suitable equipose in this respect probably constituted one of the many superiorities of Shakespeare. The influence of Pain in quickening memory is indirect or circuitous. Pain, in the first instance, drives us away from whatever occasions it; but, at the same time, leaves a strong impression behind. Much of the interest of the severer forms of truth, which we naturally shun, is connected with their instrumentality in alleviating pain: in other words, they indicate relief from inevitable evils, and have thus something of the efficacy of pleasure. Pain, in its own proper character, is a cause of excitement, like surprises; and has, therefore, so far the influence of excitement in impressing things on the mind. The extreme case of the influence of pain is a tedious harrangue that we are not allowed to escape from. The memory is impressed not merely in spite of our revulsion but as a consequence of it. The more usual form of emotional impressiveness is imaginative charm: it is this that we have chiefly to consider. The advantages and the dangers have been now stated. The further exemplification will be given with the account of the Emotional Qualities themselves. Their double effect of supplying pleasure and of stimulating intelligence will appear from the exposition. The following examples will serve to elucidate the foregoing remarks in the Quality of Impressiveness as a whole. Chatham's denunciation of our employment of the Indians in the American war may be simply referred to for its unparalleled power of intense impressiveness. The intensity of Junius resolves itself into strength of phraseology, the balanced form, brevity and powerful denunciation. We may refer back to Paley's Simile of the Pigeons (p. 142), which was shown to be purely a device to gain attention. The interest of Grecian History is enhanced by the following epigrammatic statement of its bearing on our own destiny. The passage is a marked example of the epigram of seeming irrelevance, and is intended to startle : The true ancestors of the European nations are not those from whose blood they sprung, but those from whom they derive the richest portion of their inheritance. The SHERIDAN'S ORATORICAL INVECTIVE. 263 battle of Marathon, even as an event of English History, is more important than the battle of Hastings. If the issue of that day had been different, the Britons and the Saxons might still have been wandering in the woods.' For a splendid example of startling oratory, we may quote from Sheridan's invective against Hastings. Strength of language, the apt selection of particulars, an accumulation of horrors, ending in a tremendous and unexpected stroke of irony,—are calculated to keep the attention at its utmost pitch. 'Had a stranger, at this time, gone into the province of Oude, ignorant of what had happened since the death of Sujah Dowla, that man, who, with a savage heart, had still great lines of character, and who, with all his ferocity in war, had still, with a cultivating hand, preserved to his country the riches which it derived from benignant skies and a prolific soil-if this stranger, ignorant of all that had happened in the short interval, and observing the wide and general devastation, and all the horrors of the scene-of plains unclothed and brown-of vegetables burned up and extinguished-of villages depopulated, and in ruins of temples unroofed and perishing-of reservoirs broken down and dry,- he would naturally inquire what war has thus laid waste the fertile fields of this once beautiful and opulent country--what civil dissensions have happened, thus to tear asunder and separate the happy societies that once possessed those villages-what disputed succession-what religious rage has, with unholy violence, demolished those temples, and disturbed fervent, but unobtruding piety, in the exercise of its duties ?What merciless enemy has thus spread the horrors of fire and sword-what severe visitation of Providence has dried up the fountain, and taken from the face of the earth every vestige of verdure?-Or, rather, what monsters have stalked over the country, tainting and poisoning, with pestiferous breath, what the voracious appetite could not devour? To such questions, what must be the answer? No wars have ravaged these lands, and depopulated these villages-no civil discords have been felt-no disputed succession-no religious rage-no merciless enemy-no affliction of Providence, which, while it scourged for the moment, cut off the sources of resuscitation-no voracious and poisoning monsters-no, all this has been accomplished by the friendship, generosity and kindness of the English nation.' After such an outburst, to obviate the risk of overstraining, there should be a subsidence to a less exciting strain. PICTURESQUENESS. 1. The connecting link of the Intellectual and the Emotional Qualities is the picturing or describing of scenes and objects, as they actually appear. This is called the 'picturesque,' because it is an attempt to rival, by the inferior instrumentality of language, the effects of a painted picture. The aims of picturesque Description are various, and are so far distinguishable. (1) In a narrative of transactions or events, a writer may wish to make us imagine these in their full actuality; both the agents and the surroundings being more or less fully represented. For this purpose, he must begin by picturing the principal scenes where the story is laid, so that we may realize every turn of the narrative in its exact position. This demands the highest stretch of Description, as an intellectual quality. The wish to become acquainted with the wide world beyond our own experience, including what has for ever passed away, although it may be partly conceivable by means of remaining records, leads to a frequent exercise of the Descriptive art: as in Geography, Natural History, Travels and the multifarious aspects that make up the History of humanity. (2) A scene or object may have a special charm or interest, which it is desired to impart by description to those that cannot view the original. The arts of Description are considerably modified for this purpose. Less than a full and elaborate picture may suffice; the stress being laid upon the more interesting points. This will be afterwards seen in full detail. (3) It was an early intuition of the genius of Poetry, that language could be so applied to the delineation of nature and life, as to give a mixed effect, partly by realizing actual scenes, and partly by illustrative references to objects far removed in space and in time, but capable of being brought to view in verbal allusion. This effect of the picturesque has been incidentally exemplified under Figures of Speech. Squat like a toad,' 'sank like lead,' are picturesque Similitudes. So The foaming flood seems motionless as ice. Chaucer abounds in the felicities of the picturesque simile. Thus, the Squire— And again With lokkes crulle as they were layde in presse. Embrowdid was he, as it were a mede SUBJECTS OF DESCRIPTIVE ART. 265 Also, under Figures of Contiguity, the name of the Material put for the thing made has a picturesque effect (p. 193). The shock of all the diverse influences that language brings together, yields a spark of entirely new emotional effect. 2. The subjects of Descriptive art are either Still-life or Action; there being all degrees of complicacy in each separately, and in both together. We may have, at the one extreme, a wide and varied scene perfectly quiescent, in dealing with which the powers of Description are at the very highest; and at the other, action reduced to a single thread of succession, where Description gives place to pure Narration. There is also an intermediate case. Hence, the following threefold classification : 3. I. Still-Life, as set forth by the vocabulary and images adapted to stillness. This includes Nature scenery, considered as quiescent, in all the variety and fulness of the known universe: stars above, terrestial expanse beneath; all the accustomed aspects of nature, in the different climates and physical configurations; all the fixtures of human habitations and arts-cities, buildings, ships, machinery; the detail of vegetable and animal bodies; the human personality, both individual and aggregated in collections. Complication being at its very highest in these cases, the art of picturesque description is subjected to its severest trial. There are two forms of descriptive phraseology applicable: the one is the pure vocabulary of things in quiescence; the other is derived from associations of activity, real or imagined. Each has its advantages, as will be seen in the examples. 4. II. Action involving extensive and complicated movements; there being usually also a scenic basis of operations. Nature itself has numerous phases of activity, on which depend our interests and feelings towards it. The heavenly bodies have their movements and cycles; the earth is sub ject to the great natural powers, as Heat and Gravity, and exhibits phenomena of force and change. The more regular phases of day and night, of change of season, of fitful alternations of the elements, shown in ordinary floods and tempests; and the rarer phenomena of volcanoes and earthquakes all these constitute a case for description distinct from still-life. The life of humanity, becoming collective and national, gives rise to great and complicated movements, as in war, in the migrations of peoples, and in the ceremonial and usages of societies. These being the most stirring subjects of poetry and literature, their delineation is cultivated by art and enlivened by genius. As the expansive area of the operations is a condition of their grandeur, some attempt must be made to set forth the entire array, as if seized at a single glance. The arts of still-life delineation are here applicable with modifications. 5. III. The last case is the most common of any. It is a narrative of events, in a single thread, or little more, rendered picturesque by epithets and descriptive touches. Poets, and writers generally, avoid the laborious process of maintaining in the view a wide-ranging group of contemporary actions. They may, indeed, overtake a plurality by passing rapidly from one to the other. Usually, they sketch a stirring succession, by individual strokes of brilliant illustration. A ready example is supplied by Gray in the Progress of Poesy, i. 2, 3. On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curbed the fury of his car, And dropped his thirsty lance at thy command. If another is necessary at this stage, it may be taken from Virgil's Boat-Race'. And now on rowing-bench they sit, Bend to the oar their arms close knit, Then, at the trumpet's piercing sound, Collins's Virgil. |