On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, I shall close this essay, with hinting very slightly, that how nearly soever allied to Literal Sublimity are all the various kinds of the Metaphorical Sublime, it is by no means an infallible rule, for the attainment of the latter, to soar at once into the clouds; far.less, to string together words and images expressive of what is elevated or lofty. I mention this, because it is a common mistake among juvenile writers; and a mistake into which they are not unnaturally betrayed, by the language consecrated to that group of associations which I have been endeavouring to illustrate.* The employment of phrases expressive of mere elevation, and unaccompanied with any display of genius, good sense, or skill, produces one of the most absurd species of the false sublime; that which is properly expressed by the words bombast and fustian. To the faults of this inflated style, Longinus applies the metaphorical title of meteors,† a word strongly significant of the impression which they produce on minds, in which the power of taste has not been duly cultivated. In this respect, he seems to have conceived the false Sublime as bearing the same relation to the true, which Pope has so well described, in contrasting false with true Wit: "Bright as a blaze, but in a moment gone ; True Wit is everlasting like the Sun." To avoid all risk of any imputation of this sort, writers of taste find it, in most cases, expedient, in the hackneyed and worn out state of our traditional imagery, when they wish to produce an emotion of Sublimity, to touch on some of its less familiar adjuncts, or on some of the associated ideas which follow in their train; rather than to dwell on the idea of Literal Sublimity, or on any of its more common-place concomitants. An ex *"Dum vitat humum, nubes et inania captat." † Οὐχ ὑψηλὰ ἀλλὰ μετέωρα.—Sect. 3. Among these, thunder and lightning are favorite resources with all writers whose taste inclines them to the bombast: "Up from Rhyme's poppied vale, and ride the storm That thunders in blank verse." ample of this occurs in Bailly's description of an Astronomical Observer, preparing himself to enter on his nightly task, when other mortals are retiring to rest. The elevation of the spectacle above him, which forms the most prominent feature in a passage quoted from Ovid's Fasti, and which undoubtedly contributes more than any thing else to impart a Sublime Character to the Astronomer's situation and employment, is studiously kept out of view, while our attention is drawn to secondary and less obvious circumstances, which derive the principal part of their effect from the sublimity of that accompaniment which it is left to fancy to supply; -"to the prospect of a midnight solitude;-to the silent lapse of time, interrupted only by the beats of the Astronomical Clock;-to the motionless posture of the Observer, (his eye attached to the Telescope, his ear intent upon the vibrations of the Pendulum, his whole soul riveted to the fleeting instant which is never to return;)-to the mathematical regularity of the celestial movements, inviting the Imagination to follow them through their Stupendous Cycles;—and to the triumph of Human Reason in rendering even the Heavens subservient, to complete the dominion of Man over the Earth and the Ocean."-I have attempted to bring together, from a very imperfect recollection, a few of the principal traits of this noble picture. For the rest I must refer to the very eloquent work from which they are borrowed ;-recommending to my readers, if they should have the curiosity to consult the original, to observe (as a farther confirmation of the foregoing speculations) the elevation of style which the author maintains through the whole of his narrative; an elevation naturally inspired by the Sublimity of his subject; and which Such is the exordium of a poem, by an author not destitute of genius (Aaron Hill,) who lived in habits of intimacy with Pope, Thomson, and Bolingbroke. On the other hand, in proportion to the difficulty of the task, is the effect produced, when the most obvious adjuncts of sublimity are skilfully and happily presented in new and unexpected combinations. Collins furnishes an instance of this in a line quoted above; and Campbell a noble one, in a couplet, descriptive merely of the altitude of a mountain. "Where Andes, giant of the western star, Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world." would have appeared wholly out of place, in tracing the origin and progress of any other branch of physical science, involved to the same degree in the technical mysteries of numbers and of diagrams.* • Note (M m.) ESSAY THIRD. ON TASTE. CHAPTER FIRST. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON OUR ACQUIRED POWERS OF JUDGMENT. APPLICATION OF THESE TO THE SUBJECT OF THIS ESSAY. In treating, on a former occasion, of the faculty of Attention, I endeavoured to illustrate those intellectual processes, which, by often passing through the mind, come at length to be carried on with a rapidity that eludes all our efforts to remark it; giving to many of our judgments, which are really the result of thought and reflection, the appearance of instantaneous and intuitive perceptions. The most remarkable instance of such processes which the history of the human understanding affords, occurs in what are commonly called the acquired perceptions of sight; the theory of which has engaged the curiosity of many philosophers since the time of Berkeley, and seems to be now pretty generally understood. The other cases which I allude to, appear to me to be extremely analogous to these acquired perceptions, and to be explicable on the same general principles. The most material difference consists in this, that the acquired perceptions of sight are common to the whole human race; the common necessities of our nature forcing every man to cultivate, from early infancy, the habits by which they are formed; whereas the greater part of our other acquired judgments, being the result of habits connected with particular pro fessions, or pursuits, are peculiar to certain classes of individuals. Next to the acquired perceptions of sight, may be ranked, in point of rapidity, those processes of thought which pass through the mind, in the familiar operations of reading and of writing. In the former operation, the meaning of what we read seems to be seized at once which the instantaneousness of a perception. In the latter, as the train of our ideas proceeds, we find these ideas recorded upon paper, by an almost spontaneous movement of the hand;-a movement which has no more tendency to distract our attention, than the function of respiration, or the action of the heart. It is the familiarity alone of such phenomena, that prevents the generality of men from reflecting on them with the wonder which they excite in the mind of the philosopher; and which will be found always to rise higher, in proportion to the accuracy of the analysis to which he subjects them. But it is not as a subject of wonder only, that these phenomena ought to be regarded. The practical lesson which they suggest is of the highest importance; and is calculated to inspire us with new confidence and vigor, in the cultivation of whatever intellectual habits our situation in life may render it useful for us to possess. Such was the inference which was long ago drawn from them by Polybius, with a spirit of philosophical generalization, which is not often to be met with in ancient historians. "It would be easy," says this most judicious writer, "to show by instances, that many things which appear, in the beginning, to be not only difficult but absolutely impracticable, are, in the course of time, and by continued use, accomplished with the greatest ease. Among numberless instances, the art of reading may be mentioned as one of the clearest and most convincing proofs of this remark. Take a man who has never learned to read, but is otherwise a man of sense; set a child before him who has learned, and order him to read a passage in a book. It is certain that this man will scarcely be able to persuade himself, that the child, |