after much culture and discipline. In Horace there is no fault more eminent than want of connection: instances are without number. In the first fourteen lines of ode 7. lib. i. he mentions several towns and districts, more to the taste of some than of others: in the remainder of the ode, Plancus is exhorted to drown his cares in wine. Having narrowly escaped death by the fall of a tree, this poet⚫ takes occasion to observe justly, that while we guard against some dangers, we are exposed to others we cannot foresee: he ends with displaying the power of music. The parts of ode 16. lib. 2. are so loosely connected as to disfigure a poem otherwise extremely beautiful The 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th, 11th, 24th, 27th odes of the 3d book, all lie open to the same censure. The first satire, book L. is so deformed by want of connection, as upon the whole to be scarcely agreeable. It commences with the important question, how it happens that people, though much satisfied with themselves, are seldom so with their rank or condition. After illustrating the observation in a sprightly manner by several examples, the author, forgetting his subject, enters upon a declamation against avarice, which he pursues till the 108th line. There he makes an apology for wandering, and promises to return to his subject; but avarice having got possession of his mind, he follows out that theme to the end, and never returns to the question proposed in the beginning. Of Virgil's Georgics, though esteemed the most complete work of that author, the parts are ill connected, and the transitions far from being sweet and easy. In the first bookt he deviates from his subject to give a description of the five zones. The want of connection here, as well as in the description of the prodigies that accompanied the death of Cæsar, are scarcely pardonable. A digression on the praises of Italy in the second book,‡ is not more happily introduced: and in the midst of a declamation upon the pleasures of husbandry, which makes part of the same book, the author introduces himself into the poem without the slightest connection. In the Lutrin, the Goddess of Discord is introduced without any connection. She is of no consequence in the poem; and acts no part except that of lavishing praise upon Louis XIV. The two prefaces of Sallust look as f by some blunder they had been prefixed to his two histories: they will suit any other history as well, or any subject as well as history. Even the members of these prefaces are but loosely connected: they look more like a number of maxims or observations than a connected discourse. An episode, in a narrative poem, being in effect an accessory, demands not that strict union with the principal subject, which is requisite between a whole and its constituent parts: it demands, however, a degree of union, such as ought to subsist between a princiual and accessory; and therefore will not be graceful if it be loosely con nected with the principal subject. I give, for an example, the desceni of Æneas into hell, which employs the sixth book of the Æneid. The reader is not prepared for that important event: no cause is assigned that can make it appear necessary, or even natural, to sus Lib. ii. ode 13. pend, for so long a time, the principal action in its most interesting period: the poet can find no pretext for an adventure so extraordinary, but the hero's longing to visit the ghost of his father, recently dead in the mean time the story is interrupted, and the reader loses his ardor. Pity it is that an episode so extremely beautiful, were not more happily introduced. I must observe, at the same time, that full justice is done to this incident, by considering it to be an episode; for if it be a constituent part of the principal action, the connection ought to be still more intimate. The same objection lies against that elaborate description of Fame in the Eneid: any other book of that heroic poem, or of any heroic poem, has as good a title to that description as the book where it is placed. In a natural landscape, we every day perceive a multitude of objects connected by contiguity solely; which is not unpleasant, because objects of sight make an impression so lively, that a relation even of the slightest kind is relished. This, however, ought not to be imitated in description. Words are so far short of the eye in liveliness of impression, that in a description connection ought to be carefully studied; for new objects introduced in description are made more or less welcome in proportion to the degree of their connection with the principal subject. In the following passage, different things are brought together without the slightest connection, if it be not what may be called verbal, i. e. taking the same word in different meanings. Surgamus: solet esse gravis cantantibus umbra. Now let us rise, for hoarseness oft invades The singer's voice, who sings beneath the shades; From juniper unwholesome dews distil That blast the sooty corn, the withering herbage kill Away, my goats, away, for you have browzed your fill. The atroduction of an object metaphorically or figuratively, w not just y the introduction of it in its natural appearance: a relation 40 ligh. can never be relished: Distrust in lovers is too warm a sun; But yet 'tis night in love when that is gone. And in those climes which most his scorching know, Part 2. Conquest of Granada, Act III. The elations among objects have a considerable influence in the gratifen ion of our passions, and even in their production. But that subject reserved to be treated in the chapter of emotions and passions.t The is not, perhaps, another instance of a building so great, erected upon a foundation so slight in appearance, as the relations of objects and their arrangement. Relations make no capital figure in the mind, the bulk of them being transitory, and some extremely trivial. They are, however, the links that, by uniting our perceptions into one connected chain, produce connection of action, because * Lib. iv. lin. 173. + Chap. 2. part I. sect. 4. 3 perception and action have an intimate correspondence. But it is not sufficient for the conduct of life, that our actions be linked together, however intimately it is beside necessary that they proceed in a certain order; and this also is provided for by an originai propensity. Thus order and connection, while they admit sufficient. variety, introduce a method in the management of affairs: without them our conduct would be fluctuating and desultory; and we should be hurried from thought to thought, and from action to action, entirely at the mercy of chance CHAPTER II. EMOTIONS AND PASSIONS. The feelings excited by the eye and ear only, called emotions or passions-Th connection between the fine arts and emotions and passions, the design of this chapter-The principles of the fine arts open a direct avenue to the heart A general or slight survey all that can be expected. The Of all the feelings raised in us by external objects, those only of the eye and the ear are honored with the name of passion or emotion: the most pleasing feelings of taste, or touch, or smell, aspire not to that honor. From this observation appears the connection of emotions and passions with the fine arts, which, as observed in the introduction, are all calculated to give pleasure to the eye or the ear; never once descending to gratify any of the inferior senses. design, accordingly, of this chapter, is to delineate that connection, with the view chiefly to ascertain what power the fine arts have to raise emotions and passions. To those who would excel in the fine arts, that branch of knowledge is indispensable; for without it the critic, as well as the undertaker, ignorant of any rule, has nothing left but to abandon himself to chance. Destitute of that branch of knowledge, in vain will either pretend to foretell what effect his work will have upon the heart. The principles of the fine arts, appear, in this view, to open a direct avenue to the heart of man. The inquisitive mind beginning with criticism, the most agreeable of all amusements, and finding no obstruction in its progress, advances far into the sensitive part of our nature, and gains imperceptibly a thorough knowledge of the human heart, of its desires, and of every motive to action-a science, which of all hat can be reached by man, is to him of the greatest importance. Upon a subject so comprehensive, all that can be expected in this chapter, is a general or slight survey; and to shorten that survey, I propose to handle separately some emotions more peculiarly connected with the fine arts. Even after that circumscription, so much matter comes under the present chapter, that, to avoid confusion, I find it necessary to divide it into many parts: and though the first of these is confined to such causes of emotion or passion as are the most common and the most general, yet upon examination I find this single part so extensive, as to require a subdivision into several sec tions. Human nature is a complicated machine, and is unavoidably so, in order to answer its various purposes. The public indeed have been entertained with many systems of human nature that flatter the mind by their simplicity. According to some writers, man is entirely a selfish being according to others, universal benevolence is his duty: one founds morality upon sympathy solely, and one upon utility. If any of these systems were copied from nature, the present subject might be soon discussed. But the variety of nature is not so easily reached, and for confuting such Utopian systems without the fatigue of reasoning, it appears the best method to take a survey of human nature, and to set before the eye, plainly and candidly, facts as they really exist. PART I. CAUSES UNFOLDED OF THE EMOTIONS AND PASSIONS. SECTION I. No passion or emotion exists without an antecedent cause-We love what is agreeable, and hate what is disagreeable Sources of emotions-External qualities of objects-Internal qualities of objects-Actions of sensible beings; with, or without reflection-The intention of actions, not the event, to be considered -The feelings of others-Recollected ideas-Desire follows some emotions and not others-Passions always accompanied with desire; emotions, not-Passion is productive of action: we do nothing without an antecedent cause-The objects of our passions are general, and particular-Passions directed to general objects, called appetites; and those retain their name-An appetite precedes the object; a passion follows it-Actions are instinctive and deliberative-Passions and actions are social, selfish, mixed, or dissocialSlight impediments increase desire; insurmountable ones overcome it-Different objects equally attainable, produce different degrees of emotion-Rational beings raise the strongest emotions; animate next; and inanimate the weakest. THESE branches are so interwoven that they cannot be handled separately. It is a fact universally admitted, that no emotion or pas sion ever starts up in the mind without a cause. If I love a person, it is for good qualities or good offices: if I have resentment against a man, it must be for some injury he has done me: and I cannot pity any one who is under no distress of body nor of mind. The circumstances now mentioned, if they raise an emotion or passion, cannot be entirely indifferent; for if so, they could not make any impression. And we find upon examination, that they are not indifferent. Looking back upon the foregoing examples, the good qualities or good offices that attract my love, are antecedently agreeable: if an injury did not give uneasiness, it would not occasion resentment against the author; nor would the passion of pity be raised by an object in distress, if that object did not give pain. What is now said about the production of emotion or passion, resolves itself into a very simple proposition-that we love what is agreeable, and hate what is disagreeable And indeed it is evident, that a thing must be agreeable or disagreeable, before it can be the object either of love or of hatred. This short hint about the causes of passion and emotion, leads to a more extensive view of the subject. Such is our nature, that upon perceiving certain external objects, we are instantaneously conscious of pleasure or pain: a gently-flowing river-a smooth extended plain -a spreading oak-a towering hill, are objects of sight that raise pleasant emotions: a barren heath-a dirty marsh—a rotten carcass, raise painful emotions. Of the emotions thus produced, we inquire for no other cause than merely the presence of the object. The things now mentioned, raise emotions by means of their properties and qualities. To the emotion raised by a large river, its size, its force, and its fluency, contributes each a share: the regu larity, propriety, and convenience, of a fine building, contribute each to the emotion raised by the building. If external properties be agreeable, we have reason to expect the same from those which are internal; and, accordingly, power, discernment, wit, mildness, sympathy, courage, benevolence, are agree able in a high degree. Upon perceiving these qualities in others, we instantaneously feel pleasant emotions, without the slightest act of reflection, or of attention to consequences. It is almost unnecessary to add, that certain qualities opposite to the former, such as 'dullness, peevishness, inhumanity, cowardice, occasion, in the same manner, painful emotions. Sensible beings affect us remarkably by their actions. Some actions raise pleasant emotions in the spectator, without the least reflection; such as graceful motion, and genteel behavior. But as intention, a capital circumstance in human actions, is not visible, it requires reflection to discover their true character. I see one delivering a purse of money to another, but I can make nothing of that action, till I learn with what intention the money is given. If it be given to discharge a debt, the action pleases me in a slight degree; if it be a grateful return, I feel a stronger emotion; and the pleasant emotion rises to a great height, when it is the intention of the giver to relieve a virtuous family from want. Thus actions are qualified by intention but they are not qualified by the event; for an action well intended gives pleasure, whatever the event may be. Farther, human actions are perceived to be right or wrong; and that perception qualifies the pleasure or pain that results from them.* * In tracing our emotions and passions to their origin, my first thought was, that qualities and actions are the primary causes of emotions; and that these emotions are afterwards expanded upon the being to which these qualities and actions belong. But I am now convinced that this opinion is erroneous. An attribute is not, even in imagination, separable from the being to which it belongs; and, for that reason, cannot, of itself, be the cause of any emotion. We have, it is true, no knowledge of any being or substance but by means of its attributes; and therefore no being can be agreeable to us otherwise than by their means. But still, when an emotion is raised, it is the being itself, as we apprehend the matter, that raises the emotion; and it raises it by means of one or other of its attributes. If it be urged, that we can in idea abstract a quality from the thing to which it belongs; it might be answered, that such abstraction may serve the purposes of reasoning, but is too faint to produce any sort of emotion. But it is sufficient for |