Where pure grace ends, the awe of the sublime begins, composed of the
influence of pain, of pleasure, of grace, and deformity, playing into
each other, that the mind is unable to determine which to call it,
pain, pleasure, or terror. Without a conjunction of these powers there
could be no sublimity.
Those only who have passed through the degrees, _common sense, truth_
and _grace_, i.e. the sentiment of grace, can have a sentiment of
sublimity. It is the mild admiration of grace raised to _wonder_
and _astonishment_; to a sentiment of _power_ out of _our power_ to
produce or control. Grace must have been as familiar to the intellect,
in order to discover sublimity, as common sense in the common region
must have been to the discovery of truth and beauty. In fine, genius,
or taste, which is the sentiment of grace, and which I have called the
common sense of the ideal region, can alone discover the true sublime.
It is a pinnacle of beatitude bordering upon horror, deformity,
madness! an eminence from whence the mind, that dares to look farther,
is lost! It seems to stand, or rather to waver, between certainty
and uncertainty, between security and destruction. It is the point of
terror, of undetermined fear, of undetermined power!
The idea of the supreme Being is, I imagine, in every breast, from the
clown to the greatest philosopher, his point of sublimity!
CHAPTER II.
On the ORIGIN of our IDEAS of BEAUTY.
In proportion as the principles of beauty exist in the common form,
undetermined to the common eye, so do they exist in common sense,
undetermined to the common mind. It is cultivation that calls them
into view, gives them a determined form, creates the object, and the
perception, that
'Truth and good are one,
And beauty dwells in them, and they in her.'
AKENSIDE.
But, though all truth resolves into one truth, one beauty, one
good, as all colours resolve into one light; though the scientifical
intellectual colours, classes, or leading principles of science, the
_physical_, the _moral_, the _metaphysical_, &c. &c. resolve into
intellectual light, beauty, or good; it is, I imagine, the moral
truth, that is the characteristic truth of beauty: for, were we to
analyse the pleasing emotions we feel at the sight of beauty, we
should, I imagine, find them composed of our most refined moral
affections; and hence the universal interesting charm of beauty. And,
as those affections refine by culture, hence the different degrees of
the sentiments which beauty creates in the rustic, and in the man of
taste. The former perceives only the physical charm of beauty, the
freshness of colour, the bloom of youth, &c. but, to the man of taste,
the physical pleases only through the medium of the moral: _the body
charms because the soul is seen_; beauty, in his breast, is the source
from whence _endless streams of fair ideas flow_, extending throughout
the whole region of taste, no object of which but is more or less
related to the principles of human beauty. But taste, though a subject
almost inseparable from that of beauty, I must forbear to enlarge upon
in this chapter, as I propose to make it the particular subject of my
next.
It is but at that period, at which we begin to perceive the charms of
moral virtue, that we begin to perceive the real charms of beauty. It
is true, a man may attain, by experience, the knowledge of its just
proportions; without that concomitant sentiment. He may be unconscious
of the characteristic moral charm resulting from the whole. And
an artist, I imagine, by the habitual practice of the rules which
constitute beauty, may produce forms which charm the moral sense of
others, without being conscious of it himself; the utmost limit of
the rules of the imitative arts being so intimately united with the
intuitive principles of taste, or refined moral sense, that the mind
in general cannot distinguish where the one ends or the other begins.
The artist, who separates them, _leans on the second cause_ instead of
the first.
As the strongest proof that the moral sense is the governing principle
of beauty, we may remark, that the human form, from infancy to
old age, has its peculiar beauty annexed to it from the virtue
or affection that nature gives it, and which it exhibits in the
countenance. The negative virtue, innocence, is the beauty of the
child. The more formed virtues, benevolence, generosity, compassion,
&c. are the virtues of youth, and its beauty. The fixed and determined
virtues, justice, temperance, fortitude, &c. compose the beauty of
manhood. The philosophic and religious cast of countenance is the
beauty of old age. Now, were any of these expressions misapplied, i.e.
commuted, they would disgust rather than please: without congruity
there could be no virtue; without virtue, no beauty, no sentiment of
taste.
And thus the beauty of each sex is seen only through the medium of
the virtues belonging to each. The beauty of the masculine sex is seen
only through the medium of the masculine virtues; the beauty of the
feminine only through the medium of the feminine. The moral sense
gives each its distinct portion of the same virtues, but draws a line
which neither can pass without a diminution of their specific
beauty. The softness and mildness of the feminine expression would
be displeasing in a man. The robust and determined expression of
the rigid virtues, justice, fortitude, &c. would be displeasing in a
woman. However perfect the Form, if an incongruity that touches the
well-being of humanity mingles with the idea, the Form will not afford
the pleasing perception of beauty: though the eye may be capable of
seeing its regularity, &c. so far is it from pleasing, that it is
the more disgusting from its semblance to virtue, because that that
semblance is a contradiction to her laws.
May it not be owing to these expressions, so familiar to every eye,
that the general sense of good taste eternally exists? They are the
legible characters of human excellence, no where visible but in the
human countenance, every observation of which improves and confirms
the moral sentiment, or image of beauty, implanted by nature in the
mind of man.
The origin of the idea of beauty is the same in every breast, savage
and civilized. Every nation's characteristic Form or expression of
beauty will be a representation, or portrait, of their characteristic
virtue, their happiness, their good. Thus, in the opinion of the wild
savage, that face or form will be the most beautiful that assimilates
with his idea of savage virtues, corporeal strength, courage, &c.
_perfections that are placed in bones and nerves_: as that of the most
cultivated nations, witness the Grecians, will indicate or portray the
most refined mental virtues. And hence we may conclude, if there be
any dignity, any truth, any beauty, in virtue, there must be a _real_
difference, _superior_ and _inferior_ characteristic power of pleasing
in the exterior of the human form.
It is cultivation that gives birth to beauty as well as to virtue,
by calling forth the visible object to correspond with the invisible
intellectual object. In the face or form of an idiot, or the lowest
rustic, there is no beauty; and, supposing a nation of idiots, and
that they never could improve in mental beauty, they never could, I
imagine, improve in corporeal, even though their natural form was upon
an equality with the rest of mankind; for, without sentiment, they
could not only be incapable of expressing any sentiment analogous to
beauty, but, wanting the surrounding influence of a moral system, i.e.
of the general influence of education on the exterior, they could not
suppress or veil a semblance incongruous with beauty. What no person
felt no person could teach.
In cultivated nations, every precept for exterior appearance, from the
first rudiments of the dancing-master to the motion of grace, has for
its object _mind_, that is, a desire to impress upon the spectator a
favourable idea of our mental character; but, passed the true point of
cultivation, they lose with the sentiment of mental excellence that of
true beauty; witness the exterior artificial appearance of humanity
in a neighbouring nation, which probably is on a par with the most
uncultivated rustic. The one does not enough for nature, the other
too much. But, as the former has an object before him, to which nature
herself directs him, the other is receding from it; and, as it is more
agreeable, more easy, and more natural, to the human mind, to learn
than to unlearn, I should sooner expect the most uncultivated nation,
the negro excepted, to arrive at taste in true beauty than them. The
negro-race seems to be the farthest removed from the line of true
cultivation of any of the human species; their defect of form and
complexion being, I imagine, as strong an obstacle to their acquiring
true taste (the produce of mental cultivation) as any natural defect
they may have in their intellectual faculties. For if, as I have
observed, the total want of cultivation would preclude external
beauty, the total want of external beauty would preclude the power
of cultivation. It appears to me inconceivable, that the negro-race
supposing their mental powers were upon a level with other nations,
could ever arrive at true taste, when their eye is accustomed _only_
to objects so diametrically opposite to taste as the face and form of
negroes are! Our being used or not used to the object cannot make us
perceive any similarity in the lineaments of their countenance to the
lineaments, if I may so say, of our refined virtues and affections,
which alone constitute beauty; and therefore I am induced to believe
that they are a lower order of human beings than the Europeans.
Beauty is an assemblage of every human charm; yet what we call the
_agreeable_ is often more captivating.
The agreeable, in person, is composed of beauties and defects, as is
the common form, but differently composed. The beauties and defects
of the latter are blended into the idea of mediocrity; those of the
former are always distinct and perceptible, contrasting each other,
they engage the attention, and create a kind of pleasing _re-creation_
to the mental faculties; and, in proportion as we can bring them
to unite with our governing principles of pleasure, they create
affection, which gives the person a more fascinating charm than beauty
itself.
It is the mental character that is the moving principle of affection;
and any strong peculiarity, that contradicts not the moral sense,
i.e. that is not _unnatural_, gives the object an accessary charm, and
raises the affection to passion. The object is at once the common and
the uncommon; an union, which constitutes all we call excellent, all
we admire!
The perception of the charms of the agreeable seem to be wrought up
to excellence by the operation of our own powers. We ourselves
have blended its beauties and defects into the sentiment of beauty,
_pleasure_; and hence, probably, the strength and durability of the
passion which it creates. Beauty, on the contrary, is composed to our
hands, _full_, _perfect_, and _intire_; its idea is also a compound of
the common and the uncommon, being at once like and unlike the general
form; but inherently it has no contrast, and therefore affords no
recreation, no pleasing exercise, to the mental faculties; there is
nothing to re-create, nothing to wish; and hence the instability
of the passion which it inspires. Perfect beauty is, like perfect
happiness, lost as soon as it is attained.
It is, I imagine, to the principles of the masculine and the feminine
character, that we owe the perception of beauty or taste, in any
object whatever, throughout all nature and all art that imitates
nature; and, in objects which differ from the human form, the
principles must be in the extreme, because the object is then merely
symbolical. Thus, the meekness of the lamb, and the high-spirited
prancing steed; the gentle dove, and the impetuous eagle; the placid
lake, and the swelling ocean; the lowly valley, and the aspiring
mountain. It is the feminine character that is the sweetest, the most
interesting, image of beauty; the masculine partakes of the sublime.
Thus it will be found, that, in every object that is universally
pleasing, there exist principles which are analogous to those that
constitute beauty in the human species; and that its appearance does
always, in some degree, move the affections, though the mind may be
unconscious of its similitude to any idea in which the affections are
concerned. But the test of the object's possessing the principles
of beauty is when we are able to assimilate its appearance with
some amiable interesting affection; and, according as that affection
prevails in the breast of the spectator, it will appear with an
additional power of pleasing.
From association of ideas, any object may be pleasing, though
absolutely devoid of beauty, and displeasing with it. The form is
_then_ out of the question; it is some _real_ good or evil, with which
the object, but not its form, is associated.
It is observable, that those animals I have mentioned (and I imagine
all animals that are symbolical of our affections have the same) have
a double character of beauty, or reference to the affection that is
moved: i.e. their form and their disposition, exactly corresponding
with each other. Probably on that union depends their power of
pleasing; their _form alone_, so different from human beauty, could
not sufficiently engage the attention, or afford the interesting
perception, which the consistency of truth does, in the _intire_ of an
object.
Every object of taste has _at least_ a double reference to mental
pleasure, whether the object, in the philosophical scale of our
perceptions, belongs to those of _sense_ or _intellect_. Thus, the
beauty of the rose would not certainly be so perceptible to us,
wanting its fragrance, and, with a nauseous smell, would not probably
be admitted, as I may say, into the rank of _agreeableness_, though
it is in reality a beautiful and pleasing object; nor, supposing the
thistle, or any other ugly flower, possessed of the fragrance of the
rose, should we therefore think it an object of taste, any more than
we can think the form of an elephant beautiful, though endued with
almost intellectual beauty.
In the form and colour of flowers, there appears to me a striking
analogy to the character of human beauty. They afford an ocular
demonstration, in the pleasure with which we contemplate their
particular forms, that the pleasure, we receive from the beauty of the
human form, originates from mental character: witness the charm of
the infant, innocence of the snow-drop, of the soft elegance of the
hyacinth, &c. and, on the contrary, our dis-relish of the gaudy tulip,
the robust, unmeaning, masculine, piony, hollyhock, &c. &c.
It is, I imagine, from a resemblance to some pre-conceived idea of
beauty in the human species, that we are particularly pleased with
the sight of one flower more than with another, though the mind
is unconscious of the cause. And thus the pleasure, caused by the
apparent beauty of every object throughout the system of human
perception, is, according to my sentiment of that pleasure, the same
intellectual principle, _moral good_, however diversified, modified,
and diminished, even to an unconsciousness or almost imperceptible
degree of relation to it. In fine, the true principles of beauty, in
every object, may be all _resolved_ into the same principle. But to
conclude.
I have no more doubt that the principles of beauty are moral, than
that the principles of happiness are moral. It is the perception of
true beauty, in its various modifications, that makes up the sum
of human happiness; and hence the diversity of opinions concerning
beauty, but which, however diverse, are never contradictory, but as
mens opinions in morals are so; for every view of beauty assimilates
with some good, and of course must be in unison.
If, in the human system, there exists a principle which constitutes
true pleasure, that principle must be that which constitutes human
excellence; and, if the visible object which excites true pleasure
must necessarily possess the principles of true pleasure, then must
every object, which universally and invariably pleases, be relative to
the principle that constitutes human excellence, morality.
Whatever appears, to each individual, the most excellent in the human
system, at once constitutes his idea of _happiness_, of _morality_,
and of _beauty_; and all mankind, I imagine, would agree in the same
idea, had all the same opportunities of seeing and knowing what was
excellent.
As I imagine the difference in national beauty is marked by the
difference in national morals, so, of course, must the difference of
the opinions of individuals on the subject of beauty be. In fine,
as the moral sense of mankind is coarse or refined, so will be their
taste of beauty.
Of this I am certain, that true refinement is the effect of true
virtue; that virtue is truth, and good; and that beauty dwells in
them, and they in her.
CHAPTER III
On TASTE.
Taste seems to be an inherent impulsive tendency of the soul towards
true good, given by nature to all alike, and which improves in its
sentiment as the reasoning faculties improve in their knowledge of
what _is_ true good.
All the human faculties are, as one may say, constituents of the
principle or faculty of taste. But its perception seems to be shared
between the judgement and the imagination: to the former seems to
belong the truth, or good, of an object of taste; to the latter its
beauty or grace; and the stamina vitæ, or radical principles of taste,
exist, I imagine, in the natural affections of the soul.
What the impulsive spring is, which moves the affections invariably to
perceive pleasure in the perception of good and beauty, and disgust
in the perception of evil or deformity, I leave to my metaphysical
readers to determine. I am afraid to give it an appellation so
incongruous to the general idea of taste, as that of conscience.
Yet, however absurd it may appear, I will venture to say, that, if
my readers will give themselves the trouble to analyse the grateful
sensation or sentiment, we call _taste_ i.e. their sentiment of what
is truly good, beautiful, right, just, ornamental, honourable, &c.
&c. they will find it to originate from, and end in, some moral or
religious principle. Indeed, some objects (the highest in the scale of
our perceptions of excellence) bring with them an immediate conviction
of the truth of this assertion; witness the devotional sentiment which
the view of the main ocean inspires; the rising and setting sun; the
contemplation of the celestial orbs, &c. witness the noblest object
of the creation, when viewed in his highest character. Does not the
perception of human excellence immediately relate to the source of all
excellence?
The general diffusion of intellectual light, throughout mankind,
constitutes rationality; and the aggregated excellence, or light of
rationality, constitutes morality. It is, I imagine, in this second
or purified light, that taste begins to exist. It is at this period of
cultivation that the mind begins to perceive its true good; that the
natural affections rectify, methodize, and refine, in a word, become
moral affections, through whose medium, i.e. the _moral sense_, the
soul perceives every object of taste.
Taste is intellectual pleasure, an approving sense of truth, of good,
and of beauty. The latter seems the visible or ostensible principle
of the two former, and is that in which the universal idea of taste is
comprised. All are pleased with the sight of beauty; but all are by
no means sensible that the principles that make it pleasing, that
constitute a form beautiful, are those, or, to be more intelligible,
relate to those, that constitute man's highest excellence, his first
interest, his chief good. Few, indeed, even among those who possess
taste, if they have not accustomed themselves to investigate its
principles, will readily conceive that they are thus deeply rooted
in the mental frame. Indeed, the generality of mankind seem rather to
think that taste has no principles at all, or, if any, that they begin
and end with the prevailing mode, fashion, &c. of the times; a notion
which, though in the highest degree absurd, corroborates my opinion,
that the universal perception of taste (the true and the false) exists
in the idea of honour.
The compound word, or phrase, _le vrai idéal_, universally adopted to
denote an object of taste, is the most exact and literal definition of
its sentiment that can be conceived; for it implies the union of
the judgement and the imagination, without which there could be no
sentiment of taste. The judgement, as I observed, perceives the truth
of the object, the imagination its beauty; they may be said to relate
to each other, in the perception of an object of taste, as a luminous
polish does to the substance from whence it proceeds: the substance
can exist without its polish, but the polish cannot exist without its
substance. The perception of taste seems to me, if I may so express
myself, to be illusive, but not erroneous; in a word, to exist in our
idea of true honour, i.e. in the polish, lustre, or ornament, of true
virtue.
As the universal idea or sentiment of taste is honour, so the
universal object of its perception is ornament, from the object, whose
excellence we contemplate as an ornament or honour to human nature, to
every object which in the slightest degree indicates the influence
of that excellence. Take away the idea of that influence in the moral
sphere, and taste is annihilated; and, in the natural sphere, take
away the idea of divine influence, and taste cannot exist. Every
sentiment of taste, as I observed before, ultimately relates to the
one or to the other of these principles; indeed, strictly speaking, as
the moral relates to the divine, it may be said ultimately to do the
same.
In the progress of civilization, the polishing principle, which I call
taste, is chiefly found in the highest sphere of life, highest both
for internal and external advantages, wealth accelerates the last
degree of cultivation, by giving efficacy to the principles of true
honour; but it also accelerates its corruption, by giving efficacy
to the principles of false honour, by which the true loses its
distinction, becomes less and less apparent, nay, by degrees, less and
less real. Wealth becoming the object of honour, every principle of
true taste must be reversed. Hence the _dire polish_ of the obdurate
heart, repelling the force of nature. Hence avarice and profusion,
dissipation, luxurious banqueting, &c. supersede the love of oeconomy,
domestic comfort, the sweet reciprocation of the natural affections,
&c. &c. Hence the greatest evils of society: the sorrows of the
virtuous poor, _the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes_,
in a word, the general corruption of morals, and, of course, of true
taste!
The vulgar, who are strangers to the internal principles of honour,
always annex their ideas of taste to the external appearances of the
highest rank of life, which being easily acquired, particularly that
of dress, the prevalency of modes and fashions, however absurd,
is universally adopted. Those of false taste adopt them to attract
notice; those of true taste, to avoid it. But, at this present, the
difficulty of avoiding singularity in dress is, I imagine, much to be
lamented by women of taste and virtue, the prevailing mode of feminine
attire being diametrically opposite to every principle of feminine
excellence; a melancholy proof of our being arrived at the last stage
of depravity!
I could expatiate largely on this subject, but it would be
inconsistent with my plan, which the reader may perceive, throughout
the whole work, to be a mere outline only.
The three grand co-existing principles of taste, virtue, honour, and
ornament, run through all its perceptions. Their triple union cannot
be broken; but taste is nominally distinguished by the one or the
other, according as its objects, situations, circumstances, &c. vary.
Ornament and honour seem the public character of taste; virtue to be
the private and domestic, where, though unperceived by the vulgar,
to the eye of taste[A] she appears in her highest ornament, highest
honour.
[Footnote A: Truth can only judge itself. BACON.]
Taste seems to comprize three orders or degrees in its universal
comprehension.
The first is composed of those objects which immediately relate to the
divinity, among which man claims the preeminence, when viewed in his
highest character: witness the inexpressible charm which the natural
virtuous affections of the soul inspire, when moved by some strong
impulse, such as parental tenderness, filial piety, friendship, &c.
&c. &c. Do they not unite the moral sentiment to the dïvine?
The second is in the immediate external effects of true taste, or
moral virtue, in the social sphere; the order, beauty, and honour,
which every object derives from its influence; and, of course, its
sentiment must be intimately related to moral excellence.
The third and last degree is general ornament and honour, appearing
in fashions, arts of decoration, &c. &c. objects which seeming not
immediately to affect the interests of humanity, the taste they
exhibit in this sphere appears as an uncertain light, sometimes bright
and sometimes obscured; or rather as refracted rays of taste, broken
by the general love of novelty and superfluity; two principles which,
though they are, to a certain degree, essential to exterior ornament,
and the sentiment of true taste, are those in which taste always
begins to corrupt. To illustrate my meaning: true ornament seems
equally to partake of the idea of utility and superfluity, and every
sentiment of taste seems equally to partake of the idea of novelty and
of custom; for, were the object perfectly familiar to us, we should
feel no degree of admiration, without which we could feel no sentiment
of taste; and, were it totally new, unlike any thing we had ever seen,
it would excite wonder instead of admiration, which is a sentiment as
distant from taste as the love of fame is from the love of honour.
This sphere, the last in my scale of the perceptions of taste, and
which borders upon every thing that is contrary to its laws, is
properly the sphere of Fancy, who seems an undisciplined offspring of
Taste; sometimes sporting within the bounds of parental authority, and
sometimes beyond them. Fancy seems to bear the same affinity to Taste
as Pleasure does to Happiness.
Every object of taste is relative to some principle of excellence
from which it derives its power of pleasing; of course, the highest
sentiment of taste must exist in the relative principle to our highest
object of excellence.
True ornament is, to the eye, what eloquence is to the ear: their
principles throughout are one, the truth or beauty of which exists in
its exact relation or adaptation to the object it adorns, constituting
the _just_, the _true_, the _beautiful_, objects, or qualities,
which, in the conscious eye of taste, _relate_ to moral beauty. The
perception of the first relation, i.e. the adaptation of any thing
ornamental to the object it adorns, may, in a great measure, be
learned by habit and general observation; but the higher relation,
the second concoction (as one may say) of its principles, the moral
relation, is the immediate operation of taste.
Ornament and harmonious sound are pleasing to the corporeal sense,
but, when wanting a relative object, please but for a short time; and,
if incongruously joined to an object, i.e. to one with which it can
have no relation, will, as soon as the understanding perceives the
incongruity, become a principle of disgust.
As the virtues differ, in some degree, as the character of the sexes
differ,[A] of course so must the sentiment of taste differ. To the
man I would give the laws of taste; to the woman, its sensibility. The
taste of the former seems more derived from reason; that of the
latter from instinct: witness their impulsive maternal affection; that
inherent ornament of their sex, modesty; their tender susceptibility
of the benevolent virtues, pity, compassion, &c. &c.
[Footnote A: Vide page 23.]
Taste, however, is as far removed from mere instinct as from mere
reason. I only mean to say, that the taste of the masculine character
is rather on the side of reason, or the understanding; that of the
feminine on the side of instinct, and, let me add, imagination. The
taste of the one and of the other seems to differ as justice does from
mercy, as modesty from virtue, as grace from sublimity, &c. &c. And,
as exterior feminine grace is the most perfect visible object of
taste, the highest degree of feminine excellence, externally and
internally united, must of course constitute woman, the most perfect
existing object of taste in the creation.
The cultivation of the social moral affections is the cultivation
of taste, and the domestic sphere is the true and almost only one
in which it can appear in its highest dignity. It is peculiarly
appropriated to feminine taste, and I may say it is _absolutely_
the only one in which it can appear in its true lustre. True taste,
particularly the feminine, is retired, calm, modest; it is the private
honour of the heart, and is, I imagine, incompatible with the love of
fame.
In the present state of society, taste seems to be equally excluded
from the highest and from the lowest sphere of life. The one seems
to be too much encumbered with artificial imaginary necessities; the
other too much encumbered with the real and natural necessities of
life, to attend to its cultivation. It is in the former that taste is
universally thought to reside, which is because the idea of taste
is inseparable from that of honour. It is that, indeed, in which the
general taste of the nation is exhibited. It is its _face_, as I may
say, which expresses the internal character of the heart.
In this sphere, namely, the most exalted station of mankind, what true
taste it does exhibit is placed in the strongest point of view; its
contrary principles are also the same, particularly so to those who
have been rightly educated at a distance from it; to such, the wrong
will instruct as much as the right; but sure I am, that it is not,
at this _period_, the proper sphere for the infant mind to expand and
improve in. The wrong will be too familiar to the mind to disgust;
and the right, which I imagine is chiefly confined to the _records_
of taste in the fine arts, will be too remote (wanting the preparatory
love of nature and virtue) to please.
It is not, I imagine, from objects of excellence in the arts, that
the mind receives the first impressions of taste, though from them
the impressions, we have already received, may be strengthened and
improved. The truths they exhibit awaken the recollection of what
has pleased us in nature; and we exult in the confirmation of our
judgement and taste on finding those objects represented, by genius,
in their best and fairest light. Of course, the excellence we perceive
in the fine arts, which is always relative to moral excellence, must
tend to the improvement of taste.[A]
[Footnote A: L'esprit de l'homme est naturellement plein d'un nombre
infini d'idées confuses du vrai, que souvent il n'entrevoit qu'à demi;
et rien ne lui est plus agréable, que lorsqu'on lui offre quelqu'une
de ces idées bien éclaircie et mise dans un beau jour. BOILEAU,
Préface.]
But, though the arts are thus beneficial to the growing principles
of taste, reflecting a few individuals, it is well known that their
establishment in every nation has had a contrary effect on the
community in general; for, in proportion to the encouragement given
them, as that encouragement immediately promotes two of the most
pernicious principles that can affect the human heart, the most
destructive of moral virtue, namely, the love of fame and the love of
riches, the general diffusion of corruption must ensue, and of course
the extinction of the natural principles of taste, or relish of the
human soul of what is truly beautiful, truly honourable, truly good.
To conclude. I will not presume to say, that a man without taste is
without virtue; but I think I may venture to say, that it is only
as he can have virtue without loving virtue, that he can have virtue
without having taste; the definition of taste being, according to my
apprehension of its perception, the _love_ of virtue. And, as that
love springs from, and tends to, the source of all virtue, all good,
may I not add, that it is but as a man can be religious without
devotion, that a man can be religious without taste? the sentiment
of devotion seeming to be, an aggregation of our most virtuous, most
refined, conscious, energies of soul, in the awful vertical point of
sublimity.
'From thee, great God, we spring, to thee we tend,
Path, motive, guide, original, and end!'
JOHNSON.
THE END.
William Andrews Clark Memorial Library: University of California
THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
_General Editors_
H. RICHARD ARCHER, _Clark Memorial Library_
R.C. BOYS, _University of Michigan_
E.N. HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_
JOHN LOFTIS, _University of California, Los Angeles_
The society exists to make available inexpensive reprints (usually
facsimile reproductions) of rare seventeenth and eighteenth century
works.
The editorial policy of the Society continues unchanged. As in the past,
the editors welcome suggestions concerning publications.
All correspondence concerning subscriptions in the United States and
Canada should be addressed to the William Andrews Clark Memorial
Library, 2205 West Adams Blvd., Los Angeles 18, California.
Correspondence concerning editoral matters may be addressed to any of
the general editors. Membership fee continues $2.50 per year. British
and European subscribers should address B.H. Blackwell, Broad Street,
Oxford, England.
Publications for the fifth year [1950-1951]
(_At least six items, most of them from the following list, will be
reprinted.)
FRANCES REYNOLDS (?): _An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Taste,
and of the Origin of Our Ideas of Beauty, &c._ (1785). Introduction by
James L. Clifford.
THOMAS BAKER: _The Fine Lady's Airs_ (1709). Introduction by John
Harrington Smith.
DANIEL DEFOE: _Vindication of the Press_ (1718). Introduction by Ortho
Clinton Williams.
JOHN EVELYN: _An Apologie for the Royal Party_ (1659); _A Panegyric to
Charles the Second_ (1661). Introduction by Geoffery Keynes.
CHARLES MACKLIN: _Man of the World_ (1781). Introduction by Dougald
MacMillan.
_Prefaces to Fiction_. Selected and with an Introduction by Benjamin
Boyce.
THOMAS SPRAT: _Poems_.
SIR WILLIAM PETTY: _The Advice of W.P. to Mr. Samuel Hartlib for the
Advancement of some particular Parts of Learning_ (1648).
THOMAS GRAY: _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard_ (1751).
(Facsimile of first edition and of portions of Gray's manuscripts of
the poem).
* * * * *
To the Augustan Reprint Society _Subscriber's Name and Address:_
_William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
2205 West Adams Boulevard
Los Angeles 18, California_
_As_ MEMBERSHIP FEE _I enclose for the years marked:_
The current year $ 2.50
The current & the 4th year 5.00
The current, 3rd, & 4th year 7.50
The current, 2nd, 3rd, & 4th year 10.00
The current, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, & 4th year 11.50
(_Publications no. 3 & 4 are out of print_)
Make check or money order payable to THE REGENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA.
NOTE: _All income of the Society is devoted to defraying cost of
printing and mailing_.
_William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
First Year (1946-1947)
1. Richard Blackmore's _Essay upon Wit_ (1716), and Addison's
_Freeholder_ No. 45 (1716).
2. Samuel Cobb's _Of Poetry_ and _Discourse on Criticism_ (1707).
3. _Letter to A.H. Esq.; concerning the Stage_ (1698), and Richard
Willis' _Occasional Paper No. IX_ (1698). (OUT OF PRINT)
4. _Essay on Wit_ (1748), together with Characters by Flecknoe, and
Joseph Warton's _Adventurer_ Nos. 127 and 133. (OUT OF PRINT)
5. Samuel Wesley's _Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry_ (1700) and
_Essay on Heroic Poetry_ (1693).
6. _Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage_(1704)
and _Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage_ (1704).
Second Year (1947-1948)
7. John Gay's _The Present State of Wit_ (1711); and a section on Wit
from _The English Theophrastus_ (1702).
8. Rapin's _De Carmine Pastorali_, translated by Creech (1684).
9. T. Hanmer's (?) _Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_ (1736).
10. Corbyn Morris _Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit,
etc_. (1744).
11. Thomas Purney's _Discourse on the Pastoral_ (1717).
12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood
Krutch.
Third Year (1948-1949)
13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), _The Theatre_ (1720).
14. Edward Moore's _The Gamester_ (1753).
15. John Oldmixon's _Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley_
(1712); and Arthur Mainwaring's _The British Academy_ (1712).
16. Nevil Payne's _Fatal Jealousy_ (1673).
17. Nicholas Rowe's _Some Account of the Life of Mr. William
Shakespear_ (1709).
18. Aaron Hill's Preface to _The Creation_; and Thomas Brereton's
Preface to _Esther_.
Fourth Year (1949-1950)
19. Susanna Centlivre's _The Busie Body_ (1709).
20. Lewis Theobald's _Preface to The Works of Shakespeare_ (1734).
21. _Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Gradison, Clarissa, and Pamela_
(1754).
22. Samuel Johnson's _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749) and Two
_Rambler_ papers (1750).
23. John Dryden's _His Majesties Declaration Defended_ (1681).
24. Pierre Nicole's _An Essay on True and Apparent Beauty in Which
from Settled Principles is Rendered the Grounds for Choosing and
Rejecting Epigrams_, translated by J.V. Cunningham.