ause of grandeur, as
it excludes the idea of art and contrivance; for dexterity produces
another sort of effect, which is different enough from this.

SECTION XIII.

MAGNIFICENCE.

Magnificence is likewise a source of the sublime. A great profusion of
things, which are splendid or valuable in themselves, is _magnificent_.
The starry heaven, though it occurs so very frequently to our view never
fails to excite an idea of grandeur. This cannot be owing to the stars
themselves, separately considered. The number is certainly the cause.
The apparent disorder augments the grandeur, for the appearance of care
is highly contrary to our ideas of magnificence. Besides, the stars lie
in such apparent confusion, as makes it impossible on ordinary occasions
to reckon them. This gives them the advantage of a sort of infinity. In
works of art, this kind of grandeur which consists in multitude, is to
be very cautiously admitted; because a profusion of excellent things is
not to be attained, or with too much difficulty; and because in many
cases this splendid confusion would destroy all use, which should be
attended to in most of the works of art with the greatest care; besides,
it is to be considered, that unless you can produce an appearance of
infinity by your disorder, you will have disorder only without
magnificence. There are, however, a sort of fireworks, and some other
things, that in this way succeed well, and are truly grand. There are
also many descriptions in the poets and orators, which owe their
sublimity to a richness and profusion of images, in which the mind is so
dazzled as to make it impossible to attend to that exact coherence and
agreement of the allusions, which we should require on every other
occasion. I do not now remember a more striking example of this, than
the description which is given of the king's army in the play of Henry
IV.:--

"All furnished, all in arms,
All plumed like ostriches that with the wind
Baited like eagles having lately bathed:
As full of spirit us the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun in midsummer,
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry with his beaver on
Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury;
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropped down from the clouds
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus."

In that excellent book, so remarkable for the vivacity of its
descriptions