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,
Ev’n now we heard the news. Ah! couldst thou fly!
Warwick. Why, then I would not fly.
Third part, Henry VI. act 5. sc. 3.
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. It will not suffer in a comparison with the famous sentiment Qu’il mourut in Corneille’s Horace. The latter is a sentiment of indignation merely, the former of invincible fortitude.
In opposition to these examples, to cite many a sublime passage, enriched with the finest images, and dressed in the most nervous expressions, would scarce be fair. I shall produce but one instance from Shakespear, which sets a few objects before the eye, without much pomp of language. It works its effect, by representing these objects in a climax, raising the mind higher and higher till it feel the emotion of grandeur in perfection.
The cloud-capt tow’rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea all which it inherit, shall dissolve, &c.
The cloud-capt tow’rs produce an elevating emotion, heightened by the gorgeous palaces. And the mind is carried still higher and higher by the images that follow. Successive images, making thus stronger and stronger impressions, must elevate more than any single image can do.
I proceed to another observation. In the chapter of beauty it is remarked, that regularity is required in small figures, and order in small groups; but that in advancing gradually from small to great, regularity and order are less and less required. This remark serves to explain the extreme delight we have in viewing the face of nature, when sufficiently enriched and diversified by objects. The bulk of the objects seen in a natural landscape are beautiful, and some of them grand. A flowing river, a spreading oak, a round hill, an extended plain, are delightful; and even a rugged rock or barren heath, though in themselves disagreeable, contribute by contrast to the beauty of the whole. Joining to these, the verdure of the fields, the mixture of light and shade, and the sublime canopy spread over all; it will not appear wonderful, that so extensive a group of glorious objects should swell the heart to its utmost bounds, and raise the strongest emotion of grandeur. The spectator is conscious of an enthusiasm, which cannot bear confinement nor the strictness of regularity and order. He loves to range at large; and is so inchanted with shining objects, as to neglect slight beauties or defects. Thus it is, that the delightful emotion of grandeur, depends little on order and regularity. And when the emotion is at its height by a survey of the greatest objects, order and regularity are almost totally disregarded.
The same observation is applicable in some measure to works of art. In a small building the slightest irregularity is disagreeable. In a magnificent palace or a large Gothic church, irregularities are less regarded. In an epic poem we pardon many negligences, which would be intolerable in a sonnet or epigram. Notwithstanding such exceptions, it may be justly laid down for a rule, That in all works of art, order and regularity ought to be governing principles. And hence the observation of Longinus[66], “In works of art we have regard to exact proportion; in those of nature, to grandeur and magnificence.”
I shall add but one other observation, That no means can be more successfully employed to sink and depress the mind than grandeur or sublimity. By the artful introduction of an humbling object, the fall is great in proportion to the former elevation. Of this doctrine Shakespear affords us a beautiful illustration, in a passage part of which is cited above for another purpose:
The cloud-capt tow’rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And like the baseless fabric of a vision
Leave not a rack behind——
Tempest, act 4. sc. 4.