the taste can be supposed to work with; and yet where nothing but plain reason either is or can be suspected to opeTo multiply principles for every different appearance, is useless, and unphilosophical too in a high degree.

rate.

This matter might be pursued much farther; but it is not the extent of the subject which must prescribe our bounds, for what fubject does not branch out to infinity? it is the nature of our particular scheme, and the fingle point of view in which we confider it, which ought to put a stop to our researches.

A PHILO

A

PHILOSOPHICAL ENQUIRY

INTO THE

ORIGIN OF OUR IDEAS

OF THE

SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL.

T

PART I.

SECT. I.

NO V E LT Y.

HE first and the simplest emotion which we discover in the human mind, is Curiofity. By curiofity I mean whatever defire we have for, or whatever pleasure we take in, novelty. We fee children perpetually running from place to place to hunt out something new: they catch with great eagerness, and with very little choice, at whatever comes before them; their attention is engaged by every thing, because every thing has, in that stage of life, the charm of novelty to recommend it. But as those things which engage us merely by their novelty, cannot attach us

VOL. I.

N

for

for any length of time, curiofity is the most fuperficial of all the affections: it changes its object perpetually; it has an appetite which is very fharp, but very easily satisfied; and it has always an appearance of giddinefs, reftleffness and anxiety. Curiofity from its nature is a very active principle; it quickly runs over the greatest part of its objects, and foon exhausts the variety which is commonly to be met with in nature; the fame things make frequent returns, and they return with lefs and lefs of any agreeable effect. In short, the occurrences of life, by the time we come to know it a little, would be incapable of affecting the mind with any other fenfations than those of loathing and wearinefs, if many things were not adapted to affect the mind by means of other powers befides novelty in them, and of other paffions befides curiofity in ourselves. These powers and paffions fhall be confidered in their place. But whatever these powers are, or upon what principle foever they affect the mind, it is abfolutely neceffary that they should not be exerted in those things which a daily vulgar use have brought into a stale unaffecting familiarity. Some degree of novelty must be one of the materials in every inftrument which works upon the mind; and curiofity blends itfelf more or lefs with all our paffions.

IT

SE C T. II.

PAIN AND PLEASURE.

T feems then neceffary towards moving the paffions of people advanced in life to any confiderable degree, that the objects defigned for that purpose, befides their being

in fome measure new, fhould be capable of exciting pain. or pleasure from other causes. Pain and pleasure are fimple ideas, incapable of definition. People are not liable to be mistaken in their feelings, but they are very frequently wrong in the names they give them, and in their reasonings about them. Many are of opinion, that pain arises neceffarily from the removal of fome pleafure; as they think pleasure does from the ceafing or diminution of fome pain. For my part, I am rather inclined to imagine, that pain and pleasure, in their moft fimple and natural manner of affecting, are each of a pofitive nature, and by no means neceffarily dependent on each other for their existence: The human mind is often, and I think it is for the most part, in a state neither of pain nor pleasure, which I call a ftate of indifference. When I am carried from this state into a state of actual pleasure, it does not appear necessary that I should pass through the medium of any fort of pain. If in fuch a state of indifference, or eafe, or tranquillity, or call it what you please, you were to be fuddenly entertained with a concert of mufic; or fuppofe fome object of a fine fhape, and bright lively colours, to be prefented before you; or imagine your smell is gratified with the fragrance of a rofe; or if without any previous thirst you were to drink of fome pleafant kind of wine, or to taste of fome sweetmeat without being hungry; in all the feveral fenfes, of hearing, fmelling, and tafting, you undoubtedly find a pleasure; yet if I enquire into the state of your mind previous to these gratifications, you will hardly tell me that they found you in any kind of pain; or, having fatisfied these several fenfes with their feveral pleasures, will you fay that any pain has fucceeded, though the pleasure is abfolutely over? Suppofe, on the other hand, a man in the fame ftate of indifference, to receive a violent blow, or to drink

N 2

drink of fome bitter potion, or to have his ears wounded with some harsh and grating found; here is no removal of pleasure; and yet here is felt, in every fenfe which is affected, a pain very diftinguishable. It may be faid, perhaps, that the pain in these cases had its rise from the removal of the pleasure which the man enjoyed before, though that pleasure was of so low a degree as to be perceived only by the removal. But this feems to me a fubtilty, that is not discoverable in nature. For if, previous to the pain, I do not feel any actual pleasure, I have no reason to judge that any fuch thing exifts; fince pleasure is only pleasure as it is felt. The fame may be faid of pain, and with equal reafon. I can never persuade myself that pleasure and pain are mere relations, which can only exist as they are contrafted; but I think I can difcern clearly that there are pofitive pains and pleasures, which do not at all depend upon each other. Nothing is more certain to my own feelings than this. There is nothing which I can diftinguish in my mind with more clearness than the three ftates, of indifference, of pleasure, and of pain. Every one of these I can perceive without any fort of idea of its relation to any thing else. Caius is afflicted with a fit of the cholic; this man is actually in pain; stretch Caius upon the rack, he will feel a much greater pain: but does this pain of the rack arife from the removal of any pleasure? or is the fit of the cholic a pleasure or a pain just as we are pleased to confider it?

SECT.