s in
Toby Shandy alone that humour reaches that supreme level which it is
only capable of attaining when the collision of contrasted qualities
in a human character produces a corresponding conflict of the emotions
of mirth and tenderness in the minds of those who contemplate it.

This, however, belongs more rightfully to the consideration of the
creative and dramatic element in Sterne's genius; and an earlier place
in the analysis is claimed by that power over the emotion of pity upon
which Sterne, beyond question, prided himself more highly than upon
any other of his gifts. He preferred, we can plainly see, to think of
himself, not as the great humourist, but as the great sentimentalist;
and though the word "sentiment" had something even in _his_ day of the
depreciatory meaning which distinguishes it nowadays from "pathos,"
there can be little doubt that the thing appeared to Sterne to be, on
the whole, and both in life and literature, rather admirable than the
reverse.

What, then, were his notions of true "sentiment" in literature?
We have seen elsewhere that he repeats--it would appear
unconsciously--and commends the canon which Horace propounds to the
tragic poet in the words:

"Si vis me flere, dolendum
Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent."

And that canon is sound enough, no doubt, in the sense in which it was
meant, and in its relation to the person to whom it was addressed. A
tragic drama, peopled with heroes who set forth their woes in frigid
and unimpassioned verse, will unquestionably leave its audience as
cold as itself. Nor is this true of drama alone. All _poetry_, indeed,
whether dramatic or other, presupposes a sympathetic unity of emotion
between the poet and those whom he addresses; and to this extent it
is obviously true that _he_ must feel before they can. Horace, who was
(what every literary critic is not) a man of the world and an observer
of human nature, did not, of course, mean that this capacity for
feeling was all, or even the chief part, of the poetic faculty. He
must have seen many an "intense" young Roman make that pathetic
error of the young in all countries and of all periods--the error of
mistaking the capacity of emotion for the gift of expression. He did,
however, undoubtedly mean that a poet's power of affecting others
presupposes passion in himself; and, as regards the poet, he was
right. But his criticism takes no account whatever of one form of
appeal to the