trees in a wood. But in things of unequal rank, order is a governing principle. Thus our tendency is, to view the principal fubje&t before we defcend to its acceffories or ornaments, and the fuperior before the inferior or dependent. We are equally averse to enter into a minute confideration of conftituent parts, till the thing be first surveyed as a whole. In paffing from a part to the whole, and from an acceffory to its principal, the connection is the fame as in the oppofite direction. But a fenfe of order aids the tranfition in the latter cafe, and a fenfe of disorder obstructs it in the former. It need fcarce be added, that in thinking or reflecting on any of these particulars, and in paffing from one to another ideally, we are fenfible of eafinefs or difficulty precisely as when they are set before our eyes. Our fenfe of order is confpicuous with respect to natural operations; for it always coincides with the order of nature. Thinking upon a body in motion, we follow its natural courfe. The mind falls with a heavy body, defcends with a river, and afcends with flame and fmoke. In tracing out a family, we incline to begin at the founder, and to defcend gradually to his lateft pofterity. On the contrary, musing on a lofty oak, we begin at the trunk, and mount from it to the branches. As to historical facts, we love to proceed in the order of time; or, which comes to the fame, to proceed along the chain of caufes and effects. But though, in following out a historical chain, our bent is to proceed orderly from causes to their effects, we find not the fame bent in matters of fcience. There we feem rather difpofed to proceed from effects to their causes, and from particular pofitions to those which are more general. Why this difference in matters that appear fo nearly related? The cafes are fimilar in appearance only, not not in reality. In a hiftorical chain, every event is particular, the effect of fome former event, and the cause of others that follow. In fuch chain, there is nothing to bias the mind from the order of nature. Widely different is the cafe of fcience, when we endeavour to trace out caufes and their effects. Many experiments are commonly reduced under one caufe; and again, many of these under some one still more general and comprehenfive. In our progrefs from particular effects to general caufes, and from particular propofitions to the more comprehenfive, we feel a gradual dilatation or expanfion of mind, like what is felt in proceeding along an ascending feries, which is extremely delightful. The pleasure here exceeds what arifes from following the courfe of nature; and it is this pleafure which regulates our train of thought in the cafe now mentioned, and in others that are fimilar. Thefe obfervations, by the way, furnish materials for inftituting a comparifon betwixt the fynthetic and analytic methods of reafoning. The fynthetic method defcending regularly from principles to their confequences, is more agreeable to the strictness of order. But in following the opposite course in the analytic method, we have a fenfible pleasure, like mounting upward, which is not felt in the other. The analytic method is more agreeable to the imagination. The other method will be preferred by thofe only who with rigidity adhere to order, and give no indulgence to natural emotions *. It appears then that we are framed by nature to relish order and connection. When an object is introduced by a proper connection, we are confcious of a certain pleafure arifing from that circumstance. Among objects of equal rank, the pleasure is propor tioned * A train of perceptions or ideas, with refpect to its uniformity and variety, is handled afterward, chap. 9. tioned to the degree of connection; but among unequal objects, where we require a certain order, the pleasure arifes chiefly from an orderly arrangement. Of this one may be made fenfible, in tracing objects contrary to the courfe of nature, or contrary to our fenfe of order. The mind proceeds with alacrity from a whole to its parts, and from a prin-cipal to its acceffories; but in the contrary directi-on, it is fenfible of a fort of retrograde motion, which is unpleasant. And here may be remarked the great influence of order upon the mind of man. Grandeur, which makes a deep impreffion,» inclines us, in running over any feries, to proceed from fmall to great, rather than from great to fmall. But order prevails over this tendency; and in paffing from the whole to its parts,. and from a fubject to its ornaments, affords pleafure as well as facility, which are not felt in the oppofite courfe. Elevation. touches the mind not less than grandeur doth; and in raifing the mind to elevated objects, there is a sensible pleafure. But the course of nature hath still a greater influence than elevation; and therefore the pleasure. of falling with rain, and defcending gradually with a river, prevails over that of mounting upward. Hence the agreeableness of smoke afcending in a calm morning. Elevation concurs with the course of nature, to make this object delightful. I am extremely fenfible of the disguft men generally have at abftract fpeculation; and for that reafon I would avoid it altogether, were it poffible in a work which profeffes to draw the rules of criticism from human nature, their true fource. There is indeed no choice, other than to continue for fome time in the fame track, or to abandon the undertaking altogether. Candor obliges me to notify this to my readers, that such of them whose averfion to abstract specu→ lation is invincible, may stop short here; for till principles be explained, I can promise no entertainment to thofe who fhun thinking. But I flatter myself with a different tafte in the bulk of readers. Some few, I imagine, will relish the abftract part for its own fake; and many for the ufeful purposes to which it may be applied. For encouraging the latter to proceed with alacrity, I affure them beforehand that the foregoing fpeculation leads to many important rules of criticifm, which fhall be unfolded in the courfe of this work. In the mean time, for inftant fatisfaction in part, they will be pleased to accept the following fpecimen. It is required in every work of art, that, like an organic fyftem, the constituent parts be mutually connected, and bear each of them a relation to the whole, fome more intimate, fome lefs, according to their destination. Order is not lefs effential than connection; and when due regard is paid to these, we have a sense of just compofition, and fo far are pleased with the performance. Homer is -defective in order and connection; and Pindar more remarkably. Regularity, order and connection, are painful restraints on a bold and fertile imagination: and are not patiently submitted to, but after much culture and difcipline. In Horace there is no fault more eminent than want of connection. Inftances are without number. In the first fourteen lines of ode 7. lib. 1. he mentions feveral towns and districts which by fome were relished more than by others. In the remainder of the ode, Plancus is exhorted to drown his cares in wine. Having narrowly escaped death by the fall of tree, this poet takes occafion properly to obferve, that while we guard against fome dangers, we are exposed to others we cannot foresee. He ends with difplaying the power of mufic. 'The parts * * Lib. 2. ode 13. a parts of ode 16. lib. 2. are fo loosely connected as to disfigure a poem otherwise extremely beautiful. The 1ft, 2d, 3d, 4th, 11th, 24th, 27th odes of the 3d book, lie open all of them to the fame cenfure. The 1ft fatir, book 1. is fo deformed by want of unity and connection of parts, as upon the whole to be scarce agreeable. It commences with an important question, How it happens that perfons who are fo much fatisfied with themfelves, are generally fo little with their condition? After illuftrating the observation in a sprightly manner by feveral examples, the author, forgetting his fubject, enters upon a declamation against avarice, which he pursues till the line 108. There he makes an apology for wandering, and promises to return to his fubject. But avarice having got poffeflion of his mind, he follows out that theme to the end, and never returns to the queftion proposed in the beginning. In the Georgics of Virgil, though esteemed the moft finished work of that author, the parts are ill connected, and the tranfitions far from being sweet and easy. In the first book he deviates from his fubject to give a description of the five zones. The want of connection here is remarkable, as well as in the defcription of the prodigies that accompanied the death of Cæfar, with which the fame book is concluded. A digreffion upon the praises of Italy in the fecond book †, is not more happily introduced. And in the midft of a declamation upon the pleasures of husbandry, that makes part of the fame book, the author appears perfonally upon the stage without the flightest connection. The two prefaces of Salluft look as if they had been prefixed by fome blunder to his two hiftories. They will fuit any other history as well, or any subject as well as history. Even the mem bers + Lin. 475. |