if we suppose nature equally impartial in the distribution of her gifts, and as propitious to those who move unnoticed and unknown in the obscure privacy of humble life, as to those whom fortune, more partial and capricious in the distribution of her gifts, has distinguished by her favours, we must necessarily conclude, that those who dazzle mankind by the splendour and brilliancy of their genius, are far less in number than those who would have done so, had they the same facilities to assist their progress in the pursuits of science :

“But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Burna Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unrol;

Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,

And froze the genial current of the soul."

As genius, then, is frequently destined to droop unseen, "and waste its sweetness in the desert air," it is obvious that it may exist without learning; and it is equally obvious, that a man may possess a very considerable and even extensive portion of learning without a particle of pure genius. Taste, then, is to sensibility, what learning is to genius. Taste and learning may be acquired sensibility and genius cannot. A man may possess much learning and taste who has neither genius nor sensibility, but then he has no certainty how far his learning or his taste is

correct. He is acquainted with the thoughts of other men, so far he is learned; he is acquainted with such models of beauty as are most generally approved of, so far he possesses taste, and is a connoisseur; and I believe it will be generally found, that a man possessing this knowledge, believes himself well entitled to pass for a man of taste; but though he is thus acquainted with the dogmas, sentiments, and opinions of other men, and with those forms of grace and beauty that are generally deemed most excellent, he is totally unacquainted with the truth of these dogmas, sentiments, and opinions, or the correctness of those models which are approved of by others, unless he possess those original faculties, not only of perceiving what others teach, but also of discerning how far their doctrines are agreeable to truth; and not only of committing to memory those models of beauty which are most highly esteemed, but also of feeling how far these models are adapted to awaken in us those emotions of pleasure or delight, which the original and instinctive beauties of nature are calculated to excite. Taste and learning may therefore exist to a very considerable degree without sensibility or genius, but can never be perfect where the latter are absent, because in this case we only know what others know, without any certainty that their knowledge is founded in truth.

If, then, it appear from what I have advanced, that taste does not consist in the mere power of receiving pleasure from the beauties of nature or of art, that this power may exist without taste, and that none are more likely to be deceived, than those who blindly trust to their own immediate feelings, it will naturally be asked, how are we to acquire that perception of beauty in which taste consists; and when acquired, what means have we of ascertaining that it is more correct than the perceptions of those who differ with us in opinion? The discussion of this question will form the subject of the ensuing chapter.

CHAP. III.

On the Standard of Taste.

THE standard of taste, or the discovery of some unerring criterion to which we might refer all our disputes on matters of taste, and from which there could be no ultimate appeal, has long exercised and baffled the researches, of philosophy, and the acumen of genius. It is, however, certain, that if this standard could be discovered, it would be of as little use as the standard of truth. We all acknowledge that truth consists in representing the proper and distinct nature of things; but the difficulty still remains of finding out this proper nature. It is so with taste : we must all acknowledge, that the common feeling of mankind is the ultimate tribunal to which we should appeal; but the same difficulty still presents itself that impedes the progress of our researches after truth; namely, the difficulty of finding out this common feeling. The proper subject of our inquiries should therefore be, what faculties of our nature

should be exercised, in forming such a judgment of the beauty or ugliness of any particular object, as would agree with the common feeling of mankind. If we mistake the proper course which ought to be pursued, in acquiring this knowledge, or discriminating perception, we can scarcely flatter ourselves with the hope of ever attaining it. Here, however, a great diversity of sentiment prevails, some maintaining one opinion, and some another. This diversity of sentiment seems to have entirely arisen from two fundamental errors, which, if they be errors, must have a very considerable influence in determining the theories that have been adopted, on an assumption of their truth. The first is that mistaken idea of the nature and office of taste which I have endeavoured to correct, in the first chapter of this work; the second, an erroneous idea of the proper nature of reason, when employed on subjects of taste, and in considering it, as forming all its conclusions from abstract premises, without any previous reference to feeling or sentiment. No writer has taken a more profound and philosophic view of the nature of taste than D'Alembert; and his Essay on the subject proves him not only a profound thinker, but a refined and elegant writer, who possessed, in a very eminent degree, that discriminating perception in which taste consists. I cannot, however, help