In some objects, greatness and elevation concur to make a complicated impression. The Alps and the pike of Teneriff are proper examples; with the following difference, that in the former greatness seems to prevail, elevation in the latter.
The emotions raised by great and by elevated objects, are clearly distinguishable, not only in the internal feeling, but even in their external expressions. A great object dilates the breast, and makes the spectator endeavour to enlarge his bulk. This is remarkable in persons, who, neglecting delicacy in behaviour, give way to nature without reserve. In describing a great object, they naturally expand themselves by drawing in air with all their force. An elevated object produces a different expression. It makes the spectator stretch upward and stand a tiptoe. Great and elevated objects considered with relation to the emotions produced by them, are termed grand and sublime. Grandeur and sublimity have a double signification. They generally signify the quality or circumstance in the objects by which the emotions are produced; sometimes the emotions themselves.
Whether magnitude singly in an object of sight, have the effect to produce an emotion distinguishable from the beauty or deformity of that object; or whether it be only a circumstance modifying the beauty or deformity, is an intricate question. If magnitude produce an emotion of its own distinguishable from others, this emotion must either be pleasant or painful. But this seems to be contradicted by experience; for magnitude, as it would appear, contributes in some instances to beauty, in some to deformity. A hill, for instance, is agreeable, and a great mountain still more so. But an ugly monster, the larger, the more horrid. Greatness in an enemy, great power, great courage, serve but to augment our terror. Hath not this an appearance as if grandeur were not an emotion distinct from all others, but only a circumstance that qualifies beauty and deformity?
I am notwithstanding satisfied, that grandeur is an emotion, not only distinct from all others, but in every circumstance pleasant. These propositions must be examined separately. I begin with the former, and shall endeavour to prove, that magnitude produceth a peculiar emotion distinguishable from all others. Magnitude is undoubtedly a real property of bodies, not less than figure, and more than colour. Figure and colour, even in the same body, produce separate emotions, which are never misapprehended one for the other. Why should not magnitude produce an emotion different from both? That it has this effect, will be evident from a plain experiment of two bodies, one great and one little, which produce different emotions, though they be precisely the same as to figure and colour. There is indeed an obscurity in this matter, occasioned by the following circumstance, that the grandeur and beauty of the same object mix so intimately as scarce to be distinguished. But the beauty of colour comes in happily to enable us to make the distinction. For the emotion of colour unites with that of figure, not less intimately than grandeur does with either. Yet the emotion of colour is distinguishable from that of figure; and so is grandeur, attentively considered: though when these three emotions are blended together, they are scarce felt as different emotions.
Next, that grandeur is an emotion in every circumstance pleasant, appears from the following considerations. Magnitude or greatness, abstracted from all other circumstances, swells the heart and dilates the mind. We feel this to be a pleasant effect; and we feel no such effect in contracting the mind upon little objects. This may be illustrated by considering grandeur in an enemy. Beauty is an agreeable quality, whether in a friend or enemy; and when the emotion it raiseth is mixed with resentment against an enemy, it must have the effect to moderate our resentment. In the same manner, grandeur in an enemy, undoubtedly softens and blunts our resentment. Grandeur indeed may indirectly and by reflection produce an unpleasant effect. Grandeur in an enemy, like courage, may increase our fear, when we consider the advantage he hath over us by this quality. But the same indirect effect may be produced by many other agreeable qualities, such as beauty or wisdom.
The magnitude of an ugly object, serves, it is true, to augment our horror or aversion. But this proceeds not from magnitude separately considered. It proceeds from the following circumstance, that in a large object a great quantity of ugly parts are presented to view.
The same chain of reasoning is so obviously applicable to sublimity, that it would be losing time to show the application. Grandeur therefore and sublimity shall hereafter be considered both of them as pleasant emotions.
The pleasant emotion raised by large objects, has not escaped the poets:
———— He doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus; and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs.
Julius Cæsar, act I. sc. 3.
Cleopatra. I dreamt there was an Emp’ror Antony;
Oh such another sleep, that I might see
But such another man!
His face was as the heav’ns: and therein stuck
A sun and moon, which kept their course and lighted
The little O o’ th’ earth.
His legs bestrid the ocean, his rear’d arm
Crested the world.
Antony and Cleopatra, act 5. sc. 3.