replied, I could not deny, but that the account appeared probable.

IV. Let this, then, said he, suffice, as to the beginning of art. But how shall we describe its end? What is it we shall pronounce this?-My answer, I replied, must be the same as often already; which was, indeed, that I could not resolve the question. It should seem, said he, not so difficult, now we have discovered what beginning is. For if beginning and end are contraries and opposed, it is but to invert, as it were, the notion of beginning, and we gain of course the notion of end.—I asked him, in what manner?-Thus, said he, the beginning of art has been held to be something, which, if supposed away, men would be never moved to apply to art. By inversion, therefore, the end of art must be something, which, while supposed away, men will never cease applying to art; because, were they to cease, while the end was wanting, they would cease with imperfection, and their performance would be incomplete. To this I answered, That the account, however true, was by far too general, to give me much intelligence.

--

He replied, If it was, he would endeavour to be more particular. And what, continued he, should we say, that every art, according to its genius, will of course be accomplished either in some energy, or in some work; that, besides these two, it can be accomplished in nothing else; and consequently that one of these must of necessity be its end?—I could not here but answer him, with a smile, that the matter was now much obscurer than ever. I find, then, said he, it is proper we should be more explicit in our inquiries, and deduce our reasonings from some clearer point of view.-I told him, it was quite necessary, if he intended to be intelligible.

Thus, then, said he, You will grant, that every art, being a cause, must be productive of some effect: for instance, music, of a tune; dancing, of a dance; architecture, of a palace; and sculpture, of a statue. It is allowed, said I.-You will grant also, said he, that in these productions they are all accomplished only of all arts, but (joined to social affection) is the origin and cement of human society; see (besides the place here treated) page 4; and of the third treatise, s. 12.

Thus the poet in Stobæus, p. 515.
Χρειὼ πάντ ̓ ἐδίδαξε· τί δ' οὐ χρειώ κεν
ἀνεύροι ;

Need all things taught: what cannot need
invent?

Agreeably also to this, Virgil, in his first Georgic, having told us of the various changes to the worse which happened in the natural world immediately subsequent to the golden age, goes on to enumerate the several inventions of men, which were the natural result of this their newly indigent state. He at last sums up the

whole by saying,

Tum variæ venere artes: labor omnia vicit
Improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas.

Where (according to the doctrine in the Dialogue) want is made the beginning or origin of arts. The poet even refers this dispensation, this introduction of indigence, care, and solicitude, to the immediate will of Providence, acting for the good of mankind; lest plenty should lull them into slothful lethargy, so as to forget their noblest and most active faculties.

Pater ipse colendi Haud facilem esse viam voluit, primusque per

and ended; or, in other words, that as music produces a tune, so it is ended and accomplished in a tune; and as sculpture produces a statue, so is it ended and accomplished in a statue.It is admitted, said I.-Now these productions, continued he, if you will examine, are not like units or mathematical points; but, on the contrary, all consist of a certain number of parts, from whose accurate order is derived their beauty and perfection. For example: notes, ranged after such a manner, make a tune in music; and limbs, ranged after such a manner, make a statue or a picture. I replied, they did. If then the productions, continued he, of every art thus consist of certain parts, it will follow, that these parts will be either co-existent, or not; and if not co-existent, then of course successive.-Assist me, said I, by another instance, for you are growing again obscure.-Coexistent, replied he, as in a statue, where arms, legs, body, and head all subsist together at one individual instant: successive, as in a tune or dance, where there is no such co-existence, but where some parts are ever passing away, and others are ever succeeding them."

Can any thing be said to exist, said I, whose parts are ever passing away? Surely, replied he; or how else exist years and seasons, months and days, with their common parent, time itself? Or, indeed, what is human life, but a compound of parts thus fleeting; a compound of various and multiform actions, which succeed each other in a certain order?"-The fact, said 1, appears so.

This then, continued he, being the case, and there being this difference in productions, call every production, the parts of which exist successively, and whose nature hath its being or essence in a transition, call it, what it really is, a motion or an energy: thus a tune and a dance are energies; thus riding and

" This division of beings or productions we find mentioned by Aristotle in his Physics, (l. iii. c. 8.) where, explaining his doctrine concerning infinite, he says, 'AAA' ἐπεὶ πολλάκις τὸ εἶναι, ὥσπερ ἡ ἡμέρα ἐστὶ, καὶ ὁ ἀγὼν, τῷ ἀεὶ ἄλλο καὶ ἄλλο γίνεσθαι, οὕτω καὶ τὸ ἄπειρον. “Inasmuch as being is manifold, such as is the being of a day, or public festival, (which exist by continually becoming something further,) such also is the being and nature of infnite.” The same sentiment soon after is more fully explained and opened: Ὥστε τὸ ἄπειρον οὐ δεῖ λαμβάνειν, ὡς τόδε τι, οἷον ἄνθρωπον, ἢ οἰκίαν· ἀλλ ̓ ὡς ἡμέρα λέγεται, καὶ ὁ ἀγὼν οἷς τὸ εἶναι, οὐκ ὡς οὐσία τὶς γέγονεν, ἀλλ ̓ ἀεὶ ἐν γενέσει καὶ poopa. "We are not to conceive of infinite, as of a positive particular substance, like a man or a house; but rather as we pronounce existence of a day, or public festival, which have their essence, not as

sensible, individual substances, but by a continued procedure of being and ceasing to be." Vid. Scalig. de Caus. Ling. Lat. 1. iii. c. 72. p. 124. Aristot. Categ. c. 6. Ammon. Com. εἰς Κατ. p. 82. b. Scal. Poetic. 1. iii. c. 1. p. 82.

It is not inelegantly said in the Ethics, so often referred to, 'H de Swǹ èvépyeiá tís ἐστι, καὶ ἕκαστος περὶ ταῦτα καὶ τούτοις ἐνεργεῖ & καὶ μάλιστα ἀγαπᾷ οἷον ὁ μὲν μουσικὸς, τῇ ἀκοῇ περὶ τὰ μέλη, ὁ δὲ φιλο μαθὴς, τῇ διανοία περὶ τὰ θεωρήματα· οὕτω δὲ καὶ τῶν λοιπῶν ἕκαστος. “Life is a certain energy, and each man energizes about those subjects, and with those faculties, for which he hath the greatest affection: the musician, with his hearing, about sounds harmonious ; the studious, with his intellect, about matters of speculation: and, in like manner, each man else of the various sorts beside." Ethic. L. x. c. 4.

sailing are energies; and so is elocution, and so is life itself. On the contrary, call every production, whose parts exist all at once, and whose nature depends not on a transition for its essence, call it a work, or thing done, not an energy or operation. Thus a house is a work, a statue is a work, and so is a ship, and so a picture. I seem, said I, to comprehend you.

If, then, there be no productions, said he, but must be of parts, either co-existent or successive; and the one of these be, as you perceive, a work, and the other be an energy; it will follow, there will be no production, but will be either a work or an energy. There will not, said I.-But every art, said he, you have granted, is accomplished and ended in what it produces?— I replied, I had.—And there are no productions, but works or energies?-None.

It will follow, then, said he, that every art will be accomplished and ended in a work or energy.P

To this I answered, that his reasoning I could not impeach;

but that still the distinction of work and energy was what I did not well comprehend. There are several circumstances, said he, which will serve sufficiently to make it clear. I begged he would mention some.

Thus, then, said he, when the production of any art is an energy, then the perfection of the art can be only perceived during that energy. For instance, the perfection of a musician is only known while he continues playing. But when the production of any art is a work, then is not the perfection visible during the energy, but only after it. Thus the perfection of the statuary is not seen during his energies as a statuary, but when his energies are over; when no stroke of the chisel is wanting, but the statue is left as the result of all.—It is true, said I.

Again, continued he, in consequence of this, where the production is an energy, there the production is of necessity coeval with the artist. For how should the energy survive the man; the playing remain when the musician is dead? But where the production is a work, then is there no such necessity. The work may well remain, when the artist is forgotten; there being no more reason, that the statue and the artist should be coeval, than the man and the rude marble, before it received a regular figure. You seem now, said I, to have explained yourself.

If, then, said he, work and energy be made intelligible terms, you cannot but perceive the truth of what we before asserted, that every art, according to its genius, must needs be accomplished in one of these; that, except in these two, it can be accomplished in nothing else; and, consequently, that one of these must of necessity be its end. I answered, that the reasoning appeared justly deduced. So much, then, replied he, for the ending or accomplishment of art; and so much also for a long, and, I fear, an intricate disquisition.

V. He had no sooner said this, than I was beginning to applaud him; especially on his having treated a subject so copiously, started, as it were, by chance, and without any apparent preparation. But I had not gone far, before he interrupted me, by saying, that as to my praises they were more than he deserved; that he could pretend to no great merit for having been, as I called it, so copious, when he had so often before thought on what at present we had been talking.-In short, says he, to tell you a secret, I have been a long time amusing myself in forming an essay upon this subject. I could not here forbear reproaching him, for having hitherto concealed his intentions. My reproaches produced a sort of amicable controversy, which at length ended in his offering, that, to make me some amends, he would now recite me (if I pleased) a small fragment of the piece; a fragment which he had happened accidentally to have about him. The proposal, on my part, was willingly accepted, and without further delay the papers were produced.

As to the performance itself, it must be confessed, in point of style, it was somewhat high and florid, perhaps even bordering upon an excess. At the time however of recital, this gave me less offence, because it seemed, as it were, to palliate the dryness of what had passed before, and in some sort to supply the place of an epilogue to our conference. Not however to anticipate, he began reading as follows:

"O Art! thou distinguishing attribute and honour of human kind! who art not only able to imitate Nature in her graces, but (what is more) even to adorn her with graces of thy own. Possessed of thee, the meanest genius grows deserving, and has a just demand for a portion of our esteem. Devoid of thee, the brightest of our kind lie lost and useless, and are but poorly distinguished from the most despicable and base. When we inhabited forests in common with brutes, nor otherwise known from them than by the figure of our species, thou taughtest us to assert the sovereignty of our nature, and to assume that empire for which Providence intended us. Thousands of utilities owe their birth to thee; thousands of elegancies, pleasures, and joys, without which life itself would be but an insipid possession.

"Wide and extensive is the reach of thy dominion. No element is there either so violent or so subtle, so yielding or so sluggish, as by the powers of its nature to be superior to thy direction. Thou dreadest not the fierce impetuosity of fire, but compellest its violence to be both obedient and useful. By it thou softenest the stubborn tribe of minerals, so as to be formed and moulded into shapes innumerable. Hence weapons, armour, coin; and previous to these, and other thy works and energies, hence all those various tools and instruments which empower thee to proceed to further ends more excellent. Nor is the subtle air less obedient to thy power, whether thou willest it to be a minister to our pleasure, or utility. At thy command it giveth birth to sounds, which charm the soul with all the powers of harmony. Under thy instruction it moves the ship over seas, while that yielding element, where otherwise we sink, even water itself is by thee taught to bear us; the vast ocean to promote that intercourse of nations, which ignorance would imagine it was destined to intercept. To say how thy influence is seen on earth, would be to teach the meanest what he knows already. Suffice it but to mention fields of arable and pasture; lawns

This alludes to a capital distinction of art, taken from a view of her different ends. Art may in some respects be said to finish nature; in others, to imitate her. She finishes her, where nature, having given the powers, is of herself unable to give them perfection. It is thus the gymnastic arts, dancing, riding &c., finish the corporeal powers; while the sublimer arts, logic,

rhetoric, moral virtue, &c., finish the mental. Where she does not finish nature, she imitates her, as in sculpture, painting, dramatic poetry, &c.

Aristotle expresses the above sentiment as follows: Ολως τε ἡ τέχνη τὰ μὲν ἐπιτελεῖ, ἂν ἡ φύσις ἀδυνατεῖ ἀπεργάζεσθαι, rà de mueîrai. Physic. l. ii. c. 8.