## 1. Context



Hume's aesthetic theory received limited attention until the
second half of the Twentieth Century, when interest in the full range
of Hume's thought was enlivened by the gradual recognition of
his importance among philosophers writing in English. Unfortunately,
many discussions of Hume's aesthetics concentrate on a single
late essay, "Of the Standard of Taste" (1757). This
emphasis misrepresents the degree to which Hume's aesthetic
theory is integrated into his philosophical system. This
misrepresentation has been countered by recent monographs on
Hume's general aesthetic theory by Dabney Townsend (2001) and
Timothy Costelloe (2007).



The "Advertisement" to his first publication, *A
Treatise of Human Nature*, promises that if the first two volumes
find suitable "approbation," the project will conclude
with "the examination of morals, politics, and criticism; which
will compleat this Treatise of human nature" (T, Adv, xii).
Sadly, the *Treatise* was not a success and Hume limited the
third and final volume to the topic "Of Morals." He never
produced his systematic treatment of politics and criticism and so
never completed his new "science" of human nature. Those
topics would be handled piecemeal in several collections of short
essays, the "polite" writing that brought him the
publishing success he desired.



Hume's concept of criticism is not interchangeable with either
aesthetics or philosophy of art. These now-familiar labels were not
available to Hume when he published his *Treatise* in 1739 and
1740. The Abbe Charles Batteux did not defend the idea of
grouping the arts together in an investigation of fine art until 1746.
However, Hume knew and drew from the French tradition leading to
Batteux's work. Under this general influence, his essays
occasionally refer to the "the finer arts" of painting,
music, sculpture, and poetry (CL, 158; SOT 278; OT, 264; C, 289).
There is no direct evidence that Hume read Batteux, but they agree in
identifying the fine arts as mimetic "arts of luxury" that
exist primarily for the sake of our enjoyment (C, 289). Although
contemporaries such as Alexander Gerard and Lord Kames (Henry Home)
both use the phrase "fine art," Hume's books and
letters never use that expression. Hume was probably not aware of
Alexander Baumgarten's *Reflections on Poetry* of 1735,
the work that introduced the term "aesthetics." The thesis
that aesthetic judgments are completely distinct from moral judgments
would not receive its modern formulation until Immanuel Kant's
*Critique of Judgment* (1790), after Hume's death in
1776. So Hume's reflections on aesthetics occupy a pivotal niche
between the appearance of fine art theory and Kant's defense of
an independent aesthetic judgment in the *Critique of Judgment*
- a defense clearly influenced by Kant's reading of
Hume's essays and *An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of
Morals*.



Hume's theory is most firmly rooted in the work of Joseph
Addison, Francis Hutcheson, and, to a lesser extent, Shaftesbury
(Anthony Ashley Cooper). The specific connections are detailed in Kivy
(2003), Townsend (2001), and Costelloe (2007). From the older
tradition, elegantly expounded by Addison in numerous essays written
between 1709 and 1715, Hume retains the idea that the values within
the scope of criticism are essentially pleasures of the human
imagination. Although Hume acknowledges cases where beauty seems a
merely sensory pleasure, he emphasizes beauty's status as a
cognitive pleasure. Taking beauty as his paradigm case of such a
value, Hume combines Addison's theory of taste as an operation
of imagination with Hutcheson's proposal that emotions are the
foundation of moral judgment. Elaborating on the "inner
sense" theory, Hume endorses Hutcheson's stance on the
general question of the nature of both moral and aesthetic value.
Value judgments are expressions of taste rather than reasoned
analysis. Values cannot be addressed except in the context of a
general theory about our shared human nature. Although recognition of
aesthetic and moral beauty is a manifestation of taste (and perhaps
they cannot ultimately be distinguished from one another), taste must
not be dismissed as subjective, idiosyncratic preference.



Granted, Hume has many other influences. He drew on classical sources,
including Cicero. His celebrated essay on taste draws heavily on
French thought, particularly on that of the Abbe Jean-Baptiste
Dubos(1748). (See
 Section 4
 below.) So does the essay on tragedy. (See
 Section 5
 below.) Detailed accounts of Hume's debt to Dubos are provided
in Jones (2009) and Townsend (2011, pp. 76-85).



Within this framework of concerns and influences, Hume is neither
interested in working out a theory of art (in contributing to
philosophy of art) nor in analyzing aesthetic properties (in doing
aesthetics). Although he is aware of debates about the nature of the
sublime and recognizes it as a category of artistic achievement (SOT,
281), he offers no theory of the sublime. An attempt to pull together
a Humean account is made by Hipple (1967, pp. 42-44). Due to the
seamless connection Hume posits between moral and aesthetic value,
much of his technical discussion of aesthetics appears only as an
illustration of his moral theory. Other details of Hume's
aesthetics emerge in contexts where he expounds his theory of
imaginative association (EHUa, 102-7), elaborates on the value
of delicacy of taste (DOT), and denies that his appeal to sentiment
leads to skepticism about value distinctions (S, 217-19).
Consequently, a reading that emphasizes "Of the Standard of
Taste" at the expense of the *Treatise* and
*Enquiries* shortchanges the theory's complexity.



Thus, the two essays that appear to summarize Hume's aesthetics
are best understood as applications of a larger philosophical account
of human nature, including our social nature. The construction of each
essay suggests a purpose of working out details of the larger project
in the face of an obvious counterexample. Those counterexamples are
the relativity of taste (SOT) and the pleasure we take in tragic
fiction (OT). Yet their limited purpose does not detract from their
continuing importance. They provide insight into perennial problems
and so serve as the historical foundation for subsequent attempts to
defend a subjectivist aesthetic theory.



Unfortunately, numerous interpretative challenges arise from
Hume's scattered presentation, his range of references, and his
eighteenth-century assumptions about art. Like many of his
contemporaries, Hume regards "poetry and the polite
authors" as the most important arts (PW 3, 19). Timothy
Costelloe (2018, chap. 4) consequently constructs an excellent survey
of Humean aesthetics by canvassing the full range of Hume's
comments on poets and poetry. However, poetry differs from the more
practical arts in being designed for the primary purpose of giving
pleasure (SOT, 277). When using the terms "art" and
"artist," Hume sometimes means any human artifice and any
skilled designer (in one context, an "artist" is someone
who repairs a clock (EHU, 87)). In contexts where he can only be taken
to be interested in the narrower category of fine art, Hume variously
mentions painting, statuary, architecture, dance, poetry, and music.
But he places poetry among the arts of eloquent public discourse.
Eloquence includes sermons, essays, argumentative discourse, and other
categories that we today would regard as too overtly didactic to be
fine art (E).



Hume assumes that every product of human labor has some definite
purpose, with only a limited subset of art being produced for the sake
of pleasure alone. (He is skeptical about appeals to teleological or
final causes in nature.) Houses will be designed and built apart from
any need to satisfy our taste for beauty, and representational art
will be produced in order to provide visual information. The
interesting questions are why houses and visual representations also
appeal to taste, and what this appeal tells us about the relative
contributions of human nature and education as conditions for
appropriate responses to our surroundings.



So what label best summarizes Hume's theory of moral and
aesthetic taste? It may be easier to specify which labels do not fit
his theory than to attach one to it. He rejects normative realism.
(There is considerable controversy on the question of whether Hume is
a realist regarding matters of fact. Putting that issue to one side,
he clearly denies that normative judgments have the same degree of
objectivity that holds for matters of fact.) Hume is equally at pains
to deny that reason provides an adequate foundation for judgments of
taste. Is he therefore a subjectivist? Not if subjectivism implies
that such judgments are arbitrary. He is not a relativist, for the
main point of the essay on taste is that some judgments of taste are
superior to others. Nor, in his own terms, is he a skeptic regarding
aesthetic properties and value judgments. Despite his philosophical
view that beauty is not a real property of things, Hume never
questions the meaningfulness of general practice of making aesthetic
judgments. Because the verdicts of taste are sentiments, devoid of
truth-value, there is no opportunity for the conflicts and failures of
reason that give rise to philosophical skepticism.



Hume is an inner sense theorist who treats aesthetic pleasure as an
instinctive and natural human response. Successful art exploits our
natural sentiments by employing appropriate composition and design.
Only empirical inquiry can establish reliable ways to elicit the
approval of taste.


## 2. Hume's Terminology



Hume regards the natural capacity of taste as fundamental to the human
ability to make moral and aesthetic judgments. Like his predecessors,
Hume sees an analogy between an "inner sense" for beauty
and the sense of taste for food and drink. Natural, general laws guide
both. Both permit of education and refinement and thus better and
worse responses. Both produce sentiments or feelings of approval and
disapproval. But only the "mental" taste, the exercise of
which is involved in moral and aesthetic judgment, admits of
refinement through "the interposition" of ideas (T, 275).




Hume's eighteenth-century terminology includes a pair of terms
no longer in general use. In his basic nomenclature, "taste in
morals, eloquence, or beauty" assigns either
"approbation" or "disapprobation" (or some
combination of both) to objects of taste (T, 547n). Approbation is
"a peculiar delight" (T, 298) and a
"*particular* kind of pleasure" (T, 472). It feels
different from other pleasures. He variously characterizes approbation
as a feeling of approval, liking, or affection. A beautiful object or
action strikes us as amiable, agreeable, and desirable. Yet moral and
aesthetic responses are not identical, for "the satisfaction is
different, [which] keeps our sentiments concerning them from being
confounded" (T, 472). Hume describes the feeling of
disapprobation as one of disapproving, disliking, and contempt. An
ugly object or vicious action feels odious, disagreeable, and
undesirable.



In the eighteenth-century context of moral theory,
"sentiment" is a generic label for emotions. (Hume's
theory is sometimes identified as "sentimentalism," but
that term has unfortunate modern connotations--though see the
entry on
 moral sentimentalism.)
 In Hume's technical vocabulary, all emotions are impressions,
not ideas. The sentiments associated with beauty and ugliness are
reflective impressions. They are not "impressions of the
senses." Instead, they are responses to sensory impressions (T,
276).



Beauty is a feeling of approbation, and an original, simple impression
of the mind. Impressions are contrasted with ideas, which he
alternatively calls "thoughts." Ideas are
"copies" of impressions, and seldom have the force or
clarity of the experiences they copy. For Hume, experiencing a
particular kind of approbation is a necessary condition for thinking
about the idea of beauty. An individual cannot construct the idea of
beauty out of other ideas, which is equivalent to saying that the idea
derives from the proper sentiment of approbation (T, 469). In the
complete absence of the operations of taste, thoughts about beauty
would not occur.



Taste is the capacity to respond with approbation and disapprobation.
But how does taste relate to Hume's various remarks about
"perceptions" and "discernments" of beauty, of
our "judging" a work, and of critics who "give
judgment" and who "give" or "pronounce"
a "verdict" or "recommendation" (SOT, passim)?
Hume seems to equate perception of beauty with the experience of the
sentiment. (This equation underlies the problem of whether all tastes
are equal). Does he distinguish between the critic's experience
of the sentiment and the judgment or verdict? If a verbal
pronouncement that an object is beautiful is nothing more than an
expression or report of the speaker's sentiment, then Hume faces
the difficulty that a critic's verdict is not really a
recommendation of the object. If your pronouncement that a piece of
music is beautiful means no more than that you have felt a certain
pleasure upon hearing it, then your verdict expresses your pleasure
without saying anything about the music's capacity to please
others. So although critics issue judgments of taste based on their
own sentiments, a judgment of taste must involve something more than a
pleasing or displeasing sentiment. 



Hume observes that there is a difference between expressing
one's own sentiments and making a moral distinction. When
someone speaks of another's behavior as "*vicious*
or *odious* or *depraved*, he then speaks another
language, and expresses sentiments, in which he expects all his
audience to concur with him" (EPM, 272). Moral and aesthetic
judgment requires "*steady* and *general* points
of view" (T, 581-82; see also SOT, 276), common to others
(EPM, 272). Hume's various descriptions of this point of view
invite conflicting interpretations. However, it clearly requires the
critic to reflect upon the relationship between the sentiment and its
object.



Whether we call them "aesthetic judgments" or
"judgments of taste," aesthetic verdicts are unlike
ordinary judgments about matters of fact. Matters of fact are relevant
states of affairs, which render complex ideas either true or false.
The same cannot be said about verdicts arising from the operations of
taste. Sentiment, and sentiment alone, determines that a particular
object is or is not beautiful.



> 
> Truth is disputable; not taste: what exists in the nature of things is
> the standard of our judgement; what each man feels within himself is
> the standard of sentiment. Propositions in geometry may be proved,
> systems in physics may be controverted; but the harmony of verse, the
> tenderness of passion, the brilliancy of wit, must give immediate
> pleasure (EPM, 171).
> 



We do not infer that a sunset is beautiful and so deserving of
approbation. We see the sunset, and the visual impressions please us.
If we have the proper point of view, we are justified in saying that
the sunset is beautiful. This verdict is more than a report or
expression of the sentiment, yet the sentiment is an irreplaceable
element of the judgment. A parallel claim is made of moral
discrimination. "Pleasure and pain," he insists, are the
"essence" of beauty and deformity (T, 299). But how does a
literary work "give immediate pleasure"?



One of Hume's most puzzling claims is that taste is an
"immediate" response. In his extended treatment of the
passions and emotions in the *Treatise*, Hume says that
"immediate" feelings are ones that do not involve the
"interposition" of ideas (T, 275). Some pleasures and
pains are "immediate" in the sense that they are
impressions that immediately accompany other impressions (e.g., the
experience of a very hot flame is accompanied by an experience of
pain). How does a literary work "give immediate pleasure"?
Taken literally, the *Treatise* appears to commit Hume to the
view that literary works are beautiful independent of the
audience's ability to assign ideas or meanings to the words. As
noted by James Grant (2014, p. 368), the *Treatise* sometimes
posits a distinction between beauty, which is the quality of the
object that acts upon us, and the pleasure it arouses. But these
proposals are not repeated in Hume's later writings and a
commitment to observer-independent beauty is certainly not
Hume's mature position. His official theory is that there is
"mental, as well as bodily taste" (SOT, 274), and both
moral and aesthetic discrimination depend on mental taste. The
requisite sentiments are spontaneous products of the mind, but they
are not uninformed responses.



Mental taste normally requires some intervening thought process. So
the pleasures and pains of aesthetic judgment are not immediate in
being direct responses to other impressions.



> 
> Some species of beauty, especially the natural kinds, on their first
> appearance, command our affection and approbation; and where they fail
> of this effect, it is impossible for any reasoning to redress their
> influence, or adapt them better to our taste and sentiment. But in
> many orders of beauty, particularly those of the finer arts, it is
> requisite to employ much reasoning, in order to feel the proper
> sentiment; and a false relish may frequently be corrected by argument
> and reflection. There are just grounds to conclude, that moral beauty
> partakes much of this latter species, and demands the assistance of
> our intellectual faculties, in order to give it a suitable influence
> on the human mind (EPM, 173).
> 



Mental taste arises in response to ideas that arise in response to
impressions (e.g., viewing a photograph occasions thoughts about the
place pictured, leading to thoughts about experiences one had or might
have there, and the thoughts arising in this imaginative process are
pleasurable or painful). Hume regards this "immediacy" of
taste as entirely compatible with the influence of intellectual and
imaginative faculties.



Taste is immediate and spontaneous, yet the application of "good
sense" and "reason" improves it (SOT, 277). Taste is
not improved by reasoning from a priori normative principles. Moral
and aesthetic discriminations "are not conclusions of
reason" (T, 457). Neither results from a mere "comparing
of ideas" (T, 463). However, taste can be influenced by
consultation of "general rules of art" or
"rules" that "are founded only on experience and
observation" (SOT, 270). For different views on the content of
these rules or principles, see Hester (1979), Dickie (1996, pp.
126-131), Shelley (2002), Dickie (2003), and Shelley (2004).
Mental taste involves reason in the sense of "sound
understanding," which ultimately depends on imaginative
associations of ideas. So taste involves imaginative pleasure, as
Addison proposed. This doctrine of imaginative pleasure has no special
connection with creativity or with the capacity to produce art.



To summarize Hume on taste, aesthetic and moral response is
"immediate" in the sense that the feeling occurs
spontaneously in anyone who makes customary imaginative associations.
Hume wants to emphasize that a critic does not infer the presence of
beauty. Yet he also acknowledges the relevance of sound understanding
to taste. This combination of doctrines has implications for the
practice of justifying judgments of taste, and becomes the focus of
the essay "Of the Standard of Taste." Knowing that a
sonnet has the same form as a second, beautiful sonnet will not offer
any reason to think that they are equally fine poems. Only a reading
of the sonnet can support claims about its beauty. However,
Hume's theory should be interpreted with caution, against the
backdrop of his other claims about moral and aesthetic distinctions.
The general, natural principles of taste are supplemented by learned
rules, so that knowledge of other sonnets contributes to a more
accurate or refined evaluation of the merits and flaws of a particular
sonnet. His subjectivism does not lead to relativism. Not every
sentiment is equally good.


## 3. Beauty and Taste in Hume's Moral Theory


### 3.1 Subjectivism



Hume proposes that feeling, not thought, informs us that an object is
beautiful or ugly, or that an action exhibits virtue or vice:
"The very *feeling* constitutes our praise or
admiration" (T, 471). The feeling or sentiment is itself an
aesthetic or moral discrimination. It is prior to, and the basis of,
any subsequent expression of praise or admiration. The sentiment
*is* the beauty of the object and it *is* the virtue of
desirable human action. Sentiment is the sole source of values
governing human activity. Taste is a "productive faculty, and
gilding or staining all natural objects with the colours, borrowed
from internal sentiment, raises, in a manner, a new creation."
That new creation is "beauty and deformity, virtue and
vice" (EPM, 294). However, the sentiment is calm rather than
violent, so an unphilosophical perspective treats it as a property
"of the object" (S, 218). 



This moral and aesthetic subjectivism attracts Hume for the same
reason that it attracts Hutcheson. The appeal to sentiment offers a
middle position between the two prevailing theories within English
letters, Hobbesian egoism and ethical rationalism. Hutcheson holds
that virtue and beauty are not qualities of the people and things to
which they are attributed. We may speak as if objects and people have
moral and aesthetic properties, but the relevant property is merely an
"idea raised in us." Hume alters Hutcheson's theory
by imposing his own philosophical vocabulary, making beauty an
impression rather than an idea. But they agree that to describe a
person as virtuous or an object as beautiful is to make a claim about
their tendency to cause a certain response. Is it imprudent and
"too strong," Hume asks Hutcheson, to summarize the thesis
in the following terms (HL, I, 39-40)? "[W]hen you
pronounce any action or character to be vicious, you mean nothing, but
that from the constitution of your nature you have a feeling or
sentiment of blame from the contemplation of it. Vice and virtue,
therefore, may be compared to sounds, colours, heat and cold, which,
according to modern philosophy, are not qualities in objects, but
perceptions in the mind" (T, 469). Emphasizing Hume's debt
to Hutcheson, Kivy (2003, pp. 307-310), argues that Hume
understands beauty very much on the model of colors. Although they are
secondary qualities and so do not directly reveal the properties of
the occasioning object, some color perception is "true and
real" (SOT, 272), and so it is for Hume likewise with beauty.
However, virtue and beauty are not strictly analogous to secondary
qualities, such as heat and cold, because a critic's claim that
a work is beautiful involves an element of endorsement that does not
arise in the observation that ice is cold. The case against reading
Humean beauty on the model of ideas of secondary qualities is provided
by Shiner (1996) and Taylor (2011).



Hume defends the centrality of sentiment with the following reasoning.
Recognitions of virtue and beauty require particular sentiments in
human observers. If the discriminations of taste took place without
these sentiments, we would lack any motivation to do what we regard as
moral. Moral and aesthetic judgments have practical consequences that
mere reason lacks. So taste differs from the assent that characterizes
understanding or reason (T, 458; EPM, 172; S, 219). Although taste
responds to real qualities of objects, we cannot replace the exercise
of taste with the assent of reason. In many cases, beauty and
gracefulness (both aesthetic and moral) are inexplicable; they resist
our efforts at explication, and we must trust the "sure
testimony of taste and sentiment" (EPM, 267).



Epistemically, taste is nonetheless a fallible indicator of beauty and
deformity. The underlying sentiments never "refer" to
anything in their cause (SOT, 268). Feelings do not represent any
aspect of their occasioning objects, and they are easily attached to
objects other than their cause (T, 280). (As with any causal
relationship, such as the causal link between smoke and fire, an
isolated effect does not refer back to its cause, nor does it provide
us with information about the nature of the object or event that
causes it. If we experience smoke but have never experienced fire, the
smoke will tell us nothing about the nature of fire.) As effects of
our interaction with the world, sentiments cannot reliably inform us
about the nature of their causes. It will not always be clear, prior
to careful attention and reflection, which features of a work of art
are responsible for our sentiments of approbation and disapprobation.
On Hume's analysis, the chain running from cause to effect turns
out to be extremely complex, for the relationship is indirect and
"the human body is a mighty complicated machine" with many
"secret powers" (EHU, 87; see also SOT, 270). Knowing
this, good critics pronounce their verdicts only after they clarify
how their own sentiments relate to the object that is being evaluated
(SOT, 270-71).



However, some of Hume's critics see a fundamental contradiction
between his subjectivism and his distinction between better and worse
critics or the possession of better and worse taste. The criticism is
most often formulated against Hume's parallel discussion of
ethical evaluation. A particularly forceful statement of the objection
is provided by Philippa Foot (1966). Hume was acutely aware of the
general problem and it is the starting point of the essay "Of
the Standard of Taste." (See
 Section 4
 below.)


### 3.2 The Dispositional Analysis



Our sentiments obey general principles governing our species. Yet we
must be able to make judgments of taste immediately, without having to
be aware of the laws governing them. 



Hume's acknowledgment of regular, predictable causes of the
moral and aesthetic sentiment is sometimes taken as an indication that
Hume is not a genuine subjectivist. On this reading, he equates beauty
and virtue with dispositional properties of external objects.
Attributions of moral and aesthetic properties to objects indicate a
speaker's acknowledgment of the object's tendency to
produce the sentiment. There are passages that suggest such a reading:
"beauty is such an order and constitution of parts, as ...
is fitted to give a pleasure and satisfaction to the soul" (T,
299; see SOT, 273). The dispositional analysis of beauty is attributed
to Hume by Savile (1982, p. 161), Mothersill (1984, pp.
205-206), and Levinson (2002). Reasons to think it is mistaken
are provided by Baxter (1990). The dispositional analysis should not
be confused with the position that features of objects cause the
requisite sentiment. The case for attributing a causal theory of taste
to Hume is provided by Shiner (1996)



Despite such passages, it is questionable whether Hume really offers a
dispositional analysis. A dispositional analysis tells us which
properties would exist if certain conditions were satisfied. A
simplified dispositional analysis treats "Cork is buoyant"
as equivalent in meaning to "If a piece of cork is placed in
water, it floats." A simplified dispositional analysis of beauty
treats "This object is beautiful" as equivalent in meaning
to "If anyone perceives this object under ideal conditions, a
sentiment of approbation accompanies the perception."  On
this account, beauty is distinct from the sentiment of approbation.
The sentiment is incorporated into the analysis, but the sentiment is
not itself a dispositional property.



Suppose that Hume regards beauty as a dispositional property. Like the
dispositional terms "buoyant" and "brittle,"
"beauty" could be predicated of objects, generating
judgments that are true or false for different objects. Statements
attributing dispositional properties to objects are true even if the
appropriate conditions are never satisfied (e.g., "This vase is
brittle" can be true despite the fact that the vase never gets
broken). Yet Hume clearly denies that judgments of taste are
truth-valued, and he denies that it makes sense to make inferences
about an object's beauty in advance of the requisite sentiment
(S, 219).



Hume famously argues that, in order to clarify any idea, "we
need but enquire, *from what impression is that supposed idea
derived*" (EHU, 22). If beauty is a dispositional property,
then one arrives at the idea of beauty by associating particular
causes with particular effects under specific conditions. In
Hume's terminology, a dispositional idea of beauty would be the
idea of a complex relation of cause and effect. It would be a causal
principle, and we could not employ the idea prior to formulating such
a principle. Yet, once again, Hume denies an implication of the
dispositional analysis. The sentiment of approbation is our only
source for our idea of beauty, and there are cases where we recognize
beauty in advance of any reasoning about the beautiful object (EPM,
173).



Furthermore, if Hume regards beauty as a dispositional property, he
has a model close at hand in Hutcheson's analysis. But Hume
avoids offering any such account. Aside from a willingness to identify
several ways that works of art must fail to please refined taste, Hume
does very little to advance the traditional and familiar project of
criticism, the stipulation of rules for successful art. Granted, he
endorses the existence of such rules (SOT, 269-273) and
provisionally suggests (SOT, 273) that they serve as our standard of
taste, a point explored by Brown (1938), Jones (1976, 2009), Shelley
(1994), and Costelloe (2007, pp. 3-17). However, he does not
provide an organized or dedicated presentation of the properties of
objects that regularly cause the sentiment of approbation. Costelloe
(2018, pp. 161-170) has nonetheless extracted three such
principles from Hume's discussions of poetry. First, artistic
depictions must be grounded in what is familiar or, at the very least,
plausible. Second, artworks must be constrained by coherence in their
imaginative associations. Third, simplicity is preferable to
"excessive ornamentation and artifice" (Costelloe 2018,
167). At the same time, Hume recognizes that any established
correlation between sentiment and objective properties might be
defeated by the next example that we encounter (SOT, 270). Despite the
existence of "general principles of approbation or blame,"
taste depends on too many variables ("incidents and
situations") to offer a detailed dispositional analysis (SOT,
271).



Passages endorsing a dispositional account might be slips of the pen.
Or, more likely, Hume does not believe that it is possible to define
evaluative terms. They are indefinable, primitive terms. Hume
emphasizes that "certain qualities in objects" are the
occasions for our sentiments of approbation and disapprobation (SOT,
273). Formal design is one such quality (SOT 271; T, 299, 364). The
existence of occasioning qualities provides theoretical support for
the possibility of a convergence of refined taste. So our primitive
evaluative terms are not arbitrarily applied. Nonetheless, it is
irresponsible to endorse any particular thing or action in advance of
the verdict of unprejudiced taste.


### 3.3 Imagination and Point of View



Informed understanding makes a vital contribution to most aesthetic
and moral judgment (EPM, 173; SOT, 277). For Hume, taste is improved
by practice in making "comparisons" among objects (SOT,
275) and by the employment of "good sense" (SOT, 277).




Hume blurs traditional distinctions between thinking and imagining.
Thoughts would not extend beyond our actual experiences were it not
for the imaginative associations established by the force of
repetition or "custom" (T, 170; EHU, 43). Learned
associations encourage us to rearrange our ideas in intelligible
patterns, permitting us to create ideas of things never actually
experienced (e.g., fictitious creatures or distant places).
Imagination also creates chains of associated ideas, encouraging
thoughts to move rapidly from one idea to another.



Good taste therefore presupposes an active imagination. Suppose one
wakes in the morning and smells the distinctive aroma of coffee, and
the experience is pleasurable. This appreciation depends on a learned,
imaginative association: the smell brings to mind its cause, the
brewing coffee, and its purpose, the consumption of the coffee. The
agreeable sentiment is a response to this complex association of
impressions and ideas, not to the smell alone. Critical evaluation is
therefore highly contextual: "The passion, in pronouncing its
verdict, considers not the object simply, as it is in itself, but
surveys it with all the circumstances, which attend it" (S,
224).



It is important to recognize that Humean imagination is not a free and
unrestrained activity. It is constrained by a relatively small set of
permanent principles of imaginative association (T, 10, 225; EHU, 24).
Although poets may "profess to follow implicitly the suggestions
of their fancy" (T, 225), their poetry has little chance of
pleasing others if their "fancy" or imagination employs
irregular associations. The universal principles of imaginative
association allow artists to predict how their representational and
narrative designs will move audiences. With artworks, the intentions
of the artist must be considered, a point emphasized by Jones (1976,
pp. 55-56), and Jones (2009).



Hume recognizes a very small class of cases for which imaginative
association is not needed to recognize beauty. In these cases, initial
impressions of the mere "form" of a material object
generate approbation (T, 364). Such cases are more typical of natural
beauty than art (EPM, 173). So imagination is not always necessary for
discovering beauty. Pleasing form is sometimes sufficient. However,
"'tis seldom we rest there" (T, 363).



So Hume does not advocate a simple causal relationship between form
and sentiment. In most cases, our beliefs about the object alter our
sentiments. Forms are generally most pleasing when "the order
and construction of parts" (T, 299) suggests a corresponding
utility for humans or expresses agreeable emotions. These suggestions
need not be accurate in order to trigger approbation and
disapprobation. A particular object might appear balanced, graceful,
and beautiful despite our knowledge of its limited utility (T, 584).
Objects may displease taste despite their genuine utility.



> 
> A house may displease me by being ill-contrived for the convenience of
> the owner; and yet I may refuse to give a shilling towards the
> rebuilding of it. Sentiments must touch the heart, to make them
> controul our passions: But they need not extend beyond the
> imagination, to make them influence our taste. When a building seems
> clumsy and tottering to the eye, it is ugly and disagreeable; though
> we be fully assured of the solidity of the workmanship. 'Tis a
> kind of fear, which causes this sentiment of disapprobation; but the
> passion is not the same with that which we feel, when obliged to stand
> under a wall, that we really think tottering and insecure. The
> *seeming tendencies* of objects affect the mind: And the
> emotions they excite are of a like species with those, which proceed
> from the *real consequences* of objects, but their feeling is
> different. Nay, these emotions are so different in their feeling, that
> they may often be contrary, without destroying each other; as when the
> fortifications of a city belonging to an enemy are esteemed beautiful
> upon account of their strength, though we could wish that they were
> entirely destroyed. The imagination adheres to the *general*
> views of things, and distinguishes the feelings they produce, from
> those which arise from our particular and momentary situation (T,
> 586-87).
> 



Hume's views on the aesthetic relevance of form and utility are
explored by Carolyn Korsmeyer (1976), while utility is emphasized by
Taylor (2011). Given Hume's debt to Hutcheson, Korsmeyer notes
that it is tempting to read such passages as foreshadowing the
subsequent theory of aesthetic response as "disinterested"
pleasure. However, we should be careful here. Hume uses the term
"disinterest" as the contrary of "self-love"
(EPM, 296), but he does not use the term in relation to aesthetic
sentiment. Hume's "common," "universal,"
or "general view of things" is a simpler proposal. He
wants to remind us that we cannot expect the agreement of others if we
judge things from a limited and prejudiced perspective (EPM, 272).



Relations of form and function can operate at an extremely abstract
level: "A building, whose doors and windows were exact squares,
would hurt the eye by that very proportion: as ill adapted to the
figure of a human creature, for whose service the fabric was
intended" (EPM, 212-13). Those who respond with sentiment
are moved by "imaginary" and general consequences, not
simply utility for the person passing judgment (EPM, 217-18).
Furthermore, formal design itself can convey emotions which influence
aesthetic response: "There is no rule in painting or statuary
more indispensable than that of balancing the figures, and placing
them with the greatest exactness on their proper centre of gravity. A
figure, which is not justly balanced, is ugly; because it conveys the
disagreeable ideas of fall, harm, and pain" (EPM, 245).



Thus, Hume blocks the conclusion that all taste is equal by
distinguishing between two points of view that we can adopt toward any
person, object, or action. We can respond from the point of view of
our own self-interest. But this response is prejudiced and often
produces "a false relish" (EPM, 173). Or we can respond
from the general point of view, a reflective evaluation that is not
motivated by self-interest. The general point of view is influenced by
myriad beliefs about the object and its context. For example,
believing that something is rare greatly magnifies our pleasure (S,
224). Where self-interest might make me jealous of your new home and
will interfere with the sentiment of beauty, a reflective response
will allow me to appreciate its construction and design.



For Hume, normative conflicts can only be resolved by moving to a
properly informed general perspective, with "just conclusions
drawn, distant comparisons formed, complicated relations examined, and
general facts fixed and ascertained" (EPM, 173). The essay on
taste defends this position and outlines a theory of how critics can
place themselves in such a position:



> 
> when any work is addressed to the public, though I should have a
> friendship or enmity with the author, I must depart from this
> situation; and considering myself as a man in general, forget, if
> possible, my individual being and my peculiar circumstances. A person
> influenced by prejudice, complies not with this condition; but
> obstinately maintains his natural position, without placing himself in
> that point of view, which the performance supposes (SOT,
> 276-77).
> 



Hume also invokes the operation of a sympathetic sentiment. Since
sympathy plays an important role in his moral theory (T, 577; EPM,
225), he must include it in his aesthetic theory if he is to sustain
the close ties he posits between morals and aesthetics. The general
point of view takes notice of pleasure that the object is fitted to
bring to other people. The idea of their benefit generates sympathetic
pleasure, increasing the sentiment of approbation (T,
364-65).



However, Hume's claim that most judgments of beauty require some
element of sympathy (T, 363) becomes harder to maintain in cases of
fine art. It is not clear how the appreciation of a sonnet or melody
involves an idea of the value it has for others. Hume occasionally
talks as if artistic beauty is entirely a question of formal design.
And he seems to think that the utility and therefore value of some art
is the pleasure it affords (e.g., with poetry), as if he advocates an
early art-for-art's-sake position. This interpretation is an
obvious consequence of any interpretation that takes Hume to say that
an object's capacity to provide pleasure exhausts its aesthetic
value. (This reading is endorsed by Levinson (2002) and challenged by
Shelley (2011, 2013.) But the fact that a poem pleases someone else,
or even large numbers of people, does not encourage sympathetic
approbation for the poem.



A careful reading suggests that Hume neither separates the fine arts
from the other arts nor places sympathy at the center of aesthetic
response. From the start, he recognizes multiple reasons for
approbation. He hypothesizes a general but not universal connection
between artificial and natural forms and the appearance of utility (T,
195). He offers examples of basic design in painting (T, 364-65)
and of "unharmonious" literature (EPM, 224). Poetry has an
obvious formal element. Reading begins with impressions of dark shapes
arranged in lines on white pages. Readers silently associate the
printed text with aural ideas (the voice of a human speaker). Through
imaginative association, literary forms have expressive human
characters that elicit sympathetic pleasure and pain. Yet a reader who
is not engaged by the subject matter may still find value in the
"style and ingenuity of the composition" (T, 98). Because
Hume does not operate with assumptions about the uniqueness of fine
art, his theory cuts across the distinction between fine art and
rhetoric. Good design and eloquence are beautiful and desirable in all
artifacts and speech, not merely in fine art (E).



Where appropriate, the refined taste of a good critic will weigh the
relative contributions of all aspects of the object of taste. Formal
design is a contributing excellence and not the sole focus of
aesthetic discrimination. To arrive at a proper moral judgment,
"all the circumstances and relations must be previously known;
and the mind, from the contemplation of the whole, feels some new
impression of affection or disgust, esteem or contempt, approbation or
blame" (EPM, 290). Aesthetic discrimination works in the same
way (EPM, 291). In some situations, a single inharmonious element can
upset the beauty of the whole. Hume discusses such cases in "Of
the Standard of Taste." But then what of tragic literature, in
which sympathy produces ongoing unease? How can there be an impression
of approbation for a tragic play? Hume addresses this problem in
"Of Tragedy."



In the wake of reader-response criticism, Hume is frequently
challenged for not making enough allowances for the legitimate
differences that readers bring to the same piece of writing. No two
readers will respond with the same associations of ideas. So how can
Hume hypothesize a convergence of critical response? As a criticism of
Hume, this reply backfires. Hume concedes, "each mind perceives
a different beauty" (SOT, 268). But he recognizes an even more
radical problem. He admits that every stable object is really a
"fiction" posited by the operations of imagination and
sentiment. We always "bestow on the objects a greater regularity
than what is observed in our mere perceptions" (T, 197).
However, this philosophical grasp of the situation has no practical
effect in making anyone skeptical of the existence of houses, trees,
and books. It does not detract from the truth and falsity of what we
ordinarily say about them. Novels and plays and paintings are not
special cases. Admitting that they call for complex operations of
imagination does not differentiate them from other objects and should
not count against the possibility of critical judgment.



The crux of the problem is the difference between saying that
*Hamlet* is a play by William Shakespeare and saying that
*Hamlet* is a flawed play. The former claim expresses a matter
of fact; the latter expresses a normative judgment. Both judgements
stem from complex imaginative associations. The presence of
imaginative thought poses no special problem for the convergence of
evaluative discrimination. Hume's primary problem is to explain
how sentiment, as the essential source of value judgments, is subject
to principled dispute. Hume directly confronts this problem in
"Of the Standard of Taste."


## 4. Hume's Essay on Taste



Hume tells us that "Of the Standard of Taste" was written
in some haste and exists only to permit publication of other essays
(HL 2, 253). On the advice of Philip Stanhope, Hume removed "Of
the Immortality of the Soul" and "Of Suicide" from a
planned volume of new essays. His publisher informed him that the
resulting volume was too slim to print, bind, and sell. Hume then
brought the book to an acceptable length by penning a new essay,
"Of the Standard of Taste." Hume made nearly two hundred
editorial corrections over the subsequent twenty years and multiple
editions, the majority of which involve punctuation. He never altered
his argument. The essay is his last word on any topic in
"criticism." In addition to its importance as an
elaboration of Hume's views, Kant read the essay in translation
and it stands to Kant's mature aesthetic theory in much the way
that Hume's account of cause and effect stands to the
*Critique of Pure Reason*. Succinct analyses of their
contrasting positions are provided by Kulenkampff (1990), Savile
(1993, pp. 81-84), and Costelloe (2007, pp. 45-52).



Hume reminds us of the radical difference in kind between matters of
fact and the pronouncements of sentiment. Verdicts of sentiment lack a
truth-value. So it is surprising to find him endorsing the position
that many judgments of taste are "absurd and ridiculous"
(SOT, 269). Small differences affect taste, yet most people notice
only "the grosser and more palpable qualities of the
object" (SOT, 278). Only judges with a more refined taste will
respond to the "universal" appeal of superior art. Because
refinement demands considerable practice, such critics are few in
numbers.



It is tempting to read Hume's argument as a move away from his
signature subjectivism and toward some brand of normative realism. But
a careful reading of the text reveals that nothing is said to deny his
earlier support for subjectivism and there are no direct endorsements
of realism. The standard of taste should provide rules for
"confirming one sentiment, and condemning another" (SOT,
268). On this topic, see Brown (1938), Jones (1976, 1984), Shelley
(1994), and Costelloe (2007, pp. 3-17). However, the standard is
normative: it must explain why the sentiments of some critics are
better and worse. It does not follow that sentiments are true and
false in any absolute sense. These reflections lead Hume to postulate
five criteria for identifying good or "true" critics:
"Strong sense, united to delicate sentiment, improved by
practice, perfected by comparison, and cleared of all prejudice, can
alone entitle critics to this valuable character" (SOT,
278).



After several stabs at identifying the standard of taste, Hume
identifies it as the consensus or "joint verdict" of
"true critics" (SOT, 278-79). However, such critics
are "rare" (SOT, 280) and "few are qualified to give
judgment on any work of art" (SOT, 278). Consequently, it is not
the verdict of contemporary critics that constitutes the standard, but
rather the consensus of qualified judges over time and from multiple
cultures (SOT, 271; SOT, 280). The importance of the so-called
"test of time" is emphasized by Savile (1982) and Levinson
(2002). Either way, the proposal has been criticized on the grounds
that it posits a viciously circular analysis of aesthetic value:
aesthetically superior artworks are those endorsed by true critics,
but true critics are identified by their endorsement of the best art.
Where earlier commentators tend to see circularity, as with Brown
(1938) and Noxon (1961), more recent interpretations follow Kivy
(1967) and see a regress problem. Circularity is avoided by
identifying good critics who satisfy the five criteria, but this
generates new evaluative questions, for we must determine if their
responses are **sufficiently** delicate, grounded in the
**right** comparisons, and so on. For further discussion, see
Carroll (1984, pp. 189-191), Gracyk (1994, pp. 175-177),
and Baceski (2013). Based on these problems, some readings of the
essay reject the joint verdict of critics as Hume's standard.
For example, Costelloe (2007, pp. 2-14) argues that the
"general rules of art" are his actual standard.



Furthermore, there is disagreement on the question of whether Hume
holds that these true critics will be uniform in their verdicts.
Interpretation of Hume's position is complicated by the way that
he consistently affirms his motivating insight, borrowed from
Hutcheson, that sentiment is the essence of evaluation. Even the worst
critic says nothing false in foolishly saying that one work is better
than another, however misguided their sentiment. Passages where even
the best critics will diverge in their evaluations are emphasized by
Wieand (1984), Savile (1993, pp. 70-71), and Mothersill (1997).
Most notably, all critics have "innocent and unavoidable"
preferences (SOT, 281) and so they are better or worse at evaluating
different categories of art. Furthermore, these preferences change
during the lifetime of each critic. Consequently, the critical
judgments of some critics will diverge from those of other highly
qualified critics. But when critics' differences arise from
unavoidable and "blameless," preferences, there is no
interference of prejudice (SOT, 280). In short, the problem of finding
a standard of taste leads Hume to the problem of deciding which
disagreements are blameless, in order to distinguish them from
prejudices that disqualify a sentiment as a public recommendation.



This reading of Hume is challenged by an interpretation that
identifies the standard of taste with ideal critics. (The phrase does
not appear in Hume.) That is, instead of real people who can guide us
despite their unavoidable and intransigent biases, Hume's true
critics are ideal or perfect evaluators. The case that Hume's
critics are ideal critics who never disagree is made by Shelley (1994,
2003) and Costelloe (2007, pp. 17-18), and disputed in various
ways by Guyer (2005), Ross (2008), Galgut (2012), and
Dura-Vila (2015).



Hume highlights only two sources that contribute to
"blameless," differences of sentiment among qualified
critics: basic dispositions of character, and moral differences
arising from cultural differences (SOT, 280). Today, we are more
likely to notice a third source of disagreement, Hume's
recognition that different objects reflect distinct species of beauty.
Becoming a qualified judge of epic poetry does not contribute to being
a qualified judge of architecture. Addison is a better writer than
John Locke, but the comparison assumes that they are both writing
philosophy (EHU, 7). We can compare John Milton and John Ogilby, and
only a false critic would rank Ogilby above Milton (SOT, 269). But it
makes no sense to compare Milton and Addison, for Milton is a poet,
not a philosopher.



Furthermore, different cultures employ different customs when handling
the same artistic medium. "You will never convince a man, who is
not accustomed to Italian music, and has not an ear to follow its
intricacies, that a Scotch tune is not preferable" (S, 217). So
the good critic must overcome the challenge of cultural prejudice.
"A critic of a different age or nation, who should peruse this
discourse, must have all these circumstances in his eye, and must
place himself in the same situation as the audience, in order to form
a true judgment of the oration" (SOT, 276). Hume emphasizes the
great difficulties involved in overcoming the prejudices of
one's time and place (SOT, 281-82).



In the wake of a post-Kantian tradition that endorses art's
autonomy, many readers balk at Hume's strong endorsement of the
relevance moral judgment upon aesthetic evaluation (SOT,
283-84). Hume discusses the moral failing of several plays (SOT,
284) and of the Koran, considered as a literary
"performance" (SOT, 267). How can Hume reconcile this
position with his endorsement of Batteux's influential thesis,
in which the mechanical arts are distinguished from fine art by the
fact that the latter exists only to provide pleasure? ("Of
Tragedy" proceeds as if literature exists solely to provide the
pleasure of the experience.) But there is also a side of Hume that
refuses to distinguish between literature and other,
"practical" writing. Every work of art is evaluated
according to its distinctive purpose, with poetry alone singled out as
having the purpose of "pleasing" the imagination (SOT,
277). Ultimately, there is very little art that Hume might treat as
art-for-art's-sake.



There should be no great surprise that Hume insists that moral
judgments must sometimes enter into our aesthetic evaluations. (Good
introductions to Hume's view are provided by Mason (2001),
Dadlez (2002), and Winegar (2011).) Hume does not offer a sharp
distinction between moral and aesthetic taste. Evaluations that
subsequent aesthetic theories regard as a purely aesthetic are, for
Hume, concluding sentiments following numerous observations of
contributing strengths and weaknesses. When a work of art represents
human activity, then Hume's account of moral evaluation requires
that moral sentiment accompany apprehension of the action. The
fictional status of the work weakens our sympathetic response, but the
mere sequence of ideas will be sufficient to produce weaker versions
of the sentiments that one would have if one were faced with the
actual events. Given Hume's moral theory, there is no
possibility of suspending our moral response. Moral sentiments are
natural and immediate. At best, one can gain a better understanding of
the cultural context responsible for the work, so that one's
moral sentiments will not be negative through mere prejudice.
Hume's theory of sentiments requires that if we are going to
have an aesthetic evaluation of a play's plotting and language,
then we are also going to have a moral response to its display of
virtue and vice. Both must enter into our final sentiment of
approbation or disapprobation.



Although Hume emphasizes the variety of responses that different
groups and individuals have with the same works, some sources of
preference are "blameless" (SOT, 280) and
"innocent" (SOT, 281). Despite myriad differences, there
are two basic types of taste: vulgar taste and refined taste. Given
his thorough anti-realism about values, Hume cannot dismiss vulgar
taste as subjective and mistaken. Hume has a different strategy for
recommending refined taste as the more objective of the pair. Vulgar
taste is more idiosyncratic and capricious. Refined taste is more
properly rule-governed and stable. The two are equally subject to
"rules," but the person of refined taste is better
informed about the material.



Hume's contrast of vulgar and refined taste parallels his
general treatment of the doxastic positions of the vulgar and the wise
(T, 150; EHU, 110). Vulgar thinking is dominated by "the first
influence of general rules" upon the mind. Such rules are
instinctively but "rashly formed" to regulate the
imagination. If these rules are allowed to govern thought in the
absence of further reflection and refinement, the result is prejudice
instead of wisdom. (T, 146,150) The wise, in contrast, take care to
survey the broadest possible range of experience, allowing a
"second influence of general rules" to supplant the first.
In this manner, the "capricious and uncertain" ideas of
the vulgar give way to "the more general and authentic
operations of the understanding" and the superior judgments of
the wise (T, 150). As for the normative question of why the refined
judgments of the wise are preferable to the rash prejudices of the
vulgar, Hume is content that moral sense assigns approbation to the
"original instincts" underlying moral and aesthetic taste
(T, 619).



Having argued that we can overcome prejudice and make superior
assessments of ordinary matters of fact, Hume imports his contrast of
vulgarity and wisdom into his aesthetic theory. Sound understanding
makes inferences and arrives at a belief. Beliefs influence taste.
Although a judgment of taste terminates in a reflective passion,
rather than in a belief with a truth-value, taste employs operations
of the imagination subject to rules internalized by the judging
subject. Consequently, the contrast between first and second
influences of general rules applies as much to taste as to
"wisdom." Vulgar taste should betray the same degree of
capriciousness and prejudice as vulgar reasoning. Good taste, in
contrast, should be more stable, for it will display "a certain
point of view" appropriate to its object (SOT, 276). Refined
taste reflects what Hume elsewhere calls the "more
general" view. As with moral response, good taste meets with
approbation while a prejudiced taste "loses all credit and
authority" (SOT, 277). However, as a matter of interpretation,
Hume's references to a requisite "*delicacy* of
imagination" (SOT, 272) complicate and obscure the account, for
it is not clear what this delicacy is, nor how it contributes to a
more settled, general view. Recent explorations of this problem
include Townsend (2001, pp. 204-206), and Gracyk (2011).



So what are the rules of taste, over and above any rules or principles
involved in sound judgment about the object of taste? Surprisingly,
Hume never offers a clear case of one. At least two proposals about
such rules can be extracted from Hume's example of
Sancho's kin and the hogshead of wine, Hume's
"evidence" that there are general rules of taste (SOT,
272-73). On the one hand, it is tempting to read the rules as
strictly parallel with the empirical laws discussed in the
*Treatise* and first *Enquiry*. If so, they are causal
laws specifying which properties and combinations of properties cause
what kind and degree of pleasure. An example might be, "An
aftertaste of iron or leather reduces the pleasure taken in an
otherwise good wine." Unfortunately, such rules seem suitable
only for arriving at some probability about the likely effect of
drinking such wine. Applying such a rule may result in a belief about
the wine, but knowing the rule would not encourage the requisite
sentiment. Where we can find them, rules of this sort are useful for
separating true from pretend critics, if only in allowing us to point
out inconsistencies in critical response (SOT 273-74).



But general rules of taste have a second function. Even if rules
"had never been methodized" (SOT, 273), their existence
supports the view that practice and comparison improves taste (SOT,
275). Those with adequate experience of a particular art form will
perceive cases with greater accuracy. The existence of rules gives
reason to agree that practice heightens the subject's awareness
of disruptive impressions (the taste of iron) and missing impressions
(no fruity bouquet), resulting in a more reflective adjudication of
the whole experience. They will also direct the imagination to expect
various combinations of properties in light of one's recognition
that it is a thing of a specific kind. Properly amended to reflect
mental rather than bodily taste, the story of Sancho's kinsmen
underlies the whole argument of "The Standard of Taste."
Even if the rule has not been formalized, the wine taster will operate
as if reasoning from a rule (e.g., "since this is red wine, it
will have a fruity bouquet but no hint of leather or iron"). The
experienced reader or viewer will approach art with "the same
excellence of faculties which contributes to the improvement of
reason" (SOT, 278), discovering the true character of the object
within "the disorder, in which they are presented" (SOT,
273).


## 5. Hume's Essay on Tragedy



"Of Tragedy" grapples with a very different set of
problems than "Of the Standard of Taste." The motivating
issue in "Of Tragedy" is that of unpleasant emotion as a
positive feature of a work. Hume proposes to explain how "a
well-written tragedy" is pleasing when that pleasure appears to
depend on "sorrow, terror, anxiety," and other naturally
disagreeable emotions (OT, 258). Hume had visited this topic before,
in the *Treatise*, where his account of the pleasure of tragedy
invokes pity and sympathy (T, 369). "Of Tragedy" replaces
this earlier account with a complex proposal about the mental workings
of imagination in relation to our negative passions.



Originally published beside "Of the Standard of Taste" in
*Four Dissertations*, "Of Tragedy" is a peculiar
essay. Its direct engagement with Bernard de Fontenelle and the
Abbe Jean-Baptiste Dubos confirms Hume's acquaintance
with French aesthetics. Hume makes passing reference to catharsis in
his mention of spectator cries and sobs that "give vent to their
sorrow" (OT, 258), but there is no evidence of familiarity with
Aristotle's *Poetics*. On the whole, the essay says
surprisingly little about the nature of tragedy, and what it says is
combined with discussions of melodramas and historical writing. Its
real topic is the experience of conflicting emotions directed
simultaneously at a single object, a topic treated in the
*Treatise*. Because the pleasure offered by tragedy and
melodrama depends on and is proportionate with their capacity to
arouse grief, fear, and other unpleasant passions, Hume uses
literature and theater as an occasion to elaborate on his theory of
mixed emotions. As Hume formulates it, the problem is to explain the
nature of the relationship between our approbation, which is
pleasurable, and the presence of "sorrow, terror,
anxiety," and other naturally disagreeable emotions (OT, 258).
The solution, Hume claims, is that any emotion "which attends a
passion, is easily converted into it, though in their natures they be
originally different from, and even contrary to each other" (T,
419).



Although published side by side, "Of Tragedy" and
"Of the Standard of Taste" may offer conflicting
doctrines. In the essay on taste, the unchallenged appearance of vice
is treated as a flaw, and unpleasant emotion is a defect. But when
"Of Tragedy" identifies a flaw in Nicholas Rowe's
*The Ambitious Stepmother*, the play's defect is not the
endorsement of vice. Instead, its flaw is the staging of action that
is "too bloody and atrocious" (OT, 264). But why is
"shocking" spectacle a flaw that leads to general
disapprobation? Is it simply a question of the degree of shock? But
why should that prevent the audiences from "converting"
the shock into a "contrary" and pleasurable experience, as
Hume claims happens with terror and anxiety? The obstacle does not
seem to be moral in nature, of the sort explored in "Of the
Standard of Taste" where Hume discusses a work's failure
to direct proper disapprobation at vicious manners. The essay on taste
suggests that the same content would not be a flaw if proper
adjustments were made. But "Of Tragedy" does not call
attention to the moral dimension of Rowe's play. So "Of
Tragedy" is a discourse on an interesting puzzle about human
psychology, namely the fact that unpleasant elements can be either
strengths or ruinous defects. "Of Tragedy" says nothing
about moralism and art.



Hume's account of tragic pleasure has two components. First,
different features of the work must generate the viewer's
agreeable and disagreeable responses. Disagreeable aspects contribute
to our general approbation because those properties are balanced by
naturally agreeable properties. Second, a general psychological
principle explains how it is possible for competing emotions to
produce a complex, pleasing sentiment. Borrowed from the
*Treatise* (T, 419), that principle holds that when the same
object produces different passions, even those "of a contrary
nature," then the subordinate passion can be
"converted" into the predominant (OT, 262). "Of
Tragedy" combines these two ideas. Our natural delight in
"imitation" provides a strong and predominant passion. The
naturally disagreeable emotions aroused by the plot provide a
subordinate and contrary emotion, the "movement" of which
"fortifies" the predominant passion. Unless the negative
emotion becomes predominant, the overall effect of a well-written
tragedy will be an audience "pleased in proportion as they are
afflicted" (OT 258). The details of Hume's theory are
explored by Cohen (1962), Budd (1991), Neill (1992, 1999), and Dadlez
(2004, 2016).



Although Hume illustrates his general principle with numerous
examples, few of his contemporaries or modern interpreters endorse his
theory. A rare exception is Galgut (2001). Famously, the theory faces
multiple objections. It offers no working definition of tragedy and
its examples are not, for the most part, genuine tragedies, points
noted by Neill (1999). The details of Hume's examples raise
further issues. For example, Hume thinks it is obvious that
Rowe's play fails due to its gory and shocking spectacle, which
tips the balance in the wrong direction. But the obvious reply is that
many viewers enjoy the spectacle of violence. Hume basically says so:
"The English theatre abounds too much with such shocking
images" (OT, 265). How can Hume contend that the play is ruined
when so many viewers enjoy it? For there is no appeal except to
sentiment.



Perhaps Hume thinks that shocking spectacle satisfies vulgar taste but
not refined taste. "Of the Standard of Taste" posits
differences in audience members to account for different responses.
Hume's sketchy theory in "Of Tragedy" is compatible
with most people enjoying aesthetically uninteresting works, for
routine design readily delights most people (SOT, 276). But a refined
taste is equally sensitive to all facets of the work, including formal
design. Just as the wine tasted funny to Sancho's kinsmen (SOT,
272-73), a run-of-the-mill work "gives pain" to true
critics (SOT, 276). Only the best critics worry about the absence of
genius.



The rules of taste endorsed in "Of the Standard of Taste"
facilitate habituated expectations based on previous experiences with
similar art. Aesthetic pleasure frequently depends on
"custom" (T, 299) and on associations and expectations
developed by the life experiences of the intended audience. If
audience expectations are violated by excessive violence, and if there
is no compensating reward for its inclusion, then the work has been
improperly staged for its intended audience. But works that merely
satisfy expectations will please the less discerning critics. Hence
"shocking images" that are routine in English theater will
please the audience. The same gory spectacle and "dismal"
stories, insufficiently "softened" by genius and
eloquence, will displease a refined taste (OT, 265).



Unfortunately, this interpretation merely heightens the problem. What
is it that rewards vulgar taste? Why does violent spectacle attract
anyone to routine, predictable potboilers? Natural sympathy should
arouse uneasiness at the gory spectacle, yet the vulgar have no
compensating reward. Brilliant language is surely an attraction of
Shakespeare's *Othello*, but no such achievement is to be
found in most of the popular fiction that reliably delights its
audience. Hume even implies that the vulgar do not attend to
"eloquence" and similar formal achievement. However, the
mere fact of "imitation" seems insufficient to explain the
predominant pleasure in the face of this material. Is it the
spectacle's "exactness of imitation" (SOT, 276)? But
that would seem to be a compensating pleasure in all but the most
inept production, and would lead us to expect that vulgar audiences
would respond with equal pleasure to almost any inferior work that
meets their expectations. But this is simply not the case. "Of
Tragedy" does not meet the standards of argument and insight set
by Hume's other contributions to aesthetics.