Page images
PDF
EPUB

sounds, so also are those of sublimity. And furthermore, as we found beauty connecting itself with certain kinds of motion, we find motion the basis likewise, in some of its modifications, of emotions of the sublime.

We often experience, for instance, emotions of sublimity in witnessing objects that move with great swiftness. This is one source of the feelings we have at beholding bodies of water rushing violently down a cataract. For the same reason, although there are undoubtedly other elements of the emotions we feel, the hurricane, that hastens onward with irresistible velocity, and lays waste whatever it meets, is sublime. And here also we find a cause of part of that sublime emotion which men have often felt, on seeing at a distance the electric fluid darting from the cloud to the earth, and at witnessing the sudden flight of a meteor.

§ 284. Indications of power accompanied by emotions of the sublime. The contemplation of mental objects, as well as of material, may be attended with this species of emotion. Power, for instance, is an attribute of mind, and not of matter, and the exhibition of it is frequently sublime. It is hardly necessary to say, in making this remark, that power is not anything which is addressed directly to the outward senses; but is rather presented to the mind as an object of inward suggestion. Nevertheless, the causes of this suggestion may exist in outward objects; and, whenever this is the case, the feelings with which we contemplate such objects are generally increased. In other words, whatever sublimity may characterize an object, if, in addition to its other sublime traits, it strongly suggests to us the idea of power, the sublime feeling is more or less heightened by this suggestion.

Nothing can be more sublime than a volcano, throwing out from its bosom clouds, and burning stones, and immense rivers of lava. And it is unquestionable, that the sublime emotion is attributable, in part, to the overwhelming indications of power which are thus given. An earthquake is sublime; not only in its mightier efforts of destruction, but hardly less so in those slighter tremblings and heavings of the earth, which indicate the foot

steps of power rather than of ruin. The ocean, greatly agitated with a storm, and tossing the largest navies as if in sport, possesses an increase of sublimity, on account of the more striking indications of power which it at such a time gives. The shock of large armies also, which concentrates the most terrible exhibition of human energy, is attended with an increased sublimity for the same reason. But in all these instances, as in most others, the sublime emotion cannot be ascribed solely to one cause; something is to be attributed to vast extent; something to the original effect of the brilliancy or darkness of colours; and something to feelings of dread and danger,

§ 285. Of the original or primary sublimity of objects.

If there be a connexion between the beautiful and sublime; if beauty, grandeur, and sublimity are only names for various emotions, not so much differing in kind as in degree, essentially the same views which were advanced in respect to beauty will hold here. It will follow, if the contemplation of some objects is attended with emotions of beauty, independently of associated feelings; or, in other words, if they have a primary or original beauty, that there are objects also originally sublime. Hence we may conclude, that whatever has great height, or great depth, or vast extent, or other attributes of the sublime, will be able to excite in us emotions of sublimity of themselves, independently of the subordinate or secondary aid arising from any connnected feelings.

It

286. Considerations in proof of the original sublimity of objects.

may be inferred, that there is such primary or original sublimity in some objects, not only in view of the connexion which has been stated to exist between the beautiful and sublime, but because it is no doubt agreeable to the common experience of men. But, in resting the proposition (where undoubtedly it ought to rest) on experience, we must inquire, as in former chapters, into the feelings of the young. And this for the obvious reason, that, when persons are somewhat advanced in it is difficult to separate the primary from the secondary or associated sublimity. They have then become inex

age,

tricably mingled together. Now take a child, and place him suddenly on the shores of the ocean, or in full sight of darkly wooded mountains of great altitude, or before the clouds, and fires, and thunders of volcanoes; and, in most cases, he will be filled with sublime emotions; his mind will swell at the perception; it will heave to and fro like the ocean itself in a tempest. His eye, his countenance, his gestures, will indicate a power of internal feeling, which the limited language he can command is unable to express. This may well be stated as a fact, because it has been frequently noticed by those who are competent to observe.

Again, if a person can succeed in conveying to a child, by means of words, sublime ideas of whatever kind, similar emotions will be found to exist, although generally in a less degree than when objects are directly presented to the senses.

There is an incident in the life of Sir William Jones which will serve to illustrate this statement. "In his fifth year, as he was one morning turning over the leaves of a Bible in his mother's closet, his attention was forcibly arrested by the sublime description of the angel in the tenth chapter of the Apocalypse; and the impression which his imagination received from it was never effaced. At a period of mature judgment, he considered the passage as equal in sublimity to any in the inspired writers, and far superior to any that could be produced from mere human compositions; and he was fond of retracing and mentioning the rapture which he felt when he first read it." The passage referred to is as follows. "And I saw another mighty angel come down from heaven, clothed with a cloud; and a rainbow was upon his head, and his face was as it were the sun, and his feet as pillars of fire."*

§ 287. Influence of association on emotions of sublimity. Granting, therefore, that sublime emotions are in part original, still it is unquestionably true that a considerable share of them is to be attributed to association. As an illustration, we may refer to the effects of sounds. When

* Teignmouth's Life of Sir William Jones, Am. ed., page 14.

a sound suggests ideas of danger, as the report of artillery and the howling of a storm; when it calls up recollections of mighty power, as the fall of a cataract and the rumbling of an earthquake, the emotion of sublimity which we feel is greatly increased by such suggestions. Few simple sounds are thought to have more of sublimity than the report of a cannon; but how different, how much greater the strength of feeling than on other occasions, whenever we hear it coming to us from the fields of actual conflict! Many sounds, which are in themselves inconsiderable, and are not much different from many others to which we do not attach the character of sublimity, become highly sublime by association. There is frequently a low, feeble sound preceding the coming of a storm, which has this character.

[ocr errors]

'Along the woods, along the moorish fens,
Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm,
Resounding long in fancy's listening ear."
THOMPSON'S Winter.

It is sometimes the case, that people, whose sensibilities are much alive to thunder, mistake for it some common sounds, such as the noise of a carriage or the rumbling of a cart. While they are under this mistake they feel these sounds as sublime; because they associate with them all those ideas of danger and of mighty power which they customarily associate with thunder. The hoot of the owl at midnight is sublime chiefly by association; also the scream of the eagle, heard amid rocks and deserts. The latter is particularly expressive of fierce and lonely independence; and both are connected in our remembrance with some striking poetical passages.

CHAPTER V.

EMOTIONS OF THE LUDICROUS.

288. General nature of emotions of the ludicrous.

IN prosecuting the general subject of emotions, we are next to consider another well-known class, which are of

a character somewhat peculiar, viz., emotions of the ludi

crous.

It is difficult to give a precise definition of this feeling, although the same may be said of it as in respect to emotions of beauty, that it is a pleasant or delightful one. But the pleasure which we experience receives a peculiar modification, and one which cannot be fully conveyed in words, in consequence of our perception of some incongruity in the person or thing which is the cause of it.— In this case, as in many other inquiries in mental philosophy, we are obliged to rely chiefly on our own consciousness and our knowledge of what takes place in ourselves.

289. Occasions of emotions of the ludicrous.

It may, however, assist us in the better understanding of them, if we say something of the occasions on which the emotions of the ludicrous are generally found to arise. And, among other things, it is exceedingly clear, that this feeling is never experienced, except when we notice something, either in thoughts, or in outward objects and actions, which is unexpected and uncommon. That is to

say, whenever this emotion is felt, there is always an unexpected discovery by us of some new relations. But then it must be observed, that the feeling in question does not necessarily exist in consequence of the discovery of such new relations merely. Something more is necessary, as may be very readily seen.

Thus we are sometimes, in the physical sciences, presented with unexpected and novel combinations of the properties and qualities of bodies. But whenever we discover in those sciences relations in objects, which were not only unknown, but unsuspected, we find no emotion of ludicrousness, although we are very pleasantly surprised. Again, similes, metaphors, and other like figures of speech imply in general some new and unexpected relations of ideas. It is this trait in them which gives them their chief force. But when employed in serious compositions, they are of a character far from being ludi

crous.

Hence we infer, that emotions of ludicrousness do not exist on the discovery of new and unexpected relations,

« PreviousContinue »