material, matter or not matter: there is no medium. But if it be matter, does it not coincide with the body? If it be not matter, does it not coincide with the spirit ?”

But perhaps a way may be found of untying this knot, of unravelling this difficulty, by simply declaring the (at least probable) meaning of these three terms.

May not the Spirit mean (so it has been understood by the Christians in all ages) the highest principle in man, the immortal Spirit made in the image of God, endued (as all Spirits are, so far as we can conceive) with self-motion, understanding, will, and liberty?

Is not the Body, that portion of organized matter, which every man receives in the womb, with which he is born into the world, and which he carries with him to the grave? At present it is connected with flesh and blood. But these are not the body. They are only the temporary clothing of the body, which it wholly puts off in the grave.

The Soul seems to be the immediate clothing of the Spirit, the vehicle with which it is connected from its first existence, and which is never separated from it, either in life or in death. Probably it consists of ethereal or electric fire, the purest of all matter. It does not seem to be affected by the death of the body, but envelopes the separate as it does the embodied spirit: neither will it undergo any essential change, when it is clothed upon with the immortal body at the resurrection.

May not the apostle have an eye to this, in those remarkable words, (2 Cor. v. 4,) We that are in this tabernacle (this corruptible flesh and blood) do groan, being burdened: not for that we would be unclothed, (divested of all covering, which belongs only to the Father of Spirits,) but clothed upon with the glorious resurrection-body, covering both our soul and spirit. This will swallow up, totally destroy To To that which was mortal, namely, the flesh and blood, which alone was liable to death.

If we understood the words of the apostle in this sense, all the difficulty vanishes away. We allow, there can be no medium between material and immaterial. But still there is room for a wide and essential difference, between the soul and the body: the latter implying that original portion of matter which is now clothed with flesh and blood: the former, that vehicle of ethereal fire, which immediately covers the immortal spirit.

CONGLETON, March 31, 1786.

THOUGHTS ON SUICIDE.

* IT is a melancholy consideration, that there is no country in Europe, or perhaps in the habitable world, where the horrid crime of self-murder is so common as it is in England! One reason of this may be, that the English, in general, are more ungodly and more impatient than other nations. Indeed we have laws against it, and officers with juries are appointed, to inquire into every fact of the kind. And these are to give in their verdict upon oath, whether the self-murderer was sane or insane? If he is brought in insane, he is excused, and the law does not affect him. By this means it is totally eluded; for the juries constantly bring him in insane. So the law is not of the least effect, though the farce of a trial still continues.

This morning I asked a coroner, "Sir, did you ever know a jury bring in the deceased Felo-de-se ?" He answered, "No, Sir: and it is a pity they should." What then is the law good for? If all selfmurderers are mad, what need of any trial concerning them?

But it is plain our ancestors did not think so, or those laws had never been made. It is true, every self-murderer is mad in some sense, but not in that sense which the law intends. This fact does not prove him mad in the eye of the law: the question is, was he mad in other respects? If not, every juror is perjured who does not bring him in Felo-de-se.

But how can this vile abuse of the law be prevented, and this execrable crime effectually discouraged?

By a very easy method. We read in ancient history, that at a certain period, many of the women in Sparta murdered themselves. This fury increasing, a law was made, that the body of every woman that killed herself, should be exposed naked in the streets. The fury ceased at once.

Only let a law be made and rigorously executed, That the body of every self-murderer, lord or peasant, shall be hanged in chains, and the English fury will cease at once.

LIVERPOOL, April 8, 1790.

THOUGHTS UPON TASTE.

1. A FEW weeks ago I read with care and attention, a celebrated Essay on Taste. I cannot say, but I entered upon it with great expectation, as I knew the author to be a man of understanding, and one whose natural abilities were improved by a considerable

share of learning. I knew likewise that the performance itself had been highly and generally applauded: yea, that the Doctor had been honoured with the medal, which is yearly given by the Society, to him that produces the best performance on the subject proposed. 2. Yet to speak the plain truth, I cannot affirm, that it altogether answered my expectation. It did not appear to me, to be written upon a good plan, neither to be well digested. And there are assertions almost in every chapter, which are exceedingly disputable. Many of these could not clearly assert: some of them I utterly deny. Neither could I find in the whole tract, any clear, just definition of the subject. So that after all he has said, one would still be puzzled to answer the question, "What is Taste ?"

3. But is there any better book upon the subject extant? I do not conceive there is. At least I have not seen it: although there are some ingenious thoughts of Mr. Addison upon it in the SpectaAnd nearly related to this, is his fine "Essay on the Pleasures of Imagination." But Taste is a more extensive word. It does not relate to the imagination only.

tor.

4. It may be the more difficult to understand the precise meaning of the word, because there are so few words that are synonymous to it. I do not recollect any, either in Greek or Latin; no, nor yet in the English language. Indeed we have some which are generally supposed to be nearly equivalent with it. So a man of taste is almost the same with a man of genius, a man of sense, or a man of judgment: but none of these mean exactly the same thing. 5. "Most languages," says Mr. Addison, "make use of this metaphor to express that faculty of mind which distinguishes the most concealed faults and nicest perfections in writings." But this definition is far too narrow. For taste refers to other things as well as writings. And when he adds, It "is that faculty of the soul, which discovers the beauties of an author with pleasure, and his imperfections with dislike:" this is too narrow still: for Taste is concerned with many things beside authors.

6. What then is Taste, in the general meaning of the word? It is certainly a faculty of the mind, analogous to the sense of taste. By the external sense we relish various foods, and distinguish one from the other. By the internal, we relish and distinguish from each other various foods offered to the mind. Taste is, therefore, that internal sense, which relishes and distinguishes its proper object. By relishes, I mean, perceives with pleasure: for in the common acceptation of the word, we are not said, to have a taste for displeasing, but only for pleasing objects. And as various as those objects are, so various are the species of Taste.

7. Some of these are objects of the understanding. Such are all speculative truths; particularly those of a metaphysical or mathematical nature. So we say, a man has a taste for metaphysics; which is more than to say, He has judgment therein. It implies over and above, that he has a relish for them; that he finds a sweetness in the study of them. And when we say, a man has a taste for the VOL. 10.-P

mathematics, we mean by that expression, not only that he is capable of understanding them, but that he takes pleasure therein.

8. Another species of Taste, is that which relates to the objects that gratify the imagination. Thus we are accustomed to say, a man has a taste for grandeur, for novelty, or for beauty: meaning thereby, that he takes pleasure in grand, in new, or in beautiful objects, whether they are such by nature or by art. And herein there is an unbounded variety. I mean, in the different tastes of men: some having a taste for grandeur, some for beauty. Some again have a taste for one kind of beauty: and others for another. Some have a taste for the beauties of nature; others for those of art. The former for flowers, meadows, fields, or woods; the latter for painting or poetry. But some have a taste both for the one and the other.

9. But is there not likewise a kind of internal sense, whereby we relish the happiness of our fellow-creatures, even without any reflection on our own interest, without any reference to ourselves? Whereby we bear a part in the prosperity of others, and rejoice with them that rejoice? Surely there is something still in the human mind, in many, if not in all, (whether by nature, or from a higher principle,) which interests us in the welfare, not only of our relatives, our friends, and our neighbours, but of those who are at the greatest distance from us, whether in time or place. And the most generous minds have most of this taste for human happiness.

10. May we not likewise observe, that there is a beauty in virtue, in gratitude, and disinterested benevolence? And have not many at least a taste for this? Do they not discern and relish it, wherever they find it? Yea, does it not give them one of the most delicate pleasures, whereof the human mind is capable? Is not this taste of infinitely more value, than a taste for any or all the pleasures of imagination? And is not this pleasure infinitely more delicate than any that ever resulted, yea, or can result, from the utmost refinements of music, poetry, or painting?

11. As to Taste in general, internal as well as external Taste seems to belong to all mankind: although infinitely diversified, both as to the objects, and the degrees of it. When therefore we say, "A man has no taste," the words are not to be taken strictly, as if he had absolutely no taste at all, in any of the foregoing senses: seeing every man living has more or less, an internal, as well as external taste. But they are to be understood in a limited sense. He has no taste, suppose, for metaphysics: he has no discernment, and he has no pleasure in things of this abstracted nature. Another man has no taste for mathematics: he has neither pleasure nor judgment therein. Meantime the mathematician has no taste either for poetry or music. He does not discern, and he does not relish the beauties, either of one or the other. But every one of these has some internal taste, how dull soever it be.

12. A dull Taste is properly one that is faint and languid, that has no lively perception of its object. But sometimes, by a man of a dull taste, we mean one that relishes dull things: suppose dull, low

compositions in music or poetry, or coarse and worthless pictures. But this is more properly termed a bad taste. So one is hugely pleased with the daubing of a sign-post, another, with doggerel verses, and a third, with the heavenly music of a pair of bag-pipes! Almost every town and every village supplies us with instances of the same kind. We sometimes call this a false taste, as it supposes things to be excellent which are not. In many it is natural: they have had this wrong turn ever since they were born. But in others it is gradually acquired, either by reading or conversation. Then we term it a vitiated taste: of this, too, there are abundant instances.

13. On the other hand, he has a good, a just, or a true taste, which discerns and relishes whatever, either in the works of nature or of art, is truly excellent in its kind. This is sometimes termed a correct taste especially when it is delighted more or less, according to the greater or smaller degree of excellence that is in the object. This differs very little, if at all, from a fine taste: especially as Mr. Addison defines it, "That faculty of the mind which discerns with pleasure all the beauties of writing:" should it not be rather, "Which discerns all that is grand or beautiful, in the works both of art and nature ?"

14. Such a taste as this is much to be desired: and that on many accounts. It greatly increases those pleasures of life, which are not only innocent but useful. It qualifies us to be of far greater service to our fellow-creatures. It is more especially desirable for those whose profession calls them to converse with many seeing it enables them to be more agreeable, and consequently more profitable in conversation.

15. But how shall a man know, whether he is possessed of this faculty or not? Let him, says Mr. Addison, "Read over the celebrated works of antiquity," (to know whether he has a taste for fine writing,)," which have stood the test for so many ages and countries or those works among the moderns, which have the sanction of the politer part of our contemporaries. If, upon the perusal of such writings, he does not find himself delighted in an extraordinary manner, or if, upon reading the admired passages in such authors, he find a coldness and indifference in his thoughts, he ought to conclude, not (as is most common among tasteless readers,) that the author wants those perfections, which have been admired in them, but that he himself wants the faculty of discerning them."

16. But how can a man acquire this taste? It "must in some degree be born with us: as it often happens, that those who have other qualities in perfection, are wholly void of this. But though it may, in some measure, be born with us, there are several means of improving it, without which it will be very imperfect and of little use to the person that possesses it. The most natural means is, to be conversant with the writings of the best authors. One that has any taste, either discovers new beauties, or receives stronger impressions from the masterly strokes of a great author, every time he peruses him."