could not easily have been formed in the mind in a picture; because, considered as mere

of a diligent and extensive observer of nature, and that they would probably be reversed by habits of reflection and study. But the same thing, it is obvious, may be said of the notions of beauty of any other description that prevail among the rude, the inexperienced, and uninstructed;-though, in all other instances, we take it for granted, that the beauty which is perceived depends altogether upon association, and in no degree on its power of giving a pleasurable impulse to the organ to which it addresses itself. If any considerable number of persons, with the perfect use of sight, actually take pleasure in certain combinations of colours-that is complete proof that such combinations are not naturally offensive to the organ of sight, and that the pleasure of such persons, exactly like that of those who disagree with them, is derived not from the sense, but from associations with its perceptions.

objects of sight, they may often present beautiful effects of colouring and shadow; and these are preserved or heightened in the imitation, disjointed from all their offensive accompaniments. Now, if the tints and shades were the exclusive sources of our gratification, and if this gratification was diminished, instead of being heightened, by the suggestion which, however transiently, must still intrude itself, that they appeared in an imitation of disgusting objects, it must certainly follow, that the pleasure and the beauty would be much enhanced if there was no imitation of any thing whatever, and if the canvas merely presented the tints and shades, unaccompanied with the representation of any particular object. It is perfectly obvious, however, that it would be absurd to call such a collection of coloured spots a beautiful picture; and that a man would be laughed at who should hang up such a piece of stained canvas among the works of the great artists. Again, if it were really possible for any one, but a student of art, to confine the attention to the mere colouring and shadowing of any picture, there is nothing so disgusting but what might form the subject of a beautiful imitation. A piece of putrid veal, or a cancerous ulcer, or the rags that are taken from it, may display the most brilliant tints, and the finest distribution of light and shadow. Does Mr. Knight, however, seriously think, that either of these experiments would succeed? Or are there, in reality, no other qualities in the pictures in question, to which their beauty can be ascribed, but the organic effect of their colours? We humbly conceive that there are; and that far less ingenuity than his might have been able to detect them.

With regard, again, to the effect of broken masses of light and shadow, it is proper, in the first place, to remember, that by the eye we see colour only; and that lights and shadows, as far as the mere organ is concerned, mean nothing but variations of tint. It is very true, no doubt, that we soon learn to refer many of those variations to light and shade, and that they thus become signs to us of depth, and distance, and relief. But, is not this, of itself, sufficient to refute the idea of their affording any primitive or organic pleasure? In so far as they are mere variations of tints, they may be imitated by unmeaning daubs of paint on a pallet;-in so far as they are signs, it is to the mind that they address themselves, and not to the organ. They are signs, too, it should be recollected, and the only signs we have, by which we can receive any correct knowledge of the existence and There is, in the first place, the pleasing ascondition of all external objects at a distance sociation of the skill and power of the artist from us, whether interesting or not interest--a skill and power which we know may be ing. Without the assistance of variety of tint, and of lights and shadows, we could never distinguish one object from another, except by the touch. These appearances, therefore, are the perpetual vehicles of almost all our interesting perceptions; and are consequently associated with all the emotions we receive from visible objects. It is pleasant to see many things in one prospect, because some of them are probably agreeable; and it is pleasant to know the relations of those things, because the qualities or associations, by means of which they interest us, generally depend upon that knowledge. The mixture of colours and shades, however, is necessary to this enjoyment, and consequently is a sign of it, and a source of associated interest or beauty.

Mr. Knight, however, goes much farther than this; and maintains, that the beauty which is so distinctly felt in many pictures of objects in themselves disagreeable, is to be ascribed entirely to the effect of the brilliant and harmonious tints, and the masses of light and shadow that may be employed in the representation. The filthy and tattered rags of a beggar, he observes, and the putrifying contents of a dunghill, may form beautiful objects

employed to produce unmingled delight; whatever may be the character of the particular effort before us: and with the pride of whose possessors we sympathise. But, in the second place, we do humbly conceive that there are many interesting associations connected with the subjects which have been represented as purely disgusting. The aspect of human wretchedness and decay is not, at all events, an indifferent spectacle; and, if presented to us without actual offence to our senses, or any call on our active beneficence, may excite a sympathetic emotion, which is known to be far from undelightful. Many an attractive poem has been written on the miseries of beggars; and why should painting be supposed more fastidious? Besides, it will be observed, that the beggars of the painter are generally among the most interesting of that interesting order;-either young and lovely children, whose health and gaiety, and sweet expression, form an affecting contrast with their squalid garments, and the neglect and misery to which they seem to be destined-or old and venerable persons, mingling something of the dignity and reverence of age with the broken spirit of their condition, and

seeming to reproach mankind for exposing whatever may be thought of the proper name heads so old and white to the pelting of the of this singular gratification, of a musical ear, pitiless storm. While such pictures suggest it seems to be quite certain, that all that rises images so pathetic, it looks almost like a wil- to the dignity of an emotion in the pleasure we ful perversity, to ascribe their beauty entirely receive from sounds, is as clearly the gift of to the mixture of colours which they display, association, as in the case of visible beauty,— and to the forgetfulness of these images. of association with the passionate tones and Even for the dunghill, we think it is possible modulations of the human voice,-with the to say something,-though, we confess, we scenes to which the interesting sounds are have never happened to see any picture, of native,-with the poetry to which they have which that useful compound formed the pe- been married, or even with the skill and culiar subject. There is the display of the genius of the artist by whom they have been painter's art and power here also; and the arranged. dunghill is not only useful, but is associated with many pleasing images of rustic toil and occupation, and of the simplicity, and comfort, and innocence of agricultural life. We do not know that a dunghill is at all a disagreeable object to look at, even in plain reality-provided it be so far off as not to annoy us with its odour, or to soil us with its effusions. In a picture, however, we are safe from any of these disasters; and, considering that it is usually combined, in such delineations, with other more pleasing and touching remembrancers of humble happiness and contentment, we really do not see that it was at all necessary to impute any mysterious or intrinsic beauty to its complexion, in order to account for the satisfaction with which we can then bear to behold it.

Having said so much with a view to reduce to its just value, as an ingredient of beauty, the mere organical delight which the eye is supposed to derive from colours, we really have not patience to apply the same considerations to the alleged beauty of Sounds that are supposed to be insignificant. Beautiful sounds, in general, we think, are beautiful from association only, from their resembling the natural tones of various passions and affections, or from their being originally and most frequently presented to us in scenes or on occasions of natural interest or emotion. With regard, again, to successive or coexistent sounds, we do not, of course, mean to dispute, that there are such things as melody and harmony; and that most men are offended or gratified by the violation or observance of those laws upon which they depend. This, however, it should be observed, is a faculty quite unique, and unlike anything else in our Constitution; by no means universal, as the sense of beauty is, even in cultivated societies; and apparently withheld from whole communities of quick-eared savages and barbarians. Whether the kind of gratification, which results from the mere musical arrangement of sounds, would be felt to be beautiful, or would pass under that name, if it could be presented entirely detached from any associated emotions, appears to us to be exceedingly doubtful. Even with the benefit of such combinations, we do not find, that every arrangement which merely preserves inviolate the rules of composition, is considered as beautiful; and we do not think that it would be consonant, either with the common feeling or common language of mankind, to bestow this epithet upon pieces that had no other merit. At all events, and

Hitherto we have spoken of the beauty of external objects only. But the whole difficulty of the theory consists in its application to them. If that be once adjusted, the beauty of immaterial objects can occasion no perplexity. Poems and other compositions in words, are beautiful in proportion as they are conversant with beautiful objects or as they suggest to us, in a more direct way, the moral and social emotions on which the beauty of all objects depends. Theorems and demonstrations again are beautiful, according as they excite in us emotions of admiration for the genius and intellectual power of their inventors, and images of the magnificent and beneficial ends to which such discoveries may be applied;-and mechanical contrivances are beautiful when they remind us of similar talents and ingenuity, and at the same time impress us with a more direct sense of their vast utility to mankind, and of the great additional conveniences with which life is consequently adorned. In all cases, therefore, there is the suggestion of some interesting conception or emotion associated with a present perception, in which it is apparently confounded and embodied-and this, according to the whole of the preceding deduction, is the distinguishing characteristic of beauty.

Having now explained, as fully as we think necessary, the grounds of that opinion as to the nature of beauty which appears to be most conformable to the truth-we have only to add a word or two as to the necessary consequences of its adoption upon several other controversies of a kindred description.

In the first place, then, we conceive that it establishes the substantial identity of the Sublime, the Beautiful, and the Picturesque; and, consequently, puts an end to all controversy that is not purely verbal, as to the difference of those several qualities. Every material object that interests us, without actually hurting or gratifying our bodily feelings, must do so, according to this theory, in one and the same manner,—that is, by suggesting or recalling some emotion or affection of ourselves, or some other sentient being, and presenting, to our imagination at least, some natural object of love, pity, admiration, or awe. The interest of material objects, therefore, is always the same; and arises, in every case, not from any physical qualities they may possess, but from their association with some idea of emotion. But, though material objects have but one means of exciting emotion, the emotions they do excite are infinite. They

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sions as the sublime beauties of nature, or of the sacred Scriptures;-but has added, in express terms, that, "to oppose the beautiful to the sublime, or to the picturesque, strikes him as something analogous to a contrast between the beautiful and the comic-the beautiful and the tragic-the beautiful and the pathetic or the beautiful and the romantic."

are mirrors that may reflect all shades and all | Beautiful, already referred to, has observed, colours; and, in point of fact, do seldom reflect not only that there appears to him to be no the same hues twice. No two interesting inconsistency or impropriety in such expresobjects, perhaps, whether known by the name of Beautiful, Sublime, or Picturesque, ever produced exactly the same emotion in the beholder; and no one object, it is most probable, ever moved any two persons to the very same conceptions. As they may be associated with all the feelings and affections of which the human mind is susceptible, so they may suggest those feelings in all their variety, and, in fact, do daily excite all sorts of emotions-running through every gradation, from extreme gaiety and elevation, to the borders of horror and disgust.

The only other advantage which we shall specify as likely to result from the general adoption of the theory we have been endeavouring to illustrate is, that it seems calculated to put an end to all these perplexing Now, it is certainly true, that all the variety and vexatious questions about the standard of emotions raised in this way, on the single of taste, which have given occasion to so basis of association, may be classed, in a rude much impertinent and so much elaborate disway, under the denominations of sublime, cussion. If things are not beautiful in thembeautiful, and picturesque, according as they selves, but only as they serve to suggest inpartake of awe, tenderness, or admiration: teresting conceptions to the mind, then every and we have no other objection to this nomen- thing which does in point of fact suggest such clature, except its extreme imperfection, and a conception to any individual, is beautiful to the delusions to which we know that it has that individual; and it is not only quite true given occasion. If objects that interest by that there is no room for disputing about their association with ideas of power, and tastes, but that all tastes are equally just and danger, and terror, are to be distinguished by correct, in so far as each individual speaks the peculiar name of sublime, why should only of his own emotions. When a man calls there not be a separate name also for objects a thing beautiful, however, he may indeed that interest by associations of mirth and mean to make two very different assertions; gaiety-another for those that please by sug--he may mean that it gives him pleasure by gestions of softness and melancholy-another suggesting to him some interesting emotion; for such as are connected with impressions and, in this sense, there can be no doubt that, of comfort and tranquillity-and another for if he merely speak truth, the thing is beautithose that are related to pity, and admiration, ful; and that it pleases him precisely in the and love, and regret, and all the other distinct same way that all other things please those emotions and affections of our nature? These to whom they appear beautiful. But if he are not in reality less distinguishable from mean farther to say that the thing possesses each other, than from the emotions of awe some quality which should make it appear and veneration that confer the title of sublime beautiful to every other person, and that it is on their representatives; and while all the owing to some prejudice or defect in them if former are confounded under the comprehen- it appear otherwise, then he is as unreasonasive appellation of beauty, this partial attempt ble and absurd as he would think those who at distinction is only apt to mislead us into an should attempt to convince him that he felt erroneous opinion of our accuracy, and to no emotion of beauty. make us believe, both that there is a greater conformity among the things that pass under the same name, and a greater difference between those that pass under different names, than is really the case. We have seen already, that the radical error of almost all preceding inquirers, has lain in supposing that every thing that passed under the name of beautiful, must have some real and inherent quality in common with every thing else that obtained that name: And it is scarcely necessary for us to observe, that it has been almost as general an opinion, that sublimity was not only something radically different from beauty, but actually opposite to it; whereas the fact is, that it is far more nearly related to some sorts of beauty, than many sorts of beauty are to each other; and that both are founded exactly upon the same principle of suggesting some past or possible emotion of some sentient being.

Upon this important point, we are happy to find our opinions confirmed by the authority of Mr. Stewart, who, in his Essay on the

All tastes, then, are equally just and true, in so far as concerns the individual whose taste is in question; and what a man feels distinctly to be beautiful, is beautiful to him, whatever other people may think of it. All this follows clearly from the theory now in question: but it does not follow, from it, that all tastes are equally good or desirable, or that there is any difficulty in describing that which is really the best, and the most to be envied. The only use of the faculty of taste, is to afford an innocent delight, and to assist in the cultivation of a finer morality; and that man certainly will have the most delight from this faculty, who has the most numerous and the most powerful perceptions of beauty. But, if beauty consist in the reflection of our affections and sympathies, it is plain that he will always see the most beauty whose affections are the warmest and most exercised— whose imagination is the most powerful, and who has most accustomed himself to attend to the objects by which he is surrounded. In so far as mere feeling and enjoyment are con

and mollified the ferocious tendencies of our people; and are every day extending their nature. The temporary disappearance there-empire, and multiplying their progeny. Mafore of literature and politeness, upon the first dame de Staël sees no reason to doubt, thereshock of this mighty collision, was but the fore, that they will one day inherit the whole subsidence of the sacred flame under the earth; and, under their reign, she takes it to heaps of fuel which were thus profusely be clear, that war, and poverty, and all the provided for its increase; and the seeming misery that arises from vice and ignorance, waste and sterility that ensued, was but the will disappear from the face of society; and first aspect of the fertilizing flood and accu- that men, universally convinced that justice mulated manure under which vegetation was and benevolence are the true sources of enburied for a while, that it might break out joyment, will seek their own happiness in a at last with a richer and more indestructible constant endeavour to promote that of their xuriance. The human intellect was neither neighbours. dead nor inactive, she contends, during that It would be very agreeable to believe all long slumber, in which it was collecting vig-this-in spite of the grudging which would our for unprecedented exertions; and the necessarily arise, from the reflection that we Occupations to which it was devoted, though ourselves were born so much too soon for virnot of the most brilliant or attractive descrip- tue and enjoyment in this world. But it is tion, were perhaps the best fitted for its ul- really impossible to overlook the manifold timate and substantial improvement. The imperfections of the reasoning on which this subtle distinctions, the refined casuistry, and splendid anticipation is founded;-though it ingenious logic of the school divines, were may be worth while to ascertain, if possible, all favourable to habits of careful and accu-in what degree it is founded in truth. rate thinking; and led insensibly to a far The first thing that occurs to a sober-mindmore thorough and profound knowledge of ed listener to this dream of perfectibility, is human nature-the limits of its faculties and the extreme narrowness of the induction from the grounds of its duties-than had been which these sweeping conclusions are so conattained by the more careless inquirers of fidently deduced. A progress that is in its antiquity. When men, therefore, began again own nature infinite and irresistible, must to reason upon human affairs, they were found necessarily have been both universal and to have made an immense progress during the unremitting; and yet the evidence of its experiod when all appeared to be either retro-istence is founded, if we do not deceive ourrade or stationary; and Shakspeare, Bacon, Machiavel, Montaigne, and Galileo, who appeared almost at the same time, in the most distant countries of Europe, each displayed a reach of thought and a power of reasoning which we should look for in vain in the elochent dissertaions of the classical ages. To them succeeded such men as Jeremy Taylor, Molière, Pascal, Locke, and La Bruyère-all of them observers of a character, to which there is nothing at all parallel in antiquity; and yet only preparing the way, in the succeeding age, for Montesquieu, Hume, Voltaire, Smith, Burke, Bentham, Malthus, and so many others; who have made the world familiar with truths, which, however important and demonstrable at all times, certainly never entered into the conception of the earlier inhabitants of the world. Those truths, and others still more important, of which they are destined to be the parents, have already, according to Madame de Staël, produced a prodigious alteration, and an incalculable improvement on the condition of human nature. Through their influence, assisted no doubt by that of the Gospel, slavery has been abolished, trade and industry set free from restriction, and war disarmed of half its horrors; while, in private life, women have been restored to their just rank in society; sentiments of justice and humanity have been universally cultivated, and public opinion been armed with a power which renders every other both safe and salutary.

Many of these truths, which were once the doubtful or derided discoveries of men of original genius, are now admitted as elementary principles in the reasonings of ordinary

selves, upon the history of a very small portion of the human race, for a very small number of generations. The proposition is, that the human species is advancing, and has always been advancing, to a state of perfection, by a law of their nature, of the existence of which their past history and present state leave no room to doubt. But when we cast a glance upon this high destined species, we find this necessary and eternal progress scarcely begun, even now, in the old inhabited continent of Africa-stationary, as far back as our information reaches, in Chinaand retrograde, for a period of at least twelve centuries, and up to this day, in Egypt, India, Persia, and Greece. Even in our own Europe, which contains probably less than one tenth part of our kind, it is admitted, that, for upwards of a thousand years, this great work of moral nature not only stood still, but went visibly backwards, over its fairest regions; and though there has been a prodigious progress in England and France and Germany during the last two hundred years, it may be doubted whether any thing of this sort can be said of Spain or Italy; or various other portions, even of this favoured quarter of the world. It may be very natural for Madame de Staël, or for us, looking only to what has happened in our own world, and in our own times, to indulge in those dazzling views of the unbounded and universal improvement of the whole human race; but such speculations would appear rather wild, we suspect, to those whose lot it is to philosophize among the unchanging nations of Asia; and would probably carry even something of ridicule with them, if propounded upon the ruins of

Thebes or Babylon, or even among the pro- | expedient for one individual, might be just faned relics of Athens or Rome.

We are not inclined, however, to push this very far. The world is certainly something the wiser for its past experience; and there is an accumulation of useful knowledge, which we think likely to increase. The invention of printing and fire-arms, and the perfect communication that is established over all Europe, insures us, we think, against any considerable falling back in respect of the sciences; or the arts and attainments that minister to the conveniences of ordinary life. We have no idea that any of the important discoveries of modern times will ever again be lost or forgotten; or that any future generation will be put to the trouble of inventing, for a second time, the art of making gunpowder or telescopes-the astronomy of Newton, or the mechanics of Watt. All knowledge which admits of demonstration will advance, we have no doubt, and extend itself; and all processes will be improved, that do not interfere with the passions of human nature, or the apparent interests of its ruling classes. But with regard to every thing depending on probable reasoning, or susceptible of debate, and especially with regard to every thing touching morality and enjoyment, we really are not sanguine enough to reckon on any considerable improvement; and suspect that men will go on blundering in speculation, and transgressing in practice, pretty nearly as they do at present, to the latest period of their history.

the reverse for another. Ease and obscurity are the summum bonum of one description of men; while others have an irresistible vocation to strenuous enterprise, and a positive delight in contention and danger. Nor is the magnitude of our virtues and vices referable to a more invariable standard. Intemperance is less a vice in the robust, and dishonesty less foolish in those who care but little for the scorn of society. Some men find their chief happiness in relieving sorrow-some in sympathizing with mirth. Some, again, derive most of their enjoyment from the exercise of their reasoning faculties-others from that of their imagination;-while a third sort attend to little but the gratification of their senses, and a fourth to that of their vanity. One delights in crowds, and another in solitude;-one thinks of nothing but glory, and another of comfort;-and so on, through all the infinite variety, and infinite combinations, of human tastes, temperaments, and habits. Now, it is plain, that each of those persons not only will, but plainly ought to pursue a different road to the common object of happiness; and that they must clash and consequently often jostle with each other, even if each were fully aware of the peculiarity of his own notions, and of the consequences of all that he did in obedience to their impulses. It is altogether impossible, therefore, we humbly conceive, that men should ever settle the point as to what is, on the whole, the wisest course of conduct, or the best disposition of mind; or consequently take even the first step towards that perfection of moral science, or that cordial concert and co-operation in their common pursuit of happiness, which is the only alternative to their fatal opposition.)

In the nature of things, indeed, there can be no end to disputes upon probable, or what is called moral evidence; nor to the contradictory conduct and consequent hostility and oppression, which must result from the opposite views that are taken of such subjects; and this, partly, because the elements that This impossibility will become more appaenter into the calculation are so vast and nu- rent when it is considered, that the only inmerous, that many of the most material must strument by which it is pretended that this always be overlooked by persons of ordinary moral perfection is to be attained, is such a talent and information; and partly because general illumination of the intellect as to make there not only is no standard by which the all men fully aware of the consequences of value of those elements can be ascertained their actions; while the fact is, that it is not, and made manifest, but that they actually in general, through ignorance of their consehave a different value for almost every dif- quences, that actions producing misery are ferent individual. With regard to all nice, actually performed. When the misery is inand indeed all debateable questions of happi- flicted upon others, the actors most frequently ness or morals, therefore, there never can be disregard it, upon a fair enough comparison any agreement among men; because, in re- of its amount with the pain they should inality, there is no truth in which they can flict on themselves by forbearance; and even agree. All questions of this kind turn upon when it falls on their own heads, they will a comparison of the opposite advantages and generally be found rather to have been undisadvantages of any particuliar course of con- lucky in the game, than to have been truly duct or habit of mind: but these are really unacquainted with its hazards; and to have of very different magnitude and importance to ventured with as full a knowledge of the different persons; and their decision, there- risks, as the fortunes of others can ever imfore, even if they all saw the whole con- press on the enterprizing. There are many sequences, or even the same set of conse- men, it should always be recollected, to whom quences, must be irreconcileably diverse. If the happiness of others gives very little satisthe matter in deliberation, for example, be, faction, and their sufferings very little pain, whether it is better to live without toil or ex--and who would rather eat a luxurious meal ertion, but, at the same time, without wealth by themselves, than scatter plenty and gratior glory, or to venture for both upon a scene tude over twenty famishing cottages. of labour and hazard-it is easy to see, that enlightening of the understanding will make the determination which would be wise and such men the instruments of general happi

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