The foregoing observation leads us naturally to consider grandeur and sublimity in a figurative sense, and as applicable to the fine arts. Hitherto I have considered these terms in their proper meaning, as applicable to objects of sight only: and I thought it of importance, to bestow some pains upon that article; because, generally speaking, the figurative sense of a word is derived from its proper sense; which will be found to hold in the present subject. Beauty in its original signification, is confined to objects of sight. But as many other objects, intellectual as well as moral, raise emotions resembling that of beauty, the resemblance of the effects prompts us naturally to extend the term beauty to these objects. This equally accounts for the terms grandeur and sublimity taken in a figurative sense. Every emotion, from whatever cause proceeding, that resembles an emotion of grandeur or elevation, is called by the same name. Thus generosity is said to be an elevated emotion, as well as great courage; and that firmness of soul which is superior to misfortunes, obtains the peculiar name of magnanimity. On the other hand, every emotion that contracts the mind and fixeth it upon things trivial or of no importance, is termed low, by its resemblance to an emotion produced by a little or low object of sight. Thus an appetite for trifling amusements, is called a low taste. The same terms are applied to characters and actions. We talk familiarly of an elevated genius, of a great man, and equally so of littleness of mind. Some actions are great and elevated, others are low and groveling. Sentiments and even expressions are characterised in the same manner. An expression or sentiment that raises the mind, is denominated great or elevated; and hence the sublime[56] in poetry. In such figurative terms, the distinction is lost that is made betwixt great and elevated in their proper sense; for the resemblance is not so entire, as to preserve these terms distinct in their figurative application. We carry this figure still farther. Elevation in its proper sense, includes superiority of place; and lowness, inferiority of place. Hence a man of superior talents, of superior rank, of inferior parts, of inferior taste, and such like. The veneration we have for our ancestors and for the ancients in general, being similar to the emotion produced by an elevated object of sight, justifies the figurative expression, of the ancients being raised above us, or possessing a superior place. And we may remark by the way, that as words are intimately connected with ideas, many, by this form of expression, are led to conceive their ancestors as really above them in place, and their posterity below them:
A grandam’s name is little less in love
Than is the doting title of a mother:
They are as children but one step below.
Richard III. act 4. sc. 5.
The notes of the gamut, proceeding regularly from the blunter or grosser sounds to those which are more acute and piercing, produce in the hearer a feeling somewhat similar to what is produced by mounting upward; and this gives occasion to the figurative expressions, a high note, a low note.
Such is the resemblance in feeling betwixt real and figurative grandeur, that among the nations on the east coast of Afric, who are directed purely by nature, the different dignities of the officers of state are marked by the length of the batoon each carries in his hand. And in Japan, princes and great lords shew their rank by the length and size of their sedan-poles[57]. Again, it is a rule in painting, that figures of a small size are proper for grotesque pieces; but that in an historical subject, which is grand and important, the figures ought to be as great as the life. The resemblance of these feelings is in reality so strong, that elevation in a figurative sense is observed to have the same effect even externally, that real elevation has:
K. Henry. This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tiptoe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
Henry V. act 4. sc. 8.
The resemblance in feeling betwixt real and figurative grandeur, is humorously illustrated by Addison in criticising upon the English tragedy. “The ordinary method of making an hero, is to clap a huge plume of feathers upon his head, which rises so high, that there is often a greater length from his chin to the top of his head, than to the sole of his foot. One would believe, that we thought a great man and a tall man the same thing. As these superfluous ornaments upon the head make a great man, a princess generally receives her grandeur from those additional incumbrances that fall into her tail. I mean the broad sweeping train that follows her in all her motions, and finds constant employment for a boy who stands behind her to open and spread it to advantage[58].” The Scythians, impressed with the fame of Alexander, were astonished when they found him a little man.
A gradual progress from small to great, is not less remarkable in figurative than in real grandeur or elevation. Every one must have observed the delightful effect of a number of thoughts or sentiments, artfully disposed like an ascending series, and making impressions stronger and stronger. Such disposition of members in a period, is distinguished by a proper name, being termed a climax.
In order to have a just conception of grandeur and sublimity, it is necessary to be observed, that within certain limits they produce their strongest effects, which lessen by excess as well as by defect. This is remarkable in grandeur and sublimity taken in their proper sense. The strongest emotion of grandeur is raised by an object that can be taken in at one view. An object so immense as not to be comprehended but in parts, tends rather to distract than satisfy the mind[59]. In like manner, the strongest emotion produced by elevation is where the object is seen distinctly. A greater elevation lessens in appearance the object, till it vanish out of sight with its pleasant emotion. The same is equally remarkable in figurative grandeur and elevation, which shall be handled together, because, as observed above, they are scarce distinguishable. Sentiments may be so strained, as to become obscure, or to exceed the capacity of the human mind. Against such licence of imagination, every good writer will be upon his guard. And therefore it is of greater importance to observe, that even the true sublime may be carried beyond that pitch which produces the highest entertainment. We are undoubtedly susceptible of a greater elevation than can be inspired by human actions the most heroic and magnanimous; witness what we feel from Milton’s description of superior beings. Yet every man must be sensible of a more constant and pleasant elevation, when the history of his own species is the subject. He enjoys an elevation equal to that of the greatest hero, of an Alexander or a Cæsar, of a Brutus or an Epaminondas. He accompanies these heroes in their sublimest sentiments and most hazardous exploits, with a magnanimity equal to theirs; and finds it no stretch to preserve the same tone of mind for hours together, without sinking. The case is by no means the same in describing the actions or qualities of superior beings. The reader’s imagination cannot keep pace with that of the poet; and the mind, unable to support itself in a strained elevation, falls as from a height; and the fall is immoderate like the elevation. Where this effect is not felt, it must be prevented by some obscurity in the conception, which frequently attends the description of unknown objects.
On the other hand, objects of sight that are not remarkably great or high, scarce raise any emotion of grandeur or sublimity; and the same holds in other objects. The mind is often roused and animated without being carried to the height of grandeur or sublimity. This difference may be discerned in many sorts of music, as well as in some musical instruments. A kettledrum rouses, and a hautboy is animating; but neither of them inspire an emotion of sublimity. Revenge animates the mind in a considerable degree; but I think it never produceth an emotion that can be termed grand or sublime; and I shall have occasion afterward to observe, that no disagreeable passion ever has this effect. I am willing to put this to the test, by placing before my reader the most spirited picture of revenge ever drawn. It is a speech of Antony wailing over the body of Cæsar.
Wo to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,
(Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue),
A curse shall light upon the kind of men;
Domestic fury, and fierce civil strife,
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile, when they behold
Their infants quarter’d by the hands of war,
All pity choak’d with custom of fell deeds.
And Cæsar’s spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Atè by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines, with a monarch’s voice,
Cry Havock, and let slip the dogs of war.
Julius Cæsar, act 3. sc. 4.