Part 7 (2/2)

It seems, to me, scarcely possible to find sophistry more worthless than this, or rather a more contemptible quibble; for that which, availing himself of our technicalities about light, he calls angularity, sharpness, &c., has no a.n.a.logy with disagreeable angularity of form. To produce the brilliance and splendor which he calls angular, and describes as so _offensive_, we polish crystalline and metallic bodies in the highest degree!--we value precisely those which thus admit of greatest splendor!--and, on that very account, the diamond (rightly or wrongly, is not the question) is deemed the most valuable object on earth!

So much for those elements of beauty, in inanimate things, which fall under the cognizance of our fundamental sense, or that of touch.

As to sight and its objects, it is true that, as this organ varies in different persons, their taste is modified, with regard to colors. But the preference of light and delicate colors to dark and glaring ones, is almost universal among persons of sensibility.

Alison, indeed, ascribes the effects of all colors to a.s.sociation.

”White,” he says, ”as it is the color of day, is expressive to us of the cheerfulness or gayety which the return of day brings: black, as the color of darkness [night], is expressive of gloom and melancholy.” And he adds: ”Whether some colors may not of themselves produce agreeable sensations, and others disagreeable sensations, I am not anxious to dispute.” But this is the very point into which Alison ought to have inquired. Nature does nothing without foundation in the simplest principles; and this foundation is not only anterior to, but is the cause of all a.s.sociation.

That, independent of any a.s.sociation, blackness is naturally disagreeable, if not painful, is happily determined by the case of the boy restored to sight by Cheselden, who tells us that the first time the boy saw a black object, it gave him great uneasiness; and that, some time after, upon accidentally seeing a negro-woman, he was struck with great horror at the sight. This appears to be perfectly conclusive.

Knight indeed says: ”As to the uneasiness which the boy, couched by Cheselden, felt at the first sight of a black object, it arose either from the harshness of its outline, or from its appearing to act as a partial extinguisher applied to his eyes, which, as every object that he saw, seemed to touch them, would, of course, be its effect.” It is highly probable that black operates in both these ways; and it has therefore natural effects, independent of all a.s.sociation.

As to sounds, Alison observes, that the cries of some animals are sublime, as the roar of the lion, the scream of the eagle, &c.; and he thinks they become so, because we a.s.sociate them with the strength and ferocity of the animals which utter them. By opposite a.s.sociations, he accounts for the beauty of the notes of birds. And he says, that there is a similar sublimity or beauty, in the tones of the human voice, and that ”such sounds are a.s.sociated, in our imaginations, with the qualities of mind of which they are in general expressive, and naturally produce in us the conception of these qualities.”

This writer endeavors to establish his views on this subject, by observing, that ”grandeur or sublimity of sound, can no otherwise arise from its loudness, than as that loudness excites an idea of power in the sonorous object, or in some other a.s.sociated with it in the mind: for a child's drum, close to the ear, fills it with more real noise, than the discharge of a cannon a mile off; and the rattling of a carriage in the street, when faintly and indistinctly heard, has often been mistaken for thunder at a distance. Yet no one ever imagined the beating of a child's drum, or the rattling of a carriage over the stones, to be grand or sublime; which, nevertheless, they must be, if grandeur or sublimity belong at all to the sensation of loudness. But artillery and lightning are powerful engines of destruction; and with their power we sympathize, whenever the sound of them excites any sentiments of sublimity.”

Now, all this is directly opposed to the doctrine it is meant to support.

It distinctly implies that loudness is so natural and so frequent a result of the violent contact of bodies, that we sometimes mistakenly ascribe power to objects, of which we have not correctly distinguished the sounds, owing to imitation, distance, &c. The occasional mistake implies the general truth.

Alison, himself, notwithstanding his doctrine of a.s.sociation, is accordingly led to observe, that ”there are some philosophers who consider these as the natural signs of pa.s.sion or affection, and who believe that it is not from experience, but by means of an original faculty, that we interpret them: and this opinion is supported by great authorities.”

He adds the following observations, which, notwithstanding the error they involve, are too much to the purpose to be omitted here, and which in reality ill.u.s.trate a natural and true theory, better than they do his own:--

”It is natural, however, to suppose, that in this, as in every case, our experience should gradually lead to the formation of some general rules, with regard to this expression.

”The great divisions of sound are into loud and low, grave and acute, long and short, increasing and diminis.h.i.+ng. The two first divisions are expressive in themselves: the two last, only in conjunction with others.

”Loud sound is connected with ideas of power and danger. Many objects in nature which have such qualities, are distinguished by such sounds; and this a.s.sociation is farther confirmed from the human voice, in which all violent and impetuous pa.s.sions are expressed in loud tones.

”Low sound has a contrary expression, and is connected with ideas of weakness, gentleness, and delicacy. This a.s.sociation takes its rise, not only from the observation of inanimate nature, or of animals, where, in a great number of cases, such sounds distinguish objects with such qualities, but particularly from the human voice, where all gentle, or delicate, or sorrowful affections are expressed by such tones.

”Grave sound is connected with ideas of moderation, dignity, solemnity, &c., princ.i.p.ally, I believe, from all moderate, or restrained, or chastened affections being distinguished by such tones in the human voice.

”Acute sound is expressive of pain, or fear, or surprise, &c., and generally operates by producing some degree of astonishment. This a.s.sociation, also, seems princ.i.p.ally to arise from our experience of such connexions in the human voice.

”Long or lengthened sound seems to me to have no expression in itself, but only to signify the continuance of that quality which is signified by other qualities of sound. A loud or a low, a grave or an acute sound prolonged expresses to us no more than the continuance of the quality which is generally signified by such sounds.

”Short or abrupt sound has a contrary expression, and signifies the sudden cessation of the quality thus expressed.

”Increasing sound signifies, in the same manner, the increase of the quality expressed.

”Decreasing sound signifies the gradual diminution of such qualities.

”Motion furnishes another sort of beauty.

”Figure, color, and motion, readily blend in one object, and one general perception of beauty. In many beautiful objects they all unite, and render the beauty greater.”

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