Thus flies the fimple Bird into the Snare,
That skilful Fowlers for his Life prepare.
But let my Sons attend. Attend may they
Whom Youthful Vigour may to Sin betray;

Let them falfe Charmers fly, and guard their Hearts
Against the wily Wanton's pleafing Arts;
With Care direct their Steps, nor turn aftray.
To tread the Paths of her deceitful Way;
Left they too late of her fell Power complain,
And fall, where many mightier have been Slain.

No. 411.

Saturday, June 21.

Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius antè
Trita folo: juvat integros accedere fonteis,
Atque haurire:

T

Lucr. lib. 1. v. 925..

Infpired I trace the Mufes Seats,

Untroden yet: 'tis fweet to vifit firft

Untouch'd and Virgin Streams, and quench my thirft.

Ο

CREECH.

UR Sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all our Senfes. It fills the Mind with the largeft Variety of Ideas, converses with its Objects at the greatest Distance, and continues the longeft in Action without being tired or fatiated with its proper Enjoyments. The Senfe of Feeling can indeed give us a Notion of Extenfion, Shape, and all other Ideas that enter at the Eye, except Colours; but at the fame time it is very much ftraitned and confined in its Operations, to the number, bulk, and diftance of its particular Objects. Our Sight feems defigned to fupply all these Defects, and may be confidered, as a more delicate and diffufive kind of Touch, that fpreads itself over an infinite Multitude of Bodies, comprehends the largest Figures, and brings into our reach fome of the moft remote Parts of the Univerfe.

IT is this Senfe which furnishes the Imagination with its Ideas; fo that by the Pleasures of the Imagination or Fancy (which I fhall use promifcuously) I here mean fuch as arise from visible Objects, either when we have them actually in our View, or when we call up their Ideas into our Minds by Paintings, Statues, Defcriptions, or any the like Occafion. We cannot indeed have a fingle Image in the Fancy that did not make its first Entrance through the Sight; but we have the Power of retaining, altering and compounding those Images, which we have once received, into all the Varieties of Picture and Vision that are most agreeable to the Imagination; for by this Faculty a Man in a Dungeon is capable of entertaining himself with Scenes and Landskips more beautiful than any that can be found in the whole Compafs of Nature.

THERE are few Words in the English Language: which are employed in a more loose and uncircumfcribed Senfe than thofe of the Fancy and the Imagination. I therefore thought it neceffary to fix and determine the Notion of these two Words, as I intend to make use of them in the Thread of my following Speculations, that the Reader may conceive rightly what is the Subject which I proceed upon. I must therefore defire him to remember that, by the Pleafures of the Imagination, I mean only fuch Pleasures as arife originally from Sight, and that I divide these Pleasures into two Kinds: My Defign being first of all to difcourfe of those Primary Pleafures of the Imagination, which intirely proceed from fuch Objects as are before our Eyes; and in the next place to speak of those fecondary Pleasures of the Imagination which flow from the Ideas of vifible Objects, when the Objects are not actually before the Eye, but are called up into our Memories, or formed into agreeable Visions of things that are either Absent or Fictitious,

THE Pleasures of the Imagination, taken in the full Extent, are not fo grofs as thofe of Senfe, nor fo refined as thofe of the Understanding. The laft are, indeed, more preferable, because they are founded on fome new Knowledge or Improvement in the Mind of Man; yet it must be confeft that those of the Imagination are

as

as great and as transporting as the other. A'beautiful Profpect delights the Soul, as much as a Demonstration; and a Description in Homer has charmed more Readers than a Chapter in Ariftotle. Befides, the Pleafures of the Imagination have this Advantage, above thofe of the Understanding, that they are more obvious, and more eafy to be acquired. It is but opening the Eye, and the Scene enters. The Colours paint themselves on the Fancy, with very little Attention of Thought or Application of Mind in the Beholder. We are ftruck, we know not how, with the Symmetry of any thing we fee, and immediately affent to the Beauty of an Object, without inquiring into the particular Causes and Occafions of it.

A Man of a polite Imagination is let into a great many Pleasures, that the Vulgar are not capable of receiving. He can converfe with a Picture, and find an agreeable Companion in a Statue. He meets with a secret Refreshment in a Defcription, and often feels a greater Satisfaction in the Profpect of Fields and Meadows, than another does in the Poffeffion. It gives him, indeed, a kind of Property in every thing he fees, and makes the most rude uncultivated Parts of Nature adminifter to his Pleasures: So that he looks upon the World, as it were, in another Light, and discovers in it a Multitude of Charms, that conceal themselves from the generality of Mankind.

any

THERE are, indeed, but very few who know how to be idle and innocent, or have a Relish of Pleasures that are not Criminal; every Diversion they take is at the Expence of some one Virtue or another, and their very firft Step out of Bufinefs is into Vice or Folly. A Man fhould endeavour, therefore, to make the Sphere of his innocent Pleasures as wide as poffible, that he may retire into them with Safety, and find in them fuch a Satisfaction as a wife Man would not blush to take. Of this Nature are thofe of the Imagination, which do not require fuch a Bent of Thought as is neceffary to our more ferious Employments, nor, at the fame time, suffer the Mind to fink into that Negligence and Remiffness, which are apt to accompany our more fenfual Delights, but, like a gentle Exercife to the Faculties, awaken them

from

from Sloth and Idlenefs, without putting them upon any Labour or Difficulty.

WE might here add, that the Pleasures of the Fancy are more conducive to Health, than those of the Underftanding, which are worked out by Dint of Thinking, and attended with too violent a Labour of the Brain. Delightful Scenes, whether in Nature, Painting, or Poetry, have a kindly Influence on the Body, as well as the Mind, and not only ferve to clear and brighten the Imagination, but are able to disperse Grief and Melancholy, and to fet the Animal Spirits in pleafing and agreeable Motions. For this Reafon Sir Francis Bacon, in his Effay upon Health, has not thought it improper to prefcribe to his Reader a Poem or a Profpect, where he particularly diffuades him from knotty and fubtile Difquifitions, and advifes him to purfue Studies that fill the Mind with fplendid and illuftrious Objects, as Hiftories, Fables, and Contemplations of Nature.

I have in this Paper, by way of Introduction, fettled the Notion of thofe Pleasures of the Imagination which are the Subject of my prefent Undertaking, and endeavoured, by feveral Confiderations, to recommend to my Reader the Pursuit of thofe Pleasures. I fhall, in my next Paper, examine the feveral Sources from whence thefe Pleasures are derived.

No 412.

I

Monday, June 23.

Divifum fic breve fiet Opus. Mart. Ep. 83. lib. 4The Work, divided aptly, fhorter grows.

Shall firft confider those Pleasures of the Imagination, which arife from the actual View and Survey of outward Objects: And thefe, I think, all proceed from the Sight of what is Great, Uncommon, or Beautiful. There may, indeed, be fomething fo terrible or offenfive, that the Horror or Loathfomnefs of an Object may over-bear the Pleasure which results from its Greatness, Novelty, or

Beauty;

Beauty; but ftill there will be fuch a Mixture of Delight in the very Difguft it gives us, as any of these three Qualifications are moft confpicuous and prevailing.

of

BY Greatness, I do not only mean the Bulk of any fingle Object, but the Largeness of a whole View, confidered as one intire Piece. Such are the Profpects of an open Champian Country, a vast uncultivated Defart, of huge Heaps of Mountains, high Rocks and Precipices, or a wide Expanfe of Waters, where we are not ftruck with the Novelty or Beauty of the Sight, but with that rude kind of Magnificence which appears in many thefe ftupendous Works of Nature. Our Imagination loves to be filled with an Object, or to grasp at any thing that is too big for its Capacity. We are flung into a pleafing Aftonishment at fuch unbounded Views, and feel a delightful Stilnefs and Amazement in the Soul at the Apprehenfions of them. The Mind of Man naturally hates every thing that looks like a Restraint upon it, and is apt to fancy itself under a fort of Confinement, when the Sight is pent up in a narrow Compass, and fhortned on every fide by the Neighbourhood of Walls or Mountains. On the contrary, a fpacious Horizon is an Image of Liberty, where the Eye has Room to range abroad, to expatiate at large on the Immenfity of its Views, and to lofe its felf amidst the Variety of Objects that offer themselves to its Obfervation. Such wide and undetermined Profpects are as pleafing to the Fancy, as the Speculations of Eternity or Infinitude are to the Understanding. But if there be a Beauty or Uncommonnefs joined with this Grandeur, as in a troubled Ocean, a Heaven adorned with Stars and Meteors, or a fpacious Landskip cut out into Rivers, Woods, Rocks, and Meadows, the Pleasure ftill grows upon us, as it arifes from more than a fingle Principle.

EVERY thing that is new or uncommon raises a Pleasure in the Imagination, because it fills the Soul with an agreeable Surprife, gratifies its Curiofity, and gives it an Idea of which it was not before poffeft. We are indeed fo often converfant with one Set of Objects, and tired out with so many repeated Shows of the fame Things, that whatever is new or uncommon contributes a little to vary human Life, and to divert our Minds, for a while,