Chapter VII: Canto III: Progress of the Mind

I. Now rose, adorn'd with Beauty's brightest hues,
The graceful HIEROPHANT, and winged MUSE;
Onward they step around the stately piles,
O'er porcelain floors, through laqueated ailes,
Eye Nature's lofty and her lowly seats,
Her gorgeous palaces, and green retreats,
Pervade her labyrinths with unerring tread,
And leave for future guests a guiding thread.

First with fond gaze blue fields of air they sweep,
Or pierce the briny chambers of the deep; 10
Earth's burning line, and icy poles explore,
Her fertile surface, and her caves of ore;
Or mark how Oxygen with Azote-Gas
Plays round the globe in one aerial mass,
Or fused with Hydrogen in ceaseless flow
Forms the wide waves, which foam and roll below.

[Footnote: _How Oxygen_, l. 13. The atmosphere which
surrounds us, is composed of twenty-seven parts of oxygen gas
and seventy-three of azote or nitrogen gas, which are simply
diffused together, but which, when combined, become nitrous
acid. Water consists of eighty-six parts oxygen, and fourteen
parts of hydrogen or inflammable air, in a state of
combination. It is also probable, that much oxygen enters the
composition of glass; as those materials which promote
vitrification, contain so much of it, as minium and
manganese; and that glass is hence a solid acid in the
temperature of our atmosphere, as water is a fluid one.]

Next with illumined hands through prisms bright
Pleased they untwist the sevenfold threads of light;
Or, bent in pencils by the lens, convey
To one bright point the silver hairs of Day. 20
Then mark how two electric streams conspire
To form the resinous and vitreous fire;
Beneath the waves the fierce Gymnotus arm,
And give Torpedo his benumbing charm;
Or, through Galvanic chain-work as they pass,
Convert the kindling water into gas.

[Footnote: _Two electric streams_, l. 21. It is the opinion
of some philosophers, that the electric ether consists of two
kinds of fluids diffused together or combined; which are
commonly known by the terms of positive and negative
electricity, but are by these electricians called vitreous
and resinous electricity. The electric shocks given by the
torpedo and by the gymnotus, are supposed to be similar to
those of the Galvanic pile, as they are produced in water.
Which water is decomposed by the Galvanic pile and converted
into oxygen and hydrogen gas; see Additional Note XII.

The magnetic ether may also be supposed to consist of two
fluids, one of which attracts the needle, and the other
repels it; and, perhaps, chemical affinities, and gravitation
itself, may consist of two kinds of ether surrounding the
particles of bodies, and may thence attract at one distance
and repel at another; as appears when two insulated
electrised balls are approached to each other, or when two
small globules of mercury are pressed together.]

How at the poles opposing Ethers dwell,
Attract the quivering needle, or repel.
How Gravitation by immortal laws
Surrounding matter to a centre draws; 30
How Heat, pervading oceans, airs, and lands,
With force uncheck'd the mighty mass expands;
And last how born in elemental strife
Beam'd the first spark, and lighten'd into Life.

Now in sweet tones the inquiring Muse express'd
Her ardent wish; and thus the Fair address'd.
"Priestess of Nature! whose exploring sight
Pierces the realms of Chaos and of Night;
Of space unmeasured marks the first and last,
Of endless time the present, future, past; 40
Immortal Guide! O, now with accents kind
Give to my ear the progress of the Mind.
How loves, and tastes, and sympathies commence
From evanescent notices of sense?
How from the yielding touch and rolling eyes
The piles immense of human science rise?--
With mind gigantic steps the puny Elf,
And weighs and measures all things but himself!"

The indulgent Beauty hears the grateful Muse,
Smiles on her pupil, and her task renews. 50
Attentive Nymphs in sparkling squadrons throng,
And choral Virgins listen to the song;
Pleased Fawns and Naiads crowd in silent rings,
And hovering Cupids stretch their purple wings.

II. "FIRST the new actions of the excited sense,
Urged by appulses from without, commence;
With these exertions pain or pleasure springs,
And forms perceptions of external things.
Thus, when illumined by the solar beams,
Yon waving woods, green lawns, and sparkling streams,
In one bright point by rays converging lie 61
Plann'd on the moving tablet of the eye;
The mind obeys the silver goads of light,
And IRRITATION moves the nerves of sight.

[Footnote: _And Irritation moves_, l. 64. Irritation is an
exertion or change of some extreme part of the sensorium
residing in the muscles or organs of sense in consequence of
the appulses of external bodies. The word perception includes
both the action of the organ of sense in consequence of the
impact of external objects and our attention to that action;
that is, it expresses both the motion of the organ of sense,
or idea, and the pain or pleasure that succeeds or
accompanies it. Irritative ideas are those which are preceded
by irritation, which is excited by objects external to the
organs of sense: as the idea of that tree, which either I
attend to, or which I shun in walking near it without
attention. In the former case it is termed perception, in the
latter it is termed simply an irritative idea.]

"These acts repeated rise from joys or pains,
And swell Imagination's flowing trains;
So in dread dreams amid the silent night
Grim spectre-forms the shuddering sense affright;
Or Beauty's idol-image, as it moves,
Charms the closed eye with graces, smiles, and loves; 70
Each passing form the pausing heart delights,
And young SENSATION every nerve excites.

[Footnote: _And young Sensation_, l. 72. Sensation is an
exertion or change of the central parts of the sensorium or
of the whole of it, _beginning_ at some of those extreme
parts of it which reside in the muscles or organs of sense.
Sensitive ideas are those which are preceded by the sensation
of pleasure or pain, are termed Imagination, and constitute
our dreams and reveries.]

"Oft from sensation quick VOLITION springs,
When pleasure thrills us, or when anguish stings;
Hence Recollection calls with voice sublime
Immersed ideas from the wrecks of Time,
With potent charm in lucid trains displays
Eventful stories of forgotten days.
Hence Reason's efforts good with ill contrast,
Compare the present, future, and the past; 80
Each passing moment, unobserved restrain
The wild discordancies of Fancy's train;
But leave uncheck'd the Night's ideal streams,
Or, sacred Muses! your meridian dreams.

[Footnote: _Quick Volition springs_, l. 73. Volition is an
exertion or change of the central parts of the sensorium, or
of the whole of it _terminating_ in some of those extreme
parts of it which reside in the muscles and organs of sense.
The vulgar use of the word _memory_ is too unlimited for our
purpose: those ideas which we voluntarily recall are here
termed ideas of _recollection_, as when we will to repeat the
alphabet backwards. And those ideas which are suggested to us
by preceding ideas are here termed ideas of _suggestion_, as
whilst we repeat the alphabet in the usual order; when by
habits previously acquired B is suggested by A, and C by B,
without any effort of deliberation. Reasoning is that
operation of the sensorium by which we excite two or many
tribes of ideas, and then reexcite the ideas in which they
differ or correspond. If we determine this difference, it is
called judgment; if we in vain endeavour to determine it, it
is called doubting.

If we reexcite the ideas in which they differ, it is called
distinguishing. If we reexcite those in which they
correspond, it is called comparing.]

[Footnote: _Each passing moment_, l. 81. During our waking
hours, we perpetually compare the passing trains of our ideas
with the known system of nature, and reject those which are
incongruous with it; this is explained in Zoonomia, Sect.
XVII. 3. 7. and is there termed Intuitive Analogy. When we
sleep, the faculty of volition ceases to act, and in
consequence the uncompared trains of ideas become incongruous
and form the farrago of our dreams; in which we never
experience any surprise, or sense of novelty.]

"And last Suggestion's mystic power describes
Ideal hosts arranged in trains or tribes.
So when the Nymph with volant finger rings
Her dulcet harp, and shakes the sounding strings;
As with soft voice she trills the enamour'd song,
Successive notes, unwill'd, the strain prolong; 90
The transient trains ASSOCIATION steers,
And sweet vibrations charm the astonish'd ears.

[Footnote: _Association steers_, l. 91. Association is an
exertion or change of some extreme part of the sensorium
residing in the muscles and organs of sense in consequence of
some antecedent or attendant fibrous contractions. Associate
ideas, therefore, are those which are preceded by other ideas
or muscular motions, without the intervention of irritation,
sensation, or volition between them; these are also termed
ideas of suggestion.]

"ON rapid feet o'er hills, and plains, and rocks,
Speed the scared leveret and rapacious fox;
On rapid pinions cleave the fields above
The hawk descending, and escaping dove;
With nicer nostril track the tainted ground
The hungry vulture, and the prowling hound;
Converge reflected light with nicer eye
The midnight owl, and microscopic fly; 100
With finer ear pursue their nightly course
The listening lion, and the alarmed horse.

"The branching forehead with diverging horns
Crests the bold bull, the jealous stag adorns;
Fierce rival boars with side-long fury wield
The pointed tusk, and guard with shoulder-shield;
Bounds the dread tiger o'er the affrighted heath
Arm'd with sharp talons, and resistless teeth;
The pouncing eagle bears in clinched claws
The struggling lamb, and rends with ivory jaws; 110
The tropic eel, electric in his ire,
Alarms the waves with unextinguish'd fire;
The fly of night illumes his airy way,
And seeks with lucid lamp his sleeping prey;
Fierce on his foe the poisoning serpent springs,
And insect armies dart their venom'd stings.

[Footnote: _The branching forehead_, l. 103. The
peculiarities of the shapes of animals which distinguish them
from each other, are enumerated in Zoonomia, Sect. XXXIX. 4.
8. on Generation, and are believed to have been gradually
formed from similar living fibres, and are varied by
reproduction. Many of these parts of animals are there shown
to have arisen from their three great desires of lust,
hunger, and security.]

[Footnote: _The tropic eel_, l. 111. Gymnotus electricus.]

[Footnote: _The fly of night_, l. 113. Lampyris noctiluca.
Fire-fly.]

"Proud Man alone in wailing weakness born,
No horns protect him, and no plumes adorn;
No finer powers of nostril, ear, or eye,
Teach the young Reasoner to pursue or fly.-- 120
Nerved with fine touch above the bestial throngs,
The hand, first gift of Heaven! to man belongs;
Untipt with claws the circling fingers close,
With rival points the bending thumbs oppose,
Trace the nice lines of Form with sense refined,
And clear ideas charm the thinking mind.
Whence the fine organs of the touch impart
Ideal figure, source of every art;
Time, motion, number, sunshine or the storm,
But mark varieties in Nature's _form_. 130

[Footnote: _The hand, first gift of Heaven_, l. 122. The
human species in some of their sensations are much inferior
to animals, yet the accuracy of the sense of touch, which
they possess in so eminent a degree, gives them a great
superiority of understanding; as is well observed by the
ingenious Mr. Buffon. The extremities of other animals
terminate in horns, and hoofs, and claws, very unfit for the
sensation of touch; whilst the human hand is finely adapted
to encompass its object with this organ of sense. Those
animals who have clavicles or collar-bones, and thence use
their forefeet like hands, as cats, squirrels, monkeys, are
more ingenious than other quadrupeds, except the elephant,
who has a fine sense at the extremity of his proboscis; and
many insects from the possessing finer organs of touch have
greater ingenuity, as spiders, bees, wasps.]

[Footnote: _Trace the nice lines of form_, l. 125. When the
idea of solidity is excited a part of the extensive organ of
touch is compressed by some external body, and this part of
the sensorium so compressed exactly resembles in figure the
figure of the body that compressed it. Hence when we acquire
the idea of solidity, we acquire at the same time the idea of
figure; and this idea of figure, or motion of a part of the
organ of touch, exactly resembles in its figure the figure of
the body that occasions it; and thus exactly acquaints us
with this property of the external world.

Now, as the whole universe with all its parts possesses a
certain form or figure, if any part of it moves, that form or
figure of the whole is varied. Hence, as motion is no other
than a perpetual variation of figure, our idea of motion is
also a real resemblance of the motion that produced it.

Hence arises the certainty of the mathematical sciences, as
they explain these properties of bodies, which are exactly
resembled by our ideas of them, whilst we are obliged to
collect almost all our other knowledge from experiment; that
is, by observing the effects exerted by one body upon
another.]

"Slow could the tangent organ wander o'er
The rock-built mountain, and the winding shore;
No apt ideas could the pigmy mite,
Or embryon emmet to the touch excite;
But as each mass the solar ray reflects,
The eye's clear glass the transient beams collects;
Bends to their focal point the rays that swerve,
And paints the living image on the nerve.
So in some village-barn, or festive hall
The spheric lens illumes the whiten'd wall; 140
O'er the bright field successive figures fleet,
And motley shadows dance along the sheet.--
Symbol of solid forms is colour'd light,
And the mute language of the touch is sight.

[Footnote: _The mute language of the touch_, l. 144. Our eyes
observe a difference of colour, or of shade, in the
prominences and depressions of objects, and that those shades
uniformly vary when the sense of touch observes any
variation. Hence when the retina becomes stimulated by
colours or shades of light in a certain form, as in a
circular spot, we know by experience that this is a sign that
a tangible body is before us; and that its figure is
resembled by the miniature figure of the part of the organ of
vision that is thus stimulated.

Here whilst the stimulated part of the retina resembles
exactly the visible figure of the whole in miniature, the
various kinds of stimuli from different colours mark the
visible figures of the minuter parts; and by habit we
instantly recall the tangible figures.

So that though our visible ideas resemble in miniature the
outline of the figure of coloured bodies, in other respects
they serve only as a language, which by acquired associations
introduce the tangible ideas of bodies. Hence it is, that
this sense is so readily deceived by the art of the painter
to our amusement and instruction. The reader will find much
very curious knowledge on this subject in Bishop Berkeley's
Essay on Vision, a work of great ingenuity.]

"HENCE in Life's portico starts young Surprise
With step retreating, and expanded eyes;
The virgin, Novelty, whose radiant train
Soars o'er the clouds, or sinks beneath the main,
With sweetly-mutable seductive charms
Thrills the young sense, the tender heart alarms. 150
Then Curiosity with tracing hands
And meeting lips the lines of form demands,
Buoy'd on light step, o'er ocean, earth, and sky,
Rolls the bright mirror of her restless eye.
While in wild groups tumultuous Passions stand,
And Lust and Hunger head the Motley band;
Then Love and Rage succeed, and Hope and Fear;
And nameless Vices close the gloomy rear;
Or young Philanthropy with voice divine
Convokes the adoring Youth to Virtue's shrine; 160
Who with raised eye and pointing finger leads
To truths celestial, and immortal deeds.

[Footnote: _Starts young Surprise_, l. 145. Surprise is
occasioned by the sudden interruption of the usual trains of
our ideas by any violent stimulus from external objects, as
from the unexpected discharge of a pistol, and hence does not
exist in our dreams, because our external senses are closed
or inirritable. The fetus in the womb must experience many
sensations, as of resistance, figure, fluidity, warmth,
motion, rest, exertion, taste; and must consequently possess
trains both of waking and sleeping ideas. Surprise must
therefore be strongly excited at its nativity, as those
trains of ideas must instantly be dissevered by the sudden
and violent sensations occasioned by the dry and cold
atmosphere, the hardness of external bodies, light, sound,
and odours; which are accompanied with pleasure or pain
according to their quantity or intensity.

As some of these sensations become familiar by repetition,
other objects not previously attended to present themselves,
and produce the idea of novelty, which is a less degree of
surprise, and like that is not perceived in our dreams,
though for another reason; because in sleep we possess no
voluntary power to compare our trains of ideas with our
previous knowledge of nature, and do not therefore perceive
their difference by intuitive analogy from what usually
occurs.

As the novelty of our ideas is generally attended with
pleasurable sensation, from this arises Curiosity, or a
desire of examining a variety of objects, hoping to find
novelty, and the pleasure consequent to this degree of
surprise; see Additional Note VII. 3.]

[Footnote: _And meeting lips_, l. 152. Young children put
small bodies into their mouths, when they are satiated with
food, as well as when they are hungry, not with design to
taste them, but use their lips as an organ of touch to
distinguish the shape of them. Puppies, whose toes are
terminated with nails, and who do not much use their forefeet
as hands, seem to have no other means of acquiring a
knowledge of the forms of external bodies, and are therefore
perpetually playing with things by taking them between their
lips.]

III. "As the pure language of the Sight commands
The clear ideas furnish'd by the hands;
Beauty's fine forms attract our wondering eyes,
And soft alarms the pausing heart surprise.
Warm from its cell the tender infant born
Feels the cold chill of Life's aerial morn;
Seeks with spread hands the bosoms velvet orbs,
With closing lips the milky fount absorbs; 170
And, as compress'd the dulcet streams distil,
Drinks warmth and fragrance from the living rill;
Eyes with mute rapture every waving line,
Prints with adoring kiss the Paphian shrine,
And learns erelong, the perfect form confess'd,
IDEAL BEAUTY from its Mother's breast.

[Footnote: _Seeks with spread hands_, l. 169. These eight
beautiful lines are copied from Mr. Bilsborrow's Address
prefixed to Zoonomia, and are translated from that work;
Sect. XVI. 6.]

[Footnote: _Ideal Beauty_, l. 176. Sentimental Love, as
distinguished from the animal passion of that name, with
which it is frequently accompanied, consists in the desire or
sensation of beholding, embracing, and saluting a beautiful
object.

The characteristic of beauty therefore is that it is the
object of love; and though many other objects are in common
language called beautiful, yet they are only called so
metaphorically, and ought to be termed agreeable. A Grecian
temple may give us the pleasurable idea of sublimity, a
Gothic temple may give us the pleasurable idea of variety,
and a modern house the pleasurable idea of utility; music and
poetry may inspire our love by association of ideas; but none
of these, except metaphorically, can be termed beautiful, as
we have no wish to embrace or salute them.

Our perception of beauty consists in our recognition by the
sense of vision of those objects, first, which have before
inspired our love by the pleasure, which they have afforded
to many of our senses; as to our sense of warmth, of touch,
of smell, of taste, hunger and thirst; and, secondly, which
bear any analogy of form to such objects.]

"Now on swift wheels descending like a star
Alights young EROS from his radiant car;
On angel-wings attendant Graces move,
And hail the God of SENTIMENTAL LOVE. 180
Earth at his feet extends her flowery bed,
And bends her silver blossoms round his head;
Dark clouds dissolve, the warring winds subside.
And smiling ocean calms his tossing tide,
O'er the bright morn meridian lustres play,
And Heaven salutes him with a flood of day.

[Footnote: _Alights young Eros_, l. 178. There were two
deities of Love belonging to the heathen mythology, the one
said to be celestial, and the other terrestrial. Aristophanes
says, "Sable-winged Night produced an egg, from which sprung
up like a blossom Eros, the lovely, the desirable, with his
glossy golden wings." See Botanic Garden, Canto I. l. 412.
Note. The other deity of Love, Cupido, seems of much later
date, as he is not mentioned in the works of Homer, where
there were so many apt situations to have introduced him.]

[Footnote: _Earth at his feet_, l. 181.

Te, Dea, te fugiunt venti, te nubila coeli,
Adventumque tuum; tibi suaves daedala tellus
Submittit flores; tibi rident aequora ponti;
Placatumque nitet diffuso lumine coelum.
LUCRET.]

"Warm as the sun-beam, pure as driven snows,
The enamour'd GOD for young DIONE glows;
Drops the still tear, with sweet attention sighs,
And woos the Goddess with adoring eyes; 190
Marks her white neck beneath the gauze's fold,
Her ivory shoulders, and her locks of gold;
Drinks with mute ecstacy the transient glow,
Which warms and tints her bosom's rising snow.
With holy kisses wanders o'er her charms,
And clasps the Beauty in Platonic arms;
Or if the dewy hands of Sleep, unbid,
O'er her blue eye-balls close the lovely lid,
Watches each nascent smile, and fleeting grace,
That plays in day-dreams o'er her blushing face; 200
Counts the fine mazes of the curls, that break
Round her fair ear, and shade her damask cheek;
Drinks the pure fragrance of her breath, and sips
With tenderest touch the roses of her lips;--
O'er female hearts with chaste seduction reigns,
And binds SOCIETY in silken chains.

IV. "IF the wide eye the wavy lawns explores,
The bending woodlands, or the winding shores,
Hills, whose green sides with soft protuberance rise,
Or the blue concave of the vaulted skies;-- 210
Or scans with nicer gaze the pearly swell
Of spiral volutes round the twisted shell;
Or undulating sweep, whose graceful turns
Bound the smooth surface of Etrurian urns,
When on fine forms the waving lines impress'd
Give the nice curves, which swell the female breast;
The countless joys the tender Mother pours
Round the soft cradle of our infant hours,
In lively trains of unextinct delight
Rise in our bosoms _recognized by sight_; 220
Fond Fancy's eye recalls the form divine,
And TASTE sits smiling upon Beauty's shrine.

[Footnote: _The wavy lawns_, l. 207. When the babe, soon
after it is born into this cold world, is applied to its
mother's bosom; its sense of perceiving warmth is first
agreeably affected; next its sense of smell is delighted with
the odour of her milk; then its taste is gratified by the
flavour of it; afterwards the appetites of hunger and of
thirst afford pleasure by the possession of their objects,
and by the subsequent digestion of the aliment; and lastly,
the sense of touch is delighted by the softness and
smoothness of the milky fountain, the source of such variety
of happiness.

All these various kinds of pleasure at length become
associated with the form of the mother's breast; which the
infant embraces with its hands, presses with its lips, and
watches with its eyes; and thus acquires more accurate ideas
of the form of its mother's bosom, than of the odour and
flavour or warmth, which it perceives by its other senses.
And hence at our maturer years, when any object of vision is
presented to us, which by its waving or spiral lines bears
any similitude to the form of the female bosom, whether it be
found in a landscape with soft gradations of rising and
descending surface, or in the forms of some antique vases, or
in other works of the pencil or the chisel, we feel a general
glow of delight, which seems to influence all our senses; and
if the object be not too large, we experience an attraction
to embrace it with our arms, and to salute it with our lips,
as we did in our early infancy the bosom of our mother. And
thus we find, according to the ingenious idea of Hogarth,
that the waving lines of beauty were originally taken from
the temple of Venus.]

"Where Egypt's pyramids gigantic stand,
And stretch their shadows o'er the shuddering sand;
Or where high rocks o'er ocean's dashing floods
Wave high in air their panoply of woods;
Admiring TASTE delights to stray beneath
With eye uplifted, and forgets to breathe;
Or, as aloft his daring footsteps climb,
Crests their high summits with his arm sublime. 230

[Footnote: _With his arm sublime_, l. 230. Objects of taste
have been generally divided into the beautiful, the sublime,
and the new; and lately to these have been added the
picturesque. The beautiful so well explained in Hogarth's
analysis of beauty, consists of curved lines and smooth
surfaces, as expressed in the preceding note; any object
larger than usual, as a very large temple or a very large
mountain, gives us the idea of sublimity; with which is often
confounded the terrific, and the melancholic: what is now
termed picturesque includes objects, which are principally
neither sublime nor beautiful, but which by their variety and
intricacy joined with a due degree of regularity or
uniformity convey to the mind an agreeable sentiment of
novelty. Many other agreeable sentiments may be excited by
visible objects, thus to the sublime and beautiful may be
added the terrific, tragic, melancholic, artless, &c. while
novelty superinduces a charm upon them all. See Additional
Note XIII.]

"Where mouldering columns mark the lingering wreck
Of Thebes, Palmyra, Babylon, Balbec;
The prostrate obelisk, or shatter'd dome,
Uprooted pedestal, and yawning tomb,
On loitering steps reflective TASTE surveys
With folded arms and sympathetic gaze;
Charm'd with poetic Melancholy treads
O'er ruin'd towns and desolated meads;
Or rides sublime on Time's expanded wings,
And views the fate of ever-changing things. 240

[Footnote: _Poetic melancholy treads_, l. 237. The pleasure
arising from the contemplation of the ruins of ancient
grandeur or of ancient happiness, and here termed poetic
melancholy, arises from a combination of the painful idea of
sorrow with the pleasurable idea of the grandeur or happiness
of past times; and becomes very interesting to us by fixing
our attention more strongly on that grandeur and happiness,
as the passion of Pity mentioned in the succeeding note is a
combination of the painful idea of sorrow with the
pleasurable one of beauty, or of virtue.]

"When Beauty's streaming eyes her woes express,
Or Virtue braves unmerited distress;
Love sighs in sympathy, with pain combined,
And new-born Pity charms the kindred mind;
The enamour'd Sorrow every cheek bedews,
And TASTE impassion'd woos the tragic Muse.

[Footnote: _The tragic Muse_, l. 246. Why we are delighted
with the scenical representations of Tragedy, which draw
tears from our eyes, has been variously explained by
different writers. The same distressful circumstance
attending an ugly or wicked person affects us with grief or
disgust; but when distress occurs to a beauteous or virtuous
person, the pleasurable idea of beauty or of virtue becomes
mixed with the painful one of sorrow and the passion of Pity
is produced, which is a combination of love or esteem with
sorrow; and becomes highly interesting to us by fixing our
attention more intensely on the beauteous or virtuous person.

Other distressful scenes have been supposed to give pleasure
to the spectator from exciting a comparative idea of his own
happiness, as when a shipwreck is viewed by a person safe on
shore, as mentioned by Lucretius, L. 3. But these dreadful
situations belong rather to the terrible, or the horrid, than
to the tragic; and may be objects of curiosity from their
novelty, but not of Taste, and must suggest much more pain
than pleasure.]

"The rush-thatch'd cottage on the purple moor,
Where ruddy children frolic round the door,
The moss-grown antlers of the aged oak,
The shaggy locks that fringe the colt unbroke, 250
The bearded goat with nimble eyes, that glare
Through the long tissue of his hoary hair;--
As with quick foot he climbs some ruin'd wall,
And crops the ivy, which prevents its fall;--
With rural charms the tranquil mind delight,
And form a picture to the admiring sight.
While TASTE with pleasure bends his eye surprised
In modern days at Nature unchastised.

[Footnote: _Nature unchastised_, l. 258. In cities or their
vicinity, and even in the cultivated parts of the country we
rarely see undisguised nature; the fields are ploughed, the
meadows mown, the shrubs planted in rows for hedges, the
trees deprived of their lower branches, and the animals, as
horses, dogs, and sheep, are mutilated in respect to their
tails or ears; such is the useful or ill-employed activity of
mankind! all which alterations add to the formality of the
soil, plants, trees, or animals; whence when natural objects
are occasionally presented to us, as an uncultivated forest
and its wild inhabitants, we are not only amused with greater
variety of form, but are at the same time enchanted by the
charm of novelty, which is a less degree of Surprise, already
spoken of in note on l. 145 of this Canto.]

"The GENIUS-FORM, on silver slippers born,
With fairer dew-drops gems the rising morn; 260
Sheds o'er meridian skies a softer light,
And decks with brighter pearls the brow of night;
With finer blush the vernal blossom glows,
With sweeter breath enamour'd Zephyr blows,
The limpid streams with gentler murmurs pass,
And gayer colours tinge the watery glass,
Charm'd round his steps along the enchanted groves
Flit the fine forms of Beauties, Graces, Loves.

V. "Alive, each moment of the transient hour,
When Rest accumulates sensorial power, 270
The impatient Senses, goaded to contract,
Forge new ideas, changing as they act;
And, in long streams dissever'd, or concrete
In countless tribes, the fleeting forms repeat.
Which rise excited in Volition's trains,
Or link the sparkling rings of Fancy's chains;
Or, as they flow from each translucent source,
Pursue Association's endless course.

[Footnote: _When rest accumulates_, l. 270. The accumulation
of the spirit of animation, when those parts of the system
rest, which are usually in motion, produces a disagreeable
sensation. Whence the pain of cold and of hunger, and the
irksomeness of a continued attitude, and of an indolent life:
and hence the propensity to action in those confined animals,
which have been accustomed to activity, as is seen in the
motions of a squirrel in a cage; which uses perpetual
exertion to exhaust a part of its accumulated sensorial
power. This is one source of our general propensity to
action; another perhaps arises from our curiosity or
expectation of novelty mentioned in the note on l. 145. of
this canto.

But the immediate cause of our propensity to imitation above
that of other animals arises from the greater facility, with
which by the sense of touch we acquire the ideas of the
outlines of objects, and afterwards in consequence by the
sense of sight; this seems to have been observed by
Aristotle, who calls man, "the imitative animal;" see
Zoonomia, Vol. I. Sect. XXII.]

"Hence when the inquiring hands with contact fine
Trace on hard forms the circumscribing line; 280
Which then the language of the rolling eyes
From distant scenes of earth and heaven supplies;
Those clear ideas of the touch and sight
Rouse the quick sense to anguish or delight;
Whence the fine power of IMITATION springs,
And apes the outlines of external things;
With ceaseless action to the world imparts
All moral virtues, languages, and arts.
First the charm'd Mind mechanic powers collects,
Means for some end, and causes of effects; 290
Then learns from other Minds their joys and fears,
Contagious smiles and sympathetic tears.

[Footnote: _All moral virtues_, l. 288. See the sequel of
this canto l. 453 on sympathy; and l. 331 on language; and
the subsequent lines on the arts of painting and
architecture.]

"What one fine stimulated Sense discerns,
Another Sense by IMITATION learns.--
So in the graceful dance the step sublime
Learns from the ear the concordance of Time.
So, when the pen of some young artist prints
Recumbent Nymphs in TITIAN'S living tints;
The glowing limb, fair cheek, and flowing hair,
Respiring bosom, and seductive air, 300
He justly copies with enamour'd sigh
From Beauty's image pictured on his eye.

[Footnote: _Another sense_, l. 294. As the part of the organs
of touch or of sight, which is stimulated into action by a
tangible or visible object, must resemble in figure at least
the figure of that object, as it thus constitutes an idea; it
may be said to imitate the figure of that object; and thus
imitation may be esteemed coeval with the existence both of
man and other animals: but this would confound perception
with imitation; which latter is better defined from the
actions of one sense copying those of another.]

"Thus when great ANGELO in wondering Rome
Fix'd the vast pillars of Saint Peter's dome,
Rear'd rocks on rocks sublime, and hung on high
A new Pantheon in the affrighted sky.
Each massy pier, now join'd and now aloof,
The figured architraves, and vaulted roof,
Ailes, whose broad curves gigantic ribs sustain,
Where holy echoes chant the adoring strain; 310
The central altar, sacred to the Lord,
Admired by Sages, and by Saints ador'd,
Whose brazen canopy ascends sublime
On spiral columns unafraid of Time,
Were first by Fancy in ethereal dyes
Plann'd on the rolling tablets of his eyes;
And his true hand with imitation fine
Traced from his Retina the grand design.

[Footnote: _Thus when great Angelo_, l. 303. The origin of
this propensity to imitation has not been deduced from any
known principle; when any action presents itself to the view
of a child, as of whetting a knife, or threading a needle;
the parts of this action in respect of time, motion, figure,
are imitated by parts of the retina of his eye; to perform
this action therefore with his hands is easier to him than to
invent any new action; because it consists in repeating with
another set of fibres, viz. with the moving muscles, what he
had just performed by some parts of the retina; just as in
dancing we transfer the times of the motions from the actions
of the auditory nerves to the muscles of the limbs. Imitation
therefore consists of repetition, which is the easiest kind
of animal action; as the ideas or motions become presently
associated together; which adds to the facility of their
production; as shown in Zoonomia, Vol. I. Sect. XXII. 2.

It should be added, that as our ideas, when we perceive
external objects, are believed to consist in the actions of
the immediate organs of sense in consequence of the stimulus
of those objects; so when we think of external objects, our
ideas are believed to consist in the repetitions of the
actions of the immediate organs of sense, excited by the
other sensorial powers of volition, sensation, or
association.]

"The Muse of MIMICRY in every age
With silent language charms the attentive stage; 320
The Monarch's stately step, and tragic pause,
The Hero bleeding in his country's cause,
O'er her fond child the dying Mother's tears,
The Lover's ardor, and the Virgin's fears;
The tittering Nymph, that tries her comic task,
Bounds on the scene, and peeps behind her mask,
The Punch and Harlequin, and graver throng,
That shake the theatre with dance and song,
With endless trains of Angers, Loves, and Mirths,
Owe to the Muse of Mimicry their births. 330

[Footnote: _The Muse of Mimicry_, l. 319. Much of the
pleasure received from the drawings of flowers finely
finished, or of portraits, is derived from their imitation or
resemblance of the objects or persons which they represent.
The same occurs in the pleasure we receive from mimicry on
the stage; we are surprised at the accuracy of its enacted
resemblance. Some part of the pleasure received from
architecture, as when we contemplate the internal structure
of gothic temples, as of King's College chapel in Cambridge,
or of Lincoln Cathedral, may arise also from their imitation
or resemblance of those superb avenues of large trees, which
were formerly appropriated to religious ceremonies.]

"Hence to clear images of form belong
The sculptor's statue, and the poet's song,
The painter's landscape, and the builder's plan,
And IMITATION marks the mind of Man.

[Footnote: _Imitation marks_, l. 334. Many other curious
instances of one part of the animal system imitating another
part of it, as in some contagious diseases; and also of some
animals imitating each other, are given in Zoonomia, Vol. I.
Sect. XXII. 3. To which may be added, that this propensity to
imitation not only appears in the actions of children, but in
all the customs and fashions of the world; many thousands
tread in the beaten paths of others, who precede or accompany
them, for one who traverses regions of his own discovery.]

VI. "WHEN strong desires or soft sensations move
The astonish'd Intellect to rage or love;
Associate tribes of fibrous motions rise,
Flush the red cheek, or light the laughing eyes.
Whence ever-active Imitation finds
The ideal trains, that pass in kindred minds; 340
Her mimic arts associate thoughts excite
And the first LANGUAGE enters at the sight.

[Footnote: _And the first Language_, l. 342. There are two
ways by which we become acquainted with the passions of
others: first, by having observed the effects of them, as of
fear or anger, on our own bodies, we know at sight when
others are under the influence of these affections. So
children long before they can speak, or understand the
language of their parents, may be frightened by an angry
countenance, or soothed by smiles and blandishments.

Secondly, when we put ourselves into the attitude that any
passion naturally occasions, we soon in some degree acquire
that passion; hence when those that scold indulge themselves
in loud oaths and violent actions of the arms, they increase
their anger by the mode of expressing themselves; and, on the
contrary, the counterfeited smile of pleasure in disagreeable
company soon brings along with it a portion of the reality,
as is well illustrated by Mr. Burke. (Essay on the Sublime
and Beautiful.)

These are natural signs by which we understand each other,
and on this slender basis is built all human language. For
without some natural signs no artificial ones could have been
invented or understood, as is very ingeniously observed by
Dr. Reid. (Inquiry into the Human Mind.)]

"Thus jealous quails or village-cocks inspect
Each other's necks with stiffen'd plumes erect;
Smit with the wordless eloquence, they know
The rival passion of the threatening foe.
So when the famish'd wolves at midnight howl,
Fell serpents hiss, or fierce hyenas growl;
Indignant Lions rear their bristling mail,
And lash their sides with undulating tail. 350
Or when the Savage-Man with clenched fist
Parades, the scowling champion of the list;
With brandish'd arms, and eyes that roll to know
Where first to fix the meditated blow;
Association's mystic power combines
Internal passions with external signs.

"From these dumb gestures first the exchange began
Of viewless thought in bird, and beast, and man;
And still the stage by mimic art displays
Historic pantomime in modern days; 360
And hence the enthusiast orator affords
Force to the feebler eloquence of words.

"Thus the first LANGUAGE, when we frown'd or smiled,
Rose from the cradle, Imitation's child;
Next to each thought associate sound accords,
And forms the dulcet symphony of words;
The tongue, the lips articulate; the throat
With soft vibration modulates the note;
Love, pity, war, the shout, the song, the prayer
Form quick concussions of elastic air. 370

"Hence the first accents bear in airy rings
The vocal symbols of ideal things,
Name each nice change appulsive powers supply
To the quick sense of touch, or ear or eye.
Or in fine traits abstracted forms suggest
Of Beauty, Wisdom, Number, Motion, Rest;
Or, as within reflex ideas move,
Trace the light steps of Reason, Rage, or Love.
The next new sounds adjunctive thoughts recite,
As hard, odorous, tuneful, sweet, or white. 380
The next the fleeting images select
Of action, suffering, causes and effect;
Or mark existence, with the march sublime
O'er earth and ocean of recording TIME.

[Footnote: _Hence the first accents_, l. 371. Words were
originally the signs or names of individual ideas; but in all
known languages many of them by changing their terminations
express more than one idea, as in the cases of nouns, and the
moods and tenses of verbs. Thus a whip suggests a single idea
of that instrument; but "to whip," suggests an idea of
action, joined with that of the instrument, and is then
called a verb; and "to be whipped," suggests an idea of being
acted upon or suffering. Thus in most languages two ideas are
suggested by one word by changing its termination; as amor,
love; amare, to love; amari, to be loved.

Nouns are the names of the ideas of things, first as they are
received by the stimulus of objects, or as they are
afterwards repeated; secondly, they are names of more
abstracted ideas, which do not suggest at the same time the
external objects, by which they were originally excited; or
thirdly, of the operations of our minds, which are termed
reflex ideas by metaphysical writers; or lastly, they are the
names of our ideas of parts or properties of objects; and are
termed by grammarians nouns adjective.

Verbs are also in reality names of our ideas of things, or
nouns, with the addition of another idea to them, as of
acting or suffering; or of more than one other annexed idea,
as of time, and also of existence. These with the numerous
abbreviations, so well illustrated by Mr. Horne Tooke in his
Diversions of Purley, make up the general theory of language,
which consists of the symbols of ideas represented by vocal
or written words; or by parts of those words, as their
terminations; or by their disposition in respect to their
order or succession; as further explained in Additional Note
XIV.]

"The GIANT FORM on Nature's centre stands,
And waves in ether his unnumber'd hands;
Whirls the bright planets in their silver spheres,
And the vast sun round other systems steers;
Till the last trump amid the thunder's roar
Sound the dread Sentence "TIME SHALL BE NO MORE!"

"Last steps Abbreviation, bold and strong, 391
And leads the volant trains of words along;
With sweet loquacity to HERMES springs,
And decks his forehead and his feet with wings.

VII. "As the soft lips and pliant tongue are taught
With other minds to interchange the thought;
And sound, the symbol of the sense, explains
In parted links the long ideal trains;
From clear conceptions of external things
The facile power of Recollection springs. 400

[Footnote: _In parted links_, l. 398. As our ideas consist of
successive trains of the motions, or changes of figure, of
the extremities of the nerves of one or more of our senses,
as of the optic or auditory nerves; these successive trains
of motion, or configuration, are in common life divided into
many links, to each of which a word or name is given, and it
is called an idea. This chain of ideas may be broken into
more or fewer links, or divided in different parts of it, by
the customs of different people. Whence the meanings of the
words of one language cannot always be exactly expressed by
those of another; and hence the acquirement of different
languages in their infancy may affect the modes of thinking
and reasoning of whole nations, or of different classes of
society; as the words of them do not accurately suggest the
same ideas, or parts of ideal trains; a circumstance which
has not been sufficiently analysed.]

"Whence REASON'S empire o'er the world presides,
And man from brute, and man from man divides;
Compares and measures by imagined lines
Ellipses, circles, tangents, angles, sines;
Repeats with nice libration, and decrees
In what each differs, and in what agrees;
With quick Volitions unfatigued selects
Means for some end, and causes of effects;
All human science worth the name imparts,
And builds on Nature's base the works of Arts. 410

[Footnote: _Whence Reason's empire_, l. 401. The facility of
the use of the voluntary power, which is owing to the
possession of the clear ideas acquired by our superior sense
of touch, and afterwards of vision, distinguishes man from
brutes, and has given him the empire of the world, with the
power of improving nature by the exertions of art.

Reasoning is that operation of the sensorium by which we
excite two or many tribes of ideas, and then reexcite the
ideas in which they differ or correspond. If we determine
this difference, it is called judgment; if we in vain
endeavour to determine it, it is called doubting.

If we reexcite the ideas in which they differ, it is called
distinguishing. If we reexcite those in which they
correspond, it is called comparing.]

"The Wasp, fine architect, surrounds his domes
With paper-foliage, and suspends his combs;
Secured from frost the Bee industrious dwells,
And fills for winter all her waxen cells;
The cunning Spider with adhesive line
Weaves his firm net immeasurably fine;
The Wren, when embryon eggs her cares engross,
Seeks the soft down, and lines the cradling moss;
Conscious of change the Silkworm-Nymphs begin
Attach'd to leaves their gluten-threads to spin; 420
Then round and round they weave with circling heads
Sphere within Sphere, and form their silken beds.
--Say, did these fine volitions first commence
From clear ideas of the tangent sense;
From sires to sons by imitation caught,
Or in dumb language by tradition taught?
Or did they rise in some primeval site
Of larva-gnat, or microscopic mite;
And with instructive foresight still await
On each vicissitude of insect-state?-- 430
Wise to the present, nor to future blind,
They link the reasoning reptile to mankind!
--Stoop, selfish Pride! survey thy kindred forms,
Thy brother Emmets, and thy sister Worms!

[Footnote: _The Wasp, fine architect_, l. 411. Those animals
which possess a better sense of touch are, in general, more
ingenious than others. Those which have claviculae, or
collar-bones, and thence use the forefeet as hands, as the
monkey, squirrel, rat, are more ingenious in seizing their
prey or escaping from danger. And the ingenuity of the
elephant appears to arise from the sense of touch at the
extremity of his proboscis, which has a prominence on one
side of its cavity like a thumb to close against the other
side of it, by which I have seen him readily pick up a
shilling which was thrown amongst the straw he stood upon.
Hence the excellence of the sense of touch in many insects
seems to have given them wonderful ingenuity so as to equal
or even excel mankind in some of their arts and discoveries;
many of which may have been acquired in situations previous
to their present ones, as the great globe itself, and all
that it inhabit, appear to be in a perpetual state of
mutation and improvement; see Additional Note IX.]

"Thy potent acts, VOLITION, still attend
The means of pleasure to secure the end;
To express his wishes and his wants design'd
Language, the _means_, distinguishes Mankind;
For _future_ works in Art's ingenious schools
His hands unwearied form and finish tools; 440
He toils for money _future_ bliss to share,
And shouts to Heaven his mercenary prayer.
Sweet Hope delights him, frowning Fear alarms,
And Vice and Virtue court him to their arms.

[Footnote: _Thy potent acts, Volition_, l. 435. It was before
observed, how much the superior accuracy of our sense of
touch contributes to increase our knowledge; but it is the
greater energy and activity of the power of volition, that
marks mankind, and has given them the empire of the world.

There is a criterion by which we may distinguish our
voluntary acts or thoughts from those that are excited by our
sensations: "The former are always employed about the means
to acquire pleasurable objects, or to avoid painful ones;
while the latter are employed about the possession of those
that are already in our power."

The ideas and actions of brutes, like those of children, are
almost perpetually produced by their present pleasures or
their present pains; and they seldom busy themselves about
the _means_ of procuring future bliss, or of avoiding future
misery.

Whilst the acquiring of languages, the making of tools, and
the labouring for money, which are all only the _means_ of
procuring pleasure; and the praying to the Deity, as another
means to procure happiness, are characteristic of human
nature.]

"Unenvied eminence, in Nature's plan
Rise the reflective faculties of Man!
Labour to Rest the thinking Few prefer!
Know but to mourn! and reason but to err!--
In Eden's groves, the cradle of the world,
Bloom'd a fair tree with mystic flowers unfurl'd; 450
On bending branches, as aloft it sprung,
Forbid to taste, the fruit of KNOWLEDGE hung;
Flow'd with sweet Innocence the tranquil hours,
And Love and Beauty warm'd the blissful bowers.
Till our deluded Parents pluck'd, erelong,
The tempting fruit, and gather'd Right and Wrong;
Whence Good and Evil, as in trains they pass,
Reflection imaged on her polish'd glass;
And Conscience felt, for blood by Hunger spilt,
The pains of shame, of sympathy, and guilt! 460

[Footnote: _And gather'd Right and Wrong_, l. 456. Some
philosophers have believed that the acquisition of knowledge
diminishes the happiness of the possessor; an opinion which
seems to have been inculcated by the history of our first
parents, who are said to have become miserable from eating of
the tree of knowledge. But as the foresight and the power of
mankind are much increased by their voluntary exertions in
the acquirement of knowledge, they may undoubtedly avoid many
sources of evil, and procure many sources of good; and yet
possess the pleasures of sense, or of imagination, as
extensively as the brute or the savage.]

VIII. "LAST, as observant Imitation stands,
Turns her quick glance, and brandishes her hands,
With mimic acts associate thoughts excites,
And storms the soul with sorrows or delights;
Life's shadowy scenes are brighten'd and refin'd,
And soft emotions mark the feeling mind.

[Footnote: _And soft emotions_, l. 466. From our aptitude to
imitation arises what is generally understood by the word
sympathy, so well explained by Dr. Smith of Glasgow. Thus the
appearance of a cheerful countenance gives us pleasure, and
of a melancholy one makes us sorrowful. Yawning, and
sometimes vomiting, are thus propagated by sympathy; and some
people of delicate fibres, at the presence of a spectacle of
misery, have felt pain in the same parts of their bodies,
that were diseased or mangled in the object they saw.

The effect of this powerful agent in the moral world, is the
foundation of all our intellectual sympathies with the pains
and pleasures of others, and is in consequence the source of
all our virtues. For in what consists our sympathy with the
miseries or with the joys of our fellow creatures, but in an
involuntary excitation of ideas in some measure similar or
imitative of those which we believe to exist in the minds of
the persons whom we commiserate or congratulate!]

"The Seraph, SYMPATHY, from Heaven descends,
And bright o'er earth his beamy forehead bends;
On Man's cold heart celestial ardor flings,
And showers affection from his sparkling wings; 470
Rolls o'er the world his mild benignant eye,
Hears the lone murmur, drinks the whisper'd sigh;
Lifts the closed latch of pale Misfortune's door,
Opes the clench'd hand of Avarice to the poor,
Unbars the prison, liberates the slave,
Sheds his soft sorrows o'er the untimely grave,
Points with uplifted hand to realms above,
And charms the world with universal love.

"O'er the thrill'd frame his words assuasive steal,
And teach the selfish heart what others feel; 480
With sacred truth each erring thought control,
Bind sex to sex, and mingle soul with soul;
From heaven, He cried, descends the moral plan,
And gives Society to savage man.

"High on yon scroll, inscribed o'er Nature's shrine,
Live in bright characters the words divine.
"IN LIFE'S DISASTROUS SCENES TO OTHERS DO,
WHAT YOU WOULD WISH BY OTHERS DONE TO YOU."
--Winds! wide o'er earth the sacred law convey,
Ye Nations, hear it! and ye Kings, obey! 490

[Footnote: _High on yon scroll_, l. 485. The famous sentence
of Socrates "Know thyself," so celebrated by writers of
antiquity, and said by them to have descended from Heaven,
however wise it may be, seems to be rather of a selfish
nature; and the author of it might have added "Know also
other people." But the sacred maxims of the author of
Christianity, "Do as you would be done by," and "Love your
neighbour as yourself," include all our duties of benevolence
and morality; and, if sincerely obeyed by all nations, would
a thousandfold multiply the present happiness of mankind.]

"Unbreathing wonder hush'd the adoring throng,
Froze the broad eye, and chain'd the silent tongue;
Mute was the wail of Want, and Misery's cry,
And grateful Pity wiped her lucid eye;
Peace with sweet voice the Seraph-form address'd,
And Virtue clasp'd him to her throbbing breast."

END OF CANTO III.

ORIGIN OF SOCIETY.