CHAP. I. of the SuPathetic. blime and interesting and impressive, than the republican PART III. firmness of Cassius, or the philosophical benevolence of Brutus; merely because they are more energetic: for it is with the general energy, and not with the particular passions, that we sympathize. Men fit to disturb the peace of all the world, and rule it when 'tis wildest, are the proper materials for tragedy; since, how much soever we may dread, or abhor them in reality, we are always delighted with them in fiction. 40. The vindictive ferocity of Achilles has been thought to need some apology, even by the warmest admirers of the Iliad: but the poet, who had looked into the inmost recesses of the human mind, well knew that, had his hero been less ferocious, he must have been less energetic; and, consequently, less interesting and impressive. To rouse the feelings of his audience to exalt and melt them by turns, was his object; and for that, he has shown as much taste and knowledge in the selection of his means, as genius and ability in the employment of them. Achilles weeps, with all the ecstasy of woe, over his insulted honour, and his slaughtered friend; but meets his own impending death with careless and haughty indifference; and when struggling in the overwhelming torrents of the Scamander, only reproaches the Gods with not keeping their pro A A PART III. mise of an honourable and glorious termination to his life. CHAP. I. Of the Su Pathetic. 41. In all the fictions, either of poetry or imi blime and tative art, there can be nothing truly pathetic, unless it be, at the same time, in some degree, sublime for, though, in scenes of real distress, pity may so far overcome scorn, that we may weep for sufferings, that are feebly or pusillanimously borne; yet, in fiction, scorn will always predominate, unless there be a display of vigour, as well as tenderness and sensibility of mind. Fiction is known to be fiction, even while it interests us most; and it is the dignified elevation of the sentiments of the actors or sufferers, that separates the interesting, or the pathetic, from the disgusting, or the ridiculous. 42. Scenes of extreme suffering, or hyperbolical atrocity, which, in real life, excite only the shudder of horror, are viewed only with disgust in fiction; whether it be in poetry, painting, or sculpture: for the mind is never deceived by such fictions; but always considers them as works of mere invention or imitation; and, as they are necessarily associated with repulsive and horrible ideas, never gives them that spontaneous attention, which alone can induce it to sympathize with the energies, either of active, or passive fortitude, displayed by the sufferer. Such are the martyr . CHAP. I. blime and Pathetic. doms of Spagnolet, the events in the play of PART IIÍ. Titus Andronicus, and in the latter part of the novel of the Monk. When really acted within Of the Suthe sphere of our knowledge, the pruriency of curiosity will seldom allow us to remain in ignorance even of the details of such events, how much soever we may wish them unknown, after the hideous images have begun to haunt our memories: but, when the poet or the artist presume to obtrude such images upon us gratuitously, as the means of exciting an extreme degree of sympathy, they have no longer any incentives to entice curiosity; and are consequently rejected with scorn, aversion, or disgust. 43. No merely selfish sorrow or affliction, how justly and eloquently soever expressed, can ever be pathetic in fiction; because it can never be, in any degree, sublime; but must always exhibit more of the weaknesses than the energies of the mind. Hence tragedy, which, as Aristotle has observed, in a passage before cited, is conversant only in the higher ranks of human nature; and which, to be interesting, must always be, in some degree, sublime, never dares to bring forward any scenes of distress, of which self is the mo tive; while comedy (by which I mean comedy as opposed to tragedy, that is, ludicrous comedy) which, as the same great author observes, is cons CHAP. I. Pathetic. PART. III. versant only with the lower ranks; and, consequently, seeks to please by the direct opposite Of the Su- of the sublime, never dares to bring forward any blime and distress, which has any other motive than self: for distress, which has any other adequate motive, can never be ridiculous; and distress, which is founded in that motive solely, must necessarily be either ridiculous, contemptible, or disgusting, when exhibited in fiction. 44. On the other hand, it is equally true that no kind of mimic distress can be interesting, the motives for which are entirely unconnected with self; because such distress must necessarily be extravagant and unnatural; and therefore unfit for either tragedy or comedy. A philanthropist ranting upon the calamities of a remote country, which he never saw; or lamenting, in tragic pomp, the misfortunes of a foreign potentate, whom he never knew, would only exhibit the disgusting image of an idiot or a maniac, which would not be tolerated on any stage. All our social arise out of our selfish passions, and continue so far connected with them, that, in separation, the one verge towards mental insanity, and the other become utterly sordid and despicable. Milton has been censured for making the devil too amiable and interesting a character; but CHAP. I. blime and Pathetic. Milton could not have done otherwise, without PART III. destroying all the interest of his poem: for to have exhibited so principal an actor in the events, Of the Suwhich he relates, without passions or affections, would have been dull and insipid; and to have given him only selfish passions would have been rendering him a character more fit for one of the scriptural farces, or sacred drolls of the middle ages, than for a most serious, and even solemn epic composition. The passage, in which he appears most amiable, is perhaps the most striking and pathetic in the whole poem; and as it occurs in the beginning of it, confers no small degree of interest upon what follows: his face Deep scars of thunder had entrench'd, and care The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, |