nature? What advantage do we de- was the first that attempted a regular rive from what has been said? How inquiry into the sources of the pleasures have critics been represented? Why of taste; and under what heads has are not such prefaces calculated to he reduced them? Of his speculations give a very favourable idea of the on this subject what is remarked; and genius of the author? Upon what sup- of what has he the merit? Why have position do the declamations against not very considerable advances been criticism commonly proceed? How made since his time, in this part of does it appear that this is not true? philosophical criticism? What is a very How is this illustrated? Why will the difficult task; and when do we find number of incompetent critics always ourselves at a loss? How is this illusbe great; and what follows? What trated? Of the efficient and final cause more plausible objection may be formed of these sensations, what is observed; against criticism? According to the and, on entering on this subject, what principles laid down in the last lecture, can we not avoid? What remark folto whom must the last appeal in every lows? Without what might the neceswork of taste be made; and why? sary purposes of life have been abunWith respect to this, what is observed? dantly answered? Of this additional How is this observation illustrated? In embellishment and glory, what is obsuch cases, of the public, and of true served? By whom, and in what lancriticism, what is said? The plays of guage, has this thought been happily Shakspeare, as dramatic compositions, preserved? contain the grossest violations of the With what does our author begin; laws of criticism; why then are they and why does he propose to treat it at admired? With what, in his writings, some length? What is the order in are we displeased; but in what does which he proposes to treat it? What he surpass all other writers? What two things does our author distinguish; does our author next proceed to ex- and what does he consider synonimous plain? How do taste and genius differ? terms? If there be any distinction How is this difference illustrated? between them, whence does it arise? What does genius, therefore, deserve What is it not easy to describe in to be considered; and what does it im- words? What effect does it produce? port? Which forms the critic; and What is the nature of the emotion that which the poet and orator? On the it produces; and from what is this common acceptation of the word genius, very distinguishable? In what does what is it proper to observe; and what the simplest form of external grandeur is it used to signify? How is this illus- appear? What examples are given? trated? Whence is this talent for ex- Though all vastness produces the imcelling received? Of the effect of art pression of sublimity, yet, what is to be and study, what is remarked? How is remarked? How is this illustrated? the remark illustrated, that genius is Whence arises the excessive grandeur more limited in its sphere of operation of the firmament; and of the ocean? than taste? What is said of a universal Wherever space is concerned, what is genius; and why? Why is this remark evident? How is this illustrated; and here made? As a genius for the fine hence, what follows? From this, what arts supposes taste, what is clear? have some imagined? Why is not our How is this illustrated, in reference to author of this opinion? What are ina poet or an orator? What remark fol- contestably grand objects? What illows, and when is this the case? Of lustration is given? In general, what the writings of Homer and Shakspeare, may we observe; and hence, what folas proofs of this observation, what is lows? When is a stream of water beausaid? As all human perfection is limit-tiful; and when sublime? From what ed, what, in all probability, is a law of animals do we draw sublime compariour nature? Having explained the sons? What remark follows? How has nature of taste, &c. what are we next the engagement of two great armies to consider? How extensive is the field always been considered; and why? that is here opened to us? Why need Farther to illustrate this subject, what not all these be examined fully? What is it proper to remark? "What are the is all that our author proposes? Who scenes of nature that elevate the mind in the highest degree, and produce the displayed, can we not withhold our adsublime sensation?" Hence, what fol-miration? Of the emotion raised in the lows; and what illustration is given? variety of instances enumerated, what For what purpose is darkness very is said? What question next arises? commonly applied? What illustrations What have some imagined to be the are given from David, from Milton, fundamental quality of the sublime; and from Virgil? For what are these but what have we seen? What theory passages here quoted? From what ob- is proposed by Mr. Burke; what is said servation does it appear that obscurity of it; and why? In what grand obis not conformable to the sublime? jects, or moral dispositions and sentiThus, in the descriptions of the ap-ments, is there no coincidence with pearances of supernatural beings, what terror; and in what terrible objects, do we see? From what does their sub- also, is there no sort of grandeur? limity arise? In what passage may we What is our author inclined to think is see this fully exemplified? Why are the fundamental quality of the subideas taken from the Supreme Being lime; and for what reason? 1. more sublime than any others? In 3. LECTURE IV. THE SUBLIME IN WRITING. HAVING treated of grandeur or sublimity in external objects, the way seems now to be cleared, for treating, with more advantage, of the descriptions of such objects; or, of what is called the sublime in writing. Though I may appear early to enter on the consideration of this subject; yet, as the sublime is a species of writing which de F pends less than any other on the artificial embellishments of rhetoric, it may be examined with as much propriety here, as in any subsequent part of the lectures. Many critical terms have unfortunately been employed in a sense too loose and vague; none more so, than that of the sublime. Every one is acquainted with the character of Cæsar's Commentaries, and of the style in which they are written: a style remarkably pure, simple, and elegant; but the most remote from the sublime of any of the classical authors. Yet this author has a German critic, Johannes Gulielmus Bergerus, who wrote no longer ago than the year 1720, pitched upon as the perfect model of the sublime, and has composed a quarto volume, entitled De naturali pulchritudine Orationis; the express intention of which is to show, that Cæsar's Commentaries contain the most complete exemplification of all Longi. nus's rules relating to sublime writing. This I mention as a strong proof of the confused ideas which have prevailed, concerning this subject. The true sense of sublime writing, undoubtedly, is such a description of objects, or exhibition of sentiments, which are in themselves of a sublime nature, as shall give us strong impressions of them. But there is another very indefinite, and therefore very improper, sense, which has been too often put upon it; when it is applied to signify any remarkable and distinguishing excellency of composition; whether it raise in us the ideas of grandeur, or those of gentleness, elegance, or any other sort of beauty. In this sense, Cæsar's Commentaries may, indeed, be termed sublime, and so may many sonnets, pastorals, and love elegies, as well as Homer's Iliad. But this evidently confounds the use of words, and marks no one species, or character, of composition whatever. I am sorry to be obliged to observe, that the sublime is too often used in this last and improper sense, by the celebrated critic Longinus, in his treatise on this subject. He sets out, indeed, with describing it in its just and proper meaning; as something that elevates the mind above itself, and fills it with high conceptions, and a noble pride. But from this view of it he frequently departs; and substitutes in the place of it, whatever, in any strain of composition, pleases highly. Thus, many of the passages which he produces as instances of the sublime, are merely elegant, without having the most distant relation to proper sublimity; witness Sappho's famous ode, on which he descants at considerable length. He points out five sources of the sublime. The first is boldness or grandeur in the thoughts; the second is, the pathetic; the third, the proper application of figures; the fourth, the use of tropes and beautiful expressions; the fifth, musical structure and arrangement of words. This is the plan of one who was writing a treatise of rhetoric, or of the beauties of writing in general; not of the sublime in particular. For of these five heads, only the two first have any peculiar relation to the sublime; boldness and grandeur in the thoughts, and in some instances, the pathetic, or strong exertions of passion; the other three, tropes, figures, and musical arrangement, have no more relation to the sublime, than to other kinds of good writing; perhaps less to the sublime, than to any other species whatever; because it requires less the assistance of ornament. From this it appears, that clear and precise ideas on this head are not to be expected from that writer. I would not, however, be understood, as if I meant, by this censure, to represent his treatise as of small value. I know no critic, ancient or modern, that discovers a more lively relish of the beauties of fine writing, than Longinus; and he has also the merit of being himself an excellent, and in several passages, a truly sublime, writer. But as his work has been generally considered as a standard on this subject, it was incumbent on me to give my opinion concerning the benefit to be derived from it. It deserves to be consulted, not so much for distinct instruction concerning the sublime, as for excellent general ideas concerning beauty in writing. I return now to the proper and natural idea of the sublime in composition. The foundation of it must always be laid in the nature of the object described. Unless it be such an object as, if presented to our eyes, if exhibited to us in reality, would raise ideas of that elevating, that awful and magnificent kind, which we call sublime; the description, however finely drawn, is not entitled to come under this class. This excludes all objects that are merely beautiful, gay, or elegant. In the next place, the object must not only, in itself, be sublime, but it must be set before us in such a light as is most proper to give us a clear and full impression of it; it must be described with strength, with conciseness, and simplicity. This depends, principally, upon the lively impression which the poet, or orator, has of the object which he exhibits; and upon his being deeply affected, and warmed, by the sublime idea which he would convey. Ifhis own feeling be languid, he can never inspire us with any strong emotion. Instances, which are extremely necessary on this subject, will clearly show the importance of all the requisites which I have just now mentioned. It is, generally speaking, among the most ancient authors, that we are to look for the most striking instances of the sublime. I am inclined to think that the early ages of the world, and the rude unimproved state of society, are peculiarly favourable to the strong emotions of sublimity. The genius of men is then much turned to admiration and astonishment. Meeting with many objects, to them new and strange, their imagination is kept glowing, and their passions are often raised to the utmost. They think, and express themselves boldly, and without restraint. In the progress of society, the genius and manners of men undergo a change more favourable to accuracy, than to strength or sublimity. Of all writings, ancient or modern, the sacred Scriptures afford us the highest instances of the sublime. The descriptions of the Deity, in them, are wonderfully noble; both from the grandeur of the object and the manner of representing it. What an assemblage, for instance, of awful and sublime ideas is presented to us, in that passage of the xviiith psalm, where an appearance of the Almighty is described: "In my distress I called upon the Lord; he heard my "voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him. Then, "the earth shook and trembled; the foundations also of the hills 66 were moved; because he was wroth. He bowed the heavens, and "came down, and darkness was under his feet; and he did ride up"on a Cherub, and did fly; yea, he did fly upon the wings of the "wind. He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round "about him were dark waters, and thick clouds of the sky." Here, agreeably to the principles established in the last lecture, we see with what propriety and success the circumstances of darkness and terror are applied for heightening the sublime. So, also, the prophet Habakkuk, in a similar passage: "He stood, and measured "the earth: he beheld, and drove asunder the nations. The ever"lasting mountains were scattered; the perpetual hills did bow; "his ways are everlasting. The mountains saw thee; and they "trembled. The overflowing of the water passed by. The deep "uttered his voice, and lifted up his hands on high." The noted instance given by Longinus, from Moses, "God said, "let there be light; and there was light;" is not liable to the censure which I passed on some of his instances, of being foreign to the subject. It belongs to the true sublime; and the sublimity of it arises from the strong conception it gives, of an exertion of power, producing its effect with the utmost speed and facility. A thought of the same kind is magnificently amplified in the following passage of Isaiah (chap. xliv. 24, 27, 28.) "Thus saith the Lord, thy Re"deemer, and he that formed thee from the womb: I am the Lord "that maketh all things, that stretcheth forth the heavens alone, that "spreadeth abroad the earth by myself that saith to the deep, be "dry, and I will dry up thy rivers; that saith of Cyrus, he is my shepherd, and shall perform all my pleasure; even, saying to Je"rusalem, thou shalt be built; and to the temple, thy foundation "shall be laid." There is a passage in the psalms, which deserves to be mentioned under this head: "God," says the psalmist, "stil"leth the noise of the seas, the noise of their waves, and the tu"mults of the people." The joining together two such grand objects, as the raging of the waters, and the tumults of the people, between which there is so much resemblance as to form a very natural association in the fancy, and the representing them both as subject, at one moment, to the command of God, produces a noble effect. ner. Homer is a poet, who, in all ages, and by all critics, has been greatly admired for sublimity; and he owes much of his grandeur to that native and unaffected simplicity which characterizes his manHis descriptions of hosts engaging; the animation, the fire, and rapidity, which he throws into his battles, present to every reader of the Iliad, frequent instances of sublime writing. His introduction of the gods, tends often to heighten, in a high degree, the majesty of his warlike scenes. Hence Longinus bestows such high and just commendations on that passage, in the xvth book of the Iliad, where Neptune, when preparing to issue forth into the engagement, is described as shaking the mountains with his steps, and driving his chariot along the ocean. Minerva, arming herself for fight in |