Livy
has,
perhaps, excelled all who went before him, or have written since his
Time. He describes every thing in so lively a Manner, that his whole
History is an admirable Picture, and touches on such proper
Circumstances in every Story, that his Reader becomes a kind of
Spectator, and feels in himself all the Variety of Passions which are
correspondent to the several Parts of the Relation.
But among this Sett of Writers there are none who more gratifie and
enlarge the Imagination, than the Authors of the new Philosophy, whether
we consider their Theories of the Earth or Heavens, the Discoveries they
have made by Glasses, or any other of their Contemplations on Nature. We
are not a little pleased to find every green Leaf swarm with Millions of
Animals, that at their largest Growth are not visible to the naked Eye.
There is something very engaging to the Fancy, as well as to our Reason,
in the Treatises of Metals, Minerals, Plants, and Meteors. But when we
survey the whole Earth at once, and the several Planets that lie within
its Neighbourhood, we are filled with a pleasing Astonishment, to see so
many Worlds hanging one above another, and sliding round their Axles in
such an amazing Pomp and Solemnity. If, after this, we contemplate those
wild Fields of
Æther
, that reach in Height as far as from
Saturn
to
the fixt Stars, and run abroad almost to an Infinitude, our Imagination
finds its Capacity filled with so immense a Prospect, and puts it self
upon the Stretch to comprehend it. But if we yet rise higher, and
consider the fixt Stars as so many vast Oceans of Flame, that are each
of them attended with a different Sett of Planets, and still discover
new Firmaments and new Lights that are sunk farther in those
unfathomable Depths of
Æther
, so as not to be seen by the strongest of
our Telescopes, we are lost in such a Labyrinth of Suns and Worlds, and
confounded with the Immensity and Magnificence of Nature.
Nothing is
pleasant to the Fancy, than to enlarge it self by
Degrees, in its Contemplation of the various Proportions
which
its
several Objects bear to each other, when it compares the Body of Man to
the Bulk of the whole Earth, the Earth to the Circle it describes round
the Sun, that Circle to the Sphere of the fixt Stars, the sphere of the
fixt Stars to the Circuit of the whole Creation, the whole Creation it
self to the infinite Space that is every where diffused about it; or
when the Imagination works downward, and considers the Bulk of a human
Body in respect of an Animal, a
times less than a Mite, the
particular Limbs of such an Animal, the different Springs
which
actuate the Limbs, the Spirits which set these Springs a going, and the
proportionable Minuteness of these several Parts, before they have
arrived at their full Growth and Perfection. But if, after all this, we
take the least Particle of these Animal Spirits, and consider its
Capacity of being Wrought into a World, that shall contain within those
narrow Dimensions a Heaven and Earth, Stars and Planets, and every
different Species of living Creatures, in the same Analogy and
Proportion they bear to each other in our own Universe; such a
Speculation, by reason of its Nicety, appears ridiculous to those who
have not turned their Thoughts that way, though at the same time it is
founded on no less than the Evidence of a Demonstration. Nay, we might
yet carry it farther, and discover in the smallest Particle of this
little World a new and inexhausted Fund of Matter, capable of being spun
out into another Universe.
I have dwelt the longer on this Subject, because I think it may shew us
the proper Limits, as well as the Defectiveness of our Imagination; how
it is confined to a very small Quantity of Space, and immediately stopt
in its Operations, when it endeavours to take in any thing that is very
great, or very little. Let a Man try to conceive the different Bulk of
an Animal, which is twenty, from another which is a hundred times less
than a Mite, or to compare, in his Thoughts, a length of a thousand
Diameters of the Earth, with that of a Million, and he will quickly find
that he has no different Measures in his Mind, adjusted to such
extraordinary Degrees of Grandeur or Minuteness. The Understanding,
indeed, opens an infinite Space on every side of us, but the
Imagination, after a few faint Efforts, is immediately at a stand, and
finds her self swallowed up in the Immensity of the Void that surrounds
it: Our Reason can pursue a Particle of Matter through an infinite
Variety of Divisions, but the Fancy soon loses sight of it, and feels in
it self a kind of Chasm, that wants to be filled with Matter of a more
sensible Bulk. We can neither widen, nor contract the Faculty to the
Dimensions of either Extreme. The Object is too big for our Capacity,
when we would comprehend the Circumference of a World, and dwindles into
nothing, when we endeavour after the Idea of an Atome.
It is possible this defect of Imagination may not be in the Soul it
self, but as it acts in Conjunction with the Body. Perhaps there may not
be room in the Brain for such a variety of Impressions, or the Animal
Spirits may be incapable of figuring them in such a manner, as is
necessary to excite so very large or very minute Ideas. However it be,
we may well suppose that Beings of a higher Nature very much excel us in
this respect, as it is probable the Soul of Man will be infinitely more
perfect hereafter in this Faculty, as well as in all the rest; insomuch
that, perhaps, the Imagination will be able to keep Pace with the
Understanding, and to form in it self distinct Ideas of all the
different Modes and Quantities of Space.
O.
that
that
Contents
|
Thursday, July 3, 1712 |
Addison |
Ignotis errare locis, ignota videre
Flumina gaudebat; studio minuente laborem.translation
Ovid.
The Pleasures of the Imagination are not wholly confined to such
particular Authors as are conversant in material Objects, but are often
to be met with among the Polite Masters of Morality, Criticism, and
other Speculations abstracted from Matter, who, tho' they do not
directly treat of the visible Parts of Nature, often draw from them
their Similitudes, Metaphors, and Allegories. By these Allusions a Truth
in the Understanding is as it were reflected by the Imagination; we are
able to see something like Colour and Shape in a Notion, and to discover
a Scheme of Thoughts traced out upon Matter. And here the Mind receives
a great deal of Satisfaction, and has two of its Faculties gratified at
the same time, while the Fancy is busie in copying after the
Understanding, and transcribing Ideas out of the Intellectual World into
the Material.
The Great Art of a Writer shews it self in the Choice of pleasing
Allusions, which are generally to be taken from the
great
or
beautiful
Works of Art or Nature; for though whatever is New or
Uncommon is apt to delight the Imagination, the chief Design of an
Allusion being to illustrate and explain the Passages of an Author, it
should be always borrowed from what is more known and common, than the
Passages which are to be explained.
Allegories, when well chosen, are like so many Tracks of Light in a
Discourse, that make every thing about them clear and beautiful. A noble
Metaphor, when it is placed to an Advantage, casts a kind of Glory round
it, and darts a Lustre through a whole Sentence: These different Kinds
of Allusion are but so many different Manners of Similitude, and, that
they may please the Imagination, the Likeness ought to be very exact, or
very agreeable, as we love to see a Picture where the Resemblance is
just, or the Posture and Air graceful. But we often find eminent Writers
very faulty in this respect; great Scholars are apt to fetch their
Comparisons and Allusions from the Sciences in which they are most
conversant, so that a Man may see the Compass of their Learning in a
Treatise on the most indifferent Subject. I have read a Discourse upon
Love, which none but a profound Chymist could understand, and have heard
many a Sermon that should only have been preached before a Congregation
of
Cartesians
. On the contrary, your Men of Business usually have
recourse to such Instances as are too mean and familiar. They are for
drawing the Reader into a Game of Chess or Tennis, or for leading him
from Shop to Shop, in the Cant of particular Trades and Employments. It
is certain, there may be found an infinite Variety of very agreeable
Allusions in both these kinds, but for the generality, the most
entertaining ones lie in the Works of Nature, which are obvious to all
Capacities, and more delightful than what is to be found in Arts and
Sciences.
It is this Talent of affecting the Imagination, that gives an
Embellishment to good Sense, and makes one Man's Compositions more
agreeable than another's. It sets off all Writings in general, but is
the very Life and highest Perfection of Poetry: Where it shines in an
Eminent Degree, it has preserved several Poems for many Ages, that have
nothing else to recommend them; and where all the other Beauties are
present, the Work appears dry and insipid, if this single one be
wanting. It has something in it like Creation; It bestows a kind of
Existence, and draws up to the Reader's View several Objects which are
not to be found in Being. It makes Additions to Nature, and gives a
greater Variety to God's Works. In a Word, it is able to beautifie and
adorn the most illustrious Scenes in the Universe, or to fill the Mind
with more glorious Shows and Apparitions, than can be found in any Part
of it.
We have now discovered the several Originals of those Pleasures that
gratify the Fancy; and here, perhaps, it would not be very difficult to
cast under their proper Heads those contrary Objects, which are apt to
fill it with Distaste and Terrour; for the Imagination is as liable to
Pain as Pleasure. When the Brain is hurt by any Accident, or the Mind
disordered by Dreams or Sickness, the Fancy is over-run with wild dismal
Ideas, and terrified with a thousand hideous Monsters of its own framing.
Eumenidum veluti demens videt Agmina Pentheus,
Et solem geminum, et duplices se ostendere Thebas.
Aut Agamemnonius scenis agitatus Orestes,
Armatam facibus matrem et serpentibus atris
Cum videt, ultricesque sedent in limine Diræ.
Vir.
There is not a Sight in Nature so mortifying as that of a Distracted
Person, when his Imagination is troubled, and his whole Soul disordered
and confused.
Babylon
in Ruins is not so melancholy a Spectacle. But
to quit so disagreeable a Subject, I shall only consider, by way of
Conclusion, what an infinite Advantage this Faculty gives an Almighty
Being over the Soul of Man, and how great a measure of Happiness or
Misery we are capable of receiving from the Imagination only.
We have already seen the Influence that one Man has over the Fancy of
another, and with what Ease he conveys into it a Variety of Imagery; how
great a Power then may we suppose lodged in him, who knows all the ways
of affecting the Imagination, who can infuse what Ideas he pleases, and
fill those Ideas with Terrour and Delight to what Degree he thinks fit?
He can excite Images in the Mind, without the help of Words, and make
Scenes rise up before us and seem present to the Eye without the
Assistance of Bodies or Exterior Objects. He can transport the
Imagination with such beautiful and glorious Visions, as cannot possibly
enter into our present Conceptions, or haunt it with such ghastly
Spectres and Apparitions, as would make us hope for Annihilation, and
think Existence no better than a Curse. In short, he can so exquisitely
ravish or torture the Soul through this single Faculty, as might suffice
to make up the whole Heaven or Hell of any finite Being.
This Essay on the Pleasures of the Imagination having been published in
separate Papers, I shall conclude it with a Table of the principal
Contents in each Paper.
[Vol. 2 link]
Paper I |
The Perfection of our Sight above our other Senses. The Pleasures of
the Imagination arise originally from Sight. The Pleasures of the
Imagination divided under two Heads. The Pleasures of the Imagination
in some Respects equal to those of the Understanding. The Extent of
the Pleasures of the Imagination. The Advantages a Man receives from a
Relish of these Pleasures. In what Respect they are preferable to
those of the Understanding. |
[Vol. 2 link]
Paper II |
Three Sources of all the Pleasures of the Imagination, in our Survey
of outward Objects. How what is Great pleases the Imagination. How
what is New pleases the Imagination. How what is Beautiful in our
own Species, pleases the Imagination. How what is Beautiful in
general pleases the Imagination. What other Accidental Causes may
contribute to the heightening of these Pleasures.
|
[Vol. 2 link]
Paper III |
Why the Necessary Cause of our being pleased with what is Great,
New, or Beautiful, unknown. Why the Final Cause more known and more
useful. The Final Cause of our being pleased with what is Great. The
Final Cause of our being pleased with what is New. The Final Cause
of our being pleased with what is Beautiful in our own Species. The
Final Cause of our being pleased with what is Beautiful in general.
|
[Vol. 2 link]
Paper IV |
The Works of Nature more pleasant to the Imagination than those of
Art. The Works of Nature still more pleasant, the more they resemble
those of Art. The Works of Art more pleasant, the more they resemble
those of Nature. Our English Plantations and Gardens considered
in the foregoing Light.
|
[Vol. 2 link]
Paper V |
Of Architecture as it affects the Imagination. Greatness in
Architecture relates either to the Bulk or to the Manner.
Greatness of Bulk in the Ancient Oriental Buildings. The ancient
Accounts of these Buildings confirm'd,
- From the Advantages, for
raising such Works, in the first Ages of the World and in the Eastern
Climates:
-
From several of them which are still extant.
Instances how Greatness of Manner affects the Imagination. A French
Author's Observation on this Subject. Why Concave and Convex Figures
give a Greatness of Manner to Works of Architecture. Every thing that
pleases the Imagination in Architecture is either Great, Beautiful, or
New. |
[Vol. 2 link]
Paper VI |
The Secondary Pleasures of the Imagination. The several Sources of
these Pleasures (Statuary, Painting, Description and Musick)
compared together. The Final Cause of our receiving Pleasure from
these several Sources. Of Descriptions in particular. The Power of
Words over the Imagination. Why one Reader more pleased with
Descriptions than another.
|
| Paper VII |
How a whole Set of Ideas Hang together, &c. A Natural Cause
assigned for it. How to perfect the Imagination of a Writer. Who
among the Ancient Poets had this Faculty in its greatest
Perfection. Homer excelled in Imagining what is Great; Virgil in
Imagining what is Beautiful; Ovid in imagining what is New. Our own
Country-man Milton very perfect in all three respects.
|
| Paper VIII |
Why any thing that is unpleasant to behold, pleases the Imagination
when well described. Why the Imagination receives a more Exquisite
Pleasure from the Description of what is Great, New, or Beautiful.
The Pleasure still heightned, if—what is described raises Passion
in the Mind. Disagreeable Passions pleasing when raised by apt
Descriptions. Why Terror and Grief are pleasing to the Mind when
excited by Descriptions. A particular Advantage the Writers in Poetry
and Fiction have to please the Imagination. What Liberties are allowed
them.
|
| Paper IX |
Of that kind of Poetry which Mr. Dryden calls the Fairy Way of
Writing. How a Poet should be Qualified for it. The Pleasures of
the Imagination that arise from it. In this respect why the Moderns
excell the Ancients. Why the English excell the Moderns. Who the
Best among the English. Of Emblematical Persons.
|
| Paper X |
What Authors please the Imagination who have nothing to do with
Fiction. How History pleases the Imagination. How the Authors of
the new Philosophy please the Imagination. The Bounds and Defects
of the Imagination. Whether these Defects are Essential to the
Imagination.
|
| Paper XI |
How those please the Imagination who treat of Subjects abstracted
from Matter, by Allusions taken from it. What Allusions most
pleasing to the Imagination. Great Writers how Faulty in this
Respect. Of the Art of Imagining in General. The Imagination capable
of Pain as well as Pleasure. In what Degree the Imagination is
capable either of Pain or Pleasure.
|
O.
Contents
|
Friday, July 4, 1712 |
Steele |
Hæc scripsi non otii abundantia sed amoris erga te.translation
Tull.
Epis.
I do not know any thing which gives greater Disturbance to Conversation,
than the false Notion some People have of Raillery. It ought certainly
to be the first Point to be aimed at in Society, to gain the good Will
of those with whom you converse. The Way to that, is to shew you are
well inclined towards them: What then can be more absurd, than to set up
for being extremely sharp and biting, as the Term is, in your
Expressions to your Familiars? A Man who has no good Quality but
Courage, is in a very ill way towards making an agreeable Figure in the
World, because that which he has superior to other People cannot be
exerted, without raising himself an
Enemy
. Your Gentleman of a
Satyrical Vein is in the like Condition. To say a Thing which perplexes
the Heart of him you speak to, or brings Blushes into his Face, is a
degree of Murder; and it is, I think, an unpardonable Offence to shew a
Man you do not care, whether he is pleased or displeased. But won't you
then take a Jest? Yes: but pray let it be a Jest. It is no Jest to put
me, who am so unhappy as to have an utter Aversion to speaking to more
than one Man at a time, under a Necessity to explain my self in much
Company, and reducing me to Shame and Derision, except I perform what my
Infirmity of Silence disables me to do.
Callisthenes
has great Wit accompanied with that Quality (without
which a Man can have no Wit at all) a Sound Judgment. This Gentleman
rallies the best of any Man I know, for he forms his Ridicule upon a
Circumstance which you are in your Heart not unwilling to grant him, to
wit, that you are Guilty of an Excess in something which is in it self
laudable. He very well understands what you would be, and needs not fear
your Anger for declaring you are a little too much that Thing. The
Generous will bear being reproached as Lavish, and the Valiant, Rash,
without being provoked to Resentment against their Monitor. What has
been said to be a Mark of a good Writer, will fall in with the Character
of a good Companion. The good Writer makes his Reader better pleased
with himself, and the agreeable Man makes his Friends enjoy themselves,
rather than him, while he is in their Company.
Callisthenes
does this
with inimitable Pleasantry. He whispered a Friend the other Day, so as
to be overheard by a young Officer, who gave Symptoms of Cocking upon
the Company, That Gentleman has very much of the Air of a General
Officer. The Youth immediately put on a Composed Behaviour, and behaved
himself suitably to the Conceptions he believed the Company had of him.
It is to be allowed that
Callisthenes
will make a Man run into
impertinent Relations, to his own Advantage, and express the
Satisfaction he has in his own dear self till he is very ridiculous, but
in this case the Man is made a Fool by his own Consent, and not exposed
as such whether he will or no. I take it therefore that to make Raillery
agreeable, a Man must either not know he is rallied, or think never the
worse of himself if he sees he is.
Acetus
is of a quite contrary Genius, and is more generally admired
than
Callisthenes
, but not with Justice.
Acetus
has no regard to the
Modesty or Weakness of the Person he rallies; but if his Quality or
Humility gives him any Superiority to the Man he would fall upon, he has
no Mercy in making the Onset. He can be pleased to see his best Friend
out of Countenance, while the Laugh is loud in his own Applause. His
Raillery always puts the Company into little Divisions and separate
Interests, while that of
Callisthenes
cements it, and makes every Man
not only better pleased with himself, but also with all the rest in the
Conversation.
To rally well, it is absolutely necessary that Kindness must run thro'
all you say, and you must ever preserve the Character of a Friend to
support your Pretensions to be free with a Man.
Acetus
ought to be
banished human Society, because he raises his Mirth upon giving Pain to
the Person upon whom he is pleasant. Nothing but the Malevolence, which
is too general towards those who excell, could make his Company
tolerated; but they with whom he converses, are sure to see some Man
sacrificed where-ever he is admitted, and all the Credit he has for Wit
is owing to the Gratification it gives to other Men's Ill-nature.
Minutius
has a Wit that conciliates a Man's Love at the same time that
it is exerted against his Faults. He has an Art of keeping the Person he
rallies in Countenance, by insinuating that he himself is guilty of the
same Imperfection. This he does with so much Address, that he seems
rather to bewail himself, than fall upon his Friend.
It is really monstrous to see how unaccountably it prevails among Men,
to take the Liberty of displeasing each other. One would think sometimes
that the Contention is, who shall be most disagreeable, Allusions to
past Follies, Hints which revive what a Man has a Mind to forget for
ever, and deserves that all the rest of the World should, are commonly
brought forth even in Company of Men of Distinction. They do not thrust
with the Skill of Fencers, but cut up with the Barbarity of Butchers. It
is, methinks, below the Character of Men of Humanity and Good-manners,
to be capable of Mirth while there is any one of the Company in Pain and
Disorder. They who have the true Taste of Conversation, enjoy themselves
in a Communication of each other's Excellencies, and not in a Triumph
over their Imperfections.
Fortius
would have been reckoned a Wit, if
there had never been a Fool in the World: He wants not Foils to be a
Beauty, but has that natural Pleasure in observing Perfection in others,
that his own Faults are overlooked out of Gratitude by all his
Acquaintance.
After these several Characters of Men who succeed or fail in Raillery,
it may not be amiss to reflect a little further what one takes to be the
most agreeable Kind of it; and that to me appears when the Satyr is
directed against Vice, with an Air of Contempt of the Fault, but no
Ill-will to the Criminal. Mr.
Congreve's Doris
is a Master-piece in
this Kind. It is the Character of a Woman utterly abandoned, but her
Impudence by the finest Piece of Raillery is made only Generosity.
Peculiar therefore is her Way,
Whether by Nature taught,
I shall not undertake to say,
Or by experience bought;
For who o'er Night obtain'd her Grace,
She can next Day disown,
And stare upon the strange Man's Face,
As one she ne'er had known,
So well she can the Truth disguise,
Such artful Wonder frame,
The Lover or distrusts his Eyes,
Or thinks 'twas all a Dream.
Some censure this as lewd or low,
Who are to Bounty blind;
For to forget what we bestow,
Bespeaks a noble Mind.
T.
Contents
|
Satday, July 5, 1712 |
Steele |
I look upon my self as a Kind of Guardian to the Fair, and am always
watchful to observe any thing which concerns their Interest. The present
Paper shall be employed in the Service of a very fine young Woman; and
the Admonitions I give her, may not be unuseful to the rest of the Sex.
Gloriana
shall be the Name of the Heroine in To-day's Entertainment;
and when I have told you that she is rich, witty, young and beautiful,
you will believe she does not want Admirers. She has had since she came
to Town about twenty five of those Lovers, who make their Addresses by
way of Jointure and Settlement. These come and go, with great
Indifference on both Sides; and as beauteous as she is, a Line in a Deed
has had Exception enough against it, to outweigh the Lustre of her Eyes,
the Readiness of her Understanding, and the Merit of her general
Character. But among the Crowd of such cool Adorers, she has two who are
very assiduous in their Attendance. There is something so extraordinary
and artful in their Manner of Application, that I think it but common
Justice to alarm her in it. I have done it in the following Letter.
Madam,
'I have for some time taken Notice of two Gentlemen who attend you in
all publick Places, both of whom have also easie Access to you at your
own House: But the Matter is adjusted between them, and
Damon
, who
so passionately addresses you, has no Design upon you; but
Strephon
,
who seems to be indifferent to you, is the Man, who is, as they have
settled it, to have you. The Plot was laid over a Bottle of Wine; and
Strephon
, when he first thought of you, proposed to
Damon
to be
his Rival. The manner of his breaking of it to him, I was so placed at
a Tavern, that I could not avoid hearing.
Damon
, said he with a deep
Sigh, I have long languished for that Miracle of Beauty
Gloriana
,
and if you will be very stedfastly my Rival, I shall certainly obtain
her. Do not, continued he, be offended at this Overture; for I go upon
the Knowledge of the Temper of the Woman, rather than any Vanity that
I should profit by an Opposition of your Pretensions to those of your
humble Servant.
Gloriana
has very good Sense, a quick Relish of the
Satisfactions of Life, and will not give her self, as the Crowd of
Women do, to the Arms of a Man to whom she is indifferent. As she is a
sensible Woman, Expressions of Rapture and Adoration will not move her
neither; but he that has her must be the Object of her De
Sir
e, not her
Pity. The Way to this End I take to be, that a Man's general Conduct
should be agreeable, without addressing in particular to the Woman he
loves. Now,
Sir
, if you will be so kind as to sigh and die for
Gloriana
, I will carry it with great Respect towards her, but seem
void of any Thoughts as a Lover. By this Means I shall be in the most
amiable Light of which I am capable; I shall be received with Freedom,
you with Reserve.
Damon
, who has himself no Designs of Marriage at
all, easily fell into the Scheme; and you may observe, that where-ever
you are
Damon
appears also. You see he carries on an unaffecting
Exactness in his Dress and Manner, and strives always to be the very
Contrary of
Strephon
. They have already succeeded so far, that your
Eyes are ever in Search of
Strephon
, and turn themselves of Course
from
Damon
. They meet and compare Notes upon your Carriage; and the
Letter which, was brought to you the other Day, was a Contrivance to
remark your Resentment. When you saw the Billet subscribed
Damon
,
and turned away with a scornful Air, and cried Impertinence! you gave
Hopes to him that shuns you, without mortifying him that languishes
for you. What I am concerned for, Madam, is, that in the disposal of
your Heart, you should know what you are doing, and examine it before
it is lost.
Strephon
contradicts you in Discourse with the Civility
of one who has a Value for you, but gives up nothing like one that
loves you. This seeming Unconcern gives this Behaviour the advantage
of Sincerity, and insensibly obtains your good Opinion, by appearing
disinterested in the purchase of it. If you watch these Correspondents
hereafter, you will find that
Strephon
makes his Visit of Civility
immediately after
Damon
has tired you with one of Love. Tho' you are
very discreet, you will find it no easie matter to escape the Toils so
well laid, as when one studies to be disagreeable in Passion, the
other to be pleasing without it. All the Turns of your Temper are
carefully watched, and their quick and faithful Intelligence gives
your Lovers irresistible Advantage. You will please, Madam, to be upon
your guard, and take all the necessary Precautions against one who is
amiable to you before you know he is enamoured.
I am, Madam,
Your most Obedient Servant.