of fenfations, paffions and affections; the fources either of pleasure or pain; and we confider all thefe mental qualities as united and fubfifting in one and the fame fubject, though we do not comprehend the nature of it, but give it the general name of a spiritual fubftance. A late very fubtile philofopher is pleafed to affirm, that these mental qualities have no common principles of union and fubfiftence; but they are loose, and independent of one another. But this is contrary to our clearest perceptions; for, when we have at one and the fame time the different fenfations of fmell, found, tafte, &c. and also feel the refpective pleasures attending them, we are confcious that they are all united in one and the fame fubject. Further, when we pursue ` a train of reasoning, we are confcious that it is one and the fame principle which difcerns the evidence of the premises; which compares them together, and difcovers the force of the conclufion; and we are not capable of having any ftronger evidence, than what arifes from this intimate confcioufnefs. The only principle upon which the fore-mentioned opinion can be founded is this, that what we cannot comprehend, cannot exift. But this is a principle which supposes man omniscient, and is therefore infinitely abfurd. We may, no doubt, have certain means of knowing that fomething exifts, though we are not able fully to difcover its particular nature. But, it may be faid, "fince we know not the effence either of mind or matter, how can we know their difference? For aught we know, this obfcure thing called matter, may be capable of fuch modifications as may produce thought, and fuch qualities as are fuppofed to be purely mental." But in answer to this, however unknown the internal nature of these different fubftances may be, yet, from the incompatibility of their known external qualities, we may with certainty infer, that they cannot exist in the fame common fubject. We shall therefore proceed to fhew, that the mind cannot be divisible, and therefore cannot be material. Let us fuppofe any fenfation whatever; a degree of pain for example; if this pain was felt by matter, then, as matter confifts of parts, every part muft feel the pain, for pain is a real fenfation, not a relative idea, like that order or harmony which may arise from a certain difpofition of the parts of matter. Inftead of one fimple pain, therefore, which is felt, there must be as many diftinct pains as there are different parts, exceeding all number, as matter is divifible in infinitum, than which nothing can be more abfurd. Indeed, if we fuppofe matter fufceptible of thought (the most real and interesting quality that we can imagine), then the different parts of matter must think, and the thought of one part must be diftinct from that of another; for though the feveral parts are united in point of contact, yet they are different in nature, and separable from one another: thus, instead of one fimple thinking being, we must have innumerable fuch beings. The fimplicity of thought, therefore, is altogether incompatible with the compounded nature of matter, Further, it has been fhewn in a former differtation, that matter is incapable of active power; but we know the activity of the mind, by the confcioufness of the power it has of arranging and comparing its ideas at pleasure. This active being, therefore, cannot be material. Indeed, the qualities of mind and matter are perfectly incompatible: matter can be divided, and one body become two, or more, different bodies; but thought cannot be divided even in imagination, so that

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one fimple idea fhall become two diftin&t ideas, or one process of reafoning become two different proceffes; and this we perceive by inward confcioufnefs, the most certain and moft immediate fource of evidence. The ancient Materialifts reprefented the foul as a kind of harmony refulting from a certain organization of the body; and, confequently, that it was totally dependent upon the body, fubject to all its variations, whether of increase or decay; and, at laft, annihilated upon the total diffolution of the body. It must be allowed, that there is a remarkable fympathy betwixt the foul and the body; and this fympathy is intended to ferve very neceffary purposes in their prefent ftate of union. Yet, whatever the foul may fuffer from its fympathy with the body, a little reflection upon the quality and powers of the mind will demon rate, in the clearest manner, the effential difference betwixt these two principles, and the fuperiority and command which the one has over the other. Mind is evidently poffelled of active power; we feel its strong exertion in the whole process of our reafoning. It calls in ideas at pleasure; it arranges and compares them; it examines their agreement or difagreement. Thefe operations are not the effects of any other active being behind the curtain; it is mind, the conscious mind, which is the immediate caufe of them. The active power of mind is also very confpicuous in the oppofition it makes to the paffions. By a firm and continued exertion, it is able to fubdue the strongeft paflions, and refifts the keeneft appetites, even to the death and diffolution of the body; and fuch atchievements are the moft convincing proof of its active power and high authority. Mind, therefore, and matter are in themselves very different principles. There is nothing in matter that can give the leat fufpicion of active power; and what is called vis inertia, is a quality ftanding in oppofition to a power of moving itself. Matter, therefore, is but a paffive inftrument, of a ministerial nature, and entirely fubject to the active power of mind; whereas, mind is capable of high exertions: it chooses and changes its objects; and these are often fubtile, fpiritual, and fublime, totally repugnant to any qualities of matter. I believe nobody was ever bold enough to affirm, that matter, totally quiefcent, is fufceptible of reafon, will, and active power. If it is poffible for matter to admit of such mental qualities, this must be the effect of fome particular motion, collifion, and concourfe of its parts; and the caufe of fuch motion muft either be mind or matter itself. If we fuppofe it mind, then this mind, upon the fuppofition, muft be immaterial: this must be giving up the queftion, as it forces us upon the abfurd distinction of immaterial and material minds. But let us fuppofe that matter can move itself (a thing formerly fhewn to be impoffible), yet furely the blind impulfes of brute matter never can produce fo beautiful and fo noble an effect as an intelligent and active spirit. The Epicurean notion of the material univerfe being the effect of the fortuitous concourfe of atoms, is justly exploded as the groffeft abfurdity; but it would be a much greater abfurdity to fuppofe, that from fuch concourfe of atoms a world of fpirits could arife, capable to hold a correfpondence with one another from the moft diftant parts of the globe -each of whom is in its nature of greater excellence and importance than all the material world put together. The boundless powers of imagination, which no extent of fpace or time can limit; the regular Process of reafoning, thefe exquifitely fine fenfes, which open to us

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all the beauties of the natural and moral world; those great exertions of the foul whereby it rifes above all created nature to the contemplation, love, and adoration of the infinite perfections of an eternal Being, are qualities of fuch excellence, as to ftamp upon the human mind fome characters of a divine nature, and which never can be the effect of any motions whatever of dull inanimated matter. Indeed, when we give a juft attention to the noble powers of the foul, our admiration of the incomprehenfible union of mind and matter cannot be greater than our full perception of their total difference.'

ART. III. Lælius and Hortenfia; or, Thoughts on the Nature and Objects of Taste and Genius, in a Series of Letters to Two Friends. 5. Boards. Cadell. Edinburgh printed. 1782.

TH

HOUGH the title of this performance evidently implies that the Author means not to tie himself down to a fyftematical examination of the fubjects which he has difcuffed in it, he has, nevertheless, not been inattentive to methodical arrangement; he treats the objects of his enquiry according to that regular progreffion, in which they might best be presented to the attention of his readers: and this he has done with perfpicuity and effect.

His firft general divifion is, of the faculties of the mind into active and paffive. Tafte is next confidered, as inftinctive and acquired; and having defined it, he then traces its progress in the mind. He afterwards enquires into the nature of beauty. . The divifion of beauty is fourfold: fimple, or fuperficial; that which depends in part, or wholly, on proportion; that which arifes from utility; and that which is ornamental or acceffory, but not effential to the object. He then fhews, that beauty, elegance, and the fublime, are the chief objects of tafte. He next confiders the operation of tafte, as applied to the works of nature or of art; in its application to the works of art, he examines into its influence on Poetry, Painting, Mufic, Hiftory, and Architecture. He then digreffes into collateral inquiries; fuch, however, as are intimately connected with his general fubject. Returning more immediately to the point from which he had digreffed, he finally attempts to mark the diftinction between genius and taste.

The Reader may perceive, from the flight outline we have given of this performance, the variety which it is capable of comprehending; and which, to do juftice to the Author's diligence, they will find it comprehends. As a fpecimen of this work, we shall lay before our Readers Letter XXXIV. containing obfervations on architecture, and an answer to a ftricture on Horace :

⚫ Gardening and architecture have been generally ranked among the arts. But I fhould think the former ought, with no less propriety,

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priety, to be claffed among the works of nature, fince gardening is nothing else but Nature dreffed and ornamented by art.

There are few, if any objects of tafte, more interesting than architecture; by which are not meant here the five well-known orders only, but edifices of all kinds, and more particularly those which we inhabit. Strength, conveniency, and elegance, are what chiefly conflitute the propriety of buildings. What is the precife degree to which ornaments in architecture ought to be carried, is a problem, the folution of which hath teazed the most diftinguished artifts. It hath been already obferved, that Nature hath ornamented many animals fo highly, that we wantonly conclude thefe decorations to be mere sports. But the inftinctive affections of animals are fo far removed beyond our powers of investigation, that decifions relating to the defign and utility of fuch ornaments, ought not to be given without the utmost referve. Be that as it may, we are, in many cafes, profufe in ornamenting, without regard to utility, believing ourselves to be authorised in this from the best examples, thofe of Nature.

It is not an eafy matter to know where to flop, when we inveftigate the laws and analogies of Nature, when we take leffons from her œconomy, or when we apply thefe to the arts. Some architects have entertained an opinion, that the principles and fymmetry of their art are deducible from the proportions of the human body. In all the members of architecture, ftrength or beauty are intended. As to the human body, befides the endowments of ftrength and beauty, Nature hath not only fitted it for much motion, but hath rendered exercife neceffary for its prefervation and well-being. This neceflity of abfolute reft in the one, and of motion in the other, renders it probable, that, if there be any analogy at all between the proportions of the human body and thofe of architecture, it must be fo faint as to be unfatisfactory to a judicious artift. The arts, however, have been fo much indebted to Nature, that he ought invariably to be confulted, when innovations in the arts are intended. In the prefent cafe, it is not from the animal kingdom, or from bodies poffeffing an internal power of fpontaneous motion, that we can take directions. The tops of trees are frequently ponderous and bulky, and are always fupported by trunks of a ftrength equal to their load. A ftately oak, with a fufficient length of trunk, tapering gently from the ground to the lowest branchings, might well have led mankind, at firft, to fupport heavy piles of building by fimilar columns. This is, at least, as natural a fuppofition, as that the accidental growth of the Acanthus about a basket, fhould direct to the foliage of the Corinthian capital.

Since many of the ornamental parts which belong to the different orders of architecture, neither contribute to the strength of buildings, nor to conveniency, thefe decorations make part of the third branch, that is, of elegance; and we fee in architecture, perhaps more than in any of the other arts, an application of ornament, which, though wholly unconnected with utility, is univerfally allowed to prove an ample fource of beauty. In fuch cafes, it doth not appear that we can frame any definition of elegance more fatisfactory, than that certain proportions please the eye, as particular notes of mufic are me lodious to the ear. Nor can we ever hope to investigate the nervous

Syftem

fyftem fo fcientifically as to lay open thefe myfteries. We know that harth founds, as fcratching a plate with a knife, or rubbing one rough ftone against another, are remarkably irkfome to fome people; while others are in no ways affected with such founds. The tumultuous din or gobling of a turkey cock feems to us to be quite contrary to true melody; and yet the female of that bird may, from a particular organization of nerves, find these notes enchanting mufic. The male fwallow, while the female fits on her eggs, flies about the building, filent every where till he come oppofite to the neft, where he fets up a loud fcreaming, harsh to us, and perhaps to the female turkey, though, for aught we know, fo mufical and delightful to the female fwallow, as to have a fhare in folacing her during her tedious and painful period of incubation.

Another important queftion in architecture is, whether the members of any or all the orders, can admit of confiderable changes in their proportions, without violating archite&tory laws? The inveftigation of this problem is the more difficult, that we have no other ftandard for the proportions of these ornamental parts, which are in no refpect conducive to the ftrength or convenience of the building, but that internal fenfe which we denominate Tafte. Though the Romans adopted the Grecian architecture, it appears, from the remains of ancient edifices in Rome, that they did not adhere rigidly to particular proportions. We may judge of this from the great Amphitheatre, the loweft circle or ftory of which hath been defcribed by fome of the most diftinguished architects as Doric, and by others as Tufcan. The fourth or highest circle, too, hath equivocal members, fo as to have paffed with fome as of the Compofite, and with others as of the Corinthian order. It is to be regretted, that fo little of the architecture of the Auguftan period hath efcaped the wrecks of time; fince Vitruvius lived till about the beginning of Auguftus's reign, and others who fucceeded that architect, must probably have acquired a refined tafte in that art. The theatre of Marcellus, and the portica of the Rotunda, are fine fpecimens, the one of the Doric, the other of the Corinthian order. But thefe, with fome other more mutilated fragments of the Auguftan age, are not fufficient to let us know, what latitude the mafters of that period affumed in varying their proportions. Be that as it may, the architects of the prefent times would perhaps do well to adhere religiously to the rules laid down by the more celebrated mafters, who have appeared in Europe fince the restoration of the fine arts. Excess in refinement is known fometimes to have led to deformity, and seldom fails to prefage a decline from true taste.

'Horace, in Ode xv. B. 2. complains, that the Romans, in his time, were more attentive to private buildings than to the temples of the Gods. The ingenious authors of a late publication on architecture have animadverted on the poet for making fuch a complaint, fince Auguftus himself had greatly ornamented the city with public edifices. I know it will not be difagreeable to you, if I conclude this letter with an attempt to vindicate your favourite author. In this I am fo little at a lofs, that I think the charge may be answered in three different ways. First, when we confider the good fenfe and polite manners of that poet, his extenfive knowledge of mankind,