Of the Standard of Taste

Of the Standard of Taste

David Hume

1757

The great variety of Taste, as well as of opinion, which

prevails in the world, is too obvious not to have fallen under

every one's observation. Men of the most confined knowledge are

able to remark a difference of taste in the narrow circle of

their acquaintance, even where the persons have been educated

under the same government, and have early imbibed the same

prejudices. But those, who can enlarge their view to contemplate

distance nations and remote ages, are still more surprised at the

great inconsistence and contrariety. We are apt to call barbarous

whatever departs widely from our own taste and apprehension: But

soon find the epithet of reproach retorted on us. And the highest

arrogance and self-conceit is at last startled, on observing an

equal assurance on all sides, and scruples, amidst such a contest

of sentiment, to pronounce positively in its own favour.

As this variety of taste is obvious to the most careless

enquirer; so will it be found, on examination, to be still

greater in reality than in appearance. The sentiments of men

often differ with regard to beauty and deformity of all kinds,

even while their general discourse is the same. There are certain

terms in every language, which import blame, and others praise;

and all men, who use the same tongue, must agree in their

application of them. Every voice is united in applauding

elegance, propriety, simplicity, spirit in writing; and in

blaming fustian, affectation, coldness and a false brilliancy:

But when critics come to particulars, this seeming unanimity

vanishes; and it is found, that they had affixed a very different

meaning to their expressions. In all matters of opinion and

science, the case it opposite: The difference among men is there

oftener found to lie in generals than in particulars; and to be

less in reality than in appearance. An explanation of the terms

commonly ends the controversy; and the disputants are surprised

to find, that they had been quarreling, while at bottom they

agreed in their judgment.

Those who found morality on sentiment, more than on reason,

are inclined to comprehend ethics under the former observation,

and to maintain, that, in all questions, which regard conduct and

manners, the difference among men is really greater than at first

sight it appears. It is indeed obvious, that writers of all

nations and all ages concur in applauding justice, humanity,

magnanimity, prudence, veracity; and in blaming the opposite

qualities. Even poets and other authors, whose compositions are

chiefly calculated to please the imagination, are yet found, from

HOMER down to FENELON, to inculcate the same moral precepts, and

to bestow their applause and blame on the same virtues and vices.

This great unanimity is usually ascribed to the influence of

plain reason; which, in all these cases, maintains similar

sentiments in all men, and prevents those controversies, to which

the abstract sciences are so much exposed. So far as the

unanimity is real, this account may be admitted as satisfactory:

But we must also allow that some part of the seeming harmony in

morals may be accounted for from the very nature of language. The

word virtue, with its equivalent in every tongue, implies praise;

as that of vice does blame: And no one, without the most obvious

and grossest impropriety, could affix reproach to a term, which

in general acceptation is understood in a good sense; or bestow

applause, where the idiom requires disapprobation. HOMER's

general precepts, where he delivers any such will never be

controverted; but it is obvious, that, when he draws particular

pictures of manners, and represents heroism in ACHILLES and

prudence in ULYSSES, he intermixes a much greater degree of

ferocity in the former, and of cunning and fraud in the latter,

than FENELON would admit of . The same ULYSSES in the GREEK poet

seems to delight in lies and fictions; and often employs them

without any necessity of even advantage: But his more scrupulous

son, in the FRENCH epic writer, exposes himself to the most

imminent perils, rather than depart from the most exact line of

truth and veracity.

The admirers and follows of the ALCORAN insist on the

excellent moral precepts interspersed throughout that wild and

absurd performance. But it is to be supposed, that the ARABIC

words, which correspond to the ENGLISH, equity, justice,

temperance, meekness, charity, were such as, from the constant

use of that tongue, must always be taken in a good sense; and it

would have argued the greatest ignorance, not of morals, but of

language, to have mentioned them with any epithets, besides those

of applause and approbation. But would we know, whether the

pretended prophet had really attained a just sentiment of morals?

Let us attend to his narration; and we shall soon find, that he

bestows praise on such instances of treachery, inhumanity,

cruelty, revenge, bigotry, as are utterly incompatible with

civilized society. No steady rule of right seems there to be

attended to; and every action is blamed or praised, so far only

as it is beneficial or hurtful to the true believers.

The merit of delivering true general precepts in ethics is

indeed very small. Whoever recommends any moral virtues, really

does no more than is implied in the terms themselves. That

people, who invented the word charity, and use it in a good

sense, inculcated more clearly and much more efficaciously, the

precept, be charitable, than any pretended legislator or prophet,

who should insert such a maxim in his writings. Of all

expressions, those, which, together with their other meaning,

imply a degree either of blame or approbation, are the least

liable to be perverted or mistaken.

It is natural for us to seek a Standard of Taste; a rule,

by which the various sentiments of men may be reconciled; at

least, a decision, afforded, confirming one sentiment, and

condemning another.

There is a species of philosophy, which cuts off all hopes

of success in such an attempt, and represents the impossibility

of ever attaining any standard of taste. The difference, it is

said, is very wide between judgment and sentiment. All sentiment

is right; because sentiment has a reference to nothing beyond

itself, and is always real, wherever a man is conscious of it.

But all determinations of the understanding are not right;

because they have a reference to something beyond themselves, to

wit, real matter of fact; and are not always conformable to that

standard. Among a thousand different opinions which different men

may entertain of the same subject, there is one, and but one,

that is just and true; and the only difficulty is to fix and

ascertain it. On the contrary, a thousand different sentiments,

excited by the same object, are all right: Because no sentiment

represents what is really in the object. It only marks a certain

conformity or relation between the object and the organs or

faculties of the mind; and if that conformity did not really

exist, the sentiment could never possibly have being. Beauty is

no quality in things themselves: It exists merely in the mind

which contemplates them; and each mind perceives a different

beauty. One person may even perceive deformity, where another is

sensible of beauty; and every individual ought to acquiesce in

his own sentiment, without pretending to regulate those of

others. To seek in the real beauty, or real deformity, is as

fruitless an enquiry, as to pretend to ascertain the real sweet

or real bitter. According to the disposition of the organs, the

same object may be both sweet and bitter; and the proverb has

justly determined it to be fruitless to dispute concerning

tastes. It is very natural, and even quite necessary to extend

this axiom to mental, as well as bodily taste; and thus common

sense, which is so often at variance with philosophy, especially

with the skeptical kind, is found, in one instance at least, to

agree in pronouncing the same decision.

But though this axiom, by passing into a proverb, seems to

have attained the sanction of common sense; there is certainly a

species of common sense which opposes it, at least serves to

modify and restrain it. Whoever would assert an equality of

genius and elegance between OGILBY and MILTON, or BUNYAN and

ADDISON, would be thought to defend no less an extravagance, than

if he had maintained a mole-hill to be as high as TENERIFFE, or a

pond as extensive as the ocean. Though there may be found

persons, who give the preference to the former authors; no one

pays attention to such a taste; and we pronounce without scruple

the sentiment of these pretended critics to be absurd and

ridiculous. The principle of the natural equality of tastes is

then totally forgot, and while we admit it on some occasions,

where the objects seem near an equality, it appears an

extravagant paradox, or rather a palpable absurdity, where

objects so disproportioned are compared together.

It is evident that none of the rules of composition are

fixed by reasonings a priori, or can be esteemed abstract

conclusions of the understanding, from comparing those habitudes

and relations of ideas, which are eternal and immutable. Their

foundation is the same with that of all the practical sciences,

experience; nor are they any thing but general observations,

concerning what has been universally found to please in all

countries and in all ages. Many of the beauties of poetry and

even of eloquence are founded on falsehood and fiction, on

hyperboles, metaphors, and an abuse or perversion of terms from

their natural meaning. To check the sallies of the imagination,

and to reduce every expression to geometrical truth and

exactness, would be the most contrary to the laws of criticism;

because it would produce a work, which, by universal experience,

has been found the most insipid and disagreeable. But though

poetry can never submit to exact truth, it must be confined by

rules of art, discovered to the author either by genius or

observation. If some negligent or irregular writers have pleased,

they have not pleased by their transgressions of rule or order,

but in spite of these transgressions: They have possessed other

beauties, which were conformable to just criticism; and the force

of these beauties has been able to overpower censure, and give

the mind a satisfaction superior to the disgust arising from the

blemishes. ARIOSTO leases; but not by his monstrous and

improbable fictions, by his bizarre mixture of the serious and

comic styles, by the want of coherence in his stories, or by the

continual interruptions of his narration. He charms by the force

and clearness of his expression, by the readiness and variety of

his inventions, and by his natural pictures of the passions,

especially those of the gay and amorous kind: And however his

faults may diminish our satisfaction, they are not able entirely

to destroy it. Did our pleasure really arise from those parts of

his poem, which we denominate faults, this would be no objection

to criticism in general: It would only be an objection to those

particular rules of criticism, which would establish such

circumstances to be faults, and would represent them as

universally blameable. If they are found to please, they cannot

be faults; let the pleasure, which they produce, be ever so

unexpected and unaccountable.

But though all the general rules of art are founded only on

experience and on the observation of the common sentiments of

human nature, we must not imagine, that, on every occasion the

feelings of men will be conformable to these rules. Those finer

emotions of the mind are of a very tender and delicate nature,

and require the concurrence of many favourable circumstances to

make them play with facility and exactness, according to their

general and established principles. The least exterior hindrance

to such small springs, or the least internal disorder, disturbs

their motion, and confounds the operation of the whole machine.

When we would make an experiment of this nature, and would try

the force of any beauty or deformity, we must choose with care a

proper time and place, and bring the fancy to a suitable

situation and disposition. A perfect serenity of mind, a

recollection of thought, a due attention to the object; if any of

these circumstances be wanting, our experiment will be

fallacious, and we shall be unable to judge of the catholic and

universal beauty. The relation, which nature has placed between

the form and the sentiment will at least be more obscure; and it

will require greater accuracy to trace and discern it. We shall

be able to ascertain its influence not so much from the operation

of each particular beauty, as from the durable admiration, which

attends those works, that have survived all the caprices of mode

and fashion, all the mistakes of ignorance and envy.

The same HOMER, who pleased at ATHENS and ROME two thousand

years ago, is still admired at PARIS and at LONDON. All the

changes of climate, government, religion, and language, have not

been able to obscure his glory. Authority or prejudice may give a

temporary vogue to a bad poet or orator, but his reputation will

never be durable or general. When his compositions are examined

by posterity or by foreigners, the enchantment is dissipated, and

his faults appear in their true colours. On the contrary, a real

genius, the longer his works endure, and the more wide they are

spread, the more sincere is the admiration which he meets with.

Envy and jealousy have too much place in a narrow circle; and

even familiar acquaintance with his person may diminish the

applause due to his performances. But when these obstructions are

removed, the beauties, which are naturally fitted to excite

agreeable sentiments, immediately display their energy and while

the world endures, they maintain their authority over the minds

of men.

It appears then, that, amidst all the variety and caprice

of taste, there are certain general principles of approbation or

blame, whose influence a careful eye may trace in all operations

of the mind. Some particular forms or qualities, from the

original structure of the internal fabric, are calculated to

please, and others to displease; and if they fail of their effect

in any particular instance, it is from some apparent defect or

imperfection in the organ. A man in a fever would not insist on

his palate as able to decide concerning flavours; nor would one,

affected with the jaundice, pretend to give a verdict with regard

to colours. In each creature, there is a sound and a defective

state; and the former alone can be supposed to afford us a true

standard of a considerable uniformity of sentiment among men, we

may thence derive an idea of the perfect beauty; in like manner

as the appearance of objects in daylight, to the eye of a man in

health, is denominated their true and real colour, even while

colour is allowed to be merely a phantasm of the senses.

Many and frequent are the defects in the internal organs,

which prevent or weaken the influence of those general

principles, on which depends our sentiment of beauty or

deformity. Though some objects, by the structure of the mind, be

naturally calculated to give pleasure, it is not to be expected,

that in every individual the pleasure will be equally felt.

Particular incidents and situations occur, which either throw a

false light on the objects, or hinder the true from conveying to

the imagination the proper sentiment and perception.

One obvious cause, why many feel not the proper sentiment

of beauty, is the want of that delicacy of imagination, which is

requisite to convey a sensibility of those finer emotions. This

delicacy every one pretends to: Every one talks of it; and would

reduce every kind of taste or sentiment to its standard. But as

our intention in this essay is to mingle some light of the

understanding with the feelings of sentiment, it will be proper

to give a more accurate definition of delicacy, than has hitherto

been attempted. And not to draw our philosophy from too profound

a source, we shall have recourse to a noted story in DON QUIXOTE.

It is with good reason, says SANCHO to the squire with the

great nose, that I pretend to have a judgment in wine: this is a

quality hereditary in our family. Two of my kinsmen were once

called to give their opinion of a hogshead, which was supposed to

be excellent, being old and of a good vintage. One of them tastes

it; considers it; and after mature reflection pronounces the wine

to be good, were it not for a small taste of leather, which he

perceived in it. The other, after using the same precautions,

gives also his verdict in favour of the wine; but with the

reserve of a taste of iron, which he could easily distinguish.

You cannot imagine how much they were both ridiculed for their

judgment. But who laughed in the end? On emptying the hogshead,

there was found at the bottom, an old key with a leathern thong

tied to it.

The great resemblance between mental and bodily taste will

easily teach us to apply this story. Though it be certain, that

beauty and deformity, more than sweet and bitter, are not

qualities in objects, but belong entirely to the sentiment,

internal or external; it must be allowed, that there are certain

qualities in objects, which are fitted by nature to produce those

particular feelings. Now as these qualities may be found in a

small degree, or may be mixed and confounded with each other, it

often happens, that the taste is not affected with such minute

qualities, or is not able to distinguish all the particular

flavours, amidst the disorder, in which they are presented. Where

the organs are so fine, as to allow nothing to escape them; and

at the same time so exact as to perceive every ingredient in the

composition: This we call delicacy of taste, whether we employ

these terms in the literal or metaphorical sense. Here then the

general rules of beauty are of use; being drawn from established

models, and from the observation of what pleases or displeases,

when presented singly and in a high degree: And if the same

qualities, in a continued composition and in a small degree,

affect not the organs with a sensible delight or uneasiness, we

exclude the person from all pretensions to this delicacy. To

produce these general rules or avowed patterns of composition is

like finding the key with the leathern thong; which justified the

verdict of SANCHO's kinsmen, and confounded those pretended

judges who had condemned them. Though the hogshead had never been

emptied, the taste of the one was still equally delicate, and

that of the other equally dull and languid: But it would have

been more difficult to have proved the superiority of the former,

to the conviction of every by- stander. In like manner, though the

beauties of writing had never been methodized, or reduced to

general principles; though no excellent models had ever been

acknowledged; the different degrees of taste would still have

subsisted, and the judgment of one man had been preferable to

that of another; but it would not have been so easy to silence

the bad critic, who might always insist upon his particular

sentiment, and refuse to submit to his antagonist. But wen we

show him an avowed principle of art; when we illustrate this

principle by examples, whose operation, from his own particular

taste, he acknowledges to be conformable to the principle; when

we prove, that the same principle may be applied to the present

case, where he did not perceive or feel its influence: He must

conclude, upon the whole, that the fault lies in himself, and

that he wants the delicacy, which is requisite to make him

sensible of every beauty and every blemish, in any composition or

discourse.

It is acknowledged to be the perfection of every sense or

faculty, to perceive with exactness its most minute objects, and

allow nothing to escape its notice and observation. The smaller

the objects are, which become sensible to the eye, the finer is

that organ, and the more elaborate its make and composition. A

good palate is not tried by strong flavours; but by a mixture of

small ingredients, where we are still sensible of each part,

notwithstanding its minuteness and its confusion with the rest.

In like manner, a quick and acute perception of beauty and

deformity must be the perfection of our mental taste; nor can a

man be satisfied with himself while he suspects, that any

excellence or blemish in a discourse has passed him unobserved.

In this case, the perfection of the man, and the perfection of

the sense or feeling, are found to be united. A very delicate

palate, on many occasions, may be a great inconvenience both to a

man himself and to his friends: But a delicate taste of wit or

beauty must always be a desirable quality; because it is the

source of all the finest and most innocent enjoyments, of which

human nature is susceptible. In this decision the sentiments of

all mankind are agreed. Wherever you can ascertain a delicacy of

taste, it is sure to meet with approbation; and the best way of

ascertaining it is to appeal to those models and principles,

which have been established by the uniform consent and experience

of nations and ages.

But though there be naturally a wide difference in point of

delicacy between one person and another, nothing tends further to

encrease and improve this talent, than practice in a particular

art, and the frequent survey or contemplation of a particular

species of beauty. When objects of any kind are first presented

to the eye or imagination, the sentiment, which attends them, is

obscure and confused; and the mind is, in a great measure,

incapable of pronouncing concerning their merits or defects. The

taste cannot perceive the several excellences of the performance;

much less distinguish the particular character of each

excellency, and ascertain its quality and degree. If it pronounce

the whole in general to be beautiful or deformed, it is the

utmost that can be expected; and even this judgment, a person, so

unpracticed, will be apt to deliver with great hesitation and

reserve. But allow him to acquire experience in those objects,

his feeling becomes more exact and nice: He not only perceives

the beauties and defects of each part, but marks the

distinguishing species of each quality, and assigns it suitable

praise or blame. A clear and distinct sentiment attends him

through the whole survey of the objects; and he discerns that

very degree and kind of approbation or displeasure, which each

part is naturally fitted to produce. The mist dissipates, which

seemed formerly to hang over the object: the organ acquires

greater perfection in its operations; and can pronounce, without

danger of mistake, concerning the merits of every performance. In

a word, the same address and dexterity, which practice gives to

the execution of any work, is also acquired by the same means in

the judging of it.

So advantageous is practice to the discernment of beauty,

that, before we can give judgment of any work of importance, it

will even be requisite, that that very individual performance be

more than once perused by us, and be surveyed in different lights

with attention and deliberation. There is a flutter or hurry of

thought which attends the first perusal of any piece, and which

confounds the genuine sentiment of beauty. The relation of the

parts is not discerned: The true characters of style are little

distinguished: The several perfections and defects seem wrapped

up in a species of confusion, and present themselves indistinctly