The

and enormous bulk is more obfcure. beauty accordingly of this fyftem, raises à more lively emotion than its grandeur. But if we could imagine ourselves fpectators comprehending the whole fyftem at one view, the activity and irrefiftible force of these immenfe bodies would fill us with amazement. Nature cannot furnish another fcene fo grand.

Motion and force, agreeable in themfelves, are alfo agreeable by their utility when employed as means to accomplish fome beneficial end. Hence the fuperior beauty of fome machines, where force and motion concur to perform the work of numberless hands. Hence the beautiful motions, firm and regular, of a horfe trained for war. Every fingle ftep is the fitteft that can be for obtaining the end proposed. But the grace of motion is vifible chiefly in man, not only for the reafons mentioned, but also because every gefture is fignificant, The power however of agreeable motion is not a common talent. Every limb of the human body has a good and a bad, an agreeable and difagreeable action. Some mo

*r༽

tions

tions are extremely graceful, others are plain and vulgar: fome express dignity, others meannefs. But the pleasure here, arifing not fingly from the beauty of motion, but from indicating character and fentiment, belongs to a different chapter *.

I fhould conclude with the final cause of the relish we have for motion and force, were it not fo evident as to require no explanation. We are placed here in fuch circumstances as to make industry effential to our wellbeing; for without induftry the plainest neceffaries of life are not to be obtained. When our fituation therefore in this world requires activity and a conftant exertion of motion and force, Providence indulgently provides for our welfare in making these agreeable to us. It would be a blunder in our nature, to make things disagreeable that we depend on for exiftence; and even to make them indifferent, would tend to make us relax greatly from that degree of activity which is indifpenfable.

*Chap. 15.

CHAP.

Novelty, and the unexpected appearance of objects.

F all the particulars that contribute to raise emotions, not excepting beauty, or even greatness, novelty hath the most powerful influence. A new spectacle attracts multitudes. It produceth inftantaneously an emotion which totally occupies the mind, and for a time excludes all other objects. The foul feems to meet the strange appearance with a certain elongation of itself; and all is hushed in close contemplation. In fome inftances, there is perceived a degree of agony, attended with external symptoms extremely expreffive. Converfation among the vulgar never is more interesting, than when it runs upon ftrange objects and extraordinary events. Men tear themselves from their native country in search of things rare and new; and

curiofity

curiofity converts into a pleasure, the fatigues, and even perils of travelling. To what cause shall we afcribe these fingular appearances? The plain account of the matter follows. Curiosity is implanted in human nature, for a purpose extremely beneficial, that of acquiring knowledge. New and strange objects, above all others, excite our curiosity; and its gratification is the emotion above described, known by the name of wonder. This emotion is diftinguished from admiration. Novelty where-ever found, whether in a quality or action, is the cause of wonder: admiration is directed upon the operator who performs any thing wonderful.

During infancy, every new object is probably the occafion of wonder, in fome degree; becaufe, during infancy, every object at firft is ftrange as well as new. But as objects are rendered familiar by custom, we ceafe by degrees to wonder at new appearances that have any resemblance to what we are acquainted with. A thing must be fingular as well as new, to excite our curiofity and to raise our wonder. To fave multiplying words, I would be understood to

comprehend

comprehend both circumstances when I hereafter talk of novelty..

In an ordinary train of perceptions where one thing introduces another, not a fingle object makes its appearance unexpectedly *. The mind thus prepared for the reception of its objects, admits them one after ano ther without perturbation. But when a thing breaks in unexpectedly and without the preparation of any connection, it raises a fingular emotion known by the name of furprife. This emotion may be produced by the most familiar object, as when one accidentally meets a friend who was reported to be dead; or a man in high life, lately a beggar. On the other hand, a new object, however ftrange, will not produce this emotion if the fpectator be prepared for the fight. An elephant in India will not furprise a traveller who goes to fee one; and yet its novelty will raife his wonder. An Indian in Britain would be much furprised: to stumble upon an elephant feeding at large in the open fields; but the creature