painful or unsatisfactory to us in the form of the former. In pursuing this observation it will be found, that not only old age, but profession, occupation, character of form, character of countenance, and a thousand other circumstances, determine our sentiments of the beauty of attitude or gesture, by determining the nature of the expression we expect from the individual we contemplate; and that the same gesture is beautiful or other. wise precisely as it accords, or does not accord with the character we attribute to the form.

The severe and thoughtful gravity we admire in the attitude of a judge, would be absurd in a young lawyer. The step of dignity, the attitude of command which we love in the general of an army, would be ludicrous in a subaltern officer, &c. The same gestures or attitudes which we feel as beautiful or sublime in tragic imitation upon the stage, would be ludicrous if they were employ ed even in the higher comedy, nor would they even be permitted by good taste in the inferior and less interesting characters of tragedy. It is unnecessary to say that the most approved or fascinating gestures of comedy would be altogether insufferable if they were employed in tragic representations. I shall only farther request my readers to call to their remembrance the attitudes and gestures which they have so often admired in classic sculpture, and to ask themselves whether the same gestures, &c. would be beautiful in all characters: (as would necessarily be the case, if beauty in this respect arose from any definite conformations),-whether the gesture of the Apollo would be beautiful in the Hercules, or in the Jupiter; or the attitudes of the Venus beautiful in the forms of Juno or Minerva? Even in the lowest employment of the art of painting, (in portrait-painting) we feel the necessity of this correspondence of attitude to

character; and we blame the painter whenever he chooses any attitude or position which appears to us inconsistent with the character of mind which is expressed by the countenance. In feeling and in expressing, on the contrary, this correspondence; in selecting the attitude or gesture which suits best with the character he represents; consists one of the chief evidences of the genius of the artist; and by this means the portrait of an obscure individual may sometimes possess the value of an original composition.

I shall only add to these illustrations, by requesting my readers to observe, in the last place, that in a great variety of cases our sense of the beauty of the same attitude or gesture in the same individual, is actually deter mined, not by the appearances which are exhibited to the eye, but by our opinion of the propriety or impropriety of the emotion which it expresses. Indignation, for instance, or rage, or revenge, are passions capable of producing very sublime attitudes and gestures; and when these passions arise from great or noble motives, the attitudes by which they are expressed are felt as sublime. Let us witness the same attitudes when they are expressive of little, or trivial, or degrading sentiments, and they immediately become painful or ridiculous. The gestures of Don Quixote in encountering the windmills, or in routing the flock of sheep, are precisely the same with those that must have been employed by the Amadises or the Orlandos of romance; yet they would be beheld certainly with very different emotions. The attitudes of grief, of sorrow, of melancholy, are beautiful in an extreme degree, particularly in the female form. Tell us,

however, that they arise from some trifling cause, from the disappointment of a party, the loss of a trinket, or the success of a rival beauty, and we feel no emotions

The gestures of al

but those of contempt or ridicule. most all the gay and exhilarating passions are beautiful; and our sympathy with happiness is so great, that we never observe them without the disposition to believe that they are just. Inform us, however, that all these expres sions of happiness arise from some childish, or some worthless motive; that the philosopher has only discovered a new butterfly; or that the warrior has only got a step in the army; that the joy of the youthful beauty is only occasioned by the present of a new dress, and that of the matron by a fifty pound prize in the lottery, &c. and the gestures we formerly admired become at once either ludicrous or disgusting. Observations of this kind may be extended to every emotion or passion; and I think it will be found, in every case, that no gesture or attitude, expressive of such passions or emotions, is permanently and originally beautiful; that our opinion of this beauty varies according to circumstances; and that the circumstance, in every case, which determines our sentiment of beauty, is our opinion of the justness or propriety of the emotion which such attitude or such ges ture signifies.

SECTION V.

Of Grace.

THE preceding illustrations are intended to shew, that the sublimity or beauty of attitude and gesture arises, not from any causes of a material kind, nor from any law by which certain material appearances are immediately productive of these sentiments, but from their being adapted to express, and being felt as expressive, of amiable or interesting, or respectable qualities of the human mind. In concluding those illustrations, I have com

pleted all that I had properly in view in that investigation.

There is, however, a quality of which the human form is susceptible, and which is occasionally found both in its positions and in its motions, which is not sufficiently accounted for by this theory. This quality is GRACE; a quality different from beauty, though nearly allied to it; which is never observed without affecting us with emotions of peculiar delight, and which it is, perhaps, the first object of the arts of sculpture and of painting to study and to present. Upon this subject, while I presume to offer a few additional observations, I am yet to request my readers to consider them rather as conjectures, than as the results of any formal inquiry.

That there is a difference between the qualities of beauty, and of grace, in the human form, must, I conceive, every where be admitted. The terms themselves are neither synonymous, nor are they used synonymously; the emotions we receive from them are easily distinguishable, and are every day distinguished in common language; and when we refer to experience, we may find a thousand instances in which the positions and movements of the form are beautiful without being graceful. Beauty, indeed, in some degree or other, is to be found in the most common appearances of man; but grace is rarely seen. We often lament its absence, while we are conscious of the presence of beauty; and it every where seems to us to demand some higher and more uncommon requisites than those which are necessary to mere beauty.

It seems to me, still farther, that the appearances of grace in the attitudes or gestures of the form, are never perceived without affecting us with some sentiment of respect, or admiration, for the person whose form expresses them. When we observe the attitudes of joy, or

hope, or innocent gaiety, we feel delight, but not respect for those who exhibit them. When we observe the attitudes of grief, or melancholy, or despondence, we feel sympathy, and the delight which nature has annexed to social interest, but we do not necessarily feel admiration. The gestures of rage, in the same manner, of force, of anguish, of terror, may affect us with very sublime emotions of fear, of astonishment, of awful interest, but they may be unaccompanied with any emotion of admiration or respect for the individual who displays them. Whenever, on the contrary, we witness the graceful in gesture or attitude, we feel, I apprehend, an additional sentiment of respect; a conviction of something dignified or exalted in the mind of the person, and of which the gesture or attitude employed is felt as significant to us. How far this proposition is true, must be finally determined by the consciousness of my readers: I shall observe only, that it seems to me very strongly justified both by the language of philosophers, and by the common language of the world. When we hear any attitude or gesture described as graceful, we are conscious, I think, of immediately feeling some sentiment of respect or admi ration for the individual who displays it. Whenever we use the same term ourselves, we mean always to convey to those who hear us, a similar sentiment. Every attitude or gesture of a well proportioned form, which is at once easy and expressive of some amiable or interesting feeling, is beautiful, and is accordingly spoken of as beautiful but when we add the term graceful, we wish, I think, always to convey the idea of some additional quality, which is intitled to respect, and which is expressive of some conceived dignity or superiority in the mind of the person who exhibits it. Whenever, in the same manner, any attitude or gesture affects us, beside