THE MODERN SPECTATOR No. IX

1811-12 :Pages 334-338

The first application of the industry of men must be to procure the necessaries of life: by agriculture, to supply themselves with food; by simple manufactures, to furnish themselves with clothes; by surrounding their towns with walls, to defend themselves from sudden attacks; and by establishing laws, to secure their property and the peaceable enjoyments of the fruits of their labour.

When some progress is made in the attainment of these primitive objects; and when human ingenuity has found out the means of facilitating labour, by which some part of society can do more than is necessary to supply their own wants, and accordingly become exempted, in a great measure, from corporeal toil; the human mind, stimulated by a natural love of excellence and distinction, begins to think of improvements, and to ad what is convenient to that which is necessary; till, at length, the views of men being extended, and their genius and taste being refined, the elegances and pleasures of life are objects of attention, the productions of men of superior talents are admired and cherished, poems are read with pleasure, and pictures and statues are beheld with delight.

Such is the manner in which Lucretius, who holds a very high rank among the didactic poets, has traced the progress of social man, from the period when he quits what is called the savage state, till he finds himself advanced, by gradual and growing improvements, to an age of science and of taste. Lucretius was a poet of the Augustan age; and though his poem is written to support the most absurd, unphilosophical, and profane system that erring genius ever adopted, he lived at a time when Rome had attained the summit of literary glory, as well as of that taste and refined elegance, which, after the lapse of so many ages, it is our boast to admire and imitate; and which will continue to have admirers and imitators,

Till chaos lets its sable curtains fall,

And universal darkness buries all.

The reign of Augustus Caesar was the age of taste in Rome; that of Louis XIV, was the age of taste in France; the period of the Medici family was that of taste in modern Italy; and when, may be asked, was the age of taste in England? Can it be considered as an ill-founded partiality to the times in which we live, if it were to be answered, the reign of George the III.? This may not be an uninteresting subject of consideration and enquiry. But, in order to prepare the way for a just and accurate decision, it will be necessary to determine in what that feeling, sentiment, or faculty of discernment in the mind, which is called taste, consists.

Taste, taken in its most extensive signification, is, in relation to works, the knowlege of what merits the estimation of mankind. In the arts and sciences, there are some respecting whose excellence the public are ever predisposed to adopt the opinion of men of skill, and seldom or never venture to pronounce a decisive judgment as proceeding from themselves: such are geometry, mechanics, certain branches of natural philosophy, and painting. In these arts and sciences, the men of taste are the persons who are versed in them; and taste is, in these various kinds, the knowledge of their respective excellence.

This is not altogether the case with respect to those works of which mankind are, or believe themselves to be, capable of forming, in a greater or less degree, a reasonable judgment: such as poems, plays, romances, novels, ethic discourses, politics, &c. &c. In these various productions, however, of the human intellect, or imagination, we must not understand by taste, the exact knowledge of what is suited to the character, genius, and habits of an individual people or nation.

There appear to be two methods of arriving at this knowledge, and consequently, two different kinds of taste. The one, like that of players, who, by the daily study of the ideas, sentiments, and representations calculated to please the public, become good judges of theatrical works, and especially those that resemble dramatic pieces already published. The other is a rational taste, founded on an accurate knowledge of human nature, and the spirit of the age, and which particularly qualifies theose who possess it to judge of originaln works. He who has only an habitual taste must experience its inefficacy whenever he is destitute of objects of comparison; but the rational of superior taste can be acquired only by the study of that particular art or science which is the favorite object of pretension. Hence proceeds the common expression of forming a taste; and when Sir Joshua Reynolds, in one of his admirable lectures, seems to support an opinion, that genius may be acquired by study, he could have intended to convey little, if any thing more, than that by continual observation and reflection a correct and accurate taste might be obtained.

Men of letters are not always the best judges in that individual branch of literature wherein they have most excelled. This may appear to be an absolute solecism; but it is far otherwise, and a satisfactory explanation is at hand.--It is with great writers, as with great painters, each has his manner. Some express their ideas with a force, a warmth, and an energy peculiar to themselves: some present them in an arrangement with a perspicuity and a combination of words peculiarly their own; while others unfold them with fancy, grandeur, and elegance: but each of them is partial to his own taste, and, considering his own manner as the best, will, of course, set a greater value on the man of moderate abilities who seizes it, than on the man of genius who has a taste of his own. Hence spring the different judgments so often formed on the same work by writers of acknowledged talents, as well as by the public.

To pursue the subject somewhat farther, it may be observed, that many people have a kind of happy instinct in matters of taste, which enables them to determine aright on difficult subjects, without having any principle to direct their judgments; nor can it be doubted that if the natural faculties of such persons were cultivatd, they would acquire a superior taste. But taste being a combination of man's judgment and feelings, there never can be any certainty in the decision or opinion of a man whose judgment has not been formed; and the surest, if not the only way to obtain that object, is by making comparisons. Now to make a perfect comparison between two objects, it is absolutely necessary to understand them both. Hence it follows that the first step to the acquiring a good taste is the attainment of knowledge, without which no comparison can be formed; while without comparisons the judgment cannot be chastened; and without judgment a correct taste cannot be acquired.

Let us endeavour to illustrate this notion by an example. It may be supposed that a young man is anxious to possess a taste for sculpture. If nature has not given him feeling, he seeks an impossibility: if, however, she has supplied him with the necessary sensibility, he must then go in search of knowledge in order to form his judgment; and this knowledge is only to be acquired by seeing statues. To put an end to all cavilling, I shall define a statue to be an imitation of a man or woman. The first piece of marble, or stone, or bronze which he sees of this kind, will enable him to say, whether it resembles the human form; but he will not be qualified to determine on the merits of the sculpture. Good is a relative term, and it is only by comparing the statue with others, that he is enabled to decide on the degree of estimation which it possesses. Apollo is always represented as a beautiful young man; and numerous sculptors, ancient and modern, have made this pagan divinity a subject for the exertion of their chissels. Show a very indifferent example of this figure to an inexperienced person, and a fine one to another in the same disqualified state, and let them be the first statues that either of them has contemplated, and their judgments on both will probably be the same. He who has seen the Apollo of inferior workmanship will be as much charmed as he who has seen the superior representation, and his taste will be equally good. This statue is the best he has ever seen, and it is natural for him to admire it. Let him then see the Apollo of Girardon, that of Bernini, with others ancient and modern; such as have been formed on a study of the antique; and those, as is too much the case with the French artists, which are indebted to the ballet-master of the opera and the graces of its principal performers; but let him at length be brought to the Apollo of Belvidere. He will then have seen all the varieties and perfections of the art, at least in that branch of sculpture, which is generally thought to possess the most admirable example. If he examines each of these statues with attention, and afterwards compares them together, he will acquire the power of ascertaining the value of each, and of assigning to it its true rank. The knowledge that he has obtained, will form his judgment, his judgment will direct his feelings; and he will then have acquired a taste which will justify a reliance.

In support of this mode of reasoning on subjects of taste, and particularly on the subject of sculpture, through they are equally applicable to all others, an authority of the first order may be produced from the treatise on the Sublime and Beautiful, by Edmund Burke.-- If, says he, a man, to who sculpture is new, sees a barber's block, or some ordinary piece of statuary, he is immediately struck and pleased, because he sees something like a human figure, and, entirely taken up with this likeness, he does not at all attend to its defects. Some time after, it may be supposed that this novice lights upon a more artificial work of the same nature. He now begins to look with contempt on what he first admired; but though his knowledge is improved, his taste is not altered. And there can be little doubt that Mr. Burke's opinion is well founded, that what is called a natural taste is nearly common to all, and that a fine or correct taste is the result of study and observation. Hence the power of judging with truth and correctness, or what may be called a critical taste, does not depend upon a superior principle, but upon superior knowledge.

The story of the ancient painter and shoemaker is too well known to justify a repetition. The latter corrected the former respecting some mistakes he had made in the shoe of one of his figures. But this was no improvement to the taste of the painter, who was content with a general resemblance; it only proved his deficiency in the art of shoe-making. There is also a traditionary relation to the same effect, that the artist who formed the equestrian statue of Charles the First, had the remains of his life embittered, when he was informed of the observation of a stable boy, that he had omitted giving girths to the saddle on which the royal figure was placed. It had also been related, that when a fine piece of the decollated head of St. John the Baptist was shewn to a Turkish emperor, he praised many parts of it; at the same time he observed, as a defect, that the skin did not shrink from the wounded part of the neck. The sultan, on this occasion, though his observation was very just, discovered no more natural taste than the painter who executed the piece, or than a thousand European connoisseurs, who probably would never have made the same observation. His Turkish majesty, it may be supposed, had been well acquainted with that terrible spectacle, which others could only have represented in their imagination. Hence proceeds the pleasure derived from a natural object, so far as it is justly imitated, or the satisfaction in seeing an agreeable figure, and the sympathy arising from a striking and affecting incident.

The word taste, therefore, may be defined to be a faculty of the mind, which is affected with, or forms a judgment of, the works of imagination and the elegant arts. This seems to be the most general idea of the term, and altogether unconnected with any particular theory. It would be a curious, as well as a pleasing enquiry, whether there are any principles on this subject so grounded and certain as to supply the means of reasoning satisfactorily about them. I am disposed, indeed, to think that their existence may be proved; and, in some future essay, I may be induced to pursue the enquiry. I have already been carried so far into the considerations on taste, that the exemplary or illustrative parts of my subject must be deferred to a future occasion; and the important question, whether the present period forms a principal aera of taste in Great Britain, will be the subject of my next paper.