constructed according to any certain rule. It is clear that Nature, who is undoubtedly the most graceful artist, hath, in all her ornamental works, pursued variety, with an apparent neglect of regularity. Cabinets, doors, and windows, are made after a regular form, in cubes and parallelograms, with exact proportion of parts; and by being so formed they please the eye: for this good reason, that, being works of use, they are, by such figures, the better suited to the ends for which they were designed. But plants, flowers, and leaves, are full of variety and diversity. A straight canal is an insipid figure, in comparison of the mæanders of rivers. Cones and pyramids are beautiful; but trees growing in their natural wildness, are infinitely more beautiful than when trimmed into pyramids and cones. The apartments of a house must be regular in their disposition, for the conveniency of its inhabitants; but a garden which is designed merely for beauty, would be exceedingly disgusting, if it had as much uniformity and order in its parts as a dwelling-house.

Mr. Hogarth, in his Analysis of Beauty, has observed, that figures bounded by curve lines are, in general, more beautiful than those bounded by straight lines and angles. He pitches upon two lines, on which, according to him, the Beauty of figure principally depends; and he has illustrated and supported his doctrine, by a surprising number of instances. The one is the Waving Line, or a curve bending backwards and forwards, somewhat in the form of the letter S. This he calls the Line of Beauty; and shews how often it is found in shells, flowers, and. such other ornamental works of nature; as is com mon also in the figures designed by painters and

sculptors, for the purpose of decoration. The other line, which he calls the Line of Grace, is the former waving curve, twisted round some solid body. The curling worm of a common jack is one of the instances he gives of it. Twisted pillars, and twisted horns, also exhibit it. In all the instances which he mentions, Variety plainly appears to be so material a principle of Beauty that he seems not to err much when he defines the art of drawing pleasing forms, to be the art of varying well. For the curve line, so much the favourite of painters, derives, according to him, its chief advantage, from its perpetual bending and variation from the stiff regularity of the straight line.

Motion furnishes another source of Beauty, distinct from figure. Motion of itself is pleasing; and bodies in motion are," cæteris paribus," preferred to those in rest. It is, however, only gentle motion that belongs to the Beautiful; for, when it is very swift or very forcible, such as that of a torrent, it partakes of the Sublime. The motion of a bird gliding through the air is extremely beautiful; the swiftness with which lightning darts through the heavens is magnificent and astonishing. And here it is proper to observe, that the sensations of Sublime and Beautiful are not always distinguished by very distant boundaries; but are capable, in several instances, of approaching towards each other. Thus, a smooth running stream is one of the most beautiful objects in nature as it swells gradually into a great river, the Beautiful, by degrees, is lost in the Sublime. A young tree is a beautiful object; a spreading ancient oak is a venerable and a grand one. The calmness of a fine morning is beautiful; the universal stillness

of the evening is highly sublime. But to return to the Beauty of motion, it will be found, I think, to hold very generally, that motion in a straight line is not so beautiful as in an undulating waving direction; and motion upwards is, commonly too, more agreeable than motion downwards. The easy curling motion of flame and smoke may be instanced, as an object singularly agreeable; and here Mr. Hogarth's waving line recurs upon us as a principle of Beauty. That artist observes, very ingeniously, that all the common and necessary motions for the business of life are performed by men in straight or plain lines; but that all the graceful and ornamental movements are made in waving lines; an observation not unworthy of being attended to, by all who study the grace of gesture and action.

Though Colour, Figure, and Motion, be separate principles of Beauty; yet in many beautiful objects they all meet, and thereby render the Beauty both greater and more complex. Thus, in flowers, trees, animals, we are entertained at once with the delicacy of the colour, with the gracefulness of the figure, and sometimes also with the motion of the object. Although each of these produce a separate agreeable sensation, yet they are of such a similar nature, as readily to mix and blend in one general perception of Beauty, which we ascribe to the whole object as its cause for Beauty is always conceived by us as something residing in the object which raises the pleasant sensation; a sort of glory which dwells upon, and invests it. Perhaps the most complete assemblage of beautiful objects that can any where be found, is presented by a rich natural landscape, where there is a sufficient variety of objects: fields in verdure, scattered

trees and flowers, running water, and animals grazing. If to these be joined some of the productions of art which suit such a scene, as a bridge with arches over a river, smoke rising from cottages in the midst of trees, and the distant view of a fine building seen by the rising sun; we then enjoy, in the highest perfection, that gay, cheerful, and placid sensation which characterises Beauty. To have an eye and a taste formed for catching the peculiar beauties of such scenes as these, is a necessary requisite for all who attempt poetical description.

The Beauty of the human countenance is more complex than any that we have yet considered. It includes the Beauty of colour, arising from the delicate shades of the complexion; and the Beauty of figure, arising from the lines which form the different features of the face. But the chief Beauty of the countenance depends upon a mysterious expression, which it conveys of the qualities of the mind; of good sense, or good humour; of sprightliness, candour, benevolence, sensibility, or other amiable dispositions. How it comes to pass, that a certain conformation of features is connected in our idea with certain moral qualities; whether we are taught by instinct, or by experience, to form this connection, and to read the mind in the countenance; belongs not to us now to enquire, nor is indeed easy to resolve. The fact is certain, and acknowledged, that what gives the human countenance its most distinguishing Beauty, is what is called its expression; or an image, which it is conceived to shew of internal moral dispositions.

This leads us to observe, that there are certain qualities of the mind, which, whether expressed in

the countenance, or by words, or by actions, always raise in us a feeling similar to that of Beauty. There are two great classes of moral qualities; one is of the high and the great virtues, which require extraordinary efforts, and turn upon dangers and sufferings; as heroism, magnanimity, contempt of pleasures, and contempt of death. These, as I have observed in a former Lecture, excite in the spectator an emotion of Sublimity and Grandeur. The other class is generally of the social virtues, and such as are of a softer and gentler kind; as compassion, mildness, friendship, and generosity. These raise in the beholder a sensation of pleasure, so much akin to that produced by beautiful external objects, that, though of a more dignified nature, it may, without impropriety, be classed under the same head.

A species of Beauty, distinct from any I have yet mentioned, arises from design or art; or, in other words, from the perception of means being adapted to an end; or the parts of any thing being well fitted to answer the design of the whole. When in considering the structure of a tree, or a plant, we observe how all the parts, the roots, the stem, the bark, and the leaves, are suited to the growth and nutriment of the whole; much more when we survey all the parts and members of a living animal; or when we examine any of the curious works of art; such as a clock, a ship, or any nice machine; the pleasure which we have in the survey, is wholly founded on this sense of Beauty. It is altogether different from the perception of Beauty produced by colour, figure, variety, or any of the causes formerly mentioned. When I look at a watch, for instance, the case of it, if finely engraved, and of curious workmanship, strikes me as Beautiful