more than the charms of a beautiful face the first time it is seen. But in a mind conversant with poetry, to which every object in nature recalls a thousand agreeable images, a great part of the pleasing effect must be referred to this source. Even here, however, association operates in a manner which illustrates and confirms the general theory, inasmuch as it produces its effect by making objects more significant than they were before; or, in other words, by rendering them the occasions of our conceiving intellectual and moral beauties, of which they are not naturally expressive.* Whatever opinion we adopt on this speculative question, there can be no dispute about the fact, that good actions and virtuous characters form the most delightful of all objects to the human mind; and that there are no charms in the external universe so powerful as those which recommend to us the cultivation of the qualities that constitute the perfection and the happiness of our nature. "Is aught so fair In all the dewy landscapes of the spring, "Look then abroad through nature, to the range Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose, When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud * See the profound and eloquent reflections with which Mr. Alison concludes the first chapter of his admirable Essays on the Nature and Principles of Taste, p. 62, et seq. last Edit. On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, It is no less evident that these two kinds of taste, (that for natural, and that for moral beauty) if not ultimately resolvable into the same principles, are at least very nearly allied, or very closely connected; insomuch * that every author, who has treated professedly of the one, has been insensibly led to illustrate his subject by frequent references to the other. Hence in poetry the natural and pleasing union of those pictures which recall to us the charms of external nature, and that moral painting which affects and delights the heart. The intentions of nature, in thus associating the ideas of the beautiful and the good, cannot be mistaken. Much I am persuaded, might be done by a judicious system of education, in following out the plan which nature has herself, in this instance, so manifestly traced; as we find, indeed, was done to a very great degree in those ancient schools, who considered it as the most important of all objects to establish such an union between philosophy and the fine arts, as might add to the natural beauty of virtue every attraction which the imagination could give her. Some pleasing illustrations of this idea occur in the poetry of Akenside; and many striking proofs of the practicability of the attempt might be drawn from the examples we daily see of the influence of association in concealing the meanness and deformity of fashionable vices. In enforcing, indeed, the precepts of practical morality as well as in conducting the business of general education, the ancients possessed important advantages over us. An unfortunate separation had not then taken place between the active and the speculative professions; nor was philosophy understood to be merely a fit subject of declamation and dispute for the period of academical instruction, which the experience of real * Nobly as this scene is painted by Akenside, he has rather weakened, by his amplifications, the effect of the simple narrative of Cicero. "Cæsare interfecto, statim cruentum alte extollens M. Brutus pugionem, Ciceronem nominatim exclamavit, atque ei recuperatam libertatem est gratulatus."-Cic. Phil. Sec. 12. life was soon to efface from the memory. The teachers of moral truth were men who had been themselves engaged in the important concerns of their country, and who ennobled their precepts by the lustre of their own example; and it was from their schools" warm," as the poet expresses it, "from the schools of glory," that the youth entered on the pursuits of business, or the career of ambition. "Magnus ex hoc usus, multum constantiæ, plurimum judicii juvenibus statim contingebat, in mediâ luce studentibus et inter ipsa discrimina." As for us, since the manners of modern Europe have rendered such a plan of education impossible by relegating philosophy to the shade of monastic retirement, what remains but to avail ourselves of the monuments which these illustrious men have left of their genius and of their virtues; and by exhibiting to youth the precepts of ancient wisdom dignified by the splendor of heroic action, to weaken as far as may be those prevailing and fatal prejudices which lead the dissipated and the thoughtless to apprehend, that in a conscientious regard to moral obligation, there is any thing incompatible with an enlightened understanding or a magnanimous spirit! It is fortunate for this purpose that the common system of education in this country, amidst all its defects, by inspiring the tender mind with a warm admiration of classical genius, has a tendency to associate in the imagination the noblest lessons of public and private virtue with all that can captivate the heart or delight the fancy. A judicious selection from the classics directed to this particular object of moral instruction, and cleared of all those erroneous maxims which originate in the peculiar manners and policy of antiquity, or in the superstitious opinions of heathen world, is still an important desideratum in our literature. It would be improper to bring this subject to a conclusion without mentioning the attempt which Mr. Hume has made to show, that what we call the Beauty of Virtue is the Beauty of Utility. For a particular examination and refutation of this opinion I shall refer the reader to Mr. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. Although, however, Mr. Smith differs from Mr. Hume in thinking that virtue pleases because we consider it to be useful, he agrees with him that all those qualities which we consider as amiable or agreeable are really useful either to ourselves or to others. In this respect their conclusions coincide with the doctrines of the Socratic school, and afford additional evidence of the beneficent solicitude with which nature allures us to the practice of our duty. "Do you imagine," says Socrates to Aristippus, "that what is good is not beautiful? Have you not observed that these appearances always coincide? Virtue, for instance, in the same respect as to which we call it good, is ever acknowledged to be beautiful also. In the character we always join the two denominations together.* The beauty of human bodies corresponds, in like manner, with that economy of parts which constitutes them good; and in every circumstance of life the same object is constantly accounted both beautiful and good, inasmuch as it answers the purposes for which it was designed." † SECTION III. Of the Perception of Merit and Demerit. The various actions performed by other men not only excite in our minds a benevolent affection towards them, or a disposition to promote their happiness, but impress us with a sense of the merit of the agents. We perceive them to be the proper objects of love and esteem, and that it is morally right that they should receive their reward. We feel ourselves called on to make their worth known to the world, in order to procure them the favor and respect they deserve; and if we allow it to remain secret we are conscious of injustice in suppressing the natural language of the heart. On the other hand when we are witnesses of an act of * Which the Athenians did by the words καλοκάγαθος and καλοκαγαθία. † Xenoph. Memorab. Lib. iii. c. 8. (The Translation is Akenside's.) selfishness, of cruelty, or of oppression, whether we ourselves are sufferers or not, we are not only inspired with aversion and hatred towards the delinquent, but find it difficult to restrain our indignation from breaking loose against him. By this natural impulse of the mind a check is imposed on the bad passions of individuals, and a provision is made even before the establishment of positive laws for the good order of society. In our own case how delightful are our feelings when we are conscious of doing well? By a species of instinct we know ourselves to be the object of the esteem and attachment of our fellow creatures, and we feel, with the evidence of a perception, that Heaven smiles on our labors, and that we enjoy the approbation and favor of the invisible witness of our conduct. Hence it is that we not only have a sense of merit, but an anticipation of reward, and look forward to the future with increased confidence and hope. Nor is this confidence weakened, provided we retain our integrity unshaken by the strokes of adverse fortune, but, on the contrary, we feel it increase in proportion to the efforts that we have occasion to make; and even in the moment of danger and of death it exhorts us to persevere, and assures us that all will be finally well with us. Hence the additional heroism of the brave when they draw the sword in a worthy cause. They feel themselves animated with tenfold strength, relying on the succor of an invisible arm, and seeming to trust, while employed in promoting the beneficent purposes of Providence, "that guardian angels combat on their side." Although, however, this sense of merit which accompanies the performance of good actions convinces the philosopher of the connexion which the Deity has established between virtue and happiness, he does not proceed on the supposition, that on particular occasions miraculous interpositions are to be made in his favor. That virtue is the most direct road to happiness he sees to be the case even in this world; but he knows that the Deity governs by general laws; and when he feels himself disappointed in the attainment of his wishes, he acquiesces in his lot, and looks forward with hope to futurity. It is an error of |