PART III.

CHAP. I.

Of the Sublime and Pathetic.

Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepar'd
To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend,
From wing to wing, and half enclose him round,
With all his peers: attention held them mute.
Thrice he essay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears such as angels weep burst forth.

Throughout the poem, the infernal excite more interest than the celestial personages, because their passions and affections are more violent and energetic.

45. We often feel a sort of sympathy with our own past sufferings; which casts, over our minds, a grateful tinge of melancholy, not unlike that produced by the fictitious distress of tragedy or pathetic narrative. Hence, to delight, or gratify oneself by indulging sorrow*, is an expression often employed by one of the greatest masters of human nature; and one of the few general maxims or sentences, that he has left, is to the same effect t; nor is there any person of common sensibility, who has not, at some moments of his life, felt the propriety of it. We love to retrace images of affliction, and scenes of distress; in which ourselves have borne a part; and of which the recollection fills the mind with

για τερψασθαι.

-μετα γας τε και αλγεσι τεςπεται ανης.Od. Ο. 399.

sentiments, at once tender, and pleasing: but it PART III. is only from past affliction, that we feel this plea

CHAP. I.

blime and Pathetic.

sure; and only from that kind of past affliction, Of the Suunder the pressure of which, we have felt and displayed sentiments honourable to ourselves; the remembrance of which exalts and expands, while it melts and softens the mind. The pain arising from wounds suffered in a battle, or grief for the loss of friends, who had fallen in it, might afterwards be remembered with sentiments of grateful, though melancholy reflection: but the sufferings of ignominious punishments, or the sorrows for the loss of accomplices condemned for disgraceful crimes, do not, probably, afford any pleasing materials for future recollections. The pleasures and pains of sympathy are therefore precisely the same, in their principle, when they relate to ourselves, as when they relate to others.

46. Every energetic exertion of great and commanding power; whether of body or mind; whether physical or moral; or whether it be employed to preserve or destroy, will necessarily excite corresponding sympathies; and, of course, appear sublime: but, in all moral or political power, the sublimity is in the mental or personal energy exerted, and not in the power possessed: for a person of the meanest character and capa

CHAP. I.

Pathetic.

PART III. city; a Claudius, a Nero, or a Vitellius, may
possess the most unlimited power; and yet be an
Of the Su- object of contempt, even to those, who are sub-
blime and ject to it. A despot may command the actions
of men, but cannot command their sentiments or
opinions: wherefore, as Longinus observes, it is
not the tyrant diffusing terror, whose character is
sublime; but the man, whose exalted soul looks
down upon empire, and scorns the transitory pos-
sessions, which it can bestow*.
He displays

real energy
of mind; and, with that energy, we
sympathize; in whatever manner, or to whatever
end, it be exerted. The tyrant therefore may
show it, as well as the philosopher; and, in that
case, the character of the tyrant will be sublime;
but not to those, who are under the actual im-
pression of the terror, which he inspires: for it is
as utterly impossible for a man, at the same time,
to sympathize with the effect and the cause, as it
is for him to fill his cup, at the same time, from
the mouth and the source of the river. Fear is
the most humiliating and depressing of passions;
and, when a person is under its influence, it is as
unnatural for him to join in any sentiments of
exultation with that which inspires it, as it would
be for a man to share in the triumph or the feast

* S. vii.

of the lion, of which he was himself the victim PART III.

47. All sublime feelings are, according to the principles of Longinus, which I have here endeavoured to illustrate and confirm, feelings of exultation and expansion of the mind, tending to rapture and enthusiasm; and whether they be excited by sympathy with external objects, or arise from the internal operations of the mind, they are still of the same nature. In grasping at in-finity, the mind exercises the powers, before noticed, of multiplying without end; and, in so doing, it expands and exalts itself, by which means its feelings and sentiments become sublime.

The same effects result from contemplating all vast and immense objects; such as very spacious plains, lakes, or forests; extensive ranges of extremely high mountains; mighty rivers; unbounded seas; and, above all, the endless expanse of unknown vacuity.

48. Upon a similar principle all works of great labour, expence and magnificence are sublime; such as the wall of China; the colonnades of Palmyra; the pyramids of Egypt; the aqueducts of Rome; and, in short, all buildings of very great dimensions, or objects of very great richness and splendor: for, in contemplating

CHAP. I.

of the Sublime and

Pathetic.

CHAP. 1.

Of the Su

Pathetic.

PART III. them, the mind applies the ideas of the greatness of exertion, necessary to produce such works, to the works themselves; and therefore feels them blime and to be grand and sublime, as works of man; though, if compared with the works of nature, their dimensions may be small and contemptible. Great wealth, too, is so nearly allied to great power, that the contemplation of its splendor equally exalts and expands the imagination. Phidias's colossal statue of Jupiter in ivory and gold might have been equally well executed in plaster gilt; but its effect upon the spectators would have been very different, as the priests and hierophants of Elis well knew. Every person, who has attended the celebration of high mass at any considerable ecclesiastical establishment, must have felt how much the splendor and magnificence of the Roman catholic worship. tends to exalt the spirit of devotion, and to inspire the soul with rapture and enthusiasm. Not only the impressive melody of the vocal and instrumental music, and the imposing solemnity of the ceremonies, but the pomp and brilliancy of the sacerdotal garments, and the rich and costly decorations of the altar, raise the character of religion, and give it an air of dignity and majesty unknown to any of the reformed churches. Even in dramatic exhibitions, we find that splendid