This is not the incoherent rant, the waking dream of a schoolboy. No, it is the true and genuine sublime. Imagination cannot add a circumstance to heighten the grandeur, surprise, and horrour of the picture. The fracas, or hurry and tumult of the action in the foreground, the solemnity at a distance; Jupiter attacking the Greek fleets with fire and sword; the able captains mounted on artillery, scattering defeat and dismay : and, lastly, the poor discomfited pigmies, with Thrale’s besatcheled widow at their head, flying, lying, dying !