because the more perfect is the Imitation; and Imitation fuppofes no Reality. If we really faw the Earl of Effex's Head ftruck off on the Stage, no Body would go there for Pleasure, which fhews that we are fe cretly pleafed the tragic Diftrefs is not Reality. Chufe a Day on which to reprefent the most sublime and affecting Tragedy which we have; appoint the most favourite Actors; fpare no Coft upon the Scenes and Decorations; unite the greatest Efforts of Poetry, Painting, and Mufic; and when you have collected your Audience, juft at the Moment when 'their Minds are erect with Expectation, let it be reported that a State Criminal of high Rank is on the Point of being executed in the adjoining Square; in a Moment the Emptinefs of the Theatre would demonftrate the comparative Weaknefs of the imitative Arts, and proclaim the Triumph of the real Sympathy.'

But here he does not obferve that there is an adventitious Motive: Curiofity would begin to operate, and our Love of Novelty would hurry us away to a Sight uncommon. But chufe a Cart for Tyburn, fpare no Pains in filling it with Malefactors, &c. then tell the Audience of it; or tell them that an Houfe is on Fire, and then we fhall fee the Triumph of imitated Woe over real Sympathy. The Fact is this: in real Diftrefs we have a Joy in finding an Aptitude in ourfelves to indulge the Feelings of Humanity; in fictitious Reprefentations, we have the fame Pleafure, and the additional Delight of feeing beautiful Imitation, and confidering that the Diftrefs is not real. It is upon thefe Principles that the Abbe du Bos and Fontenelle have juftly accounted for Tragic Pleasure. In talking of Imitation, our Authof fays, When the Object reprefented in Poetry or Painting is fuch, as we could have had no Defire of feeing in Reality, then I may be fure the Pleafure is owing to the Power of Imitation; as a Cottage, a Dunghill, &c. But when the Object is fuch as we should run to fee if real, we may rely

upon

upon it, that the Power of the Poem or the Picture is more owing to the Thing itself, than any Confideration of the Skill of the Imitator, however excellent.' But furely in the imitative Arts we can never lofe the Idea of Imitation. If the Object be inconfiderable, or even odious, it will please in a juft Reprefentation; and if the Object be fublime or beautiful, it will please the more on this Account, if the Imitation be juft; but if the Imitation be defective, we revolt from it, notwithstanding the Excellence of the Original. For Example: no Body will go to the Theatre to see an Actor of the meaner Clafs; and yet let Hogarth give a Portrait of him, and we shall all admire the Strokes of his Pencil. On the other Hand, we all go to fee Garrick, and yet if an Artist fhould draw him ill, we fhould unanimously reject the Piece; but when Hogarth presents him in Richard, we acknowledge Garrick's Face, his Eyes, his Brow, &c. and though the Idea of Garrick if that Attitude ex. cites an agreeable Recollection, yet it is the Imitation that is uppermoft in our Thoughts, and which we principally admire. Our Author in the next Place takes Notice of Ambition; and then adds, that having confidered the Paffions, he fhall proceed to examine into the Things that caufe the Sublime and Beautiful. With regard to the Sublime, he fays, the Paffion raised by it is Aftonifhment; and Aftonishment he defines That State of the Soul in which all its Motions are fufpended with fome Degree of Hor ror.' But Astonishment is perhaps that State of the Soul, when the Powers of the Mind are fufpended with Wonder. Horror may tincture it, and Love may enliven it. As for Inftance: when we are told, afflavit Deus et diffipantur, He blew with his Wind, and they were fcattered,' we are fufpended with Wonder, and are aftonished at fuch exalted Power, not without a Mixture of Horror: but when we read, God faid, Let there be Light, and there was Light;"

we are here again aftonished at the Obedience paid to the Mandate, but we are free from Horror, and the only Paffions that come in to increase the Wonder that expands our Imaginations, are Love and pious Admiration. The Effect of the Sublime is, as Longinus has told us, to enlarge the Mind with vaft Conceptions, and to tranfport it with a noble Pleafure beyond itself. It was in reading that Defcription that, as Boileau tells us, the Prince of Conde cried out, voila le fublime; voila fon veritable charactere: That's the Sublime; that's the true Character of it.' In Fact, Longinus's Account of the Sublime is, we apprehend, very juft: it is not built on any fingle Paffion; though they all may ferve to enflame that pathetic Enthufiafm, which, in Conjunction with an exalted Thought, ferves to hurry away the Mind with great Rapidity from itself. Terror is therefore a great Addition, and in like Manner fo are all other Pafions, Grief, Love, Rage, Indignation, Ambi ion, Compaffion, &c. Our Author adds, that whatever is Terrible is Sublime: the Gallows, a red-hot Iron, &c. are Terrible, but not Sublime the Terrible will exalt the Sublime where it is, but cannot create it where it is not; that is to fay, they muft fubfift separately.

Nero fetting Fire to Rome, and Queen Mary burning Heretics in Smithfield, cannot convey to any fenfible Mind the fainteft Idea of the Sublime, tho' we imagine it must be allowed that they raife Horror in a very powerful Degree. Obfcurity, our Author obferves, increates the Sublime, which is certainly very juft; but from thence erroneoufly infers, that Clearness of Imagery is unneceffary to affect the Paffions; but furely nothing can move but what gives Ideas to the Mind, and it is thus that even Mufic operates by recalling Images by Means of Sounds, which fet the Imagination at Work with all her various Combinations, Our Author pursues his

Thought

Thought ftill further, and combats the Opinion of the Abbe du Bos, viz. that Painting has the Advantage over Poetry, because it prefents its Objects more clearly and diftinctly. This Notion he thinks not true, but furely the Reafon he gives is not a very good one he gives the Preference to Poetry on Account of its Obfcurity; whereas it should be on Account of its greater Perfpicuity, its Amplifications, and its being at Liberty to felect a greater Variety of Circumstances, in order to make its Exhibitions more vivid and ftriking. If a Painter was to give a Portrait of Satan as reprefented in the following Lines of Milton,

He above the reft
In Shape and Gefture proudly eminent
Stood like a Tower, his Form had yet not loft
All its original Brightness, nor appeared
Lefs than Archangel ruin'd, and th' Excess
Of Glory obfcur'd; as when the Sun new ris'n
Looks through the horizontal misty Air
Shorn of his Beams: or from behind the Moon
In dim Eclipfe difaftrous Twilight sheds

On Half the Nations; and with Fear of Change
Perplexes Monarchs.

He could never give an Idea of the Wonderful Stature, nor could he compare him with a Tower, the Sun, the Moon, nor upon the whole would he bring together that Combination of fublime Images, which, inftead of obfcuring, ferve to illuftrate and heighten the Colouring. He proceeds in the next Place to mention Privation as a Source of the Sublime, as when the Poet fays, Along the wafte Dominions of the Dead.' And he enumerates other Sources, as Vaftness in any Object, Infinity, Succeffion and Uniformity of Parts in Building, or any Object in Nature. Under the laft Head he makes a very ingenious Remark, when he obferves that a VOL. III. Succeffion

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Succeffion of uniform Parts creates a Kind of artificial Infinite, and this, he adds, may be the Caufe why a Rotund has such a noble Effect in Building; which perhaps is a better Reafon than Mr. Addifon's, who fays, It is because in the Rotund at one Glance you take in Half the Building.' Here our Author might have allowed a Sublime without Terror; for we apprehend Infinity is not fo highly pleafing to the Soul of Man, on account of any Horror attending it, but on account of that ftrong progreffive Motion of the Mind, which cannot reft contented with what it has grafped, but must be for ever urging on to fomething at a Distance from its Power, and as it were with Thoughts beyond the Reaches of our Souls. Difficulty comes in next, as a Promoter of the Sublime; as likewife Magnificence, Light, and Colour; and with regard to the last he enumerates a strong Red, Black, Brown, deep Purple, and the like, as Caufes of the Sublime. He very juftly confiders the Sounds of Cataracts, Storms, Thunder, Artillery, as the Causes of great Impreffions: and he alfo finds the Sublime in low, tremulous, and intermitting Sounds, but refers it fulely to Terror: when Macbeth with a low Voice fays, I dare do all that may become a Man; who dares do more is none;' we apprehend there is no Terror in this Speech, but we are pleased with the Poet's noble Conception of the Dignity of human Nature. He next finds the Sublime in the Cries of Animals. That depends however upon the Rank we have given in our Imaginations to the different Animals, though the confufed Cry of any of them in a still folemn Night, when the Mind is already impressed with Awe, will help to heighten our Affections; so that though they do not cause the Sublime, they may help to increase it by thePaffions which they agitate. He proceeds to look for the Sublime in Bitters and in Stenches: but the bitter Cup of Mifery has in it nothing Sublime, but de

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