duction was characterized by illimitable freedom in subject and in treatment. This word "romance," which first indicated the languages derived from the Roman, i. e., Latin, was afterwards applied to the works of the imagination which arose in the "Romance" languages; and from this usage the term “romantic" was derived, to denote that freedom from the restraint of the classical school which marked this new literature. These two principles have been the great rivals in modern letters; they have formed parties, which have divided epochs and nations, under the names of the classical and romantic schools.

Dante, the father of modern poetry, followed this new impulse. He imitated no classical model; he was a law unto himself; and in his sublime poetry he struck the key-note of modern literature. Chaucer, unlike him in everything else, resembled him in this, that he followed no classical model, but wrote from himself for the men of his generation, and became the father of his national poetry. Spenser pursued the same course; and Shakespeare came next to show that the modern world had surpassed the ancient, and that in himself and Dante Homer and Sophocles had been outdone. Henceforth there were other lawgivers and other models than those of Greece, and the modern literature might take its stand, not on the old law of restriction, but on the new law of liberty. Dante and Shakespeare are thus the great names of the romantic school. Wherever this school and its spirit has prevailed, there literature is greatest. In the ages of English literature the spirit of each has been in the ascendency; and the classical spirit dominated in our Augustan age, the age of Anne; but this Augustan age is inferior to the Elizabethan, as the poetry of France is inferior to that of England; Corneille and Racine to Shakespeare and Goethe; or Voltaire's Henriade to Milton's Paradise Lost.

CHAPTER II.

THE SUBLIME.

$424. THE SUBLIME.

THE sublime is closely connected with the beautiful. It is apprehended by the same sensibility-the taste. The theory of its origin is the same. It differs from it not in kind, but in degree, as the lofty mountain from the gentle hill; the light flame from a great conflagration; or the love of a mother for a child from the love of the same mother risking her life or laying it down for the sake of her offspring. Thus the one may change insensibly into the other, as the rippling stream grows into the majestic river, or the gentle breeze into the tremendous hurricane.

The emotion of the sublime is an internal elevation of mind produced by wonder, awe, or terror.

The sublime may be considered, first, in nature; secondly, in morals; and the sources of this emotion may be considered under the head of each.

425. THE SUBLIME IN NATURE—THE VAST AND BOUNDLESS. In the first place we have to consider the sources of the sublime in nature.

The chief of these may be found in the vast and boundless, and may refer to space, duration, power, or sound.

In space the sublime arises from the contemplation of height, as a lofty cliff or high mountain, the firmament of heaven; from depth, as a deep abyss, the crater of a volcano; from extent, as a great plain, the expanse of ocean. Finally, when all bounds are removed, there arises the sublime idea of infinitude.

In duration the sublime may arise from the thought of the lapse of centuries in human history, the passage of time in the geological ages, or the inconceivable progress of astronomical cycles. Here, too, as with space, if all bounds be removed,

the result is the sublime idea of the infinite in duration, which is eternity.

The exhibition of vast power has the same effect upon the mind. It may be human power, as that of a great king or a great conqueror. On the other hand, it may be the power of a great legislator or benefactor. It may be the power of nature, as exhibited in the rolling waters of the ocean, the progress of a mighty conflagration, the might of an earthquake, or the fury of a storm.

In sound, vastness may suggest the idea of power, as in the roar of cataracts, the peal of thunder, or the volleying of a cannonade; but there is also the sublime in sound which has no such accessory notion, as the toll of a midnight bell, or the knocking at the gates in Macbeth.

§ 426. AWE.

The sublime is also produced by the sensation of awe. Religious awe and veneration is a fruitful source, and may be illustrated by many passages in the Sacred Scriptures, especially the visions of Isaiah, Ezekiel, and in the Apocalypse. The sublime effect of the interior of a Gothic cathedral affords a familiar example.

Silence is another cause. "There was silence in heaven for the space of half an hour," is the sublime language of the Apocalypse, which thus introduces an abrupt cessation to the tremendous movement of the vision. "Be still, and know that I

am God," says the Psalmist.

The same thing may be seen in Campbell's ode:

"There was silence still as death,

And the boldest held his breath
For a time."

Darkness produces the same effect, whether it be encountered by night, or in a gloomy gorge, or in the recesses of mountains or caverns. "O night!" exclaims Byron, "and storm and darkness, ye are wondrous strong." The representations of the Deity have additional sublimity when this is added. "Clouds and darkness," says the Psalmist, "are round about him." This has been repeated by Milton, who says:

"How oft amid

Thick clouds and dark does heaven's all-ruling Sire
Choose to reside."

To these must be added the supernatural. Here awe is associated with terror, and the human mind shrinks back from its own fancies. Many of the most sublime passages in literature have this as their basis, and among them may be mentioned as pre-eminent the dwλov of Darius in the Persæ, the ghost of Hamlet's father, and the apparition of Banquo..

§ 427. THE MORAL SUBLIME.

In the second place we have to consider the moral sublime. This is the sublime as displayed in sentiments, words, or actions; and may be said to arise from anything in these that transcends ordinary human capacity.

Sublimity is recognized in those actions or sufferings which exhibit the heroic virtues. History and literature are full of such instances, which, whether authentic or imagined, are known to all, and have become the subjects of perpetual ref

erence.

The display of extraordinary courage has this effect, as when Satan, in Paradise Lost, offers to go first in search of the world of man :

"Who shall tempt with wandering feet

The dark, unfathomed, infinite abyss?"

Connected with this is an indomitable will, an invincible spirit which is seen most strikingly in the same character, who, though delivered over to infinite wrath and infinite despair, disdains submission.

Where a conflict is carried on against great odds the effect is still grander. It is this that gives such magic influence to the names of Marathon and Morgarten; Salamis and Sempach; to the story of Horatius and his two friends keeping the bridge against an army; or the conquest of Mexico by a handful of Spaniards. Devotion and self-sacrifice carry us even beyond this, as in the case of Scævola or Curtius or Constantine Palæologus. The virtues of fidelity and endurance are akin to these, and inspire Regulus in Roman legend and Prometheus. in Greek poetry; while even these are surpassed in Christian story by the sublime constancy of martyr, virgin, and confessor. There is sublimity also in pride, as in the case of Cleopatra, who died rather than submit to humiliation; and in ambition, as in the case of Napoleon.

The sublime may be seen in words as well as in actions. The sayings of great men which have been handed down in history are generally of this description. Many are attributed to the heroes of classical story, and these have their counterpart in the words of the men of later times. Of such a character are the words of Hildebrand, who, dying at Salerno after a long and bitter struggle, said, "I have loved righteousness and hated iniquity, and therefore I die in exile;" or those of Luther on entering Worms, to confront a hostile world, "Though there were as many devils in Worms as tiles on the house-tops, still I would enter;" or of Francis I., after the battle of Pavia, "I have lost all but honor;" or of Sir Walter Raleigh, as he felt the edge of the axe before laying his head on the block, "It is a sharp remedy, but will cure all diseases;" of Sir Philip Sydney, as he motioned away the water to the dying soldier, "Thy necessity is greater than mine;" or of Sir Humphrey Gilbert going down at sea, "Never mind, we are as near heaven at sea as ashore;" of Nelson, "England expects every man to do his duty;" of Napoleon, "Soldiers, from the summit of yonder pyramids forty centuries look down upon you." These and many more are but the verbal expression of the same lofty virtues which constitute the sublime in action. They show unflinching courage, invincible resolution, faith stronger than death, the victory over self, the sacrifice of life itself, or lofty resignation when that life is demanded by necessity.

$428. THE SUBLIME IN LITERATURE.

We have next to consider the sublime in writing.

The treatise of Longinus is one of the most valuable of the ancient rhetorical writings, and also one of the best upon the sublime. Although his view of the subject is wider than would at present be allowed, yet many of his remarks are most just and important:

"The sublime," says Longinus, "is a certain excellence and perfection of language, and the greatest writers, both in prose and poetry, have by this alone obtained the prize of glory and clothed their renown with immortality. The sublime not only persuades, but transports an audience. By its astounding effects it is always more powerful than that which merely persuades or delights; for in most cases it rests wholly with ourselves either to resist or to yield to persuasion. But the sublime, by the application of