Imatges de pàgina
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portant, requires figures as great as the life. The resemblance of these feelings is in reality so strong, that elevation, in a figurative sense, is observed to have the same effect, even externally, with real ele

vation.

K. Henry. This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

Henry V. Act IV. Sc. 8.

The resemblance in feeling between real and figurative grandeur, is humorously illustrated by Addison in criticising upon English tragedy: "The ordinary method of making an hero, is to "clap a huge plume of feathers upon his head, " which rises so high, that there is often a greater length from his chin to the top of his head, than "to the sole of his foot. One would believe, that "we thought a great man and a tall man the same "thing. As these superfluous ornaments upon the "head make a great man, a princess generally re"ceives her grandeur from those additional incum"brances that fall into her tail: I mean the broad "sweeping train, that follows her in all her motions; "and finds constant employment for a boy, who "stands behind her to open and spread it to advan"tage." The Scythians, impressed with the fame. of Alexander, were astonished when they found him a little man.

A gradual progress from small to great is no less remarkable in figurative, than in real grandeur or elevation. Every one must have observed the delightful effect of a number of thoughts or senti

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ments, artfully disposed like an ascending series, and making impressions deeper and deeper: such disposition of members in a period is termed a cli

max.

Within certain limits, grandeur and sublimity produce their strongest effects, which lessen by excess as well as by defect. This is remarkable in grandeur and sublimity taken in their proper sense: tie grandest emotion that can be raised by a visible object, is where the object can be taken in at one view; if so immense as not to be comprehended but in parts, it tends rather to distract than satisfy the mind:* in like manner, the strongest emotion produced by elevation, is where the object is seen distinctly; a greater elevation lessens in appearance the object, till it vanishes out of sight with its pleasant emotion. The same is equally remarkable in figurative grandeur and elevation, which shall be handled together, because, as observed above, they are scarce distinguishable. Sentiments may be so strained as to become obscure, or to exceed the capacity of the human mind: against such license of imagination, every good writer will be upon his guard. And therefore it is of greater im

. portance to observe, that even the true sublime may be carried beyond that pitch which produces the highest entertainment: we are undoubtedly susceptible of a greater elevation than can be inspired by human actions, the most heroic and magnanimous; witness what we feel from Milton's description of superior beings : yet every man must be sensible of a more constant and sweet elevation,

* It is justly observed by Addison, that perhaps a man would have been more astonished with the majestic air that appeared in one of Lysippus's statues of Alexander, though no bigger than the life, than he might have heen with Mount Athos, had it been cut into the figure of the hero, according to the proposal of Phidias, with a river in one hand, and a city in the other. Spectator, No. 415.

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when the history of his own species is the subject; he enjoys an elevation equal to that of the greatest hero, of an Alexander or a Cæsar, of a Brutus or an Epaminondas; he accompanies these heroes in their sublimest sentiments and most hazardous exploits, with a magnanimity equal to theirs; and finds it no stretch, to preserve the same tone of mind, for hours together, without sinking. The case is not the same in describing the actions or qualities of superior beings: the reader's imagination cannot keep pace with that of the poet; the mind, unable to support itself in a strained elevation, falls as if from a height; and the fall is immoderate, like the elevation: where that effect is not felt, it must be prevented by some obscurity in the conception, which frequently attends the description of unknown objects. Hence the St. Francises, St. Dominics, and other tutelary saints, among the Roman Catholics. A mind unable to raise itself to the Supreme being, self-existent and eternal, or to support itself in a strained elevation, finds itself more at ease in using the intercession of some saint whose piety and penances while on earth are supposed to have made him a favourite in heaven.

A strained elevation is attended with another inconvenience, that the author is apt to fall suddenly as well as the reader; because it is not a little difficult, to descend sweetly and easily from such elevation, to the ordinary tone of the subject. The following passage is a good illustration of that observation:

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Sæpe etiam immensum cælo venit agmep aquarum,
Et fædam glomerant tempestatem imbribus atris
Conlectæ ex alto nubes. Ruit arduus æther,
Et pluvia ingenti sata læta boumque labores
Diluit. Inplentur fussæ, et cava flumina crescunt
Cum sonitu, fervetque fretis spirantibus æquor.

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Ipse Pater, media nimborum in nocte, coruscâ
Fulmina molitur dextra. Quo maxima motu
Terra tremit: fugêre feræ ! et mortalia corda
Per gentes humilis stravit pavor. Ille flagranti
Aut Atho, aut Rodopen, aut alta Ceraunia telo
Dejicit: ingeminant austri, deñsisimus imber.

Virg. Georg. l. 1.

In the description of a storm, to figure Jupiter throwing down huge mountains with his thunderbolts, is hyperbolically sublime, if I may use the expression: the tone of mind produced by that image is so distant from the tone produced by a thick shower of rain, that the sudden transition must be unpleasant.

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Objects of sight that are not remarkably great nor high, scarce raise any emotion of grandeur or of sublimity: and the same holds in other objects; for we often find the mind roused and animated, without being carried to that height. This differ ence may be discerned in many sorts of music, as well as in some musical instruments: a kettle-drum rouses, and a hautboy is animating; but neither of them inspires an emotion of sublimity: revenge animates the mind in a considerable degree; but I think it never produceth an emotion that can be termed grand or sublime; and I shall have occasion afterward to observe, that no disagreeable passion ever has that effect. I am willing to put this to the test, by placing before my reader a most spirited picture of revenge: it is a speech of Antony wailing over the body of Cæsar:

Wo to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophecy,

(Which like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue,)

A curse shall light upon the kind of men;
Domestic fury, and fierce civil strife,

Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;

Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile, when they behold
Their infants quarter'd by the hands of war.
All pity chok’d with custom of fell deeds,
And Cæsar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice,
Cry, Havock ! and let slip the dogs of war.

Julius Cesar, Act III. Sc: 4.

*

No desire is more universal than to be exalted and honoured: and upon that account chiefly are we ambitious of power, riches, titles, fame, which would suddenly lose their relish, did they not raise us above others, and command submission and deference ;* and it may be thought that our attachment to things grand and lofty proceeds from their connexion with our favourite passion. This connexion has undoubtedly an effect: but that the preference given to things grand and lofty must have a deeper root in human nature, will appear from considering, that many bestow their time upon low and trifling amusements, without having the least tincture of this favourite passion: yet these very persons talk the same language with the rest of mankind, and prefer the more elevated pleasures : they acknowledge a more refined taste, and are ashamed of their own as low and groveling. This sentiment, constant and universal, must be the work of nature; and it plainly indicates an original attachment in human nature to every object that elevates the mind: some men may have a greater relish for an object not of the highest rank; but

* Honestum per se esse expetendum indicant pueri, in quibus, ut in speculis, natura cernitur. Quanta studia decertantium sunt ! Quanta ipsa certamina! Ut illi efferuntur lætitia, cum vicerunt! Ut pudet victos! Ut se accusari nolunt! Ut cupiunt laudari! Quos illi labores non perferunt, ut æqualium principes sint! Cicero de finibus. Vol. I.

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