POETRY. 741 
we experience would feem to fet all claflification of them 
at defiance; but, if patiently confidered, it will be found 
that they all of them centre in ourfelves ; that we view 
fome analogy in them to a faculty of our mind. The ob¬ 
ject may be endeared to us by recollections of the fports 
and fcenes of our boyhood; or it may be conducive to 
our comfort; it may be ufeful; and all this makes it 
pleafing. Nature in general is pleafing; every thing tends 
to fome ulterior purpofe, fome end. But the molt refined 
pleafures this aflociation gives, are the ideas of beauty and 
fublimity; ideas fo well defined, that every critic has been 
endeavouring to explain them. A certain author, who is 
ufually confidered very obfcureand hard to be underftood, 
wrote an anfwer to thefe two queftions many years ago; 
and, though much ftudy has been employed fince his time 
in the fubjeCI, no one has reached his fimple and irretraAr¬ 
able conclufions. This author is Kant. We fliall be in¬ 
debted to 'him for the leading ideas in the analylis of 
fublimity. But firft let us fpeak of the beautif ul. 
All ohjeds in nature which we denominate beautiful 
will be found to have this in common, that they are 
mixed with notions of good. Companion, tendernefs, 
love (the conqueror of felf-intereft), lhame, humility, are 
all good; and they form the chief ingredients in our 
conceptions of beauty. It mult be granted that this is 
not direCtly apparent. But let us think a little. 
Survey the whole chain of Nature ; and where can you 
find an objeft capable of delighting beyond the moment, 
unlefs it fuggeft fome thoughts leading to good ? The 
waving corn is beauteous only as it is affociated with 
plenty; and therefore happinefs, human happinefs, in¬ 
compatible with vice. The cottage is beauteous to the 
citizen and the philofopher, who view it as the abode of 
peace and affeCtion, and fimplicity of manners. Not fo 
thinks its owner, who knows its anxieties, its bickerings, 
its miferies; he looks to the lofty domes of the metropo¬ 
lis as the feats of beauty and grace. The quiet fheep, 
the bounding goat, and the balmy-breathing cow, are fim¬ 
ple objeCts which by a hundred channels lead us to the 
aflbciations of happinefs and virtue. 
Politenefs is beautiful, as connected with benevolence 
and humility; and indignation is beautiful, inafmuch as 
it tends to the overthrow of vice. The tear is beautiful, 
whether fear, love, or joy, or grief for others, be expreffed 
by it; but difgulting when it is the refult of fpite or dif- 
appointed malice. The drooping flower is affociated with 
the helpleflnefs which clings to pity. All centres in the 
good ; and, though a never-ending variety of beauteous 
conceptions daily and hourly arife in the mind, good is 
never abfent. But let us not confound this good with 
the lofty virtue of which we fliall prefently treat, and 
which is fublime. Beneficence and affeCtion, though 
they tend to the higheft virtues, are not, when confidered 
as they truly are, that is, mere impulfcs of our nature, 
worthy the name of virtue. The aCtions they lead to 
will be erroneous, unlefs reafon commands them. 
The Sublime .—We mean by this word fomething grand 
and exalted, fomething we do not underhand. Thus all 
violent and undefined emotions are fublime. Thefe, 
however, belong often to the falfe fublime; and their 
fublimity vanifhes with knowledge. But whatever ex¬ 
cites in our minds aflbciations leading to the notions of 
infinity and eternity , the attributes of God and of our 
own fouls, is truly, and will always remain, fublime. 
In defcriptive poetry the oak is fublime, becaufe it is af¬ 
fociated with invincible firmnefs ; it will break, but will 
not bend. It is inverted with that mighty freewill which 
is in ourfelves, with that unbending that infinite energy 
that yields only to annihilation. The works of Milton 
are fublime. He boldly launched into the mighty and 
obfcure ideas of creation, infinity, and immortality ; into 
that overwhelming and myfterious ocean of thought, 
which, always appalling, yet always prefent, is the con- 
ftant fupport and terror of our voyage through life. 
Tragedy is fublime, becaufe flie tells us of our own foul, 
Vol. XX. No. 1406. 
fettered indeed by the bonds of the fiefli, but ftill refiftant. 
Love, that lofes all felfilhnefs, all fenfual defire, nay, in¬ 
tellectual comfort, for the good of the one loved ; Juftice, 
that gives up all, even the ties of blood and nature, for 
the right, as did Brutus ; Virtue, that cannot furvive 
fhame, as Lucretia taught;—thefe hold the firft rank in 
the fublime. But the power of overcoming fear and 
other corporeal weaknefs is fublime, even when lone mo¬ 
tives fet it in aCtion. Revenge, untired by toils, un¬ 
broken by punilhment, feeking his foe through life, is 
certainly fublime. Richard, defying heaven and deriding 
hell, deaf to all the cries of nature and the claims of man¬ 
hood, and having only one mean impulfe, viz. the love of 
felf, ftill is fublime. Othello is of all paflionate characters 
the moft fublime. Some may conquer fear, others may 
conquer pleafure ; but he conquers the pureft, ftrongeft, 
and tendereft, love; ftirred on by a jealoufy that has the 
heft of fources, the love of honour. 
ObJ'curity, power, vafinefs, are, as Burke truly obferves, 
fublime: it is eafy to trace thefe to the infinite. How 
obfcure are our ideas of ourfelves, of our Creator, the 
world! In thinking of thefe fubjeCts, we Hand upon the 
confines of our knowledge, at the very limits of thought, 
udth an abyfs before us which we cannot, dare not, enter. 
Of the power of obfeurity in creating fublimity Milton 
avails himfelf well in his defeription of Death. This 
figure has nothing defined : 
The other fliape. 
If fhape it might be called that fliape had none 
Diftinguilhable in member, joint, or limb; 
Or fubftance might be called, that fhadow feemed ; 
For each feemed either—black he flood as night. 
* * * * * What feemed his head 
The likenefs of a kingly crown had on. 
What a fearful pifture ! yet it has no feature of the fub¬ 
lime but its obfeurity. The terms myfterious, ocean, 
obfcure, night, point out alfo the force of this aflocia- 
tion. 
An extraordinary degree of any quality leads us to 
think of the infinite. This in fome degree explains 
the fublimity of extraordinary power, though it mull; 
be noted, that power unconnected with fome obfeu¬ 
rity feldom goes far. By the fame rule they are commonly 
large ; as buildings or mountains, fuggefting the abftraCt 
notion of quantity, lead us to the infinite; and hence is 
fublimity of vafinefs. 
The fame rule alfo applies to number, to a great multi¬ 
tude of fimilar parts; a row of columns too numerous for 
the eye to count, has a grand effeCt. 
The virtues which relult from a fenfe of duty, uncon¬ 
nected by paflion, are fublime. Had Brutus been induced 
to kill Casfar by poverty, by ftarvation, by opprobrium, 
by injuftice, by connubial or filial affeCtion, he had never 
lived a deathlefs name. He ftruck the blow'becaufe the 
deed was right; in fpite of his inclination, he gave up all 
to jufiice. Rome boafts no other hero like to him. And 
here can we help digrefling, and admiring that goodnefs 
which would not leave this principle of virtue, though 
fo potent, to ftruggle unaided by the lower faculties ? 
How much does indignation, the love of fame, the fear 
of blame, the hope of future reward, the dread of eternal 
punifnment, ftrengthen the practice of juftice and of all 
the other fublime virtues! Yet furely thefe alone would 
never caufe high virtues. 
Though the fublime produces the higheft fources of 
delight, yet its continuance p'alls. It is fo dazzling a 
light, that the eye is wearied with its contemplation. It 
is a found fo aftounding, that the ear can bear it but for 
a fhort time. Beauty, on the other hand', having con- 
neftion with all the feelings of our corporeal nature, has 
“ infinite variety” which “ cuftotn cannot ftale.”_ A fub¬ 
lime pidure delights by one grand train of aflociation; a 
beautiful one by a thoufand different kinds of aflbcia¬ 
tions. 
9 C 
Man 
