whom it is notwithstanding very affecting, as war, death, famine, &c.  Besides many ideas have never been at all presented to the senses of any men but by words, as God, angels, devils, heaven, and hell, all of which have however a great influence over the passions.  Thirdly, by words we have it in our power to make such combinations as we cannot possibly do otherwise.  By this power of combining we are able, by the addition of well-chosen circumstances, to give a new life and force to the simple object.  In painting we may represent any fine figure we please; but we never can give it those enlivening touches which it may receive from words.  To represent an angel in a picture, you can only draw a beautiful young man winged:  but what painting can furnish out anything so grand as the addition of one word, “the angel of the Lord”?  It is true, I have here no clear idea; but these words affect the mind more than the sensible image did; which is all I contend for.  A picture of Priam dragged to the altar’s foot, and there murdered, if it were well executed, would undoubtedly be very moving; but there are very aggravating circumstances, which it could never represent: 

     Sanguine foedantem quos ipse sacraverat ignes.

As a further instance, let us consider those lines of Milton, where he describes the travels of the fallen angels through their dismal habitation: 

          “O’er many a dark and dreary vale
    They passed, and many a region dolorous;
    O’er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp;
    Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death,
    A universe of death.”

Here is displayed the force of union in

   “Rocks, caves, lakes, dens, bogs, fens, and shades”

which yet would lose the greatest part of their effect, if they were not the

   “Rocks, caves, lakes, dens, bogs, fens, and shades—­of Death.”

This idea or this affection caused by a word, which nothing but a word could annex to the others, raises a very great degree of the sublime, and this sublime is raised yet higher by what follows, a “universe of death.”  Here are again two ideas not presentable but by language, and an union of them great and amazing beyond conception; if they may properly be called ideas which present no distinct image to the mind; but still it will be difficult to conceive how words can move the passions which belong to real objects, without representing these objects clearly.  This is difficult to us, because we do not sufficiently distinguish, in our observations upon language, between a clear expression and a strong expression.  These are frequently confounded with each other, though they are in reality extremely different.  The former regards the understanding, the latter belongs to the passions.  The one describes a thing as it is, the latter describes it as it is felt.  Now, as there is a moving tone of voice, an impassioned countenance,