ftrous wild beaft, or a body agonized with pain, be a most unpleafing fpectacle, a picture, or poetical defcription of it, may be contemplated with delight*; the pleasure we take in the artist's ingenuity, joined to our confcioufnefs that the object before us is not real, being more than fufficient to counterbalance every difagreeable feeling occafioned by the deformity of the figure t. Even human vices, infirmities, and misfortunes, when well reprefented on the stage, * Ariftot. Poet. fect. 4.; fect. 4. Gerard on Tafte, part 1. + Pictures, however, of great merit as imitations, and valuable for the morality of the defign, may yet be too horrid to be contemplated with pleafure. A robber, who had broke into a repofitory of the dead, in or der to plunder a corpfe of fome rich ornaments, is faid to have been fo affected with the hideous fpectacle of mortality which prefented itfelf when he opened the coffin, that he flunk away, trembling and weeping, without being able to execute his purpofe. I have met with an excellent print upon this fubject; but was never able to look at it for half a minute together. Too many ob jects of the fame character may be feen in Hogarth's Progrefs of Cruelty. There is another clafs of fhocking ideas, which poets have not always been fufficiently careful to avoid. Juvenal and Swift, and even Pope himself, have given us defcriptions which it turns one's ftomach to think of. And I must confefs, that, notwithstanding the authority of Atterbury and Addifon, and the general merit of the paffage, I could never reconcile myfelf to fome filthy ideas, which, to the unfpeakable fatisfaction of Mr Voltaire, Milton has unwarily introduced in the famous allegory of Sin and Death. form form a most interesting amusement. So great is the charm of imitation. That has been thought a very mysterious, pleasure, which we take in witneffing tragical imitations of human action, even while they move us to pity and forrow. Several caufes feem to co-operate in producing it. 1. It gives an agreeable agitation to the mind, to be deeply interested in any event, that is not attended with real harm to ourselves or others. Nay, certain events of the most fubftantial diftrefs would feem to give a gloomy entertainment to fome minds: elfe why should men run fo eagerly to see shipwrecks, executions, riots, and even battles, and fields of flaughter? But the distress upon the stage neither is, nor is believed to be, real; and therefore the agreeable exercise it may give to the mind is not allayed by any bitter reflections, but is rather heightened by this confideration, that the whole is imaginary. To those who mistake it for real, as children are faid to do fometimes, it gives no pleasure, but intenfe pain. 2. Throughout the performance, we admire the genius of the poet, as it appears in the language and fentiments, in the right conduct of the fable, in diverfifying and fupporting the characters, and in devifing incidents affecting in themselves, and conducive to the main defign. 3. The ingenuity of the actors must be allowed to be a principal caufe of the pleafure with which we witnefs either tragedy or or comedy. A bad play well acted may please, and in fact often does; but a good play ill acted is intolerable. 4. We fympathife with the emotions of the audience, and this heightens our own. For I apprehend, that no perfon of fenfibility would chufe to be the fole fpectator of a play, if he had it in his power to see it in company with a multitude. When we have read by ourselves a pleasing narrative, till it has loft every charm that novelty can bestow, we may renew its relish by reading it in company, and perhaps be even more entertained than at the first perufal. 5. The ornaments of the theatre, the mufic, the fcenery, the fplendor of the company, nay the very drefs of the players, must be allowed to contribute fomething to our amufement: elfe why do managers expend fo much money in decoration? And, laftly, let it be obferved, that there is fomething very peculiar in the nature of pity. The pain, however exquifite, that accompanies this amiable affection, is fuch, that a man of a generous mind would not difqualify himself for it, even if he could: nor is the luxury of woe," that we read of in poetry, a mere figure of fpeech, but a real fenfation, wherewith every perfon of humanity is acquainted, by frequent experience. Pity produces a tenderness of heart very friendly to virtuous impreffions. It inclines us to be circumfpect and lowly, and fenfible of the uncertainty of human things, and of our our dependence upon the great Author of our being; while continued joy and profperity harden the heart, and render men proud, irreligious, and inattentive: fo that Solomon had good reason for affirming, that by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better." The exercife of pity, even towards imaginary fufferings, cannot fail to give pleasure, if attended, as it generally is, with the approbation of reafon and conscience, declaring it to be a virtuous affection, productive of fignal benefit to fociety, and peculiarly fuitable to our condition, honourable to our nature, and amiable in the eyes of our fellow-creatures * Since Imitation is fo plentiful a fource of pleasure, we need not wonder, that the imitative arts of poetry and painting should have been greatly esteemed in every enlightened age. The imitation itself, which is the work of the artist, is agreeable; the thing imitated, which is nature, is also agreeable; and is not the fame thing true of the inftrument of imitation? Or does any one doubt, whether harmonious language be pleafing to the ear, or certain arrangements of colour beautiful to the cye? Shall I apply thefe, and the preceding reafonings, to the Musical Art alfo, which I Since thefe remarks were written, Dr Campbell has published a very accurate and ingenious differtation on this fubject. See his Philofophy of Rhetoric, vol. 1. - have elsewhere called, and which is generally understood to be, Imitative? Shall I fay, that fome melodies pleafe, because they imitate nature, and that others, which do not imitate nature, are therefore unpleasing? that an air expreffive of devotion, for example, is agreeable, because it prefents us with an imitation of those founds by which devotion does naturally exprefs itself? Such an affirmation would hardly pass upon the reader; notwithstanding the plaufibility it might feem to derive from that strict analogy which all the fine arts are supposed to bear to one another. He would ask, What is the natural found of devotion? Where is it to be heard? When was it heard? What refemblance is there between Handel's Te Deum, and the tone of voice natural to a perfon expreffing, by articulate found, his veneration of the Divine Character and Providence? -In fact, I apprehend, that critics have erred a little in their determinations upon this fubject, from an opinion, that Music, Painting, and Poetry, are all imitative arts. I hope at least I may fay, without offence, that while this was my opinion, I was always confcious of fome unaccountable confufion of thought, whenever I attempted to explain it in the way of detail to others. But while I thus infinuate, that Mufic is not an imitative art, I mean no difrespect to Aristotle, who seems in the beginning of his Poetics 2 |