t but little. It is thus
with the vulgar; and all men are as the vulgar in what they do not
understand. The ideas of eternity, and infinity, are among the most
affecting we have: and yet perhaps there is nothing of which we really
understand so little, as of infinity and eternity. We do not anywhere
meet a more sublime description than this justly-celebrated one of
Milton, wherein he gives the portrait of Satan with a dignity so
suitable to the subject:

"He above the rest
In shape and gesture proudly eminent
Stood like a tower; his form had yet not lost
All her original brightness, nor appeared
Less than archangel ruined, and th' excess
Of glory obscured: as when the sun new risen
Looks through the horizontal misty air
Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon
In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations; and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs."

Here is a very noble picture; and in what does this poetical picture
consist? In images of a tower, an archangel, the sun rising through
mists, or in an eclipse, the ruin of monarchs and the revolutions of
kingdoms. The mind is hurried out of itself, by a crowd of great and
confused images; which affect because they are crowded and confused. For
separate them, and you lose much of the greatness; and join them, and
you infallibly lose the clearness. The images raised by poetry are
always of this obscure kind; though in general the effects of poetry are
by no means to be attributed to the images it raises; which point we
shall examine more at large hereafter.[14] But painting, when we have
allowed for the pleasure of imitation, can only affect simply by the
images it presents; and even in painting, a judicious obscurity in some
things contributes to the effect of the picture; because the images in
painting are exactly similar to those in nature; and in nature, dark,
confused, uncertain images have a greater power on the fancy to form the
grander passions, than those have which are more clear and determinate.
But where and when this observation may be applied to practice, and how
far it shall be extended, will be better deduced from the nature of the
subject, and from the occasion, than from any rules that can be given.

I am sensible that this idea has met with opposition, and is likely
still to be rejected by several. But let it be considered that hardly
anything can strike the mind with its great