not. What we wish to have observed is, 1. That they are pleasures of very different classes, some of them wholly unlike each other, and incapable, as we believe, of being resolved into the operation of any one general law of our nature; and 2. That they are pleasures not confined to men of taste, but which all men, according to the common principles of our nature, are adapted and disposed to enjoy.

If we now suppose a fine landscape represented by a painter; we may enjoy from the picture the same pleasures which we should derive from reality; some of them however not in the same degree. But to compensate for this, we shall have two new pleasures superadded to our former ones; that is, if the first which we are about to mention be not, as it seems to us it is not, wholly resolvable into the latter.

.

One of them then is the pleasure we receive from the picture, as a striking resemblance of another object, which is in itself very different. We believe that there is a pleasure of a distinct class, (to whatever ultimate principle it is to be referred), arising from this circumstance. We believe that we are gratified merely by the perception of a strong resemblance, between two things in themselves so unlike, as a painted canvass and a natural landscape; a piece of marble and a living and intellectual being; the motions of an automaton and those of an agent, who has will and design. The perception of strong similitude existing with strong dissimilitude, we think gives us pleasure; and a pleasure distinct in its character from that arising from the skill of the artist by which it is produced.

But however this may be, there can be no doubt that a very considerable part of the pleasure, which we receive from a beautiful picture, or from any object of art, is commonly derived from the perception of the skill, the intellectual powers, and the moral qualities of its author. To minds which possess certain habits of observation, to professed critics and - connoisseurs, the skill and talents displayed by the artist seem indeed to be often the principal source of gratification. But in most works of art, not only the skill and talents, but the moral character of their author is discovered, and either afford us pleasure, or produce disgust.

We may observe further, (though it is not immediately to our present purpose,) that painting or poetry may have an ad vantage over nature, in the separation and removal of all those objects or circumstances which are unpleasing; and which, existing in union with what affords us delight, so frequently, in nature and real life, tend to diminish our gratification;—in avoiding those which contribute nothing to unity of effect, or to the general impression, which any scene is adapted to produce; and in combining and uniting more pleasing objects and images, than nature or reality ever present in one scene or prospect. We may enjoy therefore from the painting or description of a fine landscape, not only the same pleasures, (though inferior in degree,) which we should derive from it if present to our view; but pleasures unalloyed by those offending circumstances which so often exist in reality; and we may have a more beautiful landscape displayed before our imagination, than can any where be found in nature. But beside this, thoughts, resemblances, and images may be suggested to our minds, by the skill of the poet, and perhaps also by that of the painter, which would not have spontaneously occurred to us; and latent beauties which we should not have detected, but have passed over without observation, may be brought forward and made to contribute to our enjoyment. The artist not merely opens to our view the beauties of nature, but he leads us through her walks, and points out to us what we ought particularly to notice. We make these remarks, in passing, merely to illustrate a superiority, which painting or poetry may have over nature and reality; not from the introduction of new sources of pleasure, (those of painting we have already noticed,) but from the skilful combination and use of such as are furnished by nature.

Returning to the investigation of the distinct sources of the pleasures of taste, we may suppose a beautiful natural prospect described in poetry. In such a description, there are three new sources of pleasure, quite distinct from any before mentioned. One of them is the delicate choice and beautiful adaptation of words to express the intended meaning; the pleasure arising from which is to be referred perhaps to our perception of fitNo. 1. Vol. III.

26

ness and congruity. Another is the harmony of verse, which produces the pleasure, that by the constitution of our nature accompanies a regular succession of related sounds. This however is not the only pleasure arising from verse. Merely as a succession of sounds, it may, in its different modifications, be made slightly expressive of moral emotion, or of what is adapted to produce moral emotion. A rapid measure tends to excite cheerfulness and gaiety; a slow measure is felt as melancholy and plaintive. That there may be a relation between the sound and the sense is generally believed; and for ourselves we think there is little philosophy in the scepticism of Dr. Johnson upon this subject.*

1 But we may enjoy yet another pleasure from the view which
the poet opens to us of his own mind-of the movements of his
own affections and imagination, as they are operated upon
by the objects he is describing. In this respect poetry has a
great advantage over painting. The painter can, if at all, but
very imperfectly, give us the impression of those feelings, which
the objects he represents produce in his own mind. He must
exhibit his scenes and figures, and trusting to our observation,
leave them to produce their unassisted effect.
He cannot op-
erate upon us through the medium of our sympathy. This on
the contrary is one of the most powerful means which can be
employed by the poet, and still more by the orator. The for-
mer of these not only displays before us what is beautiful or
striking, but he produces emotion in us, because we perceive
that he himself is moved. The spell which he has formed
seizes on himself, and he draws us within its influence. The
language of the poet is not that of description merely, but of
sentiment and passion. Many of his epithets are of the kind
before mentioned, which tell us not what objects are in them-
selves, but what they are in their effects; not what they are as
seen, but what they are as felt. It is to this enthusiasm of the
poet, of which we are speaking, that the following passage of
the Minstrel owes not a little of its effect:

"O how canst thou renounce the boundless store
Of charms which Nature to her votary yields!

See his Life of Pope.

The warbling woodland, the resounding shore,
The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields;
All that the genial ray of morning gilds,

And all that echoes to the song of even,

All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,

And all the dread magnificence of heaven,

O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven!"

To some readers of poetry, sympathy with the poet, we believe, constitutes not unfrequently their principal pleasure. They are delighted with fine passages, whose meaning they indistinctly comprehend, and carried away not so much by the objects presented to their mind, as by the enthusiasm with which they are displayed. To the most cultivated and intelligent however, the general character which an author discovers, and the feelings which he displays on particular occasions, may be among the chief sources of pleasure from his writings.

We have thus by the examples of a natural landscape, of its representation in painting, and of its description in poetry, endeavoured to shew, what are some of the sources from which the pleasures of taste are derived, and what is the character of these pleasures. They may, we see, be derived from the perception of utility, as formerly mentioned; from the natural beauty, or in other words, the forms, colors, and motions of objects; from the contemplation of human happiness, and still more from the contemplation of human virtue and excellence; from thoughts of God, of his goodness and wisdom, and of ourselves in our connexion with him; from the perception of resemblance with strong dissimilitude; from admiration of skill and power; from the nice adaptation of words to the meaning intended to be expressed; from the harmony of verse; and from the discovery which a poet makes to us of his mind and feelings. Some of these different sources of the pleasures of taste are, it is evident, in themselves wholly distinct and dissimilar. They can affect us through no common principle or capacity of our nature. They have nothing in common which does not belong to every other class of objects or qualities, whose perception or contemplation affords us pleasure.

By analyses such as the preceding, we think it may be made

evident, that we have no capacity of enjoying pleasure from the objects of nature or art, as perceived or contemplated, through which the pleasures of taste may not be received, and that there are no sources of pleasure in these objects, so considered, by which they may not be afforded. Thus far, as we have mentioned, our conclusions coincide with those of Mr. Alison. But we think it may further be made to appear, partly at least, by such analyses, that there is no class of innocent pleasures derived from the perception or contemplation of such objects, to which the pleasures of taste may not belong; and that there is no essential distinction between them and any other, derived from the same sources; that, abstractly considered, what is PLEASING in an object when perceived or contemplated is what

18 BEAUTIFUL.

In these conclusions, we are supported by the high authority of Mr. Stewart in his Essay of the Beautiful. Their defence indeed is by no means the purpose of his Essay; but in a part of it he thus expresses himself: "The conjectures," he says, "of various modern writers, concerning the principles upon which different forms produce their effects, and the conclusions of some of them (particularly of Hogarth) with respect to the waving line, do great honor to their ingenuity, and may probably admit, in some of the arts, of very useful practical applications: but philosophical distinctness, as well as universal practice, requires, that the meaning of the word Beauty, instead of being restricted in conformity to any partial system whatever, should continue to be the generic word for expressing every quality, which, in the works either of nature or of art, contributes to render them agreeable to the eye.”

Mr. Stewart supposes the word beautiful, by a process of generalization, to be extended to all the pleasing qualities, of which material objects are expressive; to all the agreeable images of poetry, and to all the other causes of delight, which poetry affords; to every thing, which gives us pleasure in the objects of nature or art.-"As the word Beauty," he says, "is naturally transferred from colors and forms to the other pleasing qualities, which may be associated with these, and to the vari ous moral qualities of which they may be expressive; so the