休謨 《論品位的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)》
大衛(wèi)·休謨(1711—1776)
大衛(wèi)·休謨,蘇格蘭人,18世紀(jì)英國(guó)政治學(xué)家、經(jīng)驗(yàn)主義哲學(xué)家、歷史學(xué)家和作家。他和當(dāng)時(shí)的著名學(xué)者盧梭、亞當(dāng)·斯密是好友。休謨?nèi)ナ篮?,他的自傳由亞?dāng)·斯密安排出版。休謨是18世紀(jì)有重要影響的哲學(xué)家和經(jīng)濟(jì)學(xué)家,他對(duì)因果推理問(wèn)題的批判啟發(fā)了德國(guó)思想家康德創(chuàng)立“批判”哲學(xué)。他還推動(dòng)了19世紀(jì)法國(guó)數(shù)學(xué)家和哲學(xué)家孔德提出實(shí)證哲學(xué)。他寫(xiě)的6卷本《英國(guó)史》(1754—1762)使他名揚(yáng)英國(guó)。在18世紀(jì)的英國(guó),他是哲學(xué)的象征。20世紀(jì)中葉,英國(guó)的反形而上學(xué)家認(rèn)為他是世界上少數(shù)幾個(gè)杰出的哲學(xué)家之一。
休謨和伯克一樣,深受17世紀(jì)英國(guó)哲學(xué)家約翰·洛克的影響。他把洛克的經(jīng)驗(yàn)主義發(fā)展到絕對(duì)懷疑主義,認(rèn)為一切觀(guān)念均源于印象,任何有關(guān)事實(shí)的論證都是徒勞的。他寫(xiě)的《人類(lèi)理解力研究》試圖確定人類(lèi)認(rèn)識(shí)的原則。他認(rèn)為,不可能有超越經(jīng)驗(yàn)的關(guān)于任何事物的知識(shí)。作為經(jīng)驗(yàn)主義者,他強(qiáng)調(diào)感覺(jué)和經(jīng)驗(yàn)的重要性。他說(shuō):“所有藝術(shù)的一般規(guī)則都建立在經(jīng)驗(yàn)上,建立在人性共有的感情上?!?/p>
他把哲學(xué)看成是歸納的、實(shí)驗(yàn)的人性科學(xué),是描述心靈是如何獲得知識(shí)的。他認(rèn)為,印象是感覺(jué)的終極材料,觀(guān)念是這些材料的復(fù)合、變換、擴(kuò)大或縮減。
作為政治經(jīng)濟(jì)學(xué)家,他反對(duì)商業(yè)制度,堅(jiān)持金錢(qián)與財(cái)富的區(qū)別。
休謨很少專(zhuān)題論述藝術(shù)和美學(xué)原則。他的主要興趣是人的心理活動(dòng)。只是在心理活動(dòng)同藝術(shù)發(fā)生關(guān)系時(shí),他才議論藝術(shù)。18世紀(jì)人們對(duì)讀者和觀(guān)眾在欣賞文學(xué)和藝術(shù)時(shí)的心理活動(dòng)表現(xiàn)出濃厚的興趣。休謨的《論品位的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)》就是從心理學(xué)的角度探討這個(gè)問(wèn)題。他感興趣的不是文學(xué)藝術(shù)作品本身應(yīng)有的品質(zhì),而是讀者應(yīng)具備什么品質(zhì),才能欣賞文學(xué)藝術(shù)作品。
他還提出,時(shí)間可以改變?nèi)藢?duì)文學(xué)藝術(shù)作品的評(píng)價(jià),因?yàn)槿说乃枷胗^(guān)念和道德觀(guān)念、情趣和愛(ài)好是隨著時(shí)間的推移發(fā)生變化的。不同年齡的人對(duì)文學(xué)作品的興趣也不同:20歲的青年人可能喜歡奧維德(Ovid)的作品;40歲的中年人可能欣賞賀拉斯的作品;50歲的人則可能愛(ài)讀羅馬歷史學(xué)家塔西佗(Tacitus)的作品;而不同國(guó)度的人對(duì)文學(xué)藝術(shù)作品的欣賞程度和評(píng)價(jià)也不同。美國(guó)人不可能像法國(guó)人那樣喜愛(ài)拉辛(Racine)。法國(guó)人不可能像英語(yǔ)國(guó)家的人民那樣能理解和喜愛(ài)莎士比亞的作品。
休謨的文論強(qiáng)調(diào)讀者的心理和經(jīng)驗(yàn),對(duì)古典的理性主義哲學(xué)的論點(diǎn)提出異議。《論品位的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)》是他寫(xiě)的著名文論。
他的主要哲學(xué)著作是《人性論》(1734—1737),書(shū)共分三卷。第一卷《論理智》(后改名為《人類(lèi)理解力研究》,1748)闡明人的認(rèn)識(shí)過(guò)程,描述觀(guān)念的起源、空間和時(shí)間的觀(guān)念,因果關(guān)系以及關(guān)于感覺(jué)的懷疑主義。第二卷為《論人的情感》。第三卷是《論道德》(后改名為《道德原則研究》,1751)。
內(nèi)容提要
休謨首先提出,如同人對(duì)事物的看法不同,人的品位也是多種多樣的,其差異也大相徑庭。什么是美,什么是丑,各人的看法不盡相同,甚至有很大差異。人人都贊揚(yáng)一篇文章的優(yōu)雅、貼切、簡(jiǎn)練和氣魄,批評(píng)文章中的空洞、浮夸和矯揉造作、冷漠無(wú)情、虛假的光彩奪目。就文章的總體而論,批評(píng)家的看法是一致的。但是在文章的具體方面,批評(píng)家的看法就不同了。在不同的時(shí)代,不同的國(guó)度,作家都一致贊揚(yáng)仁義、高尚、謹(jǐn)慎、誠(chéng)實(shí),批評(píng)那些與此相反的品質(zhì),這說(shuō)明人的情感是相同的。
有必要找出品位的標(biāo)準(zhǔn),找出一種規(guī)則,使人的不同情感能協(xié)調(diào)一致,使大家對(duì)哪種情感可取,哪種情感不可取,有一個(gè)可以遵循的準(zhǔn)則。人的判斷與情感不同,對(duì)一個(gè)事物就可能有千百種不同的意見(jiàn)。但是,正確和公正的意見(jiàn)只可能有一個(gè)。難就難在如何找出并確定這一正確意見(jiàn)。情感則不同。一個(gè)物體可能引起人的千百種情感,這千百種情感都是合乎情理的。
美作為一種品質(zhì)并不存在于物體本身,它存在于人的心目中。美是人看到物體時(shí)在心中油然而生的一種感受。某人在一個(gè)物體上看到的是丑陋,而另一個(gè)人看到的則是美。可見(jiàn),人對(duì)美和丑的情感是不同的;審美標(biāo)準(zhǔn)是多極的,不穩(wěn)定的。雖然休謨堅(jiān)信確有普遍的情趣標(biāo)準(zhǔn),但是他承認(rèn)要找到真正的美和丑的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)是徒勞的。他說(shuō):“我們徒勞地尋找可以用來(lái)調(diào)和各種矛盾情感的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)?!?/p>
詩(shī)中的美往往是建立在虛構(gòu)、夸張、隱喻或歪曲詩(shī)的用詞的原意之上。如果禁止使用任何富有想象力的詼諧妙語(yǔ),刻意把每句話(huà)都寫(xiě)得像幾何學(xué)那樣準(zhǔn)確,那是違背批評(píng)學(xué)的規(guī)律的。但是,雖然詩(shī)可以脫離準(zhǔn)確的真實(shí)性,卻不能超越藝術(shù)的規(guī)則。這種藝術(shù)規(guī)則或者是因?yàn)樽髡哂刑觳牛鷣?lái)就掌握,或者是因?yàn)樽髡呱朴谟^(guān)察。
雖然藝術(shù)的一般規(guī)則是建立在經(jīng)驗(yàn)和對(duì)人性共同情感的觀(guān)察上,但是我們不能設(shè)想在所有情況下作家對(duì)這些規(guī)則都感到滿(mǎn)意。人的感情受內(nèi)心和外部環(huán)境的影響;它是十分纖細(xì)、微妙的。如果外部環(huán)境不好,或作者的心境不好,就會(huì)直接影響創(chuàng)作。因此,創(chuàng)作時(shí)既要有良好的外部環(huán)境,也要有良好的心境。所謂良好的心境就是平和的心緒,思想的集中,對(duì)審美對(duì)象的全神貫注。唯如此,才能發(fā)現(xiàn)物體的美。
有的作品的美能經(jīng)久不衰,如荷馬的史詩(shī)在兩千多年前受到希臘人和羅馬人的喜愛(ài),至今在巴黎和倫敦仍是人們敬佩的杰作。世事滄桑,但歲月仍不能淹沒(méi)他的偉大的作品的光彩。所以,真正的美是經(jīng)得起時(shí)間的考驗(yàn)的。偏見(jiàn)和忌妒也不能抹殺美。
由此可見(jiàn),盡管品位繁多,且變幻無(wú)常,但是什么值得贊揚(yáng),什么應(yīng)該批評(píng),總是有規(guī)可循的。
品位實(shí)為一種判斷,而判斷本質(zhì)上是依靠經(jīng)驗(yàn)而不是依賴(lài)?yán)硇?。藝術(shù)的原則是建立在經(jīng)驗(yàn)上的。是經(jīng)驗(yàn),而不是理性,告訴我們什么給我們帶來(lái)愉快,什么給我們帶來(lái)痛苦。這同判斷正確與謬誤不同。
要發(fā)現(xiàn)藝術(shù)的規(guī)則,讀者和批評(píng)家必須依靠“人性共同的情感”。但是一個(gè)批評(píng)家的情感往往受到時(shí)間、地點(diǎn)和環(huán)境的影響。確定品位的標(biāo)準(zhǔn),必須有“一種完全平和的心境”,亦即人的心境處于一種心平氣和的狀態(tài)。在這種心境中,人擺脫了盛怒、偏見(jiàn),不迎合時(shí)尚。只有這樣,人才能集中思想對(duì)鑒賞的物體進(jìn)行仔細(xì)的品味,發(fā)揮自己的想象力。
要有情感,要對(duì)事物作出正確的判斷,自然需要人的感官處于正常狀態(tài)。發(fā)高燒的人嘗不出香味;害黃疸病的人看不清顏色。就內(nèi)心而言,缺乏想象力的人也不可能看到事物的美。味覺(jué)好,才能品味出混雜在一起的各種差別細(xì)微的味道。精神上的品位也一樣。精神品位強(qiáng)的人一眼就能看出物體的美和丑。因此,完美的人必然具有完美的感覺(jué)和感情。
要能欣賞、判斷美,就需要不斷實(shí)踐,即對(duì)不同類(lèi)別的美進(jìn)行比較。有比較才能鑒別。對(duì)各種美不進(jìn)行比較的人是沒(méi)有資格對(duì)美發(fā)表意見(jiàn)的。而批評(píng)家要正確地判斷物體的美也必須不抱任何偏見(jiàn)。除了對(duì)美的載體進(jìn)行檢驗(yàn)和鑒別外,不讓任何雜念進(jìn)入自己的頭腦。偏見(jiàn)對(duì)正確的判斷具有破壞性,阻礙智力機(jī)能的運(yùn)作,腐蝕我們的審美情感和審美力。
因此,雖然品位的原則是普遍的,對(duì)所有的人說(shuō)來(lái)幾乎都是一樣的,但是極少有人有資格對(duì)所有的藝術(shù)作品都作出判斷,或者能把他們的情感看作是美的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)。因?yàn)槿说膬?nèi)心感受能力很難達(dá)到完美無(wú)缺的境地。如果批評(píng)家不敏銳,他就不能觀(guān)察到許多細(xì)微的特點(diǎn)。如果他的判斷力沒(méi)有足夠的實(shí)踐,在判斷時(shí)就會(huì)出現(xiàn)困惑和猶豫。如果不進(jìn)行比較,那些毫無(wú)價(jià)值的美,甚至是缺陷而不是美,倒成了被贊美的對(duì)象。如果批評(píng)者有偏見(jiàn),他所有的自然情感都會(huì)遭到破壞。如果感覺(jué)遲鈍,他也不可能鑒賞美。因此,高超的批評(píng)家應(yīng)具備以下特點(diǎn):敏銳的觀(guān)察力、實(shí)踐、比較、無(wú)偏見(jiàn)和靈敏的感官。
這樣的批評(píng)家哪里去找?休謨自己也難以作出回答。
品位的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)也并不像它看起來(lái)那樣容易確定。
什么是美,什么是丑,其界限有時(shí)難以分清。原因有二:一是人的性情不同。二是不同的時(shí)代不同的國(guó)家有著不同的風(fēng)俗習(xí)慣和規(guī)矩,因此對(duì)事物也就存在著不同的看法。雖然休謨堅(jiān)信有普遍的品位標(biāo)準(zhǔn),但是由于上述差異的存在,普遍的品位標(biāo)準(zhǔn)是難以找到的。他承認(rèn),某些審美的矛盾簡(jiǎn)直是不可能解決的。他舉例說(shuō),年輕人血?dú)夥絼偅匀灰诪闇厝?、性?ài)的形象所動(dòng)。而年事較高者則喜歡哲學(xué)思考,考慮處世哲學(xué)和節(jié)制情欲。人的品位不同:有的人更喜愛(ài)崇高美,有的人更喜愛(ài)溫柔美,有的人則喜歡開(kāi)玩笑。批評(píng)家不能憑自己的喜好來(lái)判斷優(yōu)劣美丑。
David Hume (1711—1776)
Of the Standard of Taste
The great variety of taste, as well as of opinion, which prevails in the world, is too obvious not to have fallen under everyone's observation. Men of the most confined knowledge are able to remark a difference of taste in the narrow circle of their acquaintance, even where the persons have been educated under the same government, and have early imbibed the same prejudices. But those, who can enlarge their view to contemplate distant nations and remote ages, are still more surprised at the great inconsistence and contrariety. We are apt to call barbarous whatever departs widely from our own taste and apprehension: but soon find the epithet of reproach retorted on us. And the highest arrogance and self-conceit is at last startled, on observing an equal assurance on all sides, and scruples, amidst such a contest of sentiment, to pronounce positively in its own favor.
As this variety of taste is obvious to the most careless inquirer; so will it be found, on examination, to be still greater in reality than in appearance. The sentiments of men often differ with regard to beauty and deformity of all kinds, even while their general discourse is the same. There are certain terms in every language, which import blame, and others praise; and all men, who use the same tongue, must agree in their application of them. Every voice is united in applauding elegance, propriety, simplicity, spirit in writing; and in blaming fustian, affectation, coldness, and a false brilliancy: but when critics come to particulars, this seeming unanimity vanishes; and it is found, that they had affixed a very different meaning to their expressions. In all matters of opinion and science, the case is opposite: The difference among men is there oftener found to lie in generals than in particulars; and to be less in reality than in appearance. An explanation of the terms commonly ends the controversy; and the disputants are surprised to find, that they had been quarreling, while at bottom they agreed in their judgment.
Those who found morality on sentiment, more than on reason, are inclined to comprehend ethics under the former observation, and to maintain, that, in all questions, which regard conduct and manners, the difference among men is really greater than at first sight it appears. It is indeed obvious that writers of all nations and all ages concur in applauding justice, humanity, magnanimity, prudence, veracity; and in blaming the opposite qualities. Even poets and other authors, whose compositions are chiefly calculated to please the imagination, are yet found, from Homer down to Fénelon, to inculcate the same moral precepts, and to bestow their applause and blame on the same virtues and vices. This great unanimity is usually ascribed to the influence of plain reason; which, in all these cases, maintains similar sentiments in all men, and prevents those controversies, to which the abstract sciences are so much exposed. So far as the unanimity is real, this account may be admitted as satisfactory: but we must also allow that some part of the seeming harmony in morals may be accounted for from the very nature of language. The word virtue, with its equivalent in every tongue, implies praise; as that of vice does blame: And no one, without the most obvious and grossest impropriety, could affix reproach to a term, which in general acceptation is understood in a good sense; or bestow applause, where the idiom requires disapprobation. Homer's general precepts, where he delivers any such, will never be controverted; but it is obvious, that, when he draws particular pictures of manners, and represents heroism in Achilles and prudence in Ulysses, he intermixes a much greater degree of ferocity in the former, and of cunning and fraud in the latter, than Fénelon would admit of. The sage Ulysses in the Greek poet seems to delight in lies and fictions, and often employs them without any necessity or even advantage: But his more scrupulous son, in the French epic writer, exposes himself to the most imminent perils, rather than depart from the most exact line of truth and veracity.
The admirers and followers of the Alcoran insist on the excellent moral precepts interspersed throughout that wild and absurd performance. But it is to be supposed, that the Arabic words, which correspond to the English, equity, justice, temperance, meekness, charity, were such as, from the constant use of that tongue, must always be taken in a good sense; and it would have argued the greatest ignorance, not of morals, but of language, to have mentioned them with any epithets, besides those of applause and approbation. But would we know, whether the pretended prophet had really attained a just sentiment of morals? Let us attend to his narration; and we shall soon find, that he bestows praise on such instances of treachery, inhumanity, cruelty, revenge, bigotry, as are utterly incompatible with civilized society. No steady rule of right seems there to be attained to; and every action is blamed or praised, so far only as it is beneficial or hurtful to the true believers.
The merit of delivering true general precepts in ethics is indeed very small. Whoever recommends any moral virtues, really does no more than is implied in the terms themselves. That people, who invented the word charity, and used it in a good sense, inculcated more clearly and much more efficaciously, the precept, "be charitable, " than any pretended legislator or prophet, who should insert such a maxim in his writings. Of all expressions, those, which, together with their other meaning, imply a degree either of blame or approbation, are the least liable to be perverted or mistaken.
It is natural for us to seek a standard of taste; a rule by which the various sentiments of men may be reconciled; at least, a decision afforded, confirming one sentiment, and condemning another.
There is a species of philosophy, which cuts off all hopes of success in such an attempt, and represents the impossibility of ever attaining any standard of taste. The difference, it is said, is very wide between judgment and sentiment. All sentiment is right; because sentiment has a reference to nothing beyond itself, and is always real, wherever a man is conscious of it. But all determinations of the understanding are not right; because they have a reference to something beyond themselves, to wit, real matter of fact; and are not always conformable to that standard. Among a thousand different opinions which different men may entertain of the same subject, there is one, and but one, that is just and true; and the only difficulty is to fix and ascertain it. On the contrary, a thousand different sentiments, excited by the same object, are all right: because no sentiment represents what is really in the object. It only marks a certain conformity or relation between the object and the organs or faculties of the mind; and if that conformity did not really exist, the sentiment could never possibly have being. Beauty is no quality in things themselves: it exists merely in the mind which contemplates them; and each mind perceives a different beauty. One person may even perceive deformity, where another is sensible of beauty; and every individual ought to acquiesce in his own sentiment, without pretending to regulate those of others. To seek the real beauty, or real deformity, is as fruitless an inquiry, as to pretend to ascertain the real sweet or real bitter. According to the disposition of the organs, the same object may be both sweet and bitter; and the proverb has justly determined it to be fruitless to dispute concerning tastes. It is very natural, and even quite necessary, to extend this axiom to mental, as well as bodily taste; and thus common sense, which is so often at variance with philosophy, especially with the skeptical kind, is found, in one instance at least, to agree in pronouncing the same decision.
But though this axiom, by passing into a proverb, seems to have attained the sanction of common sense; there is certainly a species of common sense which opposes it, at least serves to modify and restrain it. Whoever would assert an equality of genius and elegance between Ogibly and Milton, or Bunyan and Addison, would be thought to defend no less an extravagance, than if he had maintained a molehill to be as high as Tenerife, or a pond as extensive as the ocean. Though there may be found persons, who give the preference to the former authors, no one pays attention to such a taste; and we pronounce without scruple the sentiment of these pretended critics to be absurd and ridiculous. The principle of the natural equality of tastes is then totally forgot, and while we admit it on some occasions, where the objects seem near an equality, it appears an extravagant paradox, or rather a palpable absurdity, where objects so disproportioned are compared together.
It is evident that none of the rules of composition are fixed by reasoning a priori, or can be esteemed abstract conclusions of the understanding, from comparing those habitudes and relations of ideas, which are eternal and immutable. Their foundation is the same with that of all the practical sciences, experience; nor are they anything but general observations, concerning what has been universally found to please in all countries and in all ages. Many of the beauties of poetry and even of eloquence are founded on falsehood and fiction, on hyperboles, metaphors, and an abuse or perversion of terms from their natural meaning. To check the sallies of the imagination, and to reduce every expression to geometrical truth and exactness, would be the most contrary to the laws of criticism; because it would produce a work, which, by universal experience, has been found the most insipid and disagreeable. But though poetry can never submit to exact truth, it must be confined by rules of art, discovered to the author either by genius or observation. If some negligent or irregular writers have pleased, they have not pleased by their transgressions of rule or order, but in spite of these transgressions: They have possessed other beauties, which were conformable to just criticism; and the force of these beauties has been able to overpower censure, and give the mind a satisfaction superior to the disgust arising from the blemishes. Ariosto pleases; but not by his monstrous and improbable fictions, by his bizarre mixture of the serious and comic styles, by the want of coherence in his stories, or by the continual interruptions of his narration. He charms by the force and clearness of his expression, by the readiness and variety of his inventions, and by his natural pictures of the passions, especially those of the gay and amorous kind: And however his faults may diminish our satisfaction, they are not able entirely to destroy it. Did our pleasure really arise from those parts of his poem, which we denominate faults, this would be no objection to criticism in general: It would only be an objection to those particular rules of criticism, which would establish such circumstances to be faults, and would represent them as universally blamable. If they are found to please, they cannot be faults; let the pleasure, which they produce, be ever so unexpected and unaccountable.
But though all the general rules of art are founded only on experience and on the observation of the common sentiments of human nature, we must not imagine, that, on every occasion, the feelings of men will be conformable to these rules. Those finer emotions of the mind are of a very tender and delicate nature, and require the concurrence of many favorable circumstances to make them play with facility and exactness, according to their general and established principles. The least exterior hindrance to such small springs, or the least internal disorder, disturbs their motion, and confounds the operation of the whole machine. When we would make an experiment of this nature, and would try the force of any beauty or deformity, we must choose with care a proper time and place, and bring the fancy to a suitable situation and disposition. A perfect serenity of mind, a recollection of thought, a due attention to the object; if any of these circumstances be wanting, our experiment will be fallacious, and we shall be unable to judge of the catholic and universal beauty. The relation, which nature has placed between the form and the sentiment, will at least be more obscure; and it will require greater accuracy to trace and discern it. We shall be able to ascertain its influence not so much from the operation of each particular beauty, as from the durable admiration, which attends those works, that have survived all the caprices of mode and fashion, all the mistakes of ignorance and envy.
The same Homer, who pleased at Athens and Rome two thousand years ago, is still admired at Paris and at London. All the changes of climate, government, religion, and language, have not been able to obscure his glory. Authority or prejudice may give a temporary vogue to a bad poet or orator; but his reputation will never be durable or general. When his compositions are examined by posterity or by foreigners, the enchantment is dissipated, and his faults appear in their true colors. On the contrary, a real genius, the longer his works endure, and the more wide they are spread, the more sincere is the admiration which he meets with. Envy and jealousy have too much place in a narrow circle; and even familiar acquaintance with his person may diminish the applause due to his performances: but when these obstructions are removed, the beauties, which are naturally fitted to excite agreeable sentiments, immediately display their energy; and while the world endures, they maintain their authority over the minds of men.
It appears then, that, amidst all the variety and caprice of taste, there are certain general principles of approbation or blame, whose influence a careful eye may trace in all operations of the mind. Some particular forms or qualities, from the original structures of the internal fabric, are calculated to please, and others displease; and if they fail of their effect in any particular instance, it is from some apparent defect or imperfection in the organ. A man in a fever would not insist on his palate as able to decide concerning flavors; nor would one, affected with the jaundice, pretend to give a verdict with regard to colors. In each creature, there is a sound and defective state; and the former alone can be supposed to afford us a true standard of taste and sentiment. If, in the sound state of the organ, there be an entire or a considerable uniformity of sentiment among men, we may thence derive an idea of the perfect beauty; in like manner as the appearance of objects in daylight, to the eye of a man in health, is denominated their true and real color, even while color is allowed to be merely a phantasm of the senses.
Many and frequent are the defects in the internal organs which prevent or weaken the influence of those general principles, on which depends our sentiment of beauty or deformity. Though some objects, by the structure of the mind, be naturally calculated to give pleasure, it is not to be expected, that in every individual the pleasure will be equally felt. Particular incidents and situations occur, which either throw a false light on the objects, or hinder the true from conveying to the imagination the proper sentiment and perception.
One obvious cause, why many feel not the proper sentiment of beauty, is the want of that delicacy of imagination, which is requisite to convey a sensibility of those finer emotions. This delicacy everyone pretends to: everyone talks of it; and would reduce every kind of taste or sentiment to its standard. But as our intention in this essay is to mingle some light of the understanding with the feeling of sentiment, it will be proper to give a more accurate definition of delicacy, than has hitherto been attempted. And not to draw our philosophy from too profound a source, we shall have recourse to a noted story in Don Quixote.
"It is with good reason, " says Sancho to the squire with the great nose, "that I pretend to have a judgment in wine: this is a quality hereditary in our family. Two of my kinsmen were once called to give their opinion of a hogshead, which was supposed to be excellent, being old and of a good vintage. One of them tastes it; considers it; and after mature reflection pronounces the wine to be good, were it not for a small taste of leather, which he perceived in it. The other, after using the same precautions, gives also his verdict in favor of the wine; but with the reserve of a taste of iron, which he could easily distinguish. You cannot imagine how much they were both ridiculed for their judgment. But who laughed in the end? On emptying the hogshead, there was found at the bottom, an old key with a leathern thong tied to it."
The great resemblance between mental and bodily taste will easily teach us to apply this story. Though it be certain that beauty and deformity, more than sweet and bitter, are not qualities in objects, but belong entirely to the sentiment, internal or external; it must be allowed, that there are certain qualities in objects, which are fitted by nature to produce those particular feelings. Now as these qualities may be found in a small degree, or may be mixed and confounded with each other, it often happens, that the taste is not affected with such minute qualities, or is not able to distinguish all the particular flavors, amidst the disorder, in which they are presented. Where the organs are so fine, as to allow nothing to escape them; and at the same time so exact as to perceive every ingredient in the composition: this we call delicacy of taste, where we employ these terms in the literal or metaphorical sense. Here then the general rules of beauty are of use; being drawn from established models, and from the observation of what pleases or displeases, when presented singly and in a high degree: and if the same qualities, in a continued composition and in a smaller degree, affect not the organs with a sensible delight or uneasiness, we exclude the person from all pretensions to this delicacy. To produce these general rules or avowed patterns of composition is like finding the key with the leathern thong; which justified the verdict of Sancho's kinsmen, and confounded those pretended judges who had condemned them. Though the hogshead had never been emptied, the taste of the one was still equally delicate, and that of the other equally dull and languid; but it would have been more difficult to have proved the superiority of the former, to the conviction of every bystander. In like manner, though the beauties of writing had never been methodized, or reduced to general principles; though no excellent models had ever been acknowledged; the different degrees of taste would still have subsisted, and the judgment of one man been preferable to that of another; but it would not have been so easy to silence the bad critic, who might always insist upon his particular sentiment, and refuse to submit to his antagonist. But when we show him an avowed principle of art; when we illustrate this principle by examples, whose operation, from his own particular taste, he acknowledges to be conformable to the principle; when we prove, that the same principle may be applied to the present case, where he did not perceive or feel its influence: he must conclude, upon the whole, that the fault lies in himself, and that he wants the delicacy, which is requisite to make him sensible of every beauty and every blemish, in any composition or discourse.
It is acknowledged to be the perfection of every sense or faculty, to perceive with exactness its most minute objects, and allow nothing to escape its notice and observation. The smaller the objects are, which become sensible to the eye, the finer is that organ, and the more elaborate its make and composition. A good palate is not tried by strong flavors; but by a mixture of small ingredients, where we are still sensible of each part, notwithstanding its minuteness and its confusion with the rest. In like manner, a quick and acute perception of beauty and deformity must be the perfection of our mental taste; nor can a man be satisfied with himself while he suspects, that any excellence or blemish in a discourse has passed him unobserved. In this case, the perfection of the man, and the perfection of the sense or feeling, are found to be united. A very delicate palate, on many occasions, may be a great inconvenience both to a man himself and to his friends: but a delicate taste of wit or beauty must always be a desirable quality; because it is the source of all the finest and most innocent enjoyments, of which human nature is susceptible. In this decision the sentiments of all mankind are agreed. Wherever you can ascertain a delicacy of taste, it is sure to meet with approbation; and the best way of ascertaining it is to appeal to those models and principles, which have been established by the uniform consent and experience of nations and ages.
But though there be naturally a wide difference in point of delicacy between one person and another, nothing tends further to increase and improve this talent, than practice in a particular art, and the frequent survey or contemplation of a particular species of beauty. When objects of any kind are first presented to the eye or imagination, the sentiment, which attends them, is obscure and confused; and the mind is, in a great measure, incapable of pronouncing concerning their merits or defects. The taste cannot perceive the several excellences of the performance; much less distinguish the particular character of each excellency, and ascertain its quality and degree. If it pronounces the whole in general to be beautiful or deformed, it is the utmost that can be expected; and even this judgment, a person, so unpracticed, will be apt to deliver with great hesitation and reserve. But allow him to acquire experience in those objects, his feeling becomes more exact and nice: he not only perceives the beauties and defects of each part, but marks the distinguishing species of each quality, and assigns it suitable praise or blame. A clear and distinct sentiment attends him through the whole survey of the objects; and he discerns that very degree and kind of approbation or displeasure, which each part is naturally fitted to produce. The mist dissipates, which seemed formerly to hang over the object: the organ acquires greater perfection in its operations; and can pronounce, without danger of mistake, concerning the merits of every performance. In a word, the same address and dexterity, which practice gives to the execution of any work, is also acquired by the same means, in the judging of it.
So advantageous is practice to the discernment of beauty, that, before we can give judgment on any work of importance, it will even be requisite, that that very individual performance be more than once perused by us, and be surveyed in different lights with attention and deliberation. There is a flutter or hurry of thought which attends the first perusal of any piece, and which confounds the genuine sentiment of beauty. The relation of the parts is not discerned: the true characters of style are little distinguished: the several perfections and defects seem wrapped up in a species of confusion, and present themselves indistinctly to the imagination. Not to mention, that there is a species of beauty, which, as it is florid and superficial, pleases at first; but being found incompatible with a just expression either of reason or passion, soon palls upon the taste, and is then rejected with disdain, at least rated at much lower value.
It is impossible to continue in the practice of contemplating any order of beauty, without being frequently obliged to form comparisons between the several species and degrees of excellence, and estimating their proportion to each other. A man, who has had no opportunity of comparing the different kinds of beauty, is indeed totally unqualified to pronounce an opinion with regard to any object presented to him. By comparison alone we fix the epithets of praise or blame, and learn how to assign the due degree of each. The coarsest daubing contains a certain luster of colors and exactness of imitation, which are so far beauties, and would affect the mind of a peasant or Indian with the highest admiration. The most vulgar ballads are not entirely destitute of harmony or nature; and none but a person, familiarized to superior beauties would pronounce their numbers harsh, or narration uninteresting. A great inferiority of beauty gives pain to a person conversant in the highest excellence of the kind, and is for that reason pronounced a deformity: as the most finished object, with which we are acquainted, is naturally supposed to have reached the pinnacle of perfection, and to be entitled to the highest applause. One accustomed to see, and examine, and weigh the several performances, admired in different ages and nations, can only rate the merits of a work exhibited to his view, and assign its proper rank among the productions of genius.
But to enable a critic the more fully to execute this undertaking, he must preserve his mind free from all prejudice, and allow nothing to enter into his consideration, but the very object which is submitted to his examination. We may observe, that every work of art, in order to produce its due effect on the mind, must be surveyed in a certain point of view, and cannot be fully relished by persons, whose situation, real or imaginary, is not conformable to that which is required by the performance. An orator addresses himself to a particular audience, and must have a regard to their particular genius, interest, opinions, passions, and prejudices; otherwise he hopes in vain to govern their resolutions, and inflame their affections. Should they even have entertained some prepossessions against him, however unreasonable, he must not overlook this disadvantage; but, before he enters upon the subject, must endeavor to conciliate their affection, and acquire their good graces. A critic of a different age or nation, who should peruse this discourse, must have all these circumstances in his eye, and must place himself in the same situation as the audience, in order to form a true judgment of the oration. In like manner, when any work is addressed to the public, though I should have a friendship or enmity with the author, I must depart from this situation; and considering myself as a man in general, forget, if possible, my individual being and my peculiar circumstances. A person influenced by prejudice, complies not with this condition; but obstinately maintains his natural position, without placing himself in that point of view, which the performance supposes. If the work be addressed to persons of a different age or nation, he makes no allowance for their peculiar views and prejudices; but, full of the manners of his own age and country, rashly condemns what seemed admirable in the eyes of those for whom alone the discourse was calculated. If the work be executed for the public, he never sufficiently enlarges his comprehension, or forgets his interest as a friend or enemy, as a rival or commentator. By this means, his sentiments are perverted; nor have the same beauties and blemishes the same influence upon him, as if he had imposed a proper violence on his imagination, and had forgotten himself for a moment. So far his taste evidently departs from the true standard; and of consequence loses all credit and authority.
It is well known, that in all questions, submitted to the understanding, prejudice is destructive of sound judgment, and perverts all operations of the intellectual faculties: it is no less contrary to good taste; nor has it less influence to corrupt out sentiment of beauty. It belongs to good sense to check its influence in both cases; and in this respect, as well as in many others, reason, if not an essential part of taste, is at least requisite to the operations of this latter faculty. In all the nobler productions of genius, there is a mutual relation and correspondence of parts; nor can either the beauties or blemishes be perceived by him, whose thought is not capacious enough to comprehend all those parts, and compare them with each other, in order to perceive the consistence and uniformity of the whole. Every work of art has also a certain end or purpose, for which it is calculated; and is to be deemed more or less perfect, as it is more or less fitted to attain this end. The object of eloquence is to persuade, of history to instruct, of poetry to please by means of the passions and the imagination. These ends we must carry constantly in our view, when we peruse any performance; and we must be able to judge how far the means employed are adapted to their respective purposes. Besides every kind of composition, even the most poetical, is nothing but a chain of propositions and reasonings; not always, indeed, the justest and most exact, but still plausible and specious, however disguised by the coloring of the imagination. The persons introduced in tragedy and epic poetry, must be represented as reasoning, and thinking, and concluding, and acting, suitably to their character and circumstances; and without judgment, as well as taste and invention, a poet can never hope to succeed in so delicate an undertaking. Not to mention, that the same excellence of faculties which contributes to the improvement of reason, the same clearness of conception, the same exactness of distinction, the same vivacity of apprehension, are essential to the operations of true taste, and are its infallible concomitants. It seldom, or never happens, that a man of sense, who has experience in any art, cannot judge of its beauty; and it is no less rare to meet with a man who has a just taste without a sound understanding.
Thus, though the principles of taste be universal, and, nearly, if not entirely the same in all men; yet few are qualified to give judgment on any work of art, or establish their own sentiment as the standard of beauty. The organs of internal sensation are seldom so perfect as to allow the general principles their full play, and produce a feeling correspondent to those principles. They either labor under some defect, or are vitiated by some disorder; and by that means, excite a sentiment, which may be pronounced erroneous. When the critic has no delicacy, he judges without any distinction, and is only affected by the grosser and more palpable qualities of the object: the finer touches pass unnoticed and disregarded. Where he is not aided by practice, his verdict is attended with confusion and hesitation. Where no comparison has been employed, the most frivolous beauties, such as rather merit the name of defects, are the objects of his admiration. Where he lies under the influence of prejudice, all his natural sentiments are perverted. Where good sense is wanting, he is not qualified to discern the beauties of design and reasoning, which are the highest and most excellent. Under some or other of these imperfections, the generality of men labor; and hence a true judge in the finer arts is observed, even during the most polished ages, to be so rare a character: strong sense, united to delicate sentiment, improved by practice, perfected by comparison, and cleared of all prejudice, can alone entitle critics to this valuable character; and the joint verdict of such, wherever they are to be found, is the true standard of taste and beauty.