The difference between great and little with respect to agreeableness, is remarkably felt in a series, when we pass gradually from the one extreme to the other. A mental progress from the capital to the kingdom, from that to Europe-to the whole earth-to the planetary system-to the universe, is extremely pleasant: the heart swells, and the mind is dilated, at every step. The returning in an opposite direction is not positively painful, though our pleasure lessens at every step, till it vanish into indifference such a progress may sometimes produce pleasure of a different sort, which arises from taking a narrower and narrower inspection. The same observation holds in a progress upward and downward. Ascent is pleasant because it elevates us but descent is never painful; it is for the most part pleasant from a different cause, that it is according to the order of nature. The fall of a stone from any height is extremely agreeable by its accelerated motion. I feel it pleasant to descend from a mountain, because the descent is natural and easy. Neither is looking downward painful; on the contrary, to look down upon objects makes part of the pleasure of elevation: looking down becomes then only painful when the object is so far below as to create dizziness; and even when that is the case, we feel a sort of pleasure mixed with the pain, witness Shakspeare's description of Dover cliffs:

How fearful

And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eye sò low!

The crows and choughs, that wing the midway-air,
Shew scarce so gross as beetles. Half-way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
The fishermen that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice; and yon
tall anchoring bark
Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
Almost too small for sight.

The murmuring surge,

That on th' unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple down headlong.

King Lear, Act IV. Sc. 6.

A remark is made above, that the emotions of grandeur and sublimity are nearly allied. And hence it is, that the one term is frequently put for the other an increasing series of numbers, for example, producing an emotion similar to that of mounting upward, is commonly termed an ascending series: a series of numbers gradually decreasing, producing an emotion similar to that of going downward, is commonly termed a descending series: we talk familiarly of going up to the capital, and of going down to the country: from a lesser kingdom we talk of going up to a greater; whence the anabasis in the Greek language, when one travels from Greece to Persia. We discover the same way of speaking in the language even of Japan ;* and its universality proves it the offspring of a natural feeling.

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The foregoing observation leads us to consider grandeur and sublimity in a figurative sense, and as applicable to the fine arts. Hitherto these terms have been taken in their proper sense, as applicable to objects of sight only and it was 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 holds remarkably at present. 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 to extend the

term beauty to these objects. This equally accounts for the terms grandeur and sublimity taken in a figurative sense. Every motion, 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 motion 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, and others are little and grovelling. 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* in poetry. In such figurative terms, we lose the distinction between 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.

Longinus gives a description of the Sublime that is not amiss, though far from being just in every circumstance, "That the mind "is elevated by it, and so sensibly affected, as to swell in transport "and inward pride, as if what is only heard or read, were its own in. "vention." But he adheres not to this description; in his 6 h chapter, he justly observes, that many passions have nothing of the grand, such as grief, fear, pity, which depress the mind instead of raising it; and yet in chap. 8. he mentions Sappho's ode upon love as subs lime: beautiful it is undoubtedly, but it cannot be sublime, because it really depresses the mind instead of raising it. His translator Boileaux is not more successful in his instances: in his 10th reflection, he cites a passage from Demosthenes and another from Herodotus as sublime, which have not the least tincture of that quality.

Elevation in its proper sense, imports superiority of place; and lowness, inferiority of place and 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 in passing, 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 IV. Sc. 5.

The notes of the gamut, proceeding regularly from the blunter or grosser sounds to the 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 between real and figurative grandeur, that among the nations on the east coast of Afric, who are directed purely by nature, the officers of state are, with respect to rank, distinguished by the length of the batoon each carries in bis hand; and in Japan. princes and great lords shew their rank by the length and size of their sedan-poles. Again, it is a rule in painting, that figures of a small size are proper for grotesque pieces; but that an historical subject, grand and

* Kempfer's History of Japan.

portant, requires figures 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, with real elevation :

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 IV. Sc. 8.

The resemblance in feeling between real and figurative grandeur, is humorously illustrated by Addison in criticising upon 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 re❝ceives her grandeur from those additional incum

brances that fall into her tail: I mean the broad "sweeping train, that follows her in all her mo❝tions; and finds constant employment for a boy, "who stands behind her to open and spread it to "advantage."* 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 no less remarkable in figurative, than in real grandeur or elevation. Every one must have observed the delightful effect of a number of thoughts or senti