« -mil *'«& ?>r £*•*££ MM ^f^fel . * « « \J A ^J if A N ANALYTICAL INQUIRY INTO THE PRINCIPLES OF TASTE. BY RICHARD PAYNE KNIGHT. THE THIRD EDITION. Quid placet aut odio est, quod non mutabile credas ? Toiog yag woe, tgriv %7Ti^ovmv avSgwiruv, Olov £7t y\\kl% ayyai Tramp avtytov te Sewvte. ilonoon : Printed by Luke Hansard, near Lincoln's-Inn Fields, >'OU T. PAYNE, MEWS-GATE; AND J. WHITE, FLEET-STREET. 1806. [ iii ] CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION, p. i. Containing a Sceptical View of the Subject. 1. In its Principles. 2. In Building, Furniture, Gardening, and Dress. 3. In imitative Art. 4. In Style. 5. In the Productions of Nature. 6. Of the Word Beauty. 7. Applied to intellectual as well as sensible Qualities, 8. Variations in its Meaning. 9. As to the Sexes in Mankind. 10. Mr. Hume's Opinion considered. it. Sexual Tastes of Brutes. 12. Double Meaning of the word Taste. PART I. p. 19. OF SENSATION. CHAP. I. OF THE SENSE OF TASTE 1. Its Organs. 2. Primary or simple Sensation, 3. Variation. 4. Irritation. 5. In different Individuals. 6. Mixed Flavours. 7. & 8. Vitiated and morbid Palates. 9. Their Pleasures and Habits. 10. Why fixed and indispensable, 11. Intoxicating Qualifies. A 2 IV CONTENTS. CHAP. II. OF SMELL. 1. Its Organs, and their Modes of Action. 2. Connected vwth mental Sympathies in Brutes. 3. In Dogs. 4. In Oxen. 5. Mr. Burke's Opinion considered- 6. Sexual Sympathies of* Brutes. CHAP. III. OF TOUCH. 1. Its Modes and Limits — Smoothness. 2. Sexual Sympathies — Irritation. 3. Titillation. 4. Sir Joshua Reynolds's Position confirmed. 5. Internal Stimuli. 6. External Stimuli in Plants. 7. Sensation of Plants, organic Sensations in general. 8. Have no Resemblance to Objects or Ideas. E\'\-> dence of Sense. 9. Ideas — according to Plato. 10. Scepticism. 11. Its Origin. 12. Inverted Action of the Nerves. Cessation. 13. Various Pleasures of Cessation or inverted Action. CHAP. IV. OF HEARING. 1. Organs and Modes of Action. •2. Sound — how conveyed. 3. Its Nature and Causes. 4. Its Effects, Modes, and Degrees of Irritation. 5. Simple and mixed Tones. CONTENTS. Y 6. Connected with mental Sympathies in Animals. 7. In Mankind. 8. Expression in Music. 9. Articulate Sounds. 10. Verse. 11. Compared with Music. 12. Measure and Quantity. 13. How violated Li the dead Languages.- 14. How far addressed to organic Sense. 15. Musical and Poetical Melody. id. Distance and Direction of Sounds. ij. Their Grandeur and Sublimity. CHAP. V. OF SIGHT, 1. Its Causes. 2. Primary Effects. Projection. 3. Distance.' 4. Visible Magnitude. 5. Error of Mr. Burke. 6. Irritation — its Effects on the Organ. 7. Pleasures and Pains. Colours. 8. Reflected and refracted Lights. Effects of Colours, simple and mixed. 9. Sensual or visible Beauty. lo. Decrees of Sensibility in the Organs. 11 & 12. Smoothness, Sharpness, and Brilliancy in polished and transparent Objects* 13. In the Coats of Animals. 14. In Buildings, Gardens, Pieces of Water, 8cc. 15. Neatness. i6. General Principles of visible Beauty. 17. Illustrated by particular Instances. Deceptions of Sight. a 3 VI CONTENTS. 1 8. Mixed Qualities and Sensations — how separated. 19. Adverse Opinions of Mr. Price and Boileau. 20. Grottesques. 2 1 . Mixed Qualities and Sensations further explained. 22. Consequence of Mr. Burke's Doctrine of Beauty. 23. Mr. Burke's System compared with that of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 24. Illustrated by Examples of the Temples of Vesta and Indian Domes. 25. The latter further examined. Mental Sympathies. 26. Beauties of Colour and Form in Animals. Ap- propriated Beauties of particular Kinds, de- pending on Habit. Irregularity. 27. Sexual Predilections — their Influence and Ef~ fects. 28. Force of Light — as reflected. 29. As acting directly upon the Eye. Mr. Burke's Error. 30. Darkness. Mr. Burke's Notion, of it examined. 31. Other Privations compared with it. 32. Difficulty of considering Sensation alone. 33. Particularly in Vision. 34. Progress of Perception. 35. Its Effect in reducing the Pleasures of Sense. PART II. p. 99. OF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. CHAP. I. OF KNOWLEDGE OR IMPROVED PERCEPTION. 1. Artificial Perception — how far independent of organic Sensation. 2. Imitative Art. CONTENTS. Vll 3. Imitation in general. 4. Its Pleasures of short Duration. 5. Science in Art— its Pleasures. 6. Whence derived. 7. Originals and Copies — their Difference. 8. Drawings and unfinished Sketches. 9. Juvenile and imperfect Works. 10. Mental Habits — their Effect on Sensation. 11. Exactitude of Imitation — where vicious. 12. Where just and necessary — in Painting. 13. In Sculpture. 14. Sculpture compared with Painting. 15. Poetry with Music. 16. Articulate Language and inarticulate Notes. 17. Idiom in Language, Rhythm, Prosody. 18. Melody in Language. 19. Modes of Articulation. 20. Verse considered in the Abstract. 21. As connected with Sense or Meaning. 22. With Passion, Sentiment, and Sympathj r . 23. Irregularity and Variety comparatively consi- dered — in Poetry and Music — in Sculpture and Painting. 24. Pope and Milton. 25. English Verse — its Nature and Character. 26. General distinct Characters of Verse and Prose. 27. Verse necessary to Poetry, and wherefore. 28. Paradise Lost. 29. English Blank Verse — its Defects in Milton. 30. In Thomson and Cowper. 31. Inversions and Transpositions. 32. Collocation of Words. Order of the Imagina- tion. Order of the Understanding. 33. Their different Effects in Poetry. a 4 VI11 CONTENTS. 34. Various Effects of Verse. 35. Vicious Modes of pronouncing Greek and Latin. 36. 37. Why they do not destroy the Character of Verse. CHAP. II. OF IMAGINATION. 1. Association of Ideas — when become habitual, involuntary. 2. Its Effects on Temper and Disposition. Lunacy. 3. Intoxication. 4. Dreams. 5. Anxiety, Grief, and Vexation. 6. Vivacity, Wit, Madness. 7. Idiocy. / 8. Memory — how connected with Imagination. 9. Memory — artificial. 10. Natural, but unregulated. 1 1 . Prosers and Prattlers. 12. Pleasures of Intellect — in natural Objects. 13. In social and moral. 14. In the fine Arts. 15. The Picturesque. 16. Origin and Use of this Word. 17. Its proper Meaning. 18. Style of Painting at its Revival. 19. Its Defects. 20. How changed and corrected. 21. Theuce the Distinction of Picaresque. 22. Which could not have existed before. 23. In what Sense picturesque Objects may not be beautiful. 24. Objects purely picturesque. 25. Pleasures of Sense and Intellect improve each other. •CONTENTS. "" ix 16. Hence Objects of Sense receive their Character from the Mind. 27. Such are picturesque Objects, which are there- fore indefinite in Number and Kind. 2S. Neatness, Fresh ness, Lightness, Symmetry, Re- gularity, Uniformity and Propriety. 29. Dress and Culture. Consistency and Propriety. 30. In Houses and Gardens. 31. In Parks and Forests. 32. Sense of Propriety or Congruity, artificial and acquired. Mixed Architecture. 33. 34. Its Advantages. 35. Gothic Architecture, military and monastic. 36. Buildings of the Goths, Ceits, Scandinavians, &c. 37. Military Architecture of the Greeksand Romans. 38. When employed in Houses and Villas. 39. Rise and Progress of Monastic or Cathedral Gothic. 40. Sacred Architecture of the Greeks and Romans. 41. Improperly copied and applied to Houses. 42. In Decorations of Grounds. 43. Ancient Coins, 8cc. why interesting. 44. Symmetry--in Animals. 45. In the Orders of Architecture. 46. Its Reasons. 47. Its Origin and Progress. 48. Refinement and Excess — opposed to the Gothic Principle of Contrast. 49. Scale by which the Eye measures. 50. Consequent Effects of Proportion in St. Peter's. 51. And of Contrast in Gothic Cathedrals. 52. Of Intricacy and Extent. 53. Lightness in Sculpture and Building. 54. Errors of Imitation in Principles. X CONTENTS. 55. Lightness in Painting. Flowing Lines. Rubens. 56. Corregio. 57. Sexual Beauty— -its Principle. 58. Sudden Love. 59. Love, as existing among civilized and savage Men, and brute Animals, comparatively con- sidered. 60. Power of Imagination. 61. Sensual and Social or Sentimental Love. 62. Metaphysical Love. Petrarch. Cowley. Waller. 63. Pastoral Love in Theocritus, &c. 64. In modern Dramas, &c. 65. Sculpture compared with Painting. 66. Forms appropriate to Sculpture. 67. Sculpturesque. 68. Grottesque. 69. Other distinct Characters, as 70. Classical. 71. Romantic. 72. Pastoral. 73. Commercial, Naval, Agricultural, &c. 74. The Pleasures, derived from all, belong to the. Mind and not to the Objects. 75. Uniformity and Regularity. 76. Irregularity and Mutilation. 77. As affecting general Characteristics or Mental Sympathies. 78. As differently perceived by the Mind or the Eye, 79. Mr. Price's Illustration. 80. His general Mistake of Ideas for Things. 81. Deceptions of Sexual and Social Sympathies. Mistatement. 82. Regularity and Irregularity in Features and Attitudes. CONTENTS. X! 83. Ease, Grace, Elegance, and Dignity of Gesture and Attitude. 84. Belong to Character and Expression, and not to particular Lines and Forms. 85. In inanimate as well as animal Bodies. 86. Dignity and Elegance, wherein different. 87. Dancing. 88. Grace of Savages. 89. Of the Greeks. 90. Lines of Grace. 91. Spiral Columns, scooped Pediments, &c. 92. Regularity in Architecture. 93. In Gardening. 94. Clumps and Canals. Terraces and Borders. 95. Composition in Houses, Offices, and Plantations. 96. Hanging Terraces. gj. Irregularity in Architecture. 98. Exemplified. 99. Trick and Affectation in Houses. 100. In Lodges, Cottages, Gateways, Sec. ici. Mixed Architecture. 102. Situations. 103. Sir John Vanbrugh. 104. Mr. Brown. 105. Made Water. 106. Walks. 107. Smallness of Size. 108. In Women. In Animals or other Objects. 109. Gradual Diminution or Tapering. 110. General Rules. 111. In Morals. 112. Affections. Abstract Principles. 113. Their Effects. 114. Whether negative or affirmative.. Sli fcoNTENTS. 115. In Taste and Manners. 116. Academies, their Effect on Ait. 117. Accounted for. 118. Mechanical and liberal Arts, their Difference, 119. Feeling, Sentiment, and Science in Painting. 120. In Sculpture. 121. Public Schools of Rhetoric ; their Effect on the Latin Language. 122. Freedom of Study ; its Effect on the Greek. 123. On the English. 124. Instanced in Dr. Blair's Criticism on a Passage of Pope. 325. Criticism examined. 126. The Passage justified by others, from Euripides and Shakespeare. 127. Theoretical Criticism in general. CHAP. III. OF JUDGMEiNT. 1. Judgment ; in what it consists. 2. Reason, as applied to Taste. 3. Demonstration and Analogy. 4. Laws of Nature. 5. In Matters of Demonstration ; in Matters of Belief. 6. Use of the Distinction. 7. 8. Illustrated by Instances. 9. Aristotle's Opinion examined. 10. Probability in Epic Fiction. U. In Dramatic. 12, 13. Oratory. 14. Acting. 15. Epic and Dramatic License in Fiction; their Difference. CONTENTS. ■ Xlll 16. Poetical Probability. 17. Unities of Time and Place. 18. Of Action. 19. Action, and Subject or Cause of Aclion; their Difference. 20. Exemplified. 2i. In the Tragedy of Macbeth. 22. In the Iliad. 23. Both compared. 24. Unity of Subject. 25. Tragi-comedy. 26. Dramatic not to be judged by Epic Style. 27. Effect of Style on Probability of Fiction. 28. Of gradual Elevation and Exaggeration. 29. Of circumstantial Minuteness. .30. Mixture of Truth in the Iliad. 31. In the Productions of all unpolished Nations. Ossian. 32. Odyssey. Gulliver's Travels. 33. Novel of Clarissa Harlowe. 34. Politeness or good Breeding ; in Language. 35. In Dress and Demeanor. 36. Its Principles. 37. Permanent Principles and fluctuating Modes 38. General and individual Nature. 39. Allegorical Personages ; Limits of Fiction. 40. In Epic and Dramatic Poetry. 41. In Painting. 42. Symbolical Figures. 43. Of Deities. 44. From Poetry, particularly the Iliad. Uniformity of Design among the Greeks. 45. Truth of Expression. The Laocoon. 46. Michael Augelo. XIV CONTENTS. 47. Extravagance in Invention. 48. Truth in Action and Gesture. Greek Artist*. Michael Angelo. 49. Reasons for his Deviation from it. Abstract Form. 50. Character and Expression of Form. 51. Raphael's Vision of Ezekiel. Salvator Rosa's Witch of Endor. 52. Titian, Rubens, Rembrandt. 53. Difference of Character between Sculpture and Painting. 54. Similar to that between Epic and Dramatic Poetry. 55. Homeric Heroes, how far suited to the Stage. 56. Reasons for Horace's recommending them. His Character of Achilles examined. 57. Ulysses of Euripides, and iEneas of Virgil. 58. Judgment of Virgil. 59. His peculiar Excellence. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS, p. 3 15. CHAP. I. OF THE SUBLIME AND PATHETIC. j. Sympathy. 2. Semblance of Truth. 3. Mr. Burke's Opinion. 4. Examined as to ' 5. Fiction and Reality. 6. Degrees of Sympathy. Romans. Asiatics. 7. Sympathies with Exertion, not with Suffering, please. 8. Roman Mime of Laureolus. 9. Fights of Gladiators. jo. Cruelties of the Americans to their Captives. CONTENTS. XV 11. Attending Executions. 12. Stoic Opinion of the Deity. 12)- Passive and Active Fortitude. Combats; Cock- fighting ; Bull-baiting ; and Boxing. 34. Tragedy and Comedy ; their radical Difference. 15. Dramatic Distress always known to be fictitious. 16. Terror and Pity. 17. Longinus's Opinion. Ecstacy. 18. Selfish Sufferings not tragic. 19. Energetic Passions sublime. 20. Rapture. Enthusiasm. Love. 21. Hatred. Malignity. 22. Fortitude. The Laocoon. 23. Sculpture and Poetry ; their comparative Influ- ence on the Passions. 24. Acting and Reading. 25. Energies of Reason and Passion. Cato. Achilles. 26. Passion in 1*06 try may be too reasonable. 27. Madness. Folly. Perverted Energy. Weakness. 28. Morality of Tragedy. 29. Fake Terrors of Horace, what. 30. No Terror felt at Dramatic Exhibitions. 31. Pity melting the Mind to Love. 32. Only when S} T mpathy is with Energies of Mind. 33. Active and Passive Courage. 34. Weakness. False Delicacy. 35. Timidity. Modesty. 36. Pliability. Stubbornness. Themistocles. 37. Tenacity in Trifles. 38. Sublime and Pathetic, how connected ; both energetic. Macbeth. 39. Otway's Venice Preserv'd. Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. 40. Achilles. XVI CONTENTS. 41. Pathetic must be sublime. 42. Extreme Suffering. Horror. 43. Selfish Passions. 44. Distress remote from Self. Milton's Satan. 45. Remembrances of past Sufferings. 46. Power. 47. Infinity. Extent. Vastness. 48. Magnificence. Richness. Splendor, 49. Darkness. Vacuity. Silence. 50. Storms. Earthquakes. Volcanos, &,c, 51. Power and Terror. 52. Passage of Virgil. 53. of Lucretius. 54. Superstition and Enthusiasm. 55. Their Principles in common Observation. 56. Plague. Pestilence. Famine. Discord, &c. 57. Terror in the Character of Achilles. 58. Augmentatives and emphatical Expletives de- rived from Terror. 59. Pain and Terror not Sources of the Sublime, 60. Mr. Burke's Philosophy on the Subject. 61. Not clearly understood by himself. 62. Leads to Materialism. 63. His progressive Scale of the Sublime, 64. Contrary in its Principles to the System of Lon- ginus and all others known, 65. Considered in its different Graduations of Re- spect, Awe. 66. Astonishment and Terror, as applicable to him- self. 6j. Deduction from it. 68. Treatise on Oriental Gardening ; Experiments tried. 69. Others proposed. CONTENTS. XVII 70. Noxious and Innocent ; Tame and Wild Ani- mals. Game Cock. 71. Dog. 72. Ulysses's Dog. 73. Destroying and preserving Powers compared, as to Energy. 74. — as to the Effect of that Energy in the Sublime. 75. Description and Reality compared. 76. Illustrated by Virgil's Bees, and 77. By Homer's Moor Fowl. 78. Acquired Tastes. 79. Passage of Horace explained. 80. Mr. Burke's Opinion of Description examined. 81. Obscurity. Things distinct and Things deter- minate. 82. Energies. Images. Virgil's forging of the Thunderbolts. Homer's Girdle of Venus. 83. Consequences of Obscurity being thought su- blime. 84. Impassioned Modes of Speech. Ideas. Ossian. 85. Sound Sense and Mental Energy in Character. 86. — in Description. 87. Enthusiastic Language. Heroic Style. 88. Lyric Style. Pindar. Sophocles. Gray. 89. Milton's Imagery sometimes obscure ; not so in the Instance quoted by Mr. Burke. 90. Where really so, faulty. Instance. 91. Influence of Authority. 92. Images limited ; Mental Energies not. 93. Instances and Illustrations. 94. Exceptions. 95. Comparative Influence of Music on the Passions. 96. Fabulous Stories concerning it. b xviii CONTENTS. gy. Homeric Music. 98. Fanciful Theories. CHAP. I. OF THE RIDICULOUS. 1. Laughter; its Nature and Causes. 2. Comedy as opposed to Tragedy, in Manners. 3. In the Passions. 4. In Attitude and Countenance. Raphael. Rem- brandt. 5. Wit, as opposed to Judgment ; as exciting Mirth. 6. Ludicrous, as opposed to subiime Imagery. 7. Humour. 8. Parodies. 9. Incongruities in Dress, Deportment, and Dialect. 10. Mimicry. 11. Good Nature and Good Humour, wherein dif- ferent. 12. Sympathy in Joy. Contrast. 13. Selfish Passions ludicrous. 14. Morality of Comedy, in the prudential Concerns of Life. 15. In Love and Marriage. 16. In the domestic relations of Parent and Child, &c. 17. More immoral than Tragedy, but equally inef- fective. CHAP. III. OF NOVELTY. 1 . All unvaried Continuity tires. 2. Change, therefore, necessary. 3. The Cause of corrupt Taste. In Literature, 4. In Art. 5. Abuse of Words, CONTENTS. XIX 6. Artists and Authors : how far the Corruptors of, or corrupted by the Public Taste. 7. Art and Dress connected, but not Literature. 8. Instances and Illustrations. 9. Perfection from the same Source as Corruption. Michael Angelo and Bernini. Ariosto and Marino. 10. Excess of Ornament and false Brilliancy. 11. From unfair Comparison, and 12. The natural Progress of Speech. 13. Novelty and Contrast the Principles of orna- mental Gardening, as hitherto practised. 14. In China. 15. In England. 16. Intricacy and Variety. 17. Curiosity. The Marvellous, 3 8. Surprize. Progress of Fiction. lp. Horrible Stories and Events. 20. Avowed Fiction. Novels. 21. Their Effects on the Understanding. 22. On Temper and Disposition. C3. On Morals and Behaviour. 24. On Religion. 25. Their relation to Comedy. 26. Moral Effects of all Narrative and Dramatic Fiction weak. 27. Self-Importance of Poets, Painters, &c. 28. How far they are really useful to Society. 29. Erroneous Estimates of Life and Manners. 30. Causes of Disgust between the Sexes. 31. The most trivial most effective. 32. In other Objects. Mental Pleasure and Pain. 33. Knowledge and Ignorance. 34. Their moral Effects. XX CONTENTS. 35. Love of Life and Fear of Death. Habitual At- tachments. 36. Love of Property. 37. Sensuality, Prodigality, or false Generosity. 38. Desire of perpetuating Property. 39. Perpetual Imprisonment. 40. Real Principle of Happiness. PRINCIPLES OF TASTE. INTRODUCTION. — SVTL os roig su7ro^vcrai @8?m(ji,evoi$ Trgovfya to diaTrogYitrou xz7\co$' yi yap iiars^ov iviro^a. "kvo-\$ rcov tt^ote^uv coto^xiKivm earn. Aristot. Metaphys. Lib. III. C.i. 1. TASTE is a subject upon which it might naturally be supposed that all mankind would agree ; since all know instinctively what pleases, and what displeases them; and, as the organs of feeling and perception appear to be the same in the whole species, and only differing in degrees of sensibility, it should naturally follow that all would be pleased or displeased more or less, according to those different de- grees of sensibility, with the same objects. 2. This is, however, so far from being the case, that there is scarcely any subject, upon which men differ more than concerning the ob- jects of their pleasures and amusements: and this difference subsists, not only among indivi- duals, but among ages and nations ; almost every generation accusing that which immediately preceded it, of bad taste in building, furniture, and dress ; and almost every nation having its B PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: own peculiar modes and ideas of excellence in these matters, to which it pertinaciously ad- heres, until one particular people has acquired such an ascendancy in power and reputation, as to set what is called the fashion ; when this fashion is universally and indiscriminately adopted upon the blind principle of imitation, and without any consideration of the dif- ferences of climate, constitution, or habits of life; and every one, who presumes to de- viate from it, is thought an odd mortal — a humourist void of all just feeling, taste, or elegance. This fashion continues in the full exercise of its tyranny for a few years or months; when another, perhaps still more whimsical and unmeaning, starts into being and deposes it: all are then instantly asto- nished that they could ever have been pleased, even for a moment, with any thing so taste- less, barbarous, and absurd. The revolutions in dress only, not to mention those in building, furnishing, gardening, &c. which have taken place within the last two centuries, afford ample illustration ; and it is not the least extraor- dinary circumstance in these revolutions, that they have been the most violent, sudden, and extravagant in the personal decorations of that part of the species; which, having most natural, has least need of artificial charms; which:. is always most decorated when least adorned ; INTRODUCTION. and which, as it addresses its attractions to the primordial sentiments and innate affections of man, would, it might reasonably be supposed, never have attempted to increase them by dis- tortion and disguise. Yet art has been wea- ried, and nature ransacked; tortures have been endured, and health sacrificed ; and all to enable this lovely part of the creation to ap- pear in shapes as remote as possible from that in which all its native loveliness consists, Only a few years ago, a beauty equipped for conquest was a heterogeneous combination of incoherent forms, Avhich nature could never have united in one animal, nor art blended in one composition: it consisted of a head, dis- guised so as to resemble that of no living creature, placed upon an inverted cone, the point of which rested upon the centre of the curve of a semieliptic base, more than three times the diametre of its own. Yet, if high- dressed heads, tight-laced stays, and wide hoops, had not been thought really ornamental, how came they to be worn by all who could afford them? Let no one imagine that he solves the question by saying, that there have been errors in taste, as there have been in reli- gion and philosophy: for the cases are totally different ; religion and philosophy being mat- ters of belief, reason, and opinion; but taste being a matter of feeling, so that whatever was PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: really and considerately thought to be orna- mental must have been previously felt to be so: and though opinions may, by argument or demonstration, be proved to be wrong, how shall an individual pretend to prove the feel- ings of a whole age or nation wrong, when the only just criterion which he can apply to ascer- tain the rectitude of his own, is their congruity with those of the generality of his species ? 3. Is there then no real and permanent prin- ciple of beauty? No certain or definable com- binations of forms, lines, or colours, that are in themselves gratifying to the mind, or pleasing to the organs of sensation ? Or are we, in this respect, merely creatures of habit and imi- tation; directed by every accidental impulse, and swayed by every fluctuation of caprice or fancy ? It will be said perhaps, in reply, that we must not found universal scepticism in oc- casional deviations, or temporary irregularities: for, though absurd and extravagant fashions have, at intervals, prevailed in all ages, and, in later times, succeeded each other with little interruption ; yet there are certain standards of excellence, which every generation of ci- vilized man, subsequent to their first produc- tion, has uniformly recognized in theory, how variously soever they have departed from them in practice. Such are the precious remains of Grecian sculpture; which afford standards of INTRODUCTION. real beauty, grace, and elegance in the human form, and the modes of adorning it, the truth and perfection of which have never been ques- tioned, although divers other modes of produc- ing and exhibiting those qualities have since prevailed in different ages and countries. The superiority, however, of ,these pure and fault- less models has been invariably recognized by all ; so that the vicious extravagancies and cor- ruptions, which temporary and local fashions introduced and maintained, were tacitly and indirectly condemned even by those who most obstinately persevered in practising and encou- raging them. 4. But is it certain that this condemnation was sincere ? and are not men's real feelings and inclinations to be judged of more by their practice than their professions? Established authority, both in literature and art, is so im- posing, that few men have courage openly to revolt against it, and renounce all allegiance ; though they may . tacitly secede from its con- troul, and let their own taste and inclination govern them entirely in their practice : and that, too, by the force of habit, in a manner, and to a degree imperceptible to themselves. When we find every florid and affected rheto- rician, who has successively contributed to the corruption of Greek, Latin, and English elo- quence, applauding, in quaint phraseology and B 3 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: epigrammatic point, the simple purity of Xe- nophon, Cassar, and Swift; and condemning in others the very style which he employs, we can scarcely believe that he knew, at the time of writing, how widely the taste, which he had acquired by habit, differed from the judgment which he exercised under the influence of au- thority. Both Michel Angelo and Bernini were enthusiastic in their admiration, or at least in their applauses, of the Grecian style of sculpture ; but nevertheless Michel Angelo and Bernini were, in opposite ways, the great corruptors of this pure style; the one having expanded it into the monstrous and extrava- gant, and the other sunk it into effeminacy and affectation. The late Sir Joshua Reynolds expressed, throughout his life, the most un- qualified admiration for the works of Michel Angelo; while both in his writings and con- versation he affected to undervalue those of Rembrandt, though he never attempted to imitate the former, but formed his own style of colouring and execution entirely from the latter ; for whose merits he had the justest feel- ins, while he had none at all for those of the other, as his own collection abundantly proved ; for the pictures which it contained of the Dutch master were all genuine and good, while those attributed to the Florentine were spurious and below criticism. His feeling was just, though 3 INTRODUCTION. his judgment was wrong; and so' far he was the reverse of Michel Angelo and Bernini, whose judgment was true while their feelings were false. As the vices, however, of both these celebrated artists were more enthusi- astically admired, in their respective ages, than ever the merits of either Rembrandt or Rey- nolds were, it may reasonably be doubted whe- ther they dictated to, or complied with, the taste of their contemporaries : either suppo- sition equally favours the sceptical side of the question concerning any real and permanent principles of taste. 5. In judging, however, of the works of Na- ture, it must be owned that there appears to have been less inconstancy ; the beauties of particular kinds of trees, plants, flowers, and animals, having, I believe, been universally re- cognized in all ages and all countries: but, over these, it must be remembered that the power of man is more limited, nor can he in- dulge those partial and extravagant caprices of his taste, which he has so abundantly displayed in the productions of his own art and labour. As far, however, as he has been able, he has done it most profusely. At one time he crops the tail and ears of his dogs and horses; and, at another, forces them to grow in forms and directions, which nature never intended : his trees and shrubs are planted in fantastic lines, 15 4 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: or shorn into the shapes of animals or imple- ments; and all for the sake of beauty. Hap- pily for the poor animals, it has never appeared possible to shear or twist them iriio the shapes of plants, or it would, without doubt, have been attempted; and we should have been as much delighted at seeing a stag terminating in a yew tree, as ever we were at seeing a yew tree terminating in a stag. These metamor- phoses of plants are not now, indeed, in fashion : but it is merely fashion that has ex- ploded them; and as both fashions have had their respective admirers, not only among the vulgar, but among the most discerning and enlightened of mankind*, it may reasonably be doubted, whether either of them be at all con- sonant to the real principles of beauty, if any such there be. That however must be the sub- ject of inquiry. * Quid enim illo quiacunce speciosius est, qui in quam- cunque partem spectaveris, rectus est. Quinctil. lib. viii. c. iii. See also Montesquieu, Fragm. sur le Gout. Addison, Spectator, No. -ill; where he states, as a general posi- tion, that, " though there are several wild scenes, that are more delightful than any artificial shows, yet we find the works of Nature still more pleasant, the more they resemble those of art," which he endeavours to account for philosophically. His natural feelings, however, soon rise up against his acquired opinions; and, towards the close of the same paper, he adds, " I do not know whe- INTRODUCTION. 6. The word Beauty is a general term of approbation, of the most vague and extensive meaning, applied indiscriminately to almost every thing that is pleasing, either to the sense, the imagination, or the understanding ; what- ever the nature of it be, whether a material substance, a moral excellence, or an intellectual theorem. We do not, indeed, so often speak of beautiful smells, or flavours, as of beautiful forms, colours, and sounds ; but, nevertheless, we apply the epithet to a problem, a syllogism, or a period, as familiarly, and (as far as we can judge from authority) as correctly as to a rose, a landscape, or a woman. We speak also, and, I believe, with equal propriety, not only of the beauties of symmetry and arrangement, but of those of virtue, charity, holiness, &c. The illustrious author, indeed, of the Inquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful, chooses to consider such expressions as improper, and to confine beauty to the sensible qualities of ther I am singular in my opinion; but, for my own part, I would rather look upon a tree in all its luxuriancy and diffusion of boughs and branches, than when it is thus cut and trimmed into a mathematical figure; and cannot but fancy that an orchard in flower looks infinitely more de- lightful than all the little labyrinths of the most finished parterre." This was bold scepticism for so cautious a writer in that age. JO PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: things*. But, as an ancient grammarian ob- served, even Caesar, though he could command the lives and fortunes of men, could not com- mand words, nor alter, in a single instance, the customary idiom of speech; and in this instance customary idiom has established these expres- sions, not only in the English, but in all the other polished languages of Europe, both ancient and modern; xxXos in the Greek, pulcher in the Latin, bello in the Italian, and beau in the French, being constantly applied to moral and intellectual, as well as to physical or material qualities f. It is in vain, therefore, for indi- viduals to dispute about their propriety or im- propriety; for, after all, the ultimate criterion must be common use — ■ Quern penes arbitrium est,et jus, et norma loquendi, and from which he, who chooses to depart, only makes his meaning less intelligible. * Part III. f. i. and ix. f This application of the word itaXo? has given being to a saint of signal celebrity in Sicily, and some parts of the south of Italy, called St. Calogero, the general patron of all medicinal baths, salubrious springs, excavated rocks, &c. and much distinguished for his miraculous cures of all chronical diseases. KaXo? yieavy corrupted in the later times of the Byzan- tine empire to xa?\oyepo<;, signified a monk or hermit; and it is in places inhabited or frequented by such persons, that we find the relics, or hear of the miracles of St. Calogero. INTRODUCTION. 11 7. It may be said, perhaps, that the epithet is used in a plain sense, when applied to objects of sensation ; and in a figurative one, when applied to objects of intellect : but no such distinction exists in fact; for, when applied to objects of sight or hearing, it is, in most in- stances, applied to qualities purely intellectual; such as composition, proportion, expression, fitness, &c. which perpetually distinguish the beautiful from the ugly in the same species; though often totally changed when applied to another species, and sometimes, when applied to a different class in the same species ; of both which instances will be given in the sequel. It is true that all epithets, employed to distin- guish qualities perceivable only by intellect, were originally applied to objects of sense : for as such objects are the primary subjects of thought and observation, the primary words in all languages belong to them; and are there- fore applied transitively, though not always figuratively, to objects of intellect or imagi- nation. That expression only is properly figu- rative which employs the image or idea of one thing to illustrate another: but when we speak of the beauty of virtue, we mean the pleasing result of well-balanced and duly proportioned affections ; and, when we speak of the beauty of the human form, we mean the pleasing re- sult of well-balanced and duly proportioned 12 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! limbs and features. In both instances the word is equally applied to the results of pro- portion, without reference to any other image ; and though, in the one, the general subject be mental, and in the other corporeal, the parti- cular object, in both, is an abstract idea, and consequently, purely intellectual ; nor is the expression more figurative in the one than in the other*. If we speak, indeed, of any indi- vidual human form, the idea is not abstract; but then it is complex: and of the ideas that compose it, those of colour only are imme- diately derived from the sense of sight ; the others being entirely the results of mental ope- ration, employing the evidence of other senses; as has been abundantly shewn by Locke, Reid, and other metaphysical writers ; and as will be further explained in the course of this inquiry. 8. I admit, however, that the word Beauty entirely changes its meaning with every com- plete or generic change of its application: that is, accordingly as it is applied to objects of the * H crf/XjMET£ta nroiv jxtXuv f^trat, rri<; tv^oioc^ to KocXKot; wojej rtf crw^asTo?. Gregor. Nyssen. orat. de anima. KaX^o? tfi to ev rv cvvviati ruv yuXuv ivx^fj-orov, tirot^Uffcci avrcii itiv %ccpui s%ov. Basil. Ca?s. in xhv. KaXXo? ■vj/vj^s to x«t ugiTriv av^^ir^ov. Id. in Isai. c. v. K«Xo? xayaSo? — liktut; a7rovocno<;, iiv\ ya.g T>i? «££t»js To kccKh Hon ccyxSov Kiyxviv. Aristot. eS»k. ja.iv. lib. ii. C. ix. INTRODUCTION. 13 seqses, the imagination, or the understanding ; for, though these faculties are so mixed and compounded in their operations, in the com- plicated mind of civilized man, that it is ex- tremely difficult to discriminate them accurately; yet the pleasures of each, though mixed in their effects, are utterly distinct in their causes. 9. Perfect heauty, indeed, taking perfect in its most Ltrict, and beauty in its most compre- hensive signification, ought to be equally pleas- ing to all; but of this instances are scarcely to be found : for, as to taking them, or, indeed, any examples for illustration, from the other sex of our own species, it is extremely falla- cious; as there can be little doubt that all male animals think the females of their own species the most beautiful productions of Na- ture. At least, we know this to be the case among the different varieties of men, whose respective ideas of the beauty of their females are as widely different as those of man, and any other animal, can be. The sable Africans view with pity and contempt the marked de- formity of the Europeans; whose mouths are compressed, their noses pinched, their cheeks shrunk, their hair rendered lank and flimsy, their bodies lengthened and emaciated, and their skins unnaturally bleached by shade and seclusion, and the baneful influence of a cold 14 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: humid climate *. Were they to draw an image of female perfection, or a goddess of love and beauty, she would have a broad flat nose, high cheeks, woolly hair, a jet black skin, and squat thick form, with breasts reaching to her navel. To us imagination can scarcely present a more disgusting mass of deformity ; but perhaps at Tomboctoo the fairest nymph of St. James's, who, while she treads the mazes of the dance, displays her light and slender form through transparent folds of muslin, might make the • See Park's Journey to the Niger. A Birman de- scribing a very ugly race of people to Captain Symes, the English ambassador, mentioned white teeth as a principal characteristic of their ugliness; the inhabitants of that empire, like those of many other countries of the East, staining their teeth black. — Voyage to Ava, c. x. p. 264. Mr. Hearne, who resided more than twenty years among the nations of the frozen regions of North Ame- rica, says, " Ask a northern Indian what is beauty, he will answer, a broad flat face, small eyes, high check bones, three or four black lines across each cheek, a low forehead, a large broad chin, a clumsy hook nose, a taicny hide, and breasts hanging down to the belt." The same people were so far from thinking the white- ness of an European skin at all conducive to beauty, that it only excited in them the disgusting idea of dead flesh sodden in water till all the blood and juices were ex- tracted. — Journey from Hudson's Bay to the Northern Ocean, &c. p. 88 and 122. See various other opposite opinions on this subject, cited by Buffon, Hist. Nat. t. ii. p. 555. INTRODUCTION. 15 same impression ; and who shall decide which party is right, or which is wrong ; or whether the black or white model be, according to the laws of nature, the most perfect specimen of a perfect woman ? The late great physiologist, John Hunter, used to maintain (and I think he proved it), that the African black was the true original man, and all the others only different varieties derived from him, and more or less debased or improved. If so, what more infallible criterion can there be for judging of the natural taste and inclination of mankind, than the unsophisticated sentiments of the most natural and original of the species? We can neither weigh nor -measure the results of feeling or sentiment ; and can only judge whe- ther they are just and natural, or corrupt and artificial, by comparing them with the general laws of nature ; that is, with the general deduc- tions, which we make from the particular ope- rations of nature, which fall under our obser- vation : for of the real laws of nature we know nothing; these deductions amounting to no more than rules of analogy of our own form- ing ; by which, we judge of the future by the past, and form opinions of things, which we do not know, by things which we do. 10. It was, probably, from observing this marked difference, and even direct opposition of tastes, in matters which affect the primary ]6 PRINCIPLES of taste: and innate sentiments of man, that an acute and ingenious sceptic has ventured to assert, that all beauty is merely ideal and imaginary, and not in any case an inherent quality in external objects. " Beauty,"' says Mr. Hume, " is no " quality in things themselves : it exists merely " in the mind, which contemplates them, and " each mind perceives a different beauty. One " person may even perceive deformity where " another is sensible of beauty; and every in- " dividual ought to acquiesce in his own senti- " ment, without pretending to regulate those of " others. To seek the real beauty or real de- " formity is as fruitless an inquiry, as to pretend " to ascertain the real sweet or real bitter. Ac- " cording to the disposition of the organs the " same object may be both sweet and bitter ; " and the proverb has justly determined it to " be fruitless to dispute concerning tastes. It is " very natural, and even quite necessary, to ex- " tend this axiom to mental as well as bodily " taste ; and thus common sense, which is often " at variance with philosophy, especially with the " sceptical kind, is found, in one instance at least, " to agree in pronouncing the same decision. " Whether this subtle philosopher has not, like many others, applied the analogy of sexual sym- pathy to things beyond its reach, and made his negative axiom too general, will, perhaps, ap- pear in the following inquiry. At present I INTRODUCTION. 17 shall only remark, that the illustration, which he emplovs, of the confused sensations of mor- bid or vitiated organs, is quite unfair. To every sound and uncorrupted palate, sugar is sweet, and gall bitter ; and though they may not be so to an individual labouring under disease, yet the exception is of that kind, which confirms instead of invalidating the ge- neral principle of discrimination. Even per- sons of the most vitiated palates, though they may prefer bitter to sweet, still agree in call- ing sweet, sweet, and bitter, bitter; and those who, through disease, find bitter in every thing, have the bitter really in their mouths, mixed M'ith the saliva, and consequently in- corporated with every thing that they taste. The African, who prefers a black complexion to a white one, perceives that it is black as clearly as we do; and black has the same ana- logy with darkness, in his eyes, as in ours, and consequently makes a similar impression, not- withstanding that it embellishes the charms, and increases the attractions, of his mistress. ll. The sexual desires of brutes are pro- bably more strictly natural inclinations, and less changed or modified by the influence of acquired ideas, or social habits, than those of any race of mankind ; but their desires seem, in general, to be excited by smell, rather than by sight or contact. If, however, a boar can C 18 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: think a sow the sweetest and most lovely of living creatures, we can have no difficulty in believing that he also thinks her the most beau- tiful : for the sense of smell is much more impartial, and less liable to be influenced or perverted by mental sympathies, than that of sight; there being no communications of thought or sentiment from one mind to another (at least among human creatures) by the nose, as there are by the eyes. 12. The sense of taste is equally impartial; being equally unconnected with, and unin- fluenced by, the higher faculties of the mind : it is also the first that is employed in preserv- ing life by selecting nourishment; and that which hath consequently given a name to that rule or criterion of just exertion in all the rest, which is the subject of the present inquiry : wherefore I shall examine it first ; and, after comparing it with those of its two kindred organs of smell and touch, in order to ascer- tain the principles of sensation in general, pro- ceed to the examination of the remaining two, whose objects are the proper objects of taste in the more general sense of the word, as used to signify a general discriminative faculty aris- ing from just feeling and correct judgment implanted in the mind of man by his Creator, and improved by exercise, study, and medi- tation. [ 19 ] PART I. OF SENSATION. CHAPTER I. OF TASTE. J. The organs of taste, considered merely as the faculty of distinguishing flavours, are the lips, the tongue, and the palate, whose sensibility is preserved by a fluid, with which they are constantly moistened ; and which is consequently a medium of communication for every thing applied to them. 2. If any quantity of any other fluid of ex- actly the same quality and temperature be received into the mouth, it will produce no other sensation than that of pressure ; that is, it will merely cause itself to be perceived by its gravitation upon the extremity of the nerves, without otherwise altering the mode or degree of their action. This is the first and simplest kind of sensation ; for unless there be some gratification of a want, such as thirst, the per- ception is merely of contact. 3. But let the liquid, so received, be im- pregnated with salt, with sugar, with acid, or c 2 %0 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*. any other extraneous matter ; or let it be of a greater or less degree of warmth; and its im- pression will not be mere contact, but will produce a change in the mode or degree of action in the nerves ; by which we perceive its flavour. I say a change in the mode or de- gree of action ; because the commencement of a new sensation is never from absolute inac- tion ; all the organic parts of animal bodies, and many of those of vegetables, being irri- table ; and a certain degree of irritation being always kept up in the former by the mere sti- mulus of the blood, or by the necessary ope- ration of vital warmth and motion. 4. This irritation may be either increased or diminished by external impressions, accord- ingly as they are stimulant or narcotic ; or its modes may be changed according to the dif- ferent qualities of the substances applied : but how these changes take place, or what those different modes are, by which we discriminate such an infinite variety of different flavours, smells, tones, colours, &c. is beyond the reach of human faculties to discover. All that v;e know is, that certain modes of irritation pro- duce sensations, which are pleasant, and others, sensations which are unpleasant; that there must be a certain degree of it to produce either ; and that, beyond a certain degree, all are painful. If the irritation be too weak, the PART T. SENSATION". effect is insipidity or flatness: — if it be too btrong, it is pain or uneasiness. 5. The effect, however, of the same things on different individuals varies according to the different degrees of irritability in their organs ; from which their sensibility arises : — it also varies in the same individual, as he advances from infancy to maturity; and from maturity to decay. Very young children are almost always fond of pure sweet ; but as the palate grows adult, it requires some mixture of acid or bitter to vary it, and give it pungency, or it becomes vapid and disgusting. 6. These mixt flavours continue ever after to be most grateful ; and it is in mixing and preparing them in the ways best adapted to excite and prolong appetite by stimulating the organs, that all the arts subservient to gluttony consist. Nature, however, has anticipated most of these arts, and rendered them super- fluous further than as they tend to assist and vary her operations ; for we must not imagine that the food, which we call simple, is in re- ality so : all the fruits, herbs, and meats, on which we feed being composed of many simple elements, blended and tempered by Nature with a delicacy and exactitude, which art can but feebly imitate. By the variation and suc- cession of the seasons, too, we are supplied with all that variety, which, if not necessary to c 3 21 £2 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE'. health, is certainly requisite to pleasure; at least to that of sense; as none can last long without it; there being scarcely any sensations but such as are too violent to be pleasant, that will not, by being very frequently repeated, or very long continued, become so familiar, as to be no longer sensations but mere habits of existence. The organs, by being continually subjected to the same impression, become assi- milated and adapted to it, so that the action of the nerves excited by it- becomes a sort of spon- taneous motion ; the irritation being little more perceived or noticed, than that caused by the action of the blood, or the natural operation of any other internal stimulus. Hence we na- turally seek for some new impression, that may restore that pleasure, which we originally felt from this sensation, which has thus become stale and vapid. 7. If this desire of change be indulged to excess, men soon begin to require an increase in the degree, as well as variation in the mode, of irritation; whence arises that vicious appetite for strong odours, relishing food, and stimulant liquors, which, if once suffered to prevail, always increases in a constant, and regularly accelerated progression; till at length things, naturally the most nauseous, become most grateful ; and things, naturally most grateful, most insipid. PART I. SENSATION. 23 8. This extreme effect, however, only takes place where the palate has become morbid and vitiated by continued, and even forced, gra- tification ; and even then the metaphors taken from this sense, and employed to express in- tellectual qualities, show that it is always felt and considered as a corruption, even by those who are most corrupted : for though there are many, who prefer port wine to malmsey, and tobacco to sugar, yet no one ever spoke of a sour or bitter temper, as pleasant, or of a sxceet one, as unpleasant. 9- Yet the pleasures derived from these vitiated tastes seem to be more exquisite, than any derived from nature : for, when men have once acquired them, they are more constant in the indulgence of them, and find greater diffi- culty in dispensing with the gratification, after they have been used to it. No one, past the age of childhood, has ever found any perma- nent pleasure in sucking sugar-candy ; but how many do we see, to whom the chewing or smoking of tobacco has become an habitual, and even an indispensable gratification. Ottar of roses and other sweet scents are only occa- sionally applied to the nose ; and, if used too frequently, cloy and satiate : but the use of snuff becomes a permanent and constant habit. 10. The case is, that all those tastes, which are natural, lose, and all those which are un- c 4 24 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: natural, acquire strength by indulgence : for no strained or unnatural action of the nerves can ever be so assimilated to their constitu- tional modes of existence, as not to produce, on every re-application of its cause, a change sufficient to excite a pleasing irritation; which, those that are natural and gentle cease by degrees to do ; since, by uninterrupted conti- nuance for any long time, they become blended and confounded with those, which belong to the vital .motion and constitutional existence of the organ. A man may inhale air impregr nated with ottar of roses, or other sweet scents, till he no longer perceives that it is impreg- nated ; as we often find to be the case with those who live in perfumers' shops: but no one can inhale air mixed with effluvia of assa- fetida or tobacco without perceiving it, unless his olfactory nerves have totally lost their sen- sibility. 11. It is to be observed, however, that a great part of the pleasure, arising from the use of bitter and nauseous drugs, and fermented liquors, arises from their exhilarating and in- toxicating qualities : but these belong to another branch of our inquiry, and shall be examined in the proper place. PART I. SEXSATION. 25 CHAPTER II. OF SMELL. 1. What has been said of tastes may, in almost every instance, be applied with equal propriety to smells ; which are caused by the finer particles of bodies being dissolved in the air, which we inhale, and borne by it through the nostrils to the olfactory nerves ; as tastes are caused by the same finer particles being diluted in the saliva, and conveyed with it to the palate and other organs of the mouth. The pleasures and pains of each seem to depend on similar modes and degrees of irritation : but, in mankind, to be more limited in their extent, in the sense of smelling, than in that of tasting. 2. In some kinds of animals, however, the sense of smell seems to be connected with cer- tain mental sympathies ; as those of hearing and sight are in all that possess them in any high degree : for not only their sexual desires appear to be excited by means of it ; but other instinctive passions, which, according to the usual system of nature, should be still more remote from its influence. It has been ob- served that dogs, though wholly unacquainted with lions, will tremble and shudder at their roar ; and an elephant, that has never seen a *6 PRINCIPLES OF taste: tiger, will, in the same manner, show the strongest symptoms of horror and affright at the smell of it. The late Lord Clive exhi- bited a combat between two of these animals at Calcutta: but the scent of the tiger had such an effect upon the elephant, that nothing could either force or allure him to go along the road, where the ca«;e, in which it was en- closed, had passed; till a gallon of arrack was given him; when, his horror suddenly turning to fury, he broke down the paling to get at his enemy, and killed him without difficulty. S. The excessive eagerness, which dogs ex- press on smelling their game, seems to be but little connected with the appetite for food, and wholly independent of any preconceived ideas of the objects of their pursuit being fit for it. Hence several kinds of them will not eat the game, which they pursue with such wild impe- tuosity; and of which the scent seems to ani- mate them to a degree of ecstasy, far beyond what the mere desire of food can produce. 4. Where blood has been shed, particularly that of their own species, oxen will assemble ; and, upon smelling it, roar and bellow, and show the most manifest symptoms of horror and distress. Yet these symptoms could not arise from any associated ideas of danger or death ; since they appear in them, that never had any opportunities of acquiring such ideas. PART I. SENSATION. 2? They must therefore be instinctive, like other innate antipathies and propensities; in which sensation appears to operate upon the passions and mental affections more immediately, than it is ever found to do in the human species. 5. An eminent author, who makes terror to be a principal source of the sublime, has thence conceived a notion (upon a principle, indeed, different from that here stated) of stinks being sublime ; though he acknowledges that he never could bring his mind to act in unison with his nose, so as to satisfy himself that he had really smelt a sublime stink. Through the medium of description, however, he has no doubt of the sentiment being excited by this sensation ; in proof of which he quotes a cele- brated passage of Virgil*. In this, however, as well as in many other instances, this truly great author has most unphilosophically mis- taken a power for a sensation : a mistake, for which no excuse can be made but the early period of life at which the Inquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful was written; and his having soon after, unfortunately for his peace of mind, abandoned himself to more active pur- suits, " and to party given up what was meant for mankind." But, nevertheless, at this early * Inquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful. Part II. i. xxi, 28 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! period, his feelings were generally right, even where his judgment was most wrong; so that he felt, though he did not know that, in the description, it is the power only, and in the reality, the sensation only, that affects the mind, or is at all perceived by it. But of this more hereafter : at present I shall merely ob- serve, in justice to his memory, that, in his latter days, he laughed very candidly and good- humouredly at many of the philosophical ab- surdities, which will be here exposed ; and I must add, in justice to myself, that I should not have thus undertaken to expose them, had they not been since adopted by others, and made to contribute so largely to the propaga- tion of bad taste ; of which instances will be given in the proper place. 6. In exciting the sexual desires of animals, the sense of smell seems to be no further con- cerned than in indicating their object; the real principles and incentives of their desires being certain internal stimuli, which operate perio- dically with a degree of violence far surpassing that of any other appetite. As in other in- stances, in which the other senses are con- cerned, the sensation excites the idea, and the idea excites the appetite. - > — turn saevus aper, turn pessima tigris: Heu ! male turn Libyae solis erratur in agris. PART I. SENSATION. 29 Nonne vides ut tota tremor pertentet equorum Corpora, si tantum notas odor adtulit auras ? Ac neque eos jam fraena virum. neque verbera sseva; JNon scopuli, rupesque cavee, atque objecta retardant Flnmina correptos unda torquentia montes. Geoegic III. 248. No sooner are these stimuli felt, than every thing else, even the preservation of their own existence, seems to be forgotten. Food is ne- glected ; dangers are encountered ; wounds are endured without appearing to be felt ; and all obstacles are borne down or surmounted : the timid become valiant ; and the valiant, furi- ously mad. SO PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: CHAPTER III. OF TOUCH. 1. The pleasures of touch, if we omit those arising from the communication of the sexes, are few beyond the variations of warmth and coolness; and even those few are extremely limited in their degree. The elegant author, indeed, before cited, has expatiated upon the gratifications of feeling smooth and undulating surfaces in general : but, I believe, these gra- tifications have. been confined to himself; and probably to his own imagination acting through the medium of his favourite system : for, except in the communication of the sexes, which affords no general illustration, and ought therefore to be kept entirely out of the question, I have never heard of any person being addicted to such luxuries ; though a feeling board would certainly afford as cheap and innocent a gra- tification, as either a smelling-bottle, a picture, or a flute, provided it were capable of afford- ing any gratification at all. 2. This notion of smoothness being beauty seems to have arisen, like many other erro- neous notions of the same kind, from the com- mon mistake of a particular sexual sympathy for a general principle. We all know how 11 PART I. SENSATION. 31 essential a smooth skin is to the charms of a desirable woman; and, as, in the other sex, whatever is desirable is commonly called beau- tiful, we naturally apply the same term to cor- respondent qualities in other objects, although they excite no similar sentiments or feelings. Those beauties, which owe their existence as beauties to sexual sympathies, are so much more powerful and efficient than any others, that they extend their influence, by means of trains of associated ideas, to a vast distance from its source : but, abstracted from such sympathies, the pleasures of this sense, if plea- sures they may be called, seem to arise from gentle irritation; which, if it be extended be- yond a certain degree, proportioned always to the sensibility of the part, becomes painful ; and as this sense of touch extends over the whole body, the pain, which it can endure, knows no limit but the termination of life; a limit, which enlarges the scale of corporeal pain far beyond that of corporeal pleasure. 3. The modes of irritation, which the touch, abstracted from the other senses, is capable of, are few ; since, strictly speaking, all are senses of touch; the impressions upon all being made by contact. There is, nevertheless, one mode of irritation belonging exclusively to the surface of particular parts of the body, which has so little analogy with any other 3£ rmxciPLF.s ol* taste: sensation, that it may almost be considered as a sense by itself. This is tickling, which pro- duces that unaccountable convulsion called laughter ; a sort of involuntary expression of joy or pleasure, which, when long continued, and carried to excess, becomes painful. It is peculiar, 1 believe, to the human race, and to the monkey species; though some other animals, such as horses, seem sensible of the sensation which produces it. A similar effect is pro- duced by the operation of certain trains of ideas upon the mind ; but this is never so vio- lent as to be painful. 4. This, indeed, is not the only instance of something like an internal sense of touch ; by means of which the conceptions of the mind operate upon the organs of the body involun- tarily and mechanically. It is observed by Sir Joshua Reynolds, that if a man born blind •were to recover his sight, and the most beau- tiful woman were brought before him, he could not determine whether she was hand- some, or not *. The justice of this remark I shall confirm in treating of vision, by reasons either not known to, or which did not occur to, the great artist, when he made it. At present, I shall only add this further remark, by way of corollary, that if a man, perfectly * Idler, No. 3. PART I. SENSATION. ' 33 possessed both of feeling and sight — conversant with, and sensible to, the charms of women, were even to be in contact with what he con- ceived to be the most beautiful and lovely of the sex ; and at the moment, when he was going to embrace her, he was to discover that the parts which he touched only were feminine or human ; and that, in the rest of her form, she was an animal of a different species, or a person of his own sex, the total and instanta- neous change of his sentiments from one ex- treme to another would abundantly convince him that his sexual desires depended as little Upon the abstract sense of touch, as upon that of sight. 5. Are these sexual desires, therefore, go- verned by any innate images or ideas, accord- ing to which the external impressions upon the organs of sense affect us one way or another ? Certainly not : for the doctrine of innate ideas has been so completely confuted and exploded, that no person in his senses can now entertain it ; but, nevertheless, there may be internal stimuli, which, though not innate, grow up constitutionally in the body ; and na- turally and instinctively dispose the desires of all animals to the opposite sex of their own spe- cies. Animal desire or want may exist without any idea of its object, if there be a stimulus to excite it ; so that a male, who had arrived D 34 1'KINCIPLES or taste: at maturity without knowing the existence of a female of his own species, might feel it, as a new-born child feels the want of food, without having any determinate notion of what was proper to gratify it. 6. Beauty of form and colour, which act, in these cases, through the medium of the ima- gination only, have nothing to do with this mere irritation of the nerves, whether it pro- ceed from internal or external stimuli; for this irritability extends in some instances to vege- table substances, which have no power of per- ception; but of which the organic parts are not only irritable, but require the touch of an insect or other extraneous body to render them effective in reproduction. 7. Many sorts of plants seem, in other re- spects, capable of sensation, as far as this power consists in the mere aptitude of the organs to receive impressions: but it does not appear that the impressions ever go further than the organs, which receive them ; and if they do not, it is evident that they can excite neither pleasure nor pain ; nor leave any traces or memorials behind them of any kind. The im- pressions, therefore, being unperceived, pro- duce only mechanical vibrations in the fibres, of which the sufferer is not conscious, and which, therefore, only differ in their cause or mode from those which impulse or attraction PART I. SENSATION. 35 excites in the component parts of metals : for though the impressions upon the external organs of sense are the primary causes of those sensa- tions, which imprint the ideas of them upon the mind; yet the perception of those sen- sations, and consequently the pleasures and pains arising from them, as well as the ideas which they imprint, are in the brain ; from which, if the organ be separated, though it may retain its irritability, and its apparent sensi- bility, for a considerable time, it will still be utterly incapable of sensation, and in exactly the same predicament as we have supposed the irritable organs of vegetables to be *. On the contrary, sensations, exactly resembling those produced by impressions on the external or- gans, will continue to be felt when the organ is no more ; it being common for a person, who has lost a limb, to imagine that he feels a pain in the extremity which has been ampu- * I am speaking only of animals whose organization is perfect, and analogous to our own. I know that butter- flies, wasps, &c. do appear to be sensible of pleasure or pain, and even live and linger for a long time after their heads are off; but then it does not appear that the heads of such animals contain any centre of organization or seat of life analogous to the brain in birds and quadru- peds. Many of the cold-blooded amphibious animals also retain life for a long time after the head has been separated from the body ; but if there be any sense of pain left, I should conceive it to be in the head only. D 2 36 PRINCIPLES of taste: tated ; that is, really to feel a pain, excited by some internal cause, similar to that which he had before felt in that extremity. 8. For this, as well as for many other rea- sons, it is evident that neither the sensations, nor the ideas imprinted by them, have any resemblance to the objects, or the qualities of objects, which have produced them ; but that the connection between them, howsoever spontaneous and immediate it may seem, is merely habitual, and the result of experience and observation *. Certain sensations con- stantly accompanying certain objects, we natu- rally and justly conceive those objects to be the cause of them ; and when impressions are made upon two or more different organs, by the same object, at the same time, the evi- dence of their being so is as strong and certain as any, that does not admit of demonstration, by comparative numbers and quantities, can be. I may have a pain in my hand, produced by some internal cause, so exactly resembling that produced by the puncture of a needle, or * See Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Reid, &c. Locke, indeed, with some hesitation excepted what he calls the primary qualities of bodies, such as figure, extension, &c, and admitted that the ideas of these were resemblances of them, (Essay on Human Understanding, Book II. c. viii.) but Berkeley and Hume found no difficulty in confuting him, and proving that these had no more similitude to their archetypes than any others. PART I. SENSATION. 37 the burning of a caustic, that, if I had no other sense, but that of feeling, I might not be able to distinguish the one from the other : but if I see the needle thrust into it, or the caustic applied to it, andfeel the pain to com- mence at the same instant, I naturally connect them as cause and effect; and, having once imprinted them as such in my memory, con- tinue to connect them ever afterwards. Nei- ther the needle, however, nor the puncture ; the caustic, nor the burning, have any re- semblance, either with the sensations felt or with the remembrances of them imprinted : but the evidence of two senses to one point becomes that of a parallax * ; and the force of it is * A parallax in astronomy is the difference between the relative situation of any heavenly body, as it is seen from the surface, and as it -would be seen from the centre of the earth : which difference, being ascertained by an angle, the base of which is half the earth's diametre, affords evidence of the real magnitude and distance of the body, to which the perpendicular of that angle extends. The term, though usually employed in astronomy, more properly belongs to optics; and may be equally applied to any visible object, which, by a variation of the point of sight, appears to vary its relative situation ; and the extent of such variation, being ascertained by similar means, will afford similar evidence concerning the object. The author should feel shame in thus obtruding expla- nations, which, to every reader of liberal education, must appear useless and impertinent, had not a whole synod of professed critics proclaimed their want of them, by petu- D S lastly 38 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: doubled with every repetition of the same sen- sation from the same external cause. 9. These remembrances, or retained percep- tions or notions, Des Cartes and Locke called ideas; a name borrowed from the Platonic philosophy, with which their followers Berke- ley and Hume contrived to subvert first the material, and then the intellectual world. Plato, indeed, had before attempted to sub- vert the former; or, at least, to render its foundations very insecure : for he too per- ceived that there was no resemblance between ideas and the material objects that they ap- pear to represent in the mind : but conclud- ing that these notions must be exact copies from some real existences, he derived them from the intellectual world ; whence the hu- man soul sprang, and where the eternal ideas, according to which the fleeting and changeable forms, which we see impressed upon gross mat- ter, remained immutable in the divine mind. All real knowledge, therefore, according to this philosopher, was innate ; and the improve- ment of it consisted in recovering and restor- ing the images, with which the soul had origi- nally been endowed, but which were buried and obscured in the opaque dross of matter. These images or ideas were not derived from lantly reproaching him with their own ignorance.— Edinb. Review, No. XIV. PART I. SENSATIOX. 39 any particular forms of substances, either here or elsewhere ; but all particular forms of sub- stances, together with our ideas of them, were derived from the general ideas of the intel- lectual world; so that a triangle was not a triangle, a square not a square, nor a circle a circle, because it had a particular material form, or relative dimensions ; but because it partook, in a certain degree, of the qualities of the immutable idea of triangularity, square- ness, or rotundity eternally exilting in the divine mind *. ]0. When men once renounce the evidence of their senses, either in believing or doubting, there is nothing wmich they may not believe or doubt with perfect consistency. If we can once persuade ourselves that, because ideas have no resemblance to their material objects, they may have arisen in the mind without them, we may certainly believe or disbelieve the ex- istence of those material objects, as we please : for our feelings and perceptions are certainly internal ; nor can we at all tell how they are connected with any thing external ; the mode of conveyance, between the organs of sense and those of perception, being beyond the reach of human discovery. That there is some mode of conveyance the constant recurrence • See Phaedon, et de Republica, lib, x, D 4 40 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*. of particular associations proves to the satis- faction of ordinary men : but if learned phi- losophers choose to doubt it, because it is not demonstrable, they mast doubt on. Scepti- cism has never attempted to make proselytes by fire or sword, and is therefore at least an innocent absurdity compared with its antago- nist bigotry. 1 1. All its wandering clouds of confusion and perplexity seem to have arisen from em- ploying the Greek word idea, sometimes in its proper sense to signify a mental image or vision, and sometimes in others the most ad- verse and remote, to signify perception, re- membrance, notion, knowledge, and almost every other operation, or result of operation, of which mind is capable. Of motion, for instance, in a particular object, we have a perception when we see or feel it move, and a remembrance afterwards: but of the motion of the earth, either on its axis or in its orbit, we have neither perception nor remembrance, but only a notion, acquired by comparative deductions from other perceptions : while of motion in general we have no particular per- ception, remembrance or notion ; but only general knowledge collected and abstracted from all. Of neither, however, have we any idea, if by idea be meant mental image or re- semblance : but, nevertheless, to infer from PART I. SENSATION*. 41 thence that #e have no adequate perception, hcmembrancc, notion, or knowledge either of motion or body, seems as adverse to sound philosophy as to common sense; there being no more reason why a notion should resemble a perception ; a perception, a sensation, or a sensation its object, than that an exert ion should resemble an arm; an arm, a lever; or a lever, a weight; nor is it less absurd to make the want of resemblance between the cause, the means, and the end, a ground for doubting the reality of either, in the one case, than in the other *. I could therefore wish to drop or modify the use of the word idea : but it has become too general and established for an individual to attempt it;, and I have only to intreat the reader to keep these distinctions in his mind, and apply them occasionally. 12. Among the pleasures of sense, more particularly among those belonging to touch, there is a certain class, which, though arising from negative causes, are nevertheless real and positive pleasures : as when we gradually sink from any violent or excessive degree of action or irritation into a state of tranquillity and re- • Since the above was written, a very able and elo- quent advocate of tbe ideal system has appeared in the Right Hon. W. Drummond, whose " Academical Ques- tions'' I have read with much delight and instruction, if not with conviction. 4$ PRINCIPLES OF taste: pose : I say gradually ; for if the transition be sudden and abrupt, it will not be pleasant ; the pleasure arising from the inverted action of the nerves, and not from the utter cessation of action. 13. From this inverted action arises the gratification which we receive from a cool breeze, when the body has been excessively heated; or from the rocking of a cradle, or the gentle motion of a boat, or easy carriage, after having been fatigued with violent exer- cise. Such, too, is that which twilight, or the gloomy shade of a thicket affords to the eye, after it has been dazzled with the blaze of the mid-day sun; and such, likewise, is that, which the ear receives, from the gradual diminution of loudness of tone in music ; and it is by alternately ascending and descending this scale ? that what is called (by a metaphor taken from painting) the chromatic in that art, is pro- duced : but why the sensation caused by the ascent of the scale should be called pleasure, and that caused by its descent, delight, as dis- tinguished by an eminent writer*, I cannot discover. * Sublime and Beautiful, P. I. f. iv. PART I. SENSATION. 43 CHAPTER IV. OF HEARING. 1. Sound is produced by the vibrations of C1IAP# elastic air or some other fluid contained in it, IV - and communicated to the interior organs of , r ea ™*g- perception by means of the drum of the ear and auditory nerves; which are formed by na- ture with a peculiar kind of irritability suited to such vibrations, which have no effect on any other part of the body, how exquisite soever its sensibility may be. They have, neverthe- less, a very strong and marked effect upon the hardest substances in nature, provided they are such as are capable of receiving vibrations in unison : whence sound will break a glass, at the same time, that it cannot move a feather or the flame of a candle ; nor make any per- ceptible impression upon the ball of the eye. 2. Its vibrations, indeed, seem to be com- municable to every hard and elastic substance ; as appears from the ticking of a watch, or any other minute sound being conveyed to almost any distance by a pole or wire extending from the sonorous object to the ear. Where the drum of that organ, too, is diseased ; and the sense of hearing consequently lost or impaired, the lowest whisper will, nevertheless, be dis- 44 PRINCIPLES or taste: tlnctly heard, if spoken to one end of a bar of metal or glass, while the other is held be- tween the teeth of the person addressed : but if the disease extends to the auditory nerves ; so as to deprive them of their irritability, nor thing can be heard by these or any other means. The sound, therefore, appears, in this instance, to be conveyed to those nerves, which com- municate with the brain, by means of vibra- tions received by one solid and elastic sub- stance from another; and thus continued through the bar, the teeth, and the jaw bones. 3. Many of these solid bodies, which are so susceptible of the vibrations of sound, such as glass, and different kinds of metal, are impe- netrable to air: wherefore I suspect that sound is produced by some finer fluid mixed with air ; and pervading elastic, as light does trans- parent bodies. Of this fluid, however, if such there be, we can never obtain any adequate knowledge : for, as it is only perceived, as the vehicle of impressions to one sense, our ideas of it must always remain in nearly the same state as those which a man born blind can form of the light of the sun by feeling its warmth. That hard and solid substances should transmit this light, which is excluded by the most soft and porous, is equally unac- countable, as that they should transmit sound. In both, probably, there is a peculiar distribu* PART I. SENSATION". 45 tion of the component particles, respectively adapted to the admission of a particular fluid, and of that only. 4. But whatever be the nature of the sub- stance, which produces sound, the sensations, caused by its vibrations upon the organs of hearing, will depend upon the same principles, as those produced by other substances on other organs. Certain modes and degrees of irri- tation will be pleasant, others painful, and others insipid ; and these will vary in different individuals according to the different degrees of sensibility in their respective organs. In some sorts of dogs, this sensibility is so ex- quisite, that the sound of a fife or other very shrill instrument, though perfectly in harmony, gives them very acute pain, when near to their ears ; as they testify by loud howlings and com- plainings. The filing of a saw, or other harsh and discordant sound of that kind, though not loud, will create a very uneasy and even painful sensation in the human organs, which we commonly call sett'mg the teeth on edge; and it seems to be produced by extending the vibrations from the ears to the teeth, instead of from the teeth to the ears: as in the expe- riment of the metal or glass bar before cited. Extremely loud and jarring sounds, such as those of kettle-drums or artillery, will extend this vibration through the whole body; as I IV. Of Hearing. 46 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. very sensibly felt at the performance of some of Handel's choruses in Westminster Abbey: but, as they were in harmony, the sensation was not at all unpleasant. On the contrary, if I could conceive any sensation to be sublime, I should admit this to be so: but the senti- ment of sublimity belongs to the affections of the mind, and not to organic sensation; as I shall fully show in examining that part of my subject. 5. The sensual pleasures of sound, to which I wish at present to confine my inquiries, are in their modes and progress nearly analogous to those of taste. Very young persons almost always prefer the sweet tones of a flute, or the female human voice, unaccompanied and with- out any technical modulation, to any more complicated harmony : but these simple tones, by being often repeated with little variety, grow vapid and tiresome ; while mixtures, when once the relish for them is acquired, give per- manent pleasure by varying it through every possible mode of combination ; and still fur- ther varying these modes of combination by all the diversities of modulation — by swells, ca- dences, &c. ; which render music one of the most delightful of gratifications, even when considered merely as a gratification of sense, independent of character and expression ; which belong not to the sensations, which it 11 PART I. SENSATION*. 47 causes ; but to the mental sympathies and as- chap. sociated ideas, which those sensations excite ^ c Iv# . Of Hearing, and renew. 6. For there are certain modulations of tone, which instinctively express certain mental sympathies; and, without the intervention of any determinate notions or ideas, convey the sentiments of one mind, and awaken those of another with more unerring precision and em- phatical energy, than the artificial medium of articulation can ever attain. Such are' the va- rious modulations of tone, by which birds and quadrupeds express their parental and sexual affections ; and their sentiments of anger, re- sentment, or defiance: expressions, whose meaning is always clear and unequivocal ; and which are understood as perfectly by those who have existed but a day, as by them, who have lived years ; no young animal of any kind ever mistaking the murmur of affection for the growl of anger, or the cry of joy for the whine of distress. 7. Similar modulations of tone also serve, as a natural medium of communication of cor- responding sentiments, in the human race, before the artificial one of articulation is ac- quired or understood; very young children always perceiving, by the tone of voice, in which they are spoken to, whether they are applauded or reprimanded, long before they IV Of Hearing. 45 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. have learned to affix any determinate ideas w the particular words uttered. 8. To this natural and instinctive effect of the different modulations of tone is owing, in a great measure, the effect of what we call ex- pression in music : at least of that which may properly be called sentimental expression ; since it excites sentiments merely ; whereas another kind of expression excites ideas also : but this depends upon the principle of asso- ciation, which will be considered apart. The primitive music of all nations is, I believe, of this sentimental kind ; music, as well as paint- ing and poetry, being in its principle an imh- tative art * ; and, though science may delight in that various and complicated harmony, which displays the skill of the composer, and the dexterity of the performer, without either pleasing the sense, or touching the heart; yet the mass of mankind, I believe, never find any gratification in music, but such as arises either from sweet tones, pleasing combinations, or such modulations, as either through instinctive feeling, or habitual association, awaken pleas- ing sympathies. The first of these is a sen- ' sual, and the second a sentimental pleasure ; while that, which is peculiarly felt by the learned, may be properly called an intellectual • Aristot. Poet. f. iii. IV. - Of Hearing. PART I. SENSATION". 49 pleasure: for this likewise is really a pleasure, chap. and one that may be as reasonably and pro perly cultivated as either of the others ; as I shall show in treating of the pleasures of the understanding. It is one, indeed, which I am utterly incapable of enjoying: but that is no reason why I should treat it with contempt, according to a too common practice ; which, however, always indicates a narrow, or an un- cultivated mind ; and generally both. 9. As music consists in the melody of inarti- culate sounds, so does poetry, as far as it can be considered as a gratification of sense, in that of articulate sounds : but as articulation consists in the division and interruption of tones, and harmony in their undulating flow into each other, it must be owned that articu- late and melodious sounds seem to be of very adverse dispositions ; and accordingly we find that articulation is almost always partially sup- pressed in singing, even by those, who pro- nounce most distinctly; the pure or mute consonants, which alone mark distinct articu- lation, being softened down into liquids or aspirates. 10. Indeed, it appears to me, that the most melodious versification affords very little, if any at all, of mere sensual gratification ; the regularity of metre or rhyme being rather cal- culated to assist memory and facilitate ut- E IV. Of Hearine;. 50 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! ciur. terance, than to please the ear; which, in music, is always most delighted with irregular combinations : for, though the same closes to particular periods are sometimes repeated at stated intervals, it is generally in lighter com- positions, where the music is not principal, but adapted to the verse. 11. Music, too, is still music, upon whatso- ever instrument it be performed ; nor does that, which was composed for the harp, cease to be melody when performed on the violin. But the metre of one language, when applied to the words of another, ceases to have any effect at all ; as has been abundantly proved by the hexameters, Sapphics, Alcaics, &c. which have at different times, and from dif- ferent authors, appeared in English : — verses less like poetry could scarcely have been pro- duced by the machine of Logado. Neverthe- less the metres are exactly the same, as those which are felt to be so musical in the Greek and Latin; and as the tones in both are limited by us to our own habitual pronun- ciation of the five vowels, there cannot be any great difference in them, as modified to our utterance. 12, The relations of measure and quantity are fixed and determinate, and liable to no variation from the difference of the materials to which they are applied. They must, there- IV. Of Hearing. PART I. SENSATION. 51 fore, be the same in Greek, as in English; as chap. they are the same in marble, as in brick ; and, as far as the impressions made upon the organs of hearing depend upon measure and quantity, they must be the same likewise in both : but still we know that our feelings are very dif- ferently affected by the same metrical quan- tities employed in different languages; where- fore, either the pleasures arising from poetry do not arise from metrical quantity, or me- trical quantity makes itself felt by something beyond the mere organs of sense. 13. Indeed, from the manner, in which the verses of the Greek and Latin poets are pro- nounced in our public schools and universities, it might be reasonably inferred that metrical quantity was of no importance, and not to be considered as a requisite of poetry : for though great pains are taken to teach the mechanism of it; yet, when learnt, it is totally neglected in reading; every word of three syllables be- ing pronounced either as a dactyle or amphi- brachys, according to the accentual prosody of our own language. As the ancients, however, did not extend the syllable, upon which they raised the voice, in the manner that we do ; and as this mode of pronunciation is peculiar to ourselves, and unintelligible to all the rest of Europe, we may safely conclude it to be wrong; and concur with the general opinion E 2 52 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. of mankind that metrical quantity is an essen- IV - tial to poetry, as necessary to be preserved in v^^-f!I!^f) reading, as in scanning a verse ; and that much of the pleasure, which poetry affords, arises from a just observance of it. 14. It is, nevertheless, evident that this plea- sure is not a pleasure of organic sense ; though communicated through the organs of hearing: for not only the verse of one language ceases to be verse, and loses all the character of poetry in another, but the same metre, regu- lated by the same accentuation, and consti- tuted in every respect upon the same principle, is in one language appropriated to serious and tragic, and in another, to ludicrous and fri- volous subjects ; and the propriety of its use in each is equally felt by those who are equally familiar with both. " Thus said to my lady the knight full of cave," And " Je chante le heros qui regna sur la Fiance," flow exactly in the same time and tune, and are equally supported by corresponding rhymes in the lines, that respectively follow ; and yet to the same ears, and independent of the sense, there is something, in the flow of the one, light and ludicrous, and in that of the other, grave and solemn ; though the English language is certainly much less prone to the light and lucli- 10 PART I. SENSATION. 53 crous, and better adapted to the grave and chap. solemn than the French. There is something, 1V * . ... c , , Of Hairing. however, in the respective idioms or each, that, in this instance, causes the same modifications of sound to appear ludicrous in the former, and solemn in the latter ; wherefore it is in the nature of idiom, that we must seek for the principle of this difference, as well as for that, which gives iis character and effect to all me- trical language: but as idiom in language is not a subject of organic sensation, nor any- thing immediately pertaining to it, the investi- gation of it does- not belong to the present stage of my inquiry. 15. If the principles of poetical and musical melody were the same, as, I believe, all theo- retical writers upon the subject have supposed them to be, similar differences must necessarily arise in the character and effect of the same tune, according as it was played upon instru- ments respectively differing in the style and character of their tone and modulation : but this is in no instance the case ; every com- position in music retaining its own original character, upon whatever instrument it be per- formed, provided the instrument be really musical or in tune, and touched with compe- tent skill and ability. A cracked fiddle may make any composition in music appear ridi- culous ; as a cracked voice may any composi- e 3 5-4 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. t i on j n poetry* ; but that is upon another prin- Of Hearing. c *pl e > which will be hereafter examined. 16. It has been already observed that all sensation is really produced by contact; the effluvia, that we smell, and the vibrations, that we hear, being locally and essentially in the nose and the ears, just as the food, which we taste, is in the mouth, or the implements that we hold, are in the hands. The mere sense of hearing, therefore, can afford us no infor- mation concerning the distance or direction of a sonorous object, which can only be perceived by a faculty acquired entirely by habit ; though, by being habitual, the exercise of it has be- come as spontaneous and instantaneous, as that of any natural or organic faculty belong- ing to our constitutions. If this needed any proof, and was not clearly demonstrated by the formation of the organs, the common trick of a ventriloquist, who can make the sound of his voice appear to come in any direction, or from any distance within the reach of its being heard, would be fully sufficient: for this effect is produced merely by modifying it, as it would be modified to the ear, if it had really come in that direction, or from that distance. We, therefore, judge of the directions of sounds, * Nihil intrare potest in affectum, quod in aure, velut quodam vestibulo, statim offendit. Quintil. Inst. 1. ix. «. iv. PART I. SENSATION. 55 and the distances of their causes, solely by chap. certain modes of the vibrations affecting the IV * . ... ,. ,. . . . , Of Hearing. organ, which usually distinguish each respec- tively, and which are accordingly associated with them in the mind ; but which may, ne- vertheless, be produced by other means so perfectly as to work an entire deception even in the most acute observers. 17. This is an extremely important consi- deration in enabling us to estimate properly the grandeur or sublimity of sound ; which can no otherwise arise from its loudness, than as that loudness excites an idea of power in the sonorous object, or in some other associated with it in the mind : for a child's drum close to the ear fills it with more real noise, than the discharge of a Cannon a mile off; and the rat- tling of a carriage in the street, when faintly and indistinctly heard, has often been mistaken for thunder at a distance. Yet no one ever imagined the beating of a child's drum, or the rattling of a carriage over stones, to be grand or sublime ; which, nevertheless, they must be, if grandeur or sublimity belong at all to the sensation of loudness. But artillery and light- ning are poxoerful engines of destruction; and with their power we sympathize, whenever the sound of them excites any sentiments of subli- mity; which is only when we apprehend no danger from them; or at least no degree of e 4 5(3 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE : IV. Of Hearing. chap. danger sufficient to impress fear: for so far is terror from being a source of the sublime, that the smallest degree of fear instantly annihilates it, as far as relates to the person frightened ; and to that person only is the object terrible. To all others it is merely powerful, or capable of inspiring terror to those who are more sus- ceptible of it. — But of this more shall be said in the proper place. FART I. SENSATION. 57 CHAPTER V. OF SIGHT. 1. Sight, as well as hearing, is produced by immediate contact of the exciting cause with the organ ; which exciting cause is the li«;ht reflected, from the objects seen, upon the retina of the eye ; the pictures upon which, by some impressions or irritations upon the optic nerves, the modes of which muft be for ever unknown to us, are conveyed to the mind, and produce the sense of vision, the most valuable of all our senses. 2. The sensation, therefore, felt upon open- ing the eyes for the first time, must necessarily be that of the objects seen touching them ; as it proved to be in the case of the boy, who, at the age of fourteen or thereabouts, obtained his sight, after having been blind from his birth, by an operation performed upon his eyes by Cheselden. For a considerable time, and till the sense of seeing had been aided and corrected by that of touch, all the objects seen appeared only as variations of light acting upon the eye : for the colours of objects are only different rays of light variously reflected from their surfaces * ; and their visible pro- • See Newton's Theory of Light and Colours. 58 PRIxVCIPLES OF TASfE! jection is merely gradation and opposition of light and shadow ; which, in round and undu- lating bodies, are intermixed gradually; and, in those of angular forms, abruptly. It is, therefore, only by habit and experience that we form analogies between the perceptions of .vi- sion and those of touch, and thus learn to dis- cover projection by the eye : for, naturally, the eye sees only superficial dimension ; as clearly appears in painting and all other optical decep- tions, which produce the appearance of projec- tion or thickness upon a flat surface. The faculty, however, when acquired, as it is in all adult persons who have seen from their birth, is exercised as readily and instantaneously as any natural faculty whatsoever *. 3. The perception of visible projection being thus artilicial, that of visible distance must necessarily be so likewise: for distance is only projection extended. Accordingly we find that our improved perception of visible dis- tance extends no further than that experience, by which it has been formed and improved : for of the immense distances of the heavenly bodies from each other, and from the earth, we discover nothing by looking at them ; they all appearing to occupy the surface of one * See Dr. Reid's Essay on the Mind, where a very clear stsd full explanation of the theory of vision is given. V. Of Sight. PART I. SENSATION. 59 "blue vault, whose diameter is that of the vi- chap. sible horizon ; which the sun, moon, and stars seem equally to touch at their rising and setting. Hence the notion of these lumi- naries setting in, and rising from the ocean has universally prevailed through all nations : and it has not been by the evidence of im- proved sense; but by the calculations and discoveries of improved intellect, that the error has been removed. 4. The visible magnitude of bodies depend- ing entirely upon their distance from the eye, we have, of course, as imperfect and inade- quate perceptions of it from the unaided sense of vision, as we have of distance. The pen, which I hold between my fingers, occupies a greater space in the retina, when only a foot from the eye, than the spire of Salisbury does, when seen at the distance of a mile ; and, con- sequently, as far as concerns the mere organ of sense, is bigger : for though the real mag- nitude of an object, which is perceived by a computation of its distance, rendered instan- taneous by habit, may affect the imagination, the visible dimensions of it alone are impressed upon the eye; and, consequently, can alone affect the sensation excited. 5. Hence we may learn how to estimate the theory of an eminent writer, who supposes that objects of large dimensions are sublime, 60 PRINCIPLES of taste: because the great number of rays, which they emit, crowd into the eye together, or in quick succession, and produce a degree of tension in the membrane of the retina, which, approach- ing nearly to the nature of what causes paint must (in his own words) produce an idea of the sublime*. But, to say nothing of this assumed connection between the causes of pain and the ideas of the sublime, the slightest knowledge of optics would have informed him that the sheet of paper, upon which he was writing, being seen thus close to the eye, re- flected a greater, and more forcible mass of light; and, consequently, produced more irri- . tat ion and tension, than the Peak of Teneriffe or Mount St. Elias would, if seen at the dis- tance of a few miles : — yet, surely he would not say that the sheet of paper excited more grand and perfect ideas of the sublime. 6. That the irritation, produced in the mem- branes of the eye by vision, is proportioned to the quantity of light poured into it, we may perceive by the dilation and contraction of that membrane called the iris ; which always expands its circle, as the quantity of light, to which it is exposed, is diminished, and con- tracts it, as it is increased. In the eyes of animals formed to see with a very small quan- • Sublime and Beautiful, Part IV*. f.Jx. PART I. SENSATION. 6l tity of light; such as cats, owls, &c. this power is very great; and the membrane af- fected seems to consist of valves, which open and shut, instead of a sphincter, that dilates and contracts. Hence, in the night, when these valves are entirely open, the eyes of these animals present a very singular appearance of large luminous circles ; which, in the day,' are reduced to small horizontal slits; through which the few rays, that they then want, are suffered to pass : for, to organs of such nice sensibility, any great quantity would be pain- ful ; and it is probable that the degree of irri- tation alone regulates the opening and shutting of the membranes, which admit and exclude it, in the same manner as it does the dilation and contraction of the corresponding membranes in our eyes, without the intervention of the will. 7. The pains and pleasures of vision, how- ever, like those of the other senses, depend upon the modes as well as degrees of irritation : for all the different colours may be properly considered as different modes, in which light acts upon the eyes; colours -being only col- lections of rays variously modified, separated, and combined, according to the different tex- tures of the surfaces of the bodies, from which they are reflected, or the substances of those through which they are refracted 62 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: 8. There are, indeed, scarcely any human eyes of such extreme sensibility, unless in a morbid state, as to feel any absolute pain from colours composed of reflected rays : for unless the reflection be from the surface of a concave mirror, in which the rays are collected and condensed, the effect of light is necessarily weakened by being reflected ; whence the re- fracted colours of a prism or a rainbow are always more vivid and bright than those which are reflected from any opaque substance. There are, however, some kinds of birds and quadrupeds, such as turkeys and oxen, to whom scarlet is evidently painful ; as they will run at it, and attack it with the utmost viru- lence and fury. Green, on the contrary, ap- pears to be grateful to the eyes of all animals ; though colours, as well as sounds and flavours, are more pleasing when harmoniously mixed and graduated, than when distinct and uni- form. Indeed, they almost always are gra- duated and broken in nature : for, though an object be of one colour throughout, unless it present one equal superficies to one equal degree of light, that colour will be variously graduated and diversified to the eye by every undulating or angular projection or indenture of its form. In every individual pink or rose, whether its colour be white, yellow, or red, PART I. SENSATION'. OS there are infinite varieties and gradations of tint, produced, not only by the different de- grees and modifications of light and shadow, but by the various reflected rays, which one leaf casts upon another, according to their dif- ferent degrees of opacity and exposure. 9. When many sorts and varieties of these rich and splendid productions of nature are skilfully arranged and combined, as in the flower-pots of Vanhuysum, they form, per- haps, the most perfect spectacle of mere sen- sual beauty that is any where to be found. The magnificent compositions of landscape are, indeed, spectacles of a higher class ; and afford pleasures of a more exalted kind: but only a small part of those pleasures are merely sensual ; the venerable ruin, the retired cot- tage, the spreading oak, the beetling rock, and limpid stream having charms for the imagi- nation, as well as for the sense ; and often bringing into the mind pleasing trains of ideas besides those, which their impressions upon the organs of sense immediately excite. As far, however, as they do afford sensual pleasure, it depends upon the same principle as the plea- sures of the other senses already treated of; that is, upon a moderate and varied irritation of the organic nerves : for, if the irritation be too strong ; that is, if the transitions of colour be too violent and sudden, and the oppositions 64 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: of light and shadow too vigorous and abrupt, the effect will be harsh and dazzling, and the sensation painful, or, at least, unpleasant ; while, if they be too monotonous and feeble, the effect will be flat and insipid, and the sen- sation too languid to be pleasing. 10. In this, however, as in all other plea- sures of sense, the scale of the pleasing and displeasing impressions cannot be graduated according to any abstract general rule, but must be adapted to the different degrees of sensibility of different organs; which vary, not only constitutionally, but habitually ; the eye, as well as the palate, being liable to be vitiated, and consequently to require such stimulants to give it pleasure, as give pain to those of more refined sensibility. On the contrary, there are persons whose eyes have naturally a sort of morbid irritability, which renders those de- grees of light and modifications of colour, which are merely sufficient to be pleasant to others, quite painful to them. In this case, however, as in all others of the kind, the just scale, and criterion of taste, must be taken from the natural feelings of the mass of man- kind : for we have here no rules of calculation to appeal to; and rules of analogy are true or false accordingly as they are respectively sup- ported or opposed by the greater number of instances. V. Of Sight. PART I. SENSATION. 1 1 . Smoothness being properly a quality per- chap. ceivable only by the touch, and applied meta- phorically to the objects of the other senses, we often apply it very improperly to those of vision : assi PART I. SEXSATIOX. C)7 lines, or winding canals distinctly bounded by shaven banks, may be properly called smooth, if we mean smoothness to the touch : but, to the eye, they present nothing but harsh and discordant oppositions of colour, distinguished by crude and abrupt lines, and only diversified by formal and angular masses of light and sha- dow. The only quality in visible objects, which is at all analogous to smoothness in tangible bodies, is the even monotony of a billiard-table or bowlina-crreen ; and if the bowlimg^green be no 7 o o ridged like a corn field, and the ridges covered with smooth turf, it will be exactly analogous to the undulating smoothness of tangible sur- faces : yet, I doubt much whether even the love of system would have power to induce any person to find much beauty in either of these objects ; though I hold that love to be full as potent as any other, and perhaps more so : for I think that affections, which are generated in :he brain, are generally more vigorous, and al- ways more permanent, than those which spring jp in the heart. 15. I do not mean, however, to deny or de- preciate the charms of neatness, which is so ;rateful in itself, and so necessary to the corn- fort and well-being of man, as I shall show in he proper place : but it forms no part of that lerely visible beauty, abstracted from all men- F 2 63 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! tal sympathies or intellectual fitness, which is at present the subject of inquiry. 16. This consists, according to the principles which I have endeavoured to establish, in har- monious, but yet brilliant and contrasted comT binations of light, shade, and colour ; blended, but not confused ; and broken, but not cut, into masses : and it is not peculiarly in straight or curve, taper or spiral, long or short, little or great objects, that we are to seek for these ; but in such as display to the eye intricacy of parts and variety of tint and surface. 1 7. Such are animals which have loose, shag- gy, and curly hair ; trees, whose branches are spread into irregular forms, and exhibit broken and diversified masses of foliage, and whose trunks are varied with mosses and lichens, or enriched with ivy ; buildings, that are mould- ering into ruin *, whose sharp angles are soft- * " And time hath mouldered into beauty many a tower," is one of the few happy expressions to be found in Mr. Mason's ** English Garden." According to Mr. Price, however, beauty, even in ar- chitecture, implies the freshness of youth ; or, at least, a state of high and j>erfect preservation ; and buildings are mouldered out of beauty into picturesqueness. Vol. IT. p. 282, &c. and Dialog- Who shall ever understand the English language, if new and uncouth words are thus to deprive those sanctioned by long usage of their authorised and established meaning ? part i. Sensation. 69 ened by decay, and whose crude and uniform tints are mellowed and diversified by weather- stains and wall plants ; streams, that flow alter- nately smooth and agitated, between broken of sedgy banks, reflecting, sometimes clearly, and sometimes indistinctly, the various masses of rock or foliage, that hang over them ; in short, almost all those objects in nature or art, which my friend Mr. Price has so elegantly described as picturesque: for painting, as it imitates only the visible qualities of bodies, separates those qualities from all others; which the habitual concurrence and co-operation of the other senses have mixt and blended with them, in our ordinary perceptions, from which our ideas are formed. The imitative deceptions of this art unmask the habitual deceptions of sight, as those of the ventriloquist do the habitual de- ceptions of hearing, by Showing that mere modifications upon one flat surface can exhibit to the eye the semblance of various projecting bodies at different degrees of distance from each other, in the same manner as the mere modifi- cations of one voice could convey to the ear the semblance of different voices coming in different directions, and from places differing in their degrees of proximity. Hence it was with some difficulty that the nature of painting could be explained to the boy, restored to sight by Che- selden, even after his eyes had acquired all the f 3 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! ordinary powers of perception, as well as those of sensation : for when he sazc, upon a surface, which he felt to be flat, all those visible effects produced, by which lie had lately been taught to estimate visible projection and distance, he concluded that either his sight or his touch was erroneous, but had not been sufficiently in the habit of comparing their evidence to decide which. 1 8. In many of the objects of these mixt sen- sations, there must necessarily occur a mixture of pleasing and displeasing qualities; or of such as please one sense and displease another: or please the senses, and offend the understand- ing or the imagination. These painting also separates ; and, in its imitations of objects, which are pleasing to the eye but otherwise offensive, exhibits the pleasing qualities only ; so that we are delighted with the copy, when we should, perhaps, turn away with disgust and abhorrence from the original. Decayed pollard trees, rotten thatch, crumbling masses of pe- rished brick and plaster, tattered worn-out dirty garments, a fish or a flesh market, may all ex- hibit the most harmonious and brilliant combi- nations of tints to the eye ; and harmonious and brilliant combinations of tints are certainly beautiful in whatsoever they are seen : but, ne- vertheless, these objects contain so many pro* pertics that are offensive to other senses, or to Of Sijjrf. PART J. SENSATION. 71 the imagination- that in nature we are not chap. pleased with them, nor ever consider them as beautiful. Yet in the pictures of Rembrandt, Ostade, Tenters, and Fyt, the imitations of them are unquestionably beautiful and pleasing to all mankind ; and as these painters are re- markable for the fidelity of their imitations, whatever visible qualities existed in the objects must appear in their copies of them; but, in these copies, the mind perceives only the visi- ble qualities; whereas, in the originals, it per- ceived others less agreeable united with them. Painters, indeed, and persons much convers- ant with painting, often feel pleasure in view- ing the objects themselves: but this is from a principle of association, which will be here- after explained. 19. A great authority, I know, denies that the imitations of such objects can ever produce " beautiful, that is; lovely pictures* ;" and if beautiful is thus limited to the sense of love- ly, I may perhaps not think the point worth contesting; though, even with this arbitrary and unexampled limitation, I can produce at least equal authority in support of a contrary opinion. " D'un pinceau delicat, I'artifice agreable Du plus alfreux objet, fak un objet aimablef." • Price's Dialog. f Boileau, Art Poeticiue, c. iii. F 4 72 PRINCIPLES OF taste: The same great authority had before admitted that the picturesque, which renders such ob- jects pleasing in pictures, is that which paint- ing can, and sculpture cannot express* ; and what is that but colour, and its gradations of light and shade, or distinctness and indistinct- ness ? 20. The beauty of those whimsical and ex- travagant paintings, called, from the subterra- neous apartments in Rome, where the first spe- cimens of them were found, grottesque, has never," I believe, been questioned: the bril- liance and variety of the tints having afforded pleasure to every eye ; and the airy lightness, and playful elegance of tiie forms, to every ima- gination, that has been acquainted with them. Yet, were we to meet with such extravagant and disproportioned buildings in reality ; or such monstrous combinations of human, ani- mal, and vegetable forms in nature, our under- standings would revolt at them, and we should turn from them with scorn and disgust : but, in judging of the imitative representations of them, we do not consult our understandings, but merely our senses and imaginations ; and to them they are pleasing and beautiful. 2i. I am aware that I am here laying myself open to the cavils of a captious adversary ; who * Essays: Preface to Vol.11, p. xiv. tART I. SENSATIQX. 73 may accuse me of calling the tattered rags and filth of a beggar, or the extravagant monsters of grottesque beautiful, because 1 assert that they contain beautiful variations of tint or light and shadow : but he may, with equal jus- tice, accuse me of calling a dunghill sweet, be- cause I assert that it contains sugar; and that the sugar, when separated from the dross, will be of the same quality as that extracted from the cane. In the same manner, the beautiful tints and lights and shadows, when separated, in the imitation, from the disagreeable qualities, with which they were united, are as truly beau- tiful as if they had never been united with any such qualities. Properly, those substances only can be called sweet, in which the qualities of sweetness predominate ; and those only beautiful, in which the qualities of beauty pre- dominate : but, if there be any means, as those above mentioned, of separating the subordinate sweet and beautiful qualities trom those of a contrary kind, there can be no reason why they should be less sweet or less beautiful when separated, than if they had never been mixt 2 L 2. The natural consequence of confining beauty to smoothness or undulation, either of form or colour, is, that a person of such just taste and feeling, as my friend above mentioned, should discover it to be insipid, as he has done : and to remedy this defect, he proposes that a 10 74 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: certain porlion of the quality, which he calls picturesyueness, should be mixt with it, in order to give it the proper relish. Of the word Picturesque, I shall have more to say in ano- ther chapter; and, therefore, shall only ob- serve, at present, that whosoever thinks beauty insipid, and conceives that the addition of any other quality is requisite to make it pleasing, has only involved himself in a confusion of terms, by attaching to the word beauty tho?e ideas, which the rest of mankind attach to the word insipidity ; and those, which the rest of mankind attach to the, word beauty, to this nameless amalgamation, which he conceives to be an improvement of it. The difference \s merely a difference of words, which three fourths of those, that have arisen in metaphy- sics and moral philosophy, as well as in reli- gion, have been ; and as long as the disputes concerning them are confined to the shedding of ink, and do not extend to the shedding of blood, they afford a very innocent amusement to the several disputants, of which, \ am now enjoying the benefit. 0,2. A very remarkable difference of this kind subsisted between the Late President of the Royal Academy*, and the author of the In- quiry into the Sublime and Beautiful, which it *• Sir jQshua Reynolds. PART I. SENSATION. 75 Is peculiarly pleasant to recall upon the present occasion, because it never cooled the warmth of that friendship, which remained unabated and uninterrupted between those two illustrious persons till death separated them; though both appealed to the public in favour of their re- spective opinions. The one makes beauty to consist in smooth and undulating surfaces, flow- ing lines, and colours that are analogous to them*; while the other maintains that beauty does not consist in any particular forms, lines, ; or colours, but is merely the result of habitual association ; by which particular forms, propor- tions, and colours are appropriated to particu- lar kinds and species, the individuals of which appear beautiful, or ugly, accordingly as they are respectively conformable or adverse lo our ideas of the perfection of those particular forms ; which ideas have arisen in the mind from a general and comparative view of the whole kind, class, or species f. It will readily appear that these two great critics differ so widely merely from attaching different meanings to the word beauty; which, the one confines to the sensible, and the other to the intellectual qualities of things; both equally departing from that general use of the term, which is the only ust criterion of propriety in speech. Nl Sublime and Beautiful, Part III. f Idler, No. S. 76 PRINCIPLES OF taste; 24. The doctrines of the former concerning beauty have been classed and defined under six distinct heads by the most eminent and distin- guished of his disciples; and thus illustrated by a well-known example; which, if it prove nothing else, shows at least to what a degree the most discerning mind may be occasionally deprived even of the ordinary powers of per- ception by the fascinations of a favourite sys- tem. " No building," says Mr. Price, " is more " universally admired for its beauty than the " temple of the Sibyl at Tivoli. Let us then " consider what are the qualities of beauty " according to Mr. Burke, and how far they " apply to beautiful buildings in general, and " to that in particular. Those qualities are, " I. to be comparatively small: II. to be smooth: " III. to have a variety in the direction of the " parts : but, IV. to have those parts melted, as " it were, into each other : V. to be of a de- " licate f rame, without any remarkable appear- " ance of strength: VI. to have the colour " clear and bright, but not very strong and " glaring. The temple I have just mentioned, " has, I think, as much of those chief prin- " ciples of general beauty, as the particular " principles of architecture will allow of: it is ** circular, surrounded by columns detached u from the body of the building; it is light and PART I. SENSATION. 77 " airy ; of a delicate frame ; in a great mea- *' sure free from angles ; and comparatively " small. I am speaking of it, as it must have " been in its perfect state, when the tint of the " stone, and the finishing and preservation of " the parts, corresponded with the beauty of its "" general form*,"" The ruin of the temple of Vesta, vulgarly called the Sibyls' temple, at Tivoli, has unques- tionably been very generally admired for Us beauty, and perfectly accords with the prin- ciples that I am endeavouring to establish; though not at all with those of my antagonist, which can only allow it to be picturesque. What was the effect of the original temple upon the minds of those, who saw it entire, we do not know : but admitting it to have been that of beauty still more perfect, it remains to be seen how far, upon a more accurate inspection, and more detailed examination of its constituent parts, it will answer the purpose for which it is cited. Compared with the Pantheon or the Par* thenon, it was certainly small ; but, compared with any edifice of similar plan (the proper ob- ject of comparison), it was by no means so : for though smaller in diametre than that of the same goddess at Rome, it appears to have been % Essays on the Picturesque, Vol. II. p. 273. 78 PRINCIPLES of taste: altogether a larger, more massive, and more considerable building, than either that or any other of the kind known. So far from being smooth, it is all over rough with sculpture, and built of the most ruggedj porous, unequal stone, ever employed in a highly wrought edifice. The parts, instead of having any variety or even difference in their direction, all converge to one centrical point ; as they necessarily must in a building completely circular. Even the columns have a horizontal inclination inwards, equal to their perpendicular diminution upwards; which shows a most scrupulous attention to exclude every appearance of such variety. Instead of being free from angles, every thing is composed of angles : the entablature consists of angles projecting beyond each other; the suffit of angles indented within each other-; the capitals are clusters of angles, obtuse in the abacus, and acute in the foliage; while the co- lumns, being fluted, exhibit circles of angles round every shaft, and stand upon a basement surrounded by a cornice composed chiefly of angular mouldings. So far from being of a delicate frame, or with little appearance of strength, it is remark- able for nothing more than the compact firmness of its construction, which nothing but some convulsion of nature, or the mischievous ex- PAKT I. SEN'SATtON. 79 ertions of man could have destroyed,; nor is its superiority in beauty over all the numerous imitations that have been made of it, owing to any thing more than to its superior size, strength, and varietv of rough angular enrichments. It is founded on a projecting point of rock en- larged into a square area by vast substructions of arches, supporting a basement of solid stone, above forty-five feet in diametre, and nearly eight feet thick ; on which was placed a circle of columns, each shaft of one stone, upwards of twenty feet long, and two feet and a half thick, supporting a massive stone roof, and surrounding a tower of rough masonry of about twenty-eight feet in diametre. The colour is that of the rough Tiburtine stone, which could never have been other than a dingv brown; and though a circular Corin- thian portico surrounding a circular tower, and thus appearing, by the laws of perspective, to retreat from the eye, is extremely light and airy, upon a principle, which shall be consi- dered in the proper place, this is a species of lightness no way connected with any of Mr. Burke's characteristics of beauty; nor at all incompatible with the most manifest firmness and stability of construction. The temple of Vesta at Rome appears to have been after the same design, with twenty columns instead of eighteen, of larger size, though slenderer pro* 80 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! portions ; and probably without the stone roof, as well as massive basement and substructions; defects, which, on the principles in question, should have enhanced rather than diminished, its beauty: yet this temple having become a dirty church in a city, instead of a beautiful ruin in a romantic situation, has scarcely been noticed : a plain indication of the real causes of the celebrity of the other. The buildings most consonant to the above definitions of beauty are the Hindoo domes, shaped like bee-hives, and composed of a thin shell of half burnt brick, encrusted in a smooth coat of the plaster called chinam, which is white, delicately tinged with red, blue, or yel- low. Their undulating flow of outline tapered to a point; their frail and delicate structure ; their clear bright colours, neither strong nor glaring ; their smooth unbroken surface ; their small size, comparative to that of the buildings to which they usually belong, all exactly ac- cord ; nor is any thing wanting but a variety in the direction of the parts ; and that the build- ings themselves always abundantly supply. Yet I do not believe that either Mr. Burke or his commentator ever found such a building beau- tiful : for, in practice, their natural good taste triumphed over their theories, and prevented them from applying the characteristics of beauty belonging to a rose, a violet, a bead, or a bon- PART I. SENSATTON. SI net, to any object of so different a kind, as a chap. btece of architecture ; in which, either Addi- „■ " ' .Of Sight. sou's principle of decoration, Montesquieu s of contrast, or Reynolds's of congruity, might afford a much juster criterion, than either frailty of frame, undulation of outline, or deli- cacy of colour ; as I shall endeavour to show in the sequel. indeed, unlooked for. 8. This intelligence is often more prominent and striking in a drawing or slight sketch, than in a finished production : whence persons, who have acquired this refined or artificial taste, generally value them more ; since finishing often blunts or conceals this excellence : but then the drawings or sketches so valued must be the works of great painters, who knew how to finish ; for, from their perfect knowledge, is de- rived the intelligence, which they are enabled to display in their imperfect exertions of it. The drawings of a mere draftsman are never highly esteemed, however excellently designed or brilliantly executed ; a loose incorrect sketch of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa being always preferred by persons conversant in the art, to the most elaborate productions of the light and brilliant pens of Pietro Testa and La Fage. 9. Collectors of pictures and drawings are often ridiculed for paying great prices for slight or juvenile productions of great artists; and it must be owned that vanity, and a silly desire of possessing what is rare, are often the motives for such purchases. But, nevertheless, they are, in many instances, of a more liberal and more reasonable kind : for, by the association of ideas, we often trace a connection between PART II. ASSOCIATION* OF IDEAS. 105 the earliest and the latest — between the most chap. imperfect and the most perfect productions of a I- ... . i i • i- i Of improved at master, which makes, not only his slight perception. sketches, but his boyish studies interesting. The question, therefore, which is often insultingly put to such collectors, " would you give such a sum for this, if the artist had done nothing bet- ter?" does not rest upon a full or fair state- ment of the case : for the collector might very candidly answer, no — without incurring any just imputation of false taste, or servile defe- rence to the authority of great names. io. When I say that the colouring of the great Venetian masters is too much below the tone of nature to please the mere organs of sense, I mean, of course, the unimproved organs of sense : for I am well aware that even the mere pleasures of sense are so far under the in- fluence of mind, and liable to be modified by habit, that they may, in some instances, be made to descend by an inverted scale, from a higher to a lower stimulus, instead of ascending, in their natural progression, from a lower to a higher. But of this, however, I recollect no instance but in those of hearing and sight, which are so intimately connected with mental sympathies that they naturally fall under the influence of the mind. No person, I believe, unacquainted with music, ever preferred the fcone of a violoncello to that of a flute : — yet, 106 PRINCIPLES or tastx; chap, when it is perceived to be so much more co- ft pious, and so much better adapted to all the Of improved . r ,, . ... Perception, scientific as well as expressive compositions in music, which require a more extensive scale of harmony, and a more refined display of chro- matic variation, the understanding so far in- fluences the ear, that I have frequently met with persons, who had learned to think even the tones of it pleasanter. Upon the same prin- ciple, I believe that no person unacquainted with the art of painting ever preferred the co- louring of Titian to that of Denner or Vander Werf : but, nevertheless, when it is discovered how much better adapted it is to fulfil all the great purposes of the art, the eye by degrees assents to the testimony of the mind, and learns to feel it more pleasant. II. Though the pleasures, which painting affords to the mass of mankind, be derived en- tirely from the artifice and trick of imitation ; yet to refined judges, who have accustomed* their minds to seek for merits of a higher kind, all this artifice and trick, and even extreme attention to exactitude, if it be ostentatiously displayed, are offensive : for experience, by detecting the artifice, teaches us to despise it; and how much soever we may be delighted with the results of care and labour, we do not like that the means, by which they are produced, should be displayed with them; as they not PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 107 only divide the attention, and obstruct all sym- chap. pathy with the expression, but proclaim that to x * ; , • i -i j j-*r i • Of improved have been cione with toil and uiniculty, a priiir Perception. cipal part of whose merit should consist in a masterly display of ease and intelligence; such as might be supposed to proceed from super- natural inspiration. 12. If, however, the defects of exactitude in imitation appear to proceed from want of know- ledge or power, instead of want of care and at- tention, they are more glaringly offensive to the learned than to the ignorant ; especially if they extend to those parts or properties of the ob- ject, which belong to its general nature, or to the particular character, which the artist means to give it ; and are not variable with the tran- sient fluctuations of fashion. The Grecian painter, who altered the shoe of his figure at the suggestion of a cobbler, showed, perhaps, a superfluous degree of attention to exactitude : but the criticism of the Turkish emperor upon the work of the Venetian artist was as reason- able as it was just; for the shrinking of the skin from the wounded part of the neck, in a decollated head, is the peculiar circumstance, which shows the head to have been cut from a living body ; and the omission of it, in a picture of the decollation of St. John the Baptist, en- tirely breaks that association of ideas, by which the story is connected with the representation 108 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. of it, and the subject of the picture made *" known. Of improved ,-, , ,, . . . . Perception. *3« -Exactitude ot imitation is much more requisite in sculpture than in painting : but, nevertheless, even in this art, if it display it- self in ostentatious trick or artifice, such as colouring statues to imitate life, it becomes offensive and disgusting to all experienced and intelligent persons : for such persons never look for deception ; which they know to be mere trick, the pleasure of which ends with the sur- prise that it has once occasioned. To attempt to produce it, therefore, by mixing two separate arts, is to weaken the proper effects of both ; as the trains of ideas, which severally belong to each, have arisen separately in the mind, and do not therefore readily or properly unite. The great sculptors of Greece, however, often composed one figure of different splendid ma- terials; such as ivory and gold, marble and brass, &c. ; but this was not for the purpose of any deception, or greater exactitude of imita- tion ; but to produce an imposing effect of splendor and magnificence in the ideal or alle- gorical images of supernatural beings. They also frequently made the eyes of silver, gems, or some other shining material; but never, I believe, exactly to resemble the life ; and, cer- tainly, not for the purpose of deception ; but merely to keep up that energy and vivacity of TART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 10$ expression, which characterized the other fea- chap. tures in which it could be exhibited in forms; u , , , r Of improve whereas, in the eyes, it could only arise from perception brightness or colours. The effect is, accord- ingly, the most animated and striking, that can be conceived, in the instances which we have remaining of bronze statues with silver eyes ; of which there are many, and some of exqui- site work, but all of a small size. From these, nevertheless, we may form some ideas of the imposing and commanding effects, which those of heroic or colossal dimensions must have had, when exhibited as objects of devotion in the temples. Those of Phidias and Lysippus must have been sufficient to reconcile even a Jew or a Mahometan to idolatry. 14. Sculpture, being properly a simple imi- tation of form, does not seem intended to afford any merely sensual pleasure to the eye : for such pleasure can only arise from colour, or variation of light and shadow ; whereas sculp- ture, considered abstractedly, has no colour, and the lights and shadows, in which it most delights, are regular, feeble, or harsh; so as to be always either too much, or too little broken to suit painting; and, therefore, certainly not in themselves pleasing to the eye. Rembrandt laughed at those artists, who talked of improv- ing themselves in painting by studying the an- tique sculptures; and showed, as his cabinet 110 i*rin6i?les of taste: chap. of antiques, a room furnished with cloaks, hats, i. turbans, &c. of various stuffs and tissues. As Of improved . . , . T . Perception. a mere painter, whose object was to please the eye, Rembrandt was quite right ; and, indeed, no man ever understood that branch of the imi- tative art better, or practised it with more deli- cacy and success; his works arriving nearer to abstract perfection, in what they pretend to, than those of any other modern artist in any branch of art. 15. As sculpture is to painting, so, in some respects at least, is the melody of poetry com- pared with that of music. Sculpture and poetry require order and regularity : painting and mu- sic delight in wild and irregular variety : sculp- ture and poetry, too, are addressed entirely to the imagination and the passions ; while paint- ing and music are, in a degree, addressed to the organs of sight and hearing, and calculated to produce pleasures merely sensual. 1 6. Articulate language is entirely artificial and acquired ; as appears from the case of deaf persons, who never learn to speak ; and as has been further proved by the learned author, who has written expressly upon the subject*. But, nevertheless, inarticulate notes are natural to men, as well as to other animals ; wherefore music is, in its principle, natural, while poetry * Lord Monboddo, PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. Ill is wholly artificial : for though the tones of the ciup. voice be from nature, the division of them into __ . *' ,, . , . , • j i i • * Of improved syllables and words is Irom acquired habit*. Perception. 1 7. In the habitual modes of distribution and combination of words into sentences, in order to express the sentiments and operations of the mind, the idiom of language consists ; which thus depending upon accidental habit, is differ- ent in every different tongue. Rhythm is the disposition and arrangement of the long and short syllables in the order most easy and plea- sant to the speaker, and most grateful and har- monious to the hearer; while prosody is a similar disposition and arrangement of the high and low syllables ; that is, of those which the habitual idiom of the language has decreed to be respectively pronounced in a high or low tone of voice ; which words high and low may mean either acute and base, as in the Greek prosody ; or loud and its contrary, as in the modern. 18. In a just and skilful application of the variations of rhythm and prosody, such as arises from just feeling only, does the melody of lan- guage consist : but, nevertheless, this melody affords no gratification to the mere organs of hearing; but is solely perceived and felt by mental sympathy, as appears from our feeling * See Origin and Progress of Language, by Lord Mon* boddo. 112 fcHIXCIPLES of taste: chap. it, when we read inwardly, and without ariy / •'" , utterance of sound: and also from its varying if improved . , • . . . J ° Perception. Wlt h the habitual variations of idiom in differ- ent languages : for, if it were a pleasure of or- ganic sensation, it must necessarily, as before observed, be the same in all languages. 19. Articulation is merely division of tone; which division may be either entire interruption, or only partial suppression, accordingly as the respective organs, by which it is produced, are entirely compressed, or only approximated to each other. The entire compression of the organs is signified in writing by the mute con- sonants, and the partial approximation by the liquids and aspirates ; neither of which admit of any variation in mode or degree beyond that respectively produced by the compression or approximation of the respective organs of speech; or the different degrees of force or emphasis, with which they are compressed or approximated, which different degrees consti- tute the differences between the consonants B and P, D and T, and G and K ; which are commutable in all flexible tongues. 20. Verse, therefore, considered as a metri- cal and accentual arrangement of syllables, independent of any chant or melody of tone, with which it is uttered, has nearly the same relation to prose, as dancing has to walking, or other irregular exercise of the limbs. Both, PAHT II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 113 considered thus abstractedly, are merely regu- chap. lated divisions of motion ; one of the organs of . R the mouth, and the other of the members of Perception, the .body ; and, as both are regulated by musi- cal divisions of time, and graduated according to the emphasis, by which those divisions are marked, both are intimately connected with, and naturally accompanied by music; though both be in principle essentially different from it. 21. Articulation, being the means by which sound is made the vehicle of thought as well as of sentiment, the modulation of the tone, by which its intervals are filled up, is, in a great degree, regulated by the meaning, which it con- veys ; wherefore the melody of verse can nei- ther be expressed nor felt by those, who do not understand the language : for, upon that mo- dulation, the prosody depends entirely, and the rhythm in a great measure. 22. Poetry, so far as it consists in. language, is the division of rhythm and prosody into cer- tain limited and regular portions, so modified as to express, in the most appropriate sounds, and with the utmost facility and energy, that the respective idioms of the particular languages allow, the various affections, sentiments, and passions of the mind ; and those images in nature or art which are the proper subjects and motives of its various passions, sentiments, and I 114 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*. chap. affections. There are, as before observed, *" certain modifications of tone adapted by nature Of improved . . . . . . . . Perception. t0 excite certain sympathies in the mind : con- sequently the greater proportion of tone, a language has, and the less of articulation, the greater variety of such modifications will it admit of, and the better adapted will it be to the purposes of poetry. Hence arises the superiority of the Italian over all modern lan- guages, both for poetry and music, and the superiority of the Greek, particularly the pri- mitive Homeric Greek, over all others both ancient and modern. 23. Attempts have been made, both in an- cient and modern times, to give to the articu- late harmony of poetry the diversity and irre- gularity of musical composition ; and similar attempts were made in the seventeenth century to give to sculpture the airy and fantastic variety of painting; but neither the one nor the other succeeded. Of the ancient dithyrambics, in- deed, we have no entire specimens : but their being all lost proves that they were not very popular productions ; and as for the promis- cuous mixtures of verses of different metres, only one instance of it is recorded *, which sufficiently shows the sort of reception which it met with. In modern lyrics, indeed, verses of • That of Chseremon, in a poem called The Centaur.— Aristot. Poet. c. iii. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 115 unequal lengths have been irregularly mixed ; chap. and, in the productions of Dryden and Gray certainly with happy effect : but then there are Perception, always correspondent rhymes, which preserve a certain degree of that regularity, which has, in all nations, been the general characteristic of poetry. This alone is sufficient to prove that the pleasures which it affords, are not of the ear, but of the intellect: for the combinations of tone, which delight the ear ; as well as the combinations of tints, which delight the eye, are irregular. The sweetness and modulation of the voice, indeed, with which poetry is re- cited, may be pleasing to the mere organs of sense : but this is a pleasure independent of the versification ; and one, which, I believe, is never felt in any great degree : for I never heard of any person who found delight in listening to the recitation of verse in a language, which he did not understand ; though, as far as the mere sensual pleasure is concerned, his understanding it or not can make no difference: An ingenious, but fanciful writer has, I know, imagined that he should have enjoyed the versi- fication of Virgil more, if he had not under- stood the meaning of the words*: but, pro- bably, had he tried the experiment with any Persian or Arabian poet celebrated for the • Lord Orford. Il6 PRINCIPLES OF taste: chap. melody of his versification, he would have L; L- listened in vain for this melody, or for any Of improved . . . . ... „ .•". . J Perception, thing else that could have anorded enjoyment; and would only have perceived a greater or less degree of roughness or smoothness in the flow of the lines, accordingly as the propor- tionate quantities of articulation or tone re- spectively predominated in the utterance : but this mere perception, unaccompanied by any musical chant or singing, would not have been of a kind to afford him any pleasure. 24. It is remarkable that the best versifier in our language should have had no taste or liking for music of any kind ; and that he, who pos- sessed the most skill, and had the truest relish for that art, should have left more uncouth and unharmonious verses, than any other poet of eminence. I know, indeed, that there are cri- tics, who have pretended to discover refine- ments of melody in the most rugged anomalies of Milton, and, of course, a total want of it in the polished elegance and regularity of Pope * : but, to such critics, I have nothing to say. If they be serious and sincere, they are as extra- ordinary anomalies as any of those which they admire, and afford ample illustration of the proverb, that there is no disputing concerning tastes. • See Webb on Poetry. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 117 £5'. English verse arises from a limited and chat. regulated distribution of accents and pauses, as __ *r 11 /- • • i -n i t_ Of unproved well as ot quantities; and, as irope lias ob- Perception. served *, in the heroic verse of ten syllables, a pause naturally falls upon the fourth, fifth, or sixth syllable ; besides that at the end of every verse; which equally takes place in every kind of metre in every language ; since, without it, the verse is only a distinct portion of measure to the eye, but not at all to the ear. Milton has, however, frequently no pause at the end of the verse, but occasionally upon every other syllable, from the first to the ninth ; and this licence has been applauded, as adding endless variety to the harmony of his versification j*« That it must add variety either to the harmony or dissonance of language, I admit: but the very essence of verse consists in the variety of its harmony not being endless, but being limited to the changes, that certain divisions of articu- late sound, determinate in their quantities, regulated in their modes of utterance, and corresponding to, or succeeding each other, are capable of. Language may have more variety of cadence without these limitations or regulations ; but then it will not be versi- fied language, although it be duly and correctly measured out into lines of ten syllables each : * Fourth Letter to Walsh. f Webb on Poetry. 13 118 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. neither will it have that elastic energy and ra- ~, . , pidity of movement, which give a character of Of improved J . © Perception, enthusiasm; and, in fact, make it poetry* : for it is this character of enthusiasm, that marks the poetical language of all nations ; and to this a metrical division, strongly marked by limited pauses or accents, or similar terminations of the verses, as in the Greek and Latin hexa- meter, or English couplet, is certainly most appropriate. 26. The principle of harmony, as Dionysius of Halicarnassus has observed, is the same in prose as in verse ; it consisting in certain ar- rangements of quantities, accents, and pauses in both; which, in the one, are without limita- tion or restraint ; but, in the other, are restricted by rules, and measured out into given portions ; which succeed each other, either immediately, as in our heroic metre ; alternately, as in our elegiac and lighter lyric ; or after certain periods, as in our pindaric or graver lyric. It is possible that a person may prefer free and unrestrained language, in all cases, to that which is restricted to rule and measure; as it • The critic above cited says, in praise of a line, that the breast actually labours to get through it. Dial. i. p. 46*. To employ labour in writing may be a merit, if it be em- ployed with taste ; but to require labour in reading is a species of ponderous excellence, that never yet found favour in the ears of any but a systematic critic. PART IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 119 is possible that he may prefer ale to champagne ; chap. but let him not, therefore, hold up licence as _,. *" r i it l Of improved the perfection of rule, or malt liquor, as the Perception, only pure wine. Hall, Donne, Hobbes, and Crashaw are as licentious in their pauses as Milton ; and distribute them, with the same irregularity, through the verse, from the first to the ninth syllable ; and, if this licence be so exquisite a beauty, and add so much to har- mony, their versification ought to be preferred to that of Dryden, Pope, or Goldsmith : but, unfortunately, they have not deserved or ac- quired so great a name, in other respects, as Milton ; and the authority of a name is a medium, through which critics of this class discover innumerable excellencies, which other- wise would have remained as imperceptible to them as to the rest of mankind. The great and transcendent merits of Milton's poetry may excuse even greater blemishes and defects than are to be found in it : but to hear these defects and blemishes, the stains of negligence and rust of antiquity, extolled and recom- mended as refinements of taste and artifice, cannot but excite the indignation of every writer, whose indignation is not stifled by con- tempt. 27. Poetry is the language of inspiration, and consequently of enthusiasm ; and it ap- pears to me that a methodical arrangement of I 4 120 PRINCIPLES OP TASTE cha?. the sound into certain equal or corresponding „. x ' , portions, called verses, the terminations of Of improved ... .... . . , . . Perception, which are distinctly marked to the ear; and the subdivisions or pauses of which are limited within certain bounds, is absolutely necessary to sustain that steady rapidity of utterance and exaltation above the ordinary tone of common speech; which can alone give a continued cha- racter of enthusiastic expression to any exten- sive composition. It is only by a constant preconception of what is to follow, that the poetical flow of utterance and elevation of tone are sustained : for unless the reader be gene- rally apprized of what is to come, by what has gone before, he is like a person walking blind- folded over an uneven road ; and knows as little how to modulate his voice, as such a person does how to regulate his steps : both march timidly, and consequently without vehe- mence or enthusiastic animation, in the just expression of which poetry consists ; and to free it from metre and rhyme ; restraints, with which, it has been said, that only the ignorance or necessities of a rude age have shackled it *, would be in fact to deprive it of its essence. 28. It is observed by Dr. Johnson, that the Paradise Lost is one of the books, which the reader admires and lays down, and forgets to • See Alison's Essays on Taste, p. 318. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 121 take up Ugmn. None ever wished it longer cuap. than it is. Its perusal is a duty rather than Q , . fi a pleasure. We read Milton for instruction, p ception. retire harassed and over-burdened, and look elsexchcre for recreation * / If we clip into the Iliad, we are immediately borne along by the enthusiastic vehemence of the poet's diction, as it were by a torrent; and even in the Odys- sey, the ^ineid, or Jerusalem, Ave glide down the stream without labour or effort ; but, in the Paradise Lost, we are perpetually tugging at the oar ; and though we discover, at every turn, what fills us with astonishment and delight, the discovery is, nevertheless, a work of toil and exertion : consequently we can only enjoy it, when the powers of attention are fresh and vigorous ; no man ever flying to the Paradise Lost, as he does to the works of other great epic poets, as a refuge from lassitude or de- jection. Yet surely the first and most essential merit of poetry is to be pleasing — to exhilarate and exalt the spirits by brilliant imagery and enthusiastic sentiment, rather than to overawe and depress by gloomy grandeur and sour morality. " On peut etre a la fois et pompeux et plaisant, Et je hais un sublime ennuycux et pesant." 2Q. This great defect, the want of the power to please and amuse, I cannot but think as - Life of Milton. 122 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. much owing to the nature of his versification, I# as to that of his subject: for we feel no such Perception, lassitude or depression from the same subjects, when treated by Tasso or Vida ; though, except in the lightness and elasticity of their versifica- tion, we cannot but allow that Milton has treated them more poetically, as well as more properly. In the scenes, too, of Paradise, and the loves of Adam and Eve, Milton's imagery is gay and beautiful, and his sentiments warm and rap- turous; but, nevertheless, that very irregu- larity of the pauses, which certain critics have so much commended, gives the character of prose to his verse, and deprives it of all that fire and enthusiasm of expression, which Pope has happily preserved in his translation of the corresponding passages of the Iliad. But come, so well refreshed, now let us play, As meet is, after such delicious fare ; For never did thy beauty, since the day 1 saw thee first, and wedded thee, adorn'd With all perfections, so inflame my sense With ardour to enjoy thee ; fairer now Than ever, bounty of this virtuous tree. Paradise Lost, ix. 1026. These softer moments, let delight employ, And kind embraces snatch the hasty joy. Not thus I loved thee, when, from Sparta's shore, My forced, my willing, heavenly prize, I bore ; PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 123 When first entranced in Cran'ae's isle I lay, chap. Mix'd with thy soul, and all dissolved away ! x - Of improved Pope's Iliad, iii. 549. Perception. Adam's argument, in this case, is certainly more pointed and logical, than that of the young Trojan ; but pointed and logical argu- ment is not what the case required. The rap- turous glow of enthusiastic passion, with which the latter addresses his mistress, would have much more influence upon the affections of an amorous lady, though it may be less satisfac- tory to the understanding of a learned critic. The language of Homer and of Pope is such as Paris might have really used, and used with effect; but had he made love to Helen in the language of Milton, Menelaus might have trust- ed him with perfect security. In such passages, as the following, the ad- mirers of the irregular variety of Miltonic pauses, will find some difficulty in discovering any thing like verse ; since even scanning the syllables upon their fingers will scarcely enable them to measure the lines. " To whom the angel. Therefore what he gives, whose praise be ever sung, to man, in part spiritual, may, of purest spirits, be found no ungrateful food : and, food alike, those pure intelligential substances require, as doth your rational; and both contain, within them, every lower faculty of sense, whereby 124 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. they hear, see, smell, touch, taste; tasting concoct, J * digest assimilate, and corporeal to incorporeal turn." Of improved v^-JU^j Here are ten lines taken from one of the most admired books of the poem : but it ap- pears to me (perhaps for want of taste and discernment) that any ten lines transcribed from his history of the Heptarchy, might with equal propriety be ranked with poetry *. That they may be excused, however, in a long work on account of the beauties, by which they are counterbalanced, I readily admit; an d of time*." # # # # # # # # # * # * * # * # # # # # # # # # # # # # * # # * # # * # " It appears that, in all the successive " changes, which language has undergone, as " the world advanced, the understanding has " gained ground on the fancy and imagination. " The progress of language, in this respect, re- " sembles the progress of age in man. The " imagination is most vigorous and predo- " minant in youth ; with advancing years the " imagination cools, and the understanding " ripens. Thus language, proceeding from " sterility to copiousness, hath, at the same M time, proceeded from vivacity to accuracy ; " from fire and enthusiasm to coolness and " precision'}" !" 33. The collocation of words, -according to the order of desire or imagination, it is easy to perceive, must have been much better adapted to the purposes of poetry, than the collocation of them according to the order of the under- standing ; but a variety of flexible terminations is absolutely necessary to make words, so ar- * P. 138. f P- 143- PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 1 29 ranged, intelligible; and, in these, all the chap. polished lan^ua^es of modern Europe are de- i: K. . . 3 _° . . . .. , , , Of improved fective: wheretore it is impossible that they p erc . ept j on should ever rival those of the Greeks and Romans in poetical diction and expression. No language is more inflexible than the Ens;- lish ; and none, except perhaps the French, requires its words to be arranged more strictly according to the order of the understanding: but, nevertheless, when glowing sentiment or passion is to be expressed ; or when the mind of the speaker is so agitated as to be more under the influence of feeling, than of thought, it often reverts to the primitive order ; and allows, without any violation of idiom, the words to be arranged by natural impulse in- stead of artificial reflection or acquired habit. That, which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have says Macbeth, when agitated by remorse and despair; and the passage would lose all its energy and beauty, were the words arranged according to the regular process of thought, with the agent first, the action next, and the object last — " I must not look to have honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, &c. which ought to accompany old age*." Shakspeare, * " Yidesne, ut ordiae verborum paulum commutato, iisdem K 130 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. who wrote from feeling, has many happy in- l ' stances of the same kind ; as " me of my Percep^on. lawful pleasure, she bereft, &c. ;" but Milton, and other epic and moral writers in blank verse, who viewed nature through the medium of books, and wrote from the head rather than the heart, have often employed this inverted order merely to stiffen their diction, and keep it out of prose ; an artifice, of all others, the most adverse to the genuine purposes of a metrical or poetical style ; which, though known to be the result of study and labour, should always appear to flow from inspiration. In matters of taste, it is of little importance what the understanding knows by inference or analogy; but it is different with what the ima- gination perceives by immediate impression. D4. The pleasure, which we receive from verse, in light or didactic compositions ; or such as are not capable of exciting or sustain- ing enthusiasm, arises from the charms of neatness, point, and emphasis ; all of which are improved and invigorated by the regularity of a metrical style, which facilitates the flow of utterance, and directs and fixes the atten- tion to the particular idea, which the author wishes to impress most strongly. By these means, as well as by the periodical recurrence iisdem verbis stante sententia, ad nihilum omnia recident, cum sint ex aptis dissoluta." — Cic. Orator. P 'IpllOll. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 131 of similar quantities or modifications of sound, chap. it also greatly facilitates remembrance; and '• .. ... , , , Of improved to facilitate remembrance seems to have been p ■,. IM | 1 , lll the original use and purpose of verse : whence the muses were fabled to be the daughters of memory ; and the oldest metrical writer extant addresses his most earnest and emphatical prayer to them, not to obtain their inspiration in developing the counsels of the gods, or in relating the actions of Diomede or Achilles, but to procure their assistance in compiling the catalogue of the Grecian army. 35. In the accentual pronunciation of the different languages of modern Europe, each pronounces the Greek and Latin words ac- cordingly as words of the same number of syllables are usually pronounced in their own . respective languages. Thus an Englishman pronounces the first syllable of the verb ca?io, and of the adjective caiuis, equally long ; and a Frenchman, equally short; though it be in- variably long in the latter, and invariably short in the former. In conformity to the idiom of our own language, we also arbitrarily alter the quantity of the first syllable of a word, when another is added to the end of it; as in virum and virus ; which are always pronounced as trochees ; while -clrumque and virusque are as invariably turned into amphibrachys. The first K 2 1S2 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chat. syllable of the one is, however, uniformly short, _„ '* and of the other, uniformly lon^. Of improved „ _ '. , ,. % 6 • , - , Perception 36. ■" ut notwithstanding these violations of quantity, which all the nations of Europe com- mit, in different mode.> and degrees; each rinds melody in the verses of the Gieek and Latin poets, when pronounced after its own fashion ; and the ears of each are equally offended at hearing them pronounced after any other fashion. This alone, were there no other in- stance, abundantly proves the great influence of habit and imagination, and the little influ- ence of sensation, in matters of this kind. All agree in fixing a pause at the end of the line or stanza ; and in giving it a regularly marked termination of some kind or other; and this instantly constitutes verse, which each nation puts into tune according to the particular ha- bitual pronunciation of its own language ; and with this tune or mode of reading, he it ever so anomalous, all, who speak that language, are satisfied, and even delighted. Every de- viation from it, though strictly according to the laws of metre, offends them; because, when their own pronunciation has been familiarized, and, as it were, naturalized, to their ears, every other sounds foreign, and consequently ridi- culous, upon a principle, that will be explained, when we come to treat of ridicule. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 1S3 '37. As each of these various modes of read- chap. ins preserves the character of verse, though - r . *' 01 .. .. . , Of improved all 10 different ways, and all differing trom the Perception. metrical laws of the original language, that v -^-v-"W character may nevertheless be capable of an- swering its purposes, both in maintaining the character of enthusiasm by giving an uniform exaltation to the style above that of common speech, and in enhancing the charms of point, neatness, and emphasis, in compositions of another kind. Where the sense of the lines is vigorous and impassioned; and strongly ex- pressive of enthusiasm and inspiration, we naturally endeavour to recite them with a cor- respondent tone of utterance ; and how ano- malous soever the particular divisions of it may be, the general flow will be sufficiently main- tained, by the effort itself, to preserve the character and spirit of poetry. To pretend that the ear is more delighted with the versifi- cation of Virgil than with that of Manilius, when every principle of metre is violated in the pronunciation, may seem like affectation : but, nevertheless, the glowing animated sense and polished periods of the one will inspire the reader with a flow and facility in his tone of utterance, which the other can never obtain ; and thus dupe the ear through the medium of I the imagination. Hence I have known per- sons really and sincerely delighted with the k S 134 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. versification of the Latin poets, and capable ~, . , of discriminating accurately their respective Ur improved . . Perception, merits; who have all violated the metre in different, and even opposite ways ; one by cor- rupting it to the English, another to the French, another to the German, and another to the Italian standard of pronunciation. It is common, too, in each of these nations, and in none more common than our own, to meet with learned persons, who, while they pro- nounce without any regard to quantity, are extremely acute in discovering any error or defect in the structure or formation of a verse : but, though they attribute this faculty to nicety of ear, it is in fact merely accuracy of memory, and readiness of discernment, in which the perfection of the organ has no concern • it being employed merely as the instrument of perception. They knozo the respective quan- tities of every word in the language, and of every foot in the verse ; and therefore imme- diately perceive a syllable out of its place ; but this perception is the result of acquired knowledge, and not of organic refinement. I remember a copy of Latin verses being shown to some learned men, in which the word gladius was employed as a dactyle; and they all instantly exclaimed against the writer for having no ear; at the same time that each of them pronounced the first syllable of the word, PART II. ASSOCIATION - OF IDEAS. 135 longer than almost any in the language. Had chap. they accused the writer of want of knowledge u , , , ~ r Of improved or memory, and themselves ot want ot ear, p erce p ri , ,,. their censures would have been just. K 4 1S6 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: CHAPTER II. OF IMAGINATION. chap. l. The habit of associating our ideas hav & ii. ing commenced with our earliest perceptions, Of Imagina- . & . . , . " . \ . ' tion. the process ot it, whatever it was in its begin- ning, has become so spontaneous and rapid in adult persons, that it seems to be a mechanical operation of the mind, which we cannot directly influence or control : those ideas, which we have once associated, associating themselves again in our memories of their own accord ; and presenting themselves together to our notice, whether we will or not. Hence agree- able and disagreeable trains of thought and imagery are often excited by circumstances no otherwise connected with them than by having before occurred to our minds at the same time, or in the same place, or in the same company; and these trains of thought will continue to haunt us in spite of all that we can do to free ourselves from them ; so that we feel ourselves in a situation not unlike that of a moth fluttering round a candle. At other times the contrary takes place ; and pleasant and brilliant trains will succeed each other in the most rapid and delightful transitions ; though, perhaps, excited at first by circum- PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 1S7 stances and situations by no means pleasing in themselves; and continued without any in- tentional effort, or other cause that we can assign. 2. In proportion as persons are respectively liable, by the natural constitutions of their minds and bodies, to associate their ideas in these several trains, their dispositions are me- lancholy or gay ; and if either be carried to such excess as to break the natural connection, or derange the natural order of them, the effect is lunacy ; whence that malady is often partial, affecting some particular trains of ideas, which have been connected with vio- lent or long continued emotions of affection or passion ; whilst all the others proceed with the utmost regularity without manifesting any signs or symptoms of perturbation even in the most complicated evolutions of thought. 3. Intoxication is a temporary lunacy aris- ing from a similar derangement in the trains of ideas, caused by the irritation, produced in the stomach by wine or other intoxicating liquors or drugs, extending itself to the brain ; as it does almost instantaneously, when large quantities are taken at a time. If taken gra- dually, it at first only stimulates and quickens the action of the mind, so as to produce sudden gleams or coruscations, either of wit or folly, either of imagery or conceit, accordingly as the 138 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. natural vigour or acquired furniture of the "* . understanding may be calculated to supply tkm. 1D e i tner the one or the other. But, as the irrita- tion is increased, the action is increased too ; so that, at length, it becomes so rapid and violent, that it can no longer be limited or regulated by any principles of logical con- nection or coherence ; and the most wild and extravagant combinations, both of thought and imagery, ensue. 4. Similar effects of excessive and irregular action also take place in dreams, which equally proceed from the irritations of the stomach being extended to the brain : whence that de- gree of intemperance, which does not cause absolute intoxication, is almost always fol- lowed by turbid and incoherent dreams. The infusions also of exhilarating plants and drugs, such as tea, coffee, opium, &c, which are all intoxicating in different modes and degrees, will produce similar effects, if taken to excess : for all exhilaration of the spirits produced by stimulants is a degree of intoxication. 5. As the irritations of the stomach, in cases of intoxication, disorder the mind through the medium of the brain ; so do all violent irrita* tions of the mind, such as those of excessive grief, anxiety, or vexation, disorder the sto- mach through the same medium; loss of digestion and atrophy being generally the PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 139 proximate, or, more properly speaking, the instrumental causes of death in those persons, who die of what is called a broken heart : a malady, which, I suspect, kills a great many more than it has credit for. 6. Some persons have constitutionally such a vivacity of spirits — such a restlessness rather than fertility of imagination, ever showing itself in new combinations of imagery, some- times just and pleasing, and sometimes the reverse, that they may be properly said to live naturally in a state bordering on intoxication ; their spirits being as much the effect of stimu- lants as those which are given by wine ; but of natural and constitutional stimulants, which rise and operate occasionally, and then leave them low and vapid till the nerves have re- covered their irritability or power of action : for such persons have always their ebbs and flows of spirits ; the fit of vivacity being inva- riably followed by one of dejection. Hence wit and madness are said to be nearly allied : since, if these constitutional and inherent sti- mulants act upon machinery too weak to bear them, they will of course break it. In minds of adequate vigour, endued with just feelings, and enriched with various imagery, the com- binations, which they excite, though unusual and diversified, will always be just and cohe- rent ; and, in the readiness and facility of such 140 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: combinations, wit properly consists. But, if the proportionate strength of the stimulants be too great, and the action, in consequence, too violent, though the readiness and facility of combination may remain, or even be in- creased, the justness and coherence of it is gone, and madness, of course, becomes the result. 7. As madness arises from the association of ideas being deranged, so does idiotcy from its being defective; the powers of intellect being, in the one, either totally, or in part, disordered; and, in the other, in a greater or less degree, deficient. Hence, while madmen reason wrongly on particular points, idiots reason feebly and imperfectly on all : for reason, when not employed upon number or quantity is purely association ; as will be ex- plained in the next Chapter. The primary perceptions of both lunatics and idiots appear to be as correct and perfect as those of the most discreet and wise of the species : for, unless where the external organs of sense are defective, they all can perceive and discrimi- nate flavours, odours, colours, and sounds, clearly and distinctly ; though, in idiots, the power of retaining, as well as that of combin- ing the ideas excited by them, is generally defective ; whilst, in lunatics, it is often ren- dered useless, either by the violent emotions to PART IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 141 which they are subject, or the entire posses- chap. -ion, which the disordered trains of ideas have Q f i, nag j na _ obtained, of their minds. Hence only the na- tion. tural, and not the acquired, or improved per- ceptionb of either, are correct. 8. In proportion to the vigour and extent of this retaining faculty; and to the number and variety of images, with which observation, study, and experience, have enriched it, will the powers of association be multiplied, and their operations varied and extended. Me- mory, may, indeed, exist without imagination; but imagination can never act without the aid of memory ; no image or idea having ever been formed or conceived by the most fertile or extravagant fancy, the component elements of which had not been previously received into this storehouse of the mind through the ex- ternal organs of sense. We may compose, paint, and describe monsters and chimeras of every extravagant variety of form : but still, if we analyse them, we shall always find that the component parts, how much soever they may be distorted or disguised, have been taken from objects, or qualities of objects, with which wc have previously become acquainted through the organs of sensation. 9. As the same perfection of organization, which produces a vigorous memory, must, in the common course of nature, produce a vigo- 142 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. rous imagination, I suspect, that, wherever "' there is much appearance of memory and little Of Imagma- c . . . . r . . . tion. °* imagination, the memory is artificial ; and the ideas, with which it is stored, only such as have been imprinted upon it by dint of labour and application ; whence they have become fixed and inflexible, so that they can only be brought forth in the order in which they were received. Men, whose minds have been thus formed, can often go through the minutest details of a prolix narrative, or the most com- plicated subtleties of a perplexed argument, with circumstantial accuracy and unerring pre- cision : but it is only when they have an op- portunity of narrating or arguing methodically. That promptitude of illustration, facility of transition, and rapidity of application, which require a memory, that can, at any time, supply materials for new, as well as retain old com- binations, they are ever incapable of acquir- ing: whence, though they may excel in the schools, the pulpit, or the college, they are wholly unfit for desultory debate or familiar conversation. 10. There is another class of persons, who are directly the reverse of these — whose me- mories are naturally retentive, and vvho are always furnishing them with new images and ideas, which they can, at all times, bring forth with the utmost promptitude and facility : but TART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. MS having no discernment or judgment to guide chap. them in the selection of what they amass, nor nr *" . , , . , , .. Of Imaema- iccling to regulate them in the use and appli- tion cation of it, they encumber without enriching their memories, and stimulate without feeding their imaginations ; whence they pour out, at random, whatever suggests itself, without con- sidering whither it tends, how it is connected, or to what it may be applied. 11. Of these two classes of talkers, the first are commonly called prosers, and the second prattlers. In the one, the manure thrown upon the mind is without soil, and therefore only continues to stink. In the other, it is M-ithout culture, and therefore only produces weeds. 12. As all the pleasures of intellect arise from the association of ideas, the more the materials of association are multiplied, the more will the sphere of these pleasures be en- larged. To a mind richly stored, almost every object of nature or art, that presents itself to the senses, either excites fresh trains and com- binations of ideas, or vivifies and strengthens those which existed before : so that recol- lection enhances enjoyment, and enjoyment brightens recollection. Every insect, plant, or fossil, which the peasant treads upon un- heeded, is, to the naturalist and philosopher, a subject of curious inquiry and speculation, — 144 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. first, as to its structure, formation, or means ^ c T lI * . of existence or propagation ; — and then, as to Of Imagina- . • \ tiou. lts comparative degree, or mode ot connection with others of the same or different kinds ; and the respective rantfs and situations, which they all severally hold in the graduated system of created beings. To the eye of the uninformed observer, the sublime spectacle of the heavens presents nothing but a blue vault bespangled with twinkling fires: but, to the learned and enlightened, it displays unnumbered worlds, distributed through the boundless vacuity of unmeasurable space ; and peopled, perhaps, with different orders of intelligent beings, as- cending, in an uninterrupted scale of gradation from the lowest dregs of animated matter to the incomprehensible throne of Omnipotence itself. 13. In the same manner, when we descend to a lower and more limited sphere of ob- servation, and contemplate the artificial pro- ductions of social life, we shall find that the trains of association in our ideas will be mul- tiplied and extended, as the circles of our knowledge are expanded ; and that the scale of our enjoyments resulting from them will be enlarged in the same proportion. If we men- tion London or Paris to a person only dis- tantly and generally acquainted with them, a confused mass of ideas of multitudes of houses, PART IT. ASSOCIATION" OF IDF.AS. 145 churches, and inhabitants, will present itself: chap. 1 1. if to one, who has visited these capitals, the , . .. . Of Imagma- confusion will be dispelled, and the distinct tiori. ideas of spacious streets, sumptuous palaces, and all the various objects of wealth and grandeur, which he saw there, will sponta- neously arise, in the order of their association, to his imagination : — if to one, who has re- sided long in either of them, in addition to these ideas, and prior in order to them, the more interesting remembrances of the social connections, which he formed there, the com- panions, with whom he lived, and the friends, in whom he confided, with the various events of prosperity or adversity, which have since befallen them, will present themselves in the same order, and excite their correspondent emotions of solace or regret — of gratulation or sorrow. 14. To descend into a still lower and more confined sphere, let us apply this principle to the subjects of our present inquiry ; and we shall find that much of the pleasure, which we receive from painting, sculpture, music, poetry, &c. arises from our associating other ideas with those immediately excited by them. Hence the productions of these arts are never thoroughly enjoyed but by persons, whose minds are enriched by a variety of kindred and corresponding imagery; the extent and J. 146 PRINCIPLES OF taste: compass of which, allowing for different de- grees of sensibility, and habits of attention, will form the scale of such enjoyment. Nor are the gratifications, . which such persons re- ceive from these arts limited to their mere productions, but extended to every object in nature or circumstance in society, that is at all connected with them : for, by such con- nection, it will be enabled to excite similar or associated trains of ideas, in minds so enriched, and consequently to afford them similar plea- sures. 15. Of this description are the objects and circumstances called picturesque : for, except in the instances, before explained, of pleasing effects of colour, light, and shadow, they afford no pleasure, but to persons conversant, with the art of painting, and sufficiently skilled in it to distinguish, and be really delighted with its real excellences. To all others, how acute soever may be their discernment, or how ex- quisite soever their sensibility, it is utterly imperceptible : consequently there must be some properties in the fine productions of this art, which, by the association of ideas, com- municate the power of pleasing to certain ob- jects and circumstances of its imitation, which are therefore called picturesque. 16. No word corresponding to this, or of exactly similar meaning, is to be found in any . i'ART II. ASSOCIATION" OF IDEAS. 147 of the languages of antiquity now extant; nor in anv modern tongue, as far as I have been able to discover, except such as have borrowed it from the Italian ; in which, the earliest au* thority, that I can find for it, is that of Redi, one of the original academicians of la Crusca, who flourished towards the end of the sixteenth century. The Spanish does not appear to have yet received it : at least it is not to be found in the great authorized dictionary of that language, the completest work of the kind that has been hitherto executed, and far ex- ceeding those of the French and Italian aca- demies in every respect. In our own language, it has lately been received into very general use : but, nevertheless, it has not been con- sidered as perfectly naturalized among us : for Johnson has not admitted it into his dictionary, though he has received the word pictorial, as the Spaniards have the word pictorico ; both of which answer in meaning to the Greek ad- jective y^apoco? ; except that, in the Greek> the arts of writing, painting, and engraving being expressed by the same verb, any adjective or metaphor taken from it must, of course, have a more extensive, and less determinate signi- fication. The Abbe Winkelman, who under- stood nothing of the Greek language, translates ygsiQixov, in a passage of Strabo, picturesque ; and my friend Mr. Price has received his inter- l 2 148 TRrNCIPLES OF TASTE: pretation without examining it ; though, as the object, to which the epithet relates, is an ^Egyptian temple of plain architecture, of which the geographer merely says that it had x$w xotgitv, hSi ycxtpiKov, it does not afford much either of illustration or confirmation to his hypothesis. Had the German antiquary chanced to stumble upon such an expression as ygoMpmov pieQpov, we cannot doubt, from the specimen, which we have already had of his learning and sagacity, but he would have trans- lated it picturesque stream ; and this would have exactly suited my friend's purpose. Un- fortunately, however, had his usual accuracy of research, or any suspicions of the infalli- bility of his guide, led him to look at the con- text, or even to consult his lexicon, he would have found that this sonorous phrase only means ink, more commonly called pi\a.v ygoitpwov. 1 7. According to the idiom of the Italian language, by which the meaning of all ad- jectives ending in esco is precisely ascertained, piticresco must mean, after the maimer of painters : whence we may reasonably infer that painting had, at that time, appropriated to itself certain descriptions of objects for repre- sentation ; or had adopted some peculiar mode of representing them different from simple or common imitation ; which peculiar mode would naturally give them a peculiar character in the PART IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 149 eyes of persons familiar with, and skilled in that art. 18. At its first revival, as at its first com- mencement, painting, like sculpture in its first stage, pretended only to exact imitation ; the truth and precision of which formed the scale of its merit, as they do still in the estimation of the ignorant. In the human figure it at- tempted to distinguish the several hairs of the head, and the pores of the skin ; and when it aimed at producing any thing like landscape, it was by copying distinctly every blade in the grass, every leaf in the trees, and every stone or brick in the buildings, which it tried to represent. 19. It was soon, however, discovered that this was rather copying what the mind knew to be, from the concurrent testimony of ano- ther sense, than what the eye saw ; and that, even had it been practicable to the utmost ex- tent and variety of nature, it would not have been a true representation of the visible ap- pearance of things : for the eye, when at a sufficient distance to comprehend the whole of a human figure, a tree, or a building, within the field of vision, sees parts so comparatively minute as the hair, the leaves, and the atones or bricks, in masses, and not individually. 20. Hence the mode of imitation was chano - - ed ; and, as this massing gave breadth to the l 3 150 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE; lights and shadows, mellowed them into each other, and enabled the artist to break and blend them together ; all which add much to the ten- derness, lustre, and beauty of the productions of this art, the great painters of the Venetian and Lombard schools ; and afterwards those of the Flemish and Dutch, carried this prin- ciple of massing to a degree beyond what appears in ordinary nature ; and departed from the system of strict imitation in a con- trary extreme to that of their predecessors. Instead of making their line's more distinct, and keeping their tints more separate, than the visible appearance of the objects of imi- tation warranted, they blended and melted them together with a playful and airy kind of lightness, and a sort of loose and sketchy indistinctness not observable in the reality, unless under peculiar circumstances and mo- difications of the atmosphere ; and then only in those objects and combinations of objects, which exhibit blended and broken tints, or irregular masses of light and shadow harmo- niously melted into each other. SI* Such are the objects and compositions of objects, which we properly call picturesque ; and we find that the style of painting, which distinguished them as such, was invented by Georgione about the beginning, and perfected ]bv litian about the middle of the sixteenth PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 151 century ; soon after which the word made its first appearance in the Italian, and, I believe, in any language. 22. Indeed, if we consider the natural and necessary connection between words and ideas ; and the progressive order, in which the former arise out of the latter, it will appear impossible that it should have existed sooner : for till painters had adopted some distinct manner of imitating nature, appropriate to their own art, men could never have thought of distinguish- ing any object or class of objects by an epithet signifying after the manner of painters : since, unless painters had some peculiar manner, such epithet could mark no peculiar discrimination, nor have any distinct meaning. 23. Tints happily broken and blended, and irregular masses of light and shadow harmo- niously melted into each other, are, in them- selves, as before observed, more grateful to the eye, than any single tints, upon the same principle that harmonious combinations of tones or flavours are more grateful to the ear or the palate, than any single tones or flavours can be. They are therefore more properly beautiful, according to the strictest meaning of the word beauty, when applied to that which is pleasing to the sense only ; and not, as it usually is, to that, which is alike pleasing to the senses, the intellect and the imagination • l 4 152 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE ! according to which comprehensive significa~ tion of the word, many objects, that we call picturesque, certainly are not beautiful ; since they may be void of symmetry, neatness, clean- ness^ &c. ; all which are necessary to consti- tute that kind of beauty, which addresses itself to the understanding and the fancy. 24. ,The sensual pleasure arising from view- ing objects and compositions, which we call picturesque, may be felt equally by ail mankind in proportion to the correctness and sensibility of their organs of sight ; for it is wholly inde- pendent of their being picturesque, or after the manner of painters. But this very rela- tion to painting, expressed by the word pic- turesque, is that, which affords the whole pleasure derived from association ; which can, therefore, only be felt by persons, who have correspondent ideas to associate ; that is, by persons in a certain degree conversant with that art. Such persons being in the habit of viewing, and receiving pleasure from fine pic- tures, will naturally feel pleasure in viewing those objects in nature, which have called forth those powers of imitation and embellishment ; and those combinations and circumstances of objects, which have guided those powers in their happiest exertions. The objects recall to the mind the imitations, which skill, taste, and genius have produced ; and these again, PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 153 recall to the mind the objects themselves, and :- ] iow them through an improved medium — > that of the feeling and discernment of a great artist. 25. By thus comparing nature and art, both the eve and the intellect acquire a higher relish for the productions of each ; and the ideas, excited by both, are invigorated, as well as refined, by being thus associated and con- trasted. The pleasures of vision acquire a wider range, and find enr less gratifications, at once exquisite and innocent, in all the variety of productions, whether animal, vegetable, or mineral, which nature has scattered over the earth. All display beauty in some combi- nations or others ; and when that beauty has been selected, imitated, and embellished by art, those, who before overlooked or neglected it, discern at once all its charms through this dis- criminating medium ; and when the sentiment, which it excited, was new to them, they called those appearances pf things, which excited it, by a new name, picturesque :- — a word, that is now become extremely common and familiar in our own tongue ; and which, like all other foreign words, that are become so, is very fre- quently employed improperly. 2o\ The skilful painter, like the skilful poet, passes slightly over those parts of his subject, which neither the compass of his art, npr the 154 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: nature of his materials, allow him to represent with advantage ; and employs all his labour and attention upon those, which he can adorn and embellish. These are the picturesque parts ; that is, those which nature has formed in the style and manner appropriate to paint- ing ; and the eye, that has been accustomed to $ee these happily displayed and embellished by art, will relish them more in nature ; as a per- son conversant with the writings of Theocritus and Virgil will relish pastoral scenery more than one unacquainted with such poetry. The spectator, having his mind enriched with the embellishments of the painter and the poet, applies them, by the spontaneous association of ideas, to the natural objects presented to his eye, which thus acquire ideal and imaginary beauties; that is, beauties, which are not felt by the organic sense of vision ; but by the intellect and imagination through that sense. 27. To attempt to analyze, class, or enume- rate the objects in nature,, which are, in this proper sense of the word, picturesque, would be vain and impracticable ; as they compre- hend, in some degree, every thing of every kind, which has been, or may be represented to advantage in painting : and, if the scale of imitation in that art should be hereafter ex- tended, the boundaries of the picturesque will be extended in the same proportion. Lately PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 155 too, the word has been extended to criticism, chap. and employed to signify that clear and vivid TI ' . , „ . i • ! • i • Of Imagina* style of narration or description, which paints t ion7 to the imagination, and shows every event or object distinctly, as if represented in a pic- ture *i But, according to my friend Mr. Price's system, this employment of it must be improper ; and it ought to signify that middle stile, which is not sufficiently smooth to be beautiful, nor sufficiently rough and ele- vated to be sublime. In objects of imitative art, we properly call picturesque, not only those of the most opposite kinds, but those which mark the opposite extremes of the same kind. The boors of Ostade, the peasants of Gainsborough, and the shepherds of Berghem, are picturesque ; but so likewise are the war- riors of Salvator Rosa, the apostles of Raphael, and the bacchanalians of Poussin : nor is the giant oak of Ruysdael, or full-grown pine or ilex of Claude, less so than the stumpy de-? cayed pollard of Rubens^-or Rembrandt : nor the shaggy worn-out hack or cart-horse of Morland or Asselyn, than the pampered war-* horse with luxuriant mane, and flowing tail, which we so justly admire in the pictures of Wovermans. The dirty and tattered garments, the dishevelled hair, and general wild appear^ * See Blair's Lectures, 156 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE; ance of gipsies and beggar girls are often pic turesque : but the flowing ringlets, fine shawls, and robes of delicate muslin thrown into all the easy, negligent, and playful folds of antique drapery by polished grace and refined elegance, are still more so, The first, indeed, are merely picturesque ; that is, they have only the painter's beauties of harmonious variety of tint, and light and shade, blended with every thing else, that is disgusting ; while the others have these in an equal, or even superior degree, in addi- tion to the charms of lightness, neatness, and purity. The mouldering ruins of ancient tenn pies, theatres, and aqueducts, enriched by such a variety of tints, all mellowed into each other, as they appear in the landscapes of Claude, are, in the highest degree, picturesque : but the magnificent quays and palaces, adorned with porticos and balustrades, and intermixed with shipping, which enrich the seaports of the same master, are likewise picturesque ; though in a less dearee ; for new buildings have an unity of tint, and sharpness of angle, which render them unfit for painting, unless when mixed with trees or some other objects, which may break and diversify their colour, and gra- duate and harmonize the abruptness of their lights and shadows. 28. Are not, therefore, new buildings beau-, {iful ? Unquestionably they are; and peciu 13 PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 157 liarly so : for neatness, freshness, lightness, chap, symmetry, regularity, uniformity, and propriety, n ' , are undoubtedly beauties ot the highest class ; t ion. though the pleasure, which they afford, is not simply a pleasure of the sense of seeing; nor one received by the mind through the medium of painting. But, upon the same principle, as the association of ideas renders those qua- lities in visible objects, which are peculiarly appropriate to painting, peculiarly pleasing to those conversant in that art ; so likewise does it render those qualities, which are peculiarly adapted to promote the comforts and enjoy- ments of social life, pleasing to the eye of civilized man ; though there be nothing, in the forms or colours of the objects themselves, in any degree pleasing to the sense ; but, per- haps, the contrary. Hence neatness and fresh- ness will always delight, if not out of character with the objects, in which they appear ; or with the scenery, with which they are con- nected : for the mind requires propriety in every thing ; that is, it requires that those pro- perties, the ideas of which it has been inva- riably habituated to associate, should be asso- ciated in reality • otherwise the combinations will appear to be unnatural, incoherent, or absurd. 29. For this reason we require, immediately adjoining the dwellings of opulence and lux- 158 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! ury, that every thing should assume its cha- racter ; and not only be, but appear to be dressed and cultivated. In such situations, neat gravel walks, mown turf, and flowering' plants and shrubs, trained and distributed by art, are perfectly in character ; although, if the same buildings were abandoned, and in ruins, we should, on the same principle of con- sistency and propriety, require neglected paths, rugged lanes, and m ilcl uncultivated thickets ; which are, in themselves, more pleasing, both to the eye and the imagination, but, unfit ac- companiments for objects, not only originally produced by art, but, in which, art is constantly employed and exhibited. Nevertheless a path with the sides shaggy and neglected, or a pic- turesque lane between broken and rugged banks, may be kept as clean, and as commo- dious for the purpose of walking, as the neatest gravel walk ; wherefore it is not upon any prin- ciple of reason, that the preference is, in such situations, justly given to the latter ; but merely upon that of the habitual association of ideas, which is, indeed, in effect, reason. 30. This sort of neatness should, on the same principle, be confined to the immediate appendages of the house; that is, to the grounds, which are so connected with it, as to appear necessary adjuncts to the dwelling, and therefore to be under the influence of the PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 159 same character, which is a character of art. chap. On this account, I think the avowed character "• of art of the Italian gardens preferable, in 0f *™ agiq garden scenery, to the concealed one now in fashion ; which is, in reality, rather counter- feited than concealed; for it appears in every thing ; but appears in a dress, that does not belong to it : at every step we perceive its ex- ertions ; but, at the same time, perceive that it has laboured much to effect little ; and that while it seeks to hide its character, it only, like a prostitute who affects modesty, discovers it the more. In the decorations, however, of ground adjoining a house, much should de- pend upon the character of the house itself: if it be neat and regular, neatness and res;u- larity should accompany it ; but if it be rug- ged and picturesque, and situated amidst scenery of the same character, art should approach it with more caution : for though it be, in itself, an avowed work of art ; yet the influence of time, with the accompaniments of trees and creepers, may have given it a cha- racter of nature, which ought to be as little disturbed, as is consistent with comfort : for, after all, the character of nature is more pleas- ing than any that can be given by art. 31. At all events the character of dress and artificial neatness ought never to be suffered to encroach upon the park or the forest ; iGo PRINCIPLES OF taste: chap. where it is as contrary to propriety as it is to "• . beauty; and where its introduction, by our Of Imagina- . > , , ^ lion! modern landscape gardeners, affords one of the most memorable instances of any recorded in the history of fashions, of the extravagant absurdity, with which an insatiate passion for novelty may infect a whole nation. 32. That this sense of propriety or con- gruity is entirely artificial, and acquired by the habitual association of ideas, we need no other proof, than its being wholly dependent upon variable circumstances : in the pictures of Claude and Gaspar, we perpetually see a mix- ture of Grecian and Gothic architecture em- ployed with the happiest effect in the same building; and no critic has ever yet objected to the incongruity of it : for, as the temples, tombs, and palaces of the Greeks and Romans in Italy were fortified with- towers and battle- ments by the Goths and Lombards in the middle ages, such combinations have been naturalized in that country ; and are, therefore, perfectly in harmony with the scenery ; and so far from interrupting the chain of ideas, that they lead it on and extend it, in the plea- santest manner, through different ages, and successive revolutions in tastes, arts, and sciences. 33. Perhaps, we are becoming; too rigid in rejecting such combinations in the buildings of PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. l6l bur own country: for they have been, in some chat. decree, naturalized here, as well as in Italy; _. ; te ' i J Of Imagina- though in a different order of succession, the tioa. Gothic having here preceded the Grecian. Nevertheless, the effect is the same ; the for- tresses of our ancestors, which, in the course of the two last centuries, were transformed into Italianized villas, and decked with the porticos, balustrades, and terraces of Jones and Palladio, affording, in many instances, the most beautiful compositions ; especially when mellowed by time and neglect, and harmonized and united by ivy, mosses, lichens, &c. Perhaps, however, as we always attach some ideas of regula- rity, neatness, or congruity to the word beauty, they may more exactly accord with what is generally expressed by the word picturesque; that is, the beauty of various tints and forms happily blended, without rule or symmetry, and rendered venerable by those imposing marks of antiquity, which the successive modes of deco- ration, employed by successive ages, and each become obsolete in its turn, afford. 34. This air of venerability (which belongs to the sublime, and not to the beautiful, and which will therefore be considered hereafter) cannot, it is true, be given to any new structures of this mixed kind : but, nevertheless, all the beauties of lightness, variety, and intricacy of M \G'l principles or taste: form, and light and shadow, may be carried to a degree, which no regular or homogenial build- ing (if I may use the expression) will admit of. Alter all, too, this congruity, or strict historical unity of plan and design, is only felt bv the learned ; or, at least, by those who imagine themselves to be so : for, upon this point, I believe, the pleasures and disgusts, which men feel, are, in a great measure, founded in error ; so that both would probably vanish, were they undeceived. 35. At this time, when the taste for Gothic architecture has been so generally revived, nothing is more common, than to hear profes- sors, as well as lovers, of the art, expatiating upon the merits of the pure Gothic ; and gravely endeavouring to separate it from those spurious and adscititious ornaments, by which it has lately been debased : but, nevertheless," if we ask what they mean by pure Gothic, we can receive no satisfactory answer : — there are no rules — no proportions — and, consequently, no definitions: but we are referred to certain models of generally acknowledged excellence ; which models are of two kinds, entirely differing from each other; the one called the castle, and the other the cathedral or monastic ; the one having been employed in the fortresses, and the other in the churches and convents of those PART II. ASSOCIATION" OF IDEAS. 103 nations, which divided the Roman empire, and chap. erected the states and kingdoms of modern „. _ Im . D Of Imagiria- Europe upon its rums. tion. 3d. In tracing back these nations, however, to the countries from which they came ; and examining the arts, which they exercised prior to their emigration, we can find no vestiges of either of these kinds of architecture ; nor, in- deed, of any architecture whatever • their for- tresses having, been mounds of earth, or piles of timber, sometimes driven into the ground, and sometimes clumsily framed together ; and their temples, circles of massive stones, rude from the quarry. It is, therefore, manifest that they either invented, or adopted both these styles of architecture after their settlement in the Roman empire ; and, consequently, after they had become acquainted with the buildings of those civilized nations, which they subdued. 37. That the military architecture of the Greeks and Romans consisted, from the earliest to the latest times, of walls and towers capped with battlements, is certain * ; but in what man- ner those battlements were formed and finished, is not so easily ascertained; there being no per- fect specimen of them extant. It is probable, '* The Greeks appear to have had private houses so fortified even in the time of the Peloponnesian war. oi ae AOtimiot ijfji.vvovro re iv. Qctvha Te^sc-f^aro; , y.oct air oiy.n/v ewj«A|e»? e^ho-uv. Thucyd. l.iv. f. 114. M 2 ](;4 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: however, that they differed in different ages, accordingly as the modes of attack and defence were varied. The overhanging battlements, now called Gothic, were certainly known to the Romans, as early as the reign of Titus : as there are, among the paintings of Herculaneum, re- presentations of walls and towers completely finished in this way*; and it is probable that this fashion continued down to the subver- sion of the empire, and was then adopted by the conquerors. It is, indeed, the natural mode of fortification for any people, skilled in masonry, and not acquainted with artillery, to employ ; as it afforded the most obvious and effective means of at once guarding the defend- ants, and annoying the assailants : wherefore it might have been used by different nations, which had no communication with each other ; and which might, with equal justice, claim the invention of it. The forms, proportions, and distribution of the towers, and their respective height, compared with that of the walls, as well as the general plans of the castles, to which they belonged, depended entirely upon circum- stances and situations ; and were confined by no rules or systems of architecture. 38. In like manner, the villas or country houses of the Romans were quite irregular — * Pittura d'lierculan. tom.i. tav.xlix. and torn. iii. tav. xli. II. Of Imagina- PAKT IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. l6S adapted to the situations, on which they were chap. placed — and spread out in every direction, according to the wants or inclinations ; the t i* n? taste, wealth, or magnificence of the respective owners. In those of great splendor and extent, such as that of the Emperor Hadrian at Tivoli, every species of decoration, then known, was employed in some part or other ; and though we have no precise accounts of military archi- tecture having a place in these edifices of luxury, we can scarcely doubt that it was employed in them for defence, if not for ornament, in the declining state of the monarchy; when the hordes of barbarians, which menaced the fron- tiers, and the gangs of robbers, which infested the interior, were little more terrible to the peaceful and wealthy inhabitants, than the legions of undisciplined soldiers employed to defend them. 39. That style of architecture, which we call cathedral or monastic Gothic, is manifestly a corruption of the sacred architecture of the Greeks and Romans, by a mixture of the Moorish or Saracenesque, which is formed out of a combination of the ^Egyptian, Persian, and Hindoo. It may easily be traced through all its variations, from the church of Santa Sophia at Constantinople, and the cathedral of Mon- treale near Palermo, the one of the sixth, and the other of the eighth century, down to King's m 3 16$ PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! were meant to be ornamental, were intended to adorn streets and squares, rather than parks or gardens. The Greek temples were, almost always, of an oblong square ; and, as the cells were, in general, small and simple, their magni- ficence was displayed in the lofty and spacious colonnades, which surrounded them ; consisting, sometimes of single, and sometimes of double rows of pillars ; which, by the richness and variety of their effects, contributed, in the highest degree, to embellish and adorn the cities ; and, by excluding the sun and rain, and admitting the air, afforded the most grateful walks to the inhabitants : where those, who could afford to be idle, passed the greatest part of their time in discussing the'eommon topics of business or pleasure, politics or philosophy. 41. These regular structures being the only monuments of ancient taste and magnificence in architecture, that remained, at the resurrec- tion of the arts, in a state sufficiently entire to be perfectly understood, the revivers of the Grecian style copied it servilely from them, and applied it indiscriminately to country, as well as town houses : but, as they felt its incongruity with the surrounding scenery of unimproved and unperverted nature, they en- deavoured to make that conform to it, as far as it was within their reach, or under their control. Hence probably arose the Italian style 13 PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 169 of gardening; though other causes, which will chap. be hereafter noticed, may have co-operated. n - 4'2. Since the introduction of another style tion. of ornamental gardening, called at first oriental, and afterwards landscape gardening (probably from its efficacy in destroying all picturesque composition) Grecian temples have been em- ployed as decorations by almost all persons, who could afford to indulge their taste in objects so costly : but, though executed, in many in- stances, on a scale and in a manner suitable to the design, disappointment has, I believe, been invariably the result. Nevertheless they are unquestionably beautiful, being exactly copied from those models, which have stood the criti- cism of many successive ages, and been con- stantly beheld with delight and admiration. In the rich lawns and shrubberies of England, however, they lose all that power to please which they so eminently possess on the barren hills of Agrigentum and Segesta, or the naked plains of Passtum and Athens. But barren and naked as these hills and plains are, they are still, if I may say so, their native hills and plains — the scenery, in which they sprang; and in which the mind, therefore, contemplates them connected and associated with numberless interesting circumstances, both local and histo- rical — both physical and moral, upon which it delights to dwell. In our parks and gardens, KlS PKIXCIPLES OF TASTE! were meant to be ornamental, were intended to adorn streets and squares, rather than parks or gardens. The Greek temples were, almost always, of an oblong square ; and, as the cells were, in general, small and simple, their magni- ficence was displayed in the lofty and spacious colonnades, which surrounded them; consisting, sometimes of single, and sometimes of double rows of pillars ; which, by the richness and variety of their effects, contributed, in the highest degree, to embellish and adorn the cities ; and, by excluding the sun and rain, and admitting the air, afforded the most grateful walks to the inhabitants : where those, who could afford to be idle, passed the greatest part of their time in discussing the 'common topics of business or pleasure, politics or philosophy. 41. These regular structures being the only monuments of ancient taste and magnificence in architecture, that remained, at the resurrec- tion of the arts, in a state sufficiently entire to be perfectly understood, the revivers of the Grecian style copied it servilely from them, and applied it indiscriminately to country, as well as town houses : but, as they felt its incongruity with the surrounding scenery of unimproved and unperverted nature, they en- deavoured to make that conform to it, as far as it was within their reach, or under their control. Hence probably arose the Italian style 13 PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 169 of gardening; though other causes, which will chap. be hereafter noticed, may have co-operated. Itm , , ~ , , Of Imasina- 4'2. Since the introduction ot another style t i on ° of ornamental gardening, called at first oriental, and afterwards landscape gardening (probably from its efficacy in destroying all picturesque composition) Grecian temples have been em- ployed as decorations by almost all persons, who could afford to indulge their taste in objects so costly : but, though executed, in many in- stances, on a scale and in a manner suitable to the design, disappointment has, I believe, been invariably the result. Nevertheless they are unquestionably beautiful, being exactly copied from those models, which have stood the criti- cism of many successive ages, and been con- stantly beheld with delight and admiration. In the rich lawns and shrubberies of England, however, they lose all that power to please which they so eminently possess on the barren hills of Agrigentum and Segesta, or the naked plains of Psestum and Athens. But barren and naked as these hills and plains are, they are still, if I may say so, their native hills and plains — the scenery, in which they sprang ; and in which the mind, therefore, contemplates them connected and associated with numberless interesting circumstances, both local and histo- rical — both physical and moral, upon which it delights to dwell. In our parks and gardens, ITO PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! on the contrary, they stand wholly unconnected with all that surrounds them — mere unmeaning excrescences ; or, what is worse, manifestly meant for ornament, and therefore having no accessory character, but that of ostentatious vanity: so that, instead of exciting any interest, they vitiate and destroy that, which the natura- lized objects of the country connected with them would otherwise excite. Even if the landscape scenery should be rendered really beautiful by such ornaments, its beauty will be that of a vain and affected coquette ; which, though it may allure the sense, offends the understanding ; and, on the whole, excites more disgust than pleasure. In all matters of this kind, the ima- gination must be conciliated before the eye can be delighted. 43. Many of the less important productions of ancient ait; such as coins, &c. owe much of the interest, which they excite ; and, conse- quently, much of the value, which they have acquired, to the same principle of association. Considered individually, as detached specimens of art, their value may seem inadequate to the prices sometimes paid for them : but, never- theless, when viewed in a series, and considered as exhibiting genuine though minute examples of the rise, progress, perfection, and decay of imitative art, employed upon the noblest sub- jects, the images of gods, heroes, and princes, PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 171 among those nations, from which all excellence in art and literature is derived, they stand con- nected with subjects so interesting and import- ant, that they become truly interesting and important themselves ; as far at least as any objects of mere elegant taste and speculative study can be interesting and important. It is true, that, in this, as in all other pursuits of the kind, the province of taste and science has been sometimes usurped by vanity and affectation displayed in the silly desire of possessing, at any price, that which has no other merit than being rare : but, nevertheless, I believe that instances of it are much less common, than they are generally supposed to be: — at least very few have come to my knowledge, during a very long and extensive acquaintance with such pur- suits and their votaries, through most parts of Europe. As for the hacknied tales of Othos, &c. so often employed to ridicule collectors, they are, I believe, entirely fictitious ; every collec- tor, who has any knowledge of the subject, being well aware that no such coin as the Latin one of Otho, supposed to be the ultimate object of his hopes and desires, ever did exist; and as for those struck in the eastern provinces of the empire, they are neither rare nor valuable in any high degree. Rareness certainly adds to the value of that, which is in itself valuable and interesting, either as an object of taste or 172 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. science; but the mere frivolous distinction of „ „ n * . possessing that, which others have not, is such Of Iinagma- ° ' Uon . as no man ot common sense can reasonably be supposed ambitious of. 44. Nearly connected with propriety or con- gruity, is symmetry, or the fitness and propor- tion of parts to each other, and to the whole : • — a necessary ingredient to beauty in all com- posite forms ; and one, which alone entitles them, in many instances, to be called beautiful. It depends entirely upon the association of ideas, and not at all upon either abstract reason or organic sensation ; otherwise, like harmony in sound or colour, it would result eo^ally from the same comparative relations in all objects ; which is so far from being tne case, that the same relative dimensions, which make one ani- mal beautiful, make another absolutely ugly. That, which is the most exquisite symmetry in a horse, would be the most gross deformity in an elephant, and vice versa: but the same pro- portionate combinations of sound, which pro- duce harmony in a iiddle, produce it also in a flute or a harp. 45. In many productions of art, symmetry is still more apparently the result of arbitrary convention ; that is, it proceeds from an asso- ciation of ideas, which have not been so inva- riably associated ; and which are, therefore, less intimately and firmly connected. In a Grecian PART IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 173 building, in which the relative proportions of chap. the different orders of columns were not ob- , *?■ m served, a person skilled in architecture would tioo. instantly discover a want of symmetry ; which, to another of even more correct taste, as far as correct taste depends on just feeling, may be utterly imperceptible : for there is no reason whatever in the nature of things, or in the analogy of the parts, why a Corinthian capital should be placed on a slenderer shaft than a Doric or Ionic one. On the contrary, the Corinthian, being of the largest, and conse- quently of the heaviest proportion, would natu- rally require the column of the largest dimen- sions, proportioned to its height, to sustain it. 46. The appropriation of particular propor- tions to the columns of particular orders is, I believe, of no higher antiquity than the practice of placing one order over another; of which, I know of no instance anterior to the theatres and amphitheatres of the Romans ; the first of which, excepting temporary structures of wood, was that of Pompey *. In the arrangement of * I am aware that Pausanius describes a temple at Tegea, said to have been designed by Serpas, in which a range of Corinthian was placed over one of Ionic co- lumns : but as this temple was built on the site of one burnt in the second year of the xcvi th Olympiad, we may fairly conclude, considering the usual slow progress of these expensive structures in inferior cities, and the 174 principles, of (taste: the different orders in buildings of this kind, the plainest was naturally placed lowest, and the most enriched, highest ; and hence the plain- est was made the most massive ; and the most ornamented, the most light and slender : but as this distinction of proportions arose merely from the relative positions, which they held, when thus employed together, and not from any inherent principle of propriety ; there can be no other reason, than that of established cus- tom, why it should be observed, when they are employed separately, and independent of each other. 47. In the Grecian buildings, which are anterior to any customary rules of this kind, the proportionate thickness of the columns, in each of the three orders, which are properly Grecian, appears to have been diminished gra- dually as the art advanced towards refinement: and, as the Doric was the earliest, and the Corinthian the latest invented, the proportions of the first are, of course, the most massive, and those of the last the most slender. It was only by repeated experiment, and long observ- state into which those parts of the Peloponnesus soon after fell, that the upper range was added under the Ro- man emperors. See Pausan. Arcadie, xli. In all the temples, known to be of remote antiquity, both in Europe and Asia, the two ranges of columns are of the same crder. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 1 75 ation, that men learned the power of a vertical chap. shaft to bear a perpendicular weight; and ^ r IIm . ■ i-i? ci i i • 0f Imagina- therefore, in the infancy of the art, made their t ; on> columns unnecessarily large and ponderous ; which is observable, not only in the primitive efforts of the Greeks and Egyptians, but also in the imitations made, at the revival of the art, by the Saxons, Goths, Franks, Lombards, &c. In all, the progress has been from exces- sive ponderous solidity to excessive lightness ; though as the Greeks and Romans bound them- selves by certain rules of proportion, before they had run into the latter extreme, they never indulged themselves in the extravagant licence of the Gothic architects, who recognized no rules, but worked merely for effect. 48. Under the Macedonian kings and first Roman emperors, the. refinements of accurate proportion appear to. have been carried to a frivolous excess * : for though they may have contributed to preserve that elegance and purity of taste, which distinguishes all the works of those periods, yet they certainly tend to restrain genius, and prevent grandeur of effect, which can only be produced by contrast, which is the direct opposite of proportion. Contrast appears to have been the leading principle of the Gothic architects, and as its operation upon the mind, * Vitruv. lib. iii. ( 176 PRINCIPLES OF taste: chap. as well as that of proportion, is by the associ- «- T "" . ation of ideas, it is impossible to limit it to any Of I magma- . .... . timi. precise rules or restrictions; since the acqui- sition of new ideas may at any time produce new associations, or change those previously existing. The Gothic architects varied the proportions of their columns from four, to one hundred and twenty diametres, and contrasted the ornaments and the parts with equal licence ; and though a column so slender, employed to support a vaulted roof of stone, may offend the eye of a person, who suspects it to be inade- quate to its purpose, and therefore associates ideas of weakness and danger with it ; yet, to those who know it to be sufficient, it will appear extremely light and beautiful ; as is proved by . the columns in the cathedral of Salisbury, which are of this proportion, and which have been universally admired for many centuries. The contrivers of this refined and fantastic Gothic seem to have aimed at producing gran- deur and solemnity, together with lightness of effect; and incompatible as these qualities may seem, by attending to effect only, and consider- ing the means of producing it as wholly subor- dinate, and in their own power, they succeeded to a degree, which the Grecian architects, who worked by rule, never approached. 49. The eye always measures the whole of an edifice by a scale taken from the parts ; and, PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 177 particularly, those parts, with which it is most familiar ; and for which the common observa- tion of nature has supplied the memory with models ; such as statues, foliage, and other imitations of natural productions. 50. In the cathedral of St. Peter at Rome, all these are of a gigantic size, taken from a given scale, proportionate to that of the build- ins; ; and I have often heard this rigid adherence to uniform proportion admired as a very high excellence ; though all allow that the effect of it has been to make the building appear much smaller, than it really is ; and if it be a merit to make it appear small, it certainly was extreme folly to incur such immense expence in building it large. 51. Our Gothic architects worked upon prin- ciples diametrically opposite, and made all these subordinate parts, and incidental decorations* of as small a proportion as was compatible with their being distinctly seen ; and, in this, they appear to me to have judged wisely; for the ornaments appear more light and elegant, by being small : and the very profusion, with which they were scattered, in order to diffuse them over a large space, still extended the scale, which they afforded to the eye, for the admea- surement of the whole. 52. This grandeur of effect was rendered more solemn, and consequently more grand, by N 178 PRINCIPLES of taste: large masses of dim and discoloured light, dif- fused, in various directions, and at different intervals, through unequal varieties of space, divided but not separated, so as to produce intricacy without confusion : the room was evidently one, and the general form and dimen- sions of it were easily discernible through the successive ranges of arches, piers, and columns, with which the view was interrupted ; but there was no point, from which the eye could see the whole of it at one glance ; so that, though much was seen, something still remained to be seen, which the imagination measured from the scale of the rest — Thus effects more imposing have been produced, than are, perhaps, to be found in any other works of man. 53. That visible effect, which we call light- ness, proceeds, like all other beauties of this kind, from the association of ideas : for the specific gravity of bodies is not measured by the eye; and we ail know, from experience, that neither statues of brass or marble, nor build- ings of brick or stone, are, in reality, light: but, nevertheless, there are certain relative proportions, and combinations of forms, to which, the same habitual experience has taught us to associate ideas of motion and elasticity, which are naturally connected with lightness; ana the same spontaneous and mechanical ope- ration of the mind makes us apply these to PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 179 bodies, which we know, at the same time, to be neither elastic nor capable of motion. Sculp- ture, indeed, generally imitates bodies in motion or capable of motion and action ; wherefore an appearance of lightness and elasticity in its forms is among the most appropriate and indis- pensable of its excellences : but buildings are meant to appear, as well as to be stationary ; and their proper characteristic is massive strength and solid stability. Attempts at light- ness, unless supported by extreme richness, either of material or ornament, either of colour or form, almost always produce meagreness, poverty, and weakness of effect; such as is but too manifest in most of the works of Grecian or Roman architecture lately executed in this country; where spindle columns, bald capitals, wide intercolumniations, and scanty entabla- tures form a sort of frippery trimming fit only to adorn a house built after the model of a brick clamp : which is, indeed, the usual appli- cation of them. In the magnificent structures of the Roman emperors, the entablatures con- tinued full, and the intercolumniations mode- rate, after the proportions of the columns had become slender ; at the same time that the cost- liness and brilliancy of the materials, and the variety and elegance of the sculptures were alone sufficient to suppress any ideas of poverty or meanness, which a want of substance might N 2 180 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. otherwise have excited. In the Gothic churches, „ r T 1U . too, a profusion of elaborate ornament, how Of Imagina- .. . . tion. licentiously soever designed or disposed, seldom failed to produce a similar effect : but the mo- dern fashion of making buildings neither rich nor massive, and producing lightness of appear- ance by the deficiency rather than the disposi- tion of the parts, is of all tricks of taste the most absurd, and the most certain of counter- acting its own ends. The ponderous extrava- gancies of Vanbrugh, how blamable soever in the detail, are never contemptible in the whole ; and amidst all the unmeaning absurdities, which the learned observer may discover in the parts of Blenheim and Castle Howard, the general mass in each has been universally felt and ac- knowledged to be grand and imposing : but in later works of the same kind, which it might perhaps be invidious to name, equal expence has been incurred to produce objects similar to what we may reasonably suppose a cabinet- maker of Brobdignag would have made for Gullivers nurse. Even where the genuine Grecian order, that is, the old Doric, has been employed, it has been by a mere servile and mechanic imitation of its existing remains, without any attention to the principles which directed their authors ; whence many absurd and perverse fashions have arisen. It was the constant practice of the PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 181 ancient Greeks to leave the exterior surface of the stones rough, both in the walls and columns, till after the building was erected ; and only to hew theui round the edges in the one, and to finish them at intervals in the other, that the workmen might have points of reference for accurately completing them afterwards : but as wars, revolutions, or other public calamities often intervened, many important edifices re- mained in this imperfect and unfinished state; the accidental defects of which have been stu- diously and elaborately copied, and called rustic work, of which I know of no example in any finished building of antiquity, except in under- ground substructions, where finishing was dis- pensed with. Every Greek temple was raised upon a basement which served as a general pedestal for all the columns, and obviated the necessity of obstructing the intercolumniations with separate plinths or bases to each: but when columns are erected upon an even plain, without any support under them, they seem as if they had sunk into it; and thus give a build- ing an appearance of heaviness without stability, and of weakness without lightness. 54. The fundamental error of imitators in all arts is, that they servilely copy the effects, which they see produced, instead of studying and adopting the principles, which guided the original artists in producing them; wherefore N 3 182 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. they disregard all those local, temporary, or ll ' . accidental circumstances, upon which their Of Imagina- . . ... tion. propriety or impropriety — their congruity or incongruity wholly depend : for principles in art are no other than the trains of ideas, which arise in the mind of the artist out of a just and adequate consideration of all such circum- stances; and direct him in adapting his work to the purposes for which it is intended : con- sequently, if either those circumstances or pur- poses change, his ideas must change with them, or his principles will be false, and his works incongruous. Grecian temples, Gothic abbeys, and feudal castles were all well adapted to their respective uses, circumstances, and situations : the distribution of the parts subservient to the purposes of the whole ; and the ornaments and decorations suited to the character of the parts ; and to the manners, habits, and employments of the persons who were to occupy them : but the house of an English nobleman of the eighteenth or nineteenth century is neither a Grecian temple, a Gothic abbey, nor a feudal castle ; and if the style of distribution or deco- ration of either be employed in it, such changes and modifications should be admitted as may adapt it to existing circumstances ; otherwise the scale of its exactitude becomes that of its incongruity, and the deviation from principle proportioned to the fidelity of imitation. Com- PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 163 mon practitioners think every objection an- chap. swered, when some respectable authority is n ' . adduced; though perhaps the only point proved t ; on by such authority is that the person, who uses it, does not understand it, or know how to apply it. 55. In painting an appearance of lightness depends, not only on the forms, and propor- tions of the objects delineated, but on the mode of imitation, which the artist employs ; a slow pencil, and heavy manner of execution, will make almost any object appear heavy in the picture; and, on the contrary, a brilliant, free, and sketchy one will always make the same appear light ; although the imitation be equally exact in both. This difference is, however, more easily discernible in drawings than in paintings; and in slight, than in finished per formances ; for the more is left to the imagina- tion, the more free and spontaneous will tlfe association of ideas, between the style of the imitation, and that of the thing imitated, be ; and the more readily will the mind transfer the properties, which it observes" in the former, to the notions, which it has formed of the latter. Objects, that are not circumscribed by straight, or very determinate outlines, but of which the forms are loose and flowing, are peculiarly well adapted to this free and sketchy style of imitation; and are, therefore, properly N 4 II. Of Imagina tion. 1S4 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. to be considered as picturesque. Rubens, who of all the painters, was most eminent for this facility or bravura of execution, has shown himself most attached to these kinds of forms; the columns of his buildings being generally twisted and fluted ; and the limbs of his figures always bent, and the muscles charged and pro- minent: upon the same principle was, probably, his fondness for painting fat and flabby women; whose shapeless bodies were entirely freed from those regular and determined outlines which he seemed to consider as insurmountable enemies of his art. It is curious to observe how lie has twisted and distorted them in his attempts to improve the drawings of the old Roman and Flo- rentine masters; whose meagre upright figures have their muscles swoln, and their limbs bent into all those flowing and undulating lines, which have been called the lines of grace and beauty; how truly, the compositions of Rubens, in which they always predominate, and those of Raphael, in which they are never employed, but incidentally, may decide*. They may, * See Idler, No. 76; where Sir Joshua Reynolds has introduced, with much humour, a systematic connoisseur just returned from Italy with his head full of harmonic proportions, flowing lines of grace and beauty, pyramidal principles of grouping, &c.&c. ; by which he criticises the cartoons of Raphael, and laments that no traces of them, are to be found in those celebrated works of so extraor- dinary a genius ; thus, as the author observes, pretending PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 185 however, be justly called picturesque, in the most limited and proper sense of the word, as being peculiarly appropriate to painting. 56. Corregio has employed similar outlines, as uniformly, but with more of the modesty and moderation of nature than Rubens ; his women being always desirable, and the expression of their countenances, and character of their atti- tudes, elegant and pleasing : whence they have been thought handsome ; though their general forms have as little of that beauty, which arises from correct and just symmetry, as those of any of the Flemish painters ; and this beauty, per- haps, is the only one in the human figure, whe- ther male or female, which can strictly and phi- losophically be considered as a beauty : for all the others depend, in a great measure, upon sexual or social sympathies ; and therefore be- long as much to the peculiar properties of the minds, which feel, as to those of the persons, which display them. 57. I am aware, indeed, that it would be no easy task to persuade a lover that the forms, upon which he dotes with such rapture, are not really beautiful, independent of the medium of anection, passion, and appetite, through which great admiration for a name of fixed reputation, and, at the same time, raising objections against those very quali- ties, by which that great name was acquired. 1 86 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. he views them. But before he pronounces "• either the infidel or the sceptic guilty of blas- Of Imacina- , . , , . , , , tioiu phemy against nature, let him take a mould from the lovely features or lovely bosom of this master-piece of creation, and cast a plum-pud- ding in it (an object by no means disgusting to most men's appetites) and, I think, he will no longer be in raptures with the form, whatever he may be with the substance. Display, too, the most beautiful of the sex, in all the freshness of youth and bloom of health, to any animal of another kind, and she will be viewed with per- fect indifference ; though many of them show the nicest and most discriminating sensibility to different colours ; green being, as before observed, grateful to all, and scarlet evidently offensive and painful to some. Even in the females of their own species, they seem to be quite insensible to the charms of this freshness of youth and bloom of health, which we value so much in ours : for it has been observed that a ram always gives the preference to the oldest of his flock ; his appetites being excited by that, which is one of the most effectual extinguishers of ours. 58. Men, it is true, often fall violently in love at first sight ; and when the momentary impres- sion, made by the object on the organ of vision, is all that they can know of her : but, neverthe- less, this organic impression is, as before ob- PAST II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 187 served, no further the cause of love, than as it cm*. serves to communicate the object to the mind ; "• the mere sensual pleasure of sight having little t ^ or nothing to do with it. 59. That love, which arises from an union of rational esteem, sympathetic sentiment, and animal desire, is, I believe, peculiar to civilized man ; brutes seeking for nothing more in their females than the gratification of their periodical appetites ; and savage men considering them merely as slaves, whose only valuable qualifica- tions are those, which befit them for useful labour or sensual pleasure. • The sexual affec- tions, indeed, of some kinds of birds seem to be productive of something like mental attachment; especially in their co-operation in fostering their eggs and nourishing their young : but, never- theless, its principle appears to be merely a natural and instinctive propensity ; whereas that of rational and sentimental love is entirely artificial and acquired, otherwise such love would not be limited to men in an artificial state of society. 60. When, however, the propensity is ac- quired, it may exist, like all other propensities, without any determinate object : for when, at the age of puberty, animal desire obtrudes itself on a mind already qualified to feel and enjoy the charms of intellectual merit, the imagination immediately begins to form pictures of perfec- 188 PRINCIPLES OF TASTK: tion by exaggerating and combining in one hypothetic object every excellence, that can possibly belong to the whole sex ; and the first individual, that meets the eye, with any exterior signs of any of these ideal excellences, is immediately decorated with them all by the creative magic of a vigorous and fertile fancy. Hence she instantaneously becomes the object of the most fervent affection, which is as in- stantaneously cooled by possession : for, as it was not the object herself, but a false idea of her raised in a heated imagination, that called forth ail the lover's raptures, all immediately vanish at the detection of his delusion ; and a degree of disgust proportioned to the disappointment, of which it is the inevitable consequence, in- stantly succeeds. — Thus it happens that what are called love matches are seldom or never happy. 61. Mere animal desire is a natural or phy- sical affection of the mind, excited by corporeal stimuli, and therefore existing, in a greater or less degree, in every individual of the human species, whose organization is complete : but the sentiment of love, being a social passion acquired by social and artificial habits, is never felt at all by persons of very cold and phlegm- atic tempers ; nor by those, whose attention is steadily fixed, or their minds deeply absorbed, either in the active pursuits of worldly business. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 1S9 or the silent meditations of abstract study. chap. Neither is it ever felt in any violent degree, - "" . . / . ° Of Imagina- unless by persons, whose imaginations are natu- t i on rally warm and vivid ; and who have, at the same time, leisure to indulge, and society to exercise them. Such persons, when they have no other pursuits, are always in love, from the age of puberty to that of decrepitude ; so that their whole lives may be said to be passed in a perpetual renovation of hope, and a constant succession of disappointment : for whether the object prove attainable or not, disappointment equally ensues, though in different ways. No real charms either of mind or body ever reach the visionary perfections, which a lively and glowing imagination stimulated by keen sensi- bility bestows on an admired object : and though we may read, in poems and romances, of chaste or unsuccessful love continuing during long periods of years, and only ending with the lives of the parties, it may reasonably be pre- sumed that such love, if it ever existed at all, partook more of the nature of a sophism, than a sentiment ; and was rather a metaphysical delusion of the understanding, than an energetic affection of the soul. 62. Such appears to have been the love of Petrarch, Cowley, Waller, and other such lovers in verse ; whose quaint illustrations, analytical definitions, and metaphysical explanations of 190 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE. their passion abundantly prove that they never really felt it ; but only chose it as a fashionable subject, on which to display their talents and obtain distinction. 63. There is another and very different de- scription of erotic poets, who, combining the refinements of sentimental love, which they have acquired amidst the elegancies of the most polished society ; with the manners of primaeval simplicity, and the imagery of pastoral life, have called into being a race of mortals utterly un- known to nature ; such as love-sick sentimental savages, shepherds, and ploughmen. Of this description are the cyclops and swains of the elegant Theocritus ; who, bred in the polished city of Syracuse, and writing in the still more polished court of the second Ptolemy, gave a new character to his own delicate sentiments of love, by expressing them in the archaic simpli- city of dialect, or with the native rusticity of imagery of Sicilian peasants ; and the novelty of that character, the simplicity of that dialect, and the beauty and gaiety of that imagery na- turally rendered the sentiments expressed more pleasing and impressive : but, if any of the courtiers of Alexandria had gone among the mountains of Sicily in quest of a Thyrsis or Amaryllis, they would have felt the same dis- appointment, as a London cockney would feel, were he to seek, in the mountains of Scotland s FART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 191 or Wales, for such shepherds and shepherd- chap. esses, as he sees in an opera. "* 64. It has of late been very much the fashion tk>n Slna " of the English as well as the French and Ger- man theatres, to bring examples of the most pure heroic love, and disinterested sentimental gallantry from the lowest ranks of society — from common soldiers, mendicants, robbers, and slaves ; and not only the courtiers and cockneys of London and Paris, but scholars and philosophers of the first eminence gave themselves up to the delusion ; which seems to be not entirely cured even by the events of the French revolution ; though that has afforded such abundant instances of the delicate senti- ments and tender affections of men, whose minds are neither exalted by situation, enlarged by science, nor refined by culture. Narrow sordid selfishness is, with few exceptions, the universal principle of action in such men ; and not less so in the pursuits of love than in those of interest or ambition. Personal beauty, as an incentive to appetite, and a capacity for labour and household management, are the qualifications generally sought for : but as to any of that refinement of mental affection or sympathy of soul, which makes beauty an object of more pure and exalted love in the higher orders of society, it is, as far as I have been able to observe, wholly unknown. 1J)'2 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: 65. But to return to the proper subjects of the present inquiry ; the art of sculpture is a much fairer and more impartial representer of beauty of form, than that of painting : for, as it exhibits form only, it can employ no tricks of light and shade to give preternatural distinctness to one part, or preternatural obscurity to ano- ther ; and, as its imitations are complete, as far as they extend, it can leave nothing to the imagination, nor employ any of that loose and sketchy brilliancy of execution, by which paint- ing gives an artificial appearance of lightness to forms, which, in nature, always appear heavy. 66. The forms, therefore, both of the human figure and countenance, which are peculiarly appropriate to sculpture, are directly the reverse of the picturesque forms above mentioned ; this art requiring exact symmetry in limb and body, muscles and joints strongly indicated, regular and distinct features, full lips, prominent brows, and curly elastic hair, more accurately divided into masses, than it ever is by the unassisted hand of nature. Even the most regular ar- rans^ement of it into locks and riniilets has been employed, by the great sculptors of antiquity, with the happiest effect, which it never could be in painting. 67. This character, though very different from any that is commonly esteemed beautiful, has, nevertheless, peculiar beauties for eyes PART It. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 133 conversant with the fine productions of ancient sculpture: whence we may reasonably inter, that, had this art been as generally and fami- liarly understood, and as universally practised, as that of painting, we should probably have heard of a sculpturesque, as well as a pic- turesque*', since the one exists in nature just as much as the other ; and my friend Mr. Price might have found another distinct cha- racter to occupy another place in his scale of taste, with those of the sublime, the picturesque and the beautiful. But the imitations of sculp- ture being less mannered, and more confined than those of painting; its process more slow and laborious ; and its materials either costly, ponderous, or cumbersome ; the taste for it has never been sufficiently diffused among the mass of mankind to give rise to a familiar metaphor. 08. One particular style of painting has, however, produced such a metaphor, and given * We may write either picturesque and sculpturesque, from pictura and sculptura ; or pictoresque and scutptoresque, from pictor and sculptor; the first signifying after the man- ner of the arts, and the latter after the manner of the artists. The latter is most strictly etymological ; but as the word pictor has not been adopted into the English language, and the words pictura and sculptura, in an anglicised form, have, the former appears to be the most proper ; and, in words not yet naturalized, propriety may be preferred to etymology. o 194 PRINCIPLES or taste: chap. its name to such descriptions of objects and Of I a ina- suc ^ mo des °f composition, as appear to have tion. some similitude to those, from which it sprang. Thus we often hear of grottesque figures, grot- tesque countenances, and grottesque groupes ; which, according to* the system of my friend above mentioned, should be such as bear some- what of the same relation to the picturesque, as he supposes the picturesque to bear to the beautiful : for the grottesque is certainly, a degree or two at least, further removed from the insipid smoothness and regularity of beauty, than he supposes the picturesque to be. In tracing, however, the word to its source, we find that grottesque means after the manner of grottos, as picturesque means after the manner of painting. The one is just as much «, separate character as the other. 69. Indeed, if my friend will attentively look around him, his sagacity will readily dis- cover many other distinct characters of the same kind, which he may employ, in any future editions of his work, to season the in- sipidity of beauty to any extent that pleases him; and thus give it such various modes and degrees of relish, as must suit every appetite. A few of these, I shall here point out, as con- cisely as possible ; leaving the task of describr ;^ng them more accurately, or applying them more systematically, to him, or any other per- son more competent than myself. II. Of Imagina- tion. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 1Q5 70. Ruined buildings, with fragments of chap. sculptured walls and broken columns, the mouldering remnants of obsolete taste and fallen magnificence, afford pleasure to every learned beholder, imperceptible to the igno- rant, and wholly independent of their real beauty, or the pleasing impressions, which they make on the organs of sight ; more especially when discovered in countries of ancient cele- brity, renowned in history for learning, arts, or empire. The mind is led by the view of them into the most pleasing trains of ideas ; and the whole scenery around receives an ac- cessory character ; which is commonly called classical ; as the ideas, which it excites, asso- ciate themselves with those, which the mind has previously received from the writings called classic. 71. There is another species of scenery, in which every object is wild, abrupt, and fan- tastic ; — in which endless intricacies discover, at every turn, something new and unexpected ; so that we are at once amused and surprised, and curiosity is constantly gratified, but never satiated. This sort of scenery we call romantic ; not only because it is similar to that usually described in romances, but because it affords the same kind of pleasure, as we feel from the incidents usually related in such of them O 2 196 principles or taste: chap. as are composed with sufficient skill to afford ~- T 1U . any pleasure at all. Of Imagina- T , , ,. , , • , tion. 7*- In other scenes, we are delighted with neat and comfortable cottages, inhabited by a plain and simple, but not rude or vulgar peasantry ; placed amidst cultivated, but not ornamented gardens, meads, and pastures, abounding in flocks and herds, refreshed by bubbling springs, and cooled by overhanging shade. Such scenery we call pastoral ; and, though the impressions, which it makes upon the sense, be pleasing ; yet this pleasure is greatly enhanced, to a mind conversant with pastoral poetry, by the association of the ideas excited with those previously formed. 73. In the same manner, marts thronged with the bustle of commerce, seaports crowded with shipping, plains enriched by culture and population, all afford pleasures to the learned and contemplative mind, wholly independent of the impressions, which the scenery makes upon the eye ; though that, from its richness and variety, may be in the highest degree pleasing. 74. All these extra pleasures are from the minds of the spectators ; whose pre-existing trains of ideas are revived, refreshed, and re- associated by new, but correspondent impres- sions on the organs of sense ; and the great fundamental error, which prevails throughout PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 1Q? the otherwise able and elegant Essays on the chap. Picturesque, is seeking for distinctions in ex- 0f ]„*" ina _ ternal objects, which only exist in the modes tion. and habits of viewing and considering thein. The author had viewed nature, and examined art with the eye of a painter, the feelings of a poet, and the discernment of a critic: but not having been accustomed to investigate and discriminate the operations of mind, he unfor- tunately suffered himself to be misled by the brilliant, but absurd and superficial theories of the Iiiquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful. Show either picturesque, classical, romantic or pastoral scenery to a person, whose mind, how well soever organized, is wholly unprovided with correspondent ideas, and it will no other- wise affect him than as beautiful tints, forms, or varieties of light and shadow would, if seen in objects, which had nothing of either of these characters. Novelty will, indeed, make moun- tainous scenery peculiarly pleasing to the in- habitant of a plain ; and richly cultivated scenery, to the inhabitant of a forest; and vice versa; but this is upon another principle which will be hereafter explained. All this, indeed, is admitted ; and it is fujv ther stated that ugliness itself may be pictu- resque ; and through the power of painting, be gazed on with delight by those, who have been accustomed to be charmed with it in the O 3 193 PRINCIPLES of taste: imitative productions of that art*: an ob- servation, which could not but have led its author to the true cause and source of that delight, had not the natural clearness of his discernment been pre-occupied by a system : for where objects in themselves ugly, that is, displeasing to sight, become pleasing objects of sight, to persons skilled in a particular art, and to no others, by means of ideas derived from that art, it surely did not require his sagacity to perceive that the pleasure must proceed from those ideas, and not from the ne- cessary and inherent qualities of the objects f. 75. Man, both from his natural and social habits, is so accustomed to respect order and regularity, that it may properly be considered, * Vol. I. p. 28, 23 ! , 241, -10 4. Vol. I. pref. xiii. Vol. I. p. 221. t A set of northern critics defend this distinction of pictitresqucriess by an auxiliary, which the)' create for the purpose, and call by a name still less intelligible and more uncouth, unexpectedness. Edinburgh Review, N° XIV. It would be amusing to hear them define, after the ex- ample which they illustrate, the particular modifications of colour, shape, and size, under which this distinct cha- racter appears to those, who do expect the objects, to which it is attributed : since if it really belong to the objects, and not to the minds of the observers, it must be equally perceptible to those who do, as to those who do not expect them; unless indeed prescience destroy perception, instead of rendering it more acute. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. J99 both physically and morally, as a principle of chap. his existence. All our limbs and organs serve "' . us in pairs, and by mutual co-operation with tiou. each other : whence the habitual association of ideas has taught us to consider this uni- formity as indispensable to the beauty and perfection of the animal form. There is no reason to be deduced from any abstract con- sideration of the nature of things why an animal should be more ugly and disgusting for having only one eye, or one ear, than for having only one nose or one mouth : yet if we were to meet with a beast with one eye, or two noses or mouths, in any part of the world, we should, without inquiry, decide it to be a monster, and turn from it with abhorrence : neither is there any reason, in the nature of things, why a strict parity, or relative equality, in the correspondent limbs and features of a man or a horse, should be absolutely essential to beauty, and absolutely destructive of it in the roots and branches of a tree. But, ne- vertheless, the Creator having formed the one regular, and the other irregular, we habitually associate ideas of regularity to the perfection of the one, and ideas of irregularity to the perfection of the other; and this habit has been so unvaried, as to have become natural. 76. Hence, though irregularity of appearance is generally essential to picturesque beauty, no 04 200 PRINCIPLES or taste: painter has ever thought of making a man or animal more picturesque, by exhibiting them with one leg shorter than the other, or one eye smaller than the other; and, though men have cut off the ears and tails of their horses, and cropped their manes, to make them more beau-r tiful, no one has ever thought of cutting off only one ear, shearing the tail on one side, or cropping the mane in one part and not in another, in order to produce this effect. Ne- vertheless men do commit similar violations of nature in the vegetable creation, and with the happiest effect: for we often see trees of the fir kind cropped and mutilated in order to make them grow irregularly, and the beauty, "which they thus acquire, is universally felt and acknowledged. 77. But it must be remembered that irre- gularity is the general characteristic of trees, and regularity that of animals ; so that the mutilations, in one instance, tend to render a single species more, and in the other less, con- formable to its kind ; and consequently, in the one, to connect and extend, and in the other to interrupt and destroy the association of ideas. It must be remembered, also, that our mental sympathies extend, in some degree, to. every thing, which seems to participate of mind ; or in any degree to possess the faculties of feeling and thinking: whence the mutilation PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 201 of an animal, and that of a plant, excite very chat. different sentiments; and it is to be lamented, xx * . r , . . Of Imagma- for the honour of human nature, that these tion# sentiments are not still more different than they appear, from the general practice of mankind, to be. 7S. The regular conformation of animals, however, is rather perceived by the mind than the eye : for there is no object, composed of parts, either in nature or art, that can appear regular to the eye, unless seen at right angles; and this is the point of sight, which a painter of any taste always studiously avoids : conse- quently, in his compositions, the forms of men and animals, as well as those of trees, are irre- gular, in their appearance to the eye; at the same time, that he takes care to represent them, in such a manner, as to inform the mind, that their conformation is according to the laws of nature. Even when the point of sight is at right angles with the limbs of the figure, the form will not appear regular to the eye, unless each corresponding limb be exactly in the same posture ; and the position of the whole be perpendicularly erect, with the weight distributed, exactly in due proportions, on the parts intended to bear it : still, however, the painter has a resource ; for if he should be compelled, by the nature of his subject, to introduce, into his composition, a figure in CO'2 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap* this stiff and unpicturesque attitude, he can at "* all times vary it, in the human form, by irre- Of Imagina- , , , . , , , , tion. gular draperies ; and, in horses and cattle, by the casual and irregular movements of the ears, the inane, and the tail. Of the features, the eyes only, by the converging of their axes in vision, are always uniform and concordant with each other in every expression ; all devia- tion from it being, in a greater or less degree, that morbid disposition called squinting. The brows, the cheeks, and the lips assume irre- gular forms in expressing the passions, senti- ments, and affections of the mind; and this irregularity is varied, increased, or diminished by the distribution of the hair adjoining the face, ■which the artist may dispose as he chooses. 79. My friend, Mr. Price, indeed, admits squinting among the irregular and picturesque charms of the parson's daughter, whom (to illustrate the picturesque in opposition to the beautiful) he wishes to make appear lovely and attractive, though without symmetry or beauty *. lie has not, however, extended the * " The good old parson's daughter is made upon the model of her father's house: her features are as irregular, and her eyes are inclined to look across each other, like the roofs of the old parsonage; but a clear skin, clean white teeth, though not very even, and a look of neat- ness and cheerfulness, in spite of these irregularities, made me look at her with pleasure; and I really think, 10 PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 203 details of this want of symmetry and regu- chap. larky further than to the features of the face ; ^ r _ "* . J , r . -Of Imagina- though to make the figure consistent and com- t j ou# plete, the same happy mixture of the irregular and picturesque must have prevailed through her limbs and person ; and consequently she must have hobbled as well as squinted; and had hips and shoulders as irregular as her teeth, cheeks, and eyebrows. All my friend's parental fondness for his system is certainly necessary to make him think such an assem- blage of picturesque circumstances either lovely or attractive; or induce him to imagine, that he should be content with such a creature, as if I were of the cloth, I should like very well to take the living, the house, and its inhabitant." Dialog, p. 135. — * Here is a house and a woman without symmetry or beauty ; and yet many might prefer them both to such as had infinitely more of what they and the world would acknowledge to be regularly beautiful." lb. p. 13(5. It is presumed that, by symmetry, conformity is here meant: for symmetry is the mutual proportion of com- mensurate parts ; and in all animals nature has fixt certain relative proportions for each kind and species, according to the perfection or imperfection of which, each individual of that kind or species is more or less perfect : but an individual wholly without such propor- tion, that is, without symmetry, can onlv be a monster. A building, indeed, being a work of mere art and invention, can have no natural proportions; and may therefore, as before observed, be rendered pleasing, both to the eye and imagination, by contrast, without sym- metry in its correlative parts. £04 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. a companion for life; and I heartily congra- "• . tulate him that this fondness did not arise at Gf Imaeina- ,. . , , ... tloI ° an earlier period, to obstruct him in a very different choice. Indeed, he seems to have still some remains of his former prejudices lurking about him : for he soon after uses the epithets beautiful and lovely, as synonymous; and defines the one by the other, in spite of all his philosophy of the picturesque *. SO. This philosophy has, I confess, long puzzled me, in spite of the many discussions, which we have had to explain it. A single sentence, however, in his last publication, has given me a complete key to it. " All these ideas," says an interlocutor, who, on (his occa^ sion, sustains bis own part in his dialogue, ** are originally acquired by the touch ; but from use they are become as much objects of sight as colours f." When there is so little discrimination between the operations of mind and the objects of sense, that ideas become objects of sight, all the rest follows of course ; and the different classes of beauty may be divided into as many distinct characters, as there are distinct ideas; and be still progres- sively augmented with the augmentation of science, and extension of art. Beauty may * " The most beautiful, that is, the most lovely," Dialog, p. 14-9. t Dialog, p. 107. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. £05 also, in one pagje, be synonymous with love- chap. linesss; and yet, in another, loveliness may 0fIll ^* gina . exist without beauty or symmetry, by means uon. of certain qualities, which are analogous to beauty ; such as a clear skin, and clean white teeth * These, however, in every other part of the work, are considered as real and posi- tive beauties, not depending upon habit, as Sir Joshua Reynolds has supposed them to be ; and as the facts, before cited, prove them to bef. When a squinting woman, however, without symmetry or beauty, was to be invested with a sufficient portion of sexual charms to^ render her capable of exciting affection and desire, those charms suddenly become qualities analogous to beauty ; and, in this disguised and undefinable form, are slipped into a com- position, with which they would otherwise have been found incompatible. 81. I do not mean, however, to deny that a woman, with even greater personal defects than either hobbling or squinting, may, by the influence of sexual and social sympathies, be * Dialog, p. 107. Essays, voJ.i. p. 12o\ &c. In all these passages, my friend equally mistakes ideas for things ; and the effects of internal sympathies, for those of ex- ternal circumstances ; as he does through both his pre* ceding volumes; and thence grounds the best practical lessons of taste upon false principles, and false philo- sophy. t See Part I. c. in. f. 4. and c. v. f. 24, 206 principles of taste: extremely interesting and attractive. The lovely and amiable Duchess of La Valiere is said, not only to have had bad teeth, but also, in consequence of an accident in her childhood, to have limped or hobbled in her gait; which, nevertheless, seemed to add to, rather than take away from the graces of her person *. Probably, however, it seemed so only to those, who, like her royal lover, were predisposed, by the influence of those graces, to approve every thing that she did : for this passion of love, how blind soever it may be, can at all times discover charms and graces, where ordinary discernment can only see faults and defects f. Imitative art separates these faults and defects from the magic, which re- commends them in real life : for figures in stone or on canvass, excite too little either of social or sexual sympathy to engage the feel- ings of the man in support of the theories of the philosopher. The irregular movements of * " Elle boitoit un pcu, niais il scmbloit, qu'au lieu de nuire, te defaut ajoutoit a ses graces."— Fragm. de Lett. de Madame, &c. " Illuc pravertamur, amatorem quod amicae Turpia decipiunt ca;cum vitia, aut etiam ipsa haec Delectant." Hcp.at. Serin. Li. f.iii. v.38. ■ti yccp spun iroXAaxi;, u Y[o?\v(pa.pt i rot. ^fi y.ocXa. y.xha. mQix.vTct.i. Tiieocrit. Idyl. vi. 13. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 207 the monarch's lovely mistress, or the irregular chap. looks of the parson's blooming daughter, may "■ have been very charming to those, who were tioi £ predisposed by other charming qualities of tint, form, or expression, to be pleased with them ; and as these irregular charms belong neither to the sublime nor the beautiful, my friend, consistently with his system, seeks for them in his general intermediate repository of the pic- turesque ; though they are not at all after the manner of painting. Other philosophers have sought for them in the minds of the spectators, where, I believe, all the charm will ultimately be found. But, though all these distinctions be but mental or ideal modifications for different classes of visible objects, which cannot be classed by any characteristic distinctions in- herent in themselves, I am not aware that any thing, that I have ever written or said on the subject, can fairly be construed to imply that I ever considered the words beautiful and pic- turesque to be synonymous or convertible terms, as has been supposed. In the " Essays on the Picturesque," indeed, it is merely stated that there are persons, who, in reality, hold the two words to be synonymous ; though they do not say so in express terms; and others, who allow that the words have a different meaning, but that there is no distinct character of the £08 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE? chap. picturesque*. Of this latter sect I have always ^„ , "' . meant to profess myself: and even if I have Of Imagma- . , / ... . tion. expressed that meaning so ill, as to give just cause for being placed in the other, I cannot but think that the interlocutor in the dialogue, •who makes me, in express terms, say that there is no distinction between them : in other words, that they are, in respect to visible ob- jects, synonymous^, adopts rather an inquisi- torial mode of proceeding ; which howsoever sanctioned by authority in the trials of heretics, has not yet been acknowledged in the courts of philosophy, or by the judicature of common sense. S2. To express that perfect serenity of mind, which was attributed to -deities, and deified personages, the ancient artists exhibited the features perfectly regular ; and made one side of the face an exact counterpart of the other : but, where passion or affection is expressed, they are always varied, as in nature. In the infancy of art, the figure was always repre- sented with its weight equally poised upon both legs ; so that its position was regularly and rigidly erect. The ^Egyptians, with that superstitious reverence for established customs, which distinguished them in every thing, adhered to this mode down to the latest times; but the * Vol 1. p. 2?9. t P- 182 - PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. SOf) Greeks departed from it, even in the figures of chap. their deities, as early as the age of Polycletus*, ~, , "' . , ,. . . ,. Of Imagma- aiu! probably much earlier in subjects, which t j on . allowed the artists more liberty. Then the weight of the body, in standing figures, was thrown almost entirely upon one leg, by which means the muscles were, in some parts dilated, and in others, contracted; and the whole out- line of the figure became loose and irregular. S3. Hence arose that ease, grace, elegance, and dignity of attitude and gesture, which we so much admire in the Greek statues : not that these qualities consist in any lines of beauty, or depend upon the impressions, which any specific forms make on the organs of siffhfc On the contrary, they arise wholly from mental sym- pathies and the association of ideas : wherefore the forms which appear easy, graceful, elegant, or dignified in a horse, are totally different from those which appear so in a man; and even, in the same individual man or woman, the forms, presented to the eye, vary with every change in the fashion of dress : but nevertheless a grace- ful, easy, elegant, and dignified actor or actress, * Plin. lib. xxxiv. c. viii. He says generallv " pro- prium ejusdera, ut uno crure insisterent signa, exco- gitasse." But from figures upon coins I cannot but chink that this style of composition prevailed long before the eighty-seventh Olympiad, the time when Pclycletus flourished. 210 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. will still seem so; whatever be the dress, which ^„ , "' . the custom of the stage may oblige them to Of Imagma- XT • , ,° , , •„ t i on . assume. — rSot, indeed, that they will appear equally so in all : for some modes of dress show the person to advantage and others to disad- vantage : but still we find no difficulty in dis- tinguishing the easy and graceful, from the stiff* and awkward, through every disguise or con- cealment of the natural form. 84. The case is, that there are certain pos- tures, in which the body naturally throws itself, and certain gestures, which it naturally displays, when under the influence of certain passions and dispositions of mind ; so that, from our own internal feelings and sentiments, we learn to associate the ideas or notions of certain tempers and characters of mind, with those of certain attitudes and modes of carriage of the body; which arc, therefore, said to express those tem- pers and characters ; as the features of the face do more immediately and unequivocally: for the communication of sentiments from one person to another by the expression of the fea- tures, as well as by the tones of the voice, is, as before observed, by a natural and instinctive sympathy, anterior to. and, in a great measure,- independent of the association of ideas. 83. Upon this principle, dignity of attitude is that disposition of the limbs and person, •which, from habitual observation of ourselves PART IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 211 or others, we have learned to consider as ex- chap. pressive of a dignified and elevated mind; while n * . , - , /• r- i ,. . Of Imagina- grace and elegance or form are those disposi- t i on- tions and combinations of it, which, upon the same principle, seem to express refinement of intellect, polish of manners, or pleasantness of temper : for, though we apply the words grace and elegance to inanimate objects, it is always metaphorically and by analogy ; as we talk of lightness and heaviness of form, at the same time that we know that gravitation has nothing to do with form, but depends entirely on sub- stance. 86. Hence it is, that while our ideas of dignity of attitude and gesture have always continued nearly the same, those of grace and elegance have been in a perpetual state of change and fluctuation : for our notions of what is mean, and what is elevated, depend upon the natural and permanent sentiments of the soul ; but those of what is refined or polish- ed ; and pleasant, or the contrary, depend much upon artificial manners, which are incessantly varying. Not, however, that I would infer that there are no certain and natural principles of grace and elegance : for there are, unquestion- ably, certain and natural principles of good manners, arising from natural mildness, ame- nity, and pleasantness of disposition, which some particular attitudes and gestures of the p 'l tl'Z PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*. body are, by the laws of its physical constitu- tion, more appropriate, than others, toexpress:- but these are liable to the influence of artificial habits, and the arbitrary caprice of fashion ; of which we have seen very remarkable instances in our own times. It is but a few years since, the first principle of grace in French dancing was, that the body should not feel the movement of the limbs, but remain like an inflexible pillar or barrel, unaffected by -a\\ the violent contor- tions and distortions of the legs and arms, which grew out of it : yet if there be any one principle of grace more certain than another, it is that of a general harmony of movement and gesture through the whole body ; which is, indeed, equally necessary to all. expression : for if the same sentiment does not appear to predominate through the whole frame, and to influence every part of it alike, the effect must be very feeble and imperfect. To throw the limbs into extra- vagant and unnatural postures, or move them with great violence and rapidity, while the body remains motionless and erect, may show great skill and agility ; which, if displayed with ease, may be mistaken foi» grace; but, nevertheless, if it means nothing, it is mere trick ; and trick of the most despicable kind. •87. Dancing is mentioned by Aristotle as an imitative art, whose business was to express the sentiments and affections of the mind, by the 10 PART IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. '213 attitudes and gestures of the body, in the most chap. pleafsing and intelligible manner*; and this \ 1 ' . , , i , .Of Imagina- character, it has lately begun to assume again, lloli- though probably in a very inferior degree: for the distortions of tumbling still continue to be mixed with the graces of pantomime; and, as tl.ey appear difficult, the mass of mankind will probably continue to be pleased with them, for the same reason that they are more pleased with an optical deception, than with a picture of Titian. Every thing that excites wonder pleases ; and the pleasure, which it affords, is of a kind that every individual of the human race can relish: butjust and natural expression of refined or elevated sentiments, can only excite sympathy in those who have felt them. 88. It has been observed by travellers that the attitudes and gestures of savages, particu- larly those of high rank among them, are ex- tremely dignified and graceful • which arises from their being unperverted and unrestrained, and therefore expressing naturally and empha- tically the sentiments of the mind ; which, in men who have obtained their rank, as men always do in the early stages of civil society, by * Poetic, f. iii. Several kinds of the military dramatic dances of the Greeks are described by Xenophon; as performed by those under his command, on their return from the expedition against the King of Persia. AmC, Jib, vi. c.i. P S 214 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. their talents and courage, will of course be bold "• . and elevated, if not polished and refined. Oi Iinagina- 1 tion. 89. In the fine age of the arts in Greece, civilization had just arrived to that state, in which the manners of men are polished, but yet natural; and consequently their attitudes and gestures expressive and emphatical, with- out ever being coarse or violent. All the more noble and amiable sentiments of the mind were indicated by the correspondent expressions of the countenance and body ; while those of a degrading and unsocial cast were suppressed and concealed : their modes of dress too, having been adapted to display to advantage the natural motions and gestures of the body, and not to constrain, disguise, or conceal them, like those of modern Europe, the artists had constantly before their eyes every possible variety of models in which expressions of grace, elegance, and dignity were displayed in every possible mode and degree. In the gymnastic festivals too, where men of high rank and liberal educa- tion entered into contests of personal strength and agility, they had opportunities of seeing these models exhibited without reserve, not only in every accidental variation of attitude and position, but in every mode and degree of muscular effort and exertion. 90. By studying and imitating these, and not by applying to any abstract rules or predeter- PART 11. ASSOCIATION OF -IDEAS. 215 minate lines of grace, elegance, or beauty, the chap. great sculptors of -Greece appear to me to have •"; . o , • i • i i i u ' I magma- produced those master-pieces, which have been t ion. the admiration of all subsequent ages and gene- rations of civilized men : for as to lines, I know of none, that may not be graceful, elegant, and beautiful in proper circumstances and situa- tions, and none that are not the reverse when employed improperly*. This just application of them, just feeling alone can determine: for those who have attempted to regulate it by system, have only set up system against senti- ment ; and thus co-operated with the caprices of novelty and fashion in diffusing false taste through the world:- — zigzag walks, serpentine canals, spiral columns, broken or scooped pedi- ments, have all sprung from this systematic line of beauty, and, for some periods, triumphed over the common sense and common feelings of mankind. AItT IT. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 2'25 impossible, as it is to adapt their language, chap. dress, and manners to the refined usages of Qf j^ aina , * polished society. tion. 101. The best style of architecture for irre- gular and picturesque houses, which can now be adopted, is that mixed style, which charac- terizes the buildings of Claude and the Pous- sins : for as it is taken from models, which were built piece-meal, during many successive ages ; and by several different nations, it is distin- guished by no particular manner of execution, or class of ornaments ; but admits of all pro- miscuously, from a plain wall or buttress, of the roughest masonry, to the most highly wrought Corinthian capital : and, in a style professedly miscellaneous, such contrasts may be employed to heighten the relish of beauty, without disturbing the enjoyment of it by any appearance of deceit or imposture. In a mat- ter, however, which affords so wide a field for the licentious deviations of whim and caprice, it may be discreet always to pay some attention to authority ; especially when we have such authorities as those of the great landscape painters above mentioned ; the study of whose works may at once enrich and restrain in- * vention. 102. In choosing a situation for a house of this kind, which is to be a principal feature in a place, more consideration ought to be had of 22(5 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: the views towards it, than of those fromwards it : for, consistently with comfort, which ought to be the first object in every dwelling, it very rarely happens that a perfect composition of landscape scenery can be obtained from a door or window ; nor does it appear to me particu- larly desirable that it should be ; for few persons ever look for such compositions, or pay much attention to them, while within doors. It is in walks or rides through parks, gardens, or plea- sure grounds, that they are attended to and examined, and become subjects of conversation ; wherefore the seats, or places of rest, with which such walks and rides are accommodated, are the points of sight, to which the compositions of the scenery ought to be principally adapted. To them, picturesque foregrounds may always be made or preserved, without any loss of comfort or violation of propriety : for that sort of trim neatness, which both require in grounds immediately adjoining a house, is completely misplaced, when employed on the borders of a ride or walk through a park or plantation. If the house be the principal object or feature of the scene from these points of view, the middle ground will be the properest situation for it ; as will clearly appear from the landscapes of the painters above cited : this is also the situa- tion, which considerations of domestic comfort will generally point out ; as being the middle PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 227 degree of elevation, between the too exposed chap. ridges of the hills, and the too secluded re- ^ r "' . _ , „. T . . . Of Imagina- cesses of the vallics. In any position, how- t j on ever, above the point of sight, such objects may be happily placed ; and contribute to the embellishment of the adjoining scenery : but there are scarcely any buildings, except bridges, which will bear being looked down upon ; a foreshortening from the roof to the base being necessarily awkward and ungraceful. 103. Sir John Vanbrugh is the only archi- tect, I know of, who has either planned or placed his houses according to the principle here recommended ; and, in his two chief works, Blenheim and Castle Howard, it ap- pears to have been strictly adhered to, at least in the placing of them. The views from the principal fronts of both are bad, and much inferior to what other parts of the grounds would have afforded ; but the situations of both, as objects to the surrounding scenery, are the best that could have been chosen ; and both are certainly worthy of the best situations, which, not only the respective places, but the island of Great Britain could afford. ] 04. The direct reverse may be said of* the late Mr. Brown ; who, in the only place, in which he was employed both as architect and improver, with unlimited powers of design and expence in both, has built a house, which no q 2 228 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! situation could adapt to any scenery, except that of a square or a street ; and placed it where no house could have served as an em- bellishment to the scenery, which does sur- round it. Such ever has and ever will be the difference between the works of artists of genius, who consult their feelings, and those of plodding mechanics, who look only to their rules. The former will necessarily be unequal and irregular; and produce much to blame and ridicule, as well as much to applaud and admire; whereas the latter, howsoever extolled by the fashions of the day, will never rise above negative merit. To & (pvct, K^anarov aTrav. av§gcc7rccv agETCca; Kteo$ cogxaav ItoaSai. ctvsu 3e §sx, atviyat- -(jlevov ya anaioTEgov %p»- Pindar. Olym. 9. 152. \05. Among the accompaniments of a house, considered as an object in a landscape, water is one of the most important ; and one, which, in this humid climate, may almost every where be obtained, if the situation be chosen with tolerable skill and judgment: but in most of the artificial pieces of water that I have seen, an ill-judged affectation of copying simple PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 229 nature has destroyed all appearance of nature chap. or simplicity; together with all beauty or pic- lI ' . turesque effect. An artificial pool or lake may t ion. be made exactly to imitate a natural or acci- dental one ; and, if it be diversified with broken and uneven banks, bays, promontories and islands, according to the directions given by Mr. Price in his excellent essay on the sub- ject, it may form one of the most beautiful features in the composition of a landscape. But this has never satisfied improvers : their ambition has always been to make artificial rivers ; and thus to imitate that which is, in reality, inimitable : for, without running water, the river can be but a mere canal. Even, if the curling, rippling, and foaming of the water, which constitute the principal beauties of na- tural rivers, could be dispensed with, no con- trivance of art, nor exertion of labour, can ever mould the banks into that endless variety of picturesque forms, into which they are hol- lowed and broken by the various eddies and falls of a running stream. An artificial river, therefore, even if it could be made beautiful to the eye, will always be an impostor, whose false pretensions will offend the mind. A natural brook, on the contrary, be it ever so small, may be extremely beautiful in a con- fined situation ; and where the ground admits of its expansion, it may be made to issue from, q 3 fi30 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: or terminate in a lake or pool, with extremely happy effect : but if ever an attempt is made to turn it into a river by widening it and dam- ming it up, it is utterly ruined. 106. In every other attempt of art to coun- terfeit the operations of nature or effects of accident, it ought to be equally cautious in proceeding no further than it is certain of success, as the detection of imposture always renders it odious and disgusting. If a com- fortable and convenient walk or ride can be so conducted through wood, or forest scenery, as, to appear a mere sheep- track, or accidental opening, it will be the more pleasing to the imagination : but if it is to go along the sides of banks, or other grounds, so formed, that a convenient road must necessarily be a work of labour and art, it had better avow its cha- racter boldly ; and stand forth as an artificial terrace or shelf, than bunglingly attempt to hide it in the broken banks and unequal sides of an accidental slip : for such breaks and inequalities, if natural or accidental, would also extend to the surface, and completely dis- qualify it for the use, to which it is appro- priated. Where the ground is rocky, indeed, rugged and unequal banks may be obtained by breaking instead of hewing the stone to be removed ; and this may almost always be done with good effect : but if the terrace or walk be PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 231 to be formed out of mere earth, irregularities chap. and inequalities will always appear either ** . 1 ./ 1 1 Of j ma g ina< affected or slovenly. tion. 107. It has already been shown that small - ness of size does not contribute to make objects more beautiful ; so far as beauty is a quality pleasing to the sense only ; and I think it is easy to show that it contributes as little to that which addresses itself to the imagination. It is true, as the author of the Inquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful observes, that we often speak of a pretty little thing, and of a great ugly thing*; but we also speak of a large handsome woman, a large handsome horse, and & large handsome house; and surely hand- some means beautiful as well as pretty. It is true likewise, as the same author observes, that diminutives in all languages are terms of endearment; but that is because they are the terms naturally applied by parents to their children ; whence ideas of parental affection are always associated with them ; which being the first and the strongest of our merely mental affections, the terms that express it are meta- phorically applied to other objects; for which we feel any affection similar either in its mode or degree : but if we join the diminutive to a term, which precludes all such affection; or * Part III. f. xiii, Q 4 232 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: does not even, in some degree, express it, it immediately converts it into a term of con- tempt, and reproach: thus a bantling, a fond- ling, a darling, &c. are terms of endearment ; but a witling, a changeling, a lordling, &c. are invariably terms of scorn : so in French, mon petit enfant is an expression of endearment; but mon petit monsieur is an expression of the most pointed reproach and contempt. 108. The marital affection of a man for a woman partakes of the nature of parental affection ; as that of the woman for the man does of filial ; whence the terms of endear- ment would naturally be transferred from the one to the other : that yielding delicacy too, which constitutes the principal charm of the female character, as it is nearly allied to com- parative weakness, so is it, in some degree, allied to comparative littleness of person ; which may therefore be considered as an in- gredient of feminine attractions, though it has nothing whatever to do with abstract beauty of form ; which, as Aristotle observes, is limited onlv within those degrees of magnitude which bound the field of vision in one extreme, and preclude distinct discrimination of the parts in the other*. Between these, all degrees of '&' ZicrTi , • , ', , , , tion. justice to others, which tee would have others do unto us, much more perfect; for if a good man confine his beneficence to that justice, which his modesty might induce him to require from others, his goodness will be of a very negative kind. 1 12. Perhaps the safest general axiom, that can be adopted for moral improvement, is, to cherish and indulge all the mild and benevolent passions and affections, as Jar as is consistent with prudence ; and to control and subdue, to the utmost of our power, all those that are violent, sordid, or selfish : for without some mixture of passion, sentiment, or affection, beneficence itself is but a cold virtue ; and philosophers and divines, who have laboured to subject them all to the dominion of reason, or sink them in the more brilliant illuminations of faith, have only succeeded in suppressing the mild and seductive, together with some few of the sordid and selfish passions; while all those of a sour and sanguinary cast have acquired additional force and acrimony from that pride and confidence, which the triumph over the others naturally inspired. The censor Cato, the saint Bernard, and the reformer Calvin, were equally insensible to the blan- dishments of love, the allurements of pleasure, PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 237 and the vanity of wealth ; and so, likewise, chap. were the monsters Marat and Robespierre : "' n 11 -c a j Oflmagina- but all equally sacrificed every generous and t^n. finer feeling of humanity, which none are naturally without, to an abstract principle or opinion ; which, by narrowing their under- standings, hardened their hearts, and left them under the unrestrained guidance of all the atrocious and sanguinary passions, which party violence could stimulate or excite. 113. This will always be the effect of such principles or opinions, whatever they are ; whe- ther true or false ; whether mild or severe * ; provided they are embraced with a degree of eagerness and avidity sufficient to give men confidence in their infallibility, and make them supersede the feelings of nature. To enforce the doctrines of a religion, which prohibits violence and bloodshed in every case, even that of self-defence, more violence has been exercised, more blood shed, and more cruel tortures inflicted, than in any other dispute or quarrel, that ever was engendered by the turbulent and unruly passions of men ; and whether the point at issue be a dogma of reli- gion, an axiom of philosophy, or a maxim of * " Neque enim multum interesse putamus ad homi- num fortunas, quales quis opiniones abstractas de natura et rerum principiis babeat." Verulam, Nov, Org. Scieot. 1. i, cxvi. 238 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. politics, its effects will be the same, provided _ . . * . it has sufficient influence to enslave the natural Ot Imagina- . tion. affections of the soul, and induce men to pre- fer a theorem of the head to a sentiment of the heart. 114. Had Lord Bacon seen such events, as have lately happened, he would not have said that atheism did never perturb states * : for if men once unite to maintain systematically that there are many Gods, one God, or no God, the moral effects will be exactly the same : the dogma instantly becomes the rally- ing point of a sect or faction; and all the selfish, violent, and atrocious passions are collected into its vortex. It is true, that a negative dogma is less likely, than an affirmative one, to engage such passions f ; because it is less flattering to that opinionative pride and presumption, which is necessary to give them vigour and energy sufficient for any great exertions : but, nevertheless, that it may be- come the rallying point of a faction, and be a motive for very bloody persecution, we have had abundant proof. If men can once sup- pose an opinion to be infallibly certain, they will feel an inclination to propagate it ; and * Essays, 18. f " Is humano intellectui error est proprius et per- petuus, ut magis moveatur et excitetur affirmativis quern uegativis."— Verulam. in Nov. Org, Scient. lib. i. xlvi. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. £39 consequently square their morality to that chap. inclination; which will lead them to employ f imagina- force, if persuasion do not prevail. Truth, tion. they say, is the foundation of all virtue ; and truth is, to every man, that which he himself thinks *. ll J. Rules and systems have exactly the same influence upon taste and manners, as dogmas have upon morals. If a person be polite by rule ; how just soever his rules may be, or with whatever strictness and exactitude he may observe them, his behaviour will be constrained and formal ; and void of all that graceful ease, and ready adaptation to every varying shade of circumstance and situation, which constitute what is called good breed- ing; and which can only proceed from a just and discriminating tact, cultivated and re- fined by habitual exercise. Persons, who attempt to display their taste and talents in art or literature by rule, always err in exactly the same manner. Their rules and systems can never reach every possible case; and, even if they could, the very act of applying them would distract the attention from the sentiment excited ; and, consequently, pre- vent or destroy all just feeling, by making * " Quod enim mavult homo verum esse, id potius credit." Ibid. xlix. 240 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE f them hesitate and doubt whether they ought to feel or not, till they had tried their senti- ments by the standard of their opinions : but sentiment, that is checked or impeded, is at the same time enfeebled ; and thus, though rules and theories may prevent those, who have no just feeling or natural tact, from judging totally wrong, they in an equal de- gree, prevent those who have, from judging entirely right. 1 16* More than a century has now elapsed, since the taste and magnificence of the prin- cipal sovereigns of Europe first formed aca- demies in their respective kingdoms, for the study of the arts of painting, sculpture, &c. ; in which professors of all the different sciences, connected with those arts, were appointed, models provided, and such of the students, as seemed to make the greatest progress, and possess the most promising talents, sent to travel at the ex pence of the institution, that they might profit by a comparative view of the different styles and manners of all the different schools, and acquire all the information, which the remains of antiquity, and the most perfect works of their predecessors in 'the respective arts, could afford. Under the fostering influ- ence of institutions so favourable, it might naturally be supposed that these arts must have been ever since in a progressive state of im- PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 241 provement; and, considering the high degree chap. of excellence, from which that of painting "" started, that it must now be little short of ab- ^nf" stract perfection. This is, however, so far from being the case, that not one of these aca- demies has yet produced an artist, whom public opinion has ranked among painters*. Heaven- * The candid reader will observe that I am speaking only of the regular students of academies, and not of those who have incidentally belonged to them. The most complete establishment of the kind, that has ever existed, is the French academy : but though Fiance produced several great painters before its institution, it has not produced one since. Generations of academi- cians have arisen and passed away one after the other, each the pride and wonder of their day ; but we look in vain for a Poussin, a Le Sueur, or Bourdon among them. Happily our own academy has hitherto escaped the contagion of system ; and every artist taken up a style of his own, suited to his taste or talents; so that an English exhibition displays more variety than all those on the continent together. By thus continuing to apply the principles of British liberty to British art, we may rea- sonably hope to reach a degree of excellence in painting, which has never yet been attained : for painting, in modern Europe, has never approached that state of ab- stract perfection, which we admire in the sculpture of ancient Greece; and there can be no reason in the nature of tilings why it should not attain it. The system of all the foreign academies, whose pro- ductions I have seen, is not only one, but a very bad one ; so that, as Mr. Hopner has observed, they are not only not approaching the excellence of the great painters of Italy and Flanders, but going in a road which leads di- rectly from it. R 242 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. born genuises have been continually announced "• by them; and students of the highest expecta- tion Sma ~ t * on ' ever y y ear > sent forth ; but all went and returned through the same beaten track of mediocrity, and just acquired enough of the art to make them miraculous boys, and con- temptible men. 1 1 7. This effect has been so uniform and universal, during so long a period of time, and in so many different countries, that it cannot be merely accidental, or proceed from the casual incapacity of individuals; but must be owing to some radical vice in the institutions themselves : which radical vice, I believe to be nothing more than system ; which whether it be good or bad, true or false, equally teache* men to work by rule, instead of by feeling and observation. Those, who live and study toge-* ther, naturally and imperceptibly imitate each other : whence every academy acquires a style and principle of its own ; which, by degrees, limits and cramps all the exertions of those who belong; to it. Whatever they look at, either in nature or art, is seen through a par- ticular medium of their own, which charac- terizes and vitiates every copy or imitation, which they make from it. Hence whatever acquisitions they make, either of theoretical knowledge or practical facility, are merely the knowledge and facility of doing wrong; so PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 24S that the figures, with which they cover can- chap. vass, become as much the result of mechanic ^ r T IU . , . ,. Of Imagina- labour as the canvass itself, tion. US. That, which constitutes the great cha- racteristic diiference between liberal and me- chanic art ; and which gives to the former all its superiority, is feeling or sentiment ; a qua- lity, that is always easily perceived, but inca- pable of being described. It is this which gives, in different ways, those inexpressible charms and graces to the works of Corregio, of Rubens, of Rembrandt, and of Claude : which, amidst inaccuracies, that every student of every aca- demy knows how to reprobate and avoid, still continue to fascinate every beholder ; and will continue to do so, as long as a trace of them shall remain. Had these great artists been bred in the trammels of an academy, they also would have avoided their inaccuracies : but the same causes, that restrained their deviations one way, would have restrained them another ; and, by preventing them from transgressing rules, pre- vented them from soaring above them^ Their knowledge in this case might have been more correct, and their practice more regular : but their observation would have been less various and extensive ; their use and application of it less free and vigorous ; and their execution more mannered, and less adapted to the re- r 2 244 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: spcctive subjects, upon which it was occasion- ally employed. 119. If, however^ academical science and precision can be united with feeling and senti- ment, there is no doubt that the result would be a degree of perfection hitherto unknown to the art ; and which perhaps the limited powers of human nature are not capable of reaching. Annibal Caracci has combined them in a greater degree than any other painter : but yet how inferior is he, in the first, not only to the great artists of antiquity, but to Raphael ; and, in the second, to the great Flemish painters, Rubens, Vandyke and Rembrandt ! In the expression of sentiment and passion, he is, indeed, supe- rior to all the moderns, except Raphael ; but the sentiment or feeling, of which I am now treating, is of a different kind ; and belongs to the execution, rather than the subject or design of the picture. It is that felicity in catching the little transitory effects of nature and ex- pressing them in the imitation, so that they may appear to be dropped, as it were, fortui- tously from the pencil, rather than produced be- labour, study, or design : it is that, in short, which distinguishes a work of taste and genius from one of mere science and industry ; and which often raises the value of an inaccurate original above that of the most correct copy. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 245 120. The art of sculpture is necessarily, from chap. the process of its execution, less susceptible of Q . TI " . this kind of excellence, than that of painting ; tion. and, as it is now generally practised, cannot admit of it in any degree whatever. Among the great artists of antiquity, however, the brass or marble statue was not a mere servile copy, set out by the rule and compass, and finished with the rasp and file, from the model of tlfe sculptor, by the hands of ignorant mechanics : the touches of the master visited every part of it ; and the last finish was by the chisel, wielded by the hand that had modelled, and directed by the mind, that had conceived the whole. 121. The Latin having been the language in which all public business was transacted throughout the Roman empire, a competent knowledge of it was necessary for all, who sought public employment either civil or mili- tary. Public schools were therefore erected for the study of it, early in the second century of Christianity ; and public professors of rhetoric appointed through all the principal cities of the western provinces * ; from whose appointment, we may date the complete cor- ruption and decline of Latin eloquence. Rule and system were then substituted to tact and sentiment ; the form and length of every period * Juvenal. Sat. xy. 110. R 3 246 principles of taste: were prescribed ; and the various figures of speech distributed through the discourse, with all the exact precision of mathematical propor- tion. Style then became mere trick of me- chanism, deriving no character, either from the mind, from which it sprang, or the subject, upon which it was employed ; and consequently having no means of exciting interest or com- nfanding attention, but that unceasing and un- meaning glitter of tinsel ornament, which ever distinguishes the productions of those, who have become eloquent by studying words rather than things ; and whose ideas are consequently subservient to their expressions, instead of their expressions being adapted to their ideas. 122. If a subject be properly felt, and pro- perly understood, it will of itself supply the mind with proper expressions : for the common use of language, necessary to acquire matter sufficiently copious to enable any person to speak or write well, will supply words proper and abundant, if the orator or author have memory to retain, and judgment to select : but, if he have not, the arts of rhetoric or cri- ticism will never give him either ; though they may teach him to abuse both, by substituting fashion to feeling, artifice to nature, and affect- ation to simplicity. The Greek being merely the language of polite literature and social amusement, the study of it was left to the taste VART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 247 of individuals, uncramped and unperverted by chap. the pedantry of public teachers ; whence it ^ r r IU . , , • -i_ -iii 01 Imagina- continued to be written with a considerable tion degree of spirit, ease, and elegance, when all the force and vigour of the Latin was dissolved into froth, or diluted into vapid and turgid inflation. 123. Perhaps it is fortunate for our own language, that it is not made a specific branch of study in our public schools and colleges ; as it thus escapes free from the rules and restric- tions, in which public professors of rhetoric would fetter and entangle it ; and, of what sort these rules would be, we- have many instances to show, in an elaborate work upon the subject, written by one of the most able and judicious professors, that any university could ever boast. I shall quote one out of the many ; and lest I should injure his meaning by debasing his expressions, give it in his own words. 1 24. " Addressing the several parts of one's " body," says Dr. Blair in his sixteenth lecture, " as if they were animated, is not congruous to " the dignity of passion. For this reason, I " must condemn the following passage in a very " beautiful poem of Mr. Pope's, Eloisa to " Abelard : " Dear fatal narrie ! rest ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd. R 4 248 PRINCIPLES OF taste: Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, Where, mix'd with God's, his loved idea lies : O write it not, my hand — the name appears Already written — wash it out my tears." " Here are several different objects and parts " of the body personified ; and each of them is " addressed and spoken to : let us consider with " what propriety. Dear fatal name, &c. To " this no reasonable objection can be made : for " as the name of a person often stands for the " person himself, and suggests the same ideas, " it can bear this personification with sufficient " dignity. Next Eloisa speaks to herself, and " personifies her heart for this purpose: hide it, " my heart, &c. As the heart is a dignified " part of the human frame, and is often put " for the mind or affections, this too may pass " without blame. But when from her heart " she passes to her hand, and tells her hand " not to write his name, this is forced and un- " natural ; a personified hand is low, and not " in the style of true passion ; and the figure " becomes still worse when, in the last place, i( she exhorts her tears to wash out what her " hand had written, O write it not, &c. There " is in these two lines an air of epigrammatic " conceit, which native passion never suggests ; " and which is altogether unsuitable to the " tenderness, which breathes through the rest " of that admirable poem." PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 249 1*25. Every common reader, I believe, from chap. the time of the publication of the poem to the ^ r a ' ,-,','•». i i Of Imagina- present day, has telt the lines, here censured, tion ° to be extremely affecting, and strongly expres- sive of the perturbed and impassioned state of mind of the person in whose name they are written. But common readers never think of making such frigid distinctions in the compara- tive rank and dignity of the different parts of the body, as that which the learned professor here makes between the heart and the hand : a distinction as unfair in its statement, as it is cold and frivolous in its application ; for the hand is as often used metaphorically to signify energy or power, as the heart is to signify affec- tion, or the head intellect. " He had a head to contrive, a tongue to persuade, and a hand to execute any mischief," says a noble historian, of the leader of an adverse party ; by which, it is to be presumed that he did not mean to sig- nify his manual dexterity in wielding a dagger, or pulling a trigger, but his vigor and capacity for conducting and executing, as well as design- ing and promoting those public measures, which the historian thought mischievous. 1 26. I cannot but think that, had Dr. Blair known that a passage of an ancient Greek poet, which has stood the test of ages, and been uni- versally felt and recognized as one of the most tender and pathetic in any language, equally 250 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! violates his rule, he would have been less con- fident of its infallibility ; or at least more cau- tious in the application of it. The passage, I mean, is that part of the celebrated soliloquy of Euripides's Medea, in which she apostro- phizes her children, when about to murder them : 3ot a Aot, aairacatrOai fiYiTpi, deZiav x e P a ' £1 QiXtxtyi xeip, (piXrarov 3e pot ffTOfia^ KoU (TXyfJLCX. KOU TTpOffUTTOV EUyEVEg TEKVUV, JLvdai/xovoiToV aXA ekei' t«J' svQatie Xlamp aipEiXET. a y\v>tEta 7rf.o ^TVEUfJUX §' h&VTOV TEHVUV, XupSlTE, X u P £lr ' That the learned professor should have over- looked so known and celebrated a passage as this, is very remarkable, and only to be ac- counted for by the very limited and superficial knowledge of the Greek writers, which his lec- tures display. It may be said, indeed, that Medea does not apostrophize her own hand, or her own features : but our critic makes no such distinction ; and if he did, there would be an example against his general rule, quite as strong, and as much in point, from the same excellent tragedy ; and of little less authority : for Medea, when about to kill her children, addresses her own hand in the following spirited and expressive lines; in which it evidently FART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 251 stands for the general energy or active power chap. both of her body and mind : Ay u ratoiva y^Eip e/m, *as£e !«poj, Aa£' , e^tte 7rpo{ @x\£ida \u7rngav @iov, Kai m» «a«i(T^j, f/.nd' ava(/.vri may serve as an illustra- tion, s. After reviewing and criticising with much solemnity the different Greek translations of Gray's Elegy, and bestowing with due delibera- tion the palm of superiority upon the Etonian Nestor, they produce the following specimen of what the splendid imagery, and genuine grandeur of diction exhibited in his immortal poem " The Bard" might be in the language best adapted to do them justice. Overs HuXiv^Ofxtvoq Sttvcog ttftcoijv o jxavli^ Maxgov ysvEtov, km (Maamo'hicii Tff%?s l Clau Kowrrtg ty ta.^ay^ivx asgi En;\|3ov* Q$v%0jjt.£VQ$ 5"' aeid'EVj British Critic, p. 244. 250 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: What degree of justice is done them here, or whether this be any language at all, I shall now take the liberty to examine. o4> - Sf^/za 5"' o TEyyvv daagua n avjiO-TOL-Jcu run iitxtpseicrSxk x.a.1 mnicrzau to qXov. o yag ir^ocov v> pn ii^oaovy pvidc'./ Trow* tifi'o-/Mv, a^e / .Of Judg- tlie pathos of that novel : tor we can conceive mcnt. nothing more ludicrously preposterous, than a gay rake, and a young girl in the country, so dressed. Tom Jones must have equally worn a tye-wig when he came to London, and was dressed after the fashion of the day : but the author, with his usual superiority of judgment, has merely told us that he was fashionably and well dressed; and omitted all particulars, which would now cast an air of ridicule upon the per- son of his hero. 38. Upon the same principle, all real history, of a date sufficiently recent for such particulars to be generally known, cannot afford proper subjects for serious dramatic, and still less for epic fiction : since, even if the fashions of dress have nothing of the preposterous and ridiculous extravagance of tye-wigs, wide hoops, and long ruffles ; yet, in the mind of the reader, indivi- dual is necessarily substituted to general nature; and, consequently, the imagination is cramped and restricted ; so that it can no longer expand itself sufficiently to receive the exaggerated images of poetry. What exertions of personal prowess, Achilles, Ulysses, or iEneas might have been capable of, we have no means of knowing ; and, therefore, listen attentively to 5 u 3 294 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: and feel ourselves interested in all the extrava- gant feats, which the poets attribute to them : but we all know, from unquestionable authority, that neither Julius Caesar, nor Henrv IV. of France, were men of remarkable bodily strength ; but that they gained victories and subdued na- tions by very different means : wherefore, when poetry presumes to attribute such feats to them, the fictions appear at once to be puerile and absurd. Antiquaries, I believe, are generally agreed that iEneas never was in Italy ; since the testimony of Homer clearly proves that his posterity were reigning in Troy, when the Iliad was composed * : but, nevertheless, the events of that remote period were so little known; and the accounts of them so various, uncertain, and obscure, that Virgil was perfectly at liberty to avail himself of a doubtful tradition for the subject of his poem ; which loses nothing of its interest by being founded in fiction. This is not, however, the case with the principal epi- sode in the Henriade : for every person of liberal education knows that Henry IV. never was in England, nor had any personal interview with Queen Elizabeth : wherefore the artifice of the fiction is at once detected ; and the whole appears to be merely a bald and common-place * See II. xx. v. 306. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 295 trick to give the poet an opportunity of relating, in the person of the king, the preceding events of the war. 39. Similar objections may be made to the bringing any allegorical personages distinctly into action ; not only because the artifice of the fiction is too obvious to admit of their actions becoming interesting; but also because the ideas, which we conceive of their personal existence, are never sufficiently clear and deter- minate to induce us to consider them as real g agents : for, as all our ideas are received through the senses, we cannot, in reality, form any distinct notions of any higher order of beings than that of men, the highest that has come within the reach of our organic percep- tions. The mind has, indeed, a power, in itself, of multiplying and dividing, as well as of combining and separating without end • and it is the exertion of this faculty in multiplying number, quantity, time, space, and power, that we call infinity, eternity, and omnipotence : for of these incomprehensible subjects we have no ideas whatsoever ; nor can we form any ideas of beings superior to ourselves, but by employ- ing this faculty in exaggerating our own powers of body or mind, or in combining them with those of other animals that are equally objects of sense. The gods of Homer and the angels of Milton are alike exaggerated men ; and if U 4 296 PRINCIPLES of taste: other poets choose to make new forms for these celestial and supernatural beings, they can only do it by combining those of different terrestrial creatures, and thus producing monsters. In giving wings to angels, and horns, tails, and cloven feet to devils, we only make the one partake of the nature of birds, and the other of that of quadrupeds or reptiles. 40. In epic poetry, indeed, the forms of in- tellectual or supernatural agents never need be so particularized, as to be presented distinctly to the mind of the reader : but, in dramatic representations, there can be nothing left inde- terminate for the imagination to work upon; whence, I believe, every person, who, after having been a reader,, has become a spectator of the witches in Macbeth, has felt how totally they lose their grandeur by being exhibited on the stage in distinct forms. It is not, however, as a great author has supposed*, that obscurity is any efficient cause of the sublime ; for ob- scurity is mere privation : but the ideas excited in the imagination are narrowed and debased by being thus confined to particular impressions upon the organs of sense ; and those, too, of mean and ridiculous objects; such as men, whom we know, fantastically disguised to imi- tate old women. * Inquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 297 41. Such subjects are, for the same reasons, little less improper for painting, and even more so for sculpture : for though painting may show indistinct and half-concealed forms, they will stiil be forms endowed with shape and colour of some sort ; and consequently the powers of the imagination in augmenting and expanding will be limited in their exertions. In sculpture every thing is determinate and distinct; and, consequently, every objection acquires double force. 42. Symbolical figures may, however, be very proper subjects for either art : since, in pictures and statues, we do not consider them as real intelligent agents, but as elegant signs of con- vention meant to convey, under visible forms, certain abstract or generalized ideas to the understanding. In this sense they are like the personifications of poetry, although they cannot be used with the same licence, or to the same extent: for passions and appetites, and even privations, are often personified with the hap- piest effect in poetry, of which an instance has been already cited * ; but, if a painter or sculp- tor would represent anger or grief, he can only do it by making an angry or weeping indivi- dual ; and, if he would represent hunger or thirst, he must necessarily employ the disgust- * Part I. c. v. f.31. 29S PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: ing image of a starved or wasted object. But to exhibit the abstract virtues, energies, or per- fections either of mind or body, he has only to copy such countenances and forms as are ob- served in nature to be most frequently joined to ..them, and best adapted to express them ; and then to improve and embellish those coun- tenances and forms from his own general know- ledge of the human body, so as to render them no longer portraits of individuals, but general abstract imitations of the species, appropriated, by some peculiarities of conformation and ex- pression, to represent certain characteristic attributes more strongly and distinctly, than ever they are found to exist in any particular person. 43. Such were the figures under which the artists of Greece represented their deities. They were exact representations of men and women ; every limb, feature, and muscle being strictly natural ; but still of such men and women, as the general laws of our structure only prove to exist; but of which no one ever saw a complete model in any single individual. Thus every physical and moral perfection had its appropriate figure ; the attributes of power, wisdom, strength, agility, fruitfulness, &c. &c. being severally represented by different varia- tions of the human shape and countenance ; and, as the artists laboured through successive PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 299 ages to express given ideas by given forms, all the redundancies of individual caprice were restrained ; and all the powers of ingenuity and industry united to improve and embellish those forms only ; which were therefore carried to a degree of perfection beyond that of Nature herself. 44. It is, however, to the genius of poetry, particularly to that of the author of the Iliad, whoever he was, that imitative art principally owes this high style of excellence : for it was by perpetually grasping at his sublime ideas, and labouring to express them in visible forms, that they were principally enabled to reach it. From this inexhaustible source, Phidias drew the sublime character of his Jupiter, which served as a model to all succeeding artists; and from this also was derived that elevated and yet chaste style of heroic or general nature, which always distinguishes the works of the great artists of Greece, even where the exer- tions of their talents were free and unrestrained; and the forms and characters prescribed by no rules but those of their own taste. In these there is one systematic principle of elegance and beauty, descending from the highest to the lowest of their efforts — from the furniture of the temple to that of the kitchen — not consist- ing in any lines of grace or beauty mechanically applied ; but in a general congruity and pro- SOO PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! priety of arrangement in the parts, resulting from accurate intelligence guided by just feel- ing. By having their attention at once directed to common or individual nature, and to nature elevated and improved by the genius of poetry, they raised the style of imitation above that of its archetypes, without any of that deviation into manner, which has been so fatal to taste in modern times : for, though the revivers of the art in Italy, particularly Michel Angelo and his followers, have abundantly succeeded in departing from the individual peculiarities of their models, they have not been so successful in keeping clear of their own. Their figures, it is true, are not those of any one particular age or country, or of any one particular class of individuals ; but, what is worse, they are those of one particular artist ; and such as have never been seen but in his works. 45. We are naturally so much disposed to admire things, which appear difficult and sur- prising, that I do not wonder at the admiration, with which the works of Michel Angelo have been viewed, though I was never able to parti- cipate in it. Ease in design seems to me to be quite as requisite to the perfection of art, as ease in execution : for, whether the mind, or the hand of the artist display symptoms of constrained labour, the effect upon the imagi- nation will be the same ; the " ut sibi quivis 3 PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 301 speret idem" being the infallible and indispens- chap. able characteristic of high excellence in both. m * " If I had seen a ghost," says Partridge on see- meat inc Garrick in Hamlet, " I should have looked exactly as that little man did * ;" and this simple observation contains the justest and most ex- alted praise, that can be bestowed. But it is of a kind, which no one, even of his most enthu- siastic admirers, ever thought of bestowing upon any composition of Michel Angelo. We sympathize with the struggles of Laocoon and his sons entangled in the folds of the serpents, because we feel that they are such as we our- selves should make in a similar situation : but the postures, into which the figures are thrown, in Michel Angelo's picture of the Plague of Serpents, are such as no human figures ever did put themselves into, except in a drawing academy, or painter's study. 46. It is not only with relation to themselves, but with relation to others, that the evil which men do, lives after them, while the good is often buried in their graves. The good, which this great artist did to imitative art, by co-ope- rating with Lionardo da Vinci, and Fra. Bar- tolomeo di San Marco in breaking through the dry meagre style derived from the Byzantine painters, ended with that style; and, of course, ceased with his first great exertions : but the * See Fielding's History of a Foundling. evil which ho did. in nuking c\tra\a»;ance and distortion piss fair and Mgov. •ul e\. . still spreads with increasing virulence of coi . and. while it is supported by such brilliant theoi . Inquiry into the Sublime and Ik tiful, there can be but taint hopes of its ceasing subsiding. It' the power of e\citmg surprise and astonishment be the genuine principle of sublimity, the compositions of the Sistine chapel and the tombs ot the Medici are certainly tlie most sublime works in art ; except, perhaps, some later.productions ot" this school ; for this is a style, in which imitators generally surpass ..e types. 47. Invention, in fever} art. becomes more . departs from the mo*, and simplicity of nature: whence this style is flattering both to vanity and indolence ; men Wing natur. ased to find that they can produce, without much exertion of thought or science, worki, which are more original and surprising, and theft .cording to this new system, more sublime than those, which are the slow result of deep research, long study, and on. The peculiarities of trick and eccentricities of manner arc thus exalted into the characteristics of heaven- born genius and native talent ; and if the public do not receive t. orts with the favour PAIM I /. A I ■<>< I A TIO • 01 I MAS. which the artist expect*, be comforl . bin that trig woii.. are above nilgai capacities; the . foi the true sublime having been aim < onfined to the chosen few. 48. The great artist* oi antiquity, thoti they exalt the characters of theii gods and heroes above those ol ordinary nature; when exhibited in action, they put theii limbs and bodies into uch po ion i would spontaneously produce in common life- Jupitef wield i his tbunderboh »tune his i in., and Minerva net spear, exactly a ild : but, j i i the ■■ ires of Michel An; all is directly reversed. Thechs tough remote from ordinary or individual nature, oftenei belo* than above it, in dignity of < ion; but then their attitudes and g< ordinary nature under any i ircu . except i in- fluence it in a painter's 01 sculptor's study, 01 academy. Even in representing sleep, lie could employ a natural o; easy posture; but baa pot Adam into one, in aria narcotic powers of opium could scarcely nave enabled him to re 4<>- It w;j rant of industry that Michel An into this error; but from an ea| d injudi- cious desire to bt should have consulted feeling, and e 304 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. sentiment Though not to be compared even 1,0 with a third rate artist of ancient Greece in ment# knowledge of the structure and pathology of the human body, he appears to have known more than any of his contemporaries; and when he made his knowledge subservient to his art, and not his art to his knowledge, he pro- duced some compositions of real excellence. Such are almost all those, which he designed for others to execute ; such as the Raising of Lazarus, the Descent from the Cross, and the Entombing of Christ ; in which he lowered the tone of his invention to meet the capacities of the colourists, Sebastian del Piombo, and Da- niel di Volterra ; and thus, through mere con- descension, became natural, easy, and truly sublime. Where he puts forth all his might, and sacrifices just expression to what is called grandeur of form and outline, he seems to me to counteract his own ends : for form, consi- dered in the abstract, is neither grand nor mean ; but owes all its power of exciting sen- timents, either of the one kind, or the other, to the association of ideas. We have learned, by habitual observation, that certain forms of the limbs and body are adapted to great exertions ; and certain forms of the features, to great ex- pression, or the expression of great character, and lofty sentiment; whence such forms excite grand and elevated ideas of the objects, in PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 305 which they appear. In the abstract forms themselves, there is, however, no more of grandeur, than there is in so many mathe- matical lines of similar figure and dimension : for, though we extend our ideas of grandeur of character to the forms of inanimate objects, it is still upon the principle of association and sympathy ; as will be more fully explained in the ensuing Chapter # . 50. All the effect of forms, in imitative art, being thus owing to that which they signify or express, truth is the principle and foundation of all their power in affecting the mind : for, in these cases, expression, that is not true, ceases to be expression. If large muscles, limbs, and features, and a vast outline of body do not imply a capacity for great exertions, but ap- pear heavy, torpid, unwieldy, or disjointed, * Mr. Alison has observed that grandeur and sublimity of form is entirely owing to association and expression : but by endeavouring to reduce every thing to one prin- ciple, he makes that principle so completely the criterion both of his judgment, and his perceptions, as to discover sublimity in the forms of pieces of artillery, mortars> spears, swords, and even daggers, because they are asso- ciated with ideas of danger, terror, &c. Essays on Taste, p. 226. His senses are little less complaisant to his theories in the article of beauty ; which he also deduces entirely from association; but seems to forget, though he abund- antly exemplifies, the influence, which the association of a favorite system may acquire in every thing, X 306 PRINCIPLES of taste: they are only great in size; but void of all grandeur of character. Even if they be drawn with so much skill and science, as to express fully and correctly this capacity ; but are put into action, in constrained or studied modes and postures ; or such, as the natural impulse of the occasion would not spontaneously excite, the expression becomes necessarily false and affected ; and, consequently, awakens no sym- pathy. We may, indeed, admire the skill and ingenuity of the artist ; and feel surprise at the novelty and singularity of his inventions ; but both our admiration and surprise will be of that kind, which is caused by the distortions of a tumbler, or the tricks of a mountebank. 51. Upon this principle, there has always appeared to me more of real grandeur and sublimity in Raphael's small picture of the Descent of God, or Vision of Ezekiel ; and in Salvator Rosa's of Saul and the Witch of Endor, than in all the vast and turgid compo- sitions of the Sistine chapel. Salvator, indeed, scarcely ever attempts grandeur of form, in the outlines of his figures ; but he as seldom misses, what is of much more importance in his art, grandeur of effect in the general composi- tion of his pictures. In the wildest flights of his wild imagination, he always exhibits just and natural action and expression ; of which the- 11 PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 307 picture above cited is a remarkable instance. chap. The visionary spectres in the back ground are 2 "J wild and fantastic in their forms, as such ficti- ment> tious beings might naturally be supposed to appear ; but the mixture of horror and frenzy in the witch, of awe and anxiety in the monarch, and of terror and astonishment in the soldiers, are expressed, both in their countenances and gestures, with all the truth and nice discrimi- nation of nature ; and with all the dignity and elevation of poetry. The general effect of the whole, too, is extremely grand and imposing j and it is this general effect that pre-engages the attention, and thus disposes the mind to sympathize with the parts. Those painters, who, in their zeal for the grand style, affect to despise what they are pleased to call tricks of light and shade, do, in reality, despise the most powerful means, which their art affords, of producing the effect, which they profess to aim at ; as will abundantly appear by the works of Titian, Pt-ubens, and Rembrandt ; who, without any pretensions to grandeur of form, or dignity or elevation of character or expression, have produced grander, and more imposing pic- tures *, than any of those, who have sought for * See the Peter Martyr of Titian, the Daniel in the Lions' Den of Rubens, the Raising of Lazarus and Cruci- fixion of Rembrandt, &c. X 2 308 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. grandeur in vast outlines and unusual pos- I1I# tures, ment. 52 * Titian's expression of character is always feeble ; Rubens's generally coarse ; and Rem- brandt's ridiculously low and mean, though admirably just and natural : conscious of his deficiency in anatomical science, and precision of outline, he cautiously avoided all objects that might lead him to attempt elegance of form, or grace and dignity of character ; at the same time that his sound judgment and accurate observation pointed out the true ex- pression of the temper and affections of the mind, both in the countenances and gestures of such figures, as were within his reach ; and his unrivalled skill in the use of colours en- abled him to exhibit it with a degree of exacti- tude and energy, which scarcely any other painter has ever attained. 53. The principles of excellence in painting are so distinct from those of sculpture, that the highly elevated character of general or ideal nature, so appropriate to the perfection of the latter, is, perhaps, scarcely compatible with that of the former ; which, being a more complete imitation of its objects, requires a stricter adherence to their individual peculi- arities. In sculpture, we have only the forms and lines of expression ; so that a statue is, in itself, but an abstract imitation ; and, conse- PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 309 quently, ^is employed to the greatest advantage in exhibiting abstract nature : but, in paint- ing, we have also the glow of animation ; and the hues, as well as lines, of passion and affec- tion; wherefore, as less is left to the imagi- nation, the tone of imitation must be brought down nearer to a level with the individual ob- jects, with which it will be compared, and by which it will consequently be judged. 54. In this respect, the difference between sculpture and painting is similar to that, which has been already remarked, between epic and dramatic poetry. In the picture and upon the stage, the imitation being immediately ad- dressed to the organ of sense, and entirely dependent on its evidence, requires in many cases, and admits in all, a stricter and more detailed adherence to the peculiarities of com- mon individual nature, than either of the sister arts will ever allow. Many of our most affect- ing tragedies are taken from the events of common life ; and, # in them, the personages appear upon the stage in the common dresses of the times — in laced coats, cocked hats, &c. ; but no beauty of verse nor felicity of descrip- tion coiild make us endure such things in epic narration. In the same manner, some of the most interesting and affecting pictures, that the art has ever produced, are taken from similar events, and treated in a similar style ; such as x 3 310 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: Mr. West's General Wolfe, Mr. Westall's Storm in Harvest, and Mr. Wright's Soldier's Tent ; in all of which the pathos is much im- proved, without the picturesque effect being at all injured, by the characters and dresses being taken from common familiar life. But, in sculpture, this could not be borne ; that art never having made any impression, or excited any sympathy by exhibiting common individual nature. Even in their portraits, the sculptors of the fine ages of Greece always took the liberty of enlarging the features, and invigo- rating the expression, of whatever kind it happened to be ; and if they employed dra- pery, it was always of that particular sort, which is peculiarly appropriated to the art, and which may therefore be properly called sculpturesque drapery. 55. Horace's advice of preferring the cha- racters and fictions of the Iliad to those of common nature or history, as the materials of tragedy, seems to me ve$y ill adapted to the principle of modern drama ; how well soever it may have suited the splendid musical exhi- bitions of the Greek theatre. The vast and exalted images, which are raised in the mind, by the pomp of heroic verse, and the amplifi- cation of heroic fiction, shrink into a degree of meanness, that becomes quite ridiculous, when PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 313 reduced to the standard of ordinary nature, and exhibited in the person of a modern actor. The impression, which the sight of Achilles, on the French stage, first made upon me will never be effaced : a more farcical and ludi- crous figure could scarcely present itself to my imagination, than a pert smart Frenchman, weil rouged, laced, curled, and powdered ; with the gait of a dancing master, and the accent of a milliner, attempting to personate that tremendous warrior, the nodding of whose crest dismayed armies ; and the sound of whose voice made even the war horse shudder. The generality of the audience, indeed, never having viewed the original through the dazzling and expansive medium of Homer's verses, thought only of the lover of Iphigenia ; and were, of course, as well satisfied with Mons. Achille, as with any other amorous hero, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage. In this, as in other instances, the habitual association of ideas makes the same object contemptibly ridiculous to one, and affectingly serious to another. In this country, however, the cha- racters of the Iliad and Odyssey have been so generally known since Pope's splendid trans- lation, that no tragedy has been popular, in which they have been introduced ; and, I believe, Thomson's Agamemnon is the only in- stance of their being brought upon the stage, X 4 312 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: 50. Horace drew his rules and instructions from the practice of the Greek theatre ; where the actors were so disguised by masks and co- thurni ; and the whole performance so much more remote from ordinary nature, than the modern drama, that incongruities of this kind were less prominent and offensive. The most eminent, too, of the Greek tragedians changed and perverted the characters of the Iliad and Odyssey, when they brought them upon the stage ; as appears from the Ulysses and Me- nelaus in the plays of Sophocles and Euripides, still extant ; which are gross caricatures of the same characters in the Homeric poems. It was probably, from some caricature of this kind, that Horace took the portrait of Achilles, which he recommends to dramatic writers * : for it is extremely unlike the hero of the Iliad ; who is, indeed, impiger, iracundus, acer; active, irascible, and eager : but so far from renouncing or denying any of the established rights and institutions of law, morality, or reli- gion, that he is a steady and zealous observer of all : — pious to his gods, dutiful to his pa- rents, hospitable and polite to his guests, kind ?md generous to his subjects, faithful and affecr " Si forte reponis Achillem : Jmpiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer, Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis." Ar. Poet. 120, PART II. ASSOCIATION" OF IDEAS. 1 S13 donate to his friends, and open, honourable, and sincere towards all. Neither is he an in- exorable enemy, till exasperated by the loss of the man most dear to him, and soured by despair and impending death. Despising his own life, as a frail and transitory possession of little value, while the pride of conscious supe- riority taught him to consider that of others, as of still less value, he becomes sanguinary through magnanimity, and gives an unbounded scope to his resentment from not thinking the objects of it worth sparing *. Considered in this point of view, the seeming incongruities in the characters of several of the mighty heroes and conquerors of real history become con- sistent and united. In their private and indi- vidual transactions, where their particular sym- pathies have been called forth, they have been mild, generous, and compassionate ; but, in dealing with mankind in the mass, they have considered human life in the abstract, as a delusive mockery of vain hopes and fears, which it was almost a matter of indifference, either to preserve or destroy. 57. Had the Achilles of the Iliad, or the Ulysses of the Odyssey been such as Horace has described the one, or Euripides exhibited * See his reply to the supplications of Lycaon, Jl. xxi, v. 99- $14 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: the other *, they would not have interested the untutored, but uncorruptcd feelings of an Ho- meric audience, how well soever they might have succeeded in the Attic theatre : for men, in the early stages of society, when manners are the general substitutes for laws, are scru- pulously observant of whatever custom or public opinion has established as a criterion of politeness or good breeding ; the principles of which, as before observed, are the same in all ages and all countries, howsoever the modes of showing them may vary. Hence neither the violent and atrocious passions of the first of these heroes, nor the wily artilice and versa- tility of the second, ever make either of them deviate from the character of a gentleman, even according to our present notions of that character, allowing always for the change of ex- terior forms or ceremonies of fashion. Though the one is impetuous, and the other temperate in his expressions of resentment ; both equally preserve the dignity of high pride and consci- ous superiority ; and both are invariably kind, civil, and attentive to all, whom the weakness of sex or age entitled to their protection or compassion. Any of that unfeeling rudeness, with which the Ulysses of Euripides rejects the supplications of the captive Hecuba for the life • In the Hecuba» PART II. ASSOCIATION OV IDEAS. 315 of her last remaining child ; or any of that selfish coldness, with which the iEneas of Virgil treats the unfortunate princess, whose affections he had seduced, would have so de- graded either of the Homeric heroes in the estimation of the simple but gallant warriors, to whom the poet sang, that all their subse- quent actions would have become uninterest- ing, as flowing from the polluted source of vulgar insolence or selfish meanness. Though we are now, perhaps, less fastidious than they were upon such points of morality, we still appear to be much more so than either the Athenians or Romans were at the respective periods of their highest degrees of civilization and refinement : for such a scene as that of Euripides, above alluded to, would not now be borne on any stage ; and every modern reader of the JEneid finds that the episode of Dido, though in itself the most exquisite piece of composition existing, weakens extremely the subsequent interest of the poem ; it being im- possible to sympathize either cordially or kindly with the fortunes or exertions of a hero who sneaks away from his high-minded and much injured benefactress in a manner so base and unmanly. When, too, we find him soon after imitating all the atrocities *, and surpassing ~* ^Encid. x. 520. 590, &rc, Sit) PRINCIPLES OF TASTE'. chap. the utmost arrogance of the furious and vindio IIX * tive Achilles *. without displaying any of his Of Judg- . ., i , ment. generosity, pride, or energy, he becomes at once mean and odious, and only excites scorn and indignation ; especially when, at the con- clusion, he presents to the unfortunate Lavinia a hand stained with the blood of her favoured lover, whom he had stabbed while begging for quarter, and after being rendered incapable of resistance j\ 5S. Indeed, I cannot but think, in spite of all that critics have said of the judgment of Virgil, as opposed to the invention of Homer, that, if there be any quality, in which the author of the Iliad stands pre-eminently supe- rior to all his followers or imitators, it is in that of judgment ; or a just sense of propriety in adapting actions to persons, and circum- stances to characters ; and modifying his fic- tions to the understandings and degrees of information of his audience ; so that they might appear wonderful, but not incredible. Virgil's great distinctive excellence is delicacy of sentiment and expression, joined to the most consummate technical skill and just feeling in dressing out and embellishing every circum- stance or incident, that he employs : but in the appropriation of those circumstances and • ^Lneid. x. 830. | ^neid. xii. 930, et seq. PART II. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 317 incidents, to persons and characters, he is chap. generally less happy than Tasso, and in no UI - decree whatever to be compared with him — f s " " cui nee viget quidquam simile aut secun- dum." [ 318 ) PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. CHAPTER I. OF THE SUBLIME AND PATHETIC. chap. i. The passions, considered either physi- Of the Su- ca ^y as belonging to the constitution of the blime and individual, or morally, as operating upon that of society, do not come within the scope of my present inquiry ; it being only by sympathy, that they are connected with subjects of taste ; or that they produce, in the mind, any of those tender feelings, which are called pathetic, or those exalted or enthusiastic sentiments, which are called sublime. When we see others suffer, we naturally suffer with them, though not in the same degrees ; nor even in the same modes : for those sufferings, which we should most dread personally to endure, we delight to see exhibited or represented, though not actu- ally endured by others ; and, nevertheless, this delight certainly arises from sympathy. 2. Of this kind is that, which we receive from tragedy, and from all pathetic or impas- sioned narratives ; the intrinsic truth or false- PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. S19 hood of which, as before observed, does not chap. matter, provided they have the semblance of l ' truth ; that is, provided the characters be con- hYl ^ c a "J sistent with themselves ; the incidents with the Pathetic. characters, and with each other ; and the ex- pressions of sentiment and passion such, as such incidents would naturally excite in such characters. 3. The great author, indeed, already so often cited, asserts that the nearer tragedy ap~ proaches the reality, and the further it removes us from all idea of fiction, the more perfect is its pozver ; and he has illustrated this position by an example stated with his usual brilliancy and eloquence. " Choose," says he, "a day to represent the most sublime and affecting tragedy we have ; appoint the most favourite actors ; spare no cost upon the scenes and decorations ; unite the greatest efforts of poetry, painting, and music ; and when you have collected your audience, just at the moment, when their minds are erect with expectation, let it be reported that a state criminal of high rank is on the point of being executed in an adjoining square, in a moment the emptiness of the theatre would demon- strate the comparative weakness of the imi- tative arts, and proclaim the triumph of real sympathy *." * Sublime and Beautiful, P. I. f. xv. 320 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. 4. This is unquestionably true : but is not l ' the triumph as much of curiosity, as of sym- Of the Su- . , ., . ., J J blime and pathy ; and would not the sudden appearance Pathetic of any very renowned foreign chief or poten- tate, in the adjoining square, equally empty the benches of the theatre ? I apprehend that it would ; and cannot but suspect that even a bottle conjuror, a flying witch, or any other miraculous phenomenon of the kind, being announced with sufficient confidence to obtain belief, would have the same effect : wherefore, to make the comparison between the exhibi- tions on the scaffold, and those on the stage, fairly, we must suppose them both to be equally frequent and common ; in which case, I cannot but hope, for the honour of human nature, that scenes of mimic distress would be more attractive, than those of real suffering. Happily, in this country, the execution of a state criminal of high rank, or indeed of any rank, has of late years been a rare event ; and one, which very few persons now living have ever witnessed. At the time too, when the above statement was made, such a spectacle would have been almost equally novel in any part of Europe : but we have since had abun- dant and lamentable proof, in the neighbour- ing country, of how much its interest declines with its becoming common : for during the latter days of the tyranny of Robespierre, the 2>ART III. OF THE PASSIOXS. S21 executions of pretended state criminals of every chap. rank, age, sex, and condition were scarcely '■ noticed, or attended by any but a hired rabble? blime "^ and that atrocious and despicable monster is Pathetic said to have procured the condemnation and execution of the nine young and beautiful girls, who presented a chaplet to the Prussian com- mander at Verdun, merely to rouse the wearied attention of the populace, by a more affecting exhibition *. 5. Let us Suppose that, during this period of juridical slaughter and methodical murder, all the theatres of Paris had been shut ; and all dramatic exhibitions suppressed for an in- definite time ; and that, at the latter end of it, when men had slipped full with horrors, and grown familiar with scenes of real distress, such a theatrical spectacle, as that above de- scribed, had been announced for one night only : then, I think that even the scaffold of Citizen Egalite himself would have been for- saken for the mimic sufferings of Andromaque or Zayre. 6. Much must, however, in all cases, depend upon the different degrees of sensibility of dif- ferent individuals. The feelings of some men are so tremblingly alive, that almost every degree of mimic distress interests them; and * Memoires d'un detenu. Y 3'1'2, PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*. chap. those of others so immoveably torpid, that scarcely any real sufferings, but their own, can of the Su- ~ \ J T ° ' ~ , ; blime and a »cct them. Large masses ot people taken Pathetic, collectively are, indeed, naturally composed of nearly the same materials : but, nevertheless, their natural feelings are greatly altered by education, government, and habit of life. The Romans, a nation of soldiers, hardened by the trade of war, delighted in seeing trained slaves contend for their lives with each other, and with wild beasts: but when the Asiatic monarch, who, by living among them, had acquired their taste, treated his subjects with such a spec- tacle, they, at first, turned away from it with expressions of horror and affright; but, never- theless, soon became reconciled to such diver- sions * ; as we also should, if they were once introduced amongst us : for the passions, as well as the senses, easily become vitiated ; and acquire a relish for higher stimulants. Cock- lighting is only a humbler species of the same diversion, as hunting is only a humbler species of war ; and a taste for the one would soon rise into a taste for the other. 7. Not that I mean to infer that men ever feel delight in seeing pain and agony, either suffered or inflicted : for, in these cases, it is not with the sufferings, but with the exertions * Liv. Hist, lib.xli. c. 20. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 323 of the combatants, that they sympathize: — chap. with the exhibitions of courage, dexterity, vi- *• gour, and address, which shone forth, in these blime and combats of life and death, more conspicuously i Pathetic. and energetically than they would have done, had the object of contention been less im- portant. As far as the sufferings of the wounded and dying combatants were felt by the spectators, their feelings were painful ; and, in the enervated minds of the Asiatics, these painful sympathies overpowered the others; while, in the obdurate breasts of the Romans, they scarcely made any impression at all. They only heard with indignation and contempt the shrieks of agony or groans of anguish ; but exulted in every triumph of skil- ful valour, and glowed with every display of unshaken fortitude. The one sympathized only with the weaknesses, and the other only with the energies of human nature displayed in these dreadful trials ; and consequently the sympathies of the one produced only humilia- tion and disgust ; and those of the others only exultation and delight. S. The Romans had a mime or dramatic dance, composed by Nsevius, in which ihe principal character, named Laureolus, alter displaying his courage and address in various enormities, was crucified upon the stage ; and, as this horrible catastrophe afforded the actor Sa-i PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*/ chap. opportunities of displaying great professional *• skill in exhibiting the pangs and agonies of so blime and crue l a death, supported by the desperate Pathetic, firmness of an obdurate criminal, it seems to have been a favourite entertainment among that ferocious and sanguinary people*. One of their tyrants, however, probably Domitian, conceiving, like the elegant author above cited, that what was so interesting and impressive in the imitation, must be so much more so in the reality, exhibited a real criminal actually nailed to, a cross, in the last act ; and, to show that there was no trick or counterfeit in it, had him, in that state, torn to pieces by wild beasts f , What was the effect of this high sea- soned specimen of the Sublime and Pathetic, we are not informed; but we may reasonably infer that it was not such as the grand ballet- master expected ; or we should have heard of its being repeated ; since many of his suc- cessors had a similar taste, and were equally free from all compunctious xisitings of nature^ that might obstruct the gratification of it. The populace, however, though they had no dislike to see men worried and torn to pieces by wild beasts, preferred seeing it in equal combat,' where the man and the beast were fairly op- * Sueton. in Calig. c.lvii. — Juvenal. Sat. viii. v. 187. f Martial. Epigr. lib. i. epigr. vii. PART III. OF THE PASSION'S. 325 Pathetic. posed to each other ; and created an interest, chap. not only by their dangers and sufferings, but 0f the gu _ by the feats of strength, courage, and dexte- blnue and rity, which they displayed in avoiding or inflict- ing them. 9. In the decline of the empire, when all the honourable pride of the republicans was extinct, and all tne sanguinary ferocity of their manners preserved, men of the highest rank, and even women, descended into the Arena, and personally entered the lists of these savage combats. By sympathizing with the triumphs of gladiators, and admiring their prowess, they naturally conceived a wish to participate in their glory : whence the same restlessness of vanity, which induced one man to stake his fortune at a gaming table, induced another to stake his life in the amphitheatre. Distinc- tion was the reward of success, equally looked to by both ; (for even avarice is but a modifi- cation of vanity) and the value of this reward is not estimated so much according to its real or imaginary importance, as in proportion to the risk to be encountered, and the agitation and anxiety to be endured in the acquisition of it : whence we perpetually see men, who are infected with the rage of gaming, risk all, that makes their lives comfortable and happy, to gain that, which, if acquired, could not make them, in the smallest degree, more com? y 5 3C6 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE : cha.p. for table or raore happy. Such was human l : nature in the forests of Germany, as well as in blime and tne palaces of Rome ; and such it continues to Paihetic. be still, in the wilds of America, as well as in the clubs and taverns of London and Paris. 10. It has been ingeniously supposed by a very excellent critic, and still more excellent dramatic writer, that the horrible rites, with which the North American savages sacrifice their captives, do not proceed so much from a spirit of cruelty or vengeance, as from a spirit of gaming : war being, with them, not merely a contest of active strength and courage, for national honour and superiority; but, like- wise, of passive fortitude and endurance, for the palm of individual firmness and energy of mind ; the dreadful trials of which, by enhanc- ing the risks, animate the zeal, and stimulate the anxiety of contention, in the mighty game, which is played between the hostile tribes*. The vengeance of savages, however, is always extremely atrocious and violent : for, as their social relations, and, consequently, the objects of their passions, are few, the whole force of the mind goes collectively with them to the points, to which they are directed. There is no doubt, too, that, in minds, sufficiently ob- durate to behold, without any painful emo- * See Preface to a Series of Plays on the Passions. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 327 tions, all the lingering agonies, to which, the chap. unhappy victims are subjected, the exertions j* of energy and fortitude, which are thus called blime and forth, excite interesting, and, consequently, Pathetic- pleasing sympathies ; and afford a spectacle of entertaining, and even grateful horror, to the savage tormentors, 11. Even in civilized societies, a sort of prurient fondness for attending the executions of criminals is often observable, which arises from the same principle : for men are not so perversely constituted by nature, as ever to feel delight in beholding the sufferings of those, who never injured them : but, nevertheless, they all feel delight in beholding exertions of energy ; and all feel curiosity to know in what modes or degrees, those exertions can be dis- played, under the awful circumstances of im- pending death. With those exertions they sympathize ; and, therefore, feel an interest not in proportion to the sufferings, but to the heroism and gallantry of the person executed ; unless in particular instances, where indigna- tion at the atrocity of the crime stifles every other sentiment. 12. When the stoic philosopher says that a great and virtuous man struggling with adver- sity is a spectacle, upon which the gods might look down with pleasure; it is not that he supposes the nature of the deity to be cruel, y 4 328 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. or to delight in scenes of anguish and distress; ^, !' o but because adversity and distress call forth Of the Su- , blime and those energies of the human mind, in which its Pathetic, superiority over all other terrcotridl beings seemed principally to consist; and of which the full exertion might render it an object worthy of the attention, and even of the admi- ration of higher orders of intelligences. 13. But, how much soever the calm ener- gies of virtue, called forth by exertions of pas- sive fortitude, may interest the philosophical and contemplative mind, its more active and violent efforts, displayed in feats of strength, courage, and dexterity; in the tumultuous battle, or deadly combat ; are always far more interesting to the vulgar. When the Abbe du Bos, therefore, asserts that the Romans, by prohibiting human sacrifices, indirectly con- demned their taste for the fights of gladiators, he confounds two things, winch are extremely different; and thence attributes to those san- guinary destroyers of mankind, an inconsis- tency, which only existed in his own ideas. A lover of cock-fighting would think it very strange to be told that he condemned his own taste for so heroic a diversion, by expressing a dislike to see cocks killed in a poulterer's yard; and the frequenters of bull-baiting in England, or of bull-feasts in Spain, would by no means allow that a butcher's slaughter- PART TIT. OF THE PASSIONS. ii2 a>^' t»j txo , Teurn> etyu t« iyrtptpvct. — S. 1. though Shakspeare's poetry rises far above blime and Otway's, the gallant and profligate impetuosity of Pierre ; and the various conflicting passions of his perfidious friend, are far more interesting and impressive, than the republican firmness of Cassius, or the philosophical benevolence of Brutus ; merely because they are more energetic: for it is with the general energy, and not with the particular passions, that we sympathize. Men fit to disturb the peace of all the world, and rule it when 'tis wildest, are the proper materials for tragedy ; since, how much soever we may dread, or abhor them in reality, we are always delighted with them in fiction. 40. The vindictive ferocity of Achilles has been thought to need some apology, even by the warmest admirers of the Iliad: but the poet, who had looked into the inmost recesses of the human mind, well knew that, had his hero been less ferocious, he must have been less energetic ; and, consequently, less interest- ing and impressive. To rouse the feelings of his audience — to exalt and melt them by turns, was his object ; and for that, he has shown as much taste and knowledge in the selection of his means, as genius and ability in the employ- ment of them. Achilles weeps, with all the ecstasy of woe, over his insulted honour, and a a 3 358 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. his slaughtered friend ; but meets his own h impending death with careless and haughty blime and indifference; and when struggling in the over- Pathetic.^ whelming torrents of the Scamander, only reproaches the Gods with not keeping their promise of an honourable and glorious termin- ation to his life. 41. In all the fictions, either of poetry or imitative art, there can be nothing truly pathe- tic, unless it be, at the same time, in some degree, sublime: for, though, in scenes of real distress, pity may so far overcome scorn, that we may weep for sufferings, that are feebly or pusillanimously borne ; yet, in fiction, scorn will always predominate, unless there be a dis- play of vigour, as well as tenderness and sen- sibility of mind. Fiction is known to be fiction, even while it interests us most; and it is the dignified elevation of the sentiments of the actors or sufferers, that separates the interest- ing, or the pathetic, from the disgusting, or the | ridiculous. 42. Scenes of extreme suffering, or hyper- bolical atrocity, which, in real life, excite only the shudder of horror, are viewed only with disgust in fiction ; whether it be in poetry, painting, or sculpture : for the mind is never deceived by such fictions; but always considers them as works of mere invention or imitation ; and, as they are necessarily associated with PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. S59 repulsive and horrible ideas, never gives them chap. that spontaneous attention, which alone can l ' . , . , . -ii • -i Of the Su- mduce it to sympathize with the energies, either blime and of active, or passive fortitude, displayed by the Pathetic, sufferer. Such are the martyrdoms of Spagno- let, the events in the play of Titus Andronicus, and in the latter part of the novel of the Monk. When really acted within the sphere of our knowledge, the pruriency of curiosity will seldom allow us to remain in ignorance even of the details of such events, how much soever we may wish them unknown, after the hideous images have begun to haunt our memories : but, when the poet or the artist presume to obtrude such images upon us gratuitously, as the means of exciting an extreme degree of sympathy, they have no longer any incentives to entice curiosity; and are consequently re- jected with scorn, aversion, or disgust. 43. No merely sellish sorrow or affliction, how justly and eloquently soever expressed, can ever be pathetic in fiction ; because it can never be, in any degree, sublime ; but must always exhibit more of the weaknesses than the energies of the mind. Hence tragedy, ,which, as Aristotle has observed, in a passage before cited, is conversant only in the higher ranks of human nature; and which, to be interesting, must always be, in some degree, sublime, never dares to bring forward any scenes of distress, A a 4 s6o PRINCIPLES of taste: chap. of which self is the motive ; while comedy (by v* which I mean comedy as opposed to tragedy, blime and tnat is> ludicrous comedy) which, as the same Pathetic, great author observes, is conversant only with the lower ranks ; and, consequently, seeks to please by the direct opposite of the sublime, never dares to bring forward any distress, which has any other motive than self: for distress, which has any other adequate motive, can never be ridiculous ; and distress, which is founded in that motive solely, must necessarily be either ridiculous, contemptible, or disgust- ing, when exhibited in fiction. 44. On the other hand, it is equally true that no kind of mimic distress can be interest- ing, the motives for which are entirely uncon- nected with self; because such distress must necessarily be extravagant and unnatural ; and therefore unfit for either tragedy or corned} 7 . A philanthropist ranting upon the calamities of a remote country, which he never saw ; or lamenting, in tragic pomp, the misfortunes of a foreign potentate, 'n horn he never knew, would only exhibit the disgusting image of an idiot or a maniac, which would not be tolerated on any stage. All our social arise out of our self- ish passions, and continue so far connected with them, that, in separation, the one verge towards mental insanity, and the other become utterly sordid and despicable. TART III. OF THE PASSIONS. S6l Milton has been censured for making the chap. devil too amiable and interesting a character ; ^ p \ „ , • , , . . Of the Su- but Milton could not have done otherwise, blime and without destroying all the interest of his poem: Pathetic for to have exhibited so principal an actor in the events, which he relates, without passions or affections, would have been dull and insipid; and to have given him only selfish passions would have been rendering him a character more fit for one of the scriptural farces, or sacred drolls of the middle ages, than for a most serious, and even solemn epic composi- tion. The passage, in which he appears most amiable, is perhaps the most striking and pathe- tic in the whole poem ; and as it occurs in the beginning of it, confers no small degree of in- terest upon what follows: his face Deep scars of thunder had entrench'd, and care Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride, Waiting revenge. Cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and passion to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, Far other once beheld in bliss, condemned For ever now to have their lot in pain : Millions of spirits, for his fault amerc'd Of Heaven, and from eternal splendors flung, For his revolt: yet faithful how they stood Their glory withered : as when Heaven's fire Hath scath'd the forest oaks or mountain pines, With singed top, their stately growth, though bare, S62 principles of taste: chap. Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepar'd *• To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend, Of the Su- From wing to wins;, and half enclose him round, blime and -itt.. n i • 1111 Pathetic. With all his peers : attention held them mute. Thrice he essay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn, Tears such as angels weep burst forth. Throughout the poem, the infernal excite more interest than the celestial personages, be- cause their passions and affections are more violent and energetic. 45. We often feel a sort of sympathy with our own past sufferings; which casts, over our minds, a grateful tinge of melancholy, not un- like that produced by the fictitious distress of tragedy or pathetic narrative. Hence, to de- light, or gratify oneself by indulging sorrow*, is an expression often employed by one of the greatest masters of human nature ; and one of the few general maxims or sentences, that he has left, is to the same effect f ; nor is there any person of common sensibility, who has not, at some moments of his life, felt the propriety of it. We love to retrace images of affliction, and scenes of distress; in which ourselves have borne a part; and of which the recollection fills the mind with sentiments, at once tender, and pleasing : but it is only from past affliction, that we feel this pleasure; and only from that kind of past affliction, under the pressure of f ■ ■ " ■ ' f«T« ycc% it xat ofoym rigirtrcct awg. — Od. O. 399» PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 363 which, we have felt and displayed sentiments chap. honourable to ourselves; the remembrance of f , . , , , -. i •! • i i Of the Su- which exalts and expands, while it melts and tHme and softens the mind. The pain arising from Pathetic^ wounds suffered in a battle, or grief for the loss of friends, who had fallen in it, might afterwards be remembered with sentiments of grateful, though melancholy reflection : but the sufferings of ignominious punishments, or the sorrows for the loss of accomplices con- demned for disgraceful crimes, do not, pro- bably, afford any pleasing materials for future recollections. The pleasures and pains of sympathy are therefore precisely the same, in their principle, when they relate to ourselves, as when they relate to others. 46. Every energetic exertion of great and commanding power ; whether of body or mind ; whether physical or moral ; or whether it be employed to preserve or destroy, will necessa- rily excite corresponding sympathies ; and, of course, appear sublime : but, in all moral or political power, the sublimity is in the mental or personal energy exerted, and not in the power possessed: for a person of the meanest character and capacity; a Claudius, a Nero, or a Vitellius, may possess the most unlimited power ; and yet be an object of contempt, even to those who are subject to it. A despot may command the actions of men, but cannot com- 364 PRINCIPLES of taste: chap. mand their sentiments or opinions: wherefore, l ' as Lonsinus observes, it is not the tyrant dif- Of the Su- . ■ , , . , ,. blime and fusing terror, whose character is sublime ; but Pathetic the man, whose exalted soul looks down upon empire, and scorns the transitory possessions, which it can bestow*. He displays real energy of mind; and, with that energy, we sympathize; in whatever manner, or to whatever end, it be exerted. The tyrant therefore may show it, as well as the philosopher ; and, in that case, the character of the tyrant will be sublime; but not to those, who are under the actual impres- sion of the terror, which he inspires : for it is as utterly impossible for a man at the same time, to sympathize with the effect and the cause, as it is for him to fill his cup, at the same time, from the mouth and the source of the river. Fear is the most humiliating and depressing of passions ; and, when a person is under its influence, it is as unnatural for him to join in any sentiments of exultation with that which inspires it, as it would be for a man to share in the triumph or the feast of the lion, of which he was himself the victim and the prey. 47. All sublime feelings are, according to the principles of Longinus, which I have here endeavoured to illustrate and confirm, feelings • S. vii. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 365 of exultation and expansion of the mind, tend- chap. . ins to rapture and enthusiasm; and whether K they be excited by sympathy with external ob- blime a °j jects, or arise from the internal operations of Pathetic, the mind, they are still of the same nature. In grasping at infinity, the mind exercises the powers, before noticed, of multiplying without end ; and, in so doing, it expands and exalts itself, by which means its feelings and senti- ments become sublime. The same effects result from contemplating all vast and immense objects ; such as very spacious plains, lakes, or forests ; extensive ranges of extremely high mountains ; mighty rivers ; unbounded seas ; and, above all, the endless expanse of unknown vacuity. 48. Upon a similar principle all works of great labour, expence, and magnificence are sublime; such as the wall of China; the co- lonnades of Palmyra ; the pyramids of Egypt ; the aqueducts of Rome ; and, in short, all buildings of very great dimensions, or objects of very great richness and splendor: for, in contemplating them, the mind applies the ideas of the greatness of exertion, necessary to pro- duce such works, to the works themselves ; and therefore feels them to be grand and sublime, as works of man; though, if compared with the works of nature, their dimensions may be small and contemptible. Great wealth, too, is 366 PRINCIPLES of taste: chap. so nearly allied to great power, that the con- h templation of its splendor equally exalts and Llime and ex P an ds the imagination. Phidias's colossal Pathetic statue of Jupiter in ivory and gold might have been equally well executed in plaster gilt ; but its effect upon the spectators would have been very different, as the priests and hierophants of Elis well knew. Every person, who has attend- ed the celebration of high mass at any consi- derable ecclesiastical establishment, must have felt how much the splendor and magnificence of the Roman catholic worship tends to exalt the spirit of devotion, and to inspire the soul with rapture and enthusiasm. Not only the impressive melody of the vocal and instru- mental music, and the imposing solemnity of the ceremonies, but the pomp and brilliancy of the sacerdotal garments, and the rich and costly decorations of the altar, raise the cha- racter of religion, and give it an air of dignity and majesty unknown to any of the reformed churches. Even in dramatic exhibitions, we find that splendid dress, rich scenery, and pompous ceremony are absolutely necessary to support the dignity of tragedy ; and, indeed, such is their effect, that they often serve as an universal substitute, and compensate for the want of every other merit. 49. Darkness, vacuity, silence, and all other absolute privations of the same kind, may also PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 367 be sublime by partaking of infinity ; which is CHAP . equally a privation or negative existence : for I; infinity is that which is without bounds, as b j imfe a] JJJ darkness is that which is without light, vacuity Pathetic, that which is without substance, and silence that which is without sound. In contemplating each, the mind expands itself in the same man ner; and, in expanding itself, will of course conceive grand and sublime ideas, if the ima- gination be in any degree susceptible of gran- deur or sublimity. 50. All the great and terrible convulsions of nature ; such as storms, tempests, hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanos, &c. excite sublime ideas, and impress sublime sentiments by the prodi- gious exertions of energy and power, which they seem to display : for, though these objects are, in their nature, terrible, and generally known to be so, it is not this attribute of terror that contributes, in the smallest degree, to ren- der them sublime. 51. As far as feeling or sentiment is con- cerned, and it is of feeling or sentiment only that we are speaking, that alone is terrible, which impresses some degree of fear. I may know an object to be terrible ; that is, I may know it to possess the power of hurting or de- stroying: but this is knowledge, and not feeling or sentiment ; and the object of that knowledge is power, and not terror ; so that, if any sym- 368 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. pathy results from it, it must be a sympathy i- with power only. That alone is actually ter- Of the Su- .., r f. . „ . J . , blime and ri "le to me » which actually impresses me with Pathetic, fear : for, though I may know it to be danger- ous, when I am beyond its reach, I cannot feel that sentiment, which danger inspires, till I either am, or imagine myself to be, within it; and all agree that the effect of the sublime upon the mind is a sentiment of feeling, and not a result of science. 52. There is no image in poetry wrought up with more true sublimity and grandeur than the following of Virgil; but that it should be quoted as an instance of terror being the cause of the sublime is to me most unaccountable. Ipse pater, media nimborum in nocte,corusca Fulmina molitur dextra : quo maxima motu Terra tremit, fugere ferae, et mortalia corda Per gentes humilis stravil pavor ■■ * If sublimity is here in any degree the result of terror, the poet must have very ill under- stood the effect of his own imagery : for he expressly tells us that the effect of this dreadful explosion of thunder and lightning, upon those who felt it, was humble fear ; and surely he could not, by humble fear, mean any sublime sentiment. The description, indeed, impresses us with such sentiments, because we sympathize * Georg. I. 328. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 369 with the vast and energetic power displayed, chap. and feel no terror whatsoever : but those who I# witnessed the reality and did feel terror, felt jjlj me an( J the effects of it, as the poet has stated them to Pathetic be, humble and depressive, instead of elevating and expansive. 53. The principle features of this sublime image are taken from one, at least as sublime, and far more spirited, of Lucretius : quoi non conrepunt membra pavore, Fulminis horribili quum plaga, torrida tellus Contremit, et magnum percurrunt murmura caelum ? Non populi gentesque tremunt ? regesque superbi Conripiunt divom perculsi membra timo/e # ? Here the effect described is the same ; abject fear and superstition, which are the direct re- verse of the enthusiastic exultation of sublime sentiments. 54. It is true that both superstition and reli- gious enthusiasm arise from excess of relig-ious reverence : but, nevertheless, their principles, as well as their effects, in the human mind, are totally different, and even adverse to each other ; the one proceeding from excessive fear, and the other from excessive confidence. The superstitious man sees, in his God, a severe and relentless judge ; before whom he shrinks and trembles : the enthusiast sees a beneficent * Lib. V. 1218. B B 370 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*. chap. patron and protector ; by whose favour he is ~„ T " „ preserved and exalted : the one imagines him* Of the Su- * _ 1 , . . . ° . . . . . blime and self the oojcct ot perpetual anger, which it is Pathetic. t | ie business of his life to avert or propitiate: the other conceives himself to be the object of special love and regard j the exhilarating idea of which expands and invigorates every faculty of his soul, and causes him to mistake its im- proved energies for supernatural inspirations. 55. A similar difference of feeling in different minds manifests itsslf in the contemplation of the ordinary appearances and events of nature. Hunc solem, et Stellas, et decedentia certis Tempora momentis, sunt qui formidine nulla Imbuti spectant ; * There are some men whom the actual sense of danger does not impress with fear ; and who can, therefore, enjoy the awful sublimity of a storm at sea, even when the vessel, in which they sail, is in immediate peril of being wrecked : but to such persons the storm is not terrible ; and the moment that it becomes so ; that is, the moment when they feel the actual pressure of fear, all sympathy with the cause that produces it, and, consequently, all relish for the sublimity of it, is at an end. Those, who are actually frightened, if they give way to their feelings, and are not restrained by shame, avoid the very * Horat. Epist. I. vi. 3. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 37 1 appearance of it ; as we see timid women do chap. on shore ; who fly to a cellar, or a darkened . ,* • i i 7 7- re r i i Of the Su- room, to avoid the sublime effects ot a thunder blime and storm ; because to them they are not sublime t Pathetic. but terrible. To those only are they sublime qui formidine nulla imbuti spectant, who be- hold them without any fear at all ; and to whom, therefore, they are in no degree terrible. 56. Plague, pestilence, famine, discord, &c. are only sublime in the personifications of poetry ; when the destructive energy of a gene- ral cause is presented collectively to the mind ; which thus sympathizes with that energy ; although its natural effects may be any thing but sublime : for, I believe, no one ever felt any sublimity in being diseased, starved, or beaten ; or in feeling himself apprehensive of such calamities : nor do I conceive that he would present a very sublime image to any one else, when actually suffering them. Even in the inanimate objects of nature, if a general character of barrenness pervade the whole, even of the grandest scenery — if every plant seem starved and sickly, and every tree stunted and withered, the effects of meanness and poverty so far overbalance those of their oppo- sites, that no sooner is the first impression of surprise passed, than we begin to find more matter of disgust than delight in the prospect. Weakness is always nearly allied to meanness in b b 2 572 PRINCIPLES OF taste: chap. vegetable, as well as animal productions ; so ^ r I " that scenery of this kind, to be really sublime, Of the Su- , u, , mi 11,1 -i blime and should be, not only wild and broken, but rich Pathetic, and fertile ; such as that of Salvator Rosa, whose ruined stems of gigantic trees proclaim at once the vigour of the vegetation, that has produced them, and of the tempests, that have shivered and broken them. There is also a sort of com- fort and satisfaction felt in beholding every production around us strong and luxuriant ; which, though it arise from sympathies of an- other class, is of no less importance in render- ing the scenery pleasing. 57. The character of Achilles is, perhaps, the most sublime and the most terrific, that ever the boldness of poetical fiction dared to deli- neate : but, nevertheless, the terror and subli- mity of it could never have been felt together. To the Trojans he was only terrible : to us he is only sublime ; as we only sympathize with those prodigious energies of mind and body, which made him terrible to them. The grand- est display of his terrific appearance is, when he approaches the walls of Troy ; and the most spirited expression of his lofty and sublime sentiments is, perhaps, in his address to the prostrate Lycaon ; yet neither the venerable Priam, nor his suppliant son, express any of that enthusiastic rapture, which sublimity inspires; but, on the contrary, both seem PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 373 impressed with all the dejection of the most chap. humiliating fear. ~ c '. ' ,, .__„.. , Of the Su- 58. My friend Mr. Price has quoted expres- blime and sions in different languages, from the (poQegcv and Pathetic. Suvov of Aristotle and Longinus, down to the terrible high-bred cattle of the Newmarket hawkers, to prove that terrible frequently signifies sublime : or at least excellent and striking * ; and I could have supplied him with another, perhaps still more in point, from a Greek naturalist, who says that a rabbit's head is Suvus oaroi^aog, terribly lean. He might also have heard, among the Newmarket hawk- ers, of terrible jockeys, as well as of terrible horses ; and concluded, according to his sys- tem, and the natural consistency of language, that such jockeys mast be excellent, or even sublime riders: but just the contrary : terrible here means extremely bad — quite despicable f . Among the same masters of language, he might also have heard of the weather being devilish hot, or devilish cold; and of some persons being damned clever, and others damned stupid ; from which, I think, had his mind been quite free from the theories of the Sublime and Beautiful, he would have concluded, that all such expressions have nothing to do with * Essay on the Picturesque, vol. i. p. 112, note; 2d ed. f So Hippocrates says u.^wu.yu-n hiv*> 7 terrible impotence^ qr weakness, m^ «^. »«T£i*. f. six. BBS 374 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. either; but that men, in the laxity of colloquial _ ■• speech, seize upon some impressive word, and Of the Su- L . ' r l . ' blime and use lt; as an augmentative, or superlative; or, Pathetic .^ perhaps, merely for the sake of emphasis, without any regard to its strict meaning or etymology. For this purpose words and objects of terror would naturally be adopted : for no- thing is so impressive as fear; although the impression, which it makes, is invariably the opposite of sublime. 59. This notion of pain and terror being the cause of the sublime, appears, indeed, to me, to be, in every respect, so strange and unphilo- sophical, that were it not for the great name, under which it has been imposed on the world, I should feel shame in seriously controverting it. But, when I consider the deserved autho- rity of that name, and the influence, which it has had, in spreading this notion, with the practical bad taste, that has resulted from it, I am rather apprehensive of not controverting it effectually. I admit, however, that this influ- ence has principally' appeared among artists, and other persons not much conversant with philosophical inquiries : for, except my friend before mentioned, I have never met with any man of learning, by whom the philosophy of the Inquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful was not as much despised and ridiculed, as the brilliancy and animation of its style were ap- plauded, and admired. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 375 60. It is, indeed, no easy matter to under- chap. stand this philosophy, so far as relates to the ?• ir i • i • c \ * ^ a * a r Of the Su- sublime ; which is first stated to proceed jroni ^lime and whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the Pathetic. ideas of pain and danger ; that is to say, what- ever is in any sort terrible, or conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror *. But, nevertheless, as the author immediately adds, when danger or pain press too nearly, they are incapable of giving any delight, and are simply terrible ; but at certain distances, and with certain mo- difications, they may be, and they are delight- ful, as we every day experience. 61. It were to be wished that the author had informed us, what these particular delights are, which danger and pain every day afford us ; and at what specific distances, or under what particular modifications, they do afford them : for, in the common acceptation of these words, danger means the probability of evil, and pain the actual sensation of it ; and how the sense or feeling either of the probability of the evil, or of the evil itself, can exist anv where but in * P. I. f. vii. "When so clear and acute a writer, as Mr. Burke gene- rally is, gives so indistinct and unphilosophical a defi- nition, we may be assured that he had entangled himself in his own subtilties, and was more anxious to conceal his perplexity than explain his meaning. B B 4 376 PRINCIPLES of taste: chap. the mind, no common understanding can con- '■ ceive ; and, indeed, the author himself does Of the Su- .... . , blime and not > ln his subsequent arguments, consider Pathetic them as existing any where else ; and, as he speaks of sensations being moderated in de- scription, and so rendered sublime *', we may reasonably suppose that he here confounded distance and degree ; a stout instance of con- fusion even with every allowance that can be made for the ardour of youth in an Hibernian philosopher of five and twenty. Certain degrees, however, would have an- swered his purpose no better : for be the degree of danger ever so small ; that is, be the evil apprehended, or the probability of its happen- ing ever so slight, the sentiment excited by it must be equally fear : since, if it do not ex- cite some degree of fear, the sense of danger, as it is called, is mere perception or knowledge, not either a sentiment, sensation, or passion. Aristotle defines fear to be mental pain or trouble, arising from an idea of future evil, either destructive or afflictive j" ; and if this definition be just, as it has hitherto been held to be, the differences in its degrees cannot any- wise change the mode of its existence, nor alter the nature, though they may lessen the effect * P. II. f. xxi. ■n 90 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE.* chap. addresses itself principally to the senses and *' imagination, its objects are chiefly beauties; if the Su- ... .•, . . . blime and while poetry, addressing itself wholly to the Pathetic, imagination and the passions, seeks chiefly for energies. 79. All the expressions of painting and sculp- ture being fixed and stationary, and limited to exterior form, the influence of these arts upon the passions is, as before observed, very feeble, compared with that of poetry ; whose images have all the motion and activity of animated nature. The lines of Horace therefore, Segnius irritant amnios dernissa per aures, Quam quae sunt oeulis subjecta fidelibus, are not true, if applied to painting in opposi- tion to poetry, as some eminent authors have applied them* : but Horace is not speaking of painting or sculpture ; but of dramatic poetry; and of narration in dramatic poetry opposed to representation ; in which sense his observa- tion is perfectly just: for we undoubtedly sym- pathize more with the exterior expressions of passion, when we see them well represented, than when we hear them described; though, in the description, the images may be more grand, and the energies more vigorous and powerful ; because the expansion of the imagi- nation is not then limited and controlled by * The Abbe du Bos, and Mr. Burke. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 391 the evidence of the senses, as it is in the exhi- chap. bition upon the stage. *• 80. Nothing can, therefore, be more remote b i ime a " d ' from truth, than what the author of the Inquiry Pathetic. into the Sublime and Beautiful states of ob- jects, or the qualities of objects, being rendered sublime, by being moderated in description * : for it is by being elevated and expanded in description that they are rendered sublime; and the peculiar business of poetry is so to elevate and expand them, that the imagination may conceive distinct, but not determinate ideas of them ; and thus have an indefinite liberty of still exalting and expanding, without changing or confounding the images impressed upon it. Si. Further than this, all obscurity is imper- fection ; and, indeed, if obscurity means indis- tinctness, it is always imperfection. The more distinct a description ; and the more clearly the qualities, properties, and energies, intended to be signified or expressed, are brought, as it were, before the eyes, the more effect it will have on the imagination and the passions : but then, it should be distinct without being deter- minate. In describing, for instance, a storm at ■sea, the rolling, the curling, the foaming, the dashing and roaring; of the waves cannot be « P. II. f. xxi. C C 4 !92 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. too clearly, too precisely, or too exactly ex- *• pressed: but it should not be told how many blime and y ar ds * n a minute they advanced, how many Pathetic, feet they rose, or with what precise weight or momentum they descended. These are points, which should always be left to the imagination ; and though the imagination will not fix any precise bounds to its conceptions, it will always expand them to the utmost verge of probability, provided there be sufficient spirit in the style of the poetry to raise the mind to a tone of enthusiasm. 82. Critics have been led into the notion that imagery is rendered sublime by being indistinct and obscure, by mistaking energies for images, and looking for pictures where powers only were meant to be expressed. Of this, kind is Virgil's description of the materials employed by the Cyclops in forming the thunder- bolts of Jupiter — Ties imbris torti radios, tres nubis aquosaa Addiderant; rutili tres ignis, et alitis Ausiri : Fulgores nunc terrificos, sonitumque metumque Miscebant operi, flammisque sequacibus has— which all men feel to be extremely sublime ; at the same time that they are obliged to own that no chimera of a madman ever presented a more incoherent subject for a picture than three rays of twisted showers, three of watery clouds, three of red fire, and three of winged south winds - } PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 393 with terrific lightnings, sound, fear, anger, chap. and pursuing flames mixed up in the work*. nr ]' m 1 a J r . Of the Su- But the poet never meant to produce a picture; blime and but merely to express, in the enthusiastic Ian- Pathetic guage of poetry, which gives corporeal form and local existence to every thing, those ener- getic powers, which operate in this dreadful engine of divine wrath. The materials of the girdle of Venus are still more remote from any thing like visible imagery : Tra^tpacrtg vt ehKi-^z voov ttuku Trep Low on his funeral couch he lies ! No pitying heart, no eye, afford A tear to grace his obsequies. Is the sable warrior fled ? Thy son is gone. He rests among the dead. The swarm, that in thy noontide beam were born ? Gone to salute the rising morn. Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While, proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm ; D D 402 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE*. chap. Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, i* That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey. Of the Su- pill high t he sparkling bowl, blime and rp, . , . Pathetic. The rich re P ast prepare, ; Reft of a crown, he still may share the feast : Close by the regal chair Fell Thirst and Famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest, &c. This is in Pindar's best manner ; but surely here is no confusion, indistinctness, or obscurity of imagery ; but only bold metaphors, strong contrasts, and abrupt transitions from triumph to dejection, from mourning to gaiety, and from festivity to famine ; to which sudden and vio- lent oppositions, the brilliancy of the effect in the whole is, in a great measure, owing. 89. The imagery of Milton, as before ob- served, is often confused and obscure ; and so far it is faulty : but, nevertheless, I can find neither confusion nor obscurity in the passage, which has been so confidently quoted as an instance of both *. He above the rest, In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tower : his form had yet not lost All its original brightness, nor appear'd Less than Archangel ruin'd, and th' excess Of glory obscured : as when the sun new riseiv * Sublime and Beautiful, P. II. (. iv. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 403 Looks through the horizontal misty air chap. Shorn of his beams ; or, from behind the moon, i. In dun eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds Of the Su- On half the nations; and, with fear of change, p Perplexes monarchs. The firmness of the devil's station or posture is here compared to that of a tower ; and his faded or diminished splendour to that of the sun seen through a morning haze, or from behind the moon during an eclipse ; all which is perfectly clear ; the objects of comparison being at once grand and illustrative ; and the description of them, as far as they are described, distinct, correct, and circumstantial. The properties of solidity and firmness only, in the tower, being the objects of comparison, to have described its form or magnitude would have been silly and impertinent : but the diminution of brightness is an occasional effect ; and when an occasional effect is made the object of poetical comparison or description, it is always necessary to state its causes and circumstances ; which the poet has here done with equal con- ciseness, precision, perspicuity, and energy ; and it is to this that its sublimity is, in a great degree, owing. 90. The imagery in the description of the allegorical personage of death by the same great author must, however, be admitted to be indis- D D 2 404 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. tinct, confused, and obscure; and, by being so, '• loses much of its sublimity : Of the Su- J blime and the other shape, If shape it might be calCd, that shape had none, is a confused play of words in Milton's worst manner ; and Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, are comparisons that mean nothing; as we know still less of the fierceness of furies or terrors of hell, than we do of those of death ; and fierceness is a mental energy, and not a positive quality, that can be measured by a scale of number. Ten furies may have col- lectively more strength than one; because the mechanic strength of many individuals may be concentered into one act or exertion ; but this is not the case with fierceness. 91. The blind admiration, with which the mass of mankind read works of established reputation, precludes all discrimination, whe- ther 6f judgment or feeling. Not to be de- lighted with what they have always heard, in general terms, is fine, might argue a want of capacity to comprehend, or a want of taste to relish its merits ; to avoid the imputation of which, they applaud without reserve ; and con- clude that every peculiarity, which they meet with, is a peculiarity of excellence, whether they understand it or not. Upon this principle, PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 405 there is scarcely any anomaly of grammar in chap. Shakspeare, or of metre in Milton, that has " *' • C J P- J ■•*••«.' •■ A 0f the SU ' not found even professed critics to praise and blhue and commend it as a beauty : for they do not reflect, Pathetic, that if it be a beauty, it is of that sort which any writer may easily display ; and which all good writers are anxious to avoid. 9'z. Of the same kind, is the sublime, which they have imagined to arise out of vastness of dimensions and unlimited greatness of size. It is of that description, which every grovelling imagination may reach, without any other effort, than that of multiplication *. The Ghost striding from hill to hill in Ossian ; or the giant in Claudian, lifting a mountain on his shoul- ders, whilst a river runs down his back, are images as vast and as incomprehensible as any critic of this school can desire ; but for that very reason they are not sublime : for the pas- sions can sympathize with no images, that the imagination does not comprehend distinctly. They may sympathize, indeed, with mental energies to any extent : for in them, neither the evidence of sense, nor the deductions of analogy can set any boundaries to physical probability ; 11 vitio male judicantium, qui majorem habere vim credunt ea quae non habent artem evenit nonnunquam ut aliquid grande inveniat, qui semper quaerit quod nimium est." Quintilian, Inst. 1. ii. c. xii. D D 3 406 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. whence he, qui nihil molitur inepte, does not *• say that the Aloidae actually did pile mountains Of the Su- . , , , . , blime and u P°n mountains; but only that they aimed at Pathetic, it, and might perhaps have done it, had they not been cut off' by a premature death, before they arrived at their full growth : Oaaav ett' Ou^vfJ.7rci> /xtfiacrav Sf/wev, auTag ett Oar]£>)£ pETgOV tXOVTO *. * Odyss. x. '3!4. The authenticity of these lines ap-. pears to have been questioned by some of the ancient critics ; Eustath. p. 1687 : and Aristarchus and others rejected all the latter part of this book, containing the Visions of the Punishments of Hell, from v. 567 to 626 inclusive ; not on account of any faults or defects in the poetry, which is most exquisite ; but on account of the difficulty of reconciling it to the simple evocation of the dead, related in the preceding part. See St hoJ. in Pin- dar. 01. i. v. 91 ; and Schol. ined. in Odyss. v. 567, cited in a note to v. 5 of the Orestes of Euripides, published in London A. D. 1798. This difficulty, it must be owned, is a serious one, and if the whole passage be left out, the succeeding line con- liects itself with the preceding one perfectly well. The three lines too, relating to the deification of Hercules, are manifestly spurious ; the deification of that hero, being unknown to the writer or writers of the Iliad and Odyssey, as was likewise that of Bacchus ; the lines re- lating to him in the Iliad being manifestly spurious. The above-mentioned three lines appear, however, to have been manifeitly inserted into the text of the passage ; for the placing Hercules among the souls of the defunct plainly PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 407 93. So apprehensive, indeed, was he, that chap. this daring hyperbole might lead the imagina- _ ** . Of the Su« tion to grasp at any unlimited or incompre- b i ime anc j hensible image, that in this instance only, and Pathetic that of the giant Tityos, he has descended to the particulars of number and quantity, and given their determinate measurements : vvvtuqoi yccg rotye km vjvza.7ir\yjiz<; ncrav ftffoj, arocf nmo$ ye yzvza§Y\v evvzogyvioi. proves that he was not then held to be a god ; and the idea of his being a mere image or aSuXov, different from the other shades, is contradicted by his subsequent address to Ulysses, in which he likewise speaks of himself as a mere man, whose life had been laborious and unfortunate. The very learned author, too, of the note to Euripides above cited, is mis.aken when he says that the punish- ments of Tantalus, mentioned in this passage, appear to have been unknown to Pindar; for he has distinctly al- luded to them ; stating the suspension of the stone over his head to be ^troc r^av TerapTov novoi — a fourth punishment after the three suffered before ; which three are the &4' 8 s» xcti At/«)f, x.«» araa-ts iv T^pvn mentioned in the Odyssey. I am aware that de Pauw altered tet^toi/ to TETagro? ; and reC-rs it to Tantalus, as being the fourth person punished after Sisyphus, Tityos and Ixion ; but though another German editor has inserted this strange depravation into his text, I can scarcely believe that the very learned Greek professor of Cambridge could swallow it. Still less can I believe that he would be satisfied with Heyne's interpretation, that jxtrx t^uv rcrec^Tot nuans indefinitely P D 4 408 PRINCIPLES or taste: chap. Virgil has perhaps hurt the effect by making *' them actually engage in the mighty attempt blime aud instead of merely designing or aiming at it — lc \ Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam Scilicet, atque Ossa± frondosum involvere Olympum : Ter Pater extructos disjecit fulmiae montes— - and Claudian has quite spoiled it by making his giants complete the attempt, in which he has been followed by Milton in his battle of the angels ; a part of the Paradise Lost, which has been more admired, than, I think, it de- serves. 94. I do not mean, however, to deny that vastness may be a mean of exciting sublime sentiments ; but then it. is upon the principle of indefinite extension before explainea ; which cannot therefore extend to those images, which are merely exaggerated human forms, distinct and definite in their nature ; and incapable of acquiring grandeur of character from increase of dimensions. No reader ever discovered or imagined any thing sublime in Swift's Brobdig- nagians. 95. The influence of music upon the passions is much less than that of poetry ; but more than that of painting or sculpture : for, though inar- ticulate sounds convey no distinct images, or ideas, to {he mind, certain modulations of tone naturally awaken correspondent sympathies ; PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 409 and certain combinations of it excite certain chap. trains of ideas, by means of habitual associa- x * tion ; which, if of a kind to affect the passions, blime aud will affect them, when excited by these means, Pathetic.^ as well as when excited by any others. All the marvellous stories, however, told by the an- cients of the power of music over the soul, relate to the powers of music and poetry united ; and, as we hear of no persons among them, rendered eminent by mere musical com- position ; or who even professed the art of composing, we may conclude that the music was only of a secondary degree of importance ; and employed merely to give more effect to the sentiments, imagery, and expressions of the poet. The contrary is the case with almost all modern music ; the complicated melody of which overwhelms and buries the sense of the words ; so that poetry without music has now a much greater degree of influence upon the passions, than with it ; as must be evident to every person, who frequents the theatres ; where even a moderate tragedy, moderately acted, has manifestly a much greater effect on the feelings of the audience, than even the finest serious opera, performed by the first musicians of Europe, both vocal and instrumental. Even the dumb show of a pantomime dance seems, in our theatres, to excite more sympathy, and to attract more fixed attention than the highest 410 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. efforts of music can ; and perhaps it has really i. more influence on the passions : for, when well Of the Su- . „ . . . o blime and acted, it unites all the various expression of Pathetic^ countenance, attitude, and gesture, which can be given by painting and sculpture ; and adds to them the impressive embellishments of mo- tion, animation, and succession. Music often weakens the effect of such expression by too great a display of technical skill ; than which, nothing can be more adverse to the success of whatever appeals to the passions. 96. Whether the story, which has afforded Dryden so happy a subject for the display of his great talents ; or any other of the marvel- lous tales of the same kind, told by the Greeks, have any foundation in truth ; or whether all are not to be held in the same estimation as that of Arion and the Dolphin, is a question, which I shall not pretend to discuss : but, nevertheless, I cannot but observe that, if any such effects ever were produced, we might rea- sonably have expected to hear of them in the Greek theatre ; where the most perfect com- binations of music and poetry continually ex- erted their united powers upon collective mul- titudes, whose genuine feelings would necessarily show themselves, free from all affectation or restraint. No such miraculous effects are, however, any where recorded ; nor does it appear that the Greek tragedies, which were PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 411 all operas, had, in representation, any degree chap. of influence upon the passions, at all com- I# , / . ^ . ' , Of the Su- parable to that, which we continually see pro- blime and duced by those of Shakspeare, Otway, and Pathetic. Row r e. It is probable, therefore, that the respective powers of music and poetry in ex- citing sympathy, whether considered jointly or separately, were always nearly the same as they are now ; and that, though a pathetic air and expressive accompaniment might have heightened the effect of a lyric composition, yet a good rhapsodist w r ould have made a greater impression upon the passions of his audience by reciting a book of the Iliad, than the first musicians of Greece could have done by singing a choral ode of Sophocles. 9?. The verses of Homer, indeed, appear to have been originally accompanied by music; though of so rude and artless a kind, that we should now scarcely think it deserving of the name. The tpogpiyZ or lyre, which consisted of four linen strings drawn over a wooden box, or the shell of a tortoise, could only have served to mark the pauses and cadences in the sort of chant, which was then called singing ; and we accordingly find, that, though the fine voice of the bard is often celebrated, his skill or taste in touching his instrument is never once noticed; which w 7 e can only account for by supposing it to have been so imperfect as not to admit of either. 412 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE. CHAP. I. 98. As for those fanciful theorists, who would persuade us that musick has such despotic and Of the Su- . r . blime and universal influence over the soul, that all its Pathetic, passions and affections vibrate as regularly to the strings of an instrument tuned in unison with them, as those strings do to the stroke of the bow or touch of the finger *, it will be suf- ficient to refer them to the story of Dr. Corne- lius Scriblerus and his lyre f, which may serve as an explanatory comment to all the mira- culous tales, upon which such theories have been founded. Without pretending to have such exalted notions of human nature, as either the Stoics of old, or the Philanthropists of modern times, have professed to entertain, we may at least presume that man, even in his most de- graded state, is something better than the coun- terpart of a fiddle. * Webb on Poetry and Music ; and Kircher quoted by bim. ■f History of Martinus Scriblerus. L 413 ] CHAPTER II. OF THE RIDICULOUS. j. Diametrically opposite to the su- chap. blime and pathetic is the ridiculous : for laugh- ' "* ... r . . . ° Of the Ridi- ter is an expression of joy and exultation; culous. which arises not from sympathy but triumph ; and which seems therefore to have its principle in malignity. Those vices, which are not suf- ficiently baneful and destructive to excite de- testation ; and those frailties and errors, which are not sufficiently serious and calamitous to excite pity, are generally such as excite laugh- ter * : an involuntary convulsion communicated, in some unaccountable manner, from the mind to the features of the face, and the organs of respiration ; which seems to be peculiar to * T*» tua%(>ii « t •vt« kbh i7n r 9vhomoy. — Login, f. xxxviii. 414 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. mankind ; or, at least, to be only participated "* in a degree by some tribes of monkeys. iftheRidi- „ 6 J , ,. . . J culous. 2 * Hence, as tragedy displays its powers in heightening and embellishing the general ener- gies of human nature, so does comedy in expos- ing and exaggerating its particular weaknesses and defects. The one exhibits only the genuine feelings and sentiments of nature, expressed in the glowing language of enthusiasm ; while the other shows these feelings and sentiments weak- ened by the restraints, perverted by the habits, and modified by the rules of artificial society ; and expressed in the language appropriated to it by the artificial manners of particular ages and countries. The one delights in unity and simplicity of character, such as all character is when under the dominion of enthusiastic pas- sion : but the other often produces its happiest effects by assembling and uniting those incon- gruities and inconsistencies, which, though nei- ther incompatible nor unnatural, exhibit in their junction a perversion or degradation of the natural character of man : such as boasting and cowardice, ignorance and pedantry, dulness and conceit, rudeness and foppery ; with all the other heterogeneous combinations of impotent vanity, which generally affects excellence in that, which is most above its reach, because it is that, which it is most prone to admire. 11 FAftT III. OF THE PASSIONS. 415 3. The jealousy of Othello, and the ambition chap. of Lady Macbeth, are those passions operating 1T - , r u- i u *• ^OftheRidi- as the poet, from his general observation of cu i ous . human nature, conceived that they must ope- rate upon great and atrocious minds : but the jealousy of Ford or Kitely, and the ambition of Malvolio, are the same passions opeiating as the poet had seen them operate on indivi- duals of his own age and country. In the one, the general characteristics of human nature are merely heightened and embellished : but, in the other, they are modified and debased to suit the peculiarities, either natural or acquired, of particular individuals or classes of men. 4. The same difference is observable, in the character and expression of attitude and coun- tenance, between the pictures of Raphael, and those of Rembrandt. Both drew from nature ; but the one drew the general energies and per- fections of mankind, and the other their indivi- dual peculiarities and perversions : whence the compositions of the one are sublime, and those of the other ridiculous. Raphael raises us in our own estimation by showing us images of men, such as we think might exist ; and Rem- brandt degrades us by showing us such as we \f.now do exist : for the ridiculous, in whatso- ever mode it be exhibited, will ever retain so much of its original principle, that the pleasure, 41(5 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE.' chap. which it causes, will be in its nature a pleasure , "* of malignity. 'f the Rich- T,, i j.t, culous. 5. It has been observed by Locke that wit consists in facility of combination, and judg- ment in accuracy of discrimination * : but wit in this sense means, not merely pleasantry, but the power of imagination in general ; in which signification the word appears to have been universally employed till lately. As limited to that particular species of wit, which excites mirth or pleasantry, it is equally comprehended in this definition : for whether the combinations of imagery be sublime or ludicrous ; — be in- tended to excite admiration or laughter, a fa- cility in discovering resemblances will equally constitute the power of producing them ; since invention itself is nothing but a prompt, vigor- ous, and extensive power of combination. 6. Sublime imagery is not less sublime for being obvious ; but all ludicrous combinations must be new and uncommon, though just and natural : for it is in the sudden display of un- foreseen resemblances between things of dif- ferent or opposite character; such as the grave and the gay ; the pompous and the familiar ; the exalted and the humble, &c. that what are called flashes of wit principally consist. In all, the principal feature or figure in the composi- * Essay on Understanding, book ii. c. xi. f. 2. 1'ART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 417 tion is shown to the imagination, distorted or chap. debused by beins; placed in an unfavourable light; or associated with degrading ideas; from cu io US X ' the influence of which, the air of ridicule, which it acquires, arises. 7. Humour consists in similar coincidences of things generally dissimilar, displayed in man- ners instead of images and ideas : as when the auctioneer considers himself as a public cha- racter in the state, and imagines that his pro- fession requires the talents of a consummate orator and rhetorician ; or when a fishmonger, exalted to the rank of a major of militia, de- scribes the moving; of his regiment, from vil- lage to village, with all the pomp and pedantry of military diction, usually employed in de- scribing the march of numerous armies from one kingdom to another. In all cases, this kind of mock heroic is among the most power- ful sources of the ludicrous : as, by joining the forms of the most momentous of human affairs to the most trivial of human actions, it at once amuses the imagination with novelty and con- trast, and flatters that innate principle of selfish vanity or malignity, which makes us naiurally delight in the degradation of whatsoever is exalted. S. Of the same kind are the burlesque imi- tations or parodies of serious compositions ; which being the most easy of all the tricks, by E E 41S PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. which ridicule is produced, generally constitute "' . the wit and humour of those, who have no culous. other : for as the whole art of this species of the ludicrous consists in employing, in a low sense, or upon a low subject, those modes of expression, which another person has employed seriously, or upon an exalted one, it requires neither invention, learning, nor ingenuity; but is always in the power of any person, who will condescend to employ it. The effect, too, is always certain : for when the expressions, ap- propriated to grand or elevated subjects, are transferred to those which are minute, humble, or familiar, the contrast will necessarily be ridi- culous in proportion as it is strong and abrupt. The name of Boileau has preserved a parody, of this kind, of a celebrated scene in the Cid of Corneille ; though it is a piece of wit, of which Boileau's valet-de-chambre was just as capable as his master. Ludicrous parodies of some passages in the odes of Pindar are also still extant, in a comedy of Aristophanes * ; and probably many more were made by the lesser wits of that age : since no compositions were ever more open to such kind of ridicule ; the change of a single word being, in many instances, sufficient to direct all his dithyrambic pomp of diction to some low or mean object r and consequently to make it ludicrous, in pro- * Fragm. Pindar, xiii. ed. Heyne. PART ill. OP THE PASSIONS. 419 portion to its inflation and magnificence. The chap. ridiculous seems indeed to be always lying in tl '*' Rid wait on the extreme verge of the sublime and culous. pathetic ; and, as the chill of a single drop of cold water can condense into torpid dew an elastic mass of steam sufficient to give motion to the most powerful engine, so the damp of a single low word or incongruous circumstance is sufficient to sink into meanness and ridicule the most lofty imagery, or pathetic effusion, expressed otherwise in the most dignified and appropriate terms ; and the higher the pitch, to which the strings of passion or enthusiasm are strained, the more sudden and complete will be their relaxation. 9. Upon the same principle, incongruities in dress, deportment, and dialect; such as dirt and finery, awkwardness and affectation, pomp and vulgarity, are ludicrous; and, above all, the heterogeneous confusion of accent and idiom, which a foreigner makes, when speaking a language, with which he is but imperfectly acquainted ; a species of the ridiculous, which, howsoever low and contemptible it may appear to the polished courtier, or proud philosopher, has been a constant resource of comedy, from the time of Aristophanes, to the present day ; Moliere being the only writer, distinguished for much vis comica, who has not condescended to employ it. EE2 420 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. 10. The pleasure, which we receive from the _. "* . . imitations of a common mimic, who takes oft' Of the Rich- . . „ , , ....'. ' culous. as xt 1S called, the peculiarities ot voice, ges- ture, manner, and expression of particular individuals, is of the same kind, and derived from the same principle : for, in the imitation, those peculiarities are always, in some degree, distorted and exaggerated; and, by being exhi- bited through organs and features, to which they do not naturally belong, they acquire a new character ; which becomes ludicrous, in proportion as it becomes remote from the general style then in use in the polished ranks of society. There is scarcely any person, whose manner a good mimic will not make appear ludicrous; or whose features a good caricaturist will not make appear ridiculous; without, in either case, losing the general re- semblance : for there is scarcely any individual, who has not some peculiarity both in his man- ner and features ; and by exaggerating this, and making it prominent, both the one and the other are enabled to give a vitiated and dis- torted ; and, consequently, a ludicrous resem- blance of him. 11. In all these cases, it is something of defect or deformity which pleases us ; and con- sequently, how degrading soever it may be to own it, the passion flattered must be of the malignant kind. Those persons, nevertheless, PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 421 who are most prone to laughter, and most chap. ready to enjoy every kind of social pleasantry ."' or ridicule, without reflecting at whose expence culous. it is indulged, are commonly called good-na- tured; while those, on the contrary, who show no such disposition ; but who chill with grave looks ; or check with moral observations, the mirth, which a gay circle is deriving from a ludicrous display of the follies and foibles of a person, whom they, perhaps, all reverence and esteem, are as commonly styled morose, sour, ill-natured fellows. But in this case, we con- found two qualities, which are extremely dif- ferent, good-nature, and good-humour. Good- nature is that benevolent sensibility of mind, which disposes us to feel both the happiness and misery of others ; and to endeavour to pro- mote the one, and prevent or mitigate the other : but, as this is often quite impossible ; and as spectacles of misery are more fre- quent and obtrusive than those of bliss; the good-natured man often finds his imagination so haunted with unpleasant images ; and his memory so loaded with dismal recollections; that his whole mind becomes tinged with me- lancholy ; which frequently shows itself in unseasonable gravity, and even austerity of countenance and deportment ; and in a gloomy roughness of behaviour; which is easily mis- taken for the sour morosity of the worst spe- e e 3 422 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. cies of malignant temper. Good humour, on Ir ' the contrary, is that prompt susceptibility of Of the Ridi- . . / ' . . * / . r • culous. every kind of social or restive gratification, which a mind void of suffering or sorrow in itself; and incapable, through want of thought or sensibility, of feeling the sufferings or sor- rows of others, ever enjoys. A certain degree of vanity, or light pride, is absolutely neces- sary to feed and support it ; and, though it is never allied to dark envy or atrocious malignity, it is never, I believe, entirely free from a cer- tain share of sordid selfishness : for, as the perpetual smile of gaiety can only flow from the heart, which is perpetually at ease, it can only flow from that, which carries the ingre- dients of perpetual ease always within itself; and these are affections, which never diverge far from its own centre. 3 2. There is, nevertheless, a certain degree of sympathy in joy, as well as in sorrow — in laughter, as well as in tears — Ut ridentibus adrident, ita flentibus adflent Humani vultus. But still, I think, the sympathy is weaker ; and the comparative degree of joy or exhilaration, which we feel in beholding the gaiety and festi- vity of others, is much less than that of the grief or pity, which we feel in beholding their sufferings and sorrows. This, however, may PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 42S depend, in a great degree, on the respective chap. constitutions of different individuals; for each _ "* . . . . . Of the Ridi- will of course sympathize most with that pas- culous. sion, to which he is most prone by nature or habit: but, nevertheless, in exciting laughter, sympathy seems, in all cases, to be less power- ful than contrast; for the dry joker or grave buffoon is always more successful, in creating mirth, than the gay giggling one. What the poet says of sympathetic sorrow — Si vis me flere dolendum est Primum ipsi tibi" is certainly not applicable to sympathetic mer- riment : for, in proportion as the wit laughs at his own joke, his audience are generally dis- posed to be serious *. 13. All the selfish passions, or those passions which peculiarly belong to self-preservation or self-gratification ; such as fear, parsimony, avarice, vanity, gluttony, &c. are the most common and proper subjects of the ridiculous; and are consequently the leading characteristics in the most prominent personages of comic fiction : for, as they show vice without energy ; and make human nature appear base without being atrocious, and vile without being dcstruc- * " Quamquam gratia plurimum dictis severitas affert; fitque ridiculum id ipsum, quia qui dicit non ridet." — Quinctil. Inst. 1. vi. c. iii. £ E 4 424 PRINCIPLES OF TASTF. : chap. tive, they excite the laugh of scorn instead of u " the frown of indignation ; and receive, from Of the Ridi- ..... °. . ' culous. the insignificance ot their enecb the ludicrous character of folly, instead of the serious one of wickedness. 14. Like all qualities, however, which are vicious only in their excess, and meritorious in their moderation, it is impossible to express or represent them so, as that the characters exhibited may not be liable to be misunderstood or misapplied : for as the boundaries between the vicious excess and the virtuous moderation cannot be fixed by any geometrical admeasure- ment, or mathematical calculation, every indi- vidual fixes them according to his particular disposition, interest, or circumstances. That degree of fear, which, to the soldier or the seaman, may appear unmanly timidity, may, to the merchant or mechanic, seem only neces- sary caution ; and that degree of parsimony, ■which the old and wary may think only laud- able frugality, may, to the young and dissipated, appear the meanest penury : whence every rake or spendthrift, when he sees the comedy of the Miser, will be apt to apply the charac- ter of Harpagon to the father or guardian, by whose prudence he is restrained from ruining himself and his family; and conclude that it is equally meritorious to rob or defraud him. l>ut would he not have made a similar application PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 425 of what he saw in real life, and drawn a simi- chap. lar conclusion, if he had never seen the play ? _ "• I think it is evident that he would: lor comedy culous. is a fictitious imitation of the examples of real life, and not an example, from which real life is ever copied. No one ever goes to the the- atre to learn how he is to act on a particular emergency ; or to hear the solution of any general question of casuistical morality, that may have arisen in his mind ; but merely to sympathize with the general energies, or laugh at the particular weaknesses of human nature : which, in the fictions of theatrical representa- tion, he can do without the intermixture of any of those painful or humiliating sentiments, which would occur in contemplating them, as they arise from similar events in real life. 15. As exhibiting the particular weaknesses and follies of the human mind, the fictions of comedy, and the characters which it employs, must deviate from the common system, which common prudence marks out for the conduct of domestic life, equally with those of tragedy, which displays its general energies. The usual subject and principal action of all comedy is love, and its termination marriage : but if this union were to be, as it commonly is, or at least ought to be in real life, the slow result of calm and tried attachment — of deliberate and sober preference; sanctified by virtue and directed by 426" PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. prudence, how flat, tame, and insipid would be ' the progress of it ; and how impossible for any culous. powers of genius to make the representation of such scenes interesting or amusing ! To pro- duce this effect, there must be difficulties and embarrassments, obstacles and restrictions ; which are to be eluded by intrigue, controlled by impudence, or surmounted by audacity. The credulity of the simple is to be duped and exposed by the artifice of the crafty; or the circumspection of the wary baffled and frus- trated by the enterprise of the bold; so that the various peculiarities of manners, dispositions, and affections may be displayed in a variety of situations, and under the influence of a variety of circumstances, to amuse the fancies, and awaken the sympathies of the spectators. 1(5. These difficulties and embarrassments, obstacles and restrictions, of course, arise from guardians or parents ; whose prudence or ava- rice, vanity or ambition, thwart the more disin- terested inclinations of their wards and chil- dren. They are consequently the persons whose credulity is to be duped, whose cir- cumspection is to be eluded, and whose cha- racters are to be exposed to the scorn and ridicule of the spectators. Even where the plot of the piece does not admit of such characters ; that scorn and ridicule are often pointed against the simple and inoffensive — the weak and well- PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 427 meaning ; who are cheated by the crafty, in- chap. suited by the insolent, and triumphed over by 0f tl "* Ridi<> all. culous. 1 7. Comedy therefore, considered as holding out examples for real life, is necessarily still more immoral in its tendency than tragedy ; since the characters and incidents, which it exhibits, are those which occur in the ordinary ranks of civil society, and which it is therefore in every one's power to imitate. The crimes of King Richard, or Macbeth, are within the reach of few ; but the vices of Charles Surface, and the indiscretions of Tom Jones, are within the reach of every gentleman : nevertheless, I do not believe that such vices, and such indis- cretions, would have been less frequent, if those popular instances of them had never been ex- hibited to the public : for the high spirits of the gay and voluptuous think as little of the examples held out in plays and romances, when plunging into riot and intemperance, as the aspiring minds of the ambitious do, when plan- ning designs of treason and usurpation. A coxcomical highwayman may, indeed, affect to imitate the character of Macheath ; but this imitation commences after he becomes a high- wayman, which he would equally have been, had the Beggar's Opera never existed. Men are driven to such courses by the urgent pres- sure of want, brought on, perhaps, by the 428 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: cnAP. thoughtless indulgences of vice and extrava- a ' gance : but no person, in his senses, was ever , e ) 1_ led into enterprises of such dangerous import- ance by the romantic desire of imitating the fictions of a drama. If the conduct of any per- sons is influenced by the examples exhibited in such fictions, it is that of young ladies in the affairs of love and marriage : but I believe that such influence is much more rare, than severe moralists are inclined to suppose ; since there were plenty of elopements, and stolen matches, before comedies, or plays of any kind, were known — " viderunt primos argentea secula mcechos." — If, however, there are any roman- tic minds, which feel this influence, they may draw an awful lesson concerning its conse- quences from the same source ; namely, that the same kind of marriage, which usually ends a comedy, as usually begins a tragedy. [ 429 ] CHAPTER III. OF NOVELTY. l. It has been observed, in a preceding part chap. of this inquiry, that every natural sentiment or m - sensation, when long continued without varia- , °2^ ^ tion or interruption, becomes an habitual mode of existence instead of a transitory affection ; and, therefore, ceases to produce any marked degree either of pleasure or pain. Even if repeated very frequently, and always in the same mode and degree, it will become so far habitual as to be very insipid ; though not quite neutral or imperceptible : for if the revival of it can so far awaken attention as to be perceived and noted, its impression must be either pleas- ing^ or the contrary ; though, perhaps, in so slight a degree, as scarcely to relieve the mind from that painful listlessness, which arises from the sense of mere unemployed and unvaried existence. 2. Change and variety are, therefore, neces- sary to the enjoyment of all pleasure ; whether sensual or intellectual : and so powerful is this principle, that all change, not so violent as to produce a degree of irritation in the organs 430 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. absolutely painful, is pleasing; and preferable Of n"' It to an y um f° rm ana " unvaried gratification. 3. It might naturally be supposed, when standards of excellence were universally ac- knowledged and admired in every art; in poetry and elocution ; in painting and sculpture; in personal dress, decoration, and demeanor ; it might naturally be supposed, I say, that the style and manner at least of those standards would be universally followed ; and that the wit and ingenuity of man would only be em- ployed in adding the utmost refinements of execution to that, which admitted of no im- provements from invention. But this is by no means the case : — on the contrary, ita compa- ratum est humanum ingenium, ut optimarum rerum satietate defatigetur ; unde fit, artes, necessitatis vi crescere, aut decrescere semper ; et ad fastigium evectas, ibi non posse consis* tere. Perfection in taste and style has no sooner been reached, than it has been aban- doned, even by those, who not only professed the warmest, but felt the sincerest admiration for the models, which they forsook. The style of Virgil and Horace in poetry, and that of Caesar and Cicero in prose, continued to be admired and applauded through all the suc- ceeding ages of Roman eloquence, as the true standards of taste and eloquence in writing. Yet no one ever attempted to imitate them; 3 PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 43l though there is no reason to suspect that their ciiap. praises were not perfectly sincere : but all writers nt : seek for applause; and applause is only to be ^J: ° V -^_j* gained by novelty. The style of Cicero and Virgil was new in the Latin language, when they wrote ; but, in the age of Seneca and Lucan, it was no longer so ; and though it still imposed by the stamp of authority, it could not even please without it; so that living writers, whose names depended on their works, and not their works upon their names, were obliged to seek for other means of exciting public attention, and acquiring public appro- bation. In the succeeding age the refinements of these writers became old and insipid ; and those of Statius and Tacitus were successfully employed to gratify the restless pruriency of innovation. In all other ages and countries, where letters have been successfully cultivated, the progression has been nearly the same ; and in none more distinctly than in our own : from Swift and Addison to Johnson, Burke and Gib- bon, is a transition exactly similar to that from Caesar and Cicero to Seneca and Tacitus. 4. In imitative art, the progress of corrup- tion has been nearly the same. The taste for pure design in Italy arose and perished with Raphael ; whose immediate scholars and suc- cessors deviated into extravagance and distor- tion ? that they might appear original, and gain 432 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chav. the applause of their contemporaries by sur- m * passing what was simply excellent; in which, if they did not succeed, they at least succeeded in producing something new ; which equally answered their purpose. In the following age, novelties still more fascinating and various were displayed by the masterly hands and luxuriant imaginations of Lanfranc and Pietro da Cor- tona; whence the style of art became entirely changed ; and though Raphael was still looked up to, as the most perfect master of design, those, who most implicitly acknowledged the authority of his name, had evidently lost all relish for the merits, by which it was acquired. They admired the vigour of his genius, and ap- plauded the purity of his taste ; but lamented that he had not been acquainted with the prin- ciple of pyramidal grouping, the flowing line, and all those systematic tricks of false refine- ment, to the want of which, he in a great degree owed that reputation, which alone recommended his works to their notice or approbation. 5. The words genius and taste are, like the words beauty and virtue, mere terms of general approbation, which men apply to whatever they approve, without annexing any specific ideas to them. They are, therefore, as often employed to signify extravagant novelty as genuine merit ; and it is only time that arrests the abuse. Pu- rity, simplicity, grace, and elegance, are, as well PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 433 as beauty, qualities, that are always equally chap. admired, because the words, by which they are sfQ Ve jty expressed, are terms of approbation. But, nevertheless, these terms are entirely under the influence of fashion ; and are applied to every novelty of style or manner, to which accident or caprice gives a momentary currency. Pietro da Cortona and Bernini would, without doubt, have maintained their pretensions to them as firmly, and, probably, as sincerely as Raphael, Annibal Caracci, or Nicolas Poussin ; and their admirers would have supported their claims with equal obstinacy : for no person ever adopted or admired a style, which he felt or thought to be inelegant, ungraceful, or impure ; but the meaning, which the words elegance, grace, and purity bear, differs, not only in dif- ferent individuals, but in the same individuals, accordingly as they are differently applied. We often hear the same persons talk of the grace and elegance of a Greek statue, and of a French dancer; and, perhaps, with equal sincerity: for, either they feel neither, and are guided, in the one instance, by the authority of criticism ; and, in the other, by that of fashion ; or, per- haps, they feel both ; but, in the latter instance, misapply the terms, or mistake the causes of their feelings : for, as novelty and difficulty, displayed in extraordinary feats of bodily strength and agility, are really and universally F F III. Of Novelty 434 *T1INCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. pleasing, it is no wonder that they should, in the laxity of colloquial language, be called by those terms, which are generally and indiscri- minately employed to signify pleasing modifi- cations of form and action. 6. There is no extravagance or absurdity of dress, or personal decoration or disguise, to which the same terms have not been applied with equal sincerity, so long as it has borne the gloss of novelty, or stamp of fashion ; and, perhaps, painters, sculptors, and writers may be no further answerable for the corruptions of taste in art and eloquence, than taylors and milliners are for those in dress ; since, in all professions— Those, who live to please, must please to live. The restless desire of novelty, so general among all mankind, may, perhaps, be the principle of both; to the extravagancies and caprices of which, those, who make it their business to supply the gratifications, must, of course, con- form : for whether an artist or an author work for money or for fame, he is equally dependent upon public opinion; since mere posthumous fame is but a cold and distant reward ; and is, moreover, one of which no person can be certain *, • u Semper oratorum eloquentiae moderatrix fuit audito- rum prudentia. Omnes enim, qui proban volunt, volun- PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 435 7. The corruptions of art and the extrava- chap. gancies of dress have, as far as I have been " & ' .Of Novelty. able to observe, universally accompanied each other : but poetry and elocution have never manifested any symptoms of sympathy with either. From the middle of the seventeenth to the middle of the eighteenth century, the fashions in dress were carried to the utmost extreme of absurdity ; and imitative art sunk to its lowest state of degradation ; at the same time that taste in literary composition, both in England and France, attained a degree of purity and perfection only surpassed by that of the finest ages of Greece and Rome. The case is that imitative art, being employed in exhibit- ing exterior and visible forms only, necessarily catches its style of imitation, in some degree at least, from those, with which it is most familiar ; while writing, being employed in ex- pressing mind only, is entirely independent, even in its imitations, of all external appear- ances. 8. Perhaps one great cause of the permanency of style, and continued identity of taste, in an- cient art, was the permanency and unvaried simplicity of dress. From the age of Pericles to that of Hadrian, during a period of between tatem eorum, qui audiunt, intuentur, ad eamque, et ad eorum arbitrium et nutum totos se fingunt, et accom- modant." Cic. Orat. ad Brutum, c. 24. FF2 Ill Of Novelty. 436 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE; chap. five and six hundred years, under the suc- cessive domination of the Athenians, the Lacedaemonians, the Macedonians, and the Romans, there was less variation in the style and taste of imitative art, through all the dif- ferent states, that composed those empires, excepting only Egypt, than there is, not only between those of any two schools, but between those of any two successive ages of the same school, in modern Europe. During all that period also, a simplicity of dress, bordering upon negligence, and even approaching to nu- dity, universally prevailed ; and any deviation from it was deemed a symptom of barbarism and corruption of manners unbecoming a man of rank and education *. Even the women, during that period, never attempted to ex- change their native charms for the adscititious ornaments of dress : for, though the limbs and body were more or less concealed, as general custom or individual modesty occasionally re- quired, they never were so disguised, but that the general forms of a human creature were * Thucyd. lib. i. 6. " Sed tibi nee ferro placeat torquere capillos : Nee tua mordaci pumice crura teraa. Ista jube faciant quorum Cybeleia mater . Concinitur Phrygiis exululata modis. Forma viros neglecta decet " Ovid, de Arte Amandi, 1. i. t. 505. See also the Portraits upon Coins, &c. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 437 suffered to appear; which is not the case with chap. a lady in stays and a hoop. About the age of „ * Hadrian, the Roman women of fashion began to dress their hair in fantastic forms, wholly unlike those of nature; and when once dis- guise was thus mistaken for embellishment, there was no longer any principle to check the extravagancies of caprice. Consequently novelty and splendor M r ere soon mistaken for grace and elegance ; and as the contagion im- mediately communicated itself to the other sex, all simplicity of taste in dress and manners; and, with it, all purity of style in art were banished; and the licentious and operose barbarism of the Byzantine court gradually succeeded. 9. But though the passion for novelty has been the principal means of corrupting taste, it has also been a principal mean of polishing and perfecting it* : for, imitation being in itself pleasing, men are always delighted with the best specimens, which they have seen of it, be they ever so bad ; and it is merely the desire of something new, and not any preconceived ideas of something better, that urges them on to seek for improvement. As long as this rest- * ctircunu f/.tv toj, t« alra<; os.irefji.va., ha, pia-v iptyviTUi to»? Myon; ccinctv, hoc. to wip t«; voticren; y.eiivocnrHoov a(p uv yu% ypu/ r otyxBcc, ayi^ov air kvtuv tbtwj x«» t« xcck» ytyvteSeu P**e». — Long in. f. v. F F 3 438 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. less desire of novelty can restrain itself, in in. ... .... pi Of Novelt lnQltatlve ai % to the imitation of real genuine nature, it will only tend to real improvement, and limit its gratifications to varieties of per- fection, and degrees of refinement ; but, when it calls upon invention to usurp the place of imitation ; or substitute to genuine, or merely embellished nature, nature sophisticated and corrupted by artificial habits, it immediately produces vice and extravagance of manner. Of the first, Michael Angelo was a memorable instance ; and of the second, Bernini ; both of whom were men of extraordinary genius and talents ; but stimulated into manner and extra- vagance of opposite kinds by an insatiate desire of novelty and originality ; which was, never- theless, more, perhaps, the general vice of the times, in which they respectively lived, than their own peculiarly : for we may observe that it operates, in modes and degrees nearly similar, in the contemporary Italian poets Ariosto and Marino ; who were likewise men of uncommon talents ; and who, in their respective faults and merits of this kind, nearly resemble the sculp- tors, with whom they respectively flourished. Ariosto, like Michael Angelo, is bold and spi- rited, but extravagant ; while Marino, like Bernini, is redundant, smooth, and ingenious ; but frivolous and affected. The merits and faults of the two first are certainly of a higher PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 439 class; and the judgment of the public has, chap. therefore, justly given them a higher rank and IIS * ... j '' * ' ' a ■ > °f Novelty. station in literature and art. Anostos extra- L ._ i vagance is, indeed, of a very different kind from Michael Angelo's, whose genius more resembled Milton's ; but still it is equally ex- travagance, 10. There is, however, another cause, be- sides the mere love of novelty, for that pro- fusion of ornament, and unremitted affectation of elegance and splendor, which distinguish the decline or corruption of taste in every species of literary composition. When a language, has been cultivated with success, and enriched with popular works in prose and verse, the brilliant and prominent passages of the most popular and admired of them become fixed in every person's memory ; and are thus made the scale, by which they measure, and the criterion, by which they judge the general style of succeed- ing compositions ; which are consequently- condemned as flat, trite, or unpolished, if they do not uniformly stand this unfair test. If, on the contrary, they do, they necessarily display ornament, where the subject requires plainness and simplicity; and thus acquire that tawdry- character, which, though generally abused, can alone secure attention ; and authors can bear abuse, at all times, with much more patience than neglect. F F 4 440 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE! chap. 11. It is observed by a great critic that men ^r « ' , judcre of the merits of a living writer by his Of Novelty. „ J worst performances ; and of those of a dead one, by his best * : and this they do, not so much from any principle of malignity or envy, as because they remember only the most bril- liant passages of the one; and consequently apply them, even mechanically and uninten- tionally, as the standards, by which they try the least brilliant of the others. Hence, an un- varied degree of brilliance and ornament being required, those, whose business it is to gratify public taste, strive to dress every part of their compositions alike ; whether the subject admit of such dress and decoration or not : and as they thus get into a habit of adorning their style by rule and system, instead of by taste and feeling, they adorn all parts of it ill ; and are always either frivolous or extravagant : for, when just feeling and a discriminating tact cease to be the legitimate criteria of excellence, the caprices of novelty are freed from all re- straint ; and the fashion of the day becomes the only test of merit f , * Dr. Johnson, Pref. to Shakspeare. •f- Qua? non laudantur modo a plerisque, sed (quod pejus est) propter hoc ipsum, quod sunt prava laudantur: nam sermo rectus, et secundum naturam enunciatus, nihil ha-^ bere ex ingenio videtur. Quintiliani, Instit, 1. ii, c. y» PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 441 12. As writers and readers multiply in a chap. language, every plain and easy mode ofexpres- J" 1, sion, which it affords, becomes triteand common by frequent repetition ; and certain degrees of vicious refinement and affectation become ab- solutely necessary to exalt the style above the familiar vulgarity of common colloquial speech ; and as this common colloquial speech is con- stantly extending its usurpations, and vulgar- ising refinement ; refinement can only maintain its character and keep out of its reach, by con- stantly retreating from it, and becoming more refined ; and consequently more affected and constrained : this will be found to be the pro- gress of all highly polished languages. 13. In no art has the passion for novelty had more influence, than in that of landscape gar- dening, or embellishing and improving grounds ; of which it appears hitherto to have been almost the sole principle. Whenever this art has been practised in countries only partially and imper- fectly cultivated ; as in the ancient Persian and Roman empires ; and in the modern kingdoms and states of Europe till lately; it always ap- peared to delight in a profuse display of labour and expense ; and in deviating as much as pos- sible from ordinary nature. Rivers, springs, groves, lawns, and forests were to be seen every where ; and the country was covered with fine trees, which exhibited every variety of natural 442 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. form : but canals, fountains, quincunxes, and . nI * , parterres were only to be seen where art and Of Novelty. " , L i r j Ti j industry had lormed them ; and trees cut into the shapes of pyramids and colonnades, men and animals, were new and unusual objects ; and such as were only to be found in highly dressed gardens. Novelty, contrast, and sur- prise are naturally so pleasing, that every per- son was delighted with objects of this kind ; and as the word beauty is always applied indis- criminately to every visible object that is, in any way, pleasing, no one hesitated in calling them beautiful. A great writer has, indeed, gone still further, and so completely sacrificed both his feelings and his philosophy to the fashion of the day, that, . in investigating the subject, he discovers that surprise, arising from novelty and contrast, is the genuine principle of beauty ; and that consequently the Boromean island, in which all these tricks of art are con- trasted with wild uncultivated mountains sur- rounding an extensive lake, is the most beautiful spot on the globe *« Another great writer after- wards discovered that surprise or astonishment was the genuine principle, not of the beautiful, but of the sublime ; which, according to him, is as diametrically opposite to beauty, as pain is to pleasure f. When Montesquieu and * Montesquieu, Fragm. sur le Gout. t Inquiry into the Sublime and Beautiful. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 44,3 Burke thus differ upon a subject, of common sense and feeling, which each had made the particular object of his investigation, who shall hope to escape error in any theoretical in- quiry ? * 14. By taking a comparative view of the style of ornamental gardening in the remotest parts of Asia, we shall find a further illustration of the influence of the same principle of novelty in a directly contrary mode of practice. In the vast and populous empire of China, every spot capable of producing food for either man or beast is cultivated to the utmost extent of art and industry ; and there the gardens of luxury and grounds devoted to amusement are affect- edly diversified with artificial rocks, irregular lakes and ponds, and other imitations of the wild varieties of uncultivated nature : for there, such objects are rare and novel ; and conse- quently the possessing them displays wealth, taste, and magnificence. 1 5. With the general extension of cultivation and enclosing in England, this style, or at least an imperfect imitation of it, was introduced among us ; and, as novelty recommended it to fashion, it soon obtained the sanction of general usage ; which it has now possessed so long «M' o ev $ccvf/.a.£tif, T«v§ trivial ysAn;?. Luciax. Epigr. v. III. Of Novelty 444 PRINCIPLES OF TASTE: chap. that it will probably soon lose it by the influ- ence of the same restless power which first introduced it. At least it has no other prin- ciple to rest upon ; and this is, in its nature, a changeable one. It may serve, indeed, to dis-? tinguish the great man's place from the adjoin- ing country ; and a large space of ground, enclosed by a belt, and dotted with clumps, may show his wealth and magnificence ; and the sacrifices which he makes to his taste : but these sacrifices afford no gratification but to vanity ; since by the very act of sacrificing it ; that is, of throwing it open, all the charms of intricacy and variety are demolished, and no other substituted in their place. 16. These charms of intricacy and variety, which ought peculiarly to be cherished and cultivated in this art # , owe all their effect to the natural love of novelty, of which we are here treating : for, though contrast and surprise cannot constitute beauty, they can render it more impressive ; and, though a number of objects seen together are still the same, as when seen separately, yet their effect upon the eye and the imagination is extremely different. By being skilfully divided and arranged in separate compositions, and shown successively • Let not each beauty every where be spy'd, Where half the skill is decently to hide. Pope, Epist. on Tasta. PART III. OF THE PASSIONS. 445 in scenes artfully contrasted with each other, chap. each acquires separately the charm of novelty, .\ and contributes to bestow it on the next ; and as all is never shown at once, the spectator never knows when he has seen all ; but still imagines that there are other beauties unre- vealed, which fancy decorates with its own colours. The proprietor or contriver, indeed, who knows all, can surfer no such pleasing delusions : but, nevertheless, the changes pro- duced by every variation of season, or even of weather, in confined scenery are so great; and the alterations made in a composition by the growth or amputation of the branch of a tree, so important, that the novelty of it is inex- haustible and everlasting ; especially if the pro- prietor improve, not by a preconcerted plan, but by the more safe and certain method of gradual experiment and observation. It i3 often impossible to know what ought to be done, till we know the effect of what has been done ; and if this depend upon the growth of trees, it cannot be ascertained by any calcula- tion, but must wait the discovery of time ; and, by thus waiting, we both diversify and prolong the amusement; and have the pleasure of con- templating, every year, new varieties of still Improving scenery. The planter, too, is apt to think that, if his plantations grow, his work is done : but if he plant for timber, either useful III. Of Novelty 446 PRINCIPLES OF taste: chap. or ornamental, his plantations must be thinned gradually \ and, if they be meant for orna- ment, the cutting down requires infinitely more skill and attention than the planting. The one is only the dead colouring of the picture, or rough hewing of the statue, in which any error may be amended ; but the other is the finish- ing of it, in which a single false stroke may be fatal. 17. As every new impression, either upon the organs of sense, or upon the mind, that is not absolutely painful, is pleasing, curiosity is one of the most universal passions ; and one, of which the gratifications afford, perhaps, the most pure and unmixed, if not the most exqui- site pleasures. Not only every acquisition of knowledge, but every new idea or new image, from what source soever it may be derived, affords real delight # : whence we are all pleased at hearing narrations of miraculous and extra- ordinary events, and feel a natural inclination to believe them true. So strong, indeed, is this inclination, that I have often observed persons employ, imperceptibly, no small degree of arti- fice to deceive themselves into a belief of mi- racles, in the truth of which they were no ways interested : whence I have been led to suspect that many persons, who have passed in the world to ot Savpixcfloii i)Ov' avijjtttov oe' ^_ _ ^_/ were it realized, that we should eagerly covet any change, and agree with the poet that even death itself is to be reckoned among the gifts or benefactions of nature *. Man, as he now is, is formed for the world, as it now is, in which He never is, but always to be blest — that is, his real happiness consists in the means and not in the end : — in acquisition, and not in possession. The source and principle of it is, therefore, novelty : the attaiment of new ideas ; the formation of new trains of thought ; the renewal and extension of affections and attachments ; the new circumstances and situa- tions, in which all the objects of those affections and attachments appear by periodical or pro- gressive change ; the new lights, in which we ourselves view them, as we advance from in- fancy to maturity, and from maturity to decay ; the consequent new exertions and variations of pursuit adapted to every period of life ; and, above all, the unlimited power of fancy in multiplying and varying the objects, the results, and the gratifications of our pursuits beyond the bounds of reality, or the probable dura- tion of existence. A state of abstract perfection * Juvenal, Sat. x. FART III. OF THE FASSIONS. 473 would, according to our present weak and in- chap. adequate notions of things, be a state of per- in * I l . . 1J ° ' .. i , Of Novelty. feet misery ; as it would necessarily preclude -_^_. -^ almost every mental exercise and intellectual gratification, from which our happiness here arises. If every thing were known, there would be nothing to be learned ; if every good were possessed, there would be none to be acquired ; and if none were wanting, or there were no evil, there would be none to be done ; and consequently all would be dead inaction, or actioa without motive or effect. So absurd and presumptuous is it in us to attempt to form any ideas of the beatitude of superior beings, whose faculties and modes of intelli- gence have, perhaps, nothing in common with our own. THE END. Luke Hansard, printer, Great Turnstile, Lincoln's-Inn Fields. ^«ca_