this can very seldom be the case, the following rules seem immediately to present themselves, for the direction of the artist

1. That where the utility of forms is equal, that will be the most beautiful, to which the most pleasing expression of form is given

2. That when those expressions are at variance, when the utility of the form cannot be produced, without sacrificing its natural beauty, or when this beauty of form cannot be preserved without sacrificing its utility, that form will be most universally and most permanently beautiful, in which the expression of utility is most fully preserved.

To human art, indeed, this union will always be difficult, and often impossible; and the artist, whatever may be his genius, must be content to suffer that sublime distress, which a great mind alone can feel, "to dedicate his life to the attain"ment of an ideal beauty, and to die at last without attaining "it."* Yet, if it is painful to us to feel the limits that are thus set to the invention of man, it is pleasing, from the narrow schools of human art, to turn our regard to the great school of nature, and to observe the stupendous wisdom with which these expressions are united in almost every form. "And here, I think," says Mr. Hogarth, "will be the most proper place to speak of a most curious difference between the living ma"chines of nature in respect of fitness, and such poor ones in comparison with them, as men are only capable of making. "A clock, by the government's order, has been made by Mr. "Harrison, for the keeping of true time at sea; which is per"haps one of the most exquisite movements ever made.

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Happy the ingenious contriver! although the form of the "whole, or of every part of this curious machine, should be "ever so confused, or displeasingly shaped to the eye, and although even its movements should be disagreeable to look "at, provided it answers the end proposed: an ornamental

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objects can be attained, what will follow? But as this can seldom be the case, what rules seem to suggest themselves for the direction of the artist? Of this union what is observed; and what must the artist be content to suffer? Yet if it is painful to us to feel the limits that are thus set to the invention of man, what is a pleasing task? On this subject what says Mr. Hogarth? Of

* Sir Joshua Reynolds.

"composition was no part of his scheme, otherwise than as a "polish might be necessary; if ornaments are required to be "added to mend its shape, care must be taken that they are "no obstruction to the movement itself, and the more as they "would be superfluous as to the main design. But, in nature's "machines, how wonderfully do we see beauty and use go hand "in hand! Had a machine for this purpose been nature's "work, the whole and every individual part might have had exquisite beauty of form, without danger of destroying the exquisiteness of i's motion, even as if ornament had been "the sole aim; its movements too might have been graceful "without one superfluous title added for either of these lovely “ purposes. Now this is that curious difference between the "fitness of nature's machines, and those made by mortal "hands."

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The application of this fine observation, to innumerable instances, both of inanimate and animated forms, it is in the power of every one to make; and I am much more willing to leave the impression which it must produce upon every mind entire, than to weaken it by any illustrations of my own.

the application of this fine observation, what is observed; and what remark follows?

CHAPTER V.

OF THE BEAUTY AND SUBLIMITY OF MOTION.

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MOTION is in many cases productive of the emotions of sublimity and beauty with this quality, accordingly, we have many interesting and affecting associations. These associations arise, either from the nature of motion itself, or from the nature of the bodies moved. The fol owing illustrations may, perhaps, show that the beauty and sub imity of motion arises from these associations, and that we have no reason to believe that this quality of matter is, in itself, either beautiful or sublime.

I. All motion is produced either by visible or invisible power: by some cause which we perceive, or by some which is not the object of sense.

With all motions of the latter kind, we connect the idea of voluntary power; and such motions are in fact expressive to us of the exertion of power. Whether this association is the consequence of experience, or whether it is the effect of an original principle, it is not at present material to inquire. The instance of children, and even of animals, who uniformly infer life, where they perceive motion without any material cause, are sufficient evidences of the fact.

That the sublimity and beauty of motion arises from their expression of power, seems to be evident from the two following considerations

Of what is motion in many cases productive; and what is the consequence? From what do these associations arise? The following illustrations may show what? How is all motion produced? With all motions of the latter kind, what ideas do we connect; and of what are they expressive? What is it not at present material to inquire; and what are sufficient evidences of the

1. There is no instance where motion, which is the apparent effect of force, is beautiful or sublime. It is impossible to conceive the motion of a body that is dragged or visibly impelled by another body, to be either sublime or beautiful.

2. All beautiful or sublime motion is expressed in language by verbs in the active voice. We say even in common language, that a torrent pours-a stream glides-a rivulet winds-that lightning darts-that light streams.-Change these expressions, by means of any verbs in the passive voice, and the whole beauty of their motion is destroyed. In poetical composition, the same circumstance is uniformly observable. If motion were, in itself, beautiful or sublime, or if any particular kinds of motion were so, these circumstances could not happen; and such motions would still be beautiful or sublime, whether they were expressive of power or not.

The character of power varies according to its degree, and produces, according to this difference, different emotions in our mind. Great power produces an emotion of awe and admira tion: gentle, or moderate, or diminutive power, produces an emotion of tenderness, of interest, of affection. To every species of power that is pleasing, the idea of superiority to obstacle is necessary. All power, whether great or small, which is infe. rior to obstacle, induces the idea of imperfection, and is considered with a kind of dissatisfaction.

These considerations will probably explain a great part of the absolute sublimity and beauty of motion.

Motion differs according to its DEGREE, and according to its

DIRECTION.

I. Of the DEGREE of MOTION. All motion, when rapid, is, I apprehend, accompanied with the idea of great power: when

fact? That the sublimity and beauty of motion arises from their expression of power, seems evident from what two considerations? How may the whole beauty of their motion be destroyed; and of poetry what is observed? Under what circumstances could not this happen; and what follows? According to what does the character of power vary, and what does it produce? How is this illustrated? To every species of power that is pleasing, what idea is necessary; and why? What will these considerations probably explain? According to what does motion differ? With what is all motion when rapid accompanied; and with what when slow? For the truth of this remark, to what

slow, on the other hand, with the idea of gentle or diminutive power. For the truth of this remark, I must appeal to the reader's own observation. Rapid motion, accordingly, is sublime, slow motion beautiful.

II. Of the DIRECTION of MOTION.

Motion is either in a straight line, in an angular line, or in a serpentine or curvilinear line.

1. Motion in a straight line chiefly derives its expression from its degree. When rapid, it is simply sublime: when slow, it is simply beautiful.

2. Motion in an angular line is expressive of obstruction, or of imperfect power: when considered therefore in itself, and without relation to the body moving, it is simply unpleasing.

3. Motion in curves is expressive of ease, of freedom, of playfulness; and is consequently beautiful.

The truth of this account of our associations with motion, I refer to the examination of the reader. The real beauty and sublimity of the different appearances of motion, seem to me to correspond very accurately with the expressions which the different combinations of the degree, and the direction of motion, convey.

1. Rapid motion, in a straight line, is simply expressive of great power: it is, accordingly, in general, sublime. Rapid motion, in angular lines, is expressive of great, but imperfect power-of a power which every obstacle is sufficient to overcome: I believe that motion of this kind is accordingly very seldom sublime. Rapid motion in curve lines is expressive of great power, united with ease, freedom, or playfulness: motion of this kind, accordingly, though more sublime than the preceding, is less sublime than the first species of motion. The course of a torrent, when in a straight line, is more sublime than when it winds into curves, and much more sublime than

does our author appeal; and what remark follows? What are the directions of motion? From what does motion in a straight line chiefly derive its expression; and what is observed of it when rapid, and when slow? Of what is motion in an angular line expressive; and what follows? Of what is motion in curves expressive; and what is the consequence? To what is the truth of this account of our associations referred? With what does the real beauty and sublimity of the different appearances of motion seem to correspond? How is this remark illustrated? Of what is rapid motion in curve lines expressive; and what follows? How is this remark illustrated from the course