the place of perception, object, and even of the mind itself, and have supplanted those very things they were brought to explain.'

"It might be reasonably concluded, that this theory, which has so long prevailed in the world, and been so implicitly admitted as to sanction conclusions apparently the most absurd, rendered our notion of perception, as well as the other intellectual faculties, very clear and intelligible. This, however, is by no means the case; for, if we apply the theory to any other of the senses, except sight, it is altogether incomprehensible. I can indeed understand what is meant by an image or representation of visible forms or colours, because, I know that such images are painted on the retina of the eye; and this fact seems to have afforded the origin of the whole hypothesis. But what is meant by the image or idea of a taste, of a smell, a sound, of sourness or sweetness, of loud ness or lowness, of hardness or softness, I confess,myself perfectly at a loss to determine. Much less can I pretend to understand what is meant by the images of intellectual objects, of truth or falsehood, fitness or unfitness, virtue or vice. "Again, if we should ask, where are these images exhibited, and of what kind of materials are they formed it would be difficult to obtain an answer from those who have most strenuously espoused the theory. It would seem, from the writings of Descartes, that he sometimes places the ideas of material objects in the brain, not only when they are perceived, but when they are remembered or imagined; but at other times he says, that we are not to conceive the images or traces in the brain to be perceived, as if there were eyes in the brain; these

traces being only occasions on which, by the laws of the union of soul and body, ideas are excited in the mind. Mr. Locke also seems to have wavered between these two opinions, sometimes representing the ideas of material things as being in the brain, but more frequently in the mind itself. Other philosophers, among whom we may rank Newton and Dr. Clarke, speak of the images of material things as being in that part of the brain called the sensorium, and perceived by the mind, there present: but Newton speaks of this point only incidentally, and, with his usual modesty, in the form of a query. As for Berkeley, his system leaves no brain on which the images could be traced; and the system of Mr. Hume leaves neither a brain nor a mind for the reception of his impressions and ideas.

་

"As to the particular nature or substance of the images, philosophers are generally silent. Mr. Locke indeed says, that our sensations are produced in us by different degrees and modes of mo tion in our animal spirits, variously agitated by external objects: and again, that, by the faculties of memory and imagination, the mind has an ability, when it wills, to revive them again, and, as it were, to paint them anew upon itself, though some with more, some with less difficulty.' Dr. Robert Hook is almost the only author who is explicit on this subject. He informs us (Lect. on Light, sect. 7.) that ideas are completely material substances, and that the brain is furnished with a proper kind of matter for fabricating the ideas of each sense. The ideas of sight, he thinks, are formed of a kind of matter resembling the Bononian stone, or some kind of phosphorus ;

the

the ideas of sound, of some matter resembling the chords or glasses which take a sound from the vibration of the air; and so of the rest. Were this doctrine any thing like the truth, we might reasonably expect to obtain a view of these ideas by a careful dissection of the brain; which, however, has not yet been found to be the case.

"What then, it may beasked, can be the cause of the very general reception of an hypothesis which is replete with so many inconsistencies and difficulties, insomuch that it rather obscures than enlightens the doctrine which it is brought to explain? This seems to be ascribable to a prejudice which is deeply rooted in the human mind, and has even been admitted, from remote antiquity, as a philosophical axiom, or self-evident principle, namely, that nothing can act, or be acted upon, but when and where it is present. It seems a necessary consequence, from this principle, that when the mind perceives, either the objects of its perception must come into it, or it must go out of the body to these objects. The first of these opinions has generally been adopted as the most rational. We see,' says Malebranche, the sun, the stars, and an infinity of objects without us; and it is not at all Jikely that the soul sallies out of the body, and, as it were, takes a walk through the heavens to contemplate all these objects.' Yet the author of the Antient Metaphysics has, among his other singula rities, espoused this last opinion.

"The origin of this prejudice, that all action is the effect of contact, it is not difficult to assign. This is the only manner in which we ourselves can act upon external objects; and it is the manper in which all our external senses

are acted upon by these objects, either immediately, or by the intervention of some known medium, such as the rays of light, the undu lations of the air, or the effluvia of odoriferous bodies. Yet, after all, when we come to examine the matter a little more nearly, we no more understand how bodies act upon one another when in contact, than when at a distance; and we should never have found out, indepen dently of actual experience, that motion is the effect of contact or impulse. Nay, if the system of Boscovich be true, there is no such thing as real contact in nature, nor is such a thing possible. Again, there are many natural phenomena, such as those of gravitation, magnetism, electricity, &c. which appear to be produced by the mu, tual action of bodies at a distance from one another. For though we have various hypotheses of inter vening media, ethers, or effluvia, which are intended to explain these phenomena, all these are mere sup positions, destitute of the least sha dow of proof. The inference is, that the maxim above stated is to be ranked among those vulgar prejudices which, though very generally received, are without any real foundation in nature.

"If we seek for any other proof of the ideal theory, in the writings of those who have espoused it, than this generally received prejudice, we shall seek in vain. They all appear to assume the existence of ideas as a thing self evident, and of which, therefore, no proof will be expected, I presume,' say Mr. Locke, it will be granted me that there are such ideas in men's minds; every man is conscious of them in himself, and men's words and actions will satisfy him that they are in others.'—' It is evident

be says again, the mind knows not things immediately, but only by the intervention of the ideas it has of them.' Berkeley, indeed, infers the reality of ideas from this circumstance, that magnitude and figure, as perceived by the eye, and as perceived by the touch, are things, in appearance, very different; and Mr. Hume employs a similar argument when he says, ، The table which we see, seems to diminish as we remove farther

from it; but the real table, which exists independent of us, suffers no alteration. It was, therefore, nothing but its image which was present to the mind." But the known laws of optics are a sufficient answer to such reasonings, and prove, that tangible magnitude must assume the precise appearances to the eye which it is known to assume. There is, in truth, an image in such cases, but it is not in the mind, but in the retina of the eye."

"THE

HE Esther of Racine was performed at the theatre of the Republic, for the benefit of madame Vestris. This celebrated piece was then very coldly received, therefore it is interesting to lock back to the seventeenth century, and call to remembrance a certain evening when it threw the whole female world into the most violent emotion. It was the 3rd of February, 1689.--Racine, after his Phedra had gained him so great a reputation, willingly gave up the the atre a prey to his rivals, and resolved to write no more for the stage. Pradon remained master of the field of battle, on which account Boileau said:

*Et la scene Française est en proie à Pradon."

Racine had, from religious enthusiasm, already for twelve years given up the profane art of poetry; when suddenly, religious duty again put the lyre into his hand. Madame de Maintenon, who, above all things, was very attentive, that the young ladies who belonged to the convent of St. Cyr should re

ceive a suitable education, once loudly lamented, that their lovely lips should be allowed to sing and declaim the most beautiful verses, because they all treated of profane subjects. She asked Racine, if i was not possible to unite poetry, music, and piety together? Racine found her ideas very edifying, but also very troublesome to himself. Willingly would he have resigned the honour of perfecting them to another. · He had not for twelve years made a single rhime-what would his enemies say ? and if, now, even the common fate of mankind should happen to him?-if his fame should be extinguished on the spiritual stage, after it had shone so brilliantly on the worldly one? Yet he could not absolutely refuse madame de Maintenon; for, with all his piety, he was still a courtier. Boileau, whose advice he asked, decided positively for the negative.

that

Reflect,' said the latter, you have a great reputation at stake, the preservation of which is more difficult than the attainment.' After long considering for and

against,

against, Racine at last came to a determination; the story of Esther presented itself, and all doubts fortunately vanished. It was not long before he carried to madame de Maintenon not only the plan of his piece, (for he was accustomed to sketch scene by scene in prose,) but the first act completely finished. She was enraptured with it, and, in spite of her great modesty, she could not heip discovering in the character of Esther, and in some other trifling circumstances, very flattering compliments to herself. Even Vashti and Haman were striking portraits. As this bible piece was perfectly proper for the ladies of St. Cyr, so was the first representation got up with zeal; but only the principal courtiers, who accompanied Louis the XIVth to the chace, were allowed to be present. At supper the king could talk of nothing but Esther. Monseigneur, Monsieur, and all the princes would see it; the applause was uncommon, Esther's prayer was ir resistible; all appeared great, excellently treated, worked up with dignity; even the great Condé wept. The third representation was dedicated to the pious, viz. to the Pere de la Chaise, some bishops, twelve or sixteen jesuits, together with madame de Miriamon, and her most elevated nuns. Today,' (said madame de Maintenon,) it shall only be played to the saints.' The saints applauded as highly as the children of the world, and heartily wished, that all tragedies resembled Esther.--In the end the king allowed all his courtiers to take a share in it; as was natural, they were in raptures. Madame de Maintenon was tormented on all sides for tickets of admission; there were more than two thousand applicants, and only two hundred

places. The king generally made a list, as he was on the road to Marli. For he went in first, with the list in one hand, and an uplifted Spanish cane in the other; thus he himself guarded the entrance, until the chosen number were assem bled.-It was also a very comic circumstance, that the young lovely actresses prayed their Veni Crea'or behind the curtain, to interest the Holy Ghost in their several parts. As the king and queen of England now expressed a wish to see Esther, it was got up with redoubled splendour, the actresses were decorated with diamonds, the orchestra consisted of the first musicians belonging to the king. Madame de Montespan and Louvois knew themselves under the name of Vashti and Haman, bit their lips and clapped. Their English majesties were delighted, that the minister, who had promoted their removal from the throne, should be represented as dazzled and deceived by hell. Louis the XIVth, who, perhaps, had piety to thank for his great reputation, who at the same time was a little tyrannical, willingly knew himself in the pride of a Persian monarch, in his love for justice, as in the tenderness of his Esther. In short, every body was satisfied. Racine wished to dedicate his work to madame de Maintenon; but she entreated him not once to mention her name in the preface. Two-and-thirty years afterwards, the players, for the first time, brought Esther on the public stage, and it had only one representation; probably because only the pure and innocent actresses of St. Cyr, with their angel voices, knew how to give a certain high interest to a play, which, as Voltaire says, represents an improbable, not an attractive incident: a foolish

king, who lived six months with his wife without knowing who she was, who, without the least pretence, ordered a whole nation to be slaughtered, and afterwards, even as mad

ly hung up his favourite.-The cold reception that Esther again experienced in Paris in our days, appears to confirm the judgement of Voltaire."

and from the intermixture of things arise new things; as once the Romans, after a dreadful fire, out of many melted metals drew the Corinthian bronze, which was valued as highly as gold. The same can almost be said of the good ton of the clubs, resources, copinos, and by what other names the assembling places are called where men form the different classes, meet together; where there arises a kind of friction of every sort of mind and breeding, which also produces a new mind and breeding, a kind of middle ton, that passes better to the whole, than the ton of every single coterie would have done, before it was modified in this way.

"This property is what has been agreed to be called good ton, in whatever town it may reign, may it be Paris, London, or Querfurt; the name is nothing to the purpose; the thing remains the same for the whole physical and moral world. It cannot absolutely be said, that the best possible ton is the ton of France, (at least not now,) or Italy, England, Germany, &c. &c. but that it is the most agreeable to each of these countries. Even as little can magistrates or soldiers, priests or men of letters, artists or men of elegant minds pretend to it; but the ton that the nearest accords with

is, as it were, the store-house of a free disinterested commerce, in which every well-educated man takes a share, and where people only yield to each other, to be in the highest degree themselves distinguished. To be introduced into company no offence should be given to another; to please, it requires something more, still more to be distinguished; because in that case ambition raises emulation, and the emulation is more difficult to be gained over, than to be conquered.

"But a preliminary article in all society is, that it must be under stood. Every coterie has, as before said, its own language, that without its limits is not understood.

All

"This consequently must be avoided; for if a man will not talk so that all may understand him, it is an open usurpation on the equality before mentioned, and the exchange of words and thoughts has no long. er liberty nor pleasantness. words of art, science, scholastic or juridical expressions, are banished from good company; they must be translated or paraphrased, otherwise in the end conversation would be a kind of pick-nick, to which every one brought a dish, but so placed it, that none of the fellowguests could come at it. Much better would it be to eat alone.