fluctuation. It was the business of philosophy to contemplate species or universals; and, as physics determined the nature and essence of each particular species, so metaphysics considered the general nature of universals, and their distribution into different sorts; and logics taught the rules for assigning to individual objects their place in the general classes. The first of these sciences was subordinate to the second, and both were confounded under the common name of Dialectic.

The Academics held that the eternal principles, out of which the Deity formed the world, were three in number, viz. the subject-matter, the specific essence, and the sensible product itself. The last has only a transient and fleeting existence; and it was incapable, therefore, of being the object of science, which embraces only things permanent, unchangeable, and liable neither to generation, nor corruption, nor alteration of any kind.' Such are the external essences or ideas, the exemplars, according to Plato, after which the Deity, from his infinite essence, fashioned this material universe. The term idea, in the writings of the Athenian philosophers, had a very different meaning from that which it afterward acquired among the later Platonists, and which has descended to modern times. It was perfectly synonymous to the other word ados, denoting # sensible species, and had originally no affinity to worx, which signified a thought or conception. This point is clearly made out by Dr. Smith in a learned note; which likewise exposes the ab surdity of the double doctrine by many imputed to the rhetorical founder of the academy. Those primordial ideas were even supposed to have a separate place of existence, beyond the sphere of the visible corporeal world. There, at some former period, the mind had an opportunity of contemplating Universal Nature:-but, in the present scene of things, we are conversant with individual objects only. Immersed in this gross body, and overwhelmed by turbulent emotions, the soul forgets the noble and general conceptions which were acquired in a prior state. Yet, as external objects must reflect, however faintly, the images of their great archetypes, the memory of our original ideas can never be wholly effaced. The aim of all human study is the reminiscence of our obscured ideas: philosophy instructs us to withdraw our attention from individual things, and to strive to regain the sublime knowlege which illumined our anterior existence. It thus incites to progressive advancement, preparing its true votaries to meet death with placid joy, as the consummation most devoutly to be wished," that delivers them from this mortal prison, and restores them to the extatic vision of Universal Beauty.

Such

Such was the doctrine of Plato; which, as Dr. Smith very justly remarks, after having copiously explained it, is, like many other doctrines of abstract philosophy, more coherent in expression than in idea; and which seems to have arisen, more from the nature of language, than from the nature of things.' In the dawning of science, it was indeed excusable. To investigate the origin of our ideas requires no common depth of research ; and the real nature of abstraction eluded even the sagacity of Locke, and was never correctly stated before the time of Berkeley and Hume.

The metaphysical system of Plato, being expressed in very general and smooth language, was adapted to please the indolent imagination, and might have gained a durable authority, but for the rivalship and penetration of Aristotle. This renowned philosopher held that the stuff and species, the components of sensible objects, were prior to them in nature, not in time. He distinguished between actual and potential existence the specific essence could exist potentially in a separate state, but could not exist actually without being embodied in some particular mass. To the two principles of matter and form, which, with Plato, he adopted from the Pythagorean school, was added a third,-that of privation,-a generative principle.

All

The tenets of the Stoics were allied to those of Plato and Aristotle, though couched in very different language. things, they supposed, are compounded of two principles, matter and cause; on the former of which depended the active, and on the latter the passive, powers of bodies. This cfficient principle was the Deity, or the emanation of the athereal and divine nature.

The notion of specific essences was the source of many singular metaphysical opinions of the antients. Hence those of generation, corruption, and alteration; of mixture, condensation, and rarefaction; and hence, too, was derived the doctrine of the Five Universals, so famous in the schools by the names of Genus, Species, Differentia, Proprium, and Accidens. Here the fragment of our lamented philosopher somewhat abruptly terminates.-Whatever encomiums the poetry, the oratory, and the geometry of the antients justly deserve; however much we may admire the beauty of their historical compositions, and the sublimity of their ethical systems;-it must be confessed that their philosophy, whether physical or moral, affords little in these times to satisfy an inquisitive mind, or that will bear the scrutiny of accurate criticism.

The piece next in the order of the collection is a tolerably complete essay on

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THE NATURE OF THAT IMITATION WHICH TAKES PLACE IN WHAT ARE CALLED THE IMITATIVE ARTS.

It is divided into three portions; the first relating to Statuary and Painting, the second to Music, and the last to Dancing. 1. Painting and Statuary. The principle that pervades this section is, that the pleasure which we derive from the productions of art depends on the distance of the copy from the subject imitated; or, in other words, is proportioned to the difficulty surmounted in the execution:-a principle clearly enough deduced from the observations here advanced, and which has certainly a most extensive influence in forming our judgments, though it would be impossible perhaps to resolve the complex affection excited in our imagination by the works of design into any single sentiment. In the Fine Arts, the most perfect copy, resembling its original in each particular, is always viewed with indifference, as a servile imitation, and as devoid of genius and invention. Such exact similitude is only admitted among correspondent objects; and even then, it must frequently be confined merely to the outline, and will offend the eye if observed with too great minuteness:-but the resemblance to an object of a different kind, if effected with skill, often possesses considerable merit. A painted cloth, (says Dr. Smith,) the work of some laborious Dutch artist, so curiously shaded and coloured as to represent the pile and softness of a woollen one, might derive some merit from its resemblance even to the sorry carpet which now lies before me. The copy might, and probably would, in this case be of much greater value than the original.' In Statuary and Sculpture, one solid is made to resemble another: but, in Painting, a surface is made to imitate all the three dimensions of a solid. This art presents a wider disparity than the former between the copy and the original; it admits a larger range of subjects; and it is therefore more capable of affording delight to the imagination, The painter may represent objects that are naturally mean, low, or disgusting; and yet his production, by the power of imitation alone, shall give pleasure. The picture of deformity itself, the portrait of an Esop or a Scarron, by an able master, may compose an agreeable piece of furniture. It is not so with Statuary, which is difficult in its choice, and rejects with disdain whatever is ordinary, humble, or indifferent. It exhibits heroes and gods the most perfect of forms in the noblest of attitudes, and in the most interesting of situations. The imitation of the sculptor would appear tame and flat, if he did not catch the animation of ideal beauty and ideal grace. Painting loves magnificence of attire, and is advantageously employed in

copying

copying the large, loose, and flowing folds of rich vestments: Statuary reluctantly allows any drapery. The antient statues were generally naked, or, if any part of the body was covered, it was represented clothed in wet linen-thin, tight, and almost transparent,- that shaded without concealing each delicate lineament. Colours, too, which are so essential to Painting, have always a bad effect in Statuary, because they take away the disparity of the imitating and imitated objects. Artificial fruits and flowers may offer a correct resemblance, but they soon appear insipid. The foliage of the Corinthian capital is always an object of admiration. In a piece of tapestry, we are satisfied with a very inferior sort of imitation compared to that which we expect in a picture. We are sensible of the imperfection of the materials, and are disposed to give full credit for the skill, labour, time, and expence required in the execution. Tapestry, being a sumptuous article of furniture; is confined to decorate the palaces of grandees, and this imposing association abundantly compensates for its want of intrinsic beauty.

Pursuing this argument, Dr. Smith mentions, as a farther illustration, those columns, pyramids, and obelisks, into which we see yews and other evergreens sometimes cut by the gardener's shears. The imitation is attempted with very remote objects, and to conquer that interval is a work of no small ingenuity and application. The time was when, even in this country, ornaments of that kind were in high vogue; and if they have lately fallen into contempt, it is owing, our author thinks, to the affluent circumstances of the middling classes, which render those luxuries too frequent and too easily obtained. For an opposite reason, they continued in France under the monarchy to be held in repute. On the other hand, how would Dr. Smith account for the prevalence of that taste in Holland, where the great body of the people are unquestionably more substantial than in England?The pleasure derived from the imitative arts of Painting and Statuary is never the effect of deception, but is founded solely in our admiration of that ingenuity which so happily surmounts the disparity established by Nature:

In Statuary, the means by which the wonderful effect is brought about appear more simple and obvious than in Painting; where the disparity between the imitating and the imitated object being much greater, the art which can conquer that greater disparity appears evidently, and almost to the eye, to be founded upon much deeper science, or upon principles much more abstruse and profound. Even in the meanest subjects we can often trace with pleasure the ingenious means by which Painting surmounts this disparity. But we canpot do this in Statuary, because the disparity not being so great, the

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the means do not appear so ingenious. And it is upon this account, that in Painting we are often delighted with the representation of many things, which in Statuary would appear insipid, tiresome, and hot worth the looking at.

It ought to be observed, however, that though in Statuary the art of imitation appears, in many respects, inferior to what it is in Painting, yet, in a room ornamented with both statues and pictures of nearly equal merit, we shall generally find that the statues draw off our eye from the pictures. There is generally but one, or little more than one, point of view from which a picture can be seen with advantage, and it always presents to the eye precisely the same object. There are many different points of view from which a statue may be seen with equal advantage, and from each it presents a different object. There is more variety in the pleasure which we receive from a good statue, than in that which we receive from a good picture; and one statue may frequently be the subject of many good pictures or drawings, all different from one another. shadowy relief and projection of a picture, besides, is much flattened, and seems almost to vanish away altogether, when brought into comparison with the real and solid body which stands by it. How nearly soever these two arts may seem to be a-kin, they accord so very ill with one another, that their different productions ought, perhaps, scarce ever to be seen together.'

The

2. Music. This section displays an extension of the same general idea, and abounds with fine remarks and eloquent passages.-Music and Dancing are certainly the earliest pleasures. of man's invention, and the most universally diffused, nay culti vated with enthusiasm among the rudest nations. Rythmus, Time, or Measure, is the connecting principle of those two arts; the one consisting in a succession of sounds, the other in a succession of steps, both regulated to form a system. As vocal unquestionably preceded instrumental music, the first songs would naturally borrow the words and tones of conversation. Those words, however, had in the infancy of society most probably no meaning, but only assisted the voice to modulate the sounds, and to shorten or prolong them according to the measure of the tune. In succeeding ages, other significant words would gradually be substituted;-and hence the origin of Verse or Poetry. The Verse long continued imperfect, and the utmost licence was used in pronunciation, to accommodate the rythm: quantity was violated, and an unmeaning syllable was inserted as often as it suited convenience. Such are the expedients employed in the verses of Chaucer, the father of English poetry -The verse, blended with the music,

*We doubt whether this ingenious remark be altogether well founded. The addition y, for instance, in y-clept, &c. which so often occurs.