so whimsical, he at last recollected, that when a boy, "he had been fond of a girl who had that blemish.". "The affection he had for this object of his first love," (says Malebranche) "seems to have diffused itself to all "others who any way resembled her." Hence the disposition which young and susceptible minds discover so frequently, to copy the peculiarities in dress, pronunciation and manner, of those they admire or are attached to; the agreeable impressions associated in their fancy with every thing which marks the individual the most strongly to the eye or the ear, leading them to conclude very rashly, that, by an imitation of circumstances which are to themselves so characteristical and expressive, they cannot fail to secure a similar charm to their own exterior. Among the ancients, we are told by Plutarch, there were many who imitated the stuttering of Aristotle, and the wry neck of Alexander; nor has this strong bias of our nature escaped the all-observant eye of Shakespeare:

"He was indeed the glass

"Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
"He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;
"And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
"Became the accents of the valiant."

Hence too, the effect of those writers, who unite with any transcendent excellencies, some affected peculiarities of manner or style, in misleading and corrupting the taste of their contemporaries. "How many great qualities" (says Mr. Smith) "must that writer possess, who can "thus render his very faults agreeable! After the praise "of refining the taste of a nation, the highest eulogy,

perhaps, which can be bestowed on any author, is to 'say that he corrupted it." Proceeding on the same idea, Dr. Johnson remarks, very justly and pertinently, that "if there is any writer whose genius can embellish im"propriety, or whose authority can make error venerable, "his works are the proper objects of critical inquisition." -It is hardly necessary for me to add, that the business of the critic, in such cases is to break asunder the casual associations which an unreflecting admiration of genius has established in the public judgment; and that, in proportion to the degree of sensibility and enthusiasm which accompanies this admiration in the mind of any individual, will be the difficulty of the task which the critic has to. perform.

The foregoing observations seem sufficiently to shew, not only that a sensibility to beauty does not necessarily imply the power of taste; but that, in a mind where the degree of sensibility is extreme, the acquisition of a correct taste is, in ordinary cases, next to impossible. Such a mind may indeed be conceived to have been so circumstanced, as to have been conversant alone with the best models; or it may be so fortified by habits of philosophical study as to resist the influence of casual associations, even when it feels their force; but these cases occur so seldom, that the exceptions rather confirm than weaken the truth of the general conclusion.

Neither is it, perhaps, in minds where sensibility forms the principal feature, that the utmost delicacy of taste is to be looked for. The more prominent beauties of the object are apt to engross the whole soul, and to divert the attention, not only from its defects, but from those nicer

touches which characterize the finer shades and gradations of art. On the other hand, it is a self-evident truth, that where there is no sensibility, there can be no taste; and that even where sensibility is not altogether wanting, it may exist in a degree so very trifling, as not to afford a suffcient inducement or motive for the cultivation of those habits by which taste is formed. There exists, therefore, a certain measure of sensibility, which at once predisposes the mind to the cultivation of taste, and constitutes an aptitude for its acquisition; such a measure of it, as renders that class of our pleasures with which taste is con versant, an interesting object of examination and study; while, on the other hand, it does not rise so high as to discourage habits of observation and analysis, or to overpower the judgment, by lending irresistible force to casual

combinations.

In the practical application, however, of this conclusion, it is of essential consequence to remember, that the de gree of sensibility must always be estimated relatively to the state of those intellectual powers with which it is com bined. A degree of sensibility which a man of vigorous understanding knows how to regulate and to controul, may, in a weaker mind, not only become a source of endless inconvenience and error, but may usurp the mas tery of all its faculties. The truth of this remark is daily exemplified in that sort of sensibility which is affected by the pleasures and pains of human life; and it will be found to hold equally with respect to the feelings which enter as elementary principles into the composition of Taste.

CHAPTER FOURTH.

CONTINUATION OF THE SUBJECT.-SPECIFIC PLEASURE CONNECTED WITH THE EXERCISE OF TASTE.-FASTIDIOUSNESS OF TASTEMISCELLANEOUS REMARKS ON THIS POWER, CONSIDERED IN ITS CONNECTION WITH CHARACTER AND HAPPINESS.

BEFORE I quit this part of the subject, it is important for me to add, that, in proportion as taste is cultivated and matured, there arises a secondary pleasure peculiar to this acquired power; a pleasure essentially distinct from those primary pleasures which its appropriate objects afford. A man of strong sensibility, but destitute of taste, while he enjoys the beauties of a poem or a picture, will receive no positive uneasiness from the concomitant details which may diminish or obstruct the pleasing effect. To a person, on the contrary, of a cultivated taste, these will necessarily appear offensive blemishes, betraying a want of skill and judgment in the author; while, on the other hand, supposing them to have been avoided, and the genuine principles of beauty to have been exhibited pure and unadulterated, there would have been superadded to the pleasures operating on his natural sensibility, the acquired gratification, of remarking the taste as well as genius displayed in the performance.

It is, however, in a very small number, comparatively speaking, of individuals, that taste is the native growth of the original principles and unborrowed habits of their own minds. In by far the greater proportion of men, what usurps that name, and is too frequently acknowledged as having a right to assume it, consists merely of a prompt application of certain technical rules, which pass current in the common circles of fashion or of literature; and which are adopted by the multitude, without the slightest examination, as incontrovertible axioms. Such, for example, is that mechanical and pedantic taste which is imbibed passively on the authority of Aristotle or of Bossu, and which may, in general, be distinguished by a fluent command of that convenient and imposing phraseology which is called by Sterne "the cant of criticism."

These technical rules, at the same time, although often abused, are not without their value; for, although they can never supply the want of natural sensibility, or inspire a relish for beauty in a mind insensible to it before, they may yet point out many of the faults which an artist ought to avoid, and teach those critics how to censure, who are incapable of being taught how to admire. They may even communicate to such a critic, some degree of that se condary pleasure which was formerly mentioned as peculiar to taste; the pleasure of remarking the coincidence between the execution of an artist, and the established rules of his art; or, if he should himself aspire to be an artist, they may enable him to produce what will not much offend, if it should fail to please. What is commonly called fastidiousness of taste, is an affectation chiefly observable in persons of this description; being the natural