As the noise of troubled ocean when roll the waves on high, as the last peal of thundering heaven; such is the noise of battle.Though Cormacs' hundred bards were there, feeble were the voice of a hundred bards, to send the deaths to future times; for many were the deaths of the heroes, and wide poured the blood of the valiant." Fingal.

Analysis. Never were images more awfully sublime, employed to heighten the terror of a battle..

393. For the farther illustration of this subject, it is proper to remark, that all ideas of the solemn and awful kind, and even bordering on the terrible, tend greatly to assist the sublime: such as darkness, solitude, and silence.

Illus. 1. What are the scenes of nature that elevate the mind in the highest degree, and produce the sublime sensation? Not the gay landscape, the flowery field, or the flourishing city; but the hoary mountain, the solitary lake; the aged forest, and the torrent falling over the rock.

2. Hence, too, night-scenes are commonly the most sublime.— The firmament, when filled with stars, scattered in such vast numbers, and with such magnificent profusion, strikes the imagination with a more awful graudeur, than when we view it enlightened with all the splendour of the sun.

3. The deep sound of a great bell, or the striking of a great clock, are at any time grand; but, when heard amid the silence and stillness of the night, they become doubly so.

4. Darkness is very commonly applied for adding sublimity to all our ideas of the Deity. "He maketh darkness his pavillion; he dwelleth in the thick cloud."

So Milton:

How oft, amidst

Thick clouds and dark, does Heaven's all-ruling Sire
Choose to reside, his glory unobscured,

And, with the majesty of darkness, round
Circles his throne

Par. Lost, Book II. 263.

394. OBSCURITY, we are farther to remark, is not unfavorable to the sublime. Though it render the object indistinct, the impression, however, may be great; for as an ingenious author has well observed, it is one thing to make an idea clear, and another to make it affecting to the imagination; and the imagination may be strongly affected, and, in fact, often is so, by objects of which we have no clear conception. Illus. Thus we see, that almost all the descriptions given us of

the appearance of supernatural beings, carry some sublimity, though the conceptions which they afford as be confused and indistinct. Their sublimity arises from the ideas, which they always convey, of superior power and might, joined with an awful obscurity.

Example. We may see this fully exemplified in the following noble passage of the book of Job: "In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up: it stood still; but I could not discern the form thereof; an image was before my eyes; there was silence; and I heard a voice-shall mortal man be more just than God*?"

Scholium. No ideas, it is plain, are so sublime as those taken from the Supreme Being; the most unknown, but the greatest of all objects; the infinity of whose nature, and the eternity of whose duration, joined with the omnipotence of his power, though they surpass our conceptions, yet exalt them to the highest. In general, all objects that are greatly raised above us, or far removed from us, either in space or in time, are apt to strike us as great. Our viewing them as through the mist of distance or antiquity, is favourable to the impressions of their sublimity.

395. As obscurity, so disorder too, is very compatible with grandeur; nay, frequently heightens it. Few things that are strictly regular, and methodical, appear sublime.

Illus. We see the limits on every side; we feel ourselves confined; there is no room for the mind's exerting any great effort. Exact proportion of parts, though it enters often into the beautiful, is much disregarded in the sublime. A great mass of rocks, thrown together by the hand of nature, with wildness and confusion, strike the mind with more grandeur than if they had been adjusted to one another with the most accurate symmetry.

Obs. In the feeble attempts which human art can make towards producing grand objects, (teeble, doubtless, in comparison with the physical powers of nature), greatness of dimensions always constitutes a principal part. No pile of building can convey an idea of sublimity, unless it be ample and lofty. There is too in architecture, what is called greatness of manner; which seems chiefly to arise from presenting the object to us in one full point of view; so that it shall make its impression whole, entire, and undivided, upon the mind. A Gothic cathedral raises ideas of grandeur in our minds, by its size, its height, its awful obscurity, its strength, its antiquity, and its durability.

396. There still remains to be mentioned one class of sublime objects, which may be called the moral, os * Job, IV. 15.

sentimental sublime; arising from certain exertions of the human mind; from certain affections, and actions, of our fellow-creatures.

Illus. These will be found to be all, or chiefly of that class, which comes under the head of magnanimity, c heroism; and they produce an effect extremely similar to what is produced by the view of grand objects in nature; filling the mind with admiration, and elevating it above itself.

Example 1.

Somerset. Ah! Warwick, Warwick, wert thou as we are,
We might recover all our loss again.

The Queen from France hath brought a puissant power;
Even now we heard the news. Ah! could'st thou fly!

Warwick. Why then I would not fly.

Third Part of Henry VI. Act. V. Scene 2.

Analysis. Such a sentiment from a man expiring of his wounds, is truly heroic; and must elevate the mind to the greatest height. that can be done by a single expression.

Example 2. Porus, taken prisoner by Alexander, after a gallant defence, and asked, How he wished to be treated? answered, "Like a king."

Cæsar chiding the pilot, who was afraid to set out with him in a storm. "Quid times? Cæsarem vehis; is another good instance of this sentimental sublime.

Corol. Wherever, in some critical and high situation, we behold a man uncommonly intrepid, and resting upon himself; superior to passion and to fear; animated by some great principle to the contempt of popular opinion, of selfish interest, of dangers, or of death; there we are struck with a sense of the sublime. (See Scholia 2, Art. 419.)

397. High virtue is the most natural and fertile source of this moral sublimity. However, on some occasions, where virtue either has no place, or is but imperfectly displayed, yet if extraordinary vigour and force of mind be discovered, we are not insensible to a degree of grandeur in the character; and from the splendid conqueror, or the daring conspirator, whom we are far from approving, we cannot withold our admiration.

Example. The sublime in natural, and the sublime in moral objects, are brought before us in one view, and compared together, in the following beautiful passage of Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagination:

Look then abroad through nature; to the range

Of planets, suns, and adamantine spheres,
Wheeling, unshaken, through the void immense;
And speak, O man! does this capacious scene,
With half that kindling majesty, dilate

Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose
Refulgent, from the stroke of Cæsar's fate,
Amid the croud of patriots; and his arm
Aloft extending, like eternal Jove,

When guilt brings down the thunder; call'd aloud
On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel,
And bade the father of his country hail!

For lo! the tyrant prostrate on the dust;
And Rome again is free.-

Book I.

Scholia 1. We have now enumerated a variety of instances, both in inanimate objects and in human life, where the sublime appears. In all these instances, the emotion raised in us is of the same kind, although the objects that produce the emotion be of widely different kinds.

2. A question next arises, whether we are able to discover some one fundamental quality, in which all these different objects agree, and which is the cause of their producing an emotion of the same nature in our minds? Various hypotheses have been formed concerning this.

3. Some have imagined that amplitude or great extent, joined with simplicity, is either immediately, or remotely, the fundamental quality of whatever is sublime; but we have seen that amplitude is confined to one species of sublime objects; and cannot, without violent straining, be applied to them all.

4. Again, terror has been supposed the source of the sublime, and that no objects have this character but such as produce impressions of pain and danger. It is indeed true, that many terrible objects are highly sublime; and that grandeur does not refuse an alliance with the idea of danger. But then this seems to stretch the theory too far; for the sublime does not consist wholly in modes of danger, or of pain. The proper sensation of sublimity appears to be distinguishable from the sensation of either of these; and, on several occasions, to be entirely separated from them.

5. In many grand objects, there is no coincidence with terror at all; as in the magnificent prospect of wide extended plains, and of the starry firmament; or in the moral dispositions and sentiments, which we view with high admiration; and in many painful and terrible objects also, it is clear, there is no sort of grandeur. The amputation of a limb, or the bite of a snake, are exceedingly terrible; but are destitute of all claim whatever to sublimity.

6. Mighty force or power, whether accompanied with terror or not, whether employed in protecting or in alarming us, has perhaps a better title than any thing that has yet been mentioned, to be the fundamental quality of the sublime; as, after the review which we have taken, there does not occur any sublime object, into the idea of

which, power, or strength, or force, does not enter, either directly, or, at least, intimately associated with the idea, by leading our thoughts to some astonishing power, as concerned in the production of the object.

CHAPTER V.

THE SUBLIME IN WRITING.

398. HAVING treated of grandeur or sublimity, in external objects, the way seems now to be cleared, for treating, with more advantage, of the description of such objects; or, of what is called the sublime in writing. The foundation of the sublime in composition, must always be laid in the nature of the object described.

Illus. 1. 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.

2. 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. If his own feeling be languid, he can never inspire us with any strong emotion. Instances, which are extremely necessary on this subject, will clearly shew the importance of all the requisites which we have just now mentioned.

399. It is, generally speaking, among the most ancient authors, that we are to look for the most striking instances of the sublime. The early ages of the world, and the rude unimproved state of society, are peculiarly favourable to the strong emotions of sublimity.

Illus. The genius of men is then much turned to admiration and astonishment. Meeting with many objects, to them new and