Joseph Addison The Spectator. Nos.

411-421
[Addison's Table of Contents from No. 421] This essay on the Pleas res of the !ma"ination ha#in" been p blished in separate papers$ ! shall %on%l de it &ith a Table of the prin%ipal Contents in ea%h paper. T'( C)NT(NT*. PAP(+ !. The perfe%tion of o r si"ht abo#e o r other senses. The pleasures of the imagination arise ori"inally from si"ht. The pleas res of the ima"ination di#ided nder two heads. The pleas res of the imagination in some respe%ts e, al to those of the nderstandin". The extent of the pleas res 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 pleas res of the ima"ination$ in o r s r#ey of o t&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 o r o&n spe%ies pleases the ima"ination. 'o& &hat is beautiful in "eneral pleases the ima"ination. .hat other a%%idental %a ses may %ontrib te to the heightening of these pleas res. PAP(+ !!!. .hy the necessary cause of o r bein" pleased &ith &hat is "reat$ ne&$ or bea tif l$ n/no&n. .hy the final cause more /no&n and more sef l. The final %a se of o r bein" pleased &ith &hat is great. The final %a se of o r bein" pleased &ith &hat is new. The final %a se of o r bein" pleased &ith &hat is beautiful in our own species. The final %a se of o r 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 Nat re still more pleasant$ the more they resemble those of art. The &or/s of art more pleasant$ the more they resemble those of Nat re. ) 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%t re relates either to the bulk or to the manner. 1reatness of b l/ in the ancient Oriental buildings . The an%ient a%%o nts of these b ildin"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 a thor's obser#ation on this s b-e%t. .hy %on%a#e and %on#e5 fi" res "i#e a "reatness of manner to &or/s of ar%hite%t re. (#erythin" that pleases the ima"ination in ar%hite%t re either "reat$ bea tif l$ or ne&. PAP(+ 0!. The secondary pleas res of the ima"ination. The se#eral so r%es of these pleas res 6statuary painting description and music7 %ompared to"ether. The final cause of o r re%ei#in" pleas re from these se#eral so r%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 nat ral %a se 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 bea tif l4 O#id in ima"inin" &hat is ne&. ) r o&n %o ntryman$ $ilton$ #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 pleas re from the des%ription of &hat is great new or beautiful. The pleas re 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 sho ld 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 a thors 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 s b-e%ts abstracted from matter$ by all sions 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 pleas re. 'n what degree the ima"ination is %apable either of pain or pleas re. A note on this text: 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 beaut 3 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.* T 0!@ 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" +ab lon# 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 +ab lonian 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 Eg pt 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 e e, 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 c natium 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 ra s, 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 "d sse # 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. Dr den 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. S lvis 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. +a es# 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. +ab lon 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.