mind the various divisions of our
subject; but, when he has once read the chapter through, he will see
their places and coherence. We have next to consider the expression
throughout of the minds of men who indulge themselves in unnecessary
play. It is evident that a large number of these men will be more
refined and more highly educated than those who only play necessarily;
the power of pleasure-seeking implies, in general, fortunate
circumstances of life. It is evident also that their play will not be so
hearty, so simple, or so joyful; and this deficiency of brightness will
affect it in proportion to its unnecessary and unlawful continuance,
until at last it becomes a restless and dissatisfied indulgence in
excitement, or a painful delving after exhausted springs of pleasure.

The art through which this temper is expressed will, in all probability,
be refined and sensual,--therefore, also, assuredly feeble; and because,
in the failure of the joyful energy of the mind, there will fail, also,
its perceptions and its sympathies, it will be entirely deficient in
expression of character, and acuteness of thought, but will be
peculiarly restless, manifesting its desire for excitement in idle
changes of subject and purpose. Incapable of true imagination, it will
seek to supply its place by exaggerations, incoherencies, and
monstrosities; and the form of the grotesque to which it gives rise will
be an incongruous chain of hackneyed graces, idly thrown
together,--prettinesses or sublimities, not of its own invention,
associated in forms which will be absurd without being fantastic, and
monstrous without being terrible. And because, in the continual pursuit
of pleasure, men lose both cheerfulness and charity, there will be small
hilarity, but much malice, in this grotesque; yet a weak malice,
incapable of expressing its own bitterness, not having grasp enough of
truth to become forcible, and exhausting itself in impotent or
disgusting caricature.

Sec. XXXIX. Of course, there are infinite ranks and kinds of this
grotesque, according to the natural power of the minds which originate
it, and to the degree in which they have lost themselves. Its highest
condition is that which first developed itself among the enervated
Romans, and which was brought to the highest perfection of which it was
capable, by Raphael, in the arabesques of the Vatican. It may be
generally described as an elaborate and luscious form of nonsense. Its
lower