 
 
 f'wot vi.
 
 140 MATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 In the following passage from the sixth 
 book of Lucan's Pharsalia, where he de- 
 scribes the incantations of the witch Eryc- 
 tho, and of whose voice he had before said 
 with great sublimity, 
 
 Omne nefas superi, prima jam VOCG precantis 
 Concedunt, carmenque timent audire secundum, 
 
 in labouring to increase the terror of the 
 
 o 
 
 reader, he has rendered his description al- 
 most ludicrous, by accumulating images 
 which serve only to confuse, and which in 
 themselves have scarcely any other relation 
 than that of mere noise. 
 
 Turn vox Lethzeos cunctis pollentior hcrbis 
 Excantare Deos, confundit murmura primum 
 Dissona, et humans multum discordia linguae. 
 Latratus habot ilia canum, gemitusquc luporum 
 Quod trepidus bubo, quod strix nocturna queruntur, 
 Quod strident, ululantque fcra;, quod sibilat anguis ? 
 Exprimit, ct planctus illisa? cautibus undaa 
 Silvarunique sonum, fractaequc tonitrua nubb ; 
 Tot rcruKi vox una fuit.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 141 
 
 Such a collection of unaccordine images 
 
 O O 
 
 is scarcely less absurd than the following 
 description of the Nightingale, by Marini : 
 
 Una voce pennuta, un_suon' volante 
 E vestito di pennc, un vivo fiato, 
 Una piuma canora, un canto alato, 
 Un spirituel che d' harmonia composto 
 Vive in anguste viscere nascosto. 
 
 Even less obvious inconsistencies are suf- 
 ficient to diminish the effect of poetical de- 
 scription, when they do not perfectly coin- 
 cide with the general emotion. 
 
 There is a circumstance introduced in 
 the following passage from Horace r which 
 is liable to this censure : 
 
 Solvitur acris Hycms, grata vice vcris ct Favoni, 
 
 Trahuntque siccas machine cariuas, 
 Ac nequc jam stabulis gaudct pccus, aut arator igni, 
 
 Ncc prata canis albicant primus. 
 Jam Cytherea chores ducit Venus, immincntc Luna 3 
 
 Junctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes 
 Altcrno tcrram quatiunt pedc.
 
 J42 NATURE Or THE EMOTIONS 
 
 The image contained in the second line is 
 
 o 
 
 obviously improper. It suggests ideas of 
 labour, and difficulty, and art, and has no 
 correspondence with that emotion of glad- 
 ness with which we behold the return of the 
 Spring, and which is so successfully main- 
 tained by the iiay and pleusino 1 imagery in 
 
 */ O ** O O ^ 
 
 the rest of the passage. 
 
 In a description of the morning, in the 
 charming poem of the Minstrel, there is a 
 circumstance to which the severity of Criti- 
 cism might object upon llie same principle : 
 
 The cottage curs at early pilgrim bark, 
 Crown'd with her pail, the tripping milkmaid sings, 
 The whistling ploughman stalks afield, and hark I 
 Down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings- 
 
 The image in the last line, though undoubt- 
 edly a striking one in itself, and very beau- 
 tifully described, is yet improper, as it is 
 inconsistent both with the period of society, 
 and the scenery of the country to which 
 the Minstrel refers.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 143 
 
 There is a similar error in the following 
 
 o 
 
 fine description from Shakespeare; 
 
 The current, that Avith gentle murmur glides, 
 Thou know'st, being stopp'dj impatiently doth rage ; 
 But when his fair course is not hindered, 
 He makes sweet music with the enamcll'd stones, 
 Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 
 He overtaketh in his pilgrimage : 
 And so by many winding nooks he strays 
 With willing sport to the wild ocean. 
 
 The pleasing personification which we 
 attribute to a brook, is founded upon the 
 faint belief of voluntary motion, and is im- 
 mediately checked, when the Poet descends 
 to any minute or particular resemblance. 
 
 Even in that inimitable description which 
 Virgil has given of a storm, in the first book 
 of the Georgics, a very accurate Taste may 
 perhaps discover some slight deficiencies: 
 
 Saepe etiain immensum ccelo venit agmen aquarum } 
 Et ftcdam glomcrant tcmpcstatem imbribus atris 
 Collectae ex alto nubes. Unit arduus Aether 
 Et phrciii ingenti sat a Iceta^ boumque l(/bore.<? s
 
 ^ A TU R E O T T f I E E M () T 1 ( ) N S 
 
 Diluit. Implentur fossa.', ct cava fluiiuiia civsciuic 
 Cuia sonitu, fervetque fretis spirantibus ceqnor. 
 Jpsc pater, meclid nimborura in floct.o, conisca 
 Fulmina molitur dextr&, quo maxuma motu 
 Terra tremit : fugerc ferae, ct mortalia corda 
 Per gentes humiles stravit pavor. Ille flagrant! 
 Aut Atho, aut Rhodopen,, aut alta Ceraunia telo 
 Dejicit: ingeminant Austri, et densissimus inibcr. 
 
 If there was any passage to which I 
 would object in these wonderful Ihies, it 
 would be to those that are marked in Italics. 
 I acknowledge, indeed, that the " pluvia in- 
 " genii sata laeta boumque labores diluit," 
 is defensible from the connection of the 
 imagery with the subject of the poem ; but 
 the " implentur fossiu" is both an unneces- 
 sary and a degrading circumstance, when 
 compared wilh the magnificent effects that 
 are described in the rest of the passage;. 
 
 I shall conclude these illustrations, with 
 two passages, descriptive of the same scene, 
 from different Poets, in which the effects of 
 imperfect and of harmonious composition 
 are strikingly exemplified.
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 145 
 
 In the " Argonautica * of Apollonius 
 Rhodius, when Medea is described in a 
 state of deep agitation between her unwil- 
 lingness to betray her father, and her desire 
 to save her lover Jason, the anxiety of her 
 mind is expressed by the folio wing contrast, 
 of which I give a literal translation: 
 
 o 
 
 " The night now covered the earth with 
 " her shade ; and in the open sea the pi- 
 " lots, upon their decks, observed the star 
 " of Orion. The travellers and the watch- 
 " men slumbered. Even the grief of mo- 
 "'thers who had lost their children, was sus- 
 " pended by sleep. In the cities there 
 " was neither heard the cry of dogs, nor 
 " the noise nor murmur of men. Silence 
 " reigrted in the midst of darkness. Medea 
 
 o 
 
 " alone knew not the charms of this peace- 
 " ful night, so deeply was her soul impres- 
 " sed with fears for Jason/' 
 
 Virgil describes a similar situation, tas 
 follows : 
 
 VOL, i. K
 
 146 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 Nox erat, et placidum carpebant fessa soporem 
 Corpora per terras, sylvaeque et saeva quierant 
 j^Equora : quum medio volvuntur sidera lapsu 
 Quum tacet omnis ager : pecudes, pictaeque volucres, 
 Quaeque lacus late liquidos, quaeque aspera dumis 
 Rura tenent, somno positae sub nocte silenti 
 Lenibant curas, et corda oblita laborum : 
 At non infelix animi Phacnissa. 
 
 " On voit ici (says M. Marmontel, with 
 " his usual taste and discernment), non 
 " settlement la superiorite du talent, la vie, 
 " et Fame repandues dans une poesie har- 
 " monieuse, et du colons le plus pur, mais 
 " singulierement encore la superiorite du 
 " gout. Dans la peinture du poete Grec, il 
 " y a des details inutiles, il y en a des con- 
 " traires a 1'effet du tableau. Les observa- 
 " tions des pilotes, dans le silence de la 
 " nuit, portent eux-memes le caractere de 
 " la vigilance et de Fincjuietude, et ne con- 
 " trastent point avec le trouble de Medee. 
 " L'image d'une mere qui a perdu ses en- 
 " fants est faite pour distraire de celle d'une 
 " amante ; elle en afFoiblit Finteret, et le
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 147 
 
 " poete en la lui opposant, est al!6 centre 
 " son dessein ; au lieu que, dans le tableau 
 " de Virgile, tout est reduit a Tunite. C'est 
 " la nature entiere, dans le calme et dans le 
 " sommeil, tandis que la malheureuse Di- 
 " don veille seule, et se livre en proie a tous 
 " les tourments de Famous Enfin, dans le 
 " poete Grec, le cri des chiens, le sommeil 
 " des portiers, sont des details minutieux et 
 " indignes de Fepopee, au lieu que dans 
 " Virgile tout est noble et peint a grands 
 " traits : huit vers embrassent la nature/* 
 Encyclopedic, we. IMITATION. 
 
 In these illustrations of the necessity of 
 unity of expression, for the production of 
 the Emotions of Sublimity and Beauty, I 
 have chiefly. confined myself to such instan- 
 ces in poetry, as are descriptive of natural 
 scenery, because they are most within the 
 observation of that class of readers, to 
 whom any illustrations of this point are 
 necessary. The same principle extends, 
 with equal force, to every other branch of
 
 148 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 poetical imitation, to the description of the 
 characters, the sentiments, and the passions 
 of men : And one great source of the supe- 
 riority which such imitations have over the 
 originals . from which they are copied, con- 
 sists in these cases, as well as the former, 
 in the power which the artist enjoys, of 
 giving an unity of character to his descrip- 
 tions, which is not to be found in real Na- 
 ture. The illustration of this point, how- 
 ever, as well as of the general fact, that all 
 such descriptions are defective, in which 
 this unity is not preserved, I must leave to 
 the reader's own observation. In the same 
 view, I leave the consideration of the ef- 
 fect of Contrast ; a principle which may at 
 first seem adverse to these conclusions, but 
 which, in fact, is one of the strongest con- 
 firmations of them. The reader who is ac- 
 customed to such speculations, need not be 
 reminded, that the real end of Contrast is 
 to strengthen the effect of the general Emo- 
 tion, that its propriety is determined by
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 149 
 
 the nature of that Emotion, that it is justly 
 applied only in those cases where the Emo- 
 tion is violent and demands relief, or faint 
 and requires support, or long-continued 
 and needs repose, and that in all cases 
 where it exceeds these limits, or where it 
 does not serve to invigorate the character 
 of the Composition, it serves only to ob- 
 struct or to diminish its effect ; and the 
 reader to whom these principles are new, 
 may find amusement in verifying them. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Unity of character which is thus de- 
 manded in poetical description, for the pro- 
 duction of the Emotions of Taste, is de- 
 manded also in every species of poetical 
 Composition, whatever may be its extent. 
 
 In describing the events of life, it is the 
 business of the historian to represent them 
 as they really happened ; to investigate 
 their causes, however minute ; and to re- 
 port the motives of the actors, however
 
 150 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 base or mean. In a poetical representation 
 of such events, no such confusion is per- 
 mitted to appear. A representation des- 
 tined by its nature to affect, must not only 
 be founded upon some great or interesting 
 subject, but, in the management of this sub- 
 ject, such means only must be employed as 
 are fitted to preserve, and to promote the 
 interest and the sympathy of the reader. 
 The Historian who should relate the voyage 
 of jEneas, and the foundation of Rome, 
 must of necessity relate many trifling and 
 uninteresting events, which could be valu- 
 able only from their being true. The Poet 
 who should attempt this subject, must intro- 
 duce only pathetic or sublime events, 
 must unfold their connection with greater 
 clearness, must point out their conse- 
 quences as of greater moment, and must 
 spread over all that tone and character of 
 dignity which we both expect and demand 
 in a composition, destined to excite the 
 sensibility, and to awaken the admiration
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 151 
 
 of mankind. Even that species of poem 
 which has been called by the Critics the 
 Historical Epic, and which is only a poeti- 
 cal narration of real events, is yet in some 
 measure subjected to the same rule ; and 
 though we do not expect from it the su- 
 blime machinery, or the artful conduct of 
 the Teal Epic, we yet demand a more uni- 
 form tone of elevation, and a purer and 
 more dignified selection of incidents, than 
 from the strict narrative of real history. In 
 both, the Poet assumes the character of a 
 person deeply impressed with the magni- 
 tude or the interest of the story he relates. 
 To impress his reader with similar senti- 
 ments, is the end and object of his work ; 
 and he can no otherwise do this, than by 
 presenting to his mind only such incidents 
 as accord with these great emotions, by leav- 
 ing out whatever in the real history of the 
 event may be mean or uninteresting, and by 
 the invention of every circumstance that, 
 while it is consistent with probability, may
 
 NATURE OF THE EVICTIONS 
 
 raise the subject of his work into greater 
 importance in his esteem. That it is by 
 this rule accordingly the conduct of the 
 Epic Poem is determined, is too obvious 
 to require any illustration. 
 
 The same Unity of emotion is demanded 
 in Dramatic Poetry, at least in the highest 
 and noblest species of it, Tragedy ; and in 
 the conduct of the Drama, this unity of 
 character is fully as essential as any of those 
 three unities, of which every book of Criti- 
 cism is so full. If it is painful to us, when 
 we are deeply engaged in some great inte- 
 rest, to turn our minds to the consideration 
 of some other event, it is fully as painful to 
 us, in the midst of our admiration or our 
 sympathy* and while our hearts are swelling 
 with tender or with elevated emotions, to 
 descend to the consideration of minute, or 
 mean, or unimportant incidents, however 
 naturally they may be connected with the 
 story, or however much we may be con- 
 vinced that they actually took place. The
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 153 
 
 envy which Elizabeth entertained of the 
 beauty of Mary of Scotland, 'was certainly 
 one cause, and probably a great cause of 
 the distresses of that most unfortunate 
 Queen ; but if a Poet, in a tragedy founded 
 upon her pathetic story, should introduce 
 the scene which Melville describes in his 
 Memoirs, and in which the weakness of 
 Elizabeth is so apparent, we should consi- 
 der it both as degrading to the dignity of 
 Tragedy, and unsuited to the nature of the 
 emotion which the story is n't ted to raise. 
 It is hence that Tragi-comedy is utterly in- 
 defensible, after all that has been said in its 
 defence. If it is painful to us in such cases 
 to descend to the consideration of indiffer- 
 ent incidents, it is a thousand times more 
 painful to be forced to attend to those that 
 are ludicrous ; and there is no man of the 
 most common sensibility, who does not feel 
 his mind revolt, and his indignation kindle 
 at the absurdity of the Poet, who can thus 
 break in upon the sacred retirement of his
 
 154 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 sorrow, with the intolerable noise of vulgar 
 mirth. Had the taste of Shakespeare been 
 equal to his genius, or had his knowledge 
 of the laws of the Drama corresponded to 
 his knowledge of the human heart, the effect 
 of his compositions would not only have 
 been greater than it now is, but greater per- 
 haps than we can well imagine ; and had he 
 attempted to produce, through a whole 
 composition, that powerful and uniform in- 
 terest which he can raise in a single scene, 
 nothing of that perfection would have been 
 wanting, of which we may conceive this su- 
 blime art to be capable. 
 
 Of the necessity of this Unity of Emo- 
 tion, Cornell le is the first Tragedian of mo- 
 dern Europe who seems to have been sen- 
 sible ; and I know not whether the faults of 
 this Poet have not been exaggerated by 
 English Critics, from their inattention to 
 the end which he seems to have prescribed 
 to himself in his works. To present a faith- 
 ful picture of human life, or of human pas-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 155 
 
 sions, seems not to have been his concep- 
 tion of the intention of Tragedy. His ob- 
 ject, on the contrary, seems to have been, 
 to exalt and to elevate the imagination ; to 
 awaken only the greatest and noblest pas- 
 sions of the human mind ; and, by present- 
 ing such scenes and such events alone, as 
 could most powerfully promote this end, to 
 render the Theatre a school of sublime in- 
 struction, rather than an imitation of com- 
 mon life. To effect this purpose, he was 
 early led to see the necessity, or disposed 
 by the greatness of his own mind to the 
 observation, of an uniform character of dig- 
 nity ; to disregard whatever of common, of 
 trivial, or even of pathetic in the originals 
 from which he copied, might serve to inter- 
 rupt this peculiar flow of Emotion ; and in- 
 stead of giving a simple copy of Nature, to 
 adorn the events he represented, with all 
 that eloquence and poetry could afford. He 
 maintains, accordingly, in all his best plays, 
 amid much exaggeration, and much of the
 
 156' MATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 false eloquence of his time, a tone of com- 
 manding, and even of fascinating dignity* 
 which disposes us almost to believe, that we 
 are conversing with Beings of an higher order 
 than our own ; and which blinds us, at least 
 for a time, to all the faults and all the im- 
 perfections of his composition. I am far 
 from being disposed to defend his opinions 
 of Tragedy, and still less to excuse his ex- 
 travagance and bombast ; but I conceive j 
 that no person can feel his beauties, or do 
 justice to his merits, who does not regard 
 his tragedies in this view ; and I think that 
 some allowance ought to be made for the 
 faults of a Poet, who first shewed to his 
 country the example of regular Tragedy, 
 and whose works the great Prince of Conde 
 called " The Breviary of Kings*" 
 
 In the former Section, I have endeavour- 
 ed to show, that no objects are in themselves 
 fitted to produce the Emotions of Sublimi- 
 ty or Beauty, which are not productive of 
 some simple emotion. In this, I have at-
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 15? 
 
 tempted to show, that no Composition of 
 objects or qualities is in fact productive of 
 such emotions, in which an Unity of Cha- 
 racter is not preserved. The slight illustra- 
 tions which I have now offered, are proba- 
 bly sufficient to point out the truth of the 
 general principle ; but the application of it 
 to the different Arts of Taste, and the ex- 
 planation of the great rules of Composi- 
 tion from this constitution of our nature, 
 are objects far beyond the limits of these 
 Essays. I must satisfy myself, therefore, 
 with observing in general, that, in all the 
 Fine Arts, that Composition is most excel- 
 lent, in which the different parts most fully 
 unite in the production of one umningled 
 Emotion, and that Taste the most perfect, 
 where the perception of this relation of ob- 
 jects, in point of expression, is most delicate 
 and precise.
 
 158 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 I. 
 
 THE illustrations in the first Chapter of 
 this Essay are intended to show, that when- 
 ever the Emotions of Beauty or Sublimity 
 are felt, that exercise of Imagination is pro- 
 duced which consists in the prosecution of 
 a train of thought. 
 
 The illustrations in the second Chapter 
 are intended to point out the distinction be- 
 tween such trains, and our ordinary trains 
 of thought, and to show, that this difference 
 consists, Is/, In the ideas which compose 
 them being in all cases Ideas of Emotion ; 
 and, 2dly 9 In their possessing an uniform 
 principle of connection through the whole 
 of the train. The effect, therefore, which 
 is produced upon the mind, by objects of 
 Taste, may be considered as consisting in
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 159 
 
 the production of a regular or consistent 
 train of Ideas of Emotion. 
 
 II. 
 
 The account which I have now given of 
 this effect, may perhaps serve to point out 
 an important distinction between the Emo- 
 tions of Taste, and all our different Emotions 
 of Simple Pleasure. In the case of these last 
 emotions, no additional train of thought is 
 necessary. The pleasurable feeling follows 
 immediately the presence of the object or 
 quality, and has no dependence upon any 
 thing for its perfection, but the sound state 
 of the sense by which it is received. The 
 Emotions of Joy, Pity, Benevolence, Gra- 
 titude, Utility, Propriety, Novelty, &c. 
 might undoubtedly be felt, although we had 
 no such power of mind as that by which 
 we follow out a train of ideas, and certain- 
 ly are felt in a thousand cases, when this 
 faculty is unemployed. 
 
 In the case of the Emotions of Taste, on
 
 160 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 the other hand, it seems evident, that this 
 exercise of mind is necessary, and that 
 unless this train of thought is produced, 
 these emotions are unfelt. Whatever may 
 be the nature of that simple emotion which 
 any object is fitted to excite, whether that 
 of Gaiety, Tranquillity, Melancholy, c. 
 if it produce not a train of thought in our 
 minds, we arc conscious only of that simple 
 Emotion. Whenever, on the contrary, this 
 train of thought, or this exercise of imagi- 
 
 O O 
 
 nation is produced, we are conscious of an 
 emotion of a higher and more pleasing- 
 kind ; and which, though it is impossible 
 to describe in language, we yet distinguish 
 by the name of the Emotion of Taste. If 
 accordingly the Author of our nature had 
 denied us this faculty of imagination, it 
 should seem that these emotions could not 
 have been felt, and that all our emotions 
 would have been limited to those of simple 
 pleasure. 
 
 The Emotions of Taste may therefore be
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. l6l 
 
 considered as distinguished from the Emo- 
 
 o 
 
 tions of Simple Pleasure, by their being de- 
 pendent upon the exercise of our imagina- 
 tion ; and though founded in all cases upon 
 some simple Emotion, as yet further requir- 
 ing the employment of this faculty for their 
 existence. 
 
 III. 
 
 As in every operation of Taste there are 
 thus two different faculties employed, viz. 
 some affection or emotion raised, and the 
 imagination excited to a train of thought 
 corresponding to this emotion, the peculiar 
 pleasure which attends, and which consti- 
 tutes the Emotions of Taste, may naturally 
 be considered as composed of the pleasures 
 which separately attend the exercise of these 
 faculties, or, in other words, as produced by 
 the union of pleasing emotion, with the 
 pleasure which, by the constitution of our 
 nature, is annexed to the exercise of imagi- 
 nation. That both these pleasures are felt 
 
 VOL. i. L
 
 NATUIiE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 in every operation of Taste, seems to me 
 very agreeable to common experience and 
 observation. 
 
 1. That in every case of the Emotions of 
 Sublimity or Beauty, that simple Emotion 
 of Pleasure is felt, Avhich arises from the pe- 
 culiar nature of the object perceived, every 
 man, I conceive, may very easily satisfy 
 himself. In any beautiful object, whose 
 character is Cheerfulness, we are conscious 
 of a feeling of Cheerfulness, in objects of 
 Melancholy, of a feeling of Sadness, in 
 objects of Utility, of a feeling of Satisfac- 
 tion and Complacence., similar to what we 
 feel from objects of the same kind when the 
 Emotion of Beauty is not excited. In su- 
 blime objects, in the same manner, what- 
 ever their character may be, whether that 
 of Greatness, Terror, Power, c. we are 
 conscious of the feelings of Admiration, of 
 
 o 
 
 Awe, of Humility, c. and of the same 
 pleasures from the exercise of them, which 
 we feel in those cases where the Emotion
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 163 
 
 of Sublimity is not produced. In the trains 
 of thought which are excited by objects 
 either of Sublimity or Beauty, every man 
 knows, that the character of those trains is 
 determined by the peculiar nature of the 
 object ; and instead of the Emotions of 
 Taste being attended with one unifonn spe- 
 cies of pleasure, every man must have felt, 
 that the sum of his pleasure is in a great 
 degree composed of the peculiar pleasure 
 which the exercise of different affections 
 brings. 
 
 2. That there is a pleasure also annexed, 
 by the constitution of our nature, to the ex- 
 ercise of imagination, is a proposition which 
 seems to require very little illustration. In 
 common opinion, the employment of imagi- 
 nation is always supposed to communicate 
 delight ; when we yield to its power, we 
 are considered as indulging in a secret 
 
 o o 
 
 pleasure ; and every superiority in the 
 strength or sensibility of this faculty is 
 believed to be attended with a similar
 
 164 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 increase in the happiness of human life. 
 Nor is this persuasion of the connection 
 of pleasure with the exercise of imagina- 
 tion, confined to those cases where the 
 mind is employed in contemplating only 
 images of joy : for even in those men whose 
 constitution disposes them to gloomy or 
 melancholy thought, we have still a belief 
 that there is some secret and fascinating 
 charm in the disposition which they indulge, 
 and that, in this operation of mind itself, 
 they find a pleasure which more than com- 
 pensates for all the pain which the charac- 
 ter of their thoughts may bring. There is a 
 state of mind, also, which every man must 
 have felt, when, without any particular ob- 
 ject of meditation, the imagination seems to 
 retire from the realities of life, and to Avan- 
 der amid a creation of its own ; when the 
 most varied and discordant scenes rise as 
 by enchantment before the mind ; and 
 when all the other faculties of our nature 
 seem gradually to be obscured, to give to
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 165 
 
 this creation of Fancy a more radiant glow. 
 "With what delight such employments of 
 imagination are attended, the young and 
 the romantic cajx tell, to whom they are of- 
 ten more dear than all the real enjoyments 
 of life ; and who, from the noise and tumult 
 of vulgar joy, often hasten to retire to soli- 
 tude and silence, where they may yield 
 with security to these illusions of Imagina- 
 tion, and indulge again their visionary bliss. 
 
 On a subject of this kind, however, when 
 illustration is perhaps less important than 
 description, I am happy to be able to tran- 
 scribe a passage, which will render unneces- 
 sary every illustration that I can give. It; 
 is a passage from a posthumous work of 
 M. Rousseau, in which he describes his 
 mode of life, during a summer which he 
 passed in the island of St Pierre, in the 
 middle of the little lake of Bienne. 
 
 " Quand le beau terns m'invitoit, j'allois 
 ' me jetter seul dans un bateau que je cou- 
 " duisois au milieu du lac, quancl 1'eau
 
 166 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 " etoit calme, et la, m'etendant tout de mon 
 " long dans le bateau, les yeux tournes vers 
 " le ciel, je me laissois aller et deliver len- 
 " tement an gre de Feau, quelquefois pen- 
 " dant plusieurs heures, plonge dans mille 
 " reveries confuses, mais delicieuses, et qui 
 " sans avoir aucun objet bien determine ni 
 " constant, ne laissoient pas d'etre a mon 
 " gre cent fois preferables a tout ce que 
 " j'avois trouve de plus doux dans ce qu'on 
 
 " appelle les plaisirs de la vie. 
 
 " - Quand le soir approchoit, je des- 
 -' cendois des cimes de 1'isle, et j'allois vo- 
 " lontiers m'asseoir an bord du lac, sur la 
 <fc greve dans quelque asyle cache ; la le 
 " bruit des vagues, et Fagitation de 1'eau 
 " fixant mes sens, et chassant de mon ame 
 " toute autre agitation, la plongeoient dans 
 " une reverie clelicieuse, ou la nuit me sur- 
 * prenoit souvent sans que je m'en fusse ap- 
 " percu. Le flux et reflux de cette eau, 
 " son bruit continu, mais renfle par inter- 
 
 *' valles, frappant sans relache mon oreille 
 
 10
 
 Of SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 16? 
 
 " e^ mes ycux, suppleoient aux mouvemens 
 " internes que la reverie eteignoit en moi, 
 " et suffisoient pour me faire sentir avec 
 " plaisir mon existence, sans prendre la 
 " peine de penser. 
 
 " - Tel est Fetal ou je me suis trouvc 
 
 " souvenl a Fisle de St Pierre dans mes re- 
 " veries solitaires, soit couche dans mon 
 " bateau que je laissois deliver an gre de 
 " Fcau, soit assis sur les rives du lac agile, 
 " soil ailleurs au bord d\me belle riviere, 
 " ou d'un ruisseau murmurant sur le gra- 
 " vier. Telle est la maniere dont j'ai pas- 
 " se mon terns, durant le sejour que j'y ai 
 " fait. Qu'on me dise a present ce qu'il y 
 " a la d'assez attrayant pour exciter dans 
 " mon coeur des regrets si vifs, si tendres, 
 " et si durables, qu'au bout de ({uinze ans il 
 " m'est impossible de songer a cctte habita- 
 w lion cherie, sans m'y sentir a chaque fois 
 " transporter encore par les elans du de- 
 
 J'ai pense quelquefois assez pro-
 
 168 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS 
 
 " fondement, mais rareinent avec plaisir, 
 " presque toujours centre mon gre, et coni- 
 " me par force ; la reverie me delasse et 
 " m'amuse, la reflexion me fatigue et m'at- 
 u Irisle. Quelquefois mes reveries finissent 
 " par meditation, mais plus souvcnt mes me- 
 " dilations finissent par la reverie; et clurant 
 " ces egaremens mon ame erre ct plane 
 " dans Funivers sur les ailes de rimagina- 
 " tion, dans des extases qui passent toute 
 " autre jouissance. 
 
 " Taut que je goutai celle-la dans tonic 
 " sa purete, toute autre occupation me fut 
 " toujours insipide. Mais qnand une fois, 
 " jette dans la carriere litteraire, par des im- 
 " pulsions etrangers, je sends la fatigue dn 
 " travail d'esprit, et rimportunite d'une 
 44 celebrite malheureuse, jc sentis en meme 
 4i terns languir et s'attiedir mes donees re- 
 ; v cries, et bientot force de m'occuper 
 4- malgre moi de ma triste situation, je ne 
 " ; pus plus retrouver, quc bicn raremenl, ces 
 " cheres extases, qui durant cinquante ans
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 169 
 
 " m'avoient tcnu lieu de fortune ct de 
 " gloire ; et sans aulre depense que celle du 
 " terns, rn'avoient rendu dans Foisievete le 
 " plus heureux des mortals/ 1 Les RSveries, 
 Promenade 5. ct 7. 
 
 If it is allowed, then, that there is a plea- 
 sure annexed, by the constitution of our 
 nature, to the Exercise of Imagination ; and 
 if the illustrations in the first chapter are 
 just, which are intended to show, that when 
 this exercise of mind is not produced, the 
 Emotions of Taste are unfelt, and that 
 when it is increased, these Emotions arc in- 
 creased with it, we seem to possess suf- 
 ficient, evidence to conclude, that this Plea- 
 sure exists, and forms a part of that pecu- 
 liar pleasure which we receive from objects 
 of Sublimity and Beauty. 
 
 The pleasure, therefore, which accom- 
 panies the Emotions of Taste, may be con- 
 sidered not as a simple, but as a complex 
 pleasure ; and as arising not from any se- 
 parate and peculiar Sense, but from the
 
 }]() NATURL OP THE EMOTION5 
 
 union of the pleasure of SIMPLE EMOTION, 
 with that which is annexed, by the consti- 
 tution of the human mind, to the Exercise 
 of IMAGINATION. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The distinction which thus appears to 
 subsist between the Emotions of Simple 
 Pleasure, and that complex pleasure which 
 accompanies the Emotions of Taste, seems 
 to require a similar distinction in philoso- 
 phical language. I believe, indeed, that 
 the distinction is actually to be found in 
 the common language of conversation ; and 
 I apprehend that the term DELIGHT is very 
 generally used to express the peculiar plea- 
 sure which attends the Emotions of Taste, 
 in contradistinction to the general term 
 Pleasur-e, which is appropriated to Simple 
 Emotion. We are pleased, we say, with 
 the gratification of any appetite or affec- 
 tion, with food when hungiy, and with 
 rest when tired, with the gratification of
 
 OF SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY. 171 
 
 Curiosity, of Benevolence, or of Resent- 
 ment. But we say, we are delighted with 
 the prospect of a beautiful landscape, with 
 the sight of a fine statue, with hearing a pa- 
 thetic piece of music, with the perusal of a 
 celebrated poem. In these cases, the term 
 Delight is used to denote that pleasure 
 which arises from Sublimity and Beauty, 
 and to distinguish it from those simpler 
 pleasures which arise from objects that are 
 only agreeable. I acknowledge, indeed, 
 that this distinction is not very accurately 
 adhered to in common language, because, 
 
 O ~ ' ' 
 
 in most cases, either of the terms equally 
 expresses our meaning; but I apprehend, 
 that the observation of it is sufficiently ge- 
 neral, to shew some consciousness in man- 
 kind of a difference between these plea- 
 sures, and to justify such a distinction in 
 philosophical language as may express it. 
 
 If it were permitted me therefore, I should 
 wish to appropriate the term Delight, to 
 signify the peculiar pleasure which attends
 
 172 NATURE OF THE EMOTIONS, &C. 
 
 the Emotions of TASTE, or which is felt, 
 WHEN THE IMAGINATION is EMPLOYED 
 IN THE PROSECUTION OF A REGULAR 
 TRAIN OF IDEAS OF EMOTION.
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 OF TI1K 
 
 MATERIAL WORLD.
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 OF THE SUBLIMITY Al^D BEAUTY OF TU.E- 
 MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 IF the illustrations in the preceding Essay 
 ure just, if that exercise of mind which takes 
 place when the Emotions of Beauty or Su- 
 blimity are felt consists in the prosecution of a 
 regular train of Ideas of Emotion, and if no 
 other objects are in fact productive of the 
 Emotions of Taste, but such as are fitted to 
 produce some simple Emotion, there arises 
 a question of some difficulty, and of very 
 considerable importance. iiz.. What is the
 
 176' SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 source of the SUBLIMITY and BEAUTY of 
 the MATERIAL WORLD? 
 
 It cannot be doubted, that many objects 
 of the Material World are productive of the 
 Emotions of Sublimity and Beauty : some 
 of the fine arts are altogether employed 
 about material objects ; and far the greater 
 part of the instances of Beauty or Sublimi- 
 ty which occur in every man's experience, 
 are found in matter, or in some of its qua- 
 lities. 
 
 On the other hand, I think it must be al- 
 / lowed, that Matter in itself is unfitted to 
 produce any kind of emotion. The various 
 qualities of matter are known to us only by 
 means of our external senses ; but all that 
 isuch powers of our nature convey, is Sen- 
 sation and Perception ; and whoever will 
 take the trouble of attending: to the effect 
 
 o 
 
 which such qualities, when simple and un- 
 associated, produce upon his mind, will be 
 satisfied, that in no case do they produce 
 Emotion, or tiie exercise of any of his
 
 OT -THE MATERIAL WORLD. 17? 
 
 affections. The common language of man* 
 kind upon this subject, perfectly coincides 
 with: this observation- Such qualities, when 
 simple,, are always spoken -of as producing 
 sensation, but in- no case as producing emo- 
 tion;.' and although perhaps the general word 
 Feeling (as. applied both to our external 
 aiid internal senses) may sometimes be used 
 ambiguously, yet if we attend to it, we 
 shall tiiad, that, with regard to material qua- 
 lities, it is uniformly used to express Sensa- 
 tion, and that if we substitute Emotion for 
 it, every man will perceive the mistake. 
 The smell of a rose, the colour of scarlet, 
 the taste of a pine-apple, when spoken of 
 merely as qualities, and abstracted from the 
 objects in which they are found, are said to 
 produce agreeable Sensations, but not agree- 
 able Emotions. In the same manner, the 
 smell of assafoetida, or the taste of aloes, 
 when spoken of as abstract qualities, are 
 uniformly said to produce unpleasing Sen- 
 sations, but not unpleasing ]Jmotions. If 
 VOL. T. M
 
 178 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 we could conceive ourselves possessed only 
 of those powers which we have by means 
 of our external senses, I apprehend there 
 can be no doubt, that, in such a case, the 
 qualities of matter would produce only sen- 
 sation and perception ; that such sensations 
 might be either pleasing or painful, but that 
 in no case could they be attended with any 
 emotion. 
 
 But although the qualities of matter are 
 in themselves incapable of producing emo- 
 tion, or the exercise of any affection, yet it 
 is obvious that they may produce this effect, 
 from their association with other qualities; 
 and as being either the signs or expressions 
 of such qualities as are fitted by the con- 
 stitution of our nature to produce Emotion. 
 Thus, in the human bod}', particular forms 
 or colours are the signs of particular pas- 
 sions or affections. In works of art, parti- 
 cular forms are the signs of Dexterity, of 
 Taste, of Convenience, of Utility. In the 
 works of nature, particular sounds and
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 179 
 
 colours, &c. are the signs of Peace, or 
 Danger, or Plenty, or Desolation, Sec. 
 In such cases, the constant connection 
 we discover between the sign and the 
 thing signified, between the material qua- 
 lity and the quality productive of Emo- 
 tion, renders at last the one expressive to us 
 of the other, and very often disposes us to 
 attribute to the sign, that effect which is 
 produced only by the quality signified. 
 
 That such associations are formed with 
 material qualities, every man has sufficient 
 evidence in his own experience ; and there 
 are many causes which may be assigned, 
 both of the extent and of the universality of 
 such associations. I shall remark a few of 
 these, without pretending to an accurate 
 enumeration. 
 
 1. All those external objects, which, from 
 their nature or constitution, are productive 
 to us, either of use, of convenience, or of plea- 
 sure, or which in any other way are fitted to
 
 180 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 produce Emotion, are known and distin- 
 guished by their qualities of form and co- 
 lour. Such qualities, therefore, are natu- 
 rally, and even necessarily expressive to us 
 of those uses, or conveniencies, or pleasures. 
 It is by them that we become acquainted 
 with the subjects from which such utilities 
 arise ; it is by them that we learn to distin- 
 guish such subjects from one another ; and 
 as they are the permanent signs of these 
 several utilities, they affect us with the same 
 
 * */ 
 
 emotion which the utilities signified by them 
 are fitted to produce. The material quali- 
 ties, for instance, which distinguish a ship,' 
 a plough, a printing-press, or a musical in- 
 strument, do not solely afford us the percep- 
 tion of certain colours or forms, but along 
 with this perception, bring with it the con- 
 ception of the different uses or pleasures 
 which such compositions of material quali- 
 ties produce, and excite in us the same Emo- 
 tion with the uses or pleasures thus signi-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 181 
 
 fied. As, in this manner, the utilities or 
 pleasures of all external objects arc expres- 
 sed to us by their material signs of Colour 
 and of Form, such signs are naturally pro- 
 ductive of the Emotions which properly 
 arise from the qualities signified, 
 
 2. The qualities of Design, of Wisdom, of 
 Skill, are uniformly expressed to us by cer- 
 tain qualities of Form, and certain composi- 
 tions of Forms, Colours and Sounds. Such 
 qualities, therefore, or compositions of qua- 
 lities, become the signs of Design, or Wis- 
 dom, or Skill, and, like all other signs, affect 
 us with the same Emotion we receive from 
 the qualities signified. 
 
 3. All our knowledge of the minds of other 
 men, and of their various qualities, is gained 
 by means of material signs . Power, S trength , 
 Wisdom, Fortitude, Justice, Benevolence, 
 Magnanimity, Gentleness, Tenderness, Love, 
 &c. are all known to us by means of the ex- 
 ternal signs of them in the Countenance, 
 Gesture, or Voice. Such material sisrus arc
 
 182 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 therefore very early associated in our minds 
 with the qualities they signify ; and as they 
 are constant and invariable, become soon 
 productive to us of the same Emotions with 
 the qualities themselves. 
 
 In the same manner, the Characters, the 
 Dispositions, the Instincts of all the various 
 tribes of animals, arc known to us by cer- 
 tain signs in their frame, or voice, or gesture. 
 Such signs become therefore expressive to 
 us of these Characters, or Instincts, or Dis- 
 positions, and affect us with all the Emotions 
 which such qualities are fitted to produce. 
 
 4. Besides these immediate expressions 
 of qualities of Mind by material signs, there 
 are others which arise from Resemblance, 
 in which the qualities of Matter become sig- 
 nificant to us of some affecting or interest- 
 ing quality of Mind. We learn from ex- 
 perience, that certain qualities of Mind are 
 signified by certain qualities of Body. When 
 we find similar qualities of body in inani- 
 mate Matter, we are apt to attribute to them
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 183 
 
 the same expression, and to conceive them 
 as signifying the same qualities in this case, 
 as in those cases where they derive their ex- 
 pression immediately from Mind. Thus, 
 Strength and Delicacy, Boldness and Modes- 
 ty, Old Age and Youth, &c. are all expres- 
 ed by particular material signs in the human 
 ibrm, and in many cases by similar signs in 
 the forms of animals. When we find simi- 
 lar appearances in the forms of inanimate 
 Matter, we are disposed to consider them 
 as expressive of the same qualities, and to 
 regard them with similar Emotions. The 
 universality of such associations is evident 
 from the structure of the rudest languages. 
 The Strength of the Oak, the delicacy of 
 the Myrtle, the boldness of a Rock, the 
 modesty of the Violet, &c. are expressions 
 common in all languages, and so common, 
 that they are scarcely in any considered 
 as figurative; yet every man knows, that 
 Strength and Weakness,Boldness and Modes- 
 ty, are qualities, not of Matter, but of Mind,
 
 184 JSUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 and that without our knowledge of Mind, 
 it is impossible that we should ever have 
 had any conception of them. How much 
 the effect of descriptions of natural scenery 
 arises from that personification, which is 
 founded upon such associations, I believe 
 there is no man of common taste who must 
 not often have been sensible, 
 
 5. We are led by the constitution of our 
 nature, also, to perceive resemblances be- 
 tween our Sensations and Emotions, and of 
 consequence between the objects that pro- 
 duce them. Thus, there is some analogy 
 between the Sensation of gradual Ascent, 
 and the Emotion of Ambition, between 
 \hc Sensation of gradual Descent, and the 
 Emotion of Decay, between the lively 
 Sensation of Sunshine, and the cheerful 
 Emotion of Joy, between the painful Sen- 
 sation of Darkness, and the dispiriting Emo- 
 tion of Sorrow. In the same manner, there 
 are analogies between Silence and Tranquil- 
 lity, between the lustre of Morning, and
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 185 
 
 the gaiety of Hope, between softness of 
 Colouring, and gentleness of Character, 
 between slenderness of Form, and delicacy 
 of Mind, c. The objects, therefore, which 
 produce such Sensations, though in them- 
 selves not the immediate signs of such inter- 
 esting or affecting qualities, yet in con- 
 sequence of this Resemblance, become gra- 
 dually expressive of them, and if not always, 
 yet at those times at least, when we are un- 
 der the dominion of any Emotion, serve to 
 bring to our minds the images of all those 
 affecting or interesting qualities, which we 
 have been accustomed to suppose they re- 
 semble. How extensive this source of As- 
 sociation is, may easily be observed, in the 
 extent of such kinds of figurative expression 
 in every language. 
 
 6. Besides these, Language itself is ano- 
 ther very important cause of the extent of 
 such Associations. The analogies between 
 the qualities of Matter, and the qualities of 
 Mind, which any individual might discover
 
 186 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 or observe, might perhaps be few, and must 
 of course be limited by his situation and 
 circumstances; but the use of Language 
 gives, to every individual who employs it, 
 the possession of all the analogies which so 
 many ages have observed, between material 
 qualities, and qualities capable of produ- 
 cing Emotion. Of how much consequence 
 this is, may be discovered in the different 
 impressions which are made by the same 
 objects on the common people, whose voca- 
 bulary is limited by their wants, and on 
 those who have had the advantage of a libe- 
 ral education. 
 
 7- To all these sources of Association is 
 to be added, that which is peculiar to every 
 individual. There is no man, almost, who 
 has not, from accident, from the events of 
 his life, or from the nature of his studies, 
 connected agreeable or interesting Recollec- 
 tions with particular Colours, or Sounds, 
 or Forms, and to whom such sounds or co- 
 lours, c. are not pleasing from such an 
 12
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 187 
 
 Association. They affect us, in some mea- 
 sure, as the signs of these interesting quali- 
 ties, and, as in other cases, produce in us 
 the same Emotion with the qualities they 
 signify. 
 
 These observations are probably suffi- 
 cient to show the numerous and extensive 
 associations we have with Matter, and its 
 various qualities, as well as to illustrate 
 some of the means by which it becomes 
 significant or expressive to us of very differ- 
 ent, and far more interesting qualities than 
 those it possesses in itself. By means of 
 the Connection, or Resemblance, which 
 subsists between the qualities of Matter, 
 and qualities capable of producing Emo- 
 tion, the perception of the one immediately, 
 and very often irresistibly, suggests the idea 
 of the other ; and so early are these Asso- 
 ciations formed, that it requires afterwards 
 some pains to separate this connection, and 
 to prevent us from attributing to the Sign,
 
 188 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 that effect which is produced alone by the 
 Quality signified. 
 
 Whatever may be the truth of these ob- 
 servations, it cannot at least be doubted, 
 that the qualities of Matter are often asso- 
 ciated with others,, and that they affect us 
 in such cases, like all other sio;ns, by lead- 
 
 CT? v 
 
 ing our imaginations to the qualities they 
 signify. It seems to be equally obvious, 
 that in all cases where Matter, or any of its 
 qualities, produces the Emotions of Subli- 
 mity or Beauty, this effect must arise either 
 from these Material Qualities themselves, 
 from their being fitted by the constitution 
 of our nature to produce such Emotions : 
 or from some other qualities with which 
 they are associated, and of which they ope- 
 rate as the Signs or Expressions. 
 
 It should seem, therefore, that a very 
 simple, and a very obvious principle is suf- 
 ficient to inride our investigation into the 
 
 C7 ^j 
 
 source of the sublimity and beauty of the
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORED; 189 
 
 qualities of Matter^ If these qualities 'are' 
 in themselves fitted to produce the Emo- 1 
 lions of Sublimity or Beauty -(or, in other 
 words, are in themselves beautiful or -su- 
 blime), I think it is obvious that they miist 
 produce these Emotions, independently of 
 any association. If, on the contrary, it is 
 found that these qualities only produce such 
 Emotions when they are associated with in- 
 teresting or affecting qualities, and that 
 when such Associations are destroyed, they 
 no longer produce the same Emotions, I 
 think it must also be allowed, that their 
 Beauty or Sublimity is to be ascribed, not 
 to the material, but to the associated qua- 
 lities. 
 
 That this is in reality the case, I shall en- 
 deavour to show, by a great variety of illus- 
 trations. It is necessary, however, for me 
 to premise, that I am very far from consi- 
 dering the Inquiries which follow, as a com- 
 plete examination of the subject. They are 
 indeed only detached observations on \hf
 
 190 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Sublimity and Beauty of some of the most 
 important classes of material qualities, but 
 which, however imperfect they may seve- 
 rally be, yet seem to possess considerable 
 weight from their collective evidence.
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD* 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the Sublimity and Beauty of Sound. 
 
 THE Senses by which we chiefly discover 
 Beauty or Sublimity in material objects, are 
 those of HEARING and SEEING. 
 
 The objects of the first are, SOUNDS, 
 whether SIMPLE or COMPOSED. 
 
 The objects of the second are, COLOURS, 
 FORMS, and MOTION.
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of Simple Sounds. 
 
 I SHALL begin with considering some of 
 those instances, where Simple Sounds are 
 productive of the Emotions of Sublimity or 
 Beauty. Such sounds are capable of many 
 divisions. It may be sufficient, at present, 
 to consider them in the following order : 
 
 1. Sounds that occur in inanimate Na- 
 ture. 
 
 2. The Notes of Animals. And, 
 
 3. The Tones of the Human Voice. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Of Miscellaneous Sounds. 
 OF the first class, or of those Miscella- 
 neous Sounds that occur in inanimate Na-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 Hire, there are many which produce Emo- 
 tions of Sublimity and Beautv. 
 
 / ' 
 
 I. 
 
 1. All sounds in general are SUBLIME, 
 
 o 
 
 which are associated with Ideas of Danger ; 
 the howling of a Storm. the murmuring of 
 
 O O 
 
 an Earthquake, the Report of Artillery, 
 the Explosion of Thunder, c. 
 
 C 2. All sounds are in general Sublime, 
 which are associated with Ideas of great 
 Power or Might; the Noise of a Torrent, 
 the fall of a Cataract, the uproar of a 
 Tempest, the Explosion of Gunpowder, 
 the dashing of the Waves, c. 
 
 3. All sounds, in the same manner, are 
 Sublime, which are associated with Ideas 
 of Majesty or Solemnity, or deep Melan- 
 choly, or any other strong Emotion ; the 
 Sound of the Trumpet, and all other war- 
 like instruments, the Note of the Organ, 
 the Sound of the Curfew, the tolling of 
 
 ' C3 
 
 the passing Bell, &c. 
 VOL. i. -N
 
 194 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 That the Sublimity of such sounds arises 
 from the Ideas of Danger or Power, or Ma- 
 jesty, &c. which are associated with them, 
 and not from the Sounds themselves, or 
 from any original fitness in such sounds, to 
 produce this Emotion, seems to be obvious 
 from the following considerations : 
 
 o 
 
 1. Such sounds, instead of having any per- 
 manent or definite Character of Sublimity, 
 vary in their effect with the qualities they 
 happen to express, and assume different cha- 
 racters, according to the nature of these qua- 
 lities. 
 
 If sounds in themselves were Sublime, it 
 might reasonably be expected in this, as in 
 every other case of sense, that their differ- 
 ence of effect would be strictly proportion- 
 ed to their difference of character, and that 
 Sounds of the same kind or character would 
 invariably produce the same Emotion. The 
 following instances, however, seem to show, 
 that no specific character of Sublimity be- 
 longs to mere Sound, and that the same
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WOULD. 19,5 
 
 Sounds may produce very different kinds of 
 Emotion, according to the qualities with 
 which we associate them. 
 
 The Sound of Thunder is, perhaps of ail 
 others in Nature, the most Sublime. In 
 the generality of mankind, this Sublimity is 
 founded on Awe, and some degree of Ter- 
 ror ; yet how different is the Emotion 
 which it gives to the peasant who sees a I 
 last, after a long drought, the consent of 
 Heaven to his prayers for rain, to the phi- 
 losopher, who from the height of the Alps, 
 hears it roll beneath his feet, to the sol- 
 dier, who, under the impression of ancient 
 superstition, welcomes it, upon the moment 
 of engagement, as the omen of victory ! In 
 all these cases, the Sound itself is the same : 
 but how different the nature of the Subli- 
 mity it produces ! The report of artillery is 
 Sublime, from the images both of Power 
 and of Danger we associate with it. The 
 noise of an engagement heard from a dis- 
 tance is dreadfully Sublime. The firing of
 
 196 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 a Review is scarcely more than magnifi- 
 cent. The sound of a real skirmish between 
 a few hundred men, would be more su- 
 blime than all the noise of a feigned en- 
 
 O 
 
 gagement between a hundred thousand men. 
 The straggling fire of a company of soldiers 
 upon a field-day, is contemptible, and al- 
 ways excites laughter. The straggling fire 
 of the same number of men, in a riot, would 
 be extremely sublime, and perhaps more 
 terrible than an uniform report. 
 
 The howling of a Tempest is powerfully 
 Sublime from many associations ; yet how 
 different to the inhabitant of the land, and 
 the sailor, who is far from refuge, to the 
 inhabitant of the sheltered plain, and the 
 traveller bewildered in the mountains, to 
 the poor man who has nothing to lose, and 
 the wealthy, whose fortunes are at the mer- 
 cy of the storm ! In all these cases, the 
 Sound itself is the same, but the nature of 
 the Sublimity it produces is altogether dif- 
 ferent, and corresponds, not to the effect
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 197 
 
 upon the organ of Hearing, but to the cha- 
 racter or situations of the men by whom it is 
 heard, and the different qualities of which 
 it is expressive to them. 
 
 The Sound of a Cascade is almost always 
 Sublime ; yet no man ever felt in it the 
 same species of Sublimity, in a fruitful 
 Plain, and in a wild and romantic Coun- 
 try, in the Pride of Summer, and in the 
 Desolation of Winter, in the hours of 
 Gaiety, or Tranquillity, or Elevation, and 
 in seasons of Melancholy, or Anxiety, or 
 Despair. The Sound of a Trumpet is often 
 Sublime ; but how different the Sublimity 
 in the day of Battle, in the March of an 
 Army in Peace, or amid the splendours of 
 a Procession. 'lliere are few simple sounds 
 more sublime than the report of a Cannon ; 
 yet every one must have felt the different 
 Emotions of Sublimity with which the same 
 sound affects him, and at the same intervals, 
 in moments of public Sorrow, or public Re- 
 joicing.
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 In these, and many other instances that 
 might be mentioned, the nature of the 
 Emotion we experience, corresponds, not 
 to the nature of the Sound itself, but to the 
 nature of the Association we connect with 
 it ; and is in fact altogether the same with 
 the Emotion which the same quality pro- 
 duces, when unaccompanied with Sound. 
 If Sounds in themselves were fitted by the 
 constitution of our nature to produce these 
 Emotions, it would seem that greater uni- 
 formity would be found in their effects ; 
 that the difference of their effects would be 
 proportioned to the difference of their nature 
 as Sounds ; and that the same Sounds would 
 permanently produce the same Emotion. 
 
 2. If any particular sounds are fitted by 
 our constitution to produce the Emotion of 
 Sublimity, it seems impossible that sound* 
 of a contrary kind should produce the same 
 Emotion, if, on the contrary, the Subli- 
 
 * +/ * 
 
 mity of Sounds arises from the qualities we 
 associate with them, it may reasonably be
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 199 
 
 expected, that sounds of all kinds will pro- 
 duce this Emotion, when they are expres- 
 sive of such qualities as are in themselves 
 Sublime. Many very familiar observations 
 seem to illustrate this point. 
 
 The most general character, perhaps, of 
 Sublimity in Sounds, is that of Loudness, 
 and there are doubtless many instances 
 where such sounds are very constantly su- 
 blime ; yet there are many instances also, 
 where the contrary quality of sounds is also 
 sublime ; and when this happens, it will 
 universally be found, that such sounds are 
 associated with Ideas of Power or Danger, 
 or some other quality capable of exciting 
 strong Emotion. The loud and tumultu- 
 ous sound of a Storm is undoubtedly Su- 
 blime ; but there is a low and feeble Sound 
 which frequently precedes it, more sublime 
 in reality than all the uproar of the storm 
 itself, and which has accordingly been fre- 
 quently made use of by Poets, in heighten- 
 ing their descriptions of such scenes.
 
 '200 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Along the woods, along the moorish fens 
 
 Sighs the sad Genius of the coming storm, 
 
 And up among the loose disjointed cliffs 
 
 And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawling brook 
 
 And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, 
 
 Resounding long in Fancy's listening ear. 
 
 Then comes the Father of the Tempest forth, &c. 
 
 Thomsons Winter. 
 
 44 Did you never observe (says Mr Gray in 
 44 a letter to a friend) while rocking winds 
 " are piping loud, that pause, as the gust is 
 44 recollecting itself, and rising upon the 
 44 ear in a shrill and plaintive note, like the 
 44 swell of an ^Eolian harp. I do assure 
 44 you there is nothing in the world so like 
 44 the voice of a spirit/' Such a sound in 
 itself is inconsiderable, and resembles many 
 others which are very far from being su- 
 blime ; but as the forerunner of the storm, 
 and the sign of all the imagery we connect 
 with it, it is sublime in a very great degree. 
 There is in the same manner said to be a 
 low rumbling noise preceding an earth- 
 quake, in i I self very inconsiderable, and ge-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 201 
 
 iierally likened to some very contemptible 
 sounds ; yet in such a situation, and with 
 all the images of danger and horror to 
 which it leads, I question whether there is 
 another sound so dreadfully Sublime. The 
 soft and placid tone of the human voice is 
 surely not sublime ; yet in the following 
 passage, which of the great images that pre- 
 cede it is so powerfully so ? It is a passage 
 from the first book of Kings, in which the 
 Deity is described as appearing to the 
 Prophet Elijah. " And he said, Go forth, 
 " and stand upon the mount before the. 
 " Lord. And behold, the Lord passed by, 
 " and a great and strong wind rent the 
 " mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks 
 " before the Lord ; but the Lord was not. 
 " in the wind : and after the wind an earth- 
 " quake ; but the Lord was not in the 
 << earthquake : and after the earthquake a 
 "fire; but the Lord was not in the lire: 
 ' ; and after the fire a still small voice* And
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 " it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he 
 " wrapped his face in his mantle."- 
 
 Another great division of Sounds is into 
 Grave and Acute. If either of these classes 
 of sound is sublime in itself, it should fol- 
 low, according to the general laws of Sen- 
 sation, that the other should not be so. In 
 fact, however, the Sublime is found in both, 
 and perhaps it may be difficult to say to 
 which of them it most permanently belongs. 
 Instances of this kind are within the reach 
 of every person's observation. 
 
 In the same manner, it may be observed, 
 that the most common, and, in general, the 
 most insignificant Sounds become Sublime, 
 whenever they are associated with images 
 belonging to Power, or Danger, or Melan- 
 choly, or any other strong Emotion, al- 
 though in other cases they affect us with no 
 Emotion whatever. There is scarcely in 
 nature a more trifling; Sound than the buzz 
 
 O 
 
 of Flies, yet I believe there is no man of 
 common Taste, who, in the deep silence of
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 203 
 
 a summer's noon, has not found something 
 strikingly sublime in this inconsiderable 
 sound. The falling of a drop of water, pro- 
 duces in general a very insignificant and 
 unexpressive sound ; yet sometimes in vaults, 
 and in large Cathedrals, a single drop is 
 heard to fall at intervals, from the roof, than 
 which, I know not if there is a single sound 
 more strikingly Sublime. One can scarcely 
 mention a sound less productive of the Su- 
 blime, than the sound of a Hammer. How 
 powerfully, however, in the following de- 
 scription, has Shakespeare made this vulgar 
 Sound Sublime! 
 
 From camp to camp,, thro' the foul womb of night. 
 The hum of either army stilly sounds, 
 That the fix'd sentinels almost receive 
 The secret whispers of each other's watch. 
 Fire answers fire, and thro' their paly flames 
 Each battle sees the other's umber'd face ; 
 Steed answers steed in high and boastful neighs 
 Piercing the earth's dull ear, and from the tents 
 The armourers accomplishing the knights
 
 204 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 With busy hammers, closing rivets up, 
 Give dreadful note of preparation. 
 
 Henry V. act. iii. Chorus, 
 
 The sound of oars in water is surely very far 
 from being Sublime, yet in a Tragedy of 
 Thomson's, this sound is made strikingly Su- 
 blime, when (in the person of a man who had 
 been left by the treachery of his companions 
 upon a desert island), he describes the hor- 
 rors he felt, when he first found his being 
 deserted : And adds, 
 
 I never heard 
 A sound so dismal as their parting oars.' 
 
 instances of the same kind are so nume- 
 rous, that it is unnecessary to insist upon 
 them. If Sounds are Sublime in them- 
 selves, independently of all Association, it 
 seems difficult to account for contrary 
 sounds producing the same effect, and for 
 the same sounds producing different effects,
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 205 
 
 according to the Associations with which 
 they are connected. 
 
 3. When such Associations are dissolved, 
 the sounds themselves cease to be Sublime. 
 There are many cases, undoubtedly, in 
 which this experiment cannot be made, be- 
 cause in many cases the connection be- 
 tween such Sounds, and the Qualities they 
 indicate, is constant and invariable. The 
 connection between the sound of Thunder, 
 of a Whirlwind, of a Torrent, of an Earth- 
 quake, and the qualities of Power, or Dan- 
 ger, or Awfulness, which they signify, and 
 which the objects themselves permanently 
 involve, is established not by Man, but by 
 Nature. It has no dependence upon his 
 Will, and cannot be affected by any discip- 
 line of his Imagination. It is no wonder, 
 therefore, while such connections are so 
 permanent, that the Sublimity which be- 
 longs to the qualities of the objects them- 
 selves, should be attributed to their exter- 
 nal signs, and that such signs should be
 
 206' SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 considered in themselves as fitted to pro- 
 duce this Emotion. The only case in which 
 these associations are positively dissolved. 
 is when, by some error of judgment, we ei- 
 ther mistake some different sound for the 
 Sound of any of these objects, or are im- 
 posed upon by some imitation of these 
 Sounds. In such cases, I think it will not 
 be denied, that when we discover our mis- 
 take, the Sounds are no longer Sublime. 
 There is no thins; more common than for 
 
 o 
 
 people who are afraid of Thunder, to mis- 
 take some very common/ and indifferent 
 sound for il ; as the rumbling of a Cart, or 
 the rattling of a Carriage. While their mis- 
 take continues, they feel the Sound as su- 
 blime : the moment they are undeceived, they 
 are the first to laugh at their error, and to 
 ridicule the Sound which occasioned it. 
 Children at first are as much alarmed at the 
 Thunder of the Stage, as at real Thunder. 
 Whenever they find that it is only a decep- 
 tion, they amuse themselves with mimick- 
 
 10
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 207 
 
 ing it. It may be observed also, that very 
 young children show no symptoms of Fear 
 or Admiration at Thunder, unless perhaps 
 when it is painfully loud, or when they see 
 other people alarmed about them ; obvious- 
 ly from their not having yet associated with 
 it the Idea of Danger : and perhaps also 
 from this cause, that our imagination assists 
 the report, and makes it appear much loud- 
 er than it realty is ; a circumstance which 
 seems to be confirmed bv the common mis- 
 
 *s 
 
 take we make of very inconsiderable noises 
 for it. Mistakes in the same manner are 
 often made in those countries where earth- 
 quakes are common, between very inconsi- 
 derable sounds, and that low rumbling 
 sound which is said to precede such an 
 event. There cannot be a doubt, that the 
 moment the mistake is discovered, the noise 
 ceases to be sublime. In all other cases of 
 the same kind, where mistakes of this na- 
 ture happen, or where we are deceived by 
 imitation, I believe it is agreeable to every
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUT1" 
 
 person's experience, that while the mistake 
 continues, the sounds affect us as sublime ; 
 but that as soon as we are undeceived, and 
 that the sign is found not to be accompa- 
 nied with the qualities usually signified, it 
 ceases immediately to affect us with any 
 Emotion. If any sounds were in them- 
 selves Sublime, or fitted by the constitution 
 of our nature to produce this Emotion, in- 
 dependently of all Association, it would 
 seem that there could be no change of our 
 Emotion, and thai these Sounds would as 
 permanently produce their correspondent 
 Emotion, as the objects of every other Sense 
 produce their correspondent ideas. 
 
 In all cases, however, where these asso- 
 ciations are either accidental or temporary, 
 and not, as in the former case, permanent 
 in their nature, it will be found, that sounds 
 are sublime only, when they are expressive 
 of qualities capable of producing some 
 powerful Emotion, and that, in all other 
 cases, the same sounds are simply indiffc-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 rent. In some of the instances formerly 
 mentioned, where common or vulgar sounds 
 are rendered sublime by association, it i* 
 obvious that the same sounds in general, 
 when they have no such expression to us, 
 are very different from Sublimity, The 
 buzz of flies, the dropping of water, the 
 
 sound of a hammer, the da shins; of an oar, 
 
 7 ~ 
 
 and many others which might easily be 
 mentioned, are in general Sounds absolute- 
 ly indifferent, and so far from possessing 
 any Sublimity in themselves, that it might 
 be difficult at first to persuade any man 
 that they could be made so, Their Subli- 
 mity therefore can only be attributed to the 
 qualities which they signify. 
 
 There are few sounds, in the same man- 
 ner, much more sublime, than the striking 
 of a clock at midnight. In other situations 
 the very same sound is altogether different 
 in its expression. In the morning it is 
 cheerful, at noon indifferent, or at leas? 
 unnoticed. In the evening plain live, -.'.<? 
 
 VOL i. o
 
 1210 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 night only sublime. In the tolling of a bell, 
 the sound is uniformly the same ; yet such 
 a sound has very different expressions, from 
 the peculiar purposes to which it is applied. 
 The passing bell, and the funeral bell, alone 
 are sublime. The whistling of the wind in 
 an autumnal, or in a wintry night, is often 
 felt as sublime, and has accordingly been 
 frequently introduced into poetical descrip- 
 tions of a similar character. The nicest 
 ear, however, is unable to distinguish any 
 difference betwixt this sound, in the seasons 
 before mentioned, and in spring or summer, 
 when, if it has any character at all, it has a 
 character very different from Sublimity. 
 The Trumpet is very generally employed 
 in scenes of Magnificence or Solemnity. 
 The sound of the trumpet in such situations 
 is accordingly very sublime, and seems to 
 us to be expressive of that solemnity or 
 magnificence. This instrument, however, 
 as every one knows, is very often degraded 
 to very mean oiBces. In such cases, the
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 sound is altogether indifferent, if not con- 
 temptible. The Bagpipe has, to a Scotch 
 Highlander, no inconsiderable degree of 
 sublimity, from its being the martial instru- 
 ment of the country, and of consequence 
 associated with many spirited and many 
 magnificent images. To the rest of the 
 world, the sound of this instrument is at; 
 best but barely tolerable. They who are 
 acquainted with the history of superstition, 
 will recollect many instances where Sounds 
 have become sublime from this Association, 
 which to the rest of mankind were very in- 
 significant, and which have become also in- 
 significant both to Individuals and to Na- 
 tions, when the superstitions upon which 
 their expression was founded had ceased. 
 
 There are several other considerations, 
 from which the principle I here endeavour 
 
 to illustrate mm-ht be confirmed, the uni- 
 
 ~ 
 
 form connection between Sublime Sounds, 
 and some quality capable of producing 
 Emotion, and the impossibility of finding
 
 212 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 an instance where Sound is Sublime, inde- 
 pendently of all Association, the great dif- 
 ference in the number of sounds that are 
 sublime to the common people, and men 
 of cultivated or poetical imagination, and 
 the difference which every man feels in the 
 effect of such sounds in producing this 
 Emotion, according to the particular state 
 of his own mind, or according to the parti- 
 cular strength or weakness of his sensibility 
 to the qualities which such sounds express. 
 But I am unwilling to anticipate the reader 
 in speculations which he can so easily pro- 
 secute for himself. If the illustrations I 
 have already offered are just; if Sounds 
 of all kinds are sublime, when they are ex- 
 pressive of any qualities capable of produ- 
 cing strong; Emotions ; and if no Sounds 
 
 >;^ O 
 
 continue to be sublime, when they cease to 
 be expressive of such qualities, it is, I think, 
 reasonable to conclude, that the Sublimity 
 of such Sounds is to be ascribed, not to the
 
 OP THE MATERIAL WORLD. 213 
 
 mere quality of Sound, but to those asso- 
 ciated qualities of which it is significant. 
 
 II. 
 
 There is a great variety of sounds also, 
 that occur in the scenes of Nature, which 
 are productive of the Emotion of BEAUTY; 
 the sound of a Waterfall, the Murmuring of 
 a Rivulet, the whispering of the Wind, the 
 Sheepfold Bell, the sound of the Curfew, 
 &c. 
 
 That such sounds are associated in our 
 minds, with various qualities capable of 
 producing Emotion, I think every man ma}' 
 be satisfied from his own experience. 
 When such sounds occur, they are expres- 
 sive to us of some particular character: 
 they suit one species of Emotion, and not 
 others ; and if this were not obvious in it- 
 self, it might be made sufficiently obvious, 
 from the use of such sounds in poetical 
 Composition. Every man, there, judges of 
 the propriety of their introduction, and de-
 
 'J14 SUBLIMITY A3vD BEAUTY 
 
 termines with regard to the taste and judg- 
 ment of rthe Poet, by their suitableness to 
 the nature of the Emotion he has it in his 
 view to excite. Every man, therefore, has 
 some peculiar Emotion associated with such 
 sounds, or some quality, of which they arc 
 considered as the signs or expressions. 
 
 That the Beauty of such sounds arises 
 from the qualities of which they are expres- 
 sive, and not from any original fitness in 
 them to produce this Emotion, may per- 
 haps be evident from the following consi- 
 derations : 
 
 1. To those who have no such associa- 
 tions, or who consider them simply as 
 Sounds, they have no beauty. It is long 
 before children show any degree of sensibi- 
 lity to the beauty of such sounds. To the 
 greater number of them, in the same man- 
 ner, the common people are altogether in- 
 different. To the peasant, the Curfew is 
 only the mark of the hour of the evening, 
 the Sheep-bell, the sign of the neighbour-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 215 
 
 hood of the flock, the sound of a Cascade, 
 the sign of the falling of water, &c. Give 
 them the associations which men of culti- 
 vated imagination have with such sounds, 
 and they Avill infallibly feel their beauty. 
 
 In the same manner, men of the best na- 
 tural taste, who have not formed such asso- 
 ciations, are equally insensible to the Beau- 
 ty of such Sounds. The inhabitant of a 
 country where there are no waterfalls is 
 stunned at first with the noise of a cascade, 
 but is not delighted with it. They who are 
 not accustomed to the Curfew, and who 
 are ignorant of its being the evening bell, 
 and, as such, associated with all those 
 images of tranquillity and peace, which ren- 
 der that season of the day so charming, feel 
 nothing more from its sound, than from the 
 sound of a bell at any other hour of the 
 day. The sound of the Sheepfold bell is 
 but an insio-nificant noise to those who 
 
 o 
 
 have never lived in a pastoral country, and 
 who do not consider it as expressive of
 
 !2l6 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 those images of simple and romantie plea- 
 sure, which are so naturally connected with 
 such scenes. Every man acquainted with 
 the poetry of distant nations, knows, in the 
 same manner, how much the beauty of ma- 
 ny allusions to peculiar sounds of these 
 countries is lost to those who are strangers 
 to them, and who, of consequence, have 
 none of those associations which render 
 them so expressive to the natives. 
 
 2. It is further observable, that such 
 Sounds are beautiful only in particular 
 tempers of mind, or when we are under the 
 influence of such Emotions as accord with 
 the expressions which they possess. If, on 
 the contrary, such Sounds were beautiful in 
 themselves, although in different states of 
 mind, we might afford them different de- 
 grees of attention ; yet in all situations they 
 would be beautiful, in the same manner as 
 in every state of mind the objects of all 
 other senses uniformly produce their corre- 
 spondent ideas. The sound of the Curfew,
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 217 
 
 for instance, so beautiful in moments of me- 
 lancholy, or tranquillity, in a joyful or even 
 in a cheerful hour, would be directly the re- 
 verse. The sound of a Waterfall, so valued 
 amid the luxuriant scenery of summer, is 
 scarcely observed, or if observed, simply 
 disagreeable amid the rigours of winter. The 
 sound of the hunting Horn, so extremely 
 picturesque in seasons of gaiety, would be 
 insupportable in hours of melancholy. 
 
 It is at particular seasons only, in truth, 
 that we are sensible to the beauty of any 
 of the Sounds before mentioned. For once 
 that they affect us, they occur to us ten 
 times without effect. The real and the most 
 important business of life could not be car- 
 ried on, if we were to indulge at all times 
 our Sensibility either to Sublimity or Beau- 
 ty. It is only at those seasons, that such 
 sounds affect us with any Emotions of 
 Beauty, when we happen to be in that tem- 
 per of mind, w r hich suits with the qualities 
 of which they are expressive. In our coin-
 
 '218 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 mon hours, when we are either thoughtless 
 or busy, we suffer them to pass without no- 
 tice. If such sounds were beautiful in 
 themselves, such variations in their effects 
 could not possibly happen. 
 
 3, When such associations are dissolved, 
 the sounds themselves cease to be beautiful. 
 If a man of the most common taste were 
 carried into any striking scene of an orna- 
 mented garden, and placed within the hear- 
 ing of a Cascade, and were told, in the 
 midst of his enthusiasm, that what he takes 
 for a Cascade is only a Deception, the 
 sound continues the same, but the beauty 
 of it would be irrecoverably gone. The 
 tinkling of the Sheepfold bell may be imi- 
 tated by many very common sounds ; but 
 who is there who could for a moment listen 
 to anv imitation of this romantic Sound ? 
 
 fc/ 
 
 There are a great number of sounds which 
 exactly resemble the sound of the hunting 
 Horn, and which are frequently heard also 
 in the same scenes : when known, however,
 
 or THE MATERIAL WORLD. 21.0 
 
 some of them are ridiculous, none beautiful. 
 The same bell which is so strikingly beauti- 
 ful in the evening, is altogether unnoticed 
 at noon. " The flute of a Shepherd (says 
 " Dr Beattie, with his usual beauty of ex- 
 " pression) heard at a distance, in a fine 
 " summer's day, amidst a romantic scene of 
 " groves, hills, and waters, will give rap- 
 " ture to the ear of the wanderer ; though 
 " the tune, the instrument, and the musi- 
 " cian be such as he could not endure in 
 <; any other place." Instances of a similar 
 kind are so numerous, that I forbear to de- 
 tail them. Upon the supposition of any 
 original and independent beauty in Sounds, 
 such variations are altogether unaccount- 
 able. 
 
 I shall only farther observe upon this 
 subject, that when it is considered, how few 
 Sounds are beautiful amid the infinite num- 
 ber which occur in the scenes of Nature, 
 and that wherever they do occur, there is 
 always some pleasing or interesting quality
 
 220 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 of which they are expressive, there arises a 
 very strong presumption, independently of 
 all other considerations, that the Beauty of 
 such particular Sounds is derived from the 
 qualities which they express, and not the 
 effect of the mere sounds themselves. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Of the Notes of Animals. 
 THERE are instances, I believe, both of 
 Sublimity and Beauty in the Notes of Ani- 
 mals. That such Sounds are associated 
 with the qualities of the Animals to which 
 they belong, and become expressive of these 
 qualities, cannot, I think, be denied. There 
 are besides other associations we have with 
 them, from their Manner of Life, the Scenes 
 which they usually inhabit, and the Coun- 
 tries from which they come,
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 L 
 
 That the Notes or Cries of some animals 
 are SUBLIME, every one knows : the Roar of 
 the Lion, the Growling of Bears, the Howl- 
 ing of Wolves, the Scream of the Eagle, c. 
 In all those cases, these are the notes of ani- 
 mals remarkable for their strength, and for- 
 midable from their ferocity. It would seem 
 very natural, therefore, that the Sublimity 
 of such Sounds should arise from the qua- 
 lities of which they are expressive ; and 
 which are of a nature fitted to excite very 
 powerful Emotions in our minds. 
 
 That this is in reality the case, and that 
 it is not the Sounds themselves which have 
 this effect, appears to be obvious from the 
 two following considerations. 
 
 1. When we have no associations of this 
 kind, such Sounds are productive of no such 
 Emotion. There is not one of these Sounds 
 which may not be imitated in some man- 
 
 / 
 
 ncr or oilier; and which, while we are jo-no-
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 rant of the deception, does not produce the 
 same emotion with the real Sound : when 
 we are undeceived, however, we are con- 
 scious of no other Emotion, but that per- 
 haps of simple pain from its loudness. The 
 howl of the Wolf is little distinguished from 
 the howl of the Dog, either in its tone or in 
 its strength, but there is no comparison be- 
 tween their Sublimity. There are few, if 
 any of these Sounds so loud as the most 
 common of all Sounds, the lowing of a 
 Cow ; yet this is the very reverse of Subli- 
 mity. Imagine this Sound, on the contrary, 
 expressive of Fierceness or Strength, and 
 there can be no doubt that it would become 
 Sublime. The hooting of the Owl at mid- 
 night, or amid ruins, is strikingly Sublime. 
 The same Sound at noon, or during the day, 
 is very far from being so. The scream of 
 the Eagle is simply disagreeable, when the 
 bird is either tamed or confined ; it is Su- 
 blime only, when it is heard amid Rocks and 
 Deserts, and when it is expressive to us of
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 223 
 
 Liberty, and Independence, and savage 
 Majesty. The neighing of a War-horse in 
 the field of battle, or of a young and un- 
 tamed Horse when at large among moun- 
 tains, is powerfully Sublime. The same 
 sound in a Cart-horse, or a Horse in the 
 stable, is simply indifferent, if not disagree- 
 able. No Sound is more absolutely mean, 
 than the grunting of Swine. The same 
 Sound in the wild Boar, an animal remark- 
 able both for fierceness and strength, is 
 Sublime. The memory of the reader will 
 supply many other instances. 
 
 2. The Sublimity of such sounds cor- 
 responds not to their Nature, as sounds, 
 but to the Nature of the Qualities they 
 signify. Sounds of all kinds are Sublime, 
 in proportion as they are expressive of 
 Power or Fierceness, or Strength, or any 
 other quality capable of producing strong 
 Emotions in the animals which they dis- 
 tinguish. There are many instances un- 
 doubtedly where loud Cries are Sublime,
 
 224 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY 
 
 but there are many also, where such Notes 
 are very far from being so. The lowing of 
 Cows, the braying of the Ass, the scream of 
 the Peacock, and many other inoffensive 
 birds, are only mean or disagreeable. 
 
 Low or feeble Sounds, in the same man- 
 ner, are generally considered as the contrary 
 of Sublime ; yet there are also many in- 
 stances where such Sounds are strongly 
 Sublime, when they distinguish the notes of 
 fierce, or dangerous, or powerful animals. 
 There is not a Sound so generally con- 
 temptible as that which we distinguish by 
 the name of Hissing, yet this is the Sound 
 appropriated to Serpents, and the greater 
 part of poisonous reptiles ; and, as such, is 
 extremely Sublime. The noise of the Rattle- 
 snake (that most dangerous animal of all 
 his tribe) is very little different from the 
 noise of a child's play-thing, yet who will 
 deny its Sublimity ! The growl of the Tyger 
 resembles the purring of a Cat : the one is 
 Sublime, the other insignificant. Nothing
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 can be more trifling than the Sound pro- 
 duced by that little animal, which among 
 the common people is called the Death- 
 watch ; jet many a bold heart hath felt its 
 power. The inhabitants of modern Europe 
 would smile, if they were asked, if there 
 were any Sublimity in the Notes of Chick- 
 ens, or Swallows, or Magpies ; yet under 
 the influence of ancient superstition,, when 
 such animals were considered as ominous, 
 the bravest among the people have trem- 
 bled at their Sound. The superstitions 
 of other countries afford innumerable in- 
 stances of the same kind. 
 
 If these illustrations are just, it should 
 seem, that the Sublimity of the Notes of 
 Animals is to be ascribed to the Associa- 
 tions we connect with them, and not to any 
 original fitness in the mere Sounds them- 
 
 o 
 
 selves, to produce this Emotion, 
 
 II. 
 
 That the BEAUTY of the Notes ov Cris 
 VOL. i. :r
 
 226 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 of Animals arises from the same cause, or 
 from the qualities of which they are expres- 
 sive to us, may perhaps be obvious from 
 considerations equally familiar. 
 
 It seems at least very difficult to account 
 for the instances of such Sounds which are 
 universally reckoned beautiful, if we con- 
 sider the Sounds themselves as the causes 
 of this Emotion. The number of notes is 
 as various as the different species of animals, 
 and amid these there are a thousand in- 
 stances, where similar Sounds are by no 
 means productive of similar effects ; and 
 where, although the difference to the Ear 
 is extremely small, there is yet a great dif- 
 ference in their capacity of producing such 
 Emotions. If, on the contrary, we consider 
 the source of their beauty as consisting in 
 the pleasing or affecting qualities with which 
 such sounds are associated, we have an easy 
 solution of the difficulty, and which will be 
 found at the same time perfectly to agree 
 with the facts.
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 22? 
 
 It would lead to a very long, and very 
 unnecessary inquiry, if I were to attempt 
 to enumerate the various Notes of this kind 
 that are beautiful, and the different associa- 
 tions we have with them. That with many 
 such sounds we have in fact such associa- 
 tions, is a matter, I apprehend, so conform- 
 able to every man's experience, that it would 
 be superfluous to attempt to prove it. 
 
 There is indeed one class of animals, of 
 which the notes are in a singular degree ob- 
 jects of Beauty I mean Birds ; and for 
 this we may assign very sufficient reasons. 
 1st , Such notes approach much nearer than 
 any other, to the tones of the human voice, 
 and are therefore much more strongly ex- 
 pressive to us of such qualities as we are af- 
 fected by. %dly 9 These animals are, much 
 more than any other, the objects of our in- 
 terest and regard ; not only from our great- 
 er acquaintance with them, and from tin 
 minuteness and delicacy of their forms, 
 which renders them in some measure the
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 objects of Tenderness; but chiefly from 
 their modes of life, and from the little 
 domestic arrangements and attachments 
 which we observe among them so much 
 more strongly than among any other ani- 
 mals, and which indicate more affecting 
 and endearing qualities in the animals them- 
 selves, than in any others we know. That 
 we have such associations with Birds, is 
 very obvious, from the use which is made 
 of their instincts and manner of life, in the 
 poetical compositions of all nations. 
 
 That it is from such associations the beau- 
 ty of the notes of animals arises, may ap- 
 pear from the following considerations : 
 
 1. They who have no such associations, 
 feel no Emotion of Beauty from them. A 
 peasant would laugh, if he were asked, if the 
 call of a Goat, or the bleat of a Sheep, or 
 the lowing of a Cow were beautiful ; yet in 
 certain situations, all of these are undoubt- 
 edly so. A child shows no symptom of admi- 
 ration at those Sounds which are most af-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 229 
 
 fecting in natural scenery to other people. 
 Every one will recollect, in what total in- 
 difference his early years were passed, to 
 that multitude of beautiful Sounds which 
 occur in the country ; and I believe, if we 
 attend to it sufficiently, it will be found, that: 
 the period when we became sensible to their 
 beauty, was when we first began to feel 
 them as expressive, either from our own ob- 
 servation of Nature, or from the perusal of 
 books of poetry. In the same manner, 
 they who travel into very distant countries, 
 are at first insensible to the beauty which 
 the natives of these countries ascribe to the 
 notes of the animals belonging to them, ob- 
 viously from their not having yet acquired 
 the associations which are the foundation of 
 their beauty. The notes which are sacred 
 from any kind of superstition, are beautiful 
 only to those who are under the dominion 
 of that superstition. A foreigner does not 
 distinguish any beauty in the note of the 
 Stork. To the Hollander, however, to whom
 
 250 SUBLIMITY ANP BEAUTY 
 
 that bird is the object of a very popular and 
 very pleasing superstition, this note is singu- 
 larly beautiful. 
 
 2. Such Sounds as are either from experi- 
 ence, or from imagination, associated with 
 certain qualities capable of producing Emo- 
 tion, are beautiful only when they are per- 
 ceived in those tempers of mind which are 
 favourable to these Emotions. Instances 
 of this are very numerous. The bleating of 
 a Lamb is beautiful in a fine day in spring: 
 in the depth of winter it is very far from be- 
 ing so. The lowing of a Cow at a distance, 
 amid the scenery of a pastoral landscape in 
 summer, is extremely beautiful : in a farm- 
 yard it is absolutely disagreeable. The hum 
 of the Beetle is beautiful in a fine summer 
 evening, as appearing to suit the stillness 
 and repose of that pleasing season : in the 
 noon of day it is perfectly indifferent. The 
 twitter of the Swallow is beautiful in the 
 morning, and seems to be expressive of the 
 cheerfulness of tlu.t lime: at any other hour
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 231 
 
 it is quite insignificant. Even the song of 
 the Nightingale, so wonderfully charming 
 in the twilight, or at night, is altogether dis- 
 regarded during the day; in so much so, 
 that it has given rise to the common mis- 
 take, that this bird does not sing but at. 
 
 ni^ht. If such notes were beautiful in 
 
 ~ 
 
 themselves, independently of all associa- 
 tion, they would, necessarily, at all times 
 be beautiful. 
 
 3. In this, as in other cases before men- 
 tioned, when suck associations are destroy- 
 ed, the Beauty of the Sounds ceases to be 
 felt. The call of a Goat, for instance, 
 among rocks, is strikingly beautiful, as ex- 
 pressing wildness and independence. In 
 a farm-yard, or in a common inclosure, it is 
 very far from being so. The plaintive and 
 interesting bleat of the Lamb ceases to be 
 beautiful whenever it ceases to be the sign 
 of infancy, and the call for that tenderness 
 which the infancy of all animals so natural- 
 ly demands. There is a bird that imitates
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 the notes of all other birds with great ac~ 
 curaey. Such imitations, however, are not 
 in the least beautiful in it. There are peo- 
 ple, in the same manner, who imitate the 
 song of birds with surprising dexterity. It 
 is the imitation, however, in such a case, 
 that alone pleases us, and not the notes 
 themselves. It is possible (according to 
 the curious experiments of Mr Barring-ton) 
 to teach a bird of any species the notes of 
 any other species. It may however, I 
 think, very justly be doubted, whether the 
 acquired notes would be equally beautiful. 
 The connection we observe between parti- 
 cular birds, and the peculiar scenes in Na- 
 ture which they inhabit, and the different 
 seasons at which they appear ; and the 
 oreat difference in their instincts and man- 
 
 ^ 
 
 ner of life, render their notes expressive to 
 us of very dissimilar characters ; and we 
 accordingly distinguish them by epithets ex- 
 pressive of this variety. The wildness of 
 the Linnet, the tenderness of the Redbreast.
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 233 
 
 the peitness of the Sparrow, the cheerfulness 
 of the Lark, the softness of the Bullfinch, 
 the plaintiveness of the Nightingale, the 
 melancholy of the Owl, are expressions in 
 general use, and the Associations we thus 
 connect with them, very obviously deter- 
 mine the character or expression of their 
 Notes. By the artificial education above 
 mentioned, all these Associations would be 
 destroyed ; and, as far as I am able to 
 judge, all, or at least a great part of the 
 Beauty we feel from their songs. It is in 
 the same manner that we are generally un- 
 happy, instead of being delighted with the 
 song of a bird in the cas;e. It is somewhat 
 
 O O 
 
 like the smile of Grief, which is much more 
 dreadful than tears, or like the playfulness 
 of an infant, amid scenes of Sorrow. It is 
 difficult therefore to say, whether in this cruel 
 practice there is a greater want of Taste or 
 of Humanity ; and there could be in fact 
 no excuse for it, if there were not a kind of 
 tenderness excited towards them, from ihv
 
 234 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 reflection that they are altogether depend- 
 ent upon our benevolence, and a very na- 
 tural gratitude awakened, by the exertions 
 they make for our pleasure. 
 
 I forbear to produce any farther illustra- 
 tions on this subject. From those that have 
 been produced, it seems to me that we have 
 sufficient ground for concluding, that, of 
 those Sounds which have been considered, 
 the Sounds that occur in the scenes of Na- 
 ture, and the Sounds produced by animals, 
 the Sublimity or Beauty arises from the 
 qualities of which they are considered as 
 the Signs or Expressions, and not from any 
 original fitness in the Sounds themselves to 
 produce such Emotions. 
 
 I have only further to add, that upon the 
 principle of the absolute and independent 
 Sublimity or Beauty of Sounds, it is very 
 difficult to account for the different Sounds 
 which have been mentioned as productive 
 of these Emotions. There is certainly no 
 resemblance as sounds, between the noise 
 10
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 of Thunder and the hissing of a Serpent, 
 between the growling of a Tyger, and the 
 explosion of Gunpowder, between the 
 scream of an Eagle, and the shouting of a 
 multitude ; yet all of these are Sublime. In 
 the same manner, there is as little resem- 
 blance, between the tinkling of the Sheep, 
 fold bell, and the murmuring of the Breeze, 
 between the hum of the Beetle, and the 
 song of the Lark, between the twitter of 
 the Swallow, and the sound of the Curfew ; 
 yet all of these are beautiful. Upon the 
 principle which I endeavour to illustrate, 
 they are all perfectly accountable. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 Of the Tones of the Human Voice. 
 
 THERE is a similar Sublimity or Beauty 
 felt in particular Notes or Tones of the hu- 
 man Voice. 
 
 That such Sounds are associated in our
 
 236 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Imaginations, with the qualities of mind of 
 which they are in general expressive, and 
 that they naturally produce in us the con- 
 ception of these qualities, is a fact so ob- 
 vious, that there is no man who must not 
 have observed it. There are some Philoso- 
 phers who consider these as the natural 
 signs of Passion or Affection, and who be- 
 lieve that it is not from Experience, but by 
 means of an original Faculty, that we in- 
 terpret them : and this opinion is support- 
 ed by great authorities. Whether this is so, 
 or not, in the present inquiry, is of no very 
 great importance ; since, although it should 
 be denied that we understand such si^ns 
 
 o 
 
 instinctively, it cannot be denied, that very 
 early in infancy this Association is formed, 
 and that our opinions and conduct are re- 
 gulated by it. 
 
 That the Beauty or Sublimity of such 
 Tones arises from the nature of the quali- 
 ties they express, and not from the na- 
 ture of the Sounds themselves, may per-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 23 / 
 
 haps appear from the following observa- 
 tions. 
 
 1. Such sounds are beautiful or sublime, 
 only as they express Passions or Affections 
 which excite our sympathy. There are a 
 great variety of tones in the human voice, 
 yet all these tones are not beautiful. If we 
 inquire what are the particular Tones which 
 are so, it will universally be found, that 
 they are such as arc expressive of pleasing 
 or interesting affections. The tones peculiar 
 to Anger, Peevishness, Malice, Envy, Mis- 
 anthropy, Deceit, &c. are neither agreeable 
 nor beautiful. The tone of Good Nature, 
 though very agreeable, is not beautiful but 
 at particular seasons, because the quality 
 itself is in general rather the source of com- 
 placence than pleasure : we regret the want 
 of it, but we do not much enjoy its presence. 
 On the contrary, the tones peculiar to 
 Hope, Joy, Humility, Gentleness, Modesty, 
 Melancholy, c. though all extremely differ- 
 ent, are all beautiful ; because the qualities
 
 238 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 they express are all the objects of Interest and 
 Approbation. In the same manner, the tones 
 peculiar to Magnanimity, Fortitude, Self- 
 denial, Patience, Resignation, &c. are all 
 sublime ; and for a similar reason. This 
 coincidence of the Beauty and Sublimity of 
 the Tones of the human Voice, with those 
 qualities of mind that are interesting or af- 
 fecting to us, if it is not a formal proof, is yet 
 a strong presumption that it is from the ex- 
 pression of such qualities that these sounds 
 derive their Sublimity or Beauty. 
 
 2. The effect of such sounds in produ- 
 cing these Emotions, instead of being per- 
 manent, is limited by the particular temper 
 of mind we happen to be in, or by the coin- 
 cidence between that temper, and the pecu- 
 liar qualities of which such sounds are ex- 
 pressive. To most men, for instance, the 
 tone of Hope is beautiful. To a man in 
 Despair, I presume it would be far from 
 being so. To a man in Grief, the tone of 
 Cheerfulness is simply painful. The tone of
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 239 
 
 Indignation, though in particular situations 
 strongly sublime, to a man of a quiet and 
 placid temper is unpleasant. To men of 
 an ardent and sanguine character, the tone 
 of Patience is contemptible. To peevish 
 and irritable spirits, the voice of Humility, 
 so peculiarly beautiful, is provoking. Such 
 observations may be extended to many di- 
 versities of passion : and it may still farther 
 be remarked, that those Sounds in the hu- 
 man Voice, which are most beautiful or 
 most sublime to us, are always those that 
 are expressive of the qualities of mind, 
 which, from our particular constitutions or 
 habits, we are most disposed to be affected 
 by. If the Beauty or Sublimity of such 
 tones were independent of the qualities of 
 mind we thus associate with them, such di- 
 versities could not happen, and the same 
 Sounds would produce uniformly the same 
 Emotions, as the same Colours or Smells 
 produce uniformly the same Sensations. 
 3. Similar Tones, in this case, do not
 
 240 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 produce similar Emotions, as should seem 
 to happen if these effects were produced by 
 the mere Sounds themselves. There is lit- 
 tle affinity, for instance, between the low 
 and depressed tone of Grief, and the shrill 
 and piercing note of Joy ; } r et both are 
 beautiful. There is little resemblance be- 
 tween the loud sound of Rage, and the 
 low placid tone of Patience ; yet both are, 
 in many cases, sublime. The tone of 
 Peevishness is not very different from the 
 tone of Melancholy ; yet the one is beauti- 
 ful, the other positively disagreeable. The 
 tone of Pusillanimity is little distinguish- 
 able from the tone of Patience ; but how 
 different in the effects they produce up- 
 on our minds ! Observations of this kind, 
 it is in the power of every one to ex- 
 tend. 
 
 4. Whenever these Tones are counterfeit- 
 ed, or whenever they cease to be the Signs. 
 of those qualities of mind of which we have 
 generally found them significant, they im-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 24:1 
 
 mediately cease either to be sublime or 
 beautiful. Every one must have observed, 
 that this is the effect of Mimickry. Wher- 
 ever, in the same manner, any species of 
 deceit is used ; or where we know that these 
 tones are employed, without the existence 
 of the correspondent passions, we no longer 
 feel them as beautiful or sublime. If the 
 Sounds themselves were the causes of these 
 emotions, whatever we might think of the 
 person, the Sounds themselves would con- 
 tinue to produce the Emotions either of Su- 
 blimity or Beauty, in the same manner as the 
 most absurd misapplication of Colours, never 
 disturbs our perception of them as colours. 
 
 5. There is yet a further consideration, 
 which may perhaps more clearly illustrate 
 this opinion, viz. That the Beauty or su- 
 blimity of such Sounds in the human Voice, 
 altogether depends on our opinion of the 
 propriety or impropriety of the affections 
 which they express. We know either from 
 Mature, or from Experience, that particular 
 
 VOL I. Q
 
 242 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Sounds or Tones are the expression of parti- 
 cular Passions and Affections ; and the per- 
 ception of such sounds is immediately ac- 
 companied with the conception of such af- 
 fections in the person from whom they pro- 
 ceed. But it is only from actual observa- 
 tion or inquiry, that we can know what is 
 the cause of these affections. Our sym- 
 pathy, our interest, it is plain, depends on 
 the nature of this connection, on our opi- 
 nion of the propriety or impropriety of such 
 affections in such circumstances. All this, 
 however, does not in any degree affect the 
 nature of the Sound, which is still the same, 
 whether the affection be proper or improper, 
 It is very obvious, however, that our sense 
 of the Beauty or Sublimity of such Sounds, 
 depends on our opinion of this Propriety. 
 No tone of Passion or Affection is beauti- 
 ful, with which we do not sympathize. The 
 tone of Joy, for instance, is beautiful, in 
 most cases where it is heard. Suppose we 
 find that such a Sound proceeds from some
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 243 
 
 very trifling or ridiculous cause, our sense of 
 its Beauty is instantly destroyed with our 
 opinion of its Propriety. The tone of Me- 
 lancholy, or moderated Grief, is affecting 
 and beautiful beyond most others. Assign 
 
 * o 
 
 some frivolous reason for it, and instantly 
 it becomes contemptible. The tone of Pa- 
 tience is sublime in a great degree. Tell us 
 that it is Pusillanimity, and its effect is in- 
 stantly gone. The high imperious note of 
 Rage is often sublime. A trifling cause 
 renders it simply painful. The same ob- 
 servation may be extended to the tones of 
 all our passions. It is, I conceive, extreme- 
 ly difficult, if not impossible, to account for 
 this change of Emotion, on the principle of 
 the original and independent Beauty of 
 such Sounds. 
 
 With regard to the Human Voice, how- 
 
 o 
 
 ever, it is to be observed, that besides all 
 this, there is also a Beauty in particular de- 
 grees of the same Tones. Although the ex- 
 pression of the different passions is the same
 
 '244 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 In all men, yet it necessarily happens, that 
 there is a sensible difference in the de- 
 gree or character of these similar Sounds. 
 
 o 
 
 There is no man of any delicacy of organs, 
 who must not often have been sensible of 
 such-differences. These also are expressive to 
 us of several qualities. They are, in ih&Jirst 
 place, expressive of the perfection or imper- 
 fection of the organs of speech, and of the 
 health or indisposition of the person ; circum- 
 stances which often determine in a great de- 
 gree, when either of these expressions are 
 strong, the pleasure or pain we have in their 
 conversation. L 2 dly, They are expressive also 
 of the temper or character of mind. As 
 we are naturally led to judge of the charac- 
 ter of the person, from the peculiar tones of 
 his voice, and to believe that such passions 
 have the principal dominion of his mind, 
 which have the most prevalent expression 
 iu his speech, so we are led in the same 
 way to judge of the degree or force of these 
 passions, by the degree or strength of such
 
 OP THE MATERIAL WOULD. 245 
 
 tones in Ms voice. This kind of inference 
 is- so*- natural, that there is perhaps no 
 person who has not made it. That the 
 Beauty of such degrees of Sound arises from 
 such associations is apparent, as it is ex- 
 pressive to us of moderation and self-com- 
 mand, as it expresses habit, more than 
 immediate impulse, as it is peculiar to 
 such tones only as are expressive of affect- 
 ing passions or dispositions of mind, as il 
 is felt alone by those who are affected by 
 such dispositions, and as it is beautiful only 
 in those cases where this temperance of 
 Emotion, of which it is the sign, is consi- 
 dered as proper. I forbear therefore any 
 further illustration of it. 
 
 The observations which I have offered on 
 the subject of Simple Sounds, are perhaps 
 sufficient to show, that I he Sublimity and 
 Beauty of these Sounds arises, in all
 
 246 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 from the qualities with which we have ob- 
 served them connected, and of which they 
 appear to us as the Signs or Expressions ; 
 and that no Sounds in themselves are fitted 
 by the constitution of our nature to produce 
 these Emotions. 
 
 It is natural, however, to suppose, that in 
 this, as in every other case, our experience 
 should gradually lead to the formation of 
 some general rules with regard to this expres- 
 sion ; and that different sounds should appear 
 to us to have a difference of character, ac- 
 cording to the nature of the qualities with 
 which we most frequently find them conjoin- 
 ed. This supposition will appear more pro- 
 bable, when we consider, not only that the 
 diversities of sounds are few, and consequent- 
 ly that rules of this kind can be more easily 
 formed ; but particularly, that these diver- 
 sities of sounds are the immediate expres- 
 sions of different qualities of mind in the hu- 
 man Voice, and consequently, that their cha- 
 racter becomes more certain and definite.
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WOULD. 24? 
 
 J believe, in fact, that something of this 
 
 o 
 
 kind takes place early in life, and that, long 
 before we are able to attend to their forma- 
 tion, we have formed certain general asso- 
 ciations, with all the great diversities of 
 sound, and that, in after life, they continue 
 to be generally expressive of these charac- 
 ters. 
 
 To enumerate these general expressions, 
 is a very delicate, as well as a very difficult 
 task. I hazard, therefore, the following 
 observations, only as hints for the prosecu- 
 tion of the subject ; and as I am sensible 
 of their imperfection, I am willing to rest no 
 conclusion upon them. 
 
 The great divisions of Sound are into 
 Lound and Low, Grave and Acute, Long 
 and Short, Increasing and Diminishing. 
 
 O > 
 
 The two lirst divisions are expressive in 
 themselves : the two last only in conjunc- 
 tion with others. 
 
 1. Loud Sound is connected with ideas 
 of Power and Danger. Many objects m
 
 248 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 nature which have such qualities, are dis- 
 tinguished by such sounds, and this asso- 
 ciation is farther confirmed from the human 
 Voice, in which all violent and impetuous 
 passions are expressed in loud tones. 
 
 2. Low Sound has a contrary expres- 
 sion, and is connected with ideas of Weak- 
 ness, Gentleness, and Delicacy. This as- 
 sociation takes its rise not only from the 
 observation of inanimate nature, or of ani- 
 mals, where, in a great number of cases, 
 such sounds distinguish objects with such 
 qualities, but particularly from the human 
 Voice, where all gentle, or delicate, or 
 sorrowful affections, are expressed by such 
 tones. 
 
 3. Grave Sound is connected with ideas 
 of Moderation, Dignity, Solemnity, &c. 
 principally, I believe, from all moderate, or 
 restrained, or chastened affections being 
 distinguished by such tones in the human 
 Voice. 
 
 4. Acute Sound is expressive of Pain, or
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WOULD. 249 
 
 Fear, or Surprise, c. and generally ope- 
 rates by producing some degree of asto- 
 nishment This association, also, seems 
 principally to arise from our experience of 
 such connections in the human Voice. 
 
 5. Long or lengthened Sound seems to 
 
 ~ ~ 
 
 me to have no expression in itself, but only 
 to signify the continuance of that quality 
 which is signified by other qualities of 
 Sound. A loud, or a low, a grave, or an 
 acute Sound prolonged, expresses to us no 
 more than the continuance of the qua 
 lity which is generally signified by such 
 Sounds. 
 
 6'. Short or abrupt Sound has a contrary 
 expression, and signifies the cessation of the 
 quality thus expressed. 
 
 7. Increasing Sound signifies, in the same 
 manner, the increase of the quality expres- 
 sed ; as 
 
 8. Decreasing Sound signifies the gradual 
 diminution of such qualities. 
 
 I shall leave to the reader to attend to
 
 250 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 the diversity of expression which arises from 
 the different combination of these diversi- 
 ties of Sound. 
 
 The most Sublime of these Sounds ap- 
 pears to me to be a loud, grave, lengthen- 
 ed and increasing Sound. 
 
 The least Sublime, a low, acute, abrupt, 
 or decreasing Sound. 
 
 o 
 
 The most beautiful, a low, grave and de- 
 creasing Sound. 
 
 o 
 
 The least beautiful, a loud, acute, length- 
 ened and increasing Sound. 
 
 o 
 
 Such are the few general principles that, 
 as far as I can judge, lake place, with re- 
 gard to the Sublimity or Beauty of Sounds. 
 The innumerable exceptions that there are 
 to every one of these rules, afford a suffi- 
 cient proof, that this Sublimity or Beauty 
 does not arise from the Sounds themselves. 
 Wherever, however, any new sound occurs, 
 it is, I think, by its approach to one or 
 other of these classes that we determine it? 
 Sublimity or Beauty.
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 251 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of Composed Sounds, or 
 
 I. 
 
 IN the preceding illustrations, I have 
 considered only Simple Sounds as produ- 
 cing the Emotions of Sublimity or Beauty. 
 
 Sounds, however, are capable of being 
 united by certain law r s, and of forming a 
 whole. To such a composition of Sounds 
 we give the name of Music ; an Art, con- 
 fessedly, of great power, in producing Emo- 
 tions both of Sublimity and Beauty, and 
 the source of one of the first and purest 
 pleasures of which our nature is susceptible. 
 
 Upon this subject, I shall beg leave to 
 offer a few observations, although it is with 
 great diffidence that I speak upon an art 
 of which I have no theoretical knowledge,
 
 252 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUT! 
 
 and of which I can fud^e only from the 
 
 .J O 
 
 effect that it produces on myself. 
 
 The essence of Music consists in conti- 
 nued Sounds. The same sound, however, 
 when continued, has no beauty, farther 
 than as a simple sound, and when long 
 continued, becomes positively disagreeable : 
 Music therefore must necessarily consist in 
 the composition of different sounds. 
 
 The Succession or Composition of all 
 different Sounds is not equally pleasing. 
 By a peculiar law of our nature, there are 
 certain sounds of which the union is agree- 
 able, and others of which the union is dis- 
 agreeable. There is therefore a relation be- 
 tween sounds, established by nature, which 
 cannot be violated without pain. -Music 
 therefore, as an art intended to produce 
 pleasure, must consist in the composition 
 of related Sounds. 
 
 These observations are sufficiently ob~ 
 ,vious. There are, however, two other cir-
 
 or TUB MATERIAL WORLD. 253 
 
 cumstances in the Succession of Sounds, 
 necessary to constitute Music. 
 
 1. The mere Succession of related Sounds 
 is not in itself pleasing. Although the Suc- 
 cession of any two related Sounds is agree- 
 able, yet a whole series of such Sounds, in 
 which no other relation was observed but 
 the relation between individual Sounds, 
 would be absolutely disagreeable. To ren- 
 der such a series pleasing, it is necessary 
 that it should possess Unity, or that we 
 should discern a relation not only Ix'tween 
 the individual Sounds, but also among the 
 whole number of Sounds that constitute the 
 series. Although every word in language 
 is significant, and there is a necessary rela- 
 tion among words, established by the rules 
 of grammar ; yet it is obviously possible to 
 arrange words according to grammatical 
 
 o o o 
 
 rules, which yet shall possess no meaning. 
 In the same manner, a series of Sounds may 
 be composed, according to their individual 
 relations, which yet may possess no general
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 relation, and from which, as we can disco- 
 ver no end, we can derive no pleasure. 
 What Thought is to the arrangement of 
 words, the Key, or the fundamental Tone, 
 is to the arrangement of Sounds ; and as 
 the one constitutes a whole in language, by 
 establishing a certain and definite idea, to 
 which all the words in a sentence bear a 
 relation, so the other constitutes a whole in 
 Music, by establishing a definite and lead- 
 ing Sound, to which all the other Sounds in 
 the series bear a similar relation. The first 
 circumstance, therefore, that distinguishes 
 musical Succession, is the preservation of 
 this relation among all the individual Sounds, 
 to one key or fundamental tone, which is 
 the foundation and end of the composition. 
 2. The second circumstance which distin- 
 guishes Musical Succession, is the Regula- 
 rity or Uniformity of that Succession. In 
 natural events, Succession without Regula- 
 rity is confusion ; and wherever Art or De- 
 sign is supposed, is positively disagreeable. 
 
 10
 
 OP THE MATERIAL WORLD. 255 
 
 In Music therefore, as an Art designed to 
 please, Regularity or Uniformity is abso- 
 lutely necessary. The most pleasing suc- 
 cession of Sounds, without the preservation 
 of this Regularity, or what is commonly 
 called Time, every one knows, is positively 
 displeasing. For this purpose, every suc- 
 cession of Sounds is supposed to be divid- 
 ed into certain equal intervals, which, whe- 
 ther they comprehend more or fewer Notes, 
 occupy the same space of Time in the suc- 
 cession of these Notes. To preserve this 
 Uniformity, if there are few Sounds in this 
 Interval, these Sounds must be prolonged 
 to occupy the whole space of Time. If 
 there are many, they must be sounded 
 quickly for the same reason. The one con- 
 stitutes w T hat is called Slow, the other what 
 is called Quick Time in common language. 
 In both cases, however, the space or por- 
 tion of time allotted to each Interval is uni- 
 formly the same, and constitutes the only 
 Regularity of which Sounds in succession
 
 256 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 are capable. A regular or uniform succes- 
 sion of Sounds, therefore, related to one 
 Key or fundamental Note, may be consi- 
 dered as constituting Musical succession, 
 and as distinguishing it from all other suc- 
 cessions of Sound. The accurate percep- 
 tion both of this Regularity, and of this Re- 
 lation, constitutes that Faculty which is ge- 
 nerally called a good or a Musical Ear. 
 
 II. 
 
 If, therefore, we consider Music as such 
 a succession of Sounds as I have now de- 
 scribed, the two circumstances which dis- 
 tinguish or determine the nature or charac- 
 
 O 
 
 ter of every Composition, are, the Nature 
 of the Key, and the Nature of the Pro- 
 gress ; the Nature of the Fundamental and 
 governing Sound, and the Nature, or (as it is 
 commonly called) the Time, of the Succes- 
 sion. 
 
 With both of these characteristics of Mu-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 257 
 
 sical composition I apprehend that we 
 have many Associations. 
 
 The Key or Fundamental Tone of every 
 Composition, from its relation to the Tones 
 of the human Voice, is naturally expressive 
 to us of those qualities or affections of mind 
 which are signified by such Sounds. It is 
 perhaps unnecessary to offer any illustration 
 of this, because it is so obvious to every man's 
 observation. The relation of such Tones in 
 Music to the expression of the qualities of 
 mind is indeed so strong, that all Musicians 
 understand what Keys or what Tones are 
 fitted for the expression of those affections, 
 which it is within the reach of Music to ex- 
 press. It is also observable, that they who 
 are most unacquainted with Music, are yet 
 able immediately to say, what is the affec- 
 tion which any particular Key is fitted to 
 express. Whether any piece of Music is 
 beautiful, or not, may be a subject of dis- 
 pute, and very often is so ; but whether the 
 Sounds of which it is composed arc gay or 
 
 VOL. i. R
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 solemn, cheerful or melancholy, elevating or 
 depressing, there is seldom any dispute. 
 
 That the Time of musical Composition is 
 also expressive to us of various affecting 
 or interesting qualities, can scarcely be dis- 
 puted. In all ages, quick time, or a rapid 
 succession of Sounds, has been appropriated 
 to the expression of Mirth and Gaiety: slow 
 time, or a slow succession of Sounds, to the 
 expression of Melancholy or Sadness. All 
 the passions or affections, therefore, which 
 partake of either of these ingredients, may 
 be generally expressed by such circum- 
 stances in the Composition, and the dif- 
 ferent degrees of such Movements may, in 
 the same manner, express such affections 
 as partake of any intermediate nature be- 
 tween these extremes. In what manner 
 the conception of such affections is associat- 
 ed with such circumstances in the progress 
 of Sound, it is not my business to explain. 
 It is sufficient that the fact itself is acknow- 
 ledged. I cannot avoid, however, observ*
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 259 
 
 ing, that there is a very strong analogy, not 
 only between the progress of Musical Sounds, 
 and the progress of Sounds in the human 
 Voice, in the case of particular passions ; 
 but that there is also a similar analogy be- 
 tween such progress in Sounds, and the 
 progress of Thought in the case of such 
 Passions. Under the influence of pleasing 
 or agreeable passions, the articulation is 
 quick ; in the case of contrary passions it 
 is slow : and so strong is this expression, 
 that we are disposed to judge of the pas- 
 sion any person is affected with, although 
 we do not hear the words he utters, merely 
 from the slowness or rapidity of his arti- 
 culation. It is observable, in the same man- 
 ner, that different passions have an influ- 
 ence upon the progress of our thoughts, 
 and that they operate very sensibly either 
 in accelerating or retarding this progress. 
 All the passions which belong to Pleasure, 
 are attended with a rapid succession of 
 Thoughts, and seem to give an unusual do-
 
 260 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 gree of vigour to our Imagination. The 
 passions, on the contrary, which belong to 
 Pain, produce, in general, a slow and lan- 
 guid succession of Thought, and seem to 
 depress our Imagination below its usual 
 Tone. This is so obvious, that every per- 
 son must have observed it even in conver- 
 sation. 
 
 The Progress of musical Sounds, there- 
 fore, may very naturally express to us the 
 nature or character of particular passions, 
 not only from the analogy between such 
 progress of Sounds, and the progress of 
 Thought ; but still more from its being in a 
 great measure the Sign of such affections of 
 mind, by making use of the same Sounds 
 or Tones, and the same varieties in the pro- 
 gress of these Sounds, which are in real life 
 the Signs of such affections in the human 
 Voice. Whether these observations ac- 
 count for the associations we have with 
 musical Time, or not, is at present a mat- 
 ter of no consequence, as the fact itself
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 is sufficiently certain. The appropriation 
 of particular Time, to particular Emotions, 
 has taken place in every age and country, 
 is understood by every man, and is not the 
 less certain, though no account can be given 
 of the reason of it. 
 
 It is in thus being able to express both 
 the Tone of Passion or Affection, and that 
 progress of Thought or Sentiment which be- 
 longs to such Affections, that, in as far as I 
 am able to judge, the real Foundation of 
 musical Expression consists. It is far be- 
 yond the bounds which I prescribe myself 
 in these observations, to enter into any 
 minute investigation of the different expres- 
 sions which such Sounds, and such Com- 
 positions of Sounds in general possess. But 
 if the reader will recollect, what are the dis- 
 tinct associations which it has formerly been 
 observed we have with Sounds or Tones, as 
 loud or soft, grave or acute, and the par- 
 ticular associations which it has now been 
 observed we have with the different pro-
 
 262 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 gressions of Sound, as quick, or moderate, 
 or slow ; and will further attend to the pos- 
 sible number of ways in which these dif- 
 ferent characteristics of Music may be com- 
 bined, he will be fully sensible both of the 
 different Emotions which it is in the power 
 of Music to express, and of the great va- 
 riety which it affords in the expression of 
 these Emotions. 
 
 If I am not mistaken, the real extent of 
 Musical expression coincides in a great de- 
 gree with this account of it. These Signs in 
 the human Voice are general Signs. They 
 express particular classes of passion or emo- 
 tion, but they do not express any particular 
 passion. If we had no other means of in- 
 tercourse or of information, we might from 
 such Signs infer, that the person was elevat- 
 ed or depressed, gay or solemn, cheerful or 
 plaintive, joyous or sad ; but we could not, 
 I think, infer, what was the particular pas- 
 sion which produced these expressions. Mu- 
 sic, which can avail itself of these Signs only,
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 263 
 
 can express nothing more particular than 
 the Signs themselves. It will be found, ac- 
 cordingly, that it is within this limit that 
 musical Expression is really confined ; that 
 such classes of Emotion it can perfectly ex- 
 press ; but that when it goes beyond this 
 limit, it ceases to be either expressive or 
 beautiful. The general Emotions of Gaiety, 
 Elevation, Solemnity, Melancholy or Sad- 
 ness, it is every day found to express ; and 
 with regard to such general expressions 
 there is never any mistake ; but when it at- 
 tempts to go further, when it attempts to ex- 
 press particular passions, Ambition, For- 
 titude, Pity, Love, Gratitude, &c. it either 
 fails altogether in its effect, or is obliged to 
 have recourse to the assistance of words to 
 render it intelligible. " It is in general 
 " true (says Dr Beattie) that Poetry is the 
 " most immediate and the most accurate 
 u interpreter of Music. Without this auxili- 
 " ary, a piece of the best music, heard for 
 " the first time, might be said to mean
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 " something, but we should not be able to 
 
 " say what. It might incline the heart to 
 
 " sensibility, but poetry or language would 
 
 " be necessary to improve that sensibility 
 
 " into a real Emotion, by fixing the fancy 
 
 " upon some definite and affecting ideas. 
 
 " A fine instrumental symphony well per- 
 
 " formed, is like an oration delivered with 
 
 " propriety, but in an unknown tongue ; it 
 
 " may affect us a little, but conveys no de- 
 
 " terminate feeling. We are alarmed, per- 
 
 " haps, or melted or soothed ; but it is very 
 
 " imperfectly, because we know not why. 
 
 " The singer by taking up the same air, 
 
 " and applying words to it, immediately 
 
 " translates the oration into our own lan- 
 
 " guage. Then all uncertainty vanishes, 
 
 " the fancy is filled with determinate ideas, 
 
 " and determinate Emotions take posses- 
 
 " sion of the heart/' Essay upon Poetry 
 
 and Music, part 1. chap. vi. 
 
 Nor is this confining the Expression of 
 which Music is capable within narrower li-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 265 
 
 mils than is consistent with our experience of 
 its effects. Although its real power consists 
 in its imitation of those Signs of Emotion or 
 Passion which take place in the human 
 Voice, yet from its nature it possesses ad- 
 vantages which these Signs have not, and 
 which render it, within those limits, one of 
 the most powerful means which can be 
 made use of in exciting Emotion. As far 
 as I am able to judge, these advantages 
 principally consist in the two following cir- 
 cumstances : 
 
 1. In that variety of sounds which it ad- 
 mits of, in conformity to the key, or funda- 
 mental Tone. In the real Expression of 
 Passion in the human Voice, the Sound is 
 nearly uniform, or at least admits of very 
 small variation. In so far, therefore, .as 
 mere Sound is concerned, the tone of any 
 passion would in a short time become un- 
 pleasing from its uniformity ; and if this 
 effect were not forgot, in our attention to 
 the language and sentiments of the person
 
 266 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY 
 
 who addresses us, would be perceived by 
 every ear. In Music, on the contrary, the 
 variety of related Sounds which may be in- 
 troduced, not only prevents this unpleasing 
 effect of uniformity, and preserves the 
 Emotion which the prevailing tone is of it- 
 self able to excite, but, by varying the ex- 
 pression of it, keeps both our attention and 
 our imagination continually awake. The 
 one resembles what we should feel from the 
 passion of any person, who uniformly made 
 use of the same words to express to us what 
 he felt. The other, what Ave feel from that 
 eloquence of passion, where new images are 
 continually presenting themselves to the 
 mind of the speaker, and a new source of 
 delight is afforded to our imagination, in 
 the perception of the agreement of those 
 images with the Emotions from which they 
 arise. The effect of musical Composition, 
 in this light, resembles, in some measure, 
 the progress of an oration, in which our in- 
 terest is continually kept alive ; and if it
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 267 
 
 were possible for us, for a moment, to for- 
 get that the performer is only repeating a 
 lesson, were it possible for us to imagine, 
 that the sounds we hear were the imme- 
 diate expressions of his own Emotion, the 
 effect of Music might be conceived in some 
 measure to approach to the effect of Elo- 
 quence. To those who have felt this influ- 
 ence, in the degree in which, in some sea- 
 sons of sensibility, it may be felt, there is 
 no improbability in the accounts of the ef- 
 fects of Music in early times, when the pro- 
 fessions of Poetry and Music were not se- 
 parated : when the Bard, under the influ- 
 ence of some strong and present impression, 
 accommodated his melody to the language 
 of his own passion ; and when the hearers, 
 under the influence of the same impression, 
 were prepared to go along with him, in 
 every variety of that Emotion which he felt 
 and expressed himself. 
 
 2. But, besides this, there is another cir- 
 cumstance in which the Expression of Mn-
 
 268 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 sic differs materially from the Expression 
 of natural Signs, and which serves to add 
 considerably to the strength of its effect. 
 Such natural Sounds express to us imme- 
 diately, if they express at all, the Emotion 
 of the person from whom they proceed, 
 and therefore immediately excite our own 
 Emotion. As these Sounds, however, have 
 little or no variety, and excite immediately 
 their correspondent Emotion, it necessarily 
 happens, that they become weaker as they 
 proceed, until at last they become positive- 
 ly disagreeable. In musical Composition, 
 on the contrary, as such Sounds constitute a 
 whole, and have all a relation to the Key, or 
 fundamental Note in which they close, they 
 not only afford us a satisfaction as parts of 
 a regular whole, but, what is of much more 
 consequence, they keep our attention con- 
 tinually awake, and our expectation excit- 
 ed, until we arrive at that fundamental Tone, 
 which is both the clo<e of the Comp si;ion, 
 and the end of our expectation. Instead,
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 therefore, (as in the former case) of our 
 Emotion becoming more languid as the 
 Sounds proceed, it becomes, in the case of 
 musical Composition, on the contrary, more 
 strong. The peculiar affection we feel is 
 kept continually increasing, by means of 
 the expectation which is excited for the 
 perfection of this whole, and the one and 
 the other are only gratified when we arrive 
 at this desired and expected end. 
 
 In this respect, indeed, musical Expres- 
 sion is in itself superior even to the Expres- 
 sion of Lano;ua2;c : and were the Passions 
 ~ ~ 
 
 or Affections which it can express, as defi- 
 nite or particular, as those which can be 
 communicated by Words, it may well be 
 doubted, whether there is any Composition 
 of Words which could so powerfully affect 
 us, as such a Composition of Sounds. In 
 Language, every person under the influence 
 of Passion or Emotion, naturally begins 
 with expressing the cause of his Emotion ; 
 an observation, which every one must have
 
 570 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 made in real life, and which might easily 
 be confirmed by instances from Dramatic 
 Poetry. In this case, our Emotion is im- 
 mediately at its height, and as it has no 
 longer any assistance from curiosity, natur- 
 ally cools as the Speaker goes on. In 
 Music, on the contrary, the manner of this 
 
 * / * 
 
 communication resembles the artful, but in- 
 teresting conduct of the Epic or Dramatic 
 Poem, where we find ourselves at once in- 
 volved in the progress of some great In- 
 terest, where our Curiosity is wound up to 
 its utmost to discover the event, and where 
 at every step this Interest increases, from 
 bringing us nearer to the expected end. 
 That the effect of musical Composition is 
 similar, that while it excites Emotion from 
 the nature of the Sounds, it excites also an 
 increasing expectation and interest from 
 the conduct of these Sounds, and from their 
 continued dependence upon the close, has, 
 I am persuaded, been felt in the strongest 
 manner by every person of common sensi-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 271 
 
 bilily, and indeed is in itself extremely ob- 
 vious, from the effect which is universally 
 produced by any pathetic composition up- 
 on the Audience. The increasing silence, 
 the impatience of interruption, which are 
 so evident as the composition goes on, 
 the arts by which the performer is almost 
 instinctively led to enhance the merit of 
 the close, by seeming to depart from it, 
 the suppression of every sign of emotion till 
 the whole is completed, and the violence 
 either of sensibility or applause, that are 
 immediately displayed, whenever a full and 
 harmonious close is produced ; all testify in 
 the strongest manner the increasing nature 
 of the Emotion, and the singular advantage 
 which Music thus possesses, in keeping the 
 attention and the sensibility so powerfully 
 awake. 
 
 Such seems to me the natural effect of 
 Music on the human Mind : in expressing 
 to us those Affections or Emotions, which 
 are signified by the tones of the "V oice, and
 
 272 
 
 the progress of articulate Sounds ; limited 
 indeed in the reach of its imitation or ex- 
 pression, and far inferior to language, in be- 
 ing confined to the expression only of ge- 
 neral Emotions ; but powerful within those 
 limits, beyond any other means we know, 
 both by the variety which it can afford, and 
 the continued and increasing interest which 
 it can raise. 
 
 It is obvious, that the observations which 
 I have now offered, relate principally to 
 vocal Music, and to that simple species of 
 Composition which is commonly called 
 Sons; or Air. I believe it will be found that 
 
 o 
 
 this is in reality, not only the most expres- 
 sive species of Composition, but the only 
 one which affects the minds of uninstructed 
 Men. It is the only Music of early Ages, 
 the only Music of the common People, the 
 only Music which pleases us in Infancy 
 and early Youth. It is a considerable time 
 before w r e discern the beauties of more arti- 
 ficial Composition, or indeed before we un-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 273 
 
 derstand it. In such kinds of composition. 
 a young person, whatever may be his na- 
 tural taste, seldom discovers any continued 
 relation. He is disposed to divide it in hi* 
 own mind into different parts ; to consider 
 it as a collection of distinct airs ; and he is 
 apt to judge of it, not as a whole, but as 
 the separate parts of it are expressive to 
 him or not. There is nothing accordingly 
 more common, than to find young people 
 expressing their admiration of a particular 
 strain or division of the Composition, and 
 such strains are always the most simple, and 
 those which approach most to the nature of 
 Airs ; but it is seldom, I believe, that they 
 are able to follow the whole of a Concerto, 
 or that they are found to express their ad- 
 miration of it as a whole. 
 
 With such a species of Composition, 
 however, they who are instructed in Alusic 
 have many and very interesting associa- 
 tions. A SOUP' or an Air leads us always 
 
 O * 
 
 to think of the Sentiment, and seldom dis- 
 VOL. i. s
 
 274 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 poses us to think of any thing else. An 
 Overture or a Concerto, disposes us to 
 think of the Composer. It is a work in 
 which much invention, much judgment, 
 and much taste may be displayed ; and it 
 may have, therefore, to those who are capa- 
 ble of judging of it, all that pleasing effect 
 upon the mind, which the composition of an 
 excellent Poem or Oration has upon the 
 minds of those who are judges of such 
 works. The qualities of Skill, of Novelty, 
 of Learning, of Invention, of Taste, may, 
 in this manner, be expressed by such Com- 
 positions ; qualities, it is obvious, which are 
 the foundation both of Sublimity and Beau- 
 ty in other cases, and which may undoubt- 
 edly be the foundation of such characters 
 in musical Composition, even although it 
 should have no other or more affecting ex- 
 pression to recommend it. Nor is this all ; 
 such compositions are not read in private, 
 but are publickly recited. There is there- 
 fore the additional circumstance of the per-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 275 
 
 formance to be attended to ; a circumstance 
 of no mean consequence, and of which 
 every man will acknowledge the import- 
 ance, who recollects the different effects the 
 same composition has produced on him-, 
 when performed by different people. There 
 is therefore, the Judgment, the Taste, the 
 expression of the Performer, in addition to 
 all those different qualities of excellence 
 which may distinguish the Composition ; 
 and the whole effect is similar to that 
 which every one has felt from any celebrat- 
 ed piece of Poetry, when recited by an 
 able and harmonious Declaimer. Even to 
 the very worst music, this gives an effect, 
 and the effect may easily be conceived 
 when the Music also is good. 
 
 III. 
 
 While Music has this power in expres- 
 sing some of the most interesting and affect- 
 ing passions of the human Mind ; and is, in 
 its more artificial state, significant to us of so
 
 27 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 many pleasing and delightful qualities, it will 
 not, I hope, be considered as rash, if I pre- 
 sume to think that it is from these associa- 
 tions that it derives all its power in producing 
 the Emotions of Sublimity or Beauty, and 
 that wherever it does produce either of these 
 effects, it is by being expressive to us either 
 of some interesting passion, or of some va- 
 luable and pleasing quality in the Composi- 
 tion, or the Performance. 
 
 When any musical Composition affects 
 us with the Emotions either of Sublimity or 
 Beauty, it should seem that this effect must 
 arise from one or other of the following 
 causes : 1st, From the nature of the single 
 or individual Sounds which enter into the 
 Composition. 2r%, From the nature of the 
 Composition itself, or from those laws, 
 which, as has before been observed, are 
 necessary to render a succession of Sounds 
 agreeable, or to constitute Music ; or, 3<:%, 
 From the associations we connect with it, 
 or the qualities of which it is expressive to
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 277 
 
 us. That the Beauty or Sublimity of single 
 sounds, is not a quality of the Sounds them- 
 selves, but arises from their expression, I 
 have already endeavoured to illustrate. 
 That the Beauty of musical Composition 
 does not arise from the second of those 
 causes, or from the circumstances of the 
 Composition itself, and that it is altogether 
 to be ascribed to the qualities of which it is 
 expressive to us, I am disposed to conclude 
 from the following considerations : 
 
 1. If the Beauty of Music arose from 
 the regular composition of Sounds, accord- 
 ing to those laws, which are necessary to 
 constitute Music or an agreeable succession 
 of Sounds, it would necessarily follow, that 
 every composition where these laws were 
 observed would be beautiful. Every man, 
 however, knows, that there is a very wide 
 distinction between Music and beautiful 
 Music. If a Composition is expressive of 
 no sentiment, a common hearer feels no 
 Beauty from it : If it is quite common, and
 
 27 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 has neither novelty nor skill in it, a Con- 
 noisseur in Music feels as little. If it has 
 neither one nor other, all the world pro- 
 nounce it bad Music. Yet such a Compo- 
 sition may be perfectly regular, may be in 
 obedience to the strictest laws of Composi- 
 tion ; and will give to every one that infe- 
 rior pleasure, which arises from a regular 
 succession of Sounds. As there is there- 
 fore a very evident distinction between that 
 mechanical pleasure which we receive from 
 mere Music, and that delight which we feel 
 from Music when Beautiful or Sublime, it 
 is obvious, that the mere, regular Composi- 
 tion of related Sounds, is not the cause of 
 the Emotions either of Sublimity or Beau- 
 ty. 
 
 2. If the beauty of Music arose from any 
 of those qualities, either of Sound, or of the 
 Composition of Sounds, which are imme- 
 diately perceivable by. the Ear, it is ob- 
 vious, that this would be expressed in Lan- 
 guage, and that the terms by which such
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WOULD. 279 
 
 Music was characterized, would be 
 ficant of some quality or qualities discerni- 
 ble by the Ear: If, on the contrary, this 
 Beauty arises from the interesting or affect- 
 ing qualities of which it is expressive to us, 
 such qualities, in the same manner, ought, 
 in common language, to be assigned as the 
 
 O O ' O 
 
 causes of this Emotion : and the terms by 
 which such Music is characterized ought to 
 
 O 
 
 be significant of such qualities. That the 
 last is the case, I think there can be no dis- 
 pute. The terms Plaintive, Tender, Cheer- 
 ful, Gay, Elevating, Solemn, c. are not 
 only constantly applied to every kind of 
 Music that is either Sublime or Beautiful ; 
 but it is in fact by such terms only that 
 men ever characterize the Compositions 
 from which they receive such Emotions. 
 If any man were asked what was it that 
 rendered such an Air so beautiful ; he 
 would immediately answer, because it was 
 Plaintive, Solemn, Cheerful, &c. but he ne- 
 ver would think of describing its peculiar
 
 280 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 nature as a Composition of Sounds. In 
 the same manner, if he were accounting to 
 any person for the Beauty or Sublimity of 
 any Composition, if he were to describe it 
 in the most accurate way possible, as having 
 particular characters of Composition, he 
 might indeed make him wonder at his 
 learning, but lie would leave him as igno- 
 rant as before, with regard to the source of 
 its Beauty. "Were he to tell him, on the 
 other hand, that it was expressive of Me- 
 lancholy, Gaiety, or Tenderness, he would 
 make him understand at once the reason 
 of his Emotion. If the Beauty or Sublimi- 
 ty of Music arose from the laws of its Com- 
 position, the very reverse of all this would 
 obviously be the case. 
 
 It is observable, in the same manner, 
 that even they who are best acquainted 
 with the principles of Composition, and 
 who are most disposed to forget .the end, 
 in attention to the rules of the science, yet 
 never think of expressing the Beauty or Su-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 281 
 
 blimity of any piece of Music-, by terms 
 significant of its nature as a Composition, 
 but by such as are significant of some plea- 
 sing or interesting Association. If they 
 forget the Expression of Music, they never 
 forget the merits of the Composer. When 
 they speak, therefore, of the Sublimity or 
 Beauty of any such Composition, if they are 
 farther questioned upon the subject, it will 
 always be found, that it is either the Learn- 
 ing, the Invention, or the Taste which it 
 displays, that they assign as the foundation 
 of their admiration, or some other quality, 
 either in the composition or performance, 
 perfectly distinct from the mere qualities 
 either of Sound or Composition. This uni- 
 versal language of mankind, is not only a 
 proof of the connection between the Beau- 
 ty and Sublimity of Music, and the Ex- 
 pressions which it conveys ; but it is im- 
 possible that this language? should ever have 
 been either employed, or understood, if the
 
 282 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Sublimity or Beauty of Music were inde- 
 pendent of such Expressions. 
 
 3. If the Beauty or Sublimity of Music 
 depended solely upon the nature of its com- 
 position, and was independent of the qua- 
 lities of which it is expressive, it would ne- 
 cessarily happen, that the same composi- 
 tions must always be beautiful or sublime, 
 which once were so ; and that in every si- 
 tuation they must produce the same Emo- 
 tion, in the same manner as every other 
 object of Sense uniformly produces its cor- 
 respondent sensation. The truth is, how- 
 ever, that no such thing takes place, and 
 that, on the contrary, Music is then only 
 beautiful or sublime, when it is accommo- 
 dated to the Emotion which it is intended 
 to express. If the Passion of Revenge, for 
 instance, were expressed by the most beau- 
 tiful composition of Sounds conceivable, 
 which either naturally, or from habit, were 
 considered as expressive of Tenderness, 
 every man, instead of being- affected with
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 283 
 
 Its beauty, would laugh at its absurdity. 
 In the same manner, if Love or Tenderness 
 were expressed by any Sounds, or compo- 
 sition of Sounds, generally appropriated to 
 the expression of Rage, or Revenge, how- 
 ever sublime they might be according to 
 their own expression, they would undoubt- 
 edly cease to be so by such an appropria- 
 tion. Instances of the same kind might 
 easily be multiplied. If we could suppose, 
 that, by a miracle, the present system of 
 Sounds in the human Voice were altogether 
 
 o 
 
 changed ; that the '.rones which now ex- 
 press Mirth, should then express Melan- 
 choly, the Sounds which now express Rage, 
 should then express Tenderness, &c. and 
 that a similar revolution should at the same 
 time take place in the expression of the 
 progress of Sounds, I think every man will 
 allow, tluit the whole system of Music must 
 of necessity be changed ; that a new Music 
 must arise, accommodated to this change 
 in the system of expressive Sounds, and
 
 284 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 that if it were not changed, instead of af- 
 fording us any Emotions of Beauty or Su- 
 blimity, it would either be unintelligible, or 
 absolutely absurd ; yet in such a case, all 
 that arises from the mere mechanical struc- 
 ture of Sounds would remain, all that is im- 
 mediately perceived by the Ear, either in 
 Sound itself, or in the composition of 
 Sound, would have undergone no revolu- 
 tion. There cannot well be a stronger 
 
 O 
 
 proof, that the Beauty or Sublimity of Mu- 
 sic arises from the qualities which it ex- 
 presses, and not from the means by which 
 they are expressed. 
 
 4. It is observable, that the beauty or Su- 
 blimity of Music is felt by those who have 
 no perception of the relation of Sounds, 
 either in point of Tune or Time, and who 
 consequently must be unconscious of any 
 pleasure that arises from the mere composi- 
 tion of Sounds. Every one who will take 
 the trouble of inquiring, will find many 
 people who have (as it is generally called)
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 285 
 
 no musical ear, who are unable to learn the 
 simplest tune, and who can scarcely distin- 
 guish one tune from another, who are yet 
 sensible to the Beauty or Sublimity of Mu- 
 sic, and who feel delight from different kinds 
 of Composition. The want of a musical 
 ear is not uncommon ; but I believe there 
 is no instance of any person who is insen- 
 sible either to the Expression of different 
 Tones in the human Voice, or who is not 
 differently affected by the different progress 
 of Sounds, In such cases, although Music 
 has not the same extent of Expression to 
 them, that it has to those who are born with 
 a good ear, yet still it has some Expression; 
 and the proof of it is, that although they 
 cannot tell whether any note is just or not, 
 or whether the time of any composition 
 is perfectly preserved, they can still tell 
 whether a song is gay or plaintive, whether 
 fitted to inspire mirth or melancholy. They 
 have therefore that degree of delight from 
 it, which the scenes of Nature usually in-
 
 285 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 spire, where a general but indistinct rela- 
 tion is observed to some interesting or af- 
 fecting qualities, and where, in consequence 
 of this relation, such scenes naturally tend 
 to excite or to encourage a correspondent 
 Emotion ; but they are insensible to that 
 greater delight, which, as has already been 
 shown, every man of a good Ear feels, both 
 from the variety of this Expression, and 
 from the continued and increasing interest 
 which it awakens. If the Sublimity or 
 Beauty of Music arose from the discern- 
 ment of such relations as constitute the laws 
 of composition, it is obvious, that they who 
 are incapable of discerning such relations, 
 would be incapable, at the same time, of 
 discovering either its Sublimity or Beauty. 
 
 In the preceding observations, I have 
 considered only the permanent Associations 
 we have with musical Composition, or the 
 Expressions which are everywhere felt both 
 in the Tone and the Time of such successions 
 of Sound, from their analogy to the character 
 
 10
 
 OP THE MATERIAL WORLD. 28? 
 
 and progress of Sound in the human voice. 
 With Music, however, we have often many 
 accidental Associations, both individual and 
 national ; and the influence of such As- 
 sociations upon our opinions of the 'Beau- 
 ty or Sublimity of Music might be shown 
 from many considerations. On the one 
 hand, from the dependence of the Beaulv 
 of Music upon the temporary or habitual 
 dispositions of our minds, from the dif- 
 ferent effect which is produced by the same 
 Composition, according to the Associations 
 we happen to connect with it, and from 
 the tendency which all national Music has 
 to render those who are accustomed to it 
 insensible to the beauty of any foreign Mu- 
 sic, from their association of particular senti- 
 ments with peculiar characters or modes of 
 Composition: And, on the oilier hand, from 
 the influence of individual or national As- 
 sociations, in increasing the Sublimity or 
 Beauty of Music, both by increasing its 
 natural Expressions, and by rendering these
 
 288 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Expressions more definite and precise. I 
 am unwilling, however, to swell these very 
 imperfect remarks, by illustrations which 
 every one can so easily prosecute for himself. 
 From the whole, I am induced to con- 
 clude, that Music is productive to us of two 
 distinct and separate Pleasures : 
 
 1. Of that mechanical Pleasure, which by 
 the constitution of our nature accompanies 
 the perception of a regular succession of re- 
 lated Sounds. 
 
 2. Of that Pleasure which such composi- 
 tions of Sound may produce, either by the 
 Expression of some pathetic or interesting 
 Affection, or by being the Sign of some 
 pleasing or valuable Quality, either in the 
 Composition or the Performance. 
 
 That it is to this last Source the Beauty 
 or Sublimity of Music is to be ascribed, or 
 that it is Beautiful or Sublime only when 
 it is expressive of some pleasing or interest- 
 ing Quality, I hope is evident from the 
 preceding observations.
 
 THE MATERIAL WORLD. 289 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the Objects of Sight. 
 
 THE greatest part of the external objects, 
 in which we discover Sublimity or Beauty, 
 are such as are perceived by the Sense of 
 Sight. It has even been imagined by some 
 Philosophers, that it is to such objects only 
 that the name of Beauty is properly applied, 
 and that it is only from analogy that the same 
 term is applied to the objects of our other 
 Senses. This opinion however, seems at 
 first sight ill-founded. The terms Beauty and 
 Sublimity are applied by all men to Sounds, 
 and even sometimes to Smells. In our own 
 experience, we very often find, that the same 
 Emotion is produced by Sounds, which is 
 produced by Forms or Colours ; and the 
 nature of language sufficiently shows, that 
 VOL. i. T
 
 290 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 this is conformable also to general experi- 
 ence. There seems no reason therefore for 
 limiting the objects of Sublimity or Beauty 
 to the sole class of visible objects. 
 
 It must, however, be acknowledged, that 
 by far the greatest number of these objects 
 are such as we discover by means of this 
 Sense ; nor does it seem difficult to assign 
 the reason of this superiority. By the rest 
 of our senses, we discover only single quali- 
 ties of objects ; but by the Sense of Seeing, 
 we discover all that assemblage of qualities 
 which constitute, in our imaginations, the 
 peculiar nature of such objects. By our 
 other senses, we discover, in general, such 
 qualities, only when the bodies are in con- 
 tact with us ; but the Sense of Sight affords 
 us a very wide field of observation, and en- 
 ables us to make them the objects of atten- 
 tion, when they are at very considerable 
 distances from ourselves. It is natural, 
 therefore, that the greater power of this 
 Sense should dispose us to greater confi-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 2.91 
 
 deuce in it, and that the qualities of bodies 
 which we discover by means of it, should 
 more powerfully impress themselves upon 
 our imagination and memory, than those 
 single qualities which we discover by the 
 means of our other Senses. The visible 
 qualities of objects, accordingly, become to 
 us not only the distinguishing characteristics 
 of external bodies, but they become also in 
 a great measure the Signs of all their other 
 qualities ; and by recalling to our minds the 
 qualities signified, affect us in some degree 
 with the same Emotion which the objects 
 themselves can excite. Not only the smell 
 of the Rose, or the Violet, is expressed to 
 us by their Colours and Forms ; but the 
 utility of a Machine, the elegance of a De- 
 sign, the proportion of a Column, the speed 
 of the Horse, the ferocity of the Lion, even 
 all the qualities of the human mind are na- 
 turally expressed to us by certain visible 
 appearances; because our experience has 
 taught us, that such qualities are connected
 
 292 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 with such appearances, and the presence of 
 the one immediately suggests to us the idea 
 of the other. Such visible qualities, there- 
 fore, are gradually considered as the Signs of 
 other qualities, and are productive to us of 
 the same Emotions with the qualities they 
 signify. 
 
 But, besides this, it is also to be observ- 
 ed, that by this sense, we not only discover 
 the nature of individual objects, and there- 
 fore naturally associate their qualities with 
 their visible appearance ; but that by it al- 
 so we discover the relation of objects to 
 each other ; and that hence a great variety 
 of objects in nature become expressive of 
 qualities which do not immediately belong 
 to themselves, but to the objects with which 
 we have found them connected. Thus, for 
 instance, it is by this sense we discover that 
 the Eao-le inhabits amoni>; Rocks and Moun- 
 
 o o 
 
 tains ; that the Red-breast leaves the Woods 
 in Winter, to seek shelter and food among 
 the dwellings of Men ; that the song of the
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 293 
 
 Nightingale is peculiar to the Evening and 
 the Night, &c. In- consequence of this per- 
 manent connection, these animals acquire a 
 character from the scenes they inhabit, or 
 the seasons in which they appear, and are 
 expressive to us in some measure of the 
 character of these seasons and scenes. It 
 is hence that so many objects become ex- 
 pressive, which perhaps in themselves would 
 never have been so ; that the Curfew is so 
 solemn from accompanying the close of 
 day, the twitter of the Swallow so cheerful, 
 from its being heard in the Morning, the 
 bleating of Sheep, the call of the Goat, the 
 lowing of Kine, so beautiful from their oc- 
 curring in pastoral or romantic Situations ; 
 in short, that the greatest number of natur- 
 
 o 
 
 al objects acquire their expression from 
 their connection with particular or affecting 
 scenes. 
 
 As, in this way, the visible qualities of 
 objects become expressive to us of all the 
 qualities which they possess ; and besides,
 
 294 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 in so many cases receive expression from 
 their connection with other objects, it is ex- 
 tremely natural, that such qualities should 
 form the greatest and most numerous class 
 of the objects of Material Beauty. 
 
 I proceed to a more particular investiga- 
 tion of the Sublimity and Beauty of some 
 of the most remarkable Classes of these 
 Qualities.
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 x 
 
 Of the Beauty of Colours. 
 
 THE greatest part of Colours are con- 
 nected with a kind of established Imagery in 
 our Minds, and are considered as expressive 
 of many very pleasing and affecting Quali- 
 ties. 
 
 These Associations may perhaps be in- 
 cluded in the following Enumeration : 1st, 
 Such as arise from the nature of the objects 
 thus permanently coloured. Zdly, Such as 
 arise from some analogy between certain 
 Colours, and certain Dispositions of Mind ; 
 and, 3dli/, Such as arise from accidental 
 connections, whether national or particular. 
 
 1. When we have been accustomed to see 
 any object capable of exciting Emotion, dis- 
 tinguished by some fixed or permanent Co- 
 lour, we arc apt to extend to the Colour the
 
 296 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Qualities of the object thus coloured ; and 
 to feel from it, when separated, some de- 
 gree of the same Emotion which is proper- 
 ly excited by the object itself. Instances 
 of this kind are within every person's ob- 
 servation. White, as it is the colour of 
 Day, is expressive to us of the Cheerfulness 
 or Gaiety which the return of Day brings. 
 Black, as the colour of Darkness, is expres- 
 sive of Gloom and Melancholy. The Co- 
 lour of the Heavens, in serene Weather, is 
 Blue : Blue therefore is expressive to us of 
 somewhat of the same pleasing and temper- 
 ate character. Green is the colour of the 
 Earth in Spring : It is consequently ex- 
 pressive to us of some of those delightful 
 images which we associate with that Sea- 
 son. The colours of Vegetables and Mi- 
 nerals acquire, in the same manner, a kind 
 of character from the character of the 
 species which they distinguish. The ex- 
 pression of those colours, which are the 
 signs of particular passions in the human
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 Countenance, and which, from this connec- 
 tion, derive their effect, every one is ac- 
 quainted with. 
 
 2. There are many Colours which derive 
 expression from some analogy we discover 
 between them and certain affections of the 
 human Mind. Soft or Strong, Mild or 
 Bold, Gay or Gloomy, Cheerful or Solemn, 
 c. are terms in all Languages applied to 
 Colours ; terms obviously metaphorical, and 
 the use of which indicates their connection 
 with particular qualities of Mind. In the 
 same manner, different degrees or shades of 
 the same Colour have similar characters, as 
 Strong, or Temperate, or Gentle, Sec. In 
 consequence of ttiis Association, which is in 
 truth so strong, that it is to be found among 
 all Mankind, such Colours derive a character 
 from this resemblance, and produce in our 
 Minds some faint degree of the same Emo- 
 tion, which the qualities they express are 
 fitted to produce. 
 
 3. Many Colours acquire character from
 
 298 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 accidental Association. Purple, for in- 
 stance, has acquired a character of Dig- 
 nity, from its accidental connection with 
 the Dress of Kings. The colours of Er- 
 mine have a similar character from the 
 same cause. The colours in every country 
 which distinguish the dress of Magistrates, 
 Judges, &c. acquire dignity in the same 
 manner. Scarlet, in this country, as the 
 Colour which distinguishes the dress of the 
 Army, has, in some measure, a character 
 correspondent to its employment ; and it 
 was perhaps this Association (though un- 
 known to himself), that induced the blind 
 man, mentioned by Mr Locke, to liken his 
 notion of Scarlet to the Sound of a Trum* 
 pet. Every person will, in the same man- 
 ner, probably recollect particular Colours 
 which are pleasing to him, from their hav- 
 ing been worn by People whom he loved, 
 or from some other accidental Association. 
 In these several ways, Colours become 
 significant to us of many interesting or af-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 299 
 
 fecting Qualities, and excite in us some de- 
 gree of the Emotions which such qualities in 
 themselves are fitted to produce. Whether 
 some Colours may not of themselves pro- 
 duce agreeable Sensations, and others disa- 
 greeable Sensations, I am not anxious to 
 dispute : but wherever Colours are felt as 
 producing the Emotion of Beauty, that it 
 is by means of their Expression, and not 
 from any original fitness in the Colours 
 themselves to produce this effect, may per- 
 haps be obvious from the following consi- 
 derations : 
 
 1. The different sentiments of Mankind, 
 with regard to the Beauty of Colours, are 
 inconsistent with the opinion that such 
 qualities are beautiful in themselves. It is 
 impossible to infer, because any particular 
 Colour is beautiful in one country, that it 
 will also be beautiful in another : and there 
 are in fact many instances where the same 
 Colour produces very different opinions of 
 Beauty in different races of Men. Black,
 
 300 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 to us is in general an unpleasant Colour. 
 In Spain and in Venice, it is otherwise. 
 Yellow, is to us, at least in dress, a disa- 
 greeable Colour. In China, it is the fa- 
 vourite Colour. White, is to us extremely 
 Beautiful. In China, on the contrary, it is 
 extremely disagreeable. Instances of the 
 same kind must have occurred to every 
 person. 
 
 If we inquire, on the other hand, what is 
 the reason of this difference of opinion, we 
 shall uniformly find, that it arises from the 
 different Associations which these different 
 people have with such Colours ; and that 
 their opinion of their Beauty is permanent- 
 ly regulated by the nature of the Qualities 
 of which they are expressive. Black is to 
 us an unpleasant Colour, because it is the 
 Colour appropriated to Mourning. In Ve- 
 nice and Spain, it is the Colour which dis- 
 tinguishes the dress of the Great. Yellow, 
 is in China, the imperial Colour, and sacred 
 to the Emperor and his property : it is
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WOULD. ,001 
 
 therefore associated with ideas of Magnifi- 
 cence and Royalty. Among us it has no 
 distinct Association, and is therefore beauti- 
 ful or otherwise, only according to its de- 
 gree or shade. White is beautiful to us in 
 a supreme degree, as emblematical both of 
 Innocence and Cheerfulness. In China, 
 on the other hand, it is the Colour appro- 
 priated to Mourning, and consequently, 
 very far from being generally beautiful. 
 In the same manner, wherever any peculiar 
 Colours are permanently favourite, there 
 will always be found some pleasing Associ- 
 ation which the People have with that Co- 
 lour, and of which they, in some measure, 
 consider it as significant. 
 
 2. It is farther observable, that no Co- 
 lours, in fact, are beautiful, but such as are 
 expressive to us of pleasing or interesting 
 Qualities. All Colours obviously are not 
 beautiful : the same Colours are beautiful 
 only when they are expressive of such 
 qualites ; and, in general, I believe it will
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 be found, that among all the variety of Co- 
 lours we are acquainted with, those only 
 are beautiful which have similar expressions. 
 The common Colours, for instance, of 
 many indifferent things which surround us, 
 of the Earth, of Stone, of Wood, &c. have 
 no kind of Beauty, and are never mention- 
 ed as such. The things themselves are so 
 indifferent to us, that they excite no kind 
 of Emotion, and of consequence, their Co- 
 lours produce no greater Emotion, as the 
 signs of such qualities, than the qualities 
 themselves. The Colours, in the same man- 
 ner, which distinguish the ordinary dress of 
 the common People, are never considered 
 as Beautiful. It is the Colours only of the 
 .Dress of the Great, of the Opulent, or of 
 distinguished professions, which are ever 
 considered in this light. The Colours of 
 common furniture, in the same waj', are 
 never beautiful : it is the Colours only of 
 fashionable, or costly, or magnificent Fur- 
 niture, which are ever considered as such. 
 
 6
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 It is observable, farther, that even the 
 most beautiful Colours (or those which arc 
 expressive to us of the most pleasing Asso- 
 ciations), cease to appear beautiful when- 
 ever they are familiar, or when the objects 
 which they distinguish have ceased to pro- 
 duce their usual Emotions. The Blush of 
 the Rose, the Blue of a serene Sky, the 
 Green of the Spring, are Beautiful only 
 when they are new, or unfamiliar. In a 
 short time we observe them with the same 
 indifference, that we do the most common 
 and unnoticed Colours. That, in the same 
 manner, our perception of their Beauty, 
 depends on the state of our own Minds, 
 and that it is only in seasons of sensibility 
 that we are conscious of it, is a fact which 
 every Man knows so well from his own ex- 
 perience, that it would be needless to illus- 
 trate it. 
 
 It may be observed, also, that no new co- 
 lour is ever beautiful, until we have acquired 
 some pleasing association with it. This is
 
 304 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 peculiarly observable in the Article of 
 Dress ; and indeed it is the best instance 
 of it, because in such cases, no other cir- 
 cumstance intervenes by which the experi- 
 ment can be influenced. Every man must 
 have observed, that, in the great variety of 
 new colours which the caprice of Fashion 
 is perpetually introducing, no new colour 
 appears at first as beautiful. We feel, on 
 the contrary, a kind of disappointment, 
 when we see such a colour in the dress of 
 those who regulate the Fashions, instead of 
 that which used to distinguish them ; and 
 even although the colour should be such, 
 as in other subjects we consider as beauti- 
 ful, our disappointment still overbalances 
 the pleasure it might give. A few weeks, 
 even a few days alter our opinion ; as soon 
 as it is generally adopted by those who 
 lead the public Taste, and has become of 
 consequence the mark of Rank and Ele- 
 gance, it immediately becomes beautiful. 
 This, it is observable, is not peculiar to GO-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 305 
 
 lours that in themselves may be agreeable ; 
 for it often happens, that the caprice of 
 Fashion leads us to admire colours that are 
 disagreeable, and that not only in themselves, 
 but also from the Associations with which 
 they are connected. A plain man would 
 scarcely believe, that the Colours of a glass 
 Bottle, of a dead Leaf, of Clay, &c. could 
 ever be beautiful ; yet within these few 
 years, not only these, but some much more 
 unpleasant colours that might be mention- 
 ed, have been fashionable and admired. 
 A s soon, however, as the Fashion changes, 
 as soon as they whose Rank or Accom- 
 plishments give this fictitious value to the 
 Colours they wear think proper to desert 
 them, so soon the Beauty of the Colour is 
 at an end. A new Colour succeeds ; a new 
 disappointment attends its first appearance ; 
 its beauty is gradually acknowledged ; and 
 the Colour which was formerly the favour- 
 ite, sinks into neglect and contempt. If 
 the faculty by which the Beauty of Colours 
 VOL. i. TJ
 
 306 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 is perceived, had any analogy to a Sense, 
 it is obvious that such variations in our opi- 
 nion of their Beauty could not take place. 
 
 3. When the particular Associations we 
 have with such Colours are destroyed, their 
 Beauty is destroyed at the same time. 
 
 The different machines, instruments, &c. 
 which minister to the convenience of Life, 
 have in general, from the materials of which 
 they are composed, or from the uses to 
 which they are applied, a fixed and deter- 
 minate Colour. This Colour becomes ac- 
 cordingly in some degree beautiful, from 
 its being the Sign of such qualities ; and 
 although this effect is, in a great measure, 
 lost from the frequency of observation, it 
 is still observable upon many occasions. 
 Change the accustomed Colour of such ob- 
 
 O 
 
 jecta, and every man feels a kind of disap- 
 pointment. This is so strong, that even if 
 a Colour more generally beautiful is substi'- 
 tuted, yet still our dissatisfaction is the 
 same, and. the new colour, instead of being
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 30?' 
 
 beautiful, becomes the reverse. Rose-co- 
 lour, for instance, is a more beautiful Co- 
 lour than that of Mahogany ; yet if any 
 man were to paint his doors and windows 
 with Rose-colour, he would certainly not 
 add to their Beauty. The Colour of a 
 polished steel grate is agreeable, but is not 
 in itself very beautiful. Suppose it painted 
 green, or violet, or crimson, all of them co- 
 lours much more beautiful, and the beauty 
 of it is altogether destroyed. The Colours 
 of Cedar, of Mahogany, of Satin-wood,- 
 are not nearly so beautiful as many other 
 Colours that may be mentioned. There is 
 no Colour, however, with which such woods 
 can be painted, that would be so beautiful 
 as the Colours of the woods themselves; 
 because they are very valuable, and the 
 Colours are in some measure significant to 
 us of this value. Instances of this kind are 
 innumerable. 
 
 There are different professions in every 
 country, which are distinguished by dif-
 
 308 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 ferent coloured dresses. Whatever may 
 have led to this Appropriation, and however 
 fanciful and extravagant it may sometimes 
 be, after it is established, there is felt a kind 
 of propriety in the dress ; and it is strongly 
 associated in our minds with the qualities 
 which such professions seem to indicate. 
 We are in some measure disappointed, 
 therefore, when we see a professional man 
 not in the dress of his profession; and when 
 he is in this dress, we conceive that there is 
 a propriety and Beauty in such a Colour. 
 Change the Colours of these several dresses, 
 and all this species of Beauty is destroyed. 
 We should not only laugh at the supposition 
 of the Army and Navy being dressed in 
 black, and the Church and the Bar in scar- 
 let; but we should feel also- a discontent, 
 as if these Colours had in themselves a sepa- 
 rate Expression, and were in these cases 
 misapplied. Even in reversing the dress 
 of individuals of these different professions, 
 the whole Beauty of their dress is destroy-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 ed; and we are conscious of a feeling of 
 impropriety, as if the qualities which are 
 peculiar to such professions were necessarily 
 connected with the dress they wear. So 
 strong is this association even in trifles, and 
 so naturally do Colours become expressive 
 to us of the qualities with which we have 
 found them generally connected. 
 
 In natural objects the same circumstance 
 is very apparent. There are Colours per- 
 haps more generally beautiful than those 
 which distinguish Trees, or Rocks, or Wa- 
 ters, or Cottages, or Ruins, or any of the 
 ordinary ingredients of rural scenery ; yet 
 no Colours, but the natural, could possibly 
 be beautiful, in the imitation of such scenes; 
 because no other Colours could be expressive 
 to us of those qualities which are the sources 
 of our Emotion from such objects in Nature. 
 That all the Beauty, in the same manner, 
 of Plants or Animals, would be destroyed, 
 if any new Colours, however generally beau- 
 tiful, were substituted in the place of those
 
 310 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 by which Nature has distinguished their 
 different classes, and which are of conse- 
 quence associated in our minds with all the 
 qualities which they possess, is so obvious, 
 that it is altogether unnecessary to attempt 
 the illustration of it. That this principle 
 applies also to the Colours of Dress, and 
 that the same Colour is beautiful or not, 
 as the Expression which it has is suited to 
 the character or situation of the person who 
 wears it, every person may satisfy himself 
 by a little attention. As thus there is no 
 Colour whatever, which in all situations is 
 beautiful, and as, on the contrary, the Beau- 
 ty of every Colour is destroyed, whenever 
 the associations we have with it are dissolv- 
 ed, it seems reasonable to conclude, that 
 the beauty of such qualities arises from their 
 Expression, and not from any original fitness 
 in them to produce this Emotion. 
 
 4. If the Beauty of Colours arose from 
 any original fitness in them to produce this 
 Emotion j it is apparent, that they who are
 
 OP THE MATERIAL WOitLD. 311 
 
 incapable of such Perceptions, must be in- 
 capable of such Emotion. That the blind, 
 however, may receive the same delight, from 
 the ideas which they associate with Colours, 
 that they do who see, is a fact which I 
 think every one will be convinced of, who 
 reads the poems of Dr Blacklock. No man 
 who is not acquainted with the history of 
 their- ingenious Author, could perceive that 
 he had the misfortune to lose his sight in 
 early infancy. That from conversation, 
 and from the perusal of books of poetry, it 
 was possible for him to learn the distinguish- 
 ing colours of certain objects, and to apply 
 them with sufficient propriety in his own 
 verses, I do not deny ; but the circumstance 
 of importance at present is this, that his 
 poetry is full of the same sentiments, and 
 expresses the same admiration with regard 
 to the different visible qualities of matter, 
 with that of Poets who have had no such 
 defect ; and that the same power is ascribed 
 fco them in producing the EinoUons of Jkan-
 
 312 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 ty, and with as great accuracy with regard 
 to particular instances, as in the composi- 
 tions of those who have had the Sense of 
 Sight in its fullest perfection. If our per- 
 ception of the Beauty of Colours arose from 
 some original fitness in such qualities to pro- 
 duce this Emotion, it is obvious, that the 
 blind must be as incapable of perceiving 
 this beauty, as of perceiving the Colours 
 themselves; but if the Beauty of Colours 
 arises from the associations we connect with 
 them, this fact, in the case of Dr Blacklock, 
 admits of a very simple solution. From 
 reading, and from conversation, he has ac- 
 quired the same associations with the Words 
 that express such Colours, as we have with 
 the Colours themselves ; that the word 
 White, for instance, signifies a quality in 
 objects expressive of Cheerfulness and In- 
 nocence, the word Purple, the quality of 
 Majesty, the word Black, the quality of 
 Gloom and Melancholy, &c. In this case, 
 it is obvious, that he may feel the same
 
 OP THE MATERIAL WORLD. 313 
 
 Emotions from the use of these words, that 
 we do from the Colours which they express ; 
 and that from the permanence of these as- 
 sociations in a great variety of cases, lie 
 may apply the terms with sufficient pro- 
 priety, either in sublime or beautiful de- 
 scription. As this is in reality the case, it 
 seems to be a very strong confirmation of 
 the opinion, that the Beauty of such quali- 
 ties arises from the associations we connect 
 with them, and not from any original or in- 
 dependent Beauty in the Colours them- 
 selves.
 
 314 SUBLIMITY 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Of Forms. 
 
 OF all material Qualities, that which is 
 most generally, and most naturally produc- 
 tive of the Emotions of Sublimity and Beau- 
 ty, is Form. Other qualities may be sepa- 
 rated from most objects, without destroying 
 their nature ; but the Form of every mate- 
 rial object, in a great measure, constitutes its 
 nature and essence, and cannot be destroy- 
 
 / 
 
 ed, without destroying the individual sub- 
 ject to which it belongs. From whatever 
 cause, therefore, the Beauty of any mate- 
 rial object proceeds, it is natural to ascribe it 
 to the Form, or to that quality which most 
 intimately belongs to the object, and consti- 
 tutes its essence to our senses. The com- 
 mon opinion, therefore, undoubtedly is>
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 315 
 
 that Forms in themselves are beautiful ; 
 that there is an original and essential Beau- 
 ty in some particular Forms ; and that this 
 quality is as immediately discernible, in 
 them, as the Forms themselves. 
 
 Philosophers, however, have not been satis- 
 fied with this common opinion. The sup- 
 position of such an original and independ- 
 ent Beauty in Forms, has been found in- 
 consistent with many phenomena, and some 
 more general principle was wanted, under 
 which the different facts upon this subject 
 might be tolerably arranged. Many Theo- 
 ries accordingly have been formed to ac- 
 count for this species of Beauty. Some 
 have resolved it into a sense of Proportion, 
 and endeavoured to establish, by analogy 
 from our other senses, certain proportions 
 which are immediately and permanently 
 beautiful. Others have accounted for this 
 Beauty from the union of Uniformity and 
 Variety. Some have supposed it to 
 arise from the consideration of Utility..
 
 316 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Others have asserted, that the Beauty of 
 Forms arises from their Commonness, and 
 that the beautiful Form is that which is 
 most generally met with in objects of the 
 same kind. Mr Hogarth, in opposition to 
 all, considers the beautiful Form, as being 
 described by lines of a particular kind, and 
 has produced a great variety of instances in 
 support of his opinion. 
 
 It is not my design at present, to enter 
 into any examination of these several opi- 
 nions. In all of them, I believe, there is 
 something true to a certain extent, though 
 
 O J O 
 
 I believe also, that they have arisen from a 
 partial view of the subject, and are inade- 
 quate to account for the greater number of 
 the phenomena. 
 
 I may be allowed, however, to observe, 
 that of the two, the common opinion is by 
 much the most defensible. To reduce the 
 great variety of instances of Beauty in 
 Forms to any single principle, seems at first 
 sight altogether impossible ; not only froio
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 31? 
 
 this variety, but also, in innumerable cases, 
 from the contrary nature of the Forms, 
 which, in fact, are Beautiful. As no Theo- 
 ry, besides, can possibly be maintained 
 without some foundation in Nature, the 
 number of Theories which have been pro- 
 duced upon this subject, are, in themselves 
 an evidence, that this Beauty arises from 
 more causes than any one of these Theories 
 comprehends. 
 
 The principle which I have endeavoured 
 to illustrate, with regard to the Beauty and 
 Sublimity of Sounds and Colours, will, per- 
 haps, be found to be equally applicable to 
 the Beauty or Sublimity of Forms : and, as 
 far as I can judge, is free from the objec- 
 tions which may be stated both to the com- 
 mon and the philosophical opinions. In 
 the observations which follow, I shall there- 
 fore endeavour to shew, That the Sublimity 
 or Beauty of Forms arises altogether from 
 the Associations we connect with them, or 
 the Qualities of which they are expressive
 
 518 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY 
 
 to us ; and I shall endeavour to explain^ 
 with as much accuracy as I am able, the 
 different Expressions of which Forms are 
 susceptible, and which are the Foundation 
 of that Sublimity and Beauty which we as- 
 cribe to them. The importance of the sub- 
 ject, will, I hope, be my excuse for the 
 length, and perhaps for the tediousness of 
 some of these illustrations. 
 
 Forms are naturally divisible into two 
 kinds, into animated and inanimate Forms. 
 It is the latter of these only which I propose 
 at present to consider ; as it is obviously 
 necessary first to consider the source of the 
 Beauty of which Form itself is capable, be- 
 fore we can properly ascertain that superior 
 Beauty which arises from Animation. 
 
 With regard to inanimate Forms, the 
 principal expressions which they have to us, 
 seem to me to be, 1st, The expressions of 
 such qualities as arise from the nature of 
 the bodies distinguished by such Fonns ; 
 and, 2dly, The expressions of such qualities 
 
 10
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 319 
 
 as arise from their being the subject or pro- 
 duction of Art. The first of these consti- 
 tutes what may be called their NATURAL 
 Beauty ; the second, w r hat may be called 
 their RELATIVE Beauty. There is also 
 another source of expression in such qua- 
 lities from accidental Association, and 
 which perhaps may be termed their ACCI- 
 DENTAL Beauty. 
 
 Upon each of these sources of the Beau- 
 ty of Forms, I shall offer some observations.
 
 320 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of the Natural Sublimity and Beauty of 
 Forms. 
 
 PART 
 
 Of the Sublimity of Forms. 
 THE Sublimity of inanimate Forms seems 
 to arise chiefly from two sources ; 1st, From 
 the nature of the objects distinguished by 
 that Form ; and, 2dly, From the quantity or 
 magnitude of the Form itself. There are 
 other circumstances in the nature of 
 Forms, which may extend or increase this 
 character; but I apprehend, that the two 
 now mentioned, are the only ones which of 
 themselves constitute Sublimity. Both of 
 them, I believe, are productive of this ef- 
 fect, by being expressive to us of qualities 
 capable of exciting very strong Emotions.
 
 O THE MATERIAL WORLD. 321 
 I. 
 
 1. The Forms which distinguish bodies 
 that are connected in our minds with ideas 
 of Danger or Power, are in general Su- 
 blime. There is scarcely any thing in in- 
 animate Nature more remarkably so, than 
 all those Forms which are appropriated to 
 the instruments of War. The Forms of 
 Cannon, Mortars, Sec. have all a character 
 of this kind. Military Ensigns, although 
 approaching to very common and neglect- 
 ed Forms, partake of the same character. 
 There are few things more Sublime than the 
 Forms of Armour, particularly the steel 
 Armour which was in use in the middle 
 ages. Even the familiarity of common use 
 docs not altogether destroy this effect : the 
 Sword, the Spear, the Javelin, the Dagger, 
 are still sublime Forms, and enter with pro- 
 priety into the sublimes t descriptions either 
 of Poetry or Painting. 
 
 2. The Forms that in general distinguish 
 
 O ^ 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 bodies of great duration, and which of con- 
 sequence express to us great Power or 
 Strength, are in most cases Sublime. In 
 the Vegetable Kingdom, the Forms of 
 Trees are Sublime, principally in proportion 
 to their expression of this quality. No- 
 thing is more Sublime than the Form of 
 Rocks, which seem to be coeval with Crea- 
 tion, and which all the convulsions of Na- 
 ture have not been able to destroy. The 
 Sublimest of all the Mechanical Arts is Ar- 
 chitecture, principally from the durableness 
 of its productions ; and these productions 
 are in themselves Sublime, in proportion to 
 their Antiquity, or the extent of their Du- 
 ration. The Gothic Castle is still more 
 Sublime than all, because, besides the deso- 
 lation of Time, it seems also to have with- 
 stood the assaults of War. 
 
 3. The Forms which distinguish bodies 
 that are connected in our Minds with ideas 
 of Splendour or Magnificence, are in general 
 
 sublime. The Forms of the Throne, the 
 
 10
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 Sceptre, and the Diadem, approach, in 
 fact, to very common and very neglected 
 Forms, yet they are all sublime, from being 
 the signs of the Splendour and Magnificence 
 of Royalty. The triumphal Car, and the 
 triumphal Arch, are sublime Forms, from 
 similar Associations. 
 
 4. The Forms, in the same manner, 
 which distinguish bodies connected in our 
 Minds with ideas of Awe or Solemnity, are 
 in general sublime. The Forms of Temples, 
 although very different as Forms, have in 
 all ages been accounted as sublime. Even 
 the most common Forms employed in reli- 
 gious service, derive a character of this kind 
 from the qualities with which they are con- 
 nected. The Thunderbolt of Jupiter, the 
 Trident of Neptune, &c. seem to have been 
 considered by the Ancients as sublime 
 Forms, although in themselves they are in- 
 significant. The Forms of all those things, 
 in the same manner, which are employed 
 in the burial of the Dead, are strikingly
 
 524 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 sublime. The Pall, the Hearse, the Robes 
 of Mourners, c. even the Plumes, which 
 in general are so beautiful, and the Colour 
 of which is in most cases so cheerful, are, 
 in this situation, above all other things, 
 powerfully Sublime. 
 
 That these, and probably other Associa- 
 tions of a similar kind, have an effect in be- 
 stowing Sublimity upon the Forms which 
 generally distinguish such bodies, every per- 
 son, I think, will be satisfied, both from his 
 own experience, and from conversation. 
 That the Sublimity of such Forms arises 
 from the qualities which they express, and 
 not from an original fitness in any peculiar 
 Form to produce this Emotion, is so appa- 
 rent from the single consideration of the 
 great variety of Forms that are sublime, 
 that I will not fatigue the reader by any 
 farther illustration of it, 
 
 II. 
 
 The Sublimity of Forms, in many cases
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 325 
 
 also, arises from their Magnitude ; and this 
 Quality alone is often sufficient to bestow 
 Sublimity. With Magnitude, accordingly, 
 we have many distinct and powerful Asso- 
 ciations. 
 
 In animal Forms, Magnitude is strongly 
 associated in our Minds with the idea of 
 proportionable Power or Strength, and is 
 chiefly sublime from its expression of this 
 Quality. Animals of great size, but feeble 
 or harmless, are so far from being sublime, 
 that they are in general contemptible; a 
 fact which may easily be observed even in 
 the opinions of Children. 
 
 In inanimate Forms, Magnitude seems to 
 have different expressions to us, according 
 to its different appearance or description. 
 
 Magnitude in Height, is expressive to 
 us of Elevation, and Magnanimity. The 
 source of this Association is so obvious, 
 and the Association itself so natural, that 
 such qualites of mind have, in all ages, been 
 expressed by these Images, and such Mag-
 
 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 nitudes described by terms drawn from 
 these qualites of Mind. 
 
 Magnitude in depth is expressive to us 
 of Danger or Terror, and from our constant 
 experience, of images of Horror. In all 
 countries, the popular Hell is considered as 
 an unfathomable abyss, into which the souls 
 of the wicked are plunged. 
 
 Magnitude in Length, is expressive to us 
 of Vastness, and when apparently unbound- 
 ed, of Infinity ; that being naturally imagin- 
 ed to be without end, to which we can dis- 
 cern none. It is impossible to see a vast 
 plain, and above all, the ocean, without 
 this impression. In spite of the knowledge 
 we have of the immense space between us 
 and the fixed stars, and of the comparative- 
 ly trifling distance between any two points 
 in this globe, yet the former is not nearly 
 so sublime as the view of the ocean without 
 shore, or even of a great plain without 
 bounds. 
 
 Magnitude in Breadth, is expressive to
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 us of Stability, of Duration, of Superiority 
 to Destruction. Towers, Forts, Castles, c. 
 are sublime in consequence of this associa- 
 tion, though very often they have no other 
 considerable magnitude. The pyramids of 
 Egypt are strikingly sublime in point of 
 form, from this Expression, as well as from 
 the real knowledge we have of their dura- 
 tion. We are so accustomed to judge of 
 the stability of every thing by the propor- 
 tion of its base, that terms borrowed from 
 this material quality, are in every language 
 appropriated to the expression of some of 
 the sublimest conceptions we can form ; to 
 the stability of Nations, of Empires, of the 
 Laws of Nature, of the future hopes of 
 good men. 
 
 For the reality of these Associations, I 
 might appeal to every man's own experi- 
 ence, as well as to the common language 
 of mankind. That it is from such Expres- 
 sions, or from being the sign of such quali- 
 ties that Magnitude is sublime, and not
 
 328 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY 
 
 from any original fitness in the quality it- 
 self to produce this Emotion, seems to be 
 obvious from the following considerations : 
 1st, That there is no determinate Magni- 
 tude, which is solely or peculiarly sublime, 
 as would necessarily be the case, were 
 Magnitude itself the cause of this Emotion. 
 2d/?/, That the same visible Magnitude 
 which is sublime in one subject, is often 
 very far from being sublime in another, and 
 'vice versa ; and, 3dly, That Magnitude, ac- 
 cording to its different appearances, has 
 different characters of Sublimity corres- 
 ponding to the different Expressions which 
 such appearances have ; whereas if it were 
 in itself sublime, independently of all Ex- 
 pression, it would in all cases have the 
 same degree, and the same character of 
 Sublimity.
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WOULD. 32.9 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Of the Natural Beauty of Forms. 
 THE most obvious definition of FORM, is 
 that of Matter, bounded or circumscribed 
 by Lines. As no straight line, however, 
 can include Matter, it follows, that the only 
 Lines which can constitute Form, must be 
 either, 1st, Angular Lines, or, 2d/?/, Curved 
 or winding Lines. Every Form whatever 
 must be composed either by one or other 
 of these Lines, or bv the Union of them. 
 
 * / 
 
 When Forms are composed by one of 
 these lines solely, they may be termed SIM- 
 PLE Forms. When they are composed by 
 the Union of them, they may be termed 
 COMPLEX Forms. 
 
 For the sake of perspicuity, I shall first 
 consider what it is that constitutes the Beau- 
 ty of Simple Forms, and then, what consti- 
 tutes the Beauty of Complex Forms.
 
 330 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Simple Forms then may be considered as 
 described either by angular or winding 
 Lines. These different Forms seem to me 
 to be connected in our minds with very dif- 
 ferent Associations, or to be expressive to 
 us of very different Qualities. I shall beg 
 leave to mention some of these, without 
 pretending to a complete enumeration. 
 
 1. The greater part of those bodies in 
 Nature, which possess Hardness, Strength, 
 or Durability, are distinguished by angular 
 Forms. The greater part of those bodies, 
 on the contrary, which possess Weakness, 
 Fragility or Delicacy, are distinguished by 
 winding or curvilinear Forms. In the Mi- 
 
 o 
 
 neral Kingdom, all Rocks, Stones, and 
 Metals, the hardest and most durable bodies 
 we know, assume universally angular Forms. 
 In the Vegetable Kingdom, all strong 
 and durable Plants are in general dis- 
 tinguished by similar Forms. The fee- 
 bler and more delicate race of Vegetables, 
 on the contrary, are mostly distinguished
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 331 
 
 by winding Forms. In the Animal King- 
 dom, in the same manner, strong and power- 
 ful Animals are generally characterized by 
 Angular Forms: feeble and delicate Ani- 
 mals by Forms of the contrary kind. In 
 consequence of this very general connec- 
 tion in Nature, these different Forms be- 
 come expressive to us of the different quali- 
 ties of Strength and Delicacy. 
 
 2. In all those bodies which have a pro- 
 gress, or which grow and decay within 
 our own observation, the same character 
 of Form is observable. In the Vegetable 
 
 o 
 
 Kingdom, the infancy or youth of plants is, 
 in general, distinguished by winding Forms. 
 The infancy and youth of animals is, in the 
 same manner, distinguished by winding or 
 serpentine Forms; their mature and per- 
 fect age, by Forms more direct and angular. 
 In consequence of this connection, Forms 
 of the first kind become in such cases ex- 
 pressive to us of Infancy, and Tenderness,
 
 332 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 \ 
 
 and Delicacy; and those of the second kind, 
 of Maturity, and Strength, and Vigour. 
 
 3. Beside these very obvious Associa- 
 tions, it is also to be observed, that from 
 the Sense of Touch, angular Forms are ex- 
 pressive to us of Roughness, Sharpness, 
 Harshness ; winding Forms, on the contrary, 
 of Softness, Smoothness, Delicacy, and 
 Fineness; and this connection is so per- 
 manent, that we immediately infer the ex- 
 istence of these qualities, when the bodies 
 are only perceived by the Eye. There is a 
 very strong analogy between such qualities 
 as perceived by the Sense of Touch, and 
 certain qualities of mind ; as in all lan- 
 guages such qualities are expressed by terms 
 drawn from the perceptions of the external 
 sense. Such Forms, therefore, when pre- 
 sented to the Eye, not only lead us to infer 
 those material qualities which are perceived 
 by the Sense of Touch, but along with these, 
 to infer also those qualities of mind, which 
 from analogy are signified by such quali-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 333 
 
 ties of matter, and to feel from them some 
 degree of that Emotion which these disposi- 
 tions of mind themselves are fitted to pro- 
 duce. The epithets Bold, Harsh, Gentle, 
 Delicate, are universally applied to Forms. 
 In all languages figurative expressions of a 
 similar kind will be found ; and whoever at- 
 tends cither to his own feelings, or to the 
 meaning which men in general annex to 
 such words in applying them to Forms, will, 
 I believe, be convinced, that the Emotion 
 which they signify, and are intended to 
 signify, is founded upon the associated 
 qualities, and very different from the mere 
 agreeable or disagreeable sensation which 
 the material qualities alone convey. 
 
 4. The observations which I have now 
 made, relate principally to simple curves, 
 or to Forms in which a single curvature 
 takes place ; as the curve of the weeping 
 Willow, of the young shoots of Trees, of 
 the stem of the Tulip, and the Lily of the 
 Valley. There is another species of Form,
 
 334 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 commonly distinguished by the name of 
 the winding or serpentine Form, in which 
 different curves take place, or in which a 
 continued Line winds into several Cur- 
 vatures. With this Form, I apprehend we 
 have another, and a very important Associa- 
 tion, I mean that of Ease. From what 
 cause this Association arises, I will not now 
 stop to inquire ; but I conceive every one 
 must have observed, that wherever we find 
 Vegetables, or any other delicate or attenu- 
 ated body assume such Forms, we are im- 
 pressed with the conviction of its being- 
 easy, agreeable to their nature, and free 
 from force or constraint. On the contrary, 
 when such bodies, in the line of their pro- 
 gress, assume angular Forms, we have a 
 strong impression of the operation of force, 
 of something that either prevents them from 
 their natural direction, or that constrains 
 them to assume an unnatural one. That 
 winding Forms are thus expressive to us of 
 Volition and Ease, and angular Forms of
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 335 
 
 the operation of Force or Constraint, ap- 
 pears from a singular circumstance in Lan- 
 guage, viz. That, in general, all the former 
 directions are expressed by verbs in the ac- 
 tive voice ; a River winds, a Vine wreathes 
 itself about the Elm, a Flower bends, &c. 
 while, on the other hand, all directions of 
 the latter kind are expressed in general by 
 the passive voice of verbs. I believe, also, I 
 may appeal to the observation of the reader, 
 whether from the winding of a River, of 
 the Ivy, or of the tendrils of the Vine, he 
 has not an impression of Ease, of Free- 
 dom, of something agreeable to the object : 
 and whether, in the contrary Forms in such 
 cases, he has not an impression of uneasi- 
 ness, from the conviction of Force having 
 been applied, or some obstacle having oc- 
 curred, to constrain them to assume a direc- 
 tion unnatural to them. In general, there- 
 fore, I apprehend, that winding or serpen- 
 tine Forms are expressive to us of Ease, 
 and angular Forms of Force or Constraint.
 
 536 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Such seein to me the principal Associations 
 we have with the great division of Simple 
 Forms : Winding Forms being expressive 
 to us of Fineness, Delicacy, Ease ; and 
 angular Forms of Strength. Roughness, and 
 
 O c> ^ O 
 
 in some cases of the operation of Force or 
 Constraint. 
 
 All Forms, as perceived by the E\~e, are 
 constituted by Lines ; and their Beauty is 
 dependent upon the nature of these consti- 
 tuent parts. It is natural, therefore, to in- 
 quire, whether, from such Associations, any 
 general principles can be formed, which 
 may direct the Artist in the invention of 
 beautiful Forms, by determining the cha- 
 racter and expression of Lines. 
 
 Lines differ either in regard to their Na- 
 ture, or their Direction, 
 
 1. Lines differ in regard to their nature 
 according to the different degrees of their 
 Consistence or Strength. Strong and vi- 
 gorous lines are expressive to us of Strength 
 and Stability when perpendicular ; and of
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 33? 
 
 some degree of harshness or roughness when 
 horizontal, or in an oblique direction. Fine 
 and faint Lines are expressive to us of 
 Smoothness, Fineness, Delicacy^ In any 
 given number of straight Lines, that is al^ 
 ways most beautiful which is finest, or 
 which, while it preserves its continuity, has 
 the appearance of the smallest quantity of 
 matter employed in the formation of it. 
 Hence, in every subject, either of Art or 
 Nature, one of the principal causes of the 
 Beauty of delicate outline. 
 
 2. Lines differ in their direction in two 
 ways. They are either Even or Uneven, 
 that is, Straight or Irregular. Irregular 
 Lines differ again, they are either in Angles 
 or Curves. 
 
 1. Even Lines are expressive to us of 
 Softness and Smoothness. 
 
 2. Uneven Lines are either Angular or 
 Winding. 
 
 Angular Lines are expressive of Harsh- 
 ness, Roughness, &c. 
 VOL i. v
 
 338 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Winding Lines of Pliancy, Delicacy, 
 Ease, &c. 
 
 The real and actual Beauty of Lines will 
 be found to correspond to those Associa- 
 tions ; and these are in fact the most beau- 
 tiful which have the most pleasing or affect- 
 ing Expression, 
 
 1. Strong and Even Lines express 
 Strength and Smoothness. They have 
 therefore a degree of Beauty. Fine and 
 Even Lines express Delicacy and Smooth- 
 ness. They are accordingly more beauti- 
 ful than the former. 
 
 2. Strong and Angular Lines express 
 Strength and Harshness. They arc there- 
 fore very seldom beautiful. Fine and An- 
 gular Lines express Delicacy together with 
 Roughness. They are beautiful therefore 
 only, when the expression of Delicacy pre- 
 vails over the other. 
 
 3. Strong and Winding Lines express 
 Strength and Gentleness or Delicacy. 
 Their effect is mutually destroyed, and they
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 339 
 
 are accordingly indifferent, if not unpleas- 
 ing. Fine and Winding Lines express 
 Delicacy and Ease. They are accordingly 
 peculiarly beautiful. 
 
 4. The least beautiful Lines are Strono- 
 
 o 
 
 and Angular Lines. The most Beautiful, 
 Fine and Winding Lines. 
 
 Considering therefore Lines in this ab- 
 
 O 
 
 stracted view, and independent of the na- 
 ture of the bodies which they distinguish, it 
 seems very natural to conclude, That those 
 Forms will be the most beautiful which are 
 described by the most beautiful Lines, and 
 that, of consequence, the Serpentine or 
 winding Form must necessarily be the most 
 beautiful. It was this view of the subject 
 which seems to have influenced Mr Ho- 
 garth, in the opinions which he published 
 in his Analysis of Beauty. He saw clear- 
 ly, and his art afforded him continual 
 proofs of it, that the Winding Line was of 
 all others the most beautiful. He conceiv- 
 ed therefore 1 , that all Forms must be beau-
 
 340 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTV 
 
 iiful in proportion to the predominance of 
 this Line in their Composition ; and his 
 opinion falls in so much with the general 
 observation of Mankind, that it has been 
 very universally adopted. 
 
 If, however, the observations which I 
 have made upon the different expressions 
 of Forms are just ; if the Winding or Ser- 
 pentine Form is beautiful, not of itself, and 
 originally, but in consequence of the Asso- 
 ciations we connect with it, it ought to fol- 
 low, that whenever this Association is de- 
 stroyed, the Form should be no longer 
 beautiful, and that wherever the same As- 
 sociations are connected with the contrary 
 Form, that Form should then be felt as 
 Beautiful. 
 
 That this is actually the case, I shall now 
 endeavour to shew from several very fami- 
 liar illustrations. 
 
 1. If such Forms were in themselves 
 Beautiful, it is reasonable to think that this 
 should be expressed in Language, and that
 
 or THE MATERIAL WORLD. 341 
 
 the circumstance of the Form should be as- 
 signed as the cause of our Emotion. If, on 
 the contrary, such Forms are beautiful from 
 their being expressive of particular Quali- 
 ties, it is equally reasonable to think, that, 
 in common language, this expression should 
 be assigned as the cause of the Emotion. 
 That the latter is the case, cannot, I think, 
 well be disputed. No Man, when he is 
 speaking of the Beauty of any Form, unless 
 he has some Theory in his Mind, thinks of 
 ascribing it to the peculiar nature of the 
 Form, or of describing its Beauty to other 
 People, as consisting in this Form. The 
 terms, on the contrary, which are generally 
 used upon these occasions, are such as sig- 
 nify some quality of which the Form is ex- 
 pressive ; and the epithets by which the 
 Beauty of the Form is marked, are such as 
 are significant of these Qualities. Among 
 these Qualities, those of Gentleness, Fine- 
 ness or Delicacy, as far as I can judge, are 
 the most remarkable, and the most general-
 
 342 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY 
 
 ly expressed in common Language. In 
 describing the beautiful Forms of Ground, 
 we speak of gentle Declivities, and gentle 
 Swells, In describing the beautiful Forms 
 of Water, we speak of a mild Current, gentle 
 Falls, soft Windings, a tranquil Stream. In 
 describing the beautiful Forms of the Vege- 
 table Kingdom, we use a similar Language. 
 The delicacy of Flowers, of Foliage, of the 
 young Shoots of Trees and Shrubs, are ex- 
 pressions everywhere to be heard, and which 
 everywhere convey the belief of Beauty in 
 these Forms. In the same manner, in those 
 ornamental Forms, which are the production 
 of Art, we employ the same Language to ex- 
 press our opinion of their Beauty. The de- 
 licacy of a Wreath, of a Festoon, of Drapery, 
 of a Column, or of a Vase, a-re terms univer- 
 sally employed, and employed to signify the 
 reason of our admiration of their Forms. 
 
 It may be observed also, that in compar- 
 ing similar Forms, and determining with re- 
 gard to their Beauty, we employ the same
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WOULD. 343 
 
 language.; and that the reason we assign 
 for our -preference of one Form to another, 
 is, in general, .<from its superior -expression 
 of Fineness or Delicacy. In comparing 
 two Vases, or two Wreaths, or two Festoons, 
 or .-any Bother ornamental Forms, a Person 
 unacquainted with the Theories of Philoso- 
 phers, when he is asked the reason of his 
 preference, very readily answers, because it 
 is more delicate ; but never thinks of as- 
 signing any circumstance of the Form it- 
 self, as the foundation of his admiration. 
 The least attention to the common language 
 of Mankind on such subjects, will sufficient- 
 ly shew fro w much the expression of deli- 
 cacy determines the Beauty of all ornamen- 
 tal Forms. In describing any beautiful 
 Form, in the same manner, to other people, 
 we usually employ the same language, and 
 this language is not only perfectly under- 
 stood, but immediately also conveys to 
 others the conception of the Beauty of this 
 Form. If we were to describe the most
 
 SUBLIMITY AN~D BEAUTY 
 
 beautiful Vase in technical terms, and ac- 
 cording to the distinguished characteristics 
 of its Form, no one but an Artist would 
 have any tolerable conception of its Beau- 
 ty ; but if we were simply to describe it, as 
 peculiarly delicate in all its parts, I believe it 
 would leave with every one the impression of 
 the Beauty of its Form. If however, there 
 were any original and independent Beauty 
 in particular Forms, the description of this 
 Form would be alone sufficient to convey the 
 idea of its Beauty, and the circumstance of 
 its Delicacy or Fineness would be as little 
 able to convey this idea, as that of its Colour. 
 I shall only farther observe upon this 
 subject, that the language and opinions of 
 Children, and of common People, are inr 
 consistent with the notion of any original 
 or absolute Beauty in any particular Forms. 
 Every Form is beautiful to Children that 
 distinguishes objects which they love or 
 take pleasure in; and so far are they, or the 
 common People, from having any concep.-
 
 QF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 tion of the abstract Beauty of any peculiar 
 Forms, that it is very seldom they distin- 
 guish between the Form and the subject 
 formed, or feel any other Emotion from it, 
 than as it is expressive to them of the (jiuir 
 Jities of the object distinguished by thai 
 Form. If, on the contrary, there were any 
 original and independent Beauty in any 
 peculiar Form, tlie preference of this Form 
 would be early and decidedly marked, both 
 in the language of Children, and the opi-r 
 nions of Mankind. 
 
 As there appears, therefore, to be no Form 
 which is peculiarly or solely beautiful, and 
 as in winding or curvilinear Forms, the ge- 
 neral nature of Language seems to ascribe 
 
 o o 
 
 this Beauty to their expression of Delicacy, 
 and not to the mere circumstance of Form 
 itself, it appears probable, that the Beauty 
 of such Forms arises from this expression* 
 ami not from any original fitness in such 
 Forms to excite this Emotion. 
 
 2, "When this Association is destroyed,
 
 346 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 or when winding or curvilinear Forms cease 
 to be expressive of Tenderness or Delicacy, 
 I believe it will be found, that they cease 
 also to be felt as beautiful. The origin of 
 
 O 
 
 our Association of Delicacy with such 
 Forms arises, as I have before' observed; 
 from our general experience that bodies of 
 such a kind are distinguished - by such 
 Porras. This Association therefore will be 
 destroyed, when such Forms are given to, 
 or assumed by bodies of a contrary kind. 
 
 The greater part of beautiful Forms in 
 Nature, are to be found in the 'Vegetable 
 Kingdom, in the Forms of Flowers, of Fo- 
 liage, of Shrubs, and in those assumed by 
 the young Shoots of; Trees. -It is from 
 them, accordingly, that almost all those 
 Forms have been imitated, which have been 
 employed by Artists for the purposes of 
 Ornament and Elegance : and whoever will 
 take the trouble of reviewing these different 
 ornamental Forms, will find that they are 
 almost invariably the Forms of > such Vege- 
 
 6
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 347 
 
 tables, or of such parts of Vegetables, as are 
 distinguished by the Delicacy and "Fender- 
 ness of their Texture. 
 
 There are many parts however, of the 
 Vegetable Kingdom, which are not dis- 
 tinguished by this character of Delicacy. 
 The stem of some species of Flowers, and of 
 almost all Shrubs, the trunk and branches 
 of Trees, are distinguished by opposite 
 characters, and would indeed be unlit for 
 the purposes of Vegetation if they were not. 
 In these subjects, accordingly, the winding 
 or serpentine Form is very far from being 
 beautiful, as it has no longer its usual ex- 
 pression of Fineness or Delicacy. 
 
 In the smaller and feebler tribe of flowers, 
 for instance, as in the Violet, the Daisy, or 
 the Lily of the Valley, the bending of the 
 stem constitutes a very beautiful Form, be- 
 cause we immediately perceive that it is the 
 consequence of the weakness and delicacy 
 of the flower. In the liose, on the con- 
 trary, and the white Lily, and in the tribe
 
 SUBLIMITY AND' BEAUTY 
 
 of flowering shrubs, a class of vegetables 
 
 o o 
 
 of greater strength, the same Form assumed 
 by the stem is felt as a defect, and instead 
 of impressing us with the idea of Delicacy, 
 ieads us to believe the operation of some 
 force to twist it into this direction. In the 
 young and feeble branches of such plants, 
 however, this Form is again beautiful, when 
 we perceive that it is the consequence of 
 the delicacy of their texture, and of their 
 being overpowered by the weight of the 
 flower. In the Vine or Ivy, in the same 
 manner, the winding of the j r oung shoots 
 and feebler branches, constitutes very beau- 
 tiful Forms. In the direction of the stem, 
 on the other hand, such Forms are felt as a 
 defect, as no longer expressive of Delicacy, 
 but of Force. In the growth of the strong- 
 er vegetables, as of Trees, where we know 
 and expect great strength, nothing can be 
 so far from being beautiful, as any winding 
 or serpentine Form assumed by the trunk. 
 The beautiful Form of such objects is of so
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 very different a kind, that it is in the oppo- 
 site Form only that we perceive it. In the 
 direction of the branches, the same charac- 
 ter is expected*, and a similar defect would 
 be felt in their assuming' any regularly wind- 
 ing or curvilinear Form. It is only when we 
 arrive at the young shoots* and that only in' 
 their infant season, in spring, that we dis- 
 cover again the serpentine Form to be 
 beautiful, because it is then only that we 
 perceive it to be really expressive of Ten- 
 derness or Delicacy. Observations of this 
 kind are within every person's reach, and I 
 believe it will be found, that, in the Vege- 
 table Kingdom, the winding or serpentine 
 Form is no longer beautiful than while it is 
 expressive of some degree of Delicacy or 
 Fineness, and that it ceases to be beautiful, 
 whenever it is assumed by bodies of a dif- 
 ferent kind. 
 
 . All the different bodies which constitute 
 the Mineral Kingdom, are distinguished by 
 a greater degree of Hardness and Solidity,
 
 *K)O .SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 than is to be found in any other of the pro- 
 ductions of Nature. Such bodies, however, 
 by different exertions of Art, may be 
 moulded into any form we please ; but the 
 beauty of the serpentine Form, in such 
 cases, is lost, from our consciousness of the 
 absence of that Delicacy which in general 
 accompanies such Forms. It is possible, 
 for instance, to imitate the winding of the 
 Ivy, the tendrils of the Vine, or the beau- 
 tiful curves of the Hose Tree, in Iron, or in 
 any other metal. It is possible also, to 
 colour such imitations in so perfect a 
 manner, as at first to deceive the spectator. 
 If I am not mistaken, however, the moment 
 we are undeceived, the moment we know 
 that the subject is so different from that 
 which characterizes such Forms in real Na- 
 ture, the Beauty of the Forms is destroyed, 
 and instead of that pleasing sentiment of 
 Tenderness which the delicacy of the vege- 
 tables excites, a sentiment of disappoint- 
 ment and uneasiness succeeds : of dis-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 351 
 
 appointment, from the absence of that deli- 
 cacy which we generally infer from the ap- 
 pearance of such Forms ; and of uneasiness, 
 from the conviction of Force having been 
 applied to twist the subject into so un- 
 natural directions. If the same observation 
 is further pursued, I think it will be found 
 in general, that wherever the delicate Forms 
 of the vegetable world are imitated in 
 metal, or any other hard and durable sub- 
 stance, the character of the Form is lost, 
 and that instead of that lively Emotion of 
 Beauty, which we receive from the original 
 Forms, we are conscious of a feeling of dis- 
 
 ' O 
 
 content, from the seeming impropriety of 
 giving to such durable substances a charac- 
 ter which does not belong to them. 
 
 There arc 1 , however, undoubtedly, cases 
 in which curvilinear Forms in such subjects 
 are beautiful. I apprehend, however, that 
 this takes place only when a kind of adven- 
 titious delicacy is given to such substances, 
 and of consequence ihc same character h
 
 352 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY 
 
 retained by the Form which we have ge- 
 nerally associated with it in real Nature. This 
 effect is in general produced by the follow- 
 ing causes: Ltf, When the quantity of mat- 
 ter is so small, as to overcome our sense of 
 its strength or durability : and, %dly, When 
 the workmanship is so excellent, as to pro- 
 duce an opinion of fineness or delicacy, in-* 
 dependent of the nature of the subject up- 
 on which it is employed. In either of these 
 cases, such Forms may be beautiful, though 
 assumed by the hardest or most durable 
 substances. 
 
 A Bar of Iron, for instance, or of any other 
 metal, may be twisted by force into the 
 most perfect spiral Form ; but in such a 
 case, the conviction of force and labour de* 
 stroys altogether the beauty of the general 
 Form. Suppose this bar lengthened, until 
 it becomes as slender as the wires which are 
 made use of in musical instruments, and as 
 delicate as such wires are, and the Form 
 becomes immediately beautiful. The same
 
 Of THE MATERIAL WORLD. 353 
 
 bar may be bent by force into the Form of 
 any given curve. In such a case the curve 
 is not beautiful* Make the same experi- 
 ment with a chain of iron, or of any other 
 metal, which in some respects is yielding 
 and pliant, and where we know that no 
 force is requisite to make it assume such 
 Forms, and the curves which it produces 
 will be found very different in point of 
 Beauty. The imitation of any vegetable 
 Form, in the same manner, as the Vine, or 
 the Rose, in any kind of metal, and as large 
 as it is found in nature, would be very far 
 from being beautiful. The imitation of 
 such Forms in Miniature, and in Relief, 
 when the character of the substance is in 
 some measure forgot in the diminution of 
 its quantity, may be, and very often is, ex- 
 tremely beautiful. The embellishments of 
 a Vase, or of an Urn, which in general con- 
 sist in the imitation of vegetable Forms, are 
 beautiful, both from the diminution of their 
 size, and from the delicacy of their work- 
 TOL. i. 7,
 
 354 15 tf 8 L 1M IT Y fA< N D B E A UT t , 
 
 manship. > If either of these circumstances 
 were wanting, if they were massy in their 
 substance, or , imperfect in their execu- 
 tion, I apprehend a proportionable degree 
 of their Beauty would be lost. In the. same 
 manner, although none of the Forms of the 
 greater vegetables are beautiful, when imi* 
 tated, in their full size, many of the smaller 
 ftnd more delicate plants may be imitated 
 with propriety, because such imitations sup^ 
 pose not only small quantities of matter, 
 but great accuracy and perfection of art. 
 JH {The same observation may be extended 
 to the ornaments of Architecture. These 
 prnaments being executed in a very hard 
 and durable ^substance, are in fact only 
 beautifuhwhen they appear but as minute 
 parts of the whole. The great constituent 
 parts of every building require direct and 
 angular lines, because in such parts .we 
 require the Expression of Stability and 
 Strength. It is only in the minute and 
 delicate parts of the work, that any kind of
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 355 
 
 ornament is attempted with propriety ; and 
 whenever such ornaments exceed in size, , 
 in their quantity of matter, or in the promi- 
 nence of their Relief, that proportion which 
 in point of lightness or delicacy we expect 
 them to hold with respect to the whole of 
 the building, the imitation of the most beau- 
 tiful vegetable Forms does not preserve 
 them from the censure of Clumsiness and 
 Deformity. A ballustrade might with equal 
 propriety be finished in waving lines, 
 but certainly would not be beautiful. A 
 twisted column, though affording very pleas- 
 ing curves to the Eye, is acknowledged to 
 be less beautiful than the common and 
 regular one. In short, if the serpentine 
 Form were the only Form of Beauty, it 
 might with sufficient propriety be intro- 
 duced into a great number of the ornamen- 
 tal parts of Architecture. The fact of which 
 every person may assure himself, that such 
 Forms are beautiful only in those parts 
 where the quantity of matter is minute, the
 
 356 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 Relief small, and the workmanship more 
 exquisite, affords a strong presumption, 
 that sueh Forms cease to be beautiful, 
 when the general Association we have with 
 them is destroyed. 
 
 It is the same limit which seems to de- 
 termine the Beauty of those Forms which 
 are executed either in wood or plaster, for 
 the ornament of our houses. Every person 
 must have observed in old houses, the abso- 
 lute deformity of those figures with which 
 llie roofs were decorated ; and in comparing 
 them with those of modern times, will per- 
 ceive that the great superiority of the latter 
 consists in the greater delicacy of the 
 Forms, as well as in the greater perfection 
 of the execution. In both, flowers and fo- 
 liage are imitated ; but in the one in full Re- 
 lief, and upon a scale sometimes greater than 
 that of Nature. In the other, with the sim- 
 plest Relief, and the finest lines, that are con- 
 sistent with the preparation of the subject. 
 The terms, accordingly, by which we e\-
 
 OP THE MATERIAL WORLD. . n >5j 
 
 press our contempt or our admiration of them, 
 are those of Heaviness or Lightness, terms 
 which in this subject are synonymous with 
 Massiness or Delicacy. The subjects, how- 
 ever, are the same, and no other circum- 
 stances intervene, but the superior delicacy 
 of the Forms, and the greater accuracy of 
 the workmanship. 
 
 It would lead me into too Ion<? a digres- 
 
 o o 
 
 sion, if I were to enter into any detail on 
 these subjects. The hints which I have of- 
 fered, may perhaps lead the reader to satisfy 
 himself by his own observation ; that the 
 winding or curvilinear Form is beautiful 
 only in those subjects which are distinguish- 
 ed by softness or delicacy of texture ; thai 
 in substances of a hard and durable nature, 
 it in general ceases to be beautiful ; and 
 that, in those cases where it is found to be 
 beautiful, it arises from that adventitious 
 delicacy (if I may so call il) which is pro- 
 duced, either when the quantity of matter 
 employed is so small as to overcome our
 
 358 SUBLIMITY AXD BEAUTY 
 
 opinion of its strength or durability, or 
 when the workmanship is so excellent, as 
 to bestow on the subject a character of 
 Delicacy which does not properly belong 
 to it. If in this manner it is found, that 
 when the Association is destroyed, the cur- 
 vilinear Form ceases to be beautiful, it is 
 obvious, that this Beauty is to be ascribed, 
 not to the Form itself, but to the quality of 
 which it is expressive. 
 
 3. As the Beauty of the winding or cur- 
 vilinear Form is thus destroyed, when those 
 Associations of Tenderness and of Delica- 
 cy, which we in general connect with it, 
 are dissolved, so, in the same manner, it" 
 may be observed, that all other Forms, 
 when they have this character or expression, 
 are considered and felt as beautiful. If 
 there is any Form, or species of Forms, 
 which is fitted by the constitution of our 
 nature immediately to excite the Emotion 
 'of Beauty, and independent of all Associa- 
 tion, it is obvious, that there never could
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 359 
 
 have been a doubt upon the subject; and 
 that,: in every class of objects, we should 
 have been as able to point out the beauti- 
 ful Form, as to point out its Colour or 
 Smell. The fact is, however, that in no 
 class of objects is there any such permanent 
 Form of Beauty ; and, besides the disagree- 
 ment of different as;es and nations in the 
 
 o 
 
 Beauty of Forms, every man must have 
 perceived, in the course of his experience, 
 that every general rule on this subject is 
 liable to innumerable exceptions, and that 
 there is no one Form, or species of Form, 
 which, to the exclusion of all others, de- 
 mands and obtains admiration. 
 
 That angular Forms, accordingly, are 
 also beautiful, when they are expressive of 
 Fineness, of Tenderness, of Delicacy, or 
 such affecting qualities, may perhaps ap- 
 pear from the consideration of the following 
 instances. 
 
 In the Vegetable World, although it is 
 generally true that winding Forms are those
 
 36'0 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 that are assumed by young, or feeble, or 
 delicate plants, yet this rule is far from 
 being uniform, and there are many instan- 
 ces of similar productions being distinguish- 
 ed by Forms of an angular kind. There 
 are accordingly many cases, where this 
 Form is considered as beautiful, because it 
 is then expressive of the same qualities 
 which are generally expressed by Forms of 
 the other kind. The Myrtle, for instance, 
 is generally reckoned a beautiful Form, yet 
 the growth of its stem is perpendicular, the 
 junction of its branches form regular and 
 similar angles, and their direction is in 
 straight or angular Lines. The known de- 
 licacy however, and tenderness of the Vege- 
 table, at least in this climate, prevails over 
 the general expression of the Form, and 
 gives it the same Beauty which we general- 
 ly find in Forms of a contrary kind. How 
 much more beautiful is the Rose Tree when 
 its buds begin to blow, than afterwards 
 when its flowers are full and in their great?
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 36l 
 
 est perfection : yet in this first situation, its 
 Form has much less winding surface, and is 
 much more composed of straight lines and of 
 angles, than afterwards, when the weight of 
 the flower weighs down the feeble branches, 
 and describes the easiest and most varied 
 curves. The circumstance of its youth, 
 a circumstance in all cases so affecting ; 
 the delicacy of its blossom, so well expres- 
 sed by the care which nature has taken in 
 surrounding the opening bud with leaves, 
 prevail so much upon our Imagination, 
 that we behold the Form itself with more 
 delight in this situation, than afterwards, 
 when it assumes the more general Form of 
 delicacy. Jt is on a similar account that 
 the leaves of Vegetables form a very com- 
 mon, and a very beautiful Decoration, 
 though they are less distinguished by wind- 
 ing Lines, than almost any other part of 
 the plants. There are an infinite number 
 of the feebler Vegetables, and many of the 
 common grasses, the Forms of which are
 
 3()2 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 altogether distinguished by Angles and 
 straight Lines, and where there is not a 
 single Curvature through the whole, yet all 
 of which are beautiful, and of which also 
 some are imitated in different ornamental 
 Forms with excellent effect, merely from the 
 Fineness and Delicacy of their Texture, 
 which is so very striking that they never 
 fail, when we attend to them, to afford us 
 that sentiment of interest and tenderness, 
 which in general we receive from the oppo- 
 site Form. There are few things in the Ve- 
 getable World more beautiful than the 
 
 O 
 
 knotted and angular stem of the Balsam ; 
 merely from its singular transparency, which 
 it is impossible to look at, without a strong 
 impression of the Fineness and Delicacy of 
 the Vegetable. Such observations with re- 
 
 o 
 
 gard to Flowers or plants, every person has 
 it in his power to pursue. There is not, 
 perhaps, any individual of this Kingdom, 
 which if it is remarkable for its Delicacy or 
 Tenderness, is not also considered as beau-
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 363 
 
 tif'ul in its Form, whether that Form be 
 winding or angular. 
 
 It deserves also to be remarked, that the 
 Form of the great constituent parts of all 
 Vegetables, whether strong or delicate, is 
 nearly the same ; the growth of the stem 
 and the direction of the branches beino; in 
 
 o 
 
 both alike, and in both also either in 
 straight or in Angular Lines. It is princi- 
 pally in the more delicate parts of the first, 
 in the young Shoots, and in the Foliage, 
 that they deviate from this Form, and as- 
 sume winding or curvilinear directions. It 
 is in these parts only, as I have before ob- 
 served, that we discover beautiful Forms. 
 In the class of feeble or delicate Plants, on 
 the contrary, the Forms which we neglect 
 in the first, are regarded as beautiful, be- 
 cause they have that expression which is 
 found only in the opposite Forms of the 
 other. The same Form has thus a different 
 effect from the difference of its expression ; 
 and the straight Lines and angular June.
 
 364 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 lions, which are merely indifferent in the 
 Elm and the Oak, are beheld with delight 
 in the Plant or the Flower, when we are 
 convinced that they are accompanied with 
 Tenderness and Delicacy. 
 
 In many of those Arts, where the Beau- 
 ty of Form is chiefly consulted, the same 
 circumstance is observable. In all of them, 
 the Beauty of Form is principally deter- 
 mined by its expression of Delicacy ; but 
 as in many of them the curvilinear Form is 
 necessarily less expressive of this quality 
 than the angular one, it is accordingly less 
 beautiful. 
 
 In the manufacture of Glass, for instance, 
 the great Beauty of the Form is in propor- 
 tion to this expression. Nothing is less 
 beautiful than thick and massy Glass, 
 which, from its quantity, seems intended to 
 compensate for its Fragility. Nothing, on 
 the contrary, is more generally beautiful, 
 than thin and transparent Glass, which, 
 from experience, we know to be the most
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 365 
 
 decisive sign of its Delicacy and Weakness. 
 In such a manufacture, winding Lines can- 
 not be observed without necessarily increas- 
 ing the quantity and thickness of the ma- 
 terial, and of consequence diminishing its 
 Fineness and Transparency. Such Forms, 
 accordingly, are less beautiful than those 
 composed of more direct and angular Lines, 
 which, while they admit of greater transpa- 
 rency, express also greater delicacy and 
 fineness. To take a very common instance : 
 the stalk of a wine Glass might with equal 
 ease be fashioned into serpentine or wind- 
 ing Forms, as into the angular compartments 
 in which we generally find it ; yet I am 
 much deceived if it would be nearly as 
 beautiful, because these Lines could not ad- 
 mit of that apparent fineness of surface, or 
 transparency of matter, which is obtained 
 by its angular Divisions. In a Lustre, in 
 the same manner, one of the most beautiful 
 productions of this manufacture, all is angu- 
 lar. The Form of the Prism, one of the
 
 366 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 most regular and angular of all Forms, ob- 
 tains everywhere, the Festoons even are 
 angular, and instead of any winding or 
 waving Line, the whole surface is broken 
 into a thousand little Triangle's ; yet I con- 
 ceive no person will deny its Beauty. A 
 Lustre, on the other hand, composed of the 
 most beautiful Curves, and studiously varied 
 into the most waving surface, would not be 
 nearly so beautiful ; because the necessary 
 thickness which it would give to the Glass, 
 would, in this case, be expressive of 
 Strength and of Solidity, instead of Deli- 
 cacy, and would diminish altogether that 
 fine Transparency, which, in this manufac- 
 ture, is immediately the sign of Tenderness 
 and Fragility. 
 
 The same observation will apply to the 
 manufacture of Steel, or any other of the 
 Metals. The greatest expression of Deli- 
 cacy which a hard subtance like Steel can 
 receive, is from the Fineness and Brilliancy 
 of its surface. It demands, of consequence,
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 36j 
 
 angular Forms, which, by admitting great- 
 er perfection of polish, or, at least, by dis- 
 playing it better, are more beautiful than 
 Curves, --which require both greater solidity, 
 and have less brilliancy. A sword Hilt, or 
 a watch Chain, are infinitely finer and more 
 beautiful, when they are composed of angu- 
 lar Forms, than where they are composed 
 of Curves. In the Forms which are given 
 to Jewels, the same rule universally obtains. 
 The delicacy of such subjects is in their 
 Brilliancy. The only Form therefore that 
 is beautiful in them, is that which displays 
 it. 
 
 There is no subject of this kind, in which 
 Beauty of Form is more generally consult- 
 ed, or indeed more generally found, than in 
 the different articles of household Furniture. 
 Such objects, by being composed of the 
 uniform material of Wood, and that a hard 
 and durable one, admit of little difference 
 in point of Delicacy, but in the Quantity, 
 r in the Form which is given to this Ma.-
 
 368 SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY 
 
 terial. With regard to the first, all Furni- 
 
 C7 
 
 ture, I apprehend, is Beautiful in propor- 
 tion to the smallness of its quantity of Mat- 
 ter, or the Fineness or Delicacy of the parts 
 of it. Strong and Massy Furniture is every- 
 where vulgar and unpleasing J and though, 
 in point of utility, we pardon it in general 
 use, yet wherever we expect Elegance or 
 Beauty, we naturally look for Fineness and 
 Delicacy in it. The actual Progress of 
 Taste in this Article is from Strength to 
 Delicacy. The first articles of Furniture in 
 every country are strong and substantial. 
 As Taste improves, and as it is found that 
 Beauty, as well as Utility, may be consult- 
 ed in such subjects, their strength arid soli- 
 dity are gradually diminished, until at last, 
 by successive improvement, the progress 
 terminates in that last degree of Delicacy, 
 and even of Fragility, which is consistent 
 either with the nature of the Workmanship, 
 or the preservation of the Subject. 
 
 In this progress, it is discovered, that
 
 OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. 369 
 
 where the material which is employed is 
 hard and durable, the greatest delicacy 
 which can be given to the Form, is rather 
 in the use of direct and angular Lines, than 
 in winding and serpentine ones ; and chief- 
 ly from the reason I have before mentioned, 
 that Curves cannot be employed without a 
 proportionable and very obvious increase 
 of Solidity, and by these means, destroying 
 in a great measure the expression of Deli- 
 cacy. Whoever will look into any of those 
 books, which have made us acquainted with 
 the Forms of Grecian or Roman Furniture, 
 in their periods of cultivated Taste, will per- 
 ceive accordingly, that in scarcely any of 
 them, is the winding or serpentine Form 
 observed ; and that, on the contrary, the 
 lightest and most beautiful of them, are al- 
 most universally distinguished by straight 
 or angular Lines, and by the utmost pos- 
 sible diminution of Solidity, that is consistent 
 either with convenience or use. What is 
 there, for instance, more beautiful in thjs 
 VOL. i. A a
 
 m \ the* besjhpeiiods of Roman 3]aate ? f Tho 
 feet gradually lessening to the end* 
 converging as they approach Ju-j 
 plane of the table placed, with little 
 ment, nearly at right angles to the feet ; and 
 the whole appearing to form an imperfect 
 triangle, whose base is above. There is 
 scarcely in such a subject, a possibility of 
 contriving a more angular Form, yet there 
 can be none more completely beautiful;? 
 because this Form itself is more immediate- 
 ly expressive of Delicacy, than almost any 
 other which could have been imagined : 
 the slightness of the whole fabric, the de- 
 creasing proportion of the feet as they de*- 
 scend to the ground, the convergence of the 
 feet themselves, and the narrowness of the 
 base for the superstructure, expressing not 
 only the utmost, degree of Delicacy that is 
 consistent with use, but impressing us also 
 with the further conviction of the necessity 
 of approaching or handling it .with tender*
 
 OF THE HATERTAi; ^O&tB. 3?1 
 
 ing its digfet Stabili^ 
 tyi.T From 1 this elegant Model, accordingly, 
 6r from* others, in which the same principle 
 obtains, the greater part of the most beauti- 
 ful articles of Modern Furniture are imi- 
 tated. It is the Form which prevails in 
 the construction of Chairs, Tables, Sofas, 
 Beds, &c. and it is the Delicacy which it so 
 well expresses, that bestows upon them 
 the greater part of their Beauty. The ap- 
 plication of winding or serpentine Lines, or 
 of the more general Form of Beauty, would 
 tend only to diminish their effect, by be- 
 stowing upon them the appearance of a 
 greater degree of Solidity, and thus lessen- 
 ing, instead of increasing, the expression 
 which is the cause of this effect. 
 
 In the course of these observations, the 
 Reader will observe, that I have all along 
 gone upon the suppositioo, that there is in 
 reality only one species of winding or cur- 
 vilinear Form; -and that I have confined 
 my- observations .upon their expression to
 
 StJBlIMITY AND BEAUT* 7 
 
 this general character of Form. Every one 
 knows, however* that such Forms admit of 
 great variety, and that the number of dif- 
 ferent curvatures that may be produced are 
 almost infinite. Whoever then will take 
 the trouble of pursuing this investigation, 
 may, I think, easily satisfy himself, that 
 among these, there is none uniformly and 
 permanently beautiful ; that the same-Curve 
 which is beautiful in one case, is very often 
 not beautiful in others ; and that in all cases 
 that curvature is the most beautiful, which 
 is most fully expressive of Delicacy or 
 Ease in the subject which it distinguishes, 
 As Forms of this kind differ also in the 
 number, as well as in the nature of their 
 curvatures, he will perceive also, that the 
 same dependence upon their expressions 
 continues ; that the same number of curva- 
 tures or windings which are beautiful in one 
 subject, are not beautiful in others ; alid 
 that whenever in any subject the number 
 of windings exceeds our opinion of Ease or
 
 QF'THE MATERIAL WOULD. 373 
 
 Facility > it from that period becomes un- 
 pleasing, and expressive only of Force or 
 Constraint The limits which I must pre- 
 scribe to myself in these observations, 
 oblige me, in this, as in every other part of 
 them, to refer much of the illustration which 
 might be produced, to the reader's own re- 
 flection and investigation. 
 
 If the observations which I have now oi- 
 fered on the Natural Beauty of Forms, or tha* 
 Beauty which arises from the consideration 
 of Form itself, be just, we may perhaps, 
 without much impropriety, rest in the fol- 
 lowing conclusions on the subject. 
 
 1. That the Beauty of such Forms arise* 
 from the qualities of Fineness, Delicacy, or 
 Ease, of which they are expressive, 
 
 2. That in every subject, that Form 
 (whether angular or curvilinear) which is 
 most expressive of these qualities, is tlw 
 most beautiful Form. And, 
 
 3. That, in general, the curvilinear or
 
 374 *UBLIMlTi AND BEAUTY 
 
 wncliflg y^m,^ most frequpatl y 
 of the^igHg^^j^ is the most 
 
 \i|b regard B!SO to those Arts 
 employed in the imitation or Invention of 
 ornamental Forms, the following observa- 
 tions may not be without their use : 
 
 1. That wherever natural forms are imi- 
 tated, those will be the most beautiful, 
 which are most expressive of delicacy and 
 ease. 
 
 2. That wherever new or arbitrary forms 
 are invented, that form will be the most beau- 
 tiful which is composed by the most beauti- 
 ful lines, or, in other words, by lines which 
 have the most pleasing expression. And , 
 
 3. That wherever the subject of the form 
 is of a hard or durable nature, that form 
 will be the most beautiful, in which the 
 smallest quantity of matter is employed, 
 and the greatest delicacy of execution ex^- 
 erted. ., 
 
 The truth of these remarks I leave al 
 together to be determined by the observa* -
 
 "O'F*tHE MATERIAL WORLD. 
 
 ttofr Of ^e-rader. I f shMl dnfy observe, 
 
 / 
 
 that in the prosecution of this inquiry, it is 
 necessary to leave out of consideration 
 every circumstance of design, of fitness, or 
 of utility, and to consider forms in the light 
 only of their appearance to the eye, with- 
 out any relation either to an author or an 
 end. These relations (as will be shown 
 afterwards) are the foundation of a distinct 
 species of Beauty, to which the principles 
 of their natural Beauty do not apply, 
 
 Although, however, I have thus been led 
 to conclusions different from those of Mr 
 Hogarth, yet it is but justice to a perfor- 
 mance of uncommon ingenuity, to acknow- 
 ledge, that the principle which he has en- 
 deavoured to establish in his analysis of 
 Beauty, is perhaps of all others the justest 
 and best founded principle which has as 
 yet been maintained, in the investigation of 
 the natural Beauty of forms. The instances 
 which I have produced, and many others 
 of the same kind, that will probably occur
 
 376' SUBLIMITY AND BEAUTY, &C. 
 
 to every man of reflection, seem to me very 
 strongly to show, that the principle of the 
 absolute Beauty of Serpentine Forms is to 
 be considered only as a general principle, 
 subject to many exceptions ; and that not 
 only this form is beautiful, from being the 
 sign of particular interesting and affecting 
 qualities, but that in fact also, forms of the 
 contrary kind are likewise beautiful, when 
 they are expressive of the same qualities. 
 
 C.\'l> Of iliE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Printed by George Ramsay A: Co. 
 Edinburgh, 1810.
 
 3 5 6 

 
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