History of Sculpture, Painting, and Architecture. J. S. Memes
various systems of taste, however apparently dissimilar, may be referred in principle to one or other of the two following: that this is an original and independent faculty; or, that it may be resolved into a modification of the general powers of the mind. Of these opinions, the first has been, within the present century, satisfactorily proved utterly unphilosophical and inadequate to its purpose; the second is preferable, but imperfect in the explications hitherto given, chiefly from three causes. First, writers have formed their conclusions from a consideration of the quality, in its full and complete exercise, instead of tracing the steps by which it is acquired or improved: secondly, this intellectual quality, even by the best writers, has been treated too much as an external sense—or it has been resolved into direct and inflex perceptions, and confounded with so many accidental feelings, that the inferences have been most perplexing and cumbrous: and, thirdly, the subject in general has been treated too metaphysically. Hence, however learned, or even abstractly just, the investigations may have been, they have exerted slight influence in establishing practice upon obvious and enlightened theory.
But declining to enter upon the exposure of what may be conceived former mistakes, we shall proceed briefly to explain our own views. Following out, then, the tenor of the preceding remarks, we conceive taste to be nothing more than a certain acuteness, which necessarily is acquired by, and always accompanies, the frequent exercise of the powers of understanding in any one given pursuit. It seems to differ from mere knowledge, in being attended by a love or desire of the particular exercise. This desire, whether it precedes or follows acquirement, is easily accounted for, in the one case, as an agreeable anticipation of advantage to be gained, and in the other as a mental habitude; or it is frequently cherished from impressions received at an age too early for notice. The gratification of this desire, exclusive even of the enjoyment received from the successful exercise of the mental powers, sufficiently explains the origin of the pleasures of taste.
This view of taste, as applicable to, and indeed resulting from, training of the understanding in all dignified pursuits, is agreeable, as already shown, to common feeling and common language. But in deference to the same authorities, it is necessary to limit the idea to a restricted, that is, a proper sense of the word. Hence we have said that the object of taste is beauty, as perceivable in the works of nature and art: thus confining its province to literature and the fine arts, which reflect nature either by direct imitation, or by more remote association.
In the present volume, the subject is limited, of course, to the arts of design; but the principles now expounded are conversant with every varied application of taste: And we have pursued this extent of illustration throughout the whole powers of the mind, in order to ground, on the broadest basis, this practical precept, that taste, like the powers of judgment and understanding, of which, in fact, it is only a modification, can be improved, or, we venture to say, acquired in any useful degree, only by patient cultivation, and well-directed study of the particular subject. The opinion opposite to this has been productive of the worst effects, both in the practice and patronage of the arts. It not unfrequently has led artists into irregular, and even unnatural compositions; but its greatest evils do daily arise from those, whose previous habits and attainments by no means qualify them for judges, confidently pronouncing upon works of art, from what they are pleased to term a natural taste. This, if it means any thing, must imply an untutored, and therefore, imperfect taste. We would be understood here, not as advocating a conventional criticism, but as maintaining, that the higher beauties, and nobler principles of art, can be appreciated only by those whose taste has been cultivated by profound study and knowledge of these principles. One class of effects in an imitative art is, doubtless, to produce sensations which can be immediately compared with the more obvious effects and appearances of nature. Of these every one can judge, whether the effect be actually produced or not. This, however, though a primary, is the lowest object of the artist. The dignity, too, and comparative value, of these effects, can be estimated only by a mind generally cultivated; while the propriety of the means employed, and their agreement with the modes of art, the higher beauties of execution, the intelligence of style, the just character of the performance as a work of peculiar talents, can be sanctioned by canons of judgment familiar only to those who have made the subject a regular study. In this we require nothing more for the sculptor and the painter than is demanded, and rightly too, in favour of the poet and the orator.
From these observations, founded, as they are, on experience, follows as a corollary the truth of the previous definition, that, in the fine arts, beauty is always resolvable into some effect or relation discerned and approved by the understanding. For since it has been shown that taste is but another name for intellectual cultivation and knowledge in a given pursuit, the perception of beauty, which forms the peculiar object of taste, must ultimately be referred to the understanding. Now, in an imitative art, there can be only one relation, namely, truth, which thus becomes both the source and the criterion of beauty. This truth, however, admits of two specific distinctions; or at least respects two separate objects, as the production is compared with nature, the archetype imitated; and with the principles of the art, or peculiar mode of imitation. In the one case, there is the relation of resemblance; in the other, that of consistency. These, in their infinitely various combinations and modified excellences, still recur to one and the same simple law of the beautiful—veracity.
The general spirit and tendency of these remarks bear directly on the question regarding a standard of taste. Both parties here, in pertinaciously adhering to their opinion, are wrong. There is, and there is not, a standard; meaning, by this term, a permanent rule of taste beyond which human invention or genius shall never pass. At the same time, if there be no stable and unerring principles of judgment, there can be neither merit nor moral dignity, beauty nor truth, in the works of the most gifted mind. How, then, are facts seemingly so discordant to be reconciled? We have already adverted to the radical error in all cases of disregarding, and in some instances of treating with scorn, the idea of a gradual and laborious acquirement of taste. This, however, will be found the only idea of the subject truly useful in a practical view, as well as the sole ground of consistent and rational theory. Taste is not only progressive, but inductive; it is, in fact, the result of a series of experiments whose object is beauty. As in every other species of experimental knowledge, then, the standard of excellence must vary in different ages according to their lights and their refinement. In the progress of individual genius this succession is very remarkable, the objects and nature of its aims changing with, and indeed indicating, attainment. It is thus clear that taste, whether nationally or individually considered, must vary in its models, and in their standards, according to the existing state of knowledge; for, in departing from received precepts, men are guided by the hope of reaching higher perfection, or of exhibiting novelty of invention. If such tentative measures succeed, the general standard is so far elevated; when they fail, though the advance of real improvement may be impeded for a season, established modes more firmly recover their authority. But again, as in every species of experimental science, those researches, in their practice the most carefully conducted, and in their inferences the most consistent, are regarded as the canons of scientific truth; so in the liberal arts, those noble monuments which, during the longest period, and to the greatest number of competent judges, have yielded the most satisfaction, are justly esteemed standards of taste—rules by which other works are to be tried. Such standards, or final experiments, in the science of taste, are fortunately possessed in the literary compositions, and in the remains of the sculpture and architecture of antiquity; as also in the labours of those moderns who have emulated the teachers of the olden time. These accredited relics of genius obtain a deserved and venerable mastery over future aspirings, first, from their own inborn excellence; secondly, from the effects of that excellence in a continually increasing influence over association and feeling. Imagination thus combines with reason in hallowing both the original cause and the attendant influence into precepts of an immutable authority, consecrated by the suffrages of the wise and the refined of every later age. Reason, however, first established, and subsequently demonstrates, the principles upon which this standard has become unchanged and unchangable; namely, perfect simplicity in the means, and perfect truth in the results, through all their varied combinations.
Consideration even of the vicissitudes and revolutions in taste seems farther to confirm these general views. Opinion, indeed, has vacillated in the estimation of elegance; but, as in the constantly returning eccentricities of a planetary body, some secret