tion of the work itself, produce approbation, the acquiefcence of the understanding, but not love, nor any paffion of that fpecies. When we examine the ftructure of a watch, when we come to know thoroughly the ufe of every part of it, fatisfied as we are with the fitnefs of the whole, we are far enough from perceiving any thing like beauty in the watch-work itfelf; but let us look on the cafe, the labour of fome curious artist in engraving, with little or no idea of ufe, we shall have a much livelier idea of beauty than we ever could have had from the watch itself, though the mafter-piece of Graham. In beauty, as I faid, the effect is previous to any knowledge of the use; but to judge of proportion, we must know the end for which any work is defigned. According to the end, the proportion varies. Thus there is one proportion of a tower, another of an houfe; one proportion of a gallery, another of an hall, another of a chamber. To judge of the propor tions of thefe, you must be firft acquainted with the purposes for which they were defigned. Good fense and experience acting together, find out what is fit to be done in every work of art. We are rational creatures, and in all our works we ought to regard their end and purpofe; the gratification of any paffion, how innocent foever, ought only to be of fecondary confideration. Herein is placed the real power of fitnefs and proportion; they Q 3

operate

operate on the understanding confidering them, which approves the work and acquiefces in it. The paffions, and the imagination which principally raises them, have here very little to do. When a room appears in its original nakedness, bare walls and a plain ceiling; let its proportion be ever fo excellent, it pleases very little; a cold approbation is the utmost we can reach; a much worse-proportioned room with elegant mouldings and fine feftoons, glaffes, and other merely ornamental furniture, will make the imagination revolt against the reason; it will please much more than the naked proportion of the first room, which the understanding has so much approved, as admirably fitted for its purposes. What I have here faid and before concerning proportion, is by no means to perfuade people abfurdly to neglect the idea of ufe in the works of art. It is only to fhew that these excellent things, beauty and proportion, are. not the fame; not that they should either of them be difregarded,

SECT. VIII.

THE RECAPITULATION,

ON the whole; if fuch parts in human bodies as are found proportioned, were likewise constantly found beautiful, as they certainly are not; or if they were fo fituated, as that a pleasure might

flow

flow from the comparison, which they feldom are; or if any affignable proportions were found, either. in plants or animals, which were always attended with beauty, which never was the cafe; or if, where parts were well adapted to their purposes, they were conftantly beautiful, and when no use appeared, there was no beauty, which is contrary to all experience; we might conclude, that beauty confifted in proportion or utility. But fince, in all refpects, the cafe is quite otherwife; we may, be fatisfied that beauty does not depend on these, let it owe its origin to what else it will.

SECT. IX.

PERFECTION NOT THE CAUSE OF BEAUTY.

THERE is another notion current, pretty closely allied to the former; that Perfection is the conftituent cause of beauty. This opinion has been made to extend much farther than to fenfible objects. But in these, fo far is perfection, confidered as fuch from being the cause of beauty; that this quality, where it is higheft, in the female fex, almost always carries with it an idea of weakness and imperfection. Women are very fenfible of this; for which reason, they learn to lifp, to totter in their walk, to counterfeit weakness, and even ficknefs. In all this they are guided by nature. Beauty in distress is much the most affecting beauty. BlushQ 4

ing

ing has little lefs power; and modefty in general, which is a tacit allowance of imperfection, is itself confidered as an amiable quality, and certainly heightens every other that is fo. I know it is in every body's mouth, that we ought to love perfection. This is to me a fufficient proof, that it is not the proper object of love. Who ever faid we ought to love a fine woman, or even any of these beautiful animals which please us? Here to be affected, there is no need of the concurrence of our will.

SECT. X.

HOW FAR THE IDEA OF BEAUTY MAY BE APPLIED

TO THE QUALITIES OF THE MIND.

NOR is this remark in general lefs applicable to the qualities of the mind. Those virtues which caufe admiration, and are of the fublimer kind, produce terrour rather than love; fuch as fortitude, juftice, wifdom, and the like. Never was any man amiable by force of thefe qualities. Those which engage our hearts, which imprefs us with a fenfe of lovelinefs, are the fofter virtues; cafinefs of temper, compaffion, kindnefs, and liberality; though certainly thofe latter are of lefs immediate and momentous concern to fociety, and of lefs dignity. But it is for that reason that they are fo amiable. The great virtues turn principally

on

on dangers, punishments, and troubles, and are exercised rather in preventing the worst mischiefs, than in difpenfing favours; and are therefore not lovely, though highly venerable. The fubordinate turn on reliefs, gratifications, and indulgences; and are therefore more lovely, though inferiour in dignity. Thofe perfons who creep into the hearts of most people, who are chofen as the companions of their fofter hours, and their reliefs from care and anxiety, are never perfons of fhining qualities or ftrong virtues. It is rather the foft green of the foul on which we reft our eyes that are fatigued with beholding more glaring objects. It is worth obferving how we feel ourselves affected in reading the characters of Cæfar and Cato, as they are fo finely drawn and contrafted in Salluft. In one the ignofcendo, largiundo; in the other, nil largiundo. In one the miferis perfugium; in the other, malis perniciem. In the latter we have much to admire, much to reverence, and perhaps fomething to fear; we refpect him, but we refpect him at a diftance. The former makes us familiar with him; we love him, and he leads us whither he pleases. To draw things closer to our first and most natural feelings, I will add a remark made upon reading this fection by an ingenious friend. The authority of a father, fo useful to our well-being, and so justly venerable upon all accounts, hinders us from having that entire love for him that we