the emotion of sublimity which we feel is greatly increased by such suggestions. Few simple sounds are thought to have more of sublimity than the report of a cannon; but how different, how much greater the strength of feeling than on other occasions, whenever we hear it coming to us from the fields of actual conflict! Many sounds, which are in themselves inconsiderable, and are not much different from many others, to which we do not attach the character of sublimity, become highly sublime by association. There is frequently a low, feeble sound preceding the coming of a storm which has this character.

"Along the woods, along the moorish fens,
Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm,
Resounding long in fancy's listening ear.

THOMSON'S Winter.

It is sometimes the case, that people whose sensibilities are much alive to thunder mistake it for some common sounds, such as the noise of a carriage, or the rumbling of a cart. While they are under this mistake, they feel these sounds as sublime, because they associate with them all those ideas of danger and of mighty power which they customarily associate with thunder. The hoot of the owl at midnight is sublime chiefly by association; also the scream of the eagle, heard amid rocks and deserts. The latter is particularly expressive of fierce and lonely independence, and both are connected in our remembrance with some striking poetical passages.

§ 67. Further illustrations of sublimity from association.

The same results will be found to hold good in other cases. The sight of heavy and broken masses of dark clouds, driven about by the wind, is sublime. But how much more fruitful of emotion to those who, in the days of Fingal and Ossian, saw them, in their prolific imaginations, peopled with the ghosts of the dead; with the assemblies of those whose renown had continued to live long after their bodies had returned to the dust!"Temora's woods shook with the blast

of the inconstant wind. A cloud gathered in the west. A red star looked from behind its edge. I stood in the wood alone; I saw a ghost in the darkened air; his stride extended from hill to hill. His shield was dim on his side. It was the son of Semo."

I once stood at the base of the Egyptian pyramids, and can bear testimony that it is impossible to behold such vast efforts of human power and be unmoved. The emotion, in view of the object itself, is sublime. But the strength of the feelings which were experienced was greatly increased by means of the deeply impressive recollection, that those vast piles had stood unshaken, while successive generations flourished and perished at their feet; and by their being connected with many ideas of ancient magnificence, and with the suggestion of once renowned but now unknown kings and conquerors. I went from Egypt to Arabia Petræa, and ascended the heights of Mount Sinai. And in looking abroad from the summit of this vast rocky pile, the soul dilated and heaved like a tempest with the immensity of the objects beneath and around it. But not more, I think, in view of what was seen, than in consequence of the greatness of the past, and its wonderful experiences and histories, which were made present by associated recollection.

CHAPTER V.

NATURE OF INTELLECTUAL TÀSTE.

§ 68. Definition of taste, and some of its characteristics. At this point in the examination of the Sensibilities, we turn aside for a moment to consider a subject which is closely and indissolubly connected with those emotions which have thus far received our attention; we refer to intellectual TASTE. It is sometimes the case, that a strong light is thrown upon a subject by the mere position which it occupies in reference to oth

*Ossian, Epic Poem of Temora, bk. i.

er topics closely related to it. It is for this reason that the subject of taste, one both philosophically and practically of great importance, is introduced in this immediate connexion.

If we were required to give a definition, we should say that Taste, in the most general sense of the term, is the power of judging of the beauty or deformity of objects, founded on the experience of emotions, particularly those of beauty, grandeur, and sublimity.

In view of this definition there are two things to be noticed.-(1.) Taste is not a Sentient, but an Intellectual power; its decisions, although, in consequence of its close connexion with the feelings, it may often seem to be otherwise, are not acts of the Heart, but of the Understanding. So that, in the arrangement of the mental powers, notwithstanding its introduction here, it belongs strictly to the First rather than the Second great division of the mind.-(2.) Taste, as is obviously implied in the definition, is not an original power, distinct from every other, and having a nature of its own, but seems to be rather a modification or form of the Judgment. It differs from other exhibitions of the Judgment merely in the circumstance of its being exercised in a particular way, viz., in view of certain emotions and the causes of these emotions. In accordance with this view, an old English writer has correctly said, "What we call taste is a kind of extempore judgment; it is a settled habit of distinguishing, without staying to attend to rules or ratiocination, and arises from long use and experience.'

§ 69. Distinguishable from mere quickness of feeling or sensibility. If taste be an intellectual power, originating in the understanding rather than the heart, then it seems to follow, and is unquestionably the fact, that it is not to be confounded with mere quickness of feeling, with mere sensibility. At the same time, it is to be recollected that there is no taste which is absolutely exclusive of sensibility; and that, though they are not iden* Hughes, as quoted by Stewart, Essay iii., chap. iii.

tical, they are closely connected together. Without any degree of sensibility, there would be no possibility of emotion; and, consequently, as it is the peculiarity of taste, the very thing which constitutes it what it is, to sit in judgment on emotions, the extinction of the sensibility involves the extinction of taste. And it is for this reason we are led to say that they are closely connected, although they are not identical.

And that they are not identical is not only obvious from the fact that the sentient and the intellectual, the understanding and the heart, are in their nature necessarily distinct from each other, but also from the fact that we sometimes find men of great sensibility, who are acknowledged by common consent to be deficient in the other attribute. Indeed, the excess of their sensibility seems in some cases to be an obstacle in the way of the perfection of their taste; the very cause of that deficiency of taste which they are perceived to manifest. When the excitement of feeling attendant on viewing an object is very great, it is a matter of course that the powers of perception and judgment, which are employed in the examination of its qualities considered as the cause of this internal excitement, will be perplexed and hindered. So that it is sometimes necessary to check for a time the tide of feeling, to contract and embank the fountains of sensibility, in order that the taste, which penetrates back of feeling into the causes and conditions of feeling, may suitably discharge its appropriate office.

§ 70. Of the process involved in the formation of taste.

Although every man of entire sanity of mind possesses the materials or elements which are prerequisite to taste, yet not every man is spoken of and regarded as possessing the thing itself. The materials must be moulded into a certain shape, the elements must be compacted into a specific form, before they will be considered as entitling their possessor to the honour of that valuable attribute. When we speak of a man of taste, we imply in the expressions that he

has a knowledge of, and is able to foretell, with a considerable degree of accuracy, what works will be found generally pleasing, or the opposite. This ability, as it exists in the man of taste, has sometimes been thought to be original or implanted; but it is not so. Generally speaking, it is the result of a long, and frequently a laborious process of induction. He who aspires to the possession of this power must condescend, as preparatory to obtaining it, to subject his judgment to a course of training and discipline. Accordingly, he contemplates the works of nature and art, first, in reference to himself; he examines the nature of the emotions which are excited in his own bosom, whether of beauty or of a different kind, and is thus enabled to decide, so far as he is himself concerned, whether the object is to be regarded as beautiful or not. He accordingly sets down some objects and qualities of objects as pleasing, others as displeasing; or, what is the same thing, he characterizes some as beautiful and others as deformed; and others, again, as possessing the marks of grandeur or of sublimity.

Not only this, he endeavours to ascertain the impressions which the same objects make upon the minds of others, and carefully compares the result of this inquiry with his own feelings, in order the more effectually to exclude from his decisions the possibility of mistake. In this way, sustained by the emotions of his own heart and the concurrent feelings of others, he is enabled to detect and to point out, in regard to a particular object, not merely the general fact of its beauty, but the elements of it; in other words, the specific things and relations in the object on which its beauty is based. Having frequently repeated this process in respect to those objects which happen to come within his particular province or department, he becomes so familiar with the principles of beauty and sublimity within its limits, that he is, to that extent at least, regarded as a man of taste a reputation which it is vain to suppose can be secured without some such process of repeated examination and comparison.