But there is another circumstance which tends to the overthrow of true taste, and that is, the mal-administration of the laws of the country. If the rod of justice is wielded with care, firmness and impartiality, the effect upon the country at large will be of the most beneficial kind. The good will be encouraged and protected, the depraved and the designing will find no opportunity of carrying on their schemes against the commonweal, and taste will share in the general prosperity. The administrators of justice are conscientious in the discharge of their duties; by their exertions, virtue is held up to the admiration of the country; and what is more likely to follow from this than an universal desire to cultivate those arts which humanize the mind and ennoble our nature? Let us however reverse the picture, and suppose that justice is dealt out with a sparing and a feeble hand, and what will be the consequence? Propriety of conduct no longer meets with its reward, and vice is at least tacitly encouraged. While fraud and corruption are almost openly practised, what else are we to expect than a corruption of taste, than the blunting of the finer feelings which adorn humanity? 2. Having thus as shortly as possible endeavoured to point out the evils resulting to taste from defects of a political and civil nature, I may now advert to the effects produced upon the mental refinement of a country by the state of its religion and morals. Religion, from its very nature, exerts great influence over the mind of man. It tells him that he is a responsible being, it informs him of a superior essence under whose agency he exists, it points out to him the awful truth of a futurity. Such circumstances as these are of great moment to man, are frequently, if not perpetually, impressed upon his thoughts, and is it to be wondered at, if they excite an interest in his bosom, give a tone to his feelings, and influence his mind? But although almost all religions concur in the points I have just stated, yet nothing is more certain, than that they may be in very different degrees of perfection. Some religions may be pure, others corrupt; some may breathe in all their institutions the language of pity and benevolence; some may delight in cruelty and blood; some may be lax and permit great licence, others may be austere and ascetic. The taste also of the communities which are regulated by these must of course be different. That religion, which exists in purity and in the heart, must encourage a corresponding purity of taste; that which permits of depravity, or is but a form, can have no good effect upon the finer feelings of our nature. That religion which encourages the extension of knowledge is friendly to taste, but the contrary is the case with regard to that which delights in the ignorance of all that live under it. Mahometanism, besides permitting or at least winking at great laxity of morals, is decidedly inimical to the diffusion of general knowledge, and what nation of that persuasion was ever famous for the purity of its taste? Catholicism is, or at least was not very favourable to the cause of the dissemination of knowledge through a country, and mental darkness brooded over Europe when it was in its glory. If, then, true religion is capable of corruption, and its tenets of being perverted, the taste of the nation in which it exists is subject to a corresponding decline, and as men depart from purity in the one, in the other they become more and more vitiated and depraved. On the state of the morals of a country however, and these are closely connected with its religion, chiefly depends the condition of its taste. If the morals of the country are pure, taste must exist in corresponding perfection; but with immorality true taste is inconsistent. When depravity of life and morals pervades a nation, it has sunk to its lowest point, and true taste there cannot exist. When a man is accustomed to give way to the worst feelings of his nature, when every thing that is wicked and depraved is welcome to his breast, can he judge with propriety of what is excellent in genius, can his feelings be awake to what is truly beautiful, grand, or pleasing in nature? He has put himself upon a level with the beasts of the field, and like them his desires are all of a grovelling nature, all the pleasures he can feel are confined to sense, and to him intellectual enjoyments are tasteless. This state of complete immorality comes not however all at once-it is the result of various causes operating by degrees. When taste is at its highest in a nation, it will always be enjoying a high state of political power. With this however comes wealth, and luxury is its never failing attendant. Of the evils resulting from luxury I need hardly speak. It may indeed be named the spring from whence flow all the evils which can fall upon a nation, -it is equally fatal to its political greatness and to the purity of its taste. As soon as bodily gratifications become the chief concern, every thing else is disregarded or but partially attended to. The high spirit of independence, which wont to regulate their motions and appear in all their actions, begins to decay, and body and soul are alike enervated. The way, of course, is laid open for foreign innovation, or for the success of intriguing men within itself, and at the same time the relish for all that is pleasing in literature and the fine arts totally disappears. When a nation is thus on the retrograde, there is contracted an inclination for low vices, and a disposition to take pleasure in them. If this state of affairs prevails among the lower orders, they are, from their situation, prevented from exerting any great influence upon the taste of the nation; it is only when it is to be found among the higher classes that it is attended with pernicious effects. Such was the case in the reign of Charles the Second. At that period every thing like virtue and morality was banished from society, and dissolute manners prevailed among those whose situation in life enabled them to exert the greatest influence over the pursuits of the nation at large. Hence the depravity of taste which characterises that reign, hence the licentiousness of the dramas of that period, when every thing profigate was hailed with pleasure by a dissolute audience. Taste is indeed the attendant upon virtue, and when vice becomes agreeable, it becomes corrupted and its purity is no longer visible. 3. Nothing perhaps has a greater influence over the taste of a country than the various pursuits in which its inhabitants are engaged. If these are of a martial kind, and prompt the people to the extension of their empire or political power, the only good effect pro duced upon taste will be the laying open sources of knowledge which cannot otherwise be accomplished, and so conducing indirectly to its improvement. Again, if the nation be principally and deeply engaged in commerce-that, I fear, must be regarded as contributing little to mental refinement. Commerce is evidently regulated by a principle of selfishness-and with that feeling true taste is incompatible. Who expects to find, in the heart where the desire of gain is the paramount concern, a love for the fine arts, and purity of taste in estimating the beauties of nature and the excellences of genius? Bounds certainly may be placed to the feelings of which I am speaking, and selfishness may in some cases give place to a better ruling principle, but how seldom is that to be expected! Let us look into the characters of those who are extensively involved in commercial affairs, and scarce one in a hundred will be found capable of appreciating intellectual excellence, or possessed of a soul that raises him above "the world,” as Leigh Hunt expresses it, "of brick and mortar and money-getting." With the great body of commercialists, to be rich is to be every thing, and they will consider the time mis-spent which is employed in cultivating taste instead of in searching out the means of acquiring wealth. But commercial pursuits are not only hurtful to the taste of those who are immediately concerned in them-they extend their deteriorating influence to those also who furnish the articles of merchandise. Commerce, if extensive, must be kept up by the overstrained labour of the lower and even of the middling classes-and that laborious exertion is inimical to taste may be shewn by adverting to the experience of all those nations which are remarkable for excessive industry. The Dutch are quite proverbial for the depravity or rather for the entire want of taste-and to what can this be attributed but to that laborious industry, and plodding application to traffick, for which they have been so long famous? No book published in Holland can expect even a temporary popularity which rises above the everyday affairs of that phlegmatic race, and their painters would never have attracted a moment's attention had they not, like Teniers, condescended to celebrate boorish revels, or like Rubens represented gods and goddesses as "hillocks of flesh," in order to please the perverted taste of the country. Even in their dramatic representations a similar deficiency of taste prevails, and nothing is brought upon the stage but what is level to the capacities of ignorant and stupid understandings -nothing but what is monstrous and absurd. To a similar cause we may trace the want of taste among the mechanics of Great Britain. These by their employers are kept in a state of perpetual drudgery, the time which is not entirely devoted to labour being occupied in meals and sleep, so as to fit them for the prosecution of their employment. When from twelve to sixteen hours out of the twenty-four are taken up in hard work, what time is there left for mental relaxation? But the evil does not stop here. Being from their very situation barred from intellectual enjoyment, all the leisure moments they have are spent in pleasures of a sensual kind, in the indulgence of their animal appetites. Wearied with excessive labour, and oppressed with the drudgery of their situation, they seek a temporary relief and oblivion from all their cares in the most disgraceful practice of inebriation; so that their faculties being stupified and their perceptions deadened, all that is beautiful and excellent passes before their minds without exciting a corresponding emotion. Such are the effects pro VOL. I. Y duced by excessive and continued labour, and if the case is as I have represented it, nothing is more powerful in the corrupting of taste. Such are, in my opinion, the various causes which tend to produce a perversion and corruption of taste in a country. The over-strained desire for novelty, we have seen, exerts no small power; the loss of a spirit of independence, the corruption of the religious institutions of the country, and the indulgence in vice, selfish pursuits, and exces sive labour, are followed by deteriorating effects. It is singular however as well as fortunate that the evils resulting from the abovementioned causes can take place only with the concurrence of the nation at large. It is within the power of man to be on his guard against these, and as long as he does so, will taste flourish. Accord, ing to Lord Byron, Self-abasement paves the way To villain bonds and despot sway. And in like manner taste can become corrupted only, as it were, by a voluntary act. It may indeed be asserted that the taste of a country may be overturned by a foreign invasion, but however likely this may be in theory, I am disposed to think that in reality it cannot be the case. Pure taste encourages sentiments of virtue and courage, and is in fact one of the best safe-guards of the nation; and as long as it remains unvitiated, there is little reason for expecting an overthrow by foreign invasion. Greece would never have sunk beneath the power of Philip, had her taste been as perfect in the days of Demosthenes as it was in the time of Themistocles; and the incursion of the Goths upon the Roman empire would either have never taken place, or have been any thing else but successful, had the taste of the Augustan age continued in all its purity. Let me now return to the question I proposed in the beginning— have we reason for supposing that modern taste will continue to decline? That it may decline is certainly possible, but that it will actually do so seems to be countenanced by no solid reasoning. On the other hand, the arguments for a contrary opinion are strong. Men are not now in the same condition as they were when Greece and Rome successively arose and shone in their turn in the horizon of taste. With a better feeling knowledge seems to have gone abroad through the world, and all mankind alike are partaking of her benefits. While among the ancients only one nation at a time became conspicuous for its taste, which country of the modern world can we point out as in this respect excelling another? All are making wide and rapid strides in every walk of literature and the fine arts; by all are the universally allowed standards of perfection studied, relished, and understood; and each can point to some mighty soul in its own community which has raised its fame among the nations and cast a lustre of glory around its name. Add to this, that there never was a period, at which the nations of the world were more united among themselves than they are at present. The language of one country is well known in another, an extensive intercourse is established between them, and every thing in one, which is calculated to improve the taste of another, is transmitted with the utmost rapidity. Inventions are no sooner made on the Continent than they are known among us, and every thing more excellent than another, which British genius can produce, travels with speed through the rest of Europe. Let us look to our own country alone, and we will find ourselves at a loss to tell what period in her history is to be regarded as the exact æra of its taste. Shall we say that it was the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century, and bring forward the names of Shakspeare and Milton to prove our assertion? Shall we say that it was the age of Queen Anne and the first George, and instance the great names of Dryden and Pope? Or are the great spirits that adorn our own age sufficiently powerful to confer upon it the epithet of the æra of taste? In reality the present may stand a comparison with any preceding age. Few poets of a former day surpass the powers displayed by Byron. Scott and Campbell have added neverdying laurels to their country's fame, and the wonders of the Bard of Avon have nigh been equalled by the gigantic powers of the Scottish Novelist. In the improvement of all ranks in the community, the present age has never been equalled. Knowledge is extending her blissful influence over the land, and ignorance is flying before her steps. The peasant, the artisan, that a few years ago knew of nothing existing beyond the immediate sphere of his vision, is now led into the mysteries of nature and art, relishes their beauties, and becomes acquainted with the peformances of the genius of his country. Let us cast our eyes upon the state of the world at large, and the prospect is truly cheering and delightful. What changes for the better have a few years been able to bring about! The sound of the true religion is heard amid the wilds of America and on the plains of Hindostan, and the small islands of the Southern ocean, not long since immersed in savage barbarism, are now advancing fast in the career of civilization, in moral and religious improvement. Man indeed seems to be rapidly approaching to a state of universal knowledge and culture, and instead of thinking that taste will decline, we have every reason for the supposition that it will go on to improve. Nature besides is not sparing in her gifts, and though mankind may rise to a state of cultivation which we cannot anticipate, she is yet able to furnish scope for further exertion, while religion, diffusing a purer morality than the ancients knew, shall secure taste from corruption, and prevent the relish for all that is beautiful in nature and the fine arts from decaying. J. C. LINES, Suggested by the appearance of a Sea-fowl which hovered, during three days, over the field where the author was ploughing. BIRD of the ocean! why lingerest thou here, Where the rush of the waves may not reach thine ear? When friends are departed, sweet bird of the sea? Thou hast left thy mate, thou hast left thy home- |