es driven forward, as it were, on their guard. Whatever, either
in sights or sounds, makes the transition from one extreme to the other
easy, causes no terror, and consequently can be no cause of greatness.
In everything sudden and unexpected, we are apt to start; that is, we
have a perception of danger, and our nature rouses us to guard against
it. It may be observed that a single sound of some strength, though but
of short duration, if repeated after intervals, has a grand effect. Few
things are more awful than the striking of a great clock, when the
silence of the night prevents the attention from being too much
dissipated. The same may be said of a single stroke on a drum, repeated
with pauses; and of the successive firing of cannon at a distance. All
the effects mentioned in this section have causes very nearly alike.

SECTION XIX.

INTERMITTING.

A low, tremulous, intermitting sound, though it seems, in some respects,
opposite to that just mentioned, is productive of the sublime. It is
worth while to examine this a little. The fact itself must be determined
by every man's own experience and reflection. I have already observed,
that night[22] increases our terror, more perhaps than anything else; it
is our nature, when we do not know what may happen to us, to fear the
worst that can happen; and hence it is that uncertainty is so terrible,
that we often seek to be rid of it, at the hazard of a certain mischief.
Now some low, confused, uncertain sounds, leave us in the same fearful
anxiety concerning their causes, that no light, or an uncertain light,
does concerning the objects that surround us.

Quale per incertam lunam sub luce maligna
Est iter in sylvis.

"A faint shadow of uncertain light,
Like as a lamp, whose life doth fade away;
Or as the moon clothed with cloudy night
Doth show to him who walks in fear and great affright."

SPENSER.

But light now appearing, and now leaving us, and so off and on, is even
more terrible than total darkness; and a sort of uncertain sounds are,
when the necessary dispositions concur, more alarming than a total
silence.

SECTION XX.

THE CRIES OF ANIMALS.

Such sounds as imitate the natural inarticulate voices of men, or any
animals in pain or danger, are capable of conveying great ideas; unless
it be the well-known voice of some creature, on which we are used to
look with contempt.