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Hume, David - Of The Delicacy Of Taste And Passion.Txt
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[TABLE NOT SHOWN]
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Copyright 1995, James Fieser (jfieser@utm.edu). See end note for
details on copyright and editing conventions. This is a working draft;
please report errors.[1]
Editor's note: "Of the Delicacy of Taste and Passion" appeared in 1741
in Volume one of Hume's Essays, Moral and Political. The text file
here is based on the 1777 edition of Hume's Essays and Treatises on
Several Subjects. Spelling and punctuation have not been modernized.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Of the Delicacy of Taste and Passion
SOME People are subject to a certain delicacy of passion,
which makes them extremely sensible to all the accidents of
life, and gives them a lively joy upon every prosperous event,
as well as a piercing grief, when they meet with misfortunes
and adversity. Favours and good offices easily engage their
friendship; while the smallest injury provokes their
resentment. Any honour or mark of distinction elevates them
above measure; but they are as sensibly touched with contempt.
People of this character have, no doubt, more lively
enjoyments, as well as more pungent sorrows, than men of cool
and sedate tempers: But, I believe, when every thing is
balanced, there is no one, who would not rather be of the
latter character, were he entirely master of his own
disposition. Good or ill fortune is very little at our
disposal: And when a person, that has this sensibility of
temper, meets with any misfortune, his sorrow or resentment
takes entire possession of him, and deprives him of all relish
in the common occurrences of life; the right enjoyment of
which forms the chief part of our happiness. Great pleasures
are much less frequent than great pains; so that a sensible
temper must meet with fewer trials in the former way than in
the latter. Not to mention, that men of such lively passions
are apt to be transported beyond all bounds of prudence and
discretion, and to take false steps in the conduct of life,
which are often irretrievable.
There is a delicacy of taste observable in some men, which
very much resembles this delicacy of passion, and produces the
same sensibility to beauty and deformity of every kind, as
that does to prosperity and adversity, obligations and
injuries. When you present a poem or a picture to a man
possessed of this talent, the delicacy of his feeling makes
him be sensibly touched with every part of it; nor are the
masterly strokes perceived with more exquisite relish and
satisfaction, than the negligences or absurdities with disgust
and uneasiness. A polite and judicious conversation affords
him the highest entertainment; rudeness or impertinence is as
great a punishment to him. In short, delicacy of taste has the
same effect as delicacy of passion: It enlarges the sphere
both of our happiness and misery, and makes us sensible to
pains as well as pleasures, which escape the rest of mankind.
I believe, however, every one will agree with me, that,
notwithstanding this resemblance, delicacy of taste is as much
to be desired and cultivated as delicacy of passion is to be
lamented, and to be remedied, if possible. The good or ill
accidents of life are very little at our disposal; but we are
pretty much masters what books we shall read, what diversions
we shall partake of, and what company we shall keep.
Philosophers have endeavoured to render happiness entirely
independent of every thing external. That degree of perfection
is impossible to be attained: But every wise man will
endeavour to place his happiness on such objects chiefly as
depend upon himself: and that is not to be attained so much by
any other means as by this delicacy of sentiment. When a man
is possessed of that talent, he is more happy by what pleases
his taste, than by what gratifies his appetites, and receives
more enjoyment from a poem or a piece of reasoning than the
most expensive luxury can afford.
Whatever connexion there may be originally between these two
species of delicacy, I am persuaded, that nothing is so proper
to cure us of this delicacy of passion, as the cultivating of
that higher and more refined taste, which enables us to judge
of the characters of men, of compositions of genius, and of
the productions of the nobler arts. A greater or less relish
for those obvious beauties, which strike the senses, depends
entirely upon the greater or less sensibility of the temper:
But with regard to the sciences and liberal arts, a fine taste
is, in some measure, the same with strong sense, or at least
depends so much upon it, that they are inseparable. In order
to judge aright of a composition of genius, there are so many
views to be taken in, so many circumstances to be compared,
and such a knowledge of human nature requisite, that no man,
who is not possessed of the soundest judgment, will ever make
a tolerable critic in such performances. And this is a new
reason for cultivating a relish in the liberal arts. Our
judgment will strengthen by this exercise: We shall form
juster notions of life: Many things, which please or afflict
others, will appear to us too frivolous to engage our
attention: And we shall lose by degrees that sensibility and
delicacy of passion, which is so incommodious.
But perhaps I have gone too far in saying, that a cultivated
taste for the polite arts extinguishes the passions, and
renders us indifferent to those objects, which are so fondly
pursued by the rest of mankind. On farther reflection, I find,
that it rather improves our sensibility for all the tender and
agreeable passions; at the same time that it renders the mind
incapable of the rougher and more boisterous emotions.
Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes,
Emollit mores, nec sinit isse feros.
For this, I think there may be assigned two very natural
reasons. In the first place, nothing is so improving to the
temper as the study of the beauties, either of poetry,
eloquence, music, or painting. They give a certain elegance of
sentiment to which the rest of mankind are strangers. The
emotions which they excite are soft and tender. They draw off
the mind from the hurry of business and interest; cherish
reflection; dispose to tranquillity; and produce an agreeable
melancholy, which, of all dispositions of the mind, is the
best suited to love and friendship.
In the second place, a delicacy of taste is favourable to love
and friendship, by confining our choice to few people, and
making us indifferent to the company and conversation of the
greater part of men. You will seldom find, that mere men of
the world, whatever strong sense they may be endowed with, are
very nice in distinguishing characters, or in marking those
insensible differences and gradations, which make one man
preferable to another. Any one, that has competent sense, is
sufficient for their entertainment: They talk to him, of their
pleasure and affairs, with the same frankness that they would
to another; and finding many, who are fit to supply his place,
they never feel any vacancy or want in his absence. But to
make use of the allusion of a celebrated French[2] author, the
judgment may be compared to a clock or watch, where the most
ordinary machine is sufficient to tell the hours; but the most
elaborate alone can point out the minutes and seconds, and
distinguish the smallest differences of time. One that has
well digested his knowledge both of books and men, has little
enjoyment but in the company of a few select companions. He
feels too sensibly, how much all the rest of mankind fall
short of the notions which he has entertained. And, his
affections being thus confined within a narrow circle, no
wonder he carries them further, than if they were more general
and undistinguished. The gaiety and frolic of a bottle
companion improves with him into a solid friendship: And the
ardours of a youthful appetite become an elegant passion.
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[1][COPYRIGHT: (c) 1995, James Fieser (jfieser@utm.edu), all
rights reserved. Unaltered copies of this computer text file
may be freely distribute for personal and classroom use.
Alterations to this file are permitted only for purposes of
computer printouts, although altered computer text files may
not circulate. Except to cover nominal distribution costs,
this file cannot be sold without written permission from the
copyright holder. When quoting from this text, please use the
following citation: The Writings of David Hume, ed. James
Fieser (Internet Release, 1995).
EDITORIAL CONVENTIONS: Spelling and punctuation have not been
modernized. Printer's errors have been corrected without note.
Bracketed comments within the end notes are the editor's. This
is a working draft. Please report errors to James Fieser
(jfieser@utm.edu).]
[2]Mons. FONTENELLE, Pluralite des Mondes. Soir. 6.
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⌐ 1996