Joseph Addison

The Spectator. Nos. 411-421

[Addison's Table of Contents from No. 421]
This essay on the Pleasres of the !ma"ination ha#in" been pblished in separate papers$ ! shall %on%lde it
&ith a Table of the prin%ipal Contents in ea%h paper.
T'( C)NT(NT*.
PAP(+ !.
The perfe%tion of or si"ht abo#e or other senses.
The pleasures of the imagination arise ori"inally from si"ht.
The pleasres of the ima"ination di#ided nder two heads.
The pleasres of the imagination in some respe%ts e,al to those of the nderstandin".
The extent of the pleasres of the ima"ination.
The ad#anta"es a man re%ei#es from a relish of these pleasures.
!n &hat respe%t they are preferable to those of the nderstandin".
PAP(+ !!.
Three sources of all the pleasres of the ima"ination$ in or sr#ey of ot&ard ob-e%ts.
'o& &hat is great pleases the ima"ination.
'o& &hat is new pleases the ima"ination.
'o& &hat is beautiful in or o&n spe%ies pleases the ima"ination.
'o& &hat is beautiful in "eneral pleases the ima"ination.
.hat other a%%idental %ases may %ontribte to the heightening of these pleasres.
PAP(+ !!!.
.hy the necessary cause of or bein" pleased &ith &hat is "reat$ ne&$ or beatifl$ n/no&n.
.hy the final cause more /no&n and more sefl.
The final %ase of or bein" pleased &ith &hat is great.
The final %ase of or bein" pleased &ith &hat is new.
The final %ase of or bein" pleased &ith &hat is beautiful in our own species.
The final %ase of or bein" pleased &ith &hat is beautiful in general.
PAP(+ !0. The works of Nature more pleasant to the ima"ination than those of art.
The &or/s of Natre still more pleasant$ the more they resemble those of art.
The &or/s of art more pleasant$ the more they resemble those of Natre.
)r English plantations and gardens %onsidered in the fore"oin" li"ht.
PAP(+ 0.
)f architecture as it affe%ts the ima"ination.
Greatness in ar%hite%tre relates either to the bulk or to the manner.
1reatness of bl/ in the ancient Oriental buildings.
The an%ient a%%onts of these bildin"s %onfirmed2 !. 3rom the ad#anta"es for raisin" s%h &or/s in the first
a"es of the &orld and in the (astern %limates4 2. 3rom se#eral of them &hi%h are still e5tant.
!nstan%es ho& greatness of manner affe%ts the ima"ination.
A French athor's obser#ation on this sb-e%t. .hy %on%a#e and %on#e5 fi"res "i#e a "reatness of manner to
&or/s of ar%hite%tre.
(#erythin" that pleases the ima"ination in ar%hite%tre either "reat$ beatifl$ or ne&.
PAP(+ 0!.
The secondary pleasres of the ima"ination.
The se#eral sor%es of these pleasres 6statuary painting description and music7 %ompared to"ether.
The final cause of or re%ei#in" pleasre from these se#eral sor%es.
)f descriptions in parti%lar.
The po&er of words o#er the ima"ination.
.hy one reader more pleased &ith des%riptions than another.
PAP(+ 0!!.
'o& a &hole set of ideas hang together$ 8%.2 a natral %ase assi"ned for it.
'o& to perfect the ima"ination of a &riter2 &ho amon" the ancient poets had this fa%lty in its "reatest
perfe%tion.
!omer e5%elled in ima"inin" &hat is "reat4 "irgil in ima"inin" &hat is beatifl4 O#id in ima"inin" &hat is
ne&.
)r o&n %ontryman$ $ilton$ #ery perfe%t in all three respe%ts.
PAP(+ 0!!!.
.hy anythin" that is unpleasant to behold pleases the ima"ination &hen &ell des%ribed.
.hy the ima"ination re%ei#es a more e5,isite pleasre from the des%ription of &hat is great new or
beautiful.
The pleasre still hei"htened$ if &hat is des%ribed raises passion in the mind.
%isagreeable passions pleasin" &hen raised by apt des%riptions.
.hy terror and grief are pleasin" to the mind$ &hen e5%ited by des%riptions.
A parti%lar ad#anta"e the &riters in poetry and fi%tion ha#e to please the ima"ination. .hat liberties are
allo&ed them.
PAP(+ !9.
)f that /ind of poetry &hi%h :r. %ryden %alls the fairy-&ay of &ritin".
'o& a poet shold be &ualified for it.
The pleasures of the ima"ination that arise from it.
!n this respe%t$ &hy the moderns e5%el the ancients.
.hy the (n"lish e5%el the moderns.
.ho the best amon" the English.
)f emblematical persons.
PAP(+ 9.
.hat athors please the ima"ination &ho ha#e nothing to do with fiction.
'o& history pleases the imagination.
'o& the authors of the new philosophy please the ima"ination.
The bounds and defects of the ima"ination.
.hether these defe%ts are essential to the ima"ination.
PAP(+ 9!.
'o& those please the ima"ination &ho treat of sb-e%ts abstracted from matter$ by allsions ta/en from it.
.hat allusions most pleasin" to the ima"ination.
1reat &riters ho& faulty in this respe%t.
)f the art of imagining in "eneral.
The ima"ination %apable of pain as &ell as pleasre.
'n what degree the ima"ination is %apable either of pain or pleasre.
A note on this te5t: Nos. 411-421 were originally a single long essay by Joseph Addison. The incomplete
surviving manuscript is now at arvard !niversity. This table o" contents was placed at the end o" No.
421.
Spectator. No. 411# June 21# 1$12.
Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius ante Trita solo; juvat integros accedere fontes; Atque
haurire: . . . %ucr.
&' travel unpathed haunts o" the (ierides )muses*#
Trodden by step o" none be"ore. ' +oy
To come on unde"iled "ountains there#
To drain them deep.
%ucretius# De rerum natura# '. ,2--2./
0!1 sight is the most per"ect and most delight"ul o" all our senses. 't "ills the mind with the largest
variety o" ideas# converses with its ob+ects at the greatest distance# and continues the longest in
action without being tired or satiated with its proper en+oyments. The sense o" "eeling can indeed give
us a notion o" e2tension# shape# and all other ideas that enter at the eye# e2cept colours3 but at the
same time it is very much straitened and con"ined in its operations# to the number# bul4# and distance
o" its particular ob+ects. 0ur sight seems designed to supply all these de"ects# and may be considered
as a more delicate and di""usive 4ind o" touch# that spreads itsel" over an in"inite multitude o" bodies#
comprehends the largest "igures# and brings into our reach some o" the most remote parts o" the
universe.
't is this sense which "urnishes the imagination with its ideas3 so that by the pleasures o" the
imagination# or "ancy# &which ' shall use promiscuously/# ' here mean such as arise "rom visible
ob+ects # either when we have them actually in our view# or when we call up their ideas into our minds
by paintings# statues# descriptions# or any the li4e occasion. 5e cannot# indeed# have a single image
in the "ancy that did not ma4e its "irst entrance through the sight 3 but we have the power o" retaining#
altering# and compounding those images# which we have once received# into all the varieties o"
picture and vision that are most agreeable to the imagination 3 "or by this "aculty a man in a dungeon
is capable o" entertaining himsel" with scenes and landscapes more beauti"ul than any that can be
"ound in the whole compass o" nature.
There are "ew words in the 6nglish language which are employed in a more loose and
uncircumscribed sense than those o" the "ancy and the imagination. ' there"ore thought it necessary
to "i2 and determine the notion o" these two words# as ' intend to ma4e use o" them in the thread o"
my "ollowing speculations# that the reader may conceive rightly what is the sub+ect which ' proceed
upon. ' must there"ore desire him to remember# that by the pleasures o" the imagination# ' mean only
such pleasures as arise originally "rom sight# and that ' divide these pleasures into two 4inds my
design being "irst o" all to discourse o" those primary pleasures o" the imagination# which entirely
proceed "rom such ob+ects as are be"ore our eyes3 and in the ne2t place to spea4 o" those secondary
pleasures o" the imagination which "low "rom the ideas o" visible ob+ects# when the ob+ects are not
actually be"ore the eye# but are called up into our memories# or "ormed into agreeable visions o"
things that are either absent or "ictitious.
The pleasures o" the imagination# ta4en in their "ull e2tent# are not so gross as those o" sense# nor so
re"ined as those o" the understanding. The last are# indeed# more preferable# because they are
"ounded on some new 4nowledge or improvement in the mind o" man3 yet it must be con"essed# that
those o" the imagination are as great and as transporting as the other. A beauti"ul prospect delights
the soul# as much as a demonstration3 and a description in omer has charmed more readers than a
chapter in Aristotle. 7esides# the pleasures o" the imagination have this advantage above those o" the
understanding# that they are more obvious# and more easy to be ac8uired. 't is but opening the eye#
and the scene enters. The colours paint themselves on the "ancy# with very little attention o" thought
or application o" mind in the beholder. 5e are struc4# we 4now not how# with the symmetry o"
anything we see# and immediately assent to the beauty o" an ob+ect# without in8uiring into the
particular causes and occasions o" it.
A man o" polite imagination is let into a great many pleasures# that the vulgar are not capable o"
receiving. e can converse with a picture# and "ind an agreeable companion in a statue. e meets
with a secret re"reshment in a description# and o"ten "eels a greater satis"action in the prospect o"
"ields and meadows# than another does in the possession. 't gives him# indeed# a 4ind o" property in
everything he sees# and ma4es the most rude# uncultivated parts o" nature administer to his
pleasures: so that he loo4s upon the world# as it were in another light# and discovers in it a multitude
o" charms# that conceal themselves "rom the generality o" man4ind.
There are# indeed# but very "ew who 4now how to be idle and innocent# or have a relish o" any
pleasures that are not criminal: every diversion they ta4e is at the e2pense o" some one virtue or
another# and their very "irst step out o" business is into vice or "olly. A man should endeavour#
there"ore# to ma4e the sphere o" his innocent pleasures as wide as possible# that he may retire into
them with sa"ety# and "ind in them such a satis"action as a wise man would not blush to ta4e. 0" this
nature are those o" the imagination# which do not re8uire such a bent o" thought as is necessary to
our more serious employments# nor# at the same time# su""er the mind to sin4 into that negligence and
remissness# which are apt to accompany our more sensual delights# but# li4e a gentle e2ercise to the
"aculties# awa4en them "rom sloth and idleness# without putting them upon any labour or di""iculty.
5e might here add# that the pleasures o" the "ancy are more conducive to health# than those o" the
understanding# which are wor4ed out by dint o" thin4ing# and attended with too violent a labour o" the
brain. 9elight"ul scenes# whether in nature# painting# or poetry# have a 4indly in"luence on the body#
as well as the mind# and not only serve to clear and brighten the imagination# but are able to disperse
grie" and melancholy# and to set the animal spirits in pleasing and agreeable motions. :or this reason
;ir :rancis 7acon# in his Essa upon !ealth# has not thought it improper to prescribe to his reader a
poem or a prospect# where he particularly dissuades him "rom 4notty and subtile dis8uisitions# and
advises him to pursue studies that "ill the mind with splendid and illustrious ob+ects# as histories#
"ables# and contemplations o" nature.
' have in this paper# by way o" introduction# settled )de"ined* the notion o" those pleasures o" the
imagination which are the sub+ect o" my present underta4ing# and endeavoured# by several
considerations# to recommend to my reader the pursuit o" those pleasures. ' shall# in my ne2t paper#
e2amine the several sources "rom whence these pleasures are derived.
Spectator. No. 412# <onday# June 21# 1$12.
. . . Divisum sic breve fiet "pus.-<A1T.
)<artialis &Epigrams# '=#.2#./: >9ivided the wor4 will thus become brie".>*
' ;A%% "irst consider those pleasures o" the imagination which arise "rom the actual view and
survey o" outward ob+ects3 and these# ' thin4# all proceed "rom the sight o" what is great# uncommon#
or beautiful. There may indeed# be something so terrible or o""ensive# that horror or loathsomeness o"
an ob+ect may overbear the pleasure which results "rom its greatness# novelt or beaut3 but still
there will be such a mi2ture o" delight in the very disgust it gives us# as any these three 8uali"ications
are most conspicuous and prevailing.
7y greatness# ' do not only mean the bul4 o" any single ob+ect# but the largeness o" a whole view#
considered as one entire piece. ;uch are the prospects o" an open champaign country# a vast
uncultivated desert# o" huge heaps o" mountains# high roc4s precipices# or a wide e2panse o" waters#
where we are not struc4 with the novelty or beauty o" the sight# but with that rude 4ind o"
magni"icence which appears in many o" these stupendous wor4s o" nature. 0ur imagination loves to
be "illed with an ob+ect# or to grasp at anything that is too big "or its capacity. 5e are "lung into a
pleasing astonishment at such unbounded views# and "eel a delight"ul stillness and ama?ement in the
soul at the apprehension o" them. The mind o" man naturally hates everything that loo4s li4e a
restraint upon it# and is apt to "ancy itsel" under sort o" con"inement# when the sight is pent up in a
arrow compass# and shortened on every side by the neighborhood o" walls or mountains. 0n the
contrary# a spacious hori?on is an image o" liberty# where the eye has room to range abroad# to
e2patiate at large on the immensity o" its views# and to lose itsel" amidst the variety o" ob+ects that
o""er themselves to its observation. ;uch wide and undetermined prospects are as pleasing to the
"ancy# as the speculations o" eternity or in"initude are to the understanding. 7ut i" there be a beauty
or uncommonness +oined with this grandeur# as in a troubled ocean# a heaven adorned with stars
and meteors# or a spacious landscape cut out into rivers# woods# roc4s# and meadows# the pleasure
still grows upon us# as it arises "rom more than a single principle.
6very thing that is ne# or uncommon raises a pleasure in the imagination# because it "ills the soul
with an agreeable surprise# grati"ies its curiosity# and gives it an idea o" which it was not be"ore
possessed. 5e are indeed so o"ten conversant with one set o" ob+ects# and tired out with so many
repeated shows o" the same things# that whatever is ne# or uncommon contributes a little to vary
human li"e# and to divert our minds "or a while with the strangeness o" its appearance: it serves us "or
a 4ind o" re"reshment# and ta4es o"" "rom that satiety we are apt to complain o" in our usual and
ordinary entertainments. 't is this that bestows charms on a monster# and ma4es even the
imper"ections o" nature please us. 't is this that recommends variety# where the mind is every instant
called o"" to something new# and the attention not su""ered to dwell too long and waste itsel" on any
particular ob+ect. 't is this# li4ewise# that improves what is great or beauti"ul# and ma4es it a""ord the
mind a double entertainment. @roves# "ields# and meadows are at any season o" the year pleasant to
loo4 upon# but never so much as in the opening o" the spring# when they are all new and "resh# with
their "irst gloss upon them# and not yet too much accustomed and "amiliar to the eye. :or this reason
there is nothing that more enlivens a prospect than rivers# +etteaus# or "alls o" water# where the scene
is perpetually shi"ting and entertaining the sight every moment with something that is new. 5e are
8uic4ly tired with loo4ing upon hills and valleys# where everything continues "i2ed and settled in the
same place and posture# but "ind our thoughts a little agitated and relieved at the sight o" such
ob+ects as are ever in motion and sliding away "rom beneath the eye o" the beholder.
7ut there is nothing that ma4es its way more directly to the soul than beaut# which immediately
di""uses a secret satis"action and complacency through the imagination# and gives a "inishing to
anything that is great or uncommon. The very "irst discovery o" it stri4es the mind with an inward +oy#
and spreads a cheer"ulness and delight through all its "aculties. There is not perhaps any real beauty
or de"ormity more in one piece o" matter than another# because we might have been so made# that
whatsoever now appears loathsome to us# might have shown itsel" agreeable3 but we "ind by
e2perience# that there are several modi"ications o" matter which the mind# without any previous
consideration# pronounces at "irst sight beauti"ul or de"ormed. Thus we see that every di""erent
species o" sensible creatures has its di""erent notions o" beauty# and that each o" them is most
a""ected with the beauties o" its own 4ind. This is nowhere more remar4able than in birds o" the same
shape and proportion# where we o"ten see the male determined in his courtship by the single grain or
tincture o" a "eather# and never discovering any charms but in the colour o" its species.
;cit thalamo servare "idem. sanctas8ue ueretur
Aonnubii leges: non illum ln pectore candor
;ollicitat niveus# ne8ue pravum accendit amorem
;plendida lanugo# vel honesta in vertice crista#
(urpureusve 1?itor pennarum3 ast agmina late
:oeminea e#rplorat cautus# maculas8ue re8uirit
Aognatas# paribus8ue interlita corpora guttis:
"aceret# pictis syluam circum undi8ue monstris
Aon"usam aspiceres vulgo# partus8ue bi"ormes
6t genus ambiguum# et =eneris monumenta ne"andae.
inc merula in nigro se oblectat nigra marito
inc socium lasciva petit (hilomela canorum
Agnoscit8ue pares sonitus# hinc noctua tetram
Aanitiem alarum# et glaucos miratur ocellos.
Nempe sibi semper constat# crescit8ue 8uotannis
%ucida progenies# castos con"essa parentes
9um uiBides inter saltus lucos8ue sonoros
=ere novo e2ultat# plumas8ue decora +uventus
62plicat ad solem# patriis8ue coloribus arde.
Translation &"rom the edition o" 1$44/:
The "eatherCd husband to his partner true#
(reserves connubial rites inviolate.
5ith cold indi""erence every charm he sees#
The mil4y 5hiteness o" the stately nec4#
The shining down# proud crest# and purple wings3
7ut cautious with a searching eye e2plores
The "emale tribes# his proper mate to "ind#
5ith 4indred colours mar4ed: 9id he not so#
The grove with painted monsters would abound#
The ambiguous product o" unnatural love.
The blac4-bird hence selects her sooty spouse3
The nightingale her musical compeer#
%ured by the well-4nown voice: the bird o" night#
;mit with her dus4y wings and greenish eyes#
5oos his dun paramour. The beauteous race
;pea4 the chaste loves o" their progenitors3
5hen# by the spring invited# they e2ult
'n woods and "ields# and to the sun un"old
Their plumes# that with paternal colours glow.
There is a second 4ind o" beaut that we "ind in the several products o" art and nature# which does
not wor4 in the imagination with that warmth and violence as the beauty that appears in our proper
species# but is apt however to raise in us a secret delight# and 4ind o" "ondness "or the places or
ob+ects in which discover it. This consists either in the gaiety or variety o" colours# in the symmetry
and proportion parts# in the arrangement and disposition o" bodies or in a +ust mi2ture and
concurrence o" all together. Among these several 4inds o" beauty the eye ta4es most delight in
colours. 5e nowhere meet with a more glorious or pleasing show in nature# than what appears in the
heavens at the rising and setting o" the sun which is wholly made up o" those di""erent stains o" light
that show themselves in clouds o" a di""erent situation. :or this reason we "ind the poets# who are
always addressing themselves to the imagination borrowing more o" their epithets "rom colours than
"rom any other topic.
As the "ancy delights in everything that is great strange# or beauti"ul# and is still more pleased the
more it "inds o" these per"ections in the same ob+ect# so it is capable o" receiving a new satis"action
by the assistance o" another sense. Thus any continued sound# as the music o" birds# or a "all o"
water# awa4ens every moment the mind o" the beholder# and ma4es him more attentive to the
several beauties o" the place that lie be"ore him. Thus i" there arises a "ragrancy o" smells or
per"umes# they heighten the pleasures o" the imagination# and ma4e even the colours and verdure o"
the landscape appear more agreeable3 "or the ideas o" both senses recommend each other# and are
pleasanter together than when they enter the mind separately: as the di""erent colours o" a picture#
when they are well disposed# set o"" one another# and receive an additional beauty "rom the
advantage o" their situation.
Spectator. No 41D Tuesday# June 24# 1$12
. . . $ausa latet, vis est notissima . . . 0='9.
)0vid )<etamorphoses 4.2.$*: The cause is secret# but the e""ect is 4nown.*
T0!@ in yesterdayEs paper we considered how everything that is great, ne## or beautiful# is apt to
e""ect the imagination with pleasure# we must own that it is impossible "or us to assign the necessary
cause o" this pleasure# because we 4now neither the nature o" an idea nor the substance o" a human
soul# which night help us to discover the con"ormity or disagreebleness o" the one to the other3 and
there"ore# "or want o" such a light# all that we can do in speculations o" this 4ind is to re"lect on those
operations o" the soul that are most agreeable# and to range under their proper heads what is
pleasing or displeasing to the mind# without being able to trace out the several necessary and
e""icient causes "rom whence the pleasure or displeasure arises.
%inal causes lie more bare and open to our observation# as there are o"ten a greater variety that
belong to the same e""ect3 and these# though they are not altogether so satis"actory# are generally
more use"ul than the other# as they give us greater occasion o" admiring the goodness and wisdom
o" the "irst contriver.
0ne o" the "inal causes o" our delight in anything that is great# may be this. The ;upreme Author o"
our being has so "ormed the soul o" man# that nothing but himsel" can be its last# ade8uate# and
proper happiness. 7ecause# there"ore# a great part o" our happiness must arise "rom the
contemplation o" his being# that he might give our souls a +ust relish o" such a contemplation# he has
made them naturally delight in the apprehension o" what is great or unlimited. 0ur admiration# which
is a very pleasing motion o" the mind# immediately rises at the consideration o" any ob+ect that ta4es
up a great deal o" room in the "ancy# and by conse8uence will improve into the highest pitch o"
astonishment and devotion when we contemplate his nature# that is neither circumscribed by time
nor place# nor to be comprehended by the largest capacity o" a created being.
e has anne2ed a secret pleasure to the idea o" anything that is ne# or uncommon# that he might
encourage us in the pursuit a"ter 4nowledge# and engage us to search into the wonders o" his
creation3 "or every new idea brings such a pleasure along with it# as rewards any pains we have
ta4en in its ac8uisition# and conse8uently serves as a motive to put us upon "resh discoveries.
e has made everything that is beautiful in our o#n species pleasant# that all creatures might be
tempted to multiply their 4ind and "ill the world with inhabitants3 "or Etis very remar4able that wherever
nature is crossed in the production o" a monster &the result o" any unnatural mi2ture/ the breed is
incapable o" propagating its li4eness and o" "ounding a new order o" creatures3 so that unless all
animals were allured by he beauty o" their own species# generation would be at an end# and the earth
unpeopled.
'n the last place# he has made everything that is beauti"ul in all other ob+ects pleasant# or rather has
made so many ob+ects appear beauti"ul# that he might render the whole creation more gay and
delight"ul. e has given almost everything about us the power o" raising an agreeable idea in the
imagination: so that is impossible "or us to behold his wor4s with coldness or indi""erence# and to
survey so many beauties without secret satis"action and complacency. Things would ma4e but a
poor appearance to the eye# i" we saw them only in their proper "igures and motions: and what
reason can we assign "or their e2citing in us many o" those ideas which are di""erent "rom anything
that e2ists in the ob+ects themselves &"or such are light and colours/# were not it to add
supernumerary ornaments to the universe# and ma4e it more agreeable to the imaginationF 5e are
everywhere entertained with pleasing shows and apparitions# we discover imaginary glories in the
heavens and in the earth# and see some o" this visionary beauty poured out upon the whole creation3
but what a rough unsightly s4etch o" nature should we be entertained with# did all her colouring
disappear# and the several distinctions o" light and shade vanishF 'n short# our souls are at present
delight"ully lost and bewildered in a pleasing delusion and we wal4 about li4e the enchanted hero o" a
romance who sees beauti"ul castles# woods# and meadows# and at the same time hears the warbling
o" birds and the purling o" streams3 but upon the "inishing o" some secret spell the "antastic scene
brea4s up# and the disconsolate 4night "inds himsel" on a barren heath or in a solitary desert. 't is not
improbable that some thing li4e this may be the state o" the soul a"ter its "irst separation# in respect o"
the images it will receive "rom matter3 though indeed the ideas o" colours are so pleasing and
beauti"ul in the imagination# that it is possible the soul will not be deprived o" them# but perhaps "ind
them e2cited by some other occasional cause# as they are at present by the di""erent impressions o"
the subtle matter on the organ o" sight.
' have here supposed that my reader is ac8uainted with that great modern discovery# which is at
present universally ac4nowledged by all the in8uirers into natural philosophy: namely# that light and
colours# as apprehended by the imagination# are only ideas in the mind# and not 8ualities that have
any e2istence in matter. As this is a truth which has been proved incontestably by many modern
philosophers# and is indeed one o" the "inest speculations in that science# i" the English reader would
see the notion e2plained at large# he may "ind it in the eighth chapter o" the second boo4 o" <r.
%oc4)e*Es Essa on !uman &nderstanding.
The Spectator. No 414 5ednesday# June 2G# 1$12
. . . Alterius sic
Altera poscit opem res ' conjurat amic(. 01.
)orace: Ars poetica# 41H-11: 6ach by itsel" is vain but together their "orce is strong and
each proves the others "riend.*
': we consider the wor4s o" nature and art# as they are 8uali"ied to entertain the imagination# we
shall "ind the last very de"ective in comparison o" the "ormer3 "or though they may sometimes appear
as beauti"ul or strange# they can have nothing in them o" that vastness and immensity# which a""ord
so great an entertainment to the mind o" the beholder.- The one may be as polite and delicate as the
other# but can never show hersel" so august and magni"icent in the design. There is something more
bold and masterly in the rough careless stro4es o" nature than in the nice touches and
embellishments o" art. The beauties o" the most stately garden or palace lie in a narrow compass#
the imagination immediately runs them over# and re8uires something else to grati"y her3 but in the
wide "ields o" nature the sight wanders up and down without con"inement# and is "ed with an in"inite
variety o" images without any certain stint or number. :or this reason we always "ind the poet in love
with a country li"e# where nature appears in the greatest per"ection# and "urnishes out all those
scenes that are most apt to delight the imagination.
;criptorum chorus omnis amat nemus# et "ugit urbes. 01.
)orace# Epistles# 2. 2. $$: 6ach writer hates the town and loves the country. *
ic secura 8uies# et nescia "allere vita 9ives opum variarum3 hic latis otia "undis ;peluncae#
vivi8ue lacus# hic "rigida Tempe# <ugitus8ue boum# molles8ue sub arbore somni.# ='1@.
)=irgil# )eorgics# 2. 4-$-$H: untroubled calm#
A li"e that 4nows no "alsehood# rich enow
5ith various treasures# yet broad-acred ease#
@rottoes and living la4es# yet Tempes cool#
%owing o" 4ine# and sylvan slumbers so"t *
7ut though there are several o" these wild scenes that are more delight"ul than any arti"icial shows#
yet we "ind the wor4s o" nature still more pleasant# the more they resemble those o" art3 "or in this
case our pleasure rises "rom a double principle# "rom the agreeableness o" the ob+ects to the eye#
and "rom their similitude to other ob+ects: we are pleased as well with comparing their beauties as
with surveying them# and can represent them to our minds either as copies or originals. ence it is
that we ta4e delight in a prospect which is well laid out# and diversi"ied with "ields and meadows#
woods and rivers3 in those accidental landscapes o" trees# clouds# and cities that are sometimes
"ound in the veins o" marble3 in the curious "retwor4 o" roc4s and grottoes3 and# in a word# in anything
that hath such a variety or regularity as may seem the e""ect o" design in what we call the wor4s o"
chance.
'" the products o" nature rise in value according as they more or less resemble those o" art# we may
be sure that arti"icial wor4s receive a greater advantage "rom their resemblance o" such as are
natural3 because here the similitude is not only pleasant# but the pattern nore per"ect. The prettiest
landscape ' ever saw# was one drawn on the walls o" a dar4 room# which stood opposite on one side
to a navigable river# and on the other to a par4. The e2periment is very common in optics. ere you
might discover the waves and "luctuations o" the water in strong and proper colours# with the picture
o" a ship entering at one end and sailing by degrees through the whole piece. 0n another there
appeared the green shadows o" trees# waving to and "ro with the wind# and herds o" deer among
them in miniature# leaping about upon the wall. ' must con"ess# the novelty o" such a sight may be
one occasion o" its pleasantness to the imagination# but certainly the chie" reason is its near
resemblance to nature# as it does not only# li4e other pictures# give the colour and "igure# but the
motion o" the things it represents.
5e have be"ore observed# that there is generally in nature something more grand and august than
what we meet with in the curiosities o" art. 5hen# there"ore# we see this imitated in any measure# it
gives us a nobler and more e2alted 4ind o" pleasure than what we receive "rom the nicer and more
accurate productions o" art. 0n this account our English gardens are not so entertaining to the "ancy
as those in %rance and *tal# where we see a large e2tent o" ground covered over with an agreeable
mi2ture o" garden and "orest# which represent everywhere an arti"icial rudeness much more
charming than that neatness and elegancy which we meet with in those o" our own country. 't might#
indeed# be o" ill conse8uence to the public# as well as unpro"itable to private persons# to alienate so
much ground "rom pasturage and the plough in many parts o" a country that is so well peopled# and
cultivated to a "ar greater advantage. 7ut why may not a whole estate be thrown into a 4ind o"
garden by "re8uent plantations# that may turn as much to the pro"it as the pleasure o" the ownerF A
marsh overgrown with willows# or a mountain shaded with oa4s# are not only more beauti"ul# but
more bene"icial# than when they lie bare and unadorned. "ields o" corn ma4e a pleasant prospect#
and i" the wal4s were a little ta4en care o" that lie between them# i" the natural embroidery o" the
meadows were helped and improved by some small additions o" art# and the several rows o" hedges
set o"" by trees and "lowers that the soil was capable o" receiving# a man might ma4e a pretty
landscape o" his own possessions.
5riters who have given us an account o" $hina tell us the inhabitants o" that country laugh at the
plantations o" our Europeans# which are laid out by the rule and line3 because# they say# any one
may place trees in e8ual rows and uni"orm "igures. They choose rather to show a genius in wor4s o"
this nature# and there"ore always conceal the art by which they direct themselves. They have a word#
it seems# in their language# by which they e2press the particular beauty o" a plantation that thus
stri4es the imagination at "irst sight# without discovering what it is that has so agreeable an e""ect.
0ur +ritish gardeners# on the contrary# instead o" humouring nature# love to deviate "rom it as much
as possible. 0ur trees rise in cones# lobes# and pyramids. 5e see the mar4s o" the scissors upon
every plant and bush. ' do not 4now whether ' am singular in my opinion# but# "or my own part# '
would rather loo4 upon a tree in all its lu2uriancy and di""usion o" boughs and branches# than when it
is thus cut and trimmed into a mathematical "igure3 and cannot but "ancy that an orchard in "lower
loo4s in"initely more delight"ul than all the little labyrinths o" the most "inished parterre. 7ut as our
great modelers o" gardens have their maga?ines o" plants to dispose o"# it is very natural "or them to
tear up all the beauti"ul plantations o" "ruit trees# and contrive a plan that may most turn to their own
pro"it# in ta4ing o"" their evergreens and the li4e moveable plants# with which their shops are
plenti"ully stoc4ed.
Spectator. No 41G. Thursday# June 2-# 1$12
Adde tot egregias urbes, operumque laborem. ='1@.
)=irgil# )eorgics 2# 1GG: <ar4 too her illustrious cities# achieved through mighty toil*
A='N@ already shown how the "ancy is a""ected by the wor4s o" nature# and a"terwards considered
in general both the wor4s o" nature and o" art# how they mutually assist and complete each other# in
"orming such scenes and prospects as are most apt to delight the mind o" the beholder# ' shall in this
paper throw together some re"lections on that particular art which has a more immediate tendency
than any other to produce those primary pleasures o" the imagination which have hitherto been the
sub+ect o" this discourse. The art ' mean is that o" architecture# which ' shall consider only with
regard to the light in which the "oregoing speculations have placed it# without entering into those
rules and ma2ims which the great masters o" architecture have laid down# and e2plained at large in
numberless treatises upon that sub+ect.
)reatness# in the wor4s o" architecture# may be considered as relating to the bul4 and body o" the
structure# or to the manner in which it is built. As "or the "irst# we "ind the ancients# especially among
the 6astern nations o" the world# in"initely superior to the moderns.
Not to mention the Tower o" +abel# o" which an old author says there were the "oundations to be
seen in his time# which loo4ed li4e a spacious mountain# what could be more noble than the walls o"
+ablon# its hanging gardens# and its temple to ,upiter +elus, that rose a mile high by eight several
storeys# each storey a "urlong in height# and on the top o" which was the +ablonian observatoryF '
might here li4ewise ta4e notice o" the huge roc4 that was cut into the "igure o" Semiramis with the
smaller roc4s that lay by it in the shape o" tributary 4ings3 the prodigious basin# or arti"icial la4e#
which too4 in the whole Euphrates# until such time as a new canal was "ormed "or its reception# with
the several trenches through which that river was conveyed. ' 4now there are persons who loo4
upon some o" these wonders o" art as "abulous# but ' cannot "ind any grounds "or such a suspicion#
unless it be that we have no such wor4s among us at present: there were indeed many greater
advantages "or building in those times# and in that part o" the world# than have been met with ever
since. The earth was e2tremely "ruit"ul# men lived generally on pasturage# which re8uires a much
smaller number o" hands than agriculture: there were "ew trades to employ the busy part o" man4ind#
and "ewer arts and sciences to give wor4 to men o" speculative tempers3 and what is more than all
the rest# the prince was absolute3 so that when he went to war# he put himsel" at the head o" a whole
people. As we "ind Semiramis leading her three millions to the "ield# and yet overpowered by the
number o" her enemies. ETis no wonder# there"ore# when she was at peace# and turned her thoughts
on building# that she could accomplish so great wor4s# with such a prodigious multitude o" labourers:
besides that in her climate there was small interruption o" "rosts and winters# which ma4e the
Northern wor4men lie hal" the year idle. ' might mention# too# among the bene"its o" the climate# what
historians say o" the earth# that it sweated out a bitumen or natural 4ind o" mortar# which is doubtless
the same with that mentioned in oly 5rit as contributing to the structure o" +abel: Slime the used
instead of mortar. )@enesis 11. D*
'n Egpt we still see their pyramids# which answer to the descriptions that have been made o" them3
and ' 8uestion not but a traveler might "ind out some remains o" the labyrinth that covered a whole
province# and had a hundred temples disposed among its several 8uarters and divisions.
The wall o" $hina is one o" these 6astern pieces o" magni"icence# which ma4es a "igure even in the
map o" the world# although an account o" it would have been thought "abulous# were not the wall
itsel" still e2tant. 5e are obliged to devotion "or the noblest buildings that have adorned the several
countries o" the world. 't is this which has set men at wor4 on temples and public places o" worship#
not only that they might# by the magni"icence o" the building# invite the 9eity to reside within it# but
that such stupendous wor4s might# at the same time# open the mind to vast conceptions# and "it it to
converse with the divinity o" the place. :or everything that is ma+estic imprints an aw"ulness and
reverence on the mind o" the beholder# and stri4es in with the natural greatness o" the soul.
'n the second place we are to consider greatness of manner in architecture# which has such "orce
upon the imagination# that a small building# where it appears# shall give the mind nobler ideas than
one o" twenty times the bul4# where the manner is ordinary or little. Thus# perhaps# a man would
have been more astonished with the ma+estic air that appeared in one o" -sippus.s statues o"
Ale/ander# though no bigger than the li"e# than he might have been with <ount Athos# had it been
cut into the "igure o" the hero# according to the proposal o" Phidias# with a river in one hand and a
city in the other.
%et any one re"lect on the disposition o" mind he "inds in himsel"# at his "irst entrance into the
Pantheon at 0ome# and how his imagination is "illed with something great and ama?ing3 and at the
same time consider how little# in proportion# he is a""ected with the inside o" a @othic cathedral#
though it be "ive times larger than the other3 which can arise "rom nothing else# but the greatness o"
the manner in the one# and the meanness in the other.
' have seen an observation upon this sub+ect in a %rench author# which very much pleased me. 't is
in <onsieur %r1ard.s (arallel o" the Ancient and <odern Architecture. ' shall give it the reader with
the same terms o" art which he has made use o": * am observing# says he a thing #hich in m
opinion is ver curious, #hence it proceeds, that in the same quantit of superficies, the one manner
seems great and magnificent, and the other poor and trifling; the reason is fine and uncommon2 *
sa then, that to introduce into architecture this grandeur of manner, #e ought so to proceed, that
the division of the principal members of the order ma consist but of fe# parts, that the be all great
and of a bold and ample relievo, and s#elling; and that the ee, beholding nothing little and mean,
the imagination ma be more vigorousl touched and affected #ith the #or3 that stands before it2
%or e/ample, in a cornice, if the gola or cnatium of the corona, the coping, the modillions or dentelli,
ma3e a noble sho# b their graceful projections, if #e see none of that ordinar confusion #hich is
the result of those little cavities, quarter rounds of the astragal, and * 3no# not ho# man other
intermingled particulars, #hich produce no effect in great and mass #or3s, and #hich ver
unprofitabl ta3e up place to the prejudice of the principal member, it is most certain that this
manner #ill appear solemn and great; as, on the contrar, that #ill have but a poor and mean effect
#here there is a redundanc of those smaller ornaments, #hich divide and scatter the angles of the
sight into such a multitude of ras, so pressed together that the #hole #ill appear but a confusion.
Among all the "igures in architecture# there are none that have a greater air than the concave and
the conve23 and we "ind in all the ancient and modern architecture# as well in the remote parts o"
$hina as in countries nearer home# that round pillars and vaulted roo"s ma4e a great part o" those
buildings which are designed "or pomp and magni"icence. The reason ' ta4e to be# because in these
"igures we generally see more o" the body than in those o" other 4inds. There are# indeed# "igures o"
bodies where the eye may ta4e in two-thirds o" the sur"ace3 but as in such bodies the sight must split
upon several angles# it does not ta4e in one uni"orm idea# but several ideas o" the same 4ind. %oo4
upon the outside o" a dome# your eye hal" surrounds it3 loo4 up into the inside# and at one glance you
have all the prospect o" it3 the entire concavity "alls into your eye at once# the sight being as the
centre that collects and gathers into it the lines o" the whole circum"erence. 'n a s8uare pillar# the
sight o"ten ta4es in but a "ourth part o" the sur"ace# and# in a s8uare concave# must move up and
down to the di""erent sides# be"ore it is master o" all the inward sur"ace. :or this reason# the "ancy is
in"initely more struc4 with the view o" the open air# and s4ies# that passes through an arch# than what
comes through a s8uare# or any other "igure. The "igure o" the rainbow does not contribute less to its
magni"icence# than the colours to its beauty# as it is very poetically described by the son o" Sirach:
-oo3 upon the rainbo#, and praise !im that made it; ver beautiful it is in its brightness; it
encompasses the heavens #ith a glorious circle, and the hands of the 4ost !igh have bended it.
)6cclus. 4D. 11*
aving thus spo4en o" that greatness which a""ects the mind in architecture# ' might ne2t show the
pleasure that rises in the imagination "rom what appears new and beauti"ul in this art3 but as every
beholder has naturally a greater taste o" these two per"ections in every building which o""ers itsel" to
his view than o" that which ' have hitherto considered# ' shall not trouble my reader with any
re"lections upon it. 't is su""icient "or my present purpose to observe that there is nothing in this whole
art which pleases the imagination# but as it is great# uncommon# or beauti"ul.
Spectator. No 41-. :riday$# June 2$# 1$12
5uatenus hoc simile est oculis, quod mente videmus2 %!A1.
)%ucretius# De rerum natura# 4. $GH: 7ecause the ob+ects that we "ancy in our mind
represent what we see in the eye.*
' AT "irst divided the pleasures o" the imagination into such as arise "rom ob+ects that are actually
be"ore our eyes# or that once entered in at our eyes# and are a"terwards called up into the mind#
either barely by its own operations# or on occasion o" something without us# as statues or
descriptions. 5e have already considered the "irst division# and shall there"ore enter on the other#
which# "or distinction sa4e# ' have called the secondary pleasures o" the imagination. 5hen ' say the
ideas we receive "rom statues# descriptions# or such li4e occasions# are the same that were once
actually in our view# it must not be understood that we had once seen the very place# action# or
person which are carved or described. 't is su""icient that we have seen places# persons# or actions#
in general# which bear a resemblance# or at least some remote analogy with what we "ind
represented. ;ince it is in the power o" the imagination# when it is once stoc4ed with particular ideas#
to enlarge# compound# and vary them at her own pleasure.
Among the di""erent 4inds o" representation# statuar is the most natural# and shows us something
li3est the ob+ect that is represented. To ma4e use o" a common instance# let one who is born blind
ta4e an image in his hands# and trace out with his "ingers the di""erent "urrows and impressions o"
the chisel# and he will easily conceive how the shape o" a man# or beast# may be represented by it3
but should he draw his hand over a picture# where all is smooth and uni"orm# he would never be able
to imagine how the several prominences and depressions o" a human body could be shown on a
plain piece o" canvas that has in it no unevenness or irregularity. Description runs yet "urther "rom
the things it represents than painting3 "or a picture bears a real resemblance to its original# which
letters and syllables are wholly void o". Aolours spea4 all languages# but words are understood only
by such a people or nation. :or this reason# though menEs necessities 8uic4ly put them on "inding out
speech# writing is probably o" a later invention than painting3 particularly we are told that in America#
when the Spaniards "irst arrived there# e2presses were sent to the 6mperor o" 4e/ico in paint# and
the news o" his country delineated by the stro4es o" a pencil# which was a more natural way than
that o" writing# though at the same time much more imper"ect# because it is impossible to draw the
little connections o" speech# or to give the picture o" a con+unction or an adverb. 't would be yet more
strange to represent visible ob+ects by sounds that have no ideas anne2ed to them# and to ma4e
something li4e description in music. Bet it is certain there may be con"used# imper"ect notions o" this
nature raised in the imagination by an arti"icial composition o" notes3 and we "ind that great masters
in the art are able# sometimes# to set their hearers in the heat and hurry o" a battle# to overcast their
minds with melancholy scenes and apprehensions o" deaths and "unerals# or to lull them into
pleasing dreams o" groves and elysiums.
'n all these instances this secondary pleasure o" the imagination proceeds "rom that action o" the
mind which compares the ideas arising "rom the original ob+ects# with the ideas we receive "rom the
statue# picture# description# or sound that represents them. 't is impossible "or us to give the
necessary reason why this operation o" the mind is attended with so much pleasure# as ' have
be"ore observed on the same occasion3 but we "ind a great variety o" entertainments derived "rom
this single principle: "or it is this that not only gives us a relish o" statuary# painting# and description#
but ma4es us delight in all the actions and arts o" mimicry. 't is this that ma4es the several 4inds o"
wit pleasant# which consists# as ' have "ormerly shown# in the a""inity o" ideas: and we may add# it is
this also that raises the little satis"action we sometimes "ind in the di""erent sorts o" "alse wit3 whether
it consist in the a""inity o" letters# as in anagram# acrostic3 or o" syllables# as in doggerel rhymes#
echoes3 or o" words# as in puns# 8uibbles3 or o" a whole sentence or poem# to wings# and altars. The
final cause# probably# o" anne2ing pleasure to this operation o" the mind was to 8uic4en and
encourage us in our searches a"ter truth# since the distinguishing one thing "rom another# and the
right discerning betwi2t our ideas# depends wholly upon our comparing them together# and observing
the congruity or disagreement that appears among the several wor4s o" Nature.
7ut ' shall here con"ine mysel" to those pleasures o" the imagination which proceed "rom ideas
raised by #ords# because most o" the observations that agree with descriptions are e8ually
applicable to painting and statuary.
5ords# when well chosen# have so great a "orce in them# that a description o"ten gives us more lively
ideas than the sight o" things themselves. The reader "inds a scene drawn in stronger colours# and
painted more to the li"e in his imagination by the help o" words# than by an actual survey o" the scene
which they describe. 'n this case the poet seems to get the better o" Nature3 he ta4es# indeed# the
landscape a"ter her# but gives it more vigorous touches# heightens its beauty# and so enlivens the
whole piece that the images which "low "rom the ob+ects themselves appear wea4 and "aint in
comparison o" those that come "rom the e2pressions. The reason probably may be# because in the
survey o" any ob+ect we have only so much o" it painted on the imagination as comes in at the eye3
but in its description the poet gives us as "ree a view o" it as he pleases# and discovers to us several
parts that either we did not attend to# or that lay out o" our sight when we "irst beheld it. As we loo4
on any ob+ect our idea o" it is# perhaps# made up o" two or three simple ideas3 but when the poet
represents it# he may either give us a more comple2 idea o" it# or only raise in us such ideas as are
most apt to a""ect the imagination.
't may be here worth our while to e2amine how it comes to pass that several readers# who are all
ac8uainted with the same language# and 4now the meaning o" the words they read# should
nevertheless have a di""erent relish o" the same descriptions. 5e "ind one transported with a
passage which another runs over with coldness and indi""erence# or "inding the representation
e2tremely natural# where another can perceive nothing o" li4eness and con"ormity. This di""erent
taste must proceed either "rom the perfection of imagination in one more than in another# or "rom the
different ideas that several readers a""i2 to the same words. :or to have a true relish and "orm a right
+udgment o" a description# a man should be born with a good imagination# and must have well
weighed the "orce and energy that lie in the several words o" a language# so as to be able to
distinguish which are most signi"icant and e2pressive o" their proper ideas# and what additional
strength and beauty they are capable o" receiving "rom con+unction with others. The "ancy must be
warm to retain the print o" those images it hath received "rom outward ob+ects3 and the +udgment
discerning# to 4now what e2pressions are most proper to clothe and adorn them to the best
advantage. A man who is de"icient in either o" these respects# though he may receive the general
notion o" a description# can never see distinctly all its particular beauties3 as a person with a wea4
sight may have the con"used prospect o" a place that lies be"ore him# without entering into its several
parts# or discerning the variety o" its colours in their "ull glory and per"ection.
Spectator. No 41$. ;aturday# June 2.# 1$12
5uem tu 4elpornene semel
6ascentem placido lumine videris,
*llum non labor lsthmius
$lararbit pugilem, non equus impiger, 'c2
Sed quae Tibur aquaef ertile perfluunt
Et Spissae nemorum coma
%ingent Aeolio carmine nobilem. 01.
)orace: "des. 4. D. 1-4# 1H-12 :
e whose birth the muse# <elpomene#
ast welcomed with a smile#
5ill never by the bo2erEs s4ill
7e renownEd abroad# nor "or 'sthmian mastery striving.
7ut the cool streams that ma4e green Tibur "lourish
And the tangled "orest deep
;hall nourish his "ame on so"t Aeolian airs.*
56 may observe# that any single circumstance o" what we have "ormerly seen o"ten raises up a
whole scene o" imagery# and awa4ens numberless ideas that be"ore slept in the imagination3 such a
particular smell or colour is able to "ill the mind# on a sudden# with the picture o" the "ields or gardens
where we "irst met with it# and to bring up into view all the variety o" images that once attended it.
0ur imagination ta4es the hint# and leads us une2pectedly into cities or theatres# plains or meadows.
5e may "urther observe# when the "ancy thus re"lects on the scenes that have passed in it "ormerly#
those which were at "irst pleasant to behold appear more so upon re"lection# and that the memory
heightens the delight"ulness o" the original. A $artesian would account "or both these instances in
the "ollowing manner.
The set o" ideas# which we received "rom such a prospect or garden# having entered the mind at the
same time# have a set o" traces belonging to them in the brain# bordering very near upon one
another3 when# there"ore# any one o" these ideas arises in the imagination# and conse8uently
dispatches a "low o" animal spirits to its proper trace# these spirits# in the violence o" their motion# run
not only into the trace to which they were more particularly directed# but into several o" those that lie
about it: by this means they awa4en other ideas o" the same set# which immediately determine a
new dispatch o" spirits that in the same manner open other neighboring traces# till at last the whole
set o" them is blown up# and the whole prospect or garden "lourishes in the imagination. 7ut because
the pleasure we received "rom these places "ar surmounted and overcame the little
disagreeableness we "ound in them# "or this reason there was at "irst a wider passage worn in the
pleasure traces# and# on the contrary# so narrow a one in those which belonged to the disagreeable
ideas# that they were 8uic4ly stopped up# and rendered incapable o" receiving any animal spirits# and
conse8uently o" e2citing any unpleasant ideas in the memory.
't would be in vain to in8uire whether the power o" imagining things strongly proceeds "rom any
greater per"ection in the soul# or "rom any nicer te2ture in the brain o" one man than o" another. 7ut
this is certain# that a noble writer should be born with this "aculty in its "ull strength and vigor# so as to
be able to receive lively ideas "rom outward ob+ects# to retain them long# and to range them together#
upon occasion# in such "igures and representations as are most li4ely to hit the "ancy o" the reader. A
poet should ta4e as much pains in "orming his imagination as a philosopher in cultivating his
understanding. e must gain a due relish o" the wor4s o" Nature# and be thoroughly conversant in
the various scenery o" a country li"e.
5hen he is stored with country images# i" he would go beyond pastoral and the lower 4inds o"
poetry# he ought to ac8uaint himsel" with the pomp and magni"icence o" courts. e should be very
well versed in everything that is noble and stately in the productions o" art# whether it appear in
painting or statuary# in the great wor4s o" architecture which are in their present glory# or in the ruins
o" those which "lourished in "ormer ages.
;uch advantages as these help to open a manEs thoughts# and to enlarge his imagination# and will
there"ore have their in"luence on all 4inds o" writing i" the author 4nows how to ma4e right use o"
them. And among those o" the learned languages who e2cel in this talent# the most per"ect in their
several 4inds are# perhaps# !omer# 7irgil# and "vid. The "irst stri4es the imagination wonder"ully with
what is great# the second with what is beauti"ul# and the last with what is strange. 1eading the *liad is
li4e traveling through a country uninhabited# where the "ancy is entertained with a thousand savage
prospects o" vast deserts# wide uncultivated marshes# huge "orests# misshapen roc4s# and
precipices. 0n the contrary# the Aeneid is li4e a well-ordered garden# where it is impossible to "ind
out any part unadorned# or to cast our eyes upon a single spot that does not produce some beauti"ul
plant or "lower. 7ut when we are in the 4etamorphoses# we are wal4ing on enchanted ground# and
see nothing but scenes o" magic lying round us.
!omer is in his province when he is describing a battle or a multitude# a hero or a god. 7irgil is never
better pleased than when he is in his elysium# or copying out an entertaining picture. !omerEs
epithets generally mar4 out what is great# 7irgilEs what is agreeable. Nothing can be more
magni"icent than the "igure ,upiter ma4es in the "irst *liad# nor more charming than that o" 7enus in
the "irst Aeneid:
As he spo4e the son o" ;aturn bowed his dar4 brows# and the ambrosial loc4s swayed on
his immortal head# till vast 0lympus reeled.
)trans. 7utler* )omer# *lliad# '. G2.-DH*
Di/it, ' avertens rosea cervice refulsit:
Ambrosiaeque comae divinum vertice odorem
Spiravere: pedes vestis deflu/it ad imos:
Et vera incessu patuit dea 2 2 .
Thus having said# she turnEd# and made appear
er nec4 re"ulgent# and dishevelEd hair#
5hich# "lowing "rom her shoulders# reachEd the ground.
And widely spread ambrosial scents around:
'n length o" train descends her sweeping gown3
And# by her grace"ul wal4# the Iueen o" %ove is 4nown.
)trans. 9ryden* )=irgil# Aeneid# '# 4H2-G*
!omerEs persons are most o" them godli4e and terrible: 7irgil has scarce admitted any into his poem
who are not beauti"ul# and has ta4en particular care to ma4e his hero so.
. 2 2 -umenque juventae
Purpureum, ' laetos oculis afflarat honores2
And givEn his rolling eyes a spar4ling grace#
And breathEd a youth"ul vigor on his "ace.
)trans. 9ryden* )=irgil# Aeneid# '. G,H-1*
'n a word# !omer "ills his readers with sublime ideas# and# ' believe# has raised the imagination o" all
the good poets that have come a"ter him. ' shall only instance !orace# who immediately ta4es "ire at
the "irst hint o" any passage in the *liad or "dsse# and always rises above himsel" when he has
!omer in his view. 7irgil has drawn together into his Aeneid all the pleasing scenes his sub+ect is
capable o" admitting# and in his )eorgics has given us a collection o" the most delight"ul landscapes
that can be made out o" "ields and woods# herds o" cattle# and swarms o" bees.
"vid# in his 4etamorphoses# has shown us how the imagination may be a""ected by what is strange.
e describes a miracle in every story# and always gives us the sight o" some new creature at the
end o" it. is art consists chie"ly in well-timing his description be"ore the "irst shape is 8uite worn o""#
and the new one per"ectly "inished3 so that he everywhere entertains us with something we never
saw be"ore# and shows monster a"ter monster to the end o" the 4etamorphoses.
'" ' were to name a poet that is a per"ect master in all these arts o" wor4ing on the imagination# ' thin4
4ilton may pass "or one: and i" his Paradise -ost "alls short o" the Aeneid or *liad in this respect# it
proceeds rather "rom the "ault o" the language in which it is written than "rom any de"ect o" genius in
the author. ;o divine a poem in English is li4e a stately palace built o" bric4# where one may see
architecture in as great a per"ection as in one o" marble# though the materials are o" a coarser
nature. 7ut to consider it only as it regards our present sub+ect: what can be conceived greater than
the battle o" angels# the ma+esty o" <essiah# the stature and behavior o" ;atan and his peers F 5hat
more beauti"ul than pandemonium# paradise# heaven# angels# Adam and EveF 5hat more strange
than the creation o" the world# the several metamorphoses o" the "allen angels# and the surprising
adventures their leader meets with in his search a"ter paradise F No other sub+ect could have
"urnished a poet with scenes so proper to stri4e the imagination# as no other poet could have painted
those scenes in more strong and lively colours.
Spectator. No 41.. <onday# June DH# 1$12
. . . ferat ' rubus asper amomum. ='1@.
)=irgil: Eclogues# D. .,: And myrrh instead o" thorns shall grow.*
The pleasures o" these secondary views o" the imagination# are o" a wider and more universal nature
than those it has when +oined with sight3 "or not only what is great# strange# or beauti"ul# but anything
that is disagreeable when loo4ed upon# pleases us in an apt description. ere# there"ore# we must
in8uire a"ter a new principle o" pleasure# which is nothing else but the action o" the mind# which
compares the ideas that arise "rom words# with the ideas that arise "rom the ob+ects themselves3 and
why this operation o" the mind is attended with so much pleasure# we have be"ore considered. :or
this reason# there"ore# the description o" a dunghill is pleasing to the imagination# i" the image be
represented to our minds by suitable e2pressions3 though# perhaps# this may be more properly
called the pleasure o" the understanding than o" the "ancy# because we are not so much delighted
with the image that is contained in the description# as with the aptness o" the description to e2cite the
image.
7ut i" the description o" what is little# common or de"ormed# be acceptable to the imagination# the
description o" what is great# surprising# or beauti"ul# is much more so3 because here we are not only
delighted with comparing the representation with the original# but are highly pleased with the original
itsel". <ost readers# ' believe# are more charmed with 4iltonEs description o" paradise# than o" hell3
they are both# perhaps# e8ually per"ect in their 4ind# but in the one the brimstone and sulphur are not
so re"reshing to the imagination# as the beds o" "lowers and the wilderness o" sweets in the other.
There is yet another circumstance which recommends a description more than all the rest# and that
is# i" it represents to us such ob+ects as are apt to raise a secret "erment in the mind o" the reader#
and to wor4 with violence upon his passions. :or# in this case# we are at once warmed and
enlightened so that the pleasure becomes more universal# and is several ways 8uali"ied to entertain
us. Thus# in painting# it is pleasant to loo4 on the picture o" any "ace# where the resemblance is hit#
but the pleasure increases# i" it be the picture o" a "ace that is beauti"ul# and is still greater# i" the
beauty be so"tened with an air o" melancholy or sorrow. The two leading passions which the more
serious parts o" poetry endeavour to stir up in us# are terror and pity. And here# by the way# one
would wonder how it comes to pass# that such passions as are very unpleasant at all other times#
are very agreeable when e2cited by proper descriptions. 't is not strange that we should ta4e delight
in such passages as are apt to produce hope# +oy# admiration# love# or the li4e emotions in us#
because they never rise in the mind without an inward pleasure which attends them. 7ut how comes
it to pass# that we should ta4e delight in being terri"ied or de+ected by a description# when we "ind so
much uneasiness in the "ear or grie" which we receive "rom any other occasionF
'" we consider# there"ore# the nature o" this pleasure# we shall "ind that it does not arise so properly
"rom the description o" what is terrible# as "rom the re"lection we ma4e on ourselves at the time o"
reading it. 5hen we loo4 on such hideous ob+ects# we are not a little pleased to thin4 we are in no
danger o" them. 5e consider them# at the same time# as dread"ul and harmless3 so that the more
"right"ul appearance they ma4e# the greater is the pleasure we receive "rom the sense o" our own
sa"ety. 'n short# we loo4 upon the terrors o" a description# with the same curiosity and satis"action
that we survey a dead monster:
. . .*nforme cadaver
Protrahitur; nequeunt e/pleri corda tuendo
Terribiles oculos: vultum, villosaque saetis
Pectora semiferi, atque e/tinctos faucibus ignes2 ='1@.
The wondEring neighborhood# with glad surprise#
7ehold his shagged breast# his giant si?e#
is mouth that "lames no more# and his e2tinguishEd eyes.
)trans. 9ryden* )=irgil: Aeneid# .. 2-4-$J
't is "or the same reason that we are delighted with the re"lecting upon dangers that are past# or in
loo4ing on a precipice at a distance# which would "ill us with a di""erent 4ind o" horror# i" we saw it
hanging over our heads.
'n the li4e manner# when we read o" torments# wounds# deaths# and the li4e dismal accidents# our
pleasure does not "low so properly "rom the grie" which such melancholy descriptions give us# as
"rom the secret comparison which we ma4e between ourselves and the person who su""ers. ;uch
representations teach us to set a +ust value upon our own condition# and ma4e us pri?e our good
"ortune which e2empts us "rom the li4e calamities. This is# however# such a 4ind o" pleasure as we
are not capable o" receiving# when we see a person actually lying under the tortures that we meet
with in a description3 because# in this case# the ob+ect presses too close upon our senses# and bears
so hard upon us# that it does not give us time or leisure to re"lect on ourselves. 0ur thoughts are so
intent upon the miseries o" the su""erer# that we cannot turn them upon our own happiness.
5hereas# on the contrary# we consider the mis"ortunes we read in history or poetry# either as past#
or as "ictitious# so that the re"lection upon ourselves rises in us insensibly# and overbears the sorrow
we conceive "or the su""erings o" the a""licted.
7ut because the mind o" man re8uires something more per"ect in matter# than what it "inds there#
and can never meet with any sight in nature which su""iciently answers its highest ideas o"
pleasantness3 or# in other words# because the imagination can "ancy to itsel" things more great#
strange# or beauti"ul# than the eye ever saw# and is still sensible o" some de"ect in what it has seen3
on this account it is the part o" a poet to humour the imagination in its own notions# by mending and
per"ecting nature where he describes a reality# and by adding greater beauties than are put together
in nature# where he describes a "iction.
e is not obliged to attend her in the slow advances which she ma4es "rom one season to another#
or to observe her conduct# in the successive production o" plants and "lowers. e may draw into his
description all the beauties o" the spring and autumn# and ma4e the whole year contribute something
to render it the more agreeable. is rose-trees# woodbines# and +essamines may "lower together#
and his beds be covered at the same time with lilies# violets# and amaranths. is soil is not
restrained to any particular set o" plants# but is proper either "or oa4s or myrtles# and adapts itsel" to
the products o" every climate. 0ranges may grow wild in it3 myrrh may be met with in every hedge#
and i" he thin4s it proper to have a grove o" spices# he can 8uic4ly command sun enough to raise it.
'" all this will not "urnish out an agreeable scene# he can ma4e several new species o" "lowers# with
richer scents and higher colours# than any that grow in the gardens o" Nature. is consorts o" birds
may be as "ull and harmonious# and his woods as thic4 and gloomy as he pleases. e is at no more
e2pense in a long vista than a short one# and can as easily throw his cascades "rom a precipice o"
hal" a mile high# as "rom one o" twenty yards. e has his choice o" the winds# and can turn the
course o" his rivers in all the variety o" meanders that are most delight"ul to the readerEs imagination.
'n a word# he has the modeling o" Nature in his own hands# and may give her what charms he
pleases# provided he does not re"orm her too much# and run into absurdities# by endeavoring to
e2cel.
The Spectator No. 41,# Tuesday# July 1# 1$12
. . . mentis gratissimus error. 01.
)orace# Epistles# 2# 2# 14H: a most grati"ying delusion.*
There is a 4ind o" writing wherein the poet 8uite loses sight o" Nature# and entertains his readerEs
imagination with the characters and actions o" such persons as have many o" them no e2istence but
what he bestows on them3 such are "airies# witches# magicians# demons# and departed spirits. This
<r. Drden calls the fair #a of #riting# which is# indeed# more di""icult than any other that depends
on the poetEs "ancy# because he has no pattern to "ollow in it# and must wor4 altogether out o" his
own invention.
There is a very odd turn o" thought re8uired "or this 4ind o" writing# and it is impossible "or a poet to
succeed in it# who has not a particular cast o" "ancy# and an imagination naturally "ruit"ul and
superstitious. 7esides this# he ought to be very well versed in legends and "ables# anti8uated
romances# and the traditions o" nurses and old women# that he may "all in with our natural
pre+udices# and humour those notions which we have imbibed in our in"ancy. :or# otherwise# he will
be apt to ma4e his "airies tal4 li4e people o" his own species# and not li4e other sets o" beings# who
converse with di""erent ob+ects# and thin4 in a di""erent manner "rom that o" man4ind.
Slvis deducti caveant, me judice, %auni,
6e velut innati triviis ac paene forenses,
Aut nimium teneris juvenentur versibus . . . 01.
'n my +udgment the :auns# that are brought out o" the woods# should not be too gamesome
with their tender strains# as i" they were educated in the city# and almost at the bar3 nor# on
the other hand# should blunder out their obscene and scandalous speeches.
)trans. 7uc4ley* )orace# Ars poetica# 244--*
' do not say with <r. +aes# in the 0ehearsal# that spirits must not be con"ined to spea4 sense# but it
is certain their sense ought to be a little discoloured# that it may seem particular# and proper to the
person and the condition o" the spea4er.
These descriptions raise a pleasing 4ind o" horror in the mind o" the reader# and amuse his
imagination with the strangeness and novelty o" the persons who are represented in them. They
bring up into our memory the stories we have heard in our childhood# and "avour those secret terrors
and apprehensions to which the mind o" man is naturally sub+ect. 5e are pleased with surveying the
di""erent habits and behaviours o" "oreign countries# how much more must we be delighted and
surprised when we are led# as it were# into a new creation# and see the persons and manners o"
another speciesF <en o" cold "ancies# and philosophical dispositions# ob+ect to this 4ind o" poetry#
that it has not probability enough to a""ect the imagination. 7ut to this it may be answered# that we
are sure# in general# there are many intellectual beings in the world besides ourselves# and several
species o" spirits# who are sub+ect to di""erent laws and economies "rom those o" man4ind3 when we
see# there"ore# any o" these represented naturally# we cannot loo4 upon the representation as
altogether impossible3 nay# many are prepossessed with such "alse opinions# as dispose them to
believe these particular delusions3 at least# we have all heard so many pleasing relations in "avour o"
them# that we do not care "or seeing through the "alsehood and willingly give ourselves up to so
agreeable an imposture. The ancients have not much o" this poetry among them# "or# indeed# almost
the whole substance o" it owes its original to the dar4ness and superstition o" later ages# when pious
"rauds were made use o" to amuse man4ind# and "righten them into a sense o" their duty. 0ur
"ore"athers loo4ed upon nature with more reverence and horror# be"ore the world was enlightened by
learning and philosophy# and loved to astonish themselves with the apprehensions o" witchcra"t#
prodigies# charms# and enchantments. There was not a village in 6ngland that had not a ghost in it#
the churchyards were all haunted# every large common had a circle o" "airies belonging to it# and
there was scarce a shepherd to be met with who had not seen a spirit. Among all the poets o" this
4ind our 6nglish are much the best# by what ' have yet seen# whether it be that we abound with more
stories o" this nature# or that the genius o" our country is "itter "or this sort o" poetry. :or the 6nglish
are naturally "anci"ul# and very o"ten disposed by that gloominess and melancholy o" temper# which
is so "re8uent in our nation# to many wild notions and visions# to which others are not so liable.
Among the 6nglish# ;ha4espeare has incomparably e2celled all others. That noble e2travagance o"
"ancy# which he had in so great per"ection# thoroughly 8uali"ied him to touch this wea4 superstitious
part o" his readerEs imagination# and made him capable o" succeeding# where he had nothing to
support him besides the strength o" his own genius. There is something so wild and yet so solemn in
the speeches o" his ghosts# "airies# witches# and the li4e imaginary persons# that we cannot "orbear
thin4ing them natural# though we have no rule by which to +udge o" them# and must con"ess# i" there
are such beings in the world# it loo4s highly probable they should tal4 and act as he has represented
them. There is another sort o" imaginary beings that we sometimes meet with among the poets#
when the author represents any passion# appetite# virtue# or vice# under a visible shape# and ma4es
it a person or an actor in his poem. 0" this nature are the descriptions o" unger and 6nvy in 0vid#
o" :ame in =irgil# and o" ;in and 9eath in <ilton. 5e "ind a whole creation o" the li4e shadowy
persons in ;penser# who had an admirable talent in representations o" this 4ind. ' have discoursed
o" these emblematical persons in "ormer papers# and shall there"ore only mention them in this place.
Thus we see how many ways poetry addresses itsel" to the imagination# as it has not only the whole
circle o" nature "or its province# but ma4es new worlds o" its own# shows us persons who are not to
be "ound in being# and represents even the "aculties o" the soul# with her several virtues and vices# in
a sensible shape and character. ' shall# in my two "ollowing papers# consider in general how other
4inds o" writing are 8uali"ied to please the imagination# with which ' intend to conclude this essay.
The Spectator No 42H. 5ednesday# July 2# 1$12
. . . 5uocunque volent animum auditoris agunto. 01.
)orace# Ars Poetica. 100: And ta4e menEs spirits where they will. *
As the writers in poetry and "iction borrow their several materials "rom outward ob+ects# and +oin
them together at their own pleasure# there are others who are obliged to "ollow Nature more closely#
and to ta4e entire scenes out o" her. ;uch are historians# natural philosophers# travelers#
geographers# and# in a word# all who describe visible ob+ects o" a real e2istence.
't is the most agreeable talent o" an historian# to be able to draw up his armies and "ight his battles in
proper e2pressions# to set be"ore our eyes the divisions# cabals# and +ealousies o" great men# and to
lead us step by step into the several actions and events o" his history. 5e love to see the sub+ect
un"olding itsel" by +ust degrees# and brea4ing upon us insensibly# that so we may be 4ept in a
pleasing suspense# and have time given us to raise our e2pectations# and to side with one o" the
parties concerned in the relation. ' con"ess this shows more the art than the veracity o" the historian#
but ' am only to spea4 o" him as he is 8uali"ied to please the imagination. And in this respect -iv
has perhaps e2celled all who went be"ore him# or have written since his time. e describes
everything in so lively a manner# that his whole history is an admirable picture# and touches on such
proper circumstances in every story# that this reader becomes a 4ind o" spectator# and "eels in
himsel" all the variety o" passions which are correspondent to the several parts o" the relation.
7ut among this set o" writers there are none who more grati"y and enlarge the imagination than the
authors o" the new philosophy# whether we consider their theories o" the earth or heavens# the
discoveries they have made by glasses# or any other o" their contemplations on nature. 5e are not a
little pleased to "ind every green lea" swarm with millions o" animals that at their largest growth are
not visible to the na4ed eye. There is something very engaging to the "ancy# as well as to our
reason# in the treatises o" metals# minerals# plants# and meteors3 but when we survey the whole
earth at once# and the several planets that lie within its neighborhood# we are "illed with a pleasing
astonishment# to see so many worlds hanging one above another# and sliding round their a2les in
such an ama?ing pomp and solemnity. '" a"ter this we contemplate those wide "ields o" ether# that
reach in height as "ar as "rom Saturn to the "i2ed stars# and run abroad almost to an in"initude# our
imagination "inds its capacity "illed with so immense a prospect# and puts itsel" upon the stretch to
comprehend it. 7ut i" we yet rise higher# and consider the "i2ed stars as so many vast oceans o"
"lame# that are each o" them attended with a di""erent set o" planets# and still discover new
"irmaments and new lights# that are sun4 "arther in those un"athomable depths o" ether# so as not to
be seen by the strongest o" our telescopes# we are lost in such a labyrinth o" suns and worlds# and
con"ounded with the immensity and magni"icence o" Nature.
Nothing is more pleasant to the "ancy# than to enlarge itsel"# by degrees# in its contemplation o" the
various proportions which its several ob+ects bear to each other# when it compares the body o" man
to the bul4 o" the whole earth# the earth to the circle it describes round the sun# that circle to the
sphere o" the "i2ed stars# the sphere o" the "i2ed stars to the circuit o" the whole creation# the whole
creation itsel" to the in"inite space that is everywhere di""used about it3 or when the imagination
wor4s downward# and considers the bul4 o" a human body# in respect o" an animal a hundred times
less than a mite# the particular limbs o" such an animal# the di""erent springs which actuate the limbs#
the spirits which set these springs a-going# and the proportionable minuteness o" these several
parts# be"ore they have arrived at their "ull growth and per"ection. 7ut i"# a"ter all this# we ta4e the
least particle o" these animal spirits# and consider its capacity o" being wrought into a world# that
shall contain within those narrow dimensions a heaven and earth# stars and planets# and every
di""erent species o" living creatures# in the same analogy and proportion they bear to each other in
our own universe3 such a speculation# by reason o" its nicety# appears ridiculous to those who have
not turned their thoughts that way# though# at the same time# it is "ounded on no less than the
evidence o" a demonstration. Nay# we might yet carry it "arther# and discover in the smallest particle
o" this little world# a new ine2hausted "und o" matter# capable o" being spun out into another
universe.
' have dwelt the longer on this sub+ect# because ' thin4 it may show us the proper limits# as well as
the de"ectiveness# o" our imagination3 how it is con"ined to a very small 8uantity o" space# and
immediately stopped in its operations# when it endeavors to ta4e in anything that is very great# or
very little. %et a man try to conceive the di""erent bul4 o" an animal which is twenty# "rom another
which is a hundred times less than a mite# or to compare# in his thoughts# a length o" a thousand
diameters o" the earth with that o" a million# and he will 8uic4ly "ind that he has no di""erent measures
in his mind# ad+usted to such e2traordinary degrees o" grandeur or minuteness. The understanding#
indeed# opens an in"inite space on every side o" us# but the imagination# a"ter a "ew "aint e""orts# is
immediately at a stand# and "inds hersel" swallowed up in the immensity o" the void that surrounds it.
0ur reason can pursue a particle o" matter through an in"inite variety o" divisions# but the "ancy soon
loses sight o" it# and "eels in itsel" a 4ind o" chasm# that wants to be "illed with matter o" a more
sensible bul4. 5e can neither widen nor contract the "aculty to the dimensions o" either e2treme.
The ob+ect is too big "or our capacity# when we would comprehend the circum"erence o" a world# and
dwindles into nothing# when we endeavor a"ter the idea o" an atom.
't is possible this de"ect o" imagination may not be in the soul itsel"# but as it acts in con+unction with
the body. (erhaps there may not be room in the brain "or such a variety o" impressions# or the
animal spirits may be incapable o" "iguring them in such a manner# as is necessary to e2cite so very
large or very minute ideas. owever it be# we may well suppose that beings o" a higher nature very
much e2cel us in this respect# as it is probable the soul o" man will be in"initely more per"ect
herea"ter in this "aculty# as well as in all the rest3 insomuch that# perhaps# the imagination will be able
to 4eep pace with the understanding# and to "orm in itsel" distinct ideas o" all the di""erent modes and
8uantities o" space.
The Spectator No 421. Thursday# July D# 1$12
*gnotis errare locis, ignota videre
%umina gaudebat; studio minuente laborem2 0=.
)0vid# 4etamorphoses# 4. 2,4-,G: e loved to roam through unimagined places# by the
ban4s o" undiscovered rivers3 and the +oy o" "inding wonders made his labour light. &@olding
translation*/
The pleasures o" the imagination are not wholly con"ined to such particular authors as are
conversant in material ob+ects# but are o"ten to be met with among the polite masters o" morality#
criticism# and other speculations abstracted "rom matter# who# though they do not directly treat o" the
visible parts o" Nature# o"ten draw "rom them their similitudes# metaphors# and allegories. 7y these
allusions a truth in the understanding is as it were re"lected by the imagination3 we are able to see
something li4e colour and shape in a notion# and to discover a scheme o" thoughts traced out upon
matter. And here the mind receives a great deal o" satis"action# and has two o" its "aculties grati"ied
at the same time# while the "ancy is busy in copying a"ter the understanding# and transcribing ideas
out o" the intellectual world into the material.
The great art o" a writer shows itsel" in the choice o" pleasing allusions# which are generally to be
ta4en "rom the great or beautiful wor4s o" art or Nature "or though whatever is new or uncommon is
apt to delight the imagination# the chie" design o" an allusion being to illustrate and e2plain the
passages o" an author# it should be always borrowed "rom what is more 4nown and common# than
the passages which are to be e2plained.
Allegories# when well chosen# are li4e so many trac4s o" light in a discourse# that ma4e everything
about them clear and beauti"ul. A noble metaphor# when it is placed to an advantage# casts a 4ind o"
glory round it# and darts a luster through a whole sentence. These di""erent 4inds o" allusion are but
so many di""erent manners o" similitude# and# that they may please the imagination# the li4eness
ought to be very e2act# or very agreeable# as we love to see a picture where the resemblance is +ust#
or the posture and air grace"ul. 7ut we o"ten "ind eminent writers very "aulty in this respect3 great
scholars are apt to "etch their comparisons and allusions "rom the sciences in which they are most
conversant# so that a man may see the compass o" their learning in a treatise on the most indi""erent
sub+ect. ' have read a discourse upon love# which none but a pro"ound chemist could understand#
and have heard many a sermon that should only have been preached be"ore a congregation o"
$artesians. 0n the contrary# your men o" business usually have recourse to such instances as are
too mean and "amiliar. They are "or drawing the reader into a game o" chess or tennis# or "or leading
him "rom shop to shop# in the cant o" particular trades and employments. 't is certain# there may be
"ound an in"inite variety o" very agreeable allusions in both these 4inds# but# "or the generality# the
most entertaining ones lie in the wor4s o" Nature# which are obvious to all capacities# and more
delight"ul than what is to be "ound in arts and sciences.
't is this talent o" a""ecting the imagination# that gives an embellishment to good sense# and ma4es
one manEs compositions more agreeable than anotherEs. 't sets o"" all writings in general# but is the
very li"e and highest per"ection o" poetry. 5here it shines in an eminent degree# it has preserved
several poems "or many ages# that have nothing else to recommend them3 and where all the other
beauties are present# the wor4 appears dry and insipid# i" this single one be wanting. 't has
something in it li4e creation3 it bestows a 4ind o" e2istence# and draws up to the readers view several
ob+ects which are not to be "ound in being. 't ma4es additions to nature# and gives a greater variety
to @odEs wor4s. 'n a word# it is able to beauti"y and adorn the most illustrious scenes in the universe#
or to "ill the mind with more glorious shows and apparitions# than can be "ound in any part o" it.
5e have now discovered the several originals o" those pleasures that grati"y the "ancy3 and here#
perhaps# it would not be very di""icult to cast under their proper heads those contrary ob+ects# which
are apt to "ill it with distaste and terror3 "or the imagination is as liable to pain as pleasure. 5hen the
brain is hurt by any accident# or the mind disordered by dreams or sic4ness# the "ancy is overrun
with wild dismal ideas# and terri"ied with a thousand hideous monsters o" its own "raming.
Eumenidum veluti demens videt agmina Pentheus,
Et solem geminum, ' duplices se ostendere Thebas2
Aut Agamemnonius scenis agitatus "restes,
Armatam facibus matrem ' serpentibus atris
5uum videt, ultricesque sedent in limine Dirae2 =ir.
%i4e (entheus# when# distracted with his "ear#
e saw two suns# and double Thebes# appear3
0r mad 0restes# when his motherEs ghost
:ull in his "ace in"ernal torches tossEd#
And shoo4 her sna4y loc4s: he shuns the sight#
:lies oEer the stage# surprisEd with mortal "right3
The :uries guard the door and intercept his "light.
)trans. 9ryden* )=irgil# Aeneid# 4. 4-,-$D*
There is not a sight in Nature so morti"ying as that o" a distracted person# when his imagination is
troubled# and his whole soul disordered and con"used. +ablon in ruins is not so melancholy a
spectacle. 7ut to 8uit so disagreeable a sub+ect# ' shall only consider# by way o" conclusion# what an
in"inite advantage this "aculty gives an Almighty 7eing over the soul o" man# and how great a
measure o" happiness or misery we are capable o" receiving "rom the imagination only.
5e have already seen the in"luence that one man has over the "ancy o" another# and with what ease
he conveys into it a variety o" imagery3 how great a power then may we suppose lodged in im# who
4nows all the ways o" a""ecting the imagination# who can in"use what ideas e pleases# and "ill those
ideas with terror and delight to what degree e thin4s "itF e can e2cite images in the mind# without
the help o" words# and ma4e scenes rise up be"ore us and seem present to the eye# without the
assistance o" bodies or e2terior ob+ects. e can transport the imagination with such beauti"ul and
glorious visions as cannot possibly enter into our present conceptions# or haunt it with such ghastly
spectres and apparitions as would ma4e us hope "or annihilation# and thin4 e2istence no better than
a curse. 'n short# he can so e28uisitely ravish or torture the soul through this single "aculty# as might
su""ice to ma4e up the whole heaven or hell o" any "inite being.