as it is distinguished from taste, of which it is the proper object, may be defined, that association of qualities in sensible and intellectual being which awakens in us the above emotions of pleasure or delight, and in the discrimination of which taste is conversant. In this definition of beauty, I have considered it only in reference to taste, without any regard to the principle by which the qualities of beauty awaken in us their correspondent emotions. This principle has been anxiously sought after by the most eminent philosophers in England, France, and Germany; and, indeed, an inquiry into the origin of the emotions produced by the sublime and beautiful, in nature and in art, has been a favourite topic with many elegant writers, since the time of Longinus. Professor Stuart, however, in his late work on the subject, tells us, that "the success of their speculations has been so inconsiderable, that little can be inferred from them, but the impossibility of the problem to which they have been directed." This sweeping clause, coming from so high an authority, must have considerable influence in deterring others, and, it would seem, should have deterred himself, from attempting the enodation of a problem that admits of no solution. If it be true that no common quality belongs to objects, which entitles them to the name of beautiful, it is idle, in the highest degree, to seek for that which has no existence; but if such a quality be allowed to exist, the fruitless attempts that have been hitherto made to discover it, should not deter the labours of others, nor check that spirit of inquiry which seeks to trace the original form and features of things through all the various and diversified aspects in which they present themselves to our view. If we are to be deterred by the ill success of others, what becomes of that Emulation, whose keen eye Forward still and forward strains, While a higher hope remains? A belief that this common quality has a real existence in the nature of things, that it connects all the other qualities of beauty, and that the term beautiful is applied to no object in which its connecting power does not prevail, has alone induced me to engage in the present inquiry; but, as I confine myself entirely, at present, to the investigation of those mental energies, and mediums of sensible perception, that are necessarily exercised in the cultivation of taste, the subject of beauty will necessarily belong to the second part of this work. It is of the first importance to set out with a just view of our subject, as a leading error is generally the cause of all our false theories, in morals, in philosophy, and in religion. A leading, fundamental error, must necessarily affect all the subdivisions of the theory that arise from it, as they must owe their truth or falsehood to the principle from which they arise, and on which they are founded. It will not, therefore, be amiss, that I should first make some observations on the opinion which former writers seem to have entertained of Taste, as these observations will not only give us a more correct idea of its nature and office, but they will afford us an opportunity of perceiving the process by which it is cultivated. They will also shew, that the erroneous definitions of taste which have been adopted by former writers, have, unavoidably, led them into many inconsistencies on the subject. Dr. Blair, in his Essay on Taste, defines it to be "a power of receiving pleasure from the beauties of nature and of art;" a definition which seems to be borrowed from the following passage in Akenside: What, then, is taste but those internal powers, According to this definition, which makes taste consist, not in a knowledge or perception of the qualities of beauty in an object, but in a passive faculty of being pleased at their presence, it is possible to have a perfect knowledge of beauty without any taste; and the best connoisseur can have no pretensions to it, unless he feel a sensible pleasure whenever he perceives the beauties of a picture, a bust, or a statue. But this is not all: a man may have an excellent taste in the morning, and have none at night. We will suppose that a French connoisseur takes his friend to the Louvre, to shew him all the beauties of art that are there deposited. He dwells with rapture on the comprehensive genius of Da Vinci, the sublime conceptions of Angelo, the refined taste of Raphael, the might and energy of the allegoric Rubens, the art of Corregio, the tenderness and delicacy of Titian, the expression of Dominico, the airs of Guido, and the carnations of Giorgion. In a word, he seems himself to be possessed with the spirit of these mighty masters, and to glow with the bright and inspiring ardour of their creative genius, -ce feu, cette divine flamme, L'esprit de notre esprit, & l'ame de notre ame.” He returns, at length, with his friend, exhausted with exertion, and surfeited with intellectual delight. On his return home he meets with another friend, who importunes him, thus fatigued, to return with him to the Louvre. They return. He points out to his friend the same beauties which he had already described: he perceives them now as clearly as he did before; but so far from giving him back those transports which he had already felt, so far from enjoying that pleasure in which Dr. Blair makes taste consist, he views them with uneasiness and pain. They are no longer objects of satisfaction to him; and politeness alone induces him to remain with his friend. The latter, on the contrary, though ignorant of the first rudiments of painting, feels the most lively satisfaction at all the beauties and charms that are described to him. To apply this supposed case to Dr. Blair's definition of taste, it is obvious, if it consist in a power of receiving pleasure from the beauties of nature and of art, that the connoisseur was a man of taste when he first visited the Louvre, and a man of no taste when he visited it the second time, though he was as well acquainted with the beauties of these celebrated paintings the second time as the first; and it is equally obvious, that those whom he conducted there, however ignorant we may suppose them to have been, were men of taste, in the most rigid sense of Dr. Blair's definition, if they felt that pleasure in which he makes taste consist. Taste, then, does not necessarily suppose the idea of pleasure, nor even the co-existence of a power of receiving pleasure from the beauties of nature and of art, unless we admit, what cannot be admitted, that a man may be acquainted with the |