{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\uc1 \deff0\deflang1033\deflangfe1033{\fonttbl{\f0\froman\fcharset0\fprq2{\*\panose 02020603050405020304}Times New Roman;}{\f1\fswiss\fcharset0\fprq2{\*\panose 020b0604020202020204}Arial;}
{\f17\froman\fcharset0\fprq0{\*\panose 00000000000000000000}Xerox Serif Narrow;}{\f172\froman\fcharset238\fprq2 Times New Roman CE;}{\f173\froman\fcharset204\fprq2 Times New Roman Cyr;}{\f175\froman\fcharset161\fprq2 Times New Roman Greek;}
{\f176\froman\fcharset162\fprq2 Times New Roman Tur;}{\f177\froman\fcharset186\fprq2 Times New Roman Baltic;}{\f178\fswiss\fcharset238\fprq2 Arial CE;}{\f179\fswiss\fcharset204\fprq2 Arial Cyr;}{\f181\fswiss\fcharset161\fprq2 Arial Greek;}
{\f182\fswiss\fcharset162\fprq2 Arial Tur;}{\f183\fswiss\fcharset186\fprq2 Arial Baltic;}}{\colortbl;\red0\green0\blue0;\red0\green0\blue255;\red0\green255\blue255;\red0\green255\blue0;\red255\green0\blue255;\red255\green0\blue0;\red255\green255\blue0;
\red255\green255\blue255;\red0\green0\blue128;\red0\green128\blue128;\red0\green128\blue0;\red128\green0\blue128;\red128\green0\blue0;\red128\green128\blue0;\red128\green128\blue128;\red192\green192\blue192;}{\stylesheet{\widctlpar\adjustright 
\fs20\cgrid \snext0 Normal;}{\*\cs10 \additive Default Paragraph Font;}{\s15\qj\li192\sl240\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1632\adjustright \sbasedon0 \snext15 TxBr_p1;}{\s16\qj\li198\sl243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1638\adjustright \sbasedon0 \snext16 TxBr_p2;}{
\s17\qj\li476\sl240\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1916\adjustright \sbasedon0 \snext17 TxBr_p4;}{\s18\qj\fi193\li1638\sl243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1638\tx1831\adjustright \sbasedon0 \snext18 TxBr_p5;}{\s19\qj\fi-193\li1825\sl240\slmult0\nowidctlpar
\tx1632\tx1825\adjustright \sbasedon0 \snext19 TxBr_p6;}{\s20\li391\sl430\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1831\adjustright \sbasedon0 \snext20 TxBr_p7;}{\s21\widctlpar\adjustright \fs20\cgrid \sbasedon0 \snext21 footnote text;}{\*\cs22 \additive \super \sbasedon10 
footnote reference;}{\*\cs23 \additive \fs16 \sbasedon10 annotation reference;}{\s24\widctlpar\adjustright \fs20\cgrid \sbasedon0 \snext24 annotation text;}}{\info{\author Leroy F. Searle}{\operator Leroy F. Searle}{\creatim\yr2000\mo4\dy23\hr23\min10}
{\revtim\yr2000\mo4\dy24\min14}{\version4}{\edmins48}{\nofpages6}{\nofwords2717}{\nofchars15488}{\*\company University of Washington}{\nofcharsws0}{\vern89}}\margl1440\margr1440 \widowctrl\ftnbj\aenddoc\ftnnchi\hyphcaps0\viewkind4\viewscale100 \fet0
\sectd \sbknone\linex0\headery1440\sectdefaultcl {\*\pnseclvl1\pnucrm\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxta .}}{\*\pnseclvl2\pnucltr\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxta .}}{\*\pnseclvl3\pndec\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxta .}}{\*\pnseclvl4
\pnlcltr\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxta )}}{\*\pnseclvl5\pndec\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxtb (}{\pntxta )}}{\*\pnseclvl6\pnlcltr\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxtb (}{\pntxta )}}{\*\pnseclvl7\pnlcrm\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxtb (}
{\pntxta )}}{\*\pnseclvl8\pnlcltr\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxtb (}{\pntxta )}}{\*\pnseclvl9\pnlcrm\pnstart1\pnindent720\pnhang{\pntxtb (}{\pntxta )}}\pard\plain \nowidctlpar\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\b\cgrid0 MODERN PAINTERS
\par 
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tqdec\tx5278\adjustright {\i\fs28\cgrid0 Of the Pathetic Fallacy
\par 
\par }{\fs24\cgrid0 From: }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 The Genius of John Ruskin }{\fs24\cgrid0  ed. by John D. Rosenberg (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1979), pp. 61-72
\par }{\i\fs28\cgrid0 \tab }{\b\f1\cgrid0 61
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\cgrid0 
\par }{\fs24\cgrid0 German dulness, and English affectation, have of late much multiplied among us the use of two of the most objection-
\par }\pard \qj\sl-255\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx0\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 62 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx0\tx1746\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 able words that were ever coined by the troublesomeness of metaphysicians,\emdash namely, \ldblquote Objective,\rdblquote  and \ldblquote Subjective.\rdblquote 
\par }\pard \qj\fi180\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx0\tx1746\tx1921\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 No words can be more exquisitely, and in all points, useless; and I merely speak of them that I may, at once and for ever, get them out of my way, and out of my reader
\rquote s. But to get that done, they must be explained.
\par The word \ldblquote Blue,\rdblquote  say certain philosophers, means the sensation of colour which the human eye receives in looking at the open sky, or at a bell gentian.
\par Now, say they farther, a
s this sensation can only be felt when the eye is turned to the object, and as, therefore, no such sensation is produced by the object when nobody looks at it, therefore the thing, when it is not looked at, is not blue; and thus (say they) there are many 
qualities of things which depend as much on something else as on themselves. To be sweet, a thing must have a taster; it is only sweet while it}{\b\fs24\cgrid0  }{\fs24\cgrid0 
is being tasted, and if the tongue had not the capacity of taste, then the sugar would not have the quality of sweetness.
\par And then they agree that the qualities of things which thus depend upon our perception of them, and upon our human nature as affected by them, shall be called Subjec\-tive; and the qualities of things which they always have, irrespective of any oth
er nature, as roundness or squareness, shall be called Objective.
\par From these ingenious views the step is very easy to a farther opinion, that it does not much matter what things are in themselves, but only what they are to us; and that the only real truth 
of them is their appearance to, or effect upon, us. From which position, with a hearty desire for mystification, and much egotism, selfishness, shallowness, and impertinence, a philosopher may easily go so far as to believe, and say, that everything in th
e world depends upon his seeing or thinking of it, and that nothing, therefore, exists, but what he sees or thinks of.
\par Now, to get rid of all these ambiguities and troublesome words at once, be it observed that the word \ldblquote Blue\rdblquote  does
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx1587\tx1746\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx2415\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 63
\par 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx351\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 not }{\fs24\cgrid0 mean the }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 sensation }{\fs24\cgrid0 caused by a gentian on the human eye; but it means the }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 power }{\fs24\cgrid0 
of producing that sensation: and this power is always there, in the thing, whether we are there to experience it or not, and would remain there though there were not left a man on the face of 
the earth. Precisely in the same way gunpowder has a power of exploding. It will not explode if you put no match to it. But it has always the power of so exploding, and }{\f17\fs24\cgrid0 is }{\fs24\cgrid0 
therefore called an explosive compound, which it very positively and assuredly is, whatever philosophy may say to the contrary.
\par }\pard \qj\fi181\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx351\tx532\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 In like manner, a gentian does not produce the sensation of blueness, if you don\rquote 
t look at it. But it has always the power of doing so; its particles being everlastingly so arranged by }{\f17\fs24\cgrid0 its }{\fs24\cgrid0 Maker. And, therefore, 
the gentian and the sky are always verily blue, whatever philosophy may say to the contrary; and if you do not see them blue when you look at them, it is not their fault, but yours.
\par Hence I would say to these philosophers: If, instead of using the sonorous phrase, \ldblquote It is objectively so,\rdblquote  you will use the plain old phrase, \ldblquote It }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 is }{\fs24\cgrid0 so,\rdblquote 
 and if instead of the sonorous phrase, \ldblquote It is subjectively so,\rdblquote  you will say, in plain old English, \ldblquote It does so,\rdblquote  or \ldblquote It seems so to me,\rdblquote  you will, on the whole, be more intell
igible to your fellow-creatures; and besides, if you find that a thing which generally \ldblquote does so\rquote  to other people (as a gentian looks blue to most men), does }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 not }{\fs24\cgrid0 
so to you, on any particular occasion, you will not fall into the impertinence of saying, that 
the thing is not so, or did not so, but you will say simply (what you will be all the better for speedily finding out), that something is the matter with you. If you find that you cannot explode the gunpowder, you will not declare that all gunpowder is su
b
jective, and all explosion imaginary, but you will simply suspect and declare yourself to be an ill-made match. Which, on the whole, though there may be a distant chance of a mistake about it, is, nevertheless, the wisest conclusion you can come to until 
further experiment.
\par Now, therefore, putting these tiresome and absurd words
\par }\pard\plain \s15\qj\nowidctlpar\tx1632\adjustright {\b 64 
\par }\pard\plain \s16\qj\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1638\adjustright {quite out of our way, we may go on at our ease to examine the point in question,\emdash namely, the difference between the ordinary, proper, and true appearances of things to us; and t
he extraordinary, or false appearances, when we are under the influence of emotion, or contemplative fancy; false appearances, I say, as being entirely unconnected with any real power or character in the object, and only imputed to it by us.
\par }\pard\plain \s20\sl-430\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1831\adjustright {For instance\emdash  
\par }{\i \ldblquote The spendthrift crocus, bursting through the mould
\par }\pard\plain \s17\qj\nowidctlpar\tx1916\adjustright {\i Naked and shivering, with his cup of gold.\rdblquote }{\cs22\i\super \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \s19\qj\fi-193\nowidctlpar\tx1632\tx1825\adjustright {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\fs20 
From Oliver Wendell Holmes\rquote s }{\b\i\fs20 Astraea}{\b\i\fs16 .}}}{\i 
\par }\pard\plain \qj\widctlpar\tx1916\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\i\fs24 
\par }\pard\plain \s18\qj\fi193\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1638\tx1831\adjustright {This is very beautiful, and yet very untrue. The crocus is not a spendthrift, but a hardy plan
t; its yellow is not gold, but saffron. How is it that we enjoy so much the having it put into our heads that it is anything else than a plain crocus?
\par It is an important question. For, throughout our past reasonings about art, we have always found that not
hing could be good or useful, or ultimately pleasurable, which was untrue. But here is something pleasurable in written poetry, which is nevertheless untrue. And what is more, if we think over our favourite poetry, we shall find it full of this kind of fa
llacy, and that we like it all the more for being so.
\par It will appear also, on consideration of the matter, that this fallacy is of two principal kinds. Either, as in this case of the crocus, it is the fallacy of wilful fancy, which involves no real expectat
ion that it will be believed; or else it is a fallacy caused by an excited state of the feelings, making us, for the time, more or less irrational. Of the cheating of the fancy we shall have to speak presently; but in this chapter, I want to examine the n
ature of the other error, that which the mind admits when affected strongly by emotion. Thus, for instance, in }{\i Alton Locke,\emdash 
\par }\pard\plain \qj\nowidctlpar\tx2415\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\b\fs24\cgrid0  65
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx793\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote They rowed her in across the rolling foam\emdash  The cruel, crawling foam.\rdblquote }{\cs22\i\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \s21\widctlpar\adjustright 
\fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\fs18\cgrid0 From Chapter 26 of Charles Kingsley\rquote s novel.}}}{\i\fs24\cgrid0 
\par 
\par }\pard \qj\fi351\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx351\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 The foam
 is not cruel, neither does it crawl. The state of mind which attributes to it these characters of a living creature is one in which the reason is unhinged by grief. All violent feelings have the same effect. They produce in us a falseness in all our impr
essions of external things, which I would generally characterize as the \ldblquote pathetic fallacy.\rdblquote 
\par Now we are in the habit of considering this fallacy as eminently a character of poetical description, and the temper of mind in which we allow it, as one eminently p
oetical, because passionate. But I believe, if we look well into the matter, that we shall find the greatest poets do not often admit this kind of falseness,\emdash that it is only the second order of poets who much delight in it.}{
\cs22\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \qj\sl-175\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx181\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\cgrid0 I admit two orders of poets, b
ut no third; and by these two orders I mean the creative (Shakspeare, Homer, Dante), and Reflective or Perceptive (Wordsworth, Keats. Tennyson). But both of these must be first-rate In their range, though their range is different; and with poetry second r
ate in }{\i\cgrid0 quality }{\cgrid0 no one ought to be allowed to trouble mankind. [Ruskin\rquote s note.]}}}{\fs24\cgrid0 
\par Thus, when Dante describes the spirits falling from the bank of Acheron \ldblquote as dead leaves flutter from a bough,\rdblquote  he gives the most perfect image possible of their utter lightness,
 feebleness, passiveness, and scattering agony of despair, without, however, for an instant losing his own clear perception that }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 these }{\fs24\cgrid0 are souls, and }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 those }{\fs24\cgrid0 
are leaves; he makes no confusion of one with the other. But when Coleridge speaks of
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx351\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \qc\nowidctlpar\tx351\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
\par That dances as often as dance it can,\rdblquote }{\cs22\i\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \qj\nowidctlpar\tx368\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\cgrid0  \ldblquote Christabel,\rdblquote  11. 49\emdash 50.}}}{
\i\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx351\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 he has a morbid, that is to say, a so far false, idea about the leaf; he fancies a life in it, and will, which there are not;
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx1508\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 66 }{\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx270\tx1746\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 confuses its
 powerlessness with choice, its fading death with merriment, and the wind that shakes it with music. Here, however, there is some beauty, even in the morbid passage; but take an instance in Homer and Pope. Without the knowledge of Ulysses, Elpenor, his yo
u
ngest follower, has fallen from an upper chamber in the Circean palace, and has been left dead, unmissed by his leader or companions, in the haste of their departure. They cross the sea to the Cimmerian land; and Ulysses summons the shades from Tartarus. 
The first which appears is that of the lost Elpenor. Ulysses, amazed, and in exactly the spirit of bitter and terrified lightness which is seen in Hamlet,}{\cs22\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \qj\sl-175\slmult0\nowidctlpar
\tx1508\tx1666\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\cgrid0 \ldblquote Well said, old mole! canst work i\rquote  the ground so fast?\rdblquote  (Ruskin\rquote s note.]}}}{\fs24\cgrid0 addresses the spirit with the simple, startled words:
\emdash  
\par 
\par }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote Elpenor! How camest thou under the shadowy darkness?
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx1496\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 Hast thou come faster on foot than I in my black ship?\rdblquote 
\par 
\par }\pard \sl-413\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1746\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 Which Pope renders thus:\emdash  
\par }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote 0, say, what angry power Elpenor led
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx1802\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 To glide in shades, and wander with the dead?
\par }\pard \sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1802\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 How could thy soul, by realms and seas disjoined, 
\par Out fly the nimble sail, and leave the lagging wind?\rdblquote 
\par 
\par }\pard \qj\fi159\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1587\tx1746\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 I sincerely hope the reader finds no pleasure here, either in the nimbleness of the sail, or the laziness of the wind! And yet how is it that these conce
its are so painful now, when they have been pleasant to us in the other instances?
\par For a very simple reason. They are not a }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 pathetic }{\fs24\cgrid0 fallacy at all, for they are put into the mouth of the wrong passion \emdash a passion which never could possibly have spoken them\emdash 
 agonized curiosity. Ulysses wants to know the facts of the matter; and the very last thing his mind could do at the moment would be to pause, or suggest in any wise what was }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 not }{\fs24\cgrid0 
a fact. The delay in the first three lines, and conceit in the last, jar upon us instantly like the most frightful discord
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1587\tx1746\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 67
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 in music. No poet of true imaginative power could possibly have written the passage.
\par }\pard \qj\fi351\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx351\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 Therefore we see that the spirit of truth must guide us in some sort, even in our enjoyment of fallacy. Coleridge\rquote s fallacy has no discord in it, but Pope\rquote 
s has set our teeth on edge. Without farther questioning, I will endeavour to state the main bearings of this matter.
\par The temperament which admits the pathetic fallacy, is, as I said above, that of a mind and body in some sort too weak to deal fully with what }{\f17\fs24\cgrid0 is }{\fs24\cgrid0 
before them or upon them; borne away, or over-clouded, or over-dazzled by emotion; and it is a more or less noble state, according to the force of the emotion which has induced it. For it is no credit to a ma
n that he is not morbid or inaccurate in his perceptions, when he has no strength of feeling to warp them; and it is in general a sign of higher capacity and stand in the ranks of being, that the emotions should be strong enough to van\-
quish, partly, the i
ntellect, and make it believe what they choose. But it is still a grander condition when the intellect also rises, till it is strong enough to assert its rule against, or together with, the utmost efforts of the passions; and the whole man stands in an ir
on glow, white hot, perhaps, but still strong, and in no wise evaporating; even if he melts, losing none of his weight.
\par So, then, we have the three ranks: the man who perceives rightly, because he does not feel, and to whom the primrose is very accurately t
he primrose, because he does not love it Then, secondly, the man who perceives wrongly, because he feels, and to whom the primrose is anything else than a primrose: a star, or a sun, or a fairy\rquote 
s shield, or a forsaken maiden. And then, lastly, there is the man who perceives rightly in spite of his feelings, and to whom the primrose is for ever nothing else than itself\emdash a little flower appre\-
hended in the very plain and leafy fact of it, whatever and how many soever the associations and passions may be that crowd around it. And, in general, these three classes may be rated in comparative order, }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 as the men who are not poets}{
\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-255\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1661\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 68 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1587\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 at all, and the poets of the second order, and the poets of the first; only however great a man may be, there are always some subjects which }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 ought }{\fs24\cgrid0 
to throw him off his balance; some, by which his poor human capacity of thought should be conquered, and brought into the inaccurate and vague state of perception, so that the language of the highest inspiration becomes broken, obscure, and wil
d in metaphor, resembling that of the weaker man, overborne by weaker things.
\par }\pard \qj\fi266\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1655\tx1921\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 
And thus, in full, there are four classes: the men who feel nothing, and therefore see truly; the men who feel strongly, think weakly, and see untruly (second order of poets); th
e men who feel strongly, think strongly, and see truly (first order of poets); and the men who, strong as human creatures can be, are yet submitted to influences stronger than they, and see in a sort untruly, because what they see is inconceivably above t
hem. This last is the usual condition of prophetic inspiration....
\par Dante, in his most intense moods, has entire command of himself, and can look around calmly, at all moments, for the image or the word that will best tell what he sees to the upper or lower 
world. But Keats and Tennyson, and the poets of the second order, are generally themselves subdued by the feelings under which they write, or, at least, write as choosing to be so; and therefore admit certain expressions and modes of thought which are in 
some sort diseased or false.
\par Now so long as we see that the }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 feeling }{\fs24\cgrid0 is true, we pardon, or are even pleased by, the confessed fallacy of sight which it induces: we are pleased, for instance, with those lines of Kingsley\rquote 
s above quoted, not because they fallaciously de\-
scribe foam, but because they faithfully describe sorrow. But the moment the mind of the speaker becomes cold, that moment every such expression becomes untrue, as being for ever untrue in the external facts. And there is no greater baseness in
 literature than the habit of using these metaphorical expressions in cool blood. An inspired writer, in full impetuosity of passion, may speak wisely and truly of
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx2296\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0  69
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote raging waves of the sea foaming out their own shame but it is only the basest writer who cannot speak of the sea without talking of \ldblquote raging waves,\rdblquote  \ldblquote 
remorseless floods,\rdblquote  \ldblquote ravenous billows,\rdblquote  etc.; and it is one of the signs of the highest power in a writer to check all such habits of thought, and to keep his eyes fixed firmly on the }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 pure fact, }{
\fs24\cgrid0 out of which if any feeling comes to him or his reader, he knows it must be a true one....
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx226\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 \tab It may be well, perhaps, to give one or two more instances to show the peculiar dignity possessed by all passages, which thus limit their expression to the pure f
act, and leave the hearer to gather what he can from it. Here is a notable one from the }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 iliad. }{\fs24\cgrid0 Helen, looking from the Scaean gate of Troy over the Grecian host, and telling Priam the names of its captains, says at last:
\emdash  
\par 
\par }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote I see all the other dark-eyed Greeks; but two I cannot
\par }\pard \qj\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 see,\emdash Castor and Pollux,\emdash 
whom one mother bore with me. Have they not followed from fair Lacedaemon, or have they indeed come in their sea-wandering ships, but now will not enter into the battle of men, fearing the shame and the scorn that is in Me?\rdblquote 
\par 
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx226\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 Then Homer:\emdash  
\par 
\par }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote So she spoke. But them, already, the life-giving earth
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 possessed, there in Lacedamon, in the dear fatherland.\rdblquote 
\par 
\par }\pard \qj\fi226\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 
Note, here, the high poetical truth carried to the extreme. The poet has to speak of the earth in sadness, but he will not let that sadness affect or change his thoughts of it. No; though Castor and Pollux be dead, yet the earth is our mother still, fruit
ful, life-giving. These are the facts of the thing. I see nothing else than these. Make what you will of them....
\par }\pard \qj\fi226\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx226\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 A poet is great, first in proportion to the strength of his passion, and then, that strength being granted, in proportion to his government of 
it; there being, however, always a point beyond which it would be inhuman and monstrous if he pushed this government, and, therefore, a point at which
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx1666\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 70 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1615\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 all feverish and wild fancy becomes just and true. Thus the destruction of the kingdom of Assyria cannot be contem\-
plated firmly by a prophet of Israel. The fact is too great, too wonderful. It overthrows him, dashes him into a con\-fused element of dreams. All the world is, to his stunned thought, full of strange voices. \ldblquote Yea, the fir-trees rejoice at the
e, and the cedars of Lebanon, saying, \lquote Since thou art gone down to the grave, no feller is come up against us.\rdblquote \rquote  So, still more, the thought of the presence of Deity cannot be borne without this great astonishment. \ldblquote 
The mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.\rdblquote }{\cs22\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \s21\widctlpar\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }
{\cgrid0 Isaiah 14:8; 55:12.}}}{\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \qj\fi216\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1615\tx1831\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 But by how much this feeling is noble when it is justified by the strength of its cause, by so much it is ignoble when there is not cause enough f
or it; and beyond all other ig\-nobleness is the mere affectation of it, in hardness of heart. Simply bad writing may almost always, as above noticed, be known by its adoption of these fanciful metaphorical ex\-
pressions as a sort of current coin; yet there is even a worse, at least a more harmful condition of writing than this, in which such expressions are not ignorantly and feelinglessly caught up, but, by some master, skilful in handling, yet in\-
sincere, deliberately wrought out with chill and studied fancy; as if we should try to make an old lava-stream look red-hot again, by covering it with dead leaves, or white-hot, with hoar-frost.
\par }\pard \sl-362\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1831\tx2125\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 When Young is lost in veneration, as he dwells on the character of a truly good and holy man, he permits himself for a moment to be overborne by the feeling so far as to exclaim
\emdash  
\par }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote Where shall I find him? angels, tell me where.
\par }\pard \sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx2233\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 You know him; he is near you; point him out.
\par Shall I see glories beaming from his brow, 
\par Or trace his footsteps by the rising flowers?\rdblquote }{\cs22\i\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \s21\widctlpar\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\i\cgrid0 Night Thoughts, }{\cgrid0 ii, 345.}}}{\i\fs24\cgrid0 
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx2018\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 71
\par }\pard \fi-74\nowidctlpar\tx226\tx300\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 This emotion has a worthy cause, and is thus true and right. But now hear the cold-hearted Pope say to a shepherd
\par }\pard \fi-226\nowidctlpar\tx226\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 girl\emdash  
\par }\pard \fi-226\sl-362\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx226\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 
\par \tab }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote Where\rquote er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade;
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx192\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade;
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 Your praise the birds shall chant in every grove,
\par And winds shall waft it to the powers above.
\par But would you sing, and rival Orpheus\rquote  strain,
\par The wondering forests soon should dance again;
\par The moving mountains hear the powerful call,
\par And headlong streams hang, listening, in their fall.\rdblquote }{\cs22\i\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain \s21\widctlpar\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\i\cgrid0 Pastorals, }{\cgrid0 \ldblquote Summer.\rdblquote  11. 73
\emdash 74. 79-84.}}}{\i\fs24\cgrid0 
\par 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-238\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 \tab This is not, nor could it for a moment be mistaken for, the language of passion. It is simple falsehood, uttered by hypocrisy; definite absurdity, rooted in affectation, and coldly
 asserted in the teeth of nature and fact. Passion will indeed go far in deceiving itself; but it must be a strong passion, not the simple wish of a lover to tempt his mistress to sing. Compare a very closely parallel passage in Words\-
worth, in which the lover has lost his mistress:
\par 
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 \ldblquote Three years had Barbara in her grave been laid,
\par }\pard \sl-498\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 When thus his moan he made:\emdash  \lquote Oh, move, thou cottage, from behind yon oak,
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx192\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 Or let the ancient tree uprooted lie,
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 That in some other way yon smoke
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx192\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 May mount into the sky.
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx204\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 if still behind yon pine-tree\rquote s ragged bough,
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx198\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 Headlong, the waterfall must come,
\par }\pard \sl-357\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx198\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 Oh, let it, then, be dumb\emdash  Be anything, sweet stream, but that which thou art now.\rquote  \ldblquote }{\cs22\i\fs24\super\cgrid0 \chftn {\footnote \pard\plain 
\s21\widctlpar\adjustright \fs20\cgrid {\cs22\super \chftn }{ }{\b\cgrid0 \lquote }{\cgrid0 T Is Said}{\b\cgrid0  }{\cgrid0 That Some Have Died}{\b\cgrid0  }{\cgrid0 for Love,\rdblquote  11. 11\emdash 16, 33\emdash 36.}}}{\i\fs24\cgrid0 
\par 
\par }\pard \nowidctlpar\tx181\adjustright {\i\fs24\cgrid0 \tab }{\fs24\cgrid0 Here is a cottage to be moved, if not a mountain, and a waterfall to be silent, if it is not to hang listening: but with what different relation to the mind that contemplates
\par }\pard \qj\sl-255\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1661\adjustright {\b\fs24\cgrid0 72 
\par }\pard \qj\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1615\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 them! Here, in the extremity of its agony, the soul cries out wildly for relief, which at the same moment it partly knows to be impossible, but partly believes possible, in a vague im
\-pression that a miracle }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 might }{\fs24\cgrid0 be wrought to give relief even to a less sore distress,\emdash that nature is kind, and God is kind, and that grief is strong: it knows not well what }{\i\fs24\cgrid0 is }{\fs24\cgrid0 
possible to such grief. To silence a stream, to move a cottage wall}{\b\fs24\cgrid0 ,\emdash  }{\fs24\cgrid0 one might think it could do as much as that!
\par }\pard \qj\fi216\sl-243\slmult0\nowidctlpar\tx1615\tx1831\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 I believe these instances are enough to illustrate the main point I insist upon respecting the pathetic fallacy,\emdash that so far as}{\b\fs24\cgrid0  }{\fs24\cgrid0 it }
{\i\fs24\cgrid0 is }{\fs24\cgrid0 a fallacy}{\b\fs24\cgrid0 , }{\fs24\cgrid0 it is always the sign of a morbid state of mind, and comparatively of a weak one}{\b\fs24\cgrid0 .
\par }\pard \qc\nowidctlpar\tx1661\adjustright {\fs24\cgrid0 [Vol. III, Part 4, Chap. 12]
\par }}