Burke's higher romanticism: politics and the sublime.

• Author: Byrne, William F.

Introduction

Both Edmund Burke and Jean-Jacques Rousseau can be grouped among the key thinkers of the eighteenth century. They are widely understood to be quite different from one another, and their outlooks--especially their political-philosophical views--are often contrasted by scholars. Among those who have profitably contrasted Burke with Rousseau is the early twentieth century literary scholar and social critic Irving Babbitt. Babbitt famously favors the "classic" over the "romantic"; he considers romanticism's ethical and political implications to be destructive of society. He uses Rousseau as his prime representative of romanticism and of all that is wrong with it, and uses Burke as a foil in criticizing Rousseau. Although Babbitt never explicitly describes Burke's thought as "classical," Burke sometimes seems to serve as Babbitt's primary representative of the "classical" perspective he champions.

What is odd about Babbitt's treatment of Burke and Rousseau is that Babbitt never points out that Burke is, himself, a romantic. Literary scholars and students of aesthetics have long grouped both Rousseau and Burke among the originators or articulators of the romantic tradition. Although it is Rousseau who is more widely associated with the romantic movement today, Burke's Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful was, for a century, almost 'required reading' for writers and artists of a romantic bent, or for anyone with an interest in romanticism, not just in the English-speaking world but on the Continent as well. Burke's romanticism is rarely discussed by political theorists, and many rank-and-file conservatives who admire Burke's politics have probably never thought of him as a representative of the romantic movement. Yet, this is an undeniable dimension of Burke's thought. It is argued here that understanding Burke's romanticism is an important part of understanding Burke. Understanding Burke's romanticism also helps one understand the subtle ways in which aesthetics, ethics, and politics interact.

Burke, Rousseau, and Romanticism

In some ways, Burke's romanticism seems problematic and even paradoxical. Harold Laski maintained that "no man was more deeply hostile to the early politics of the romantic movement ... than was Burke; yet, on the whole, it is with the romantics that Burke's fundamental influence remains." (1) This raises the question: How can Burke, who viewed Rousseau's legacy and the "early politics of the romantic movement" so negatively, be identified closely with the same movement? Of course, this is only a meaningful question if one believes that strong connections exist between the aesthetic (or artistic) and the political and ethical. This article is premised upon such a belief. But, perhaps the case of Burke and romanticism suggests that such connections do not exist, or, at least, do not exist in this case. Or, one might argue that the political and ethical worldviews of Burke and other romantics like Rousseau are really not as different as is usually supposed, and as Burke's own remarks suggest. Or, one might argue that Burke is really not a romantic at all. The perspective articulated by this article is that, for Burke (and for other thinkers such as Rousseau), close ties do in fact exist between aesthetic approaches and political-ethical worldviews. Also, it is accepted that Burke and other romantics like Rousseau are in fact quite different politically and ethically, but that the common classification of Burke as a romantic is nevertheless correct.

Although Babbitt never mentions Burke's associations with romanticism (of which he was surely aware), he does note some similarities between Burke and Rousseau: he finds them both to be, in some way, "individualistic," (2) and he admits that "the antiintellectual [sic] side of Burke reminds one at times of the antiintellectual side of Rousseau," but maintains that "the resemblance is, however, only superficial." (3) On very rare occasions, Babbitt will specify that when he is criticizing romanticism he is addressing only "a particular type of romanticism" exemplified by Rousseau. (4) Presumably this would open the door to identifying and discussing other forms of romanticism, such as that of Burke, but Babbitt does not do so. Perhaps Babbitt feels compelled to dismiss resemblances between Burke and Rousseau as "superficial," and to avoid any acknowledgment of Burke's romantic side, because, for him, romanticism is inextricably bound up with the ethics and politics of Rousseau, and with Rousseau's mark on modern society.

From an ethical and political perspective, Babbitt finds that "every imaginable extreme, the extreme of reaction as well as the extreme of radicalism, goes with romanticism; every genuine mediation between extremes is just as surely unromantic." (5) Romantics like Rousseau lack a sound ethical center; particularly, they lack a meaningful sense of self-restraint. One reason why Babbitt likes to contrast Burke with Rousseauesque romanticism is that Burke so famously emphasizes restraint and humility. Moral and political restraint and moderation are for Babbitt linked aesthetically to the classical emphasis on "decorum." Indeed, at the most basic level, Babbitt finds that "a thing is classical" when it is "representative of a class," while, "a thing is romantic when it is strange, unexpected, intense, superlative, extreme, unique, etc." (6) He sets up a contrast between wonder--which he associates with romanticism--and awe--which he associates with more classical thought. To Babbitt, wonder is a fascination with strangeness and variety, while one experiences awe when he "attends to the unity which underlies the manifoldness and that likewise transcends him." (7) In distinguishing between the thought of Rousseau and that of Burke, Babbitt finds that "Rousseau is plainly an apostle of wonder" while Burke's focus is on preserving awe. (8)

In rejecting decorum and restraint, Rousseau's romanticism leads to a rejection of existing political and social orders. Indeed, Rousseau finds civilized society (at least, as we know it) to be corrupting; it interferes with man's natural goodness. Likewise, as Burke scholar Peter Stanlis has argued, Rousseau "distrusted discursive reason and logic and the methods of science, and placed his faith in his emotions, intuition, and imagination as higher instruments for knowing truth." (9) One effect of the romantic emphasis on emotion and rejection of decorum and restraint is the loss of a meaningful concept of virtue. One commentator on Rousseau, Arthur M. Melzer, maintains that "Rousseau is so far from subscribing to the reality or moral necessity of virtue that he repeatedly proclaims himself 'the best of men' even while denying that he is virtuous." (10) As Babbitt points out, to the romantic, morality becomes defined as strong emotion, such as sympathy; in the process of this redefinition, meaningful standards for action are lost. He describes how Rousseau abandons his own children but lavishes pity on a dying pig. (11) Politically, this sort of irresponsible emotionalism translates in part into universal benevolence for mankind, accompanied by an absence of truly moral action for real people.

If this is romanticism, how then can Burke, who certainly emphasized such qualities as restraint, humility, responsibility, consistency, and decorum, be a romantic? An examination of Burke's romanticism and its relationship to his broader worldview will follow.

Burke's Aesthetics

For most readers of Burke today, exposure to his romanticism comes not by reading his writings on aesthetics or the arts, but by experiencing it directly through his use of romantic imagery. Perhaps the best-known exemplification of Burke's romantic side is a famous (or perhaps infamous) passage in his Reflections on the Revolution in France:

It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles, and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in--glittering like the morning star, full of life and splendor and joy. Oh! what a revolution! and what a heart must I have to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that fall! Little did I dream when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever. (12) This passage, full of emotion, dripping with nostalgia for an idealized past which some might say never really existed, and seeming to elevate the dauphiness beyond the level of any mere mortal, was the subject of much derision. Indeed, one may get a sense here of the sort of emotional superficiality often associated with romanticism. Is Burke, then, no different from Rousseau, except for the particular subjects he chooses to idealize and to demonize? Exploring this question requires a deeper investigation into Burke's aesthetic thought.

Burke's aesthetic thought is laid out most explicitly in A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful, the first edition of which was published in 1757. In the Enquiry, Burke shows great concern for the affective dimension of the beautiful and the sublime. He sets up a sharp contrast, perhaps too sharp a contrast, between an experience of the beautiful and...