versation, he has acquired 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 innocence; 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 emotions from the use of these words, that we do from the colours which they express; and that from the permanence of these associations in a great variety of cases, he may apply the terms with sufficient propriety, either in sublime or beautiful description. As this is in reality the case, it seems to be a very strong confirmation of the opinion, that the beauty of such qualities arises from the associations we connect with them, and not from any original or independent beauty in the colours themselves.

CHAPTER IV.

Of Forms.

Of all material qualities, that which is most generally, and most naturally productive of the emotions of sublimity and beauty, is form. Other qualities may be separated from most objects, without destroying their nature; but the form of every material object, in a great measure constitutes its nature and essence, and cannot be destroyed, without destroying the individual subject to which it belongs. From whatever cause, therefore, the beauty of any material object proceeds, it is natural to ascribe it to the form, or to that quality

which most intimately belongs to the object, and constitutes its essence to our senses. The common opinion, therefore, undoubtedly is, that forms in themselves are beautiful; that there is an original and essential beauty in some particular forms; and that this quality is as immediately discernible in them, as the forms themselves.

Philosophers, however, have not been satisfied with this common opinion. The supposition of such an original and independent beauty in forms, has been found inconsistent with many phenomena, and some more general principle was wanted, under which the different facts upon this subject might be tolerably arranged. Many theories accordingly have been formed to account 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. 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 opinions. In all of them, I believe, there is something true to a certain extent, though I believe also, that they have arisen from a

partial view of the subject, and are inadequate 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 from this variety, but also, in innumerable cases, from the contrary nature of the forms, which, in fact, are beautiful. As no theory, besides, can possibly be maintained without some foundation in nature, the number of theories which have been produced 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, perhaps, be found to be equally applicable to the beauty or sublimity of forms: and, as far as I can judge, is free from the objections which may be stated both to the common and the philosophical opinions. In the observations which follow, I shall therefore 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 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 ascribe to them. The importance of the subject, 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, before 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 forms; and 2dly, The expressions of such qualities as arise from their being the subject or production of art. The first of these constitutes what may be called their NATURAL beauty; the second, what may be called their RELATIVE beauty. There is also another source of expression in such qualities from accidental association, and which perhaps may be termed their ACCIDENTAL beauty. Upon each of these sources of the beauty of forms, I shall offer some observations.

SECTION I.

Of the Natural Sublimity and Beauty of Forms.

PART I.

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 effect, by being expressive to us of qualities capable of exciting very strong emotions.

I.

1. The forms which distinguish bodies that are connected in our minds with ideas of danger or power, are in general sublime. There is scarcely any thing in inanimate nature more remarkably so, than all those forms which are appropriated to the instruments of war. The forms of cannon, mortars, &c. have all a character of this kind. Military ensigns, although approaching to very common and neglected 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 does not altogether destroy this effect: the sword, the spear, the javelin, the dagger, are still sublime forms, and enter with propriety into the sublimest descriptions either of poetry or painting.

2. The forms that in general distinguish bodies of great duration, and which of consequence 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. Nothing is more sublime than the form of rocks, which seem to be coëval with creation, and which all the convulsions of nature have not been able to destroy. The sublimest of all the mechanical arts is architecture, principally from the durableness of its productions; and these productions are in themselves sublime, in proportion to their antiquity, or the extent of their duration. The Gothic castle is still more sub