beauties of nature and of art, and yet be destitute of taste, and that a man, ignorant of both, may possess it in the highest degree. It is no argument to say, that the connoisseur would have felt as much pleasure as either of his friends in contemplating the paintings when he returned to the Louvre, if he had not exhausted himself with too much exertion; for a thousand other circumstances might have prevented him from enjoying the least delight in these paintings; and if these circumstances should continue for life, they would always exercise their influence over him, so that it could never be known that he was a man of taste, because he never evinced that pleasure in which it is made to consist, though his acquaintance with the beauties of art might have been generally known and admired.

Nothing, indeed, can be more certain, than that men of the most exquisite taste, confining the term, as I have done, to the mere power of discriminating beauty, are not always those who are most strongly affected by its influence; and I am inclined to think, that very satisfactory reasons may be adduced to shew, that the best judges cannot be the most ardent admirers of beauty. Of all other attainments, taste requires the highest degree of cultivation : sensibility, of all our natural endowments, requires the least. It is so tender a plant, that any attempt to improve, only

serves to injure it,-to strip it of that keen and eager susceptibility of delight which it has received from nature. In proportion as we inquire into its properties, and the causes by which it is apt to be excited, we render it less disposed to yield to them, though we extend our knowledge, and become better acquainted with these exciting causes. As the qualities of beauty are among the causes which affect our natural sensibility, it must therefore follow, that in proportion as we become more and more acquainted with these qualities, and the manner in which they excite their peculiar emotions, in the same proportion do we render this tender faculty less disposed to give way to their influence. When the young warrior first engages in a military life, every wound awakens his compassion; the expiring hero recalls to his mind all the tender recollections that cling to humanity; and his rage yielding to the sweetest of all voices, the voice of a common nature, and softened by feelings which he cannot control, he stoops to offer the last tribute of unavailing kindness to the agonizing brave. How different are the indurated feelings of the old veteran, to whom scenes of havock and destruction have long rendered death familiar in all its terrific and subduing aspects. Thus it is that the native sensibilities of the heart will neither endure to be

frequently exercised, nor too philosophically examined. Taste, on the contrary, requires the highest degree of cultivation; because correct ideas of beauty can only be acquired by frequently comparing different models of grace and elegance, and by consulting the state of our own feelings at the time, and the manner in which we are apt to be affected by each model which we place before us. "To acquire delicacy of taste," says Lord Kames, "a man must grow old in examining beauties and deformities." The effect of this perpetual recurrence to, and examination of our feelings, is, as I have just observed, to deprive them of their natural susceptibility of impressions, so that, by the time taste is become perfect, sensibility, in many persons, is worn to a skeleton. Hence it is, that when men arrive at correct ideas of beauty, they are least qualified to enjoy the pleasure which it is calculated to impart. We might, therefore, be led to suppose, that much sensibility is unfavourable to taste; and this supposition seems to be adopted by Mr. Stuart, where he says, that "a more than ordinary share of sensibility is apt to be regarded as pretty strong evidence of some deficiency in taste." I am inclined to think, however, that those who have originally the greatest portion of natural sensibility, have, ultimately, the most correct ideas of natural beauty; or, in other words, the

most refined and elegant taste, if they are equally attentive to its cultivation.

Our ideas of beauty are obviously derived from those pleasing and delightful emotions which it excites in the mind; but as it is difficult to awaken these emotions in a man who possesses but little natural sensibility, so must such a man not only have most difficulty in arriving at just ideas of the qualities that belong to it, because he has most difficulty in consulting those feelings from which its perceptions are derived, but also his small stock of natural sensibility is long exhausted before he can acquire an idea of those more perfect forms of beauty to which only a refined and cultivated taste can ever arrive. This refined and cultivated taste can, therefore, be acquired only by men who have originally a great portion of natural sensibility, however this original portion may be afterwards diminished, or the keenness of its delights tempered and modified by the cultivation of taste.

Had Mr. Stuart attended to this truth, he would not have been led into so important an error on the subject of taste. Too much sensibility he considers unfavourable to taste, but yet makes a certain portion of it necessary to the attainment of a refined taste. What this certain portion is, he does not attempt to define: he only thinks that too small a portion of it is as unfavourable to a

refined taste as too much. To this supposition he was, no doubt, led, by perceiving that those who have little natural sensibility, have never acquired a correct and elegant taste; and that, on the other hand, he saw this correct and elegant taste as seldom united to an ardent and glowing sensibility. It is certain, however, that whatever portion of sensibility nature has imparted to any man, it may exist during life, unaccompanied by taste, if its possessor does not give himself the habit of attending to the manner in which he finds himself affected by different models, or forms of beauty, so that taste is not necessarily connected with sensibility in any of its degrees; and he who gives himself this habit of attention will soon find his natural sensibility less "feelingly alive to each fine impulse," so that, as I have already observed, by the time his taste is completely formed, that extreme ardour of feeling which he experienced in his more untutored years, is less sensibly felt, or rather it is now ripened into a manly and rational habit of estimating, through the medium of reason and experience, and not through the delusive colouring of a glowing imagination, the just degree of influence which the beauties of nature and of art ought to possess over him. The chaste, manly, and elevated feelings which a man experiences after his taste is formed, compared to those which