interest, is accused of meanness, if through ignorance, of simplicity.
'Tis necessary, therefore, to know our rank and station in the world, whether it be fixed by our birth, fortune, employments, talents, or reputation. 'Tis necessary to feel the sentiment and passion of pride in conformity to it, and to regulate our actions accordingly. And should it be said, that prudence may suffice to regulate our actions in this particular, without any real pride, I would observe, that here the object of prudence is to conform our actions to the general usage and custom; and that 'tis impossible those tacit airs of superiority should ever have been established and authorized by custom, unless men were generally proud, and unless that passion were generally approved, when well-grounded.
If we pass from common life and conversation to history, this reasoning acquires new force, when we observe, that all those great actions and sentiments which have become the admiration of mankind, are founded on nothing but pride and self-esteem. 'Go,' says Alexander the Great to his soldiers, when they refused to follow him to the Indies, 'go tell your countrymen, that you left Alexander completing the conquest of the world.' This passage was always particularly admired by the prince of Condé, as we learn from St Evremond. 'Alexander,' said that prince, 'abandoned by his soldiers, among barbarians not yet fully subdued, felt in himself such a dignity and right of empire, that he could not believe it possible any one could refuse to obey him. Whether in Europe or in Asia, among Greeks or Persians, all was indifferent to him; wherever he found men, he fancied he had found subjects.'
In general, we may observe, that whatever we call _heroic virtue_, and admire under the character of greatness and elevation of mind, is either nothing but a steady and well-established pride and self-esteem, or partakes largely of that passion. Courage, intrepidity, ambition, love of glory, magnanimity, and all the other shining virtues of that kind, have plainly a strong mixture of self-esteem in them, and derive a great part of their merit from that origin. Accordingly we find, that many religious declaimers decry those virtues as purely pagan and natural, and represent to us the excellency of the _Christian_ religion, which places humility in the rank of virtues, and corrects the judgment of the world, and even of philosophers, who so generally admire all the efforts of pride and ambition. Whether this virtue of humility has been rightly understood, I shall not pretend to determine.
I am content with the concession, that the world naturally esteems a well-regulated pride, which secretly animates our conduct, without breaking out into such indecent expressions of vanity as may offend the vanity of others.
The merit of pride or self-esteem is derived from two circumstances, viz. its utility, and its agreeableness to ourselves; by which it capacitates us for business, and at the same time gives us an immediate satisfaction. When it goes beyond its just bounds, it loses the first advantage, and even becomes prejudicial; which is the reason why we condemn an extravagant pride and ambition, however regulated by the decorums of good-breeding and politeness. But as such a passion is still agreeable, and conveys an elevated and sublime sensation to the person who is actuated by it, the sympathy with that satisfaction diminishes considerably the blame which naturally attends its dangerous influence on our conduct and behaviour. Accordingly we may observe, that an excessive courage and magnanimity, especially when it displays itself under the frowns of fortune, contributes in a great measure to the character of a hero, and will render a person the admiration of posterity, at the same time that it ruins his affairs, and leads him into dangers and difficulties with which otherwise he would never have been acquainted.
Heroism, or military glory, is much admired by the generality of mankind. They consider it as the most sublime kind of merit. Men of cool reflection are not so sanguine in their praises of it. The infinite confusions and disorder which it has caused in the world, diminish much of its merit in their eyes. When they would oppose the popular notions on this head, they always paint out the evils which this supposed virtue has produced in human society; the subversion of empires, the devastation of provinces, the sack of cities. As long as these are present to us, we are more inclined to hate than admire the ambition of heroes. But when we fix our view on the person himself, who is the author of all this mischief, there is something so dazzling in his character, the mere contemplation of it so elevates the mind, that we cannot refuse it our admiration. The pain which we receive from its tendency to the prejudice of society, is overpowered by a stronger and more immediate sympathy.
Thus, our explication of the merit or demerit which attends the degrees of pride or self-esteem, may serve as a strong argument for the preceding hypothesis, by showing the effects of those principles above explained in all the variations of our judgments concerning that passion. Nor will this reasoning be advantageous to us only by showing, that the distinction of vice and virtue arises from the _four_ principles of the _advantage_ and of the _pleasure_ of the _person himself_ and of _others_, but may also afford us a strong proof of some under parts of that hypothesis.
No one who duly considers of this matter will make any scruple of allowing, that any piece of ill-breeding, or any expression of pride and haughtiness, is displeasing to us, merely because it shocks our own pride, and leads us by sympathy into a comparison which causes the disagreeable passion of humility. Now, as an insolence of this kind is blamed even in a person who has always been civil to ourselves in particular, nay, in one whose name is only known to us in history, it follows that our disapprobation proceeds from a sympathy with others, and from the reflection that such a character is highly displeasing and odious to every one who converses or has any intercourse with the person possest of it. We sympathize with those people in their uneasiness; and as their uneasiness proceeds in part from a sympathy with the person who insults them, we may here observe a double rebound of the sympathy, which is a principle very similar to what we have observed on another occasion.[5] [1] Decentior equus cujus astricta sunt ilia; sed idem velocior.
Pulcher aspectu sit athleta, cujus lacertos exercitatio expressit; idem certamini paratior. Nunquam vero _species ab utilitate_ dividitur. Sed hoc quidem discernere, modici judicii est.--Quinct. lib. 8.
[2] Book II. Part II. Sect 8.
[3] Suavi mari magno turbantibus æquora ventis E terra magnum alterius spectare laborem; Non quia vexari quenquam est jucunda voluptas, Sed quibus ipse malis careas quia cernere suav'est.--_Lucret_.
[4] Book II. Part II. Sect 10.
SECTION III.
OF GOODNESS AND BENEVOLENCE.
Having thus explained the origin of that praise and approbation which attends every thing we call _great_ in human affections, we now proceed to give an account of their _goodness_, and show whence its merit is derived.
When experience has once given us a competent knowledge of human affairs, and has taught us the proportion they bear to human passion, we perceive that the generosity of men is very limited, and that it seldom extends beyond their friends and family, or, at most, beyond their native country. Being thus acquainted with the nature of man, we expect not any impossibilities from him; but confine our view to that narrow circle in which any person moves, in order to form a judgment of his moral character. When the natural tendency of his passions leads him to be serviceable and useful within his sphere, we approve of his character, and love his person, by a sympathy with the sentiments of those who have a more particular connexion with him. We are quickly obliged to forget get our own interest in our judgments of this kind, by reason of the perpetual contradictions we meet with in society and conversation, from persons that are not placed in the same situation, and have not the same interest with ourselves. The only point of view in which our sentiments concur with those of others, is when we consider the tendency of any passion to the advantage or harm of those who have any immediate connexion or intercourse with the person possessed of it. And though this advantage or harm be often very remote from ourselves, yet sometimes 'tis very near us, and interests us strongly by sympathy. This concern we readily extend to other cases that are resembling; and when these are very remote, our sympathy is proportionably weaker, and our praise or blame fainter and more doubtful. The case is here the same as in our judgments concerning external bodies. All objects seem to diminish by their distance; but though the appearance of objects to our senses be the original standard by which we judge of them, yet we do not say that they actually diminish by the distance; but, correcting the appearance by reflection, arrive at a more constant and established judgment concerning them. In like manner, though sympathy be much fainter than our concern for ourselves, and a sympathy with persons remote from us much fainter than that with persons near and contiguous, yet we neglect all these differences in our calm judgments concerning the characters of men. Besides that we ourselves often change our situation in this particular, we every day meet with persons who are in a different situation from ourselves, and who could never converse with us on any reasonable terms, were we to remain constantly in that situation and point of view which is peculiar to us. The intercourse of sentiments, therefore, in society and conversation, makes us form some general unalterable standard by which we may approve or disapprove of characters and manners. And though the _heart_ does not always take part with those general notions, or regulate its love and hatred by them, yet are they sufficient for discourse, and serve all our purposes in company, in the pulpit, on the theatre, and in the schools.
From these principles, we may easily account for that merit which is commonly ascribed to _generosity, humanity, compassion, gratitude, friendship, fidelity, zeal, disinterestedness, liberality_, and all those other qualities which form the character of good and benevolent.
A propensity to the tender passions makes a man agreeable and useful in all the parts of life, and gives a just direction to all his other qualities, which otherwise may become prejudicial to society. Courage and ambition, when not regulated by benevolence, are fit only to make a tyrant and public robber. 'Tis the same case with judgment and capacity, and all the qualities of that kind. They are indifferent in themselves to the interests of society, and have a tendency to the good or ill of mankind, according as they are directed by these other passions.
As love is _immediately agreeable_ to the person who is actuated by it, and hatred _immediately disagreeable_, this may also be a considerable reason why we praise all the passions that partake of the former, and blame all those that have any considerable share of the latter.
'Tis certain we are infinitely touched with a tender sentiment, as well as with a great one. The tears naturally start in our eyes at the conception of it; nor can we forbear giving a loose to the same tenderness towards the person who exerts it. All this seems to me a proof that our approbation has, in these cases, an origin different from the prospect of utility and advantage, either to ourselves or others. To which we may add, that men naturally, without reflection, approve of that character which is most like their own. The man of a mild disposition and tender affections, in forming a notion of the most perfect virtue, mixes in it more of benevolence and humanity than the man of courage and enterprise, who naturally looks upon a certain elevation of the mind as the most accomplished character. This must evidently proceed from an _immediate_ sympathy, which men have with characters similar to their own. They enter with more warmth into such sentiments, and feel more sensibly the pleasure which arises from them.
'Tis remarkable, that nothing touches a man of humanity more than any instance of extraordinary delicacy in love or friendship, where a person is attentive to the smallest concerns of his friend, and is willing to sacrifice to them the most considerable interest of his own.
Such delicacies have little influence on society; because they make us regard the greatest trifles: but they are the more engaging the more minute the concern is, and are a proof of the highest merit in any one who is capable of them. The passions are so contagious, that they pass with the greatest facility from one person to another, and produce correspondent movements in all human breasts. Where friendship appears in very signal instances, my heart catches the same passion, and is warmed by those warm sentiments that display themselves before me. Such agreeable, movements must give me an affection to every one that excites them. This is the case with every thing that is agreeable in any person. The transition from pleasure to love is easy: but the transition must here be still more easy; since the agreeable sentiment which is excited by sympathy, is love itself; and there is nothing required but to change the object.
Hence the peculiar merit of benevolence in all its shapes and appearances. Hence even its weaknesses are virtuous and amiable; and a person, whose grief upon the loss of a friend were excessive, would be esteemed upon that account. His tenderness bestows a merit, as it does a pleasure, on his melancholy.
We are not, however, to imagine that all the angry passions are vicious, though they are disagreeable. There is a certain indulgence due to human nature in this respect. Anger and hatred are passions inherent in our very frame and constitution. The want of them, on some occasions, may even be a proof of weakness and imbecility. And where they appear only in a low degree, we not only excuse them because they are natural, but even bestow our applauses on them, because they are inferior to what appears in the greatest part of mankind.
Where these angry passions rise up to cruelty, they form the most detested of all vices. All the pity and concern which we have for the miserable sufferers by this vice, turns against the person guilty of it, and produces a stronger hatred than we are sensible of on any other occasion.
Even when the vice of inhumanity rises not to this extreme degree, our sentiments concerning it are very much influenced by reflections on the harm that results from it. And we may observe in general, that if we can find any quality in a person, which renders him incommodious to those who live and converse with him, we always allow it to be a fault or blemish, without any farther examination. On the other hand, when we enumerate the good qualities of any person, we always mention those parts of his character which render him a safe companion, an easy friend, a gentle master, an agreeable husband, or an indulgent father.
We consider him with all his relations in society; and love or hate him, according as he affects those who have any immediate intercourse with him. And 'tis a most certain rule, that if there be no relation of life in which I could not wish to stand to a particular person, his character must so far be allowed to be perfect. If he be as little wanting to himself as to others, his character is entirely perfect.
This is the ultimate test of merit and virtue.
[5] Book II. Part II. Sect. 5.
SECTION IV.
OF NATURAL ABILITIES.
No distinction is more usual in all systems of ethics, than that betwixt _natural abilities_ and _moral virtues_; where the former are placed on the same footing with bodily endowments, and are supposed to have no merit or moral worth annexed to them. Whoever considers the matter accurately, will find, that a dispute upon this head would be merely a dispute of words, and that, though these qualities are not altogether of the same kind, yet they agree in the most material circumstances. They are both of them equally mental qualities: and both of them equally produce pleasure; and have of course an equal tendency to procure the love and esteem of mankind. There are few who are not as jealous of their character, with regard to sense and knowledge, as to honour and courage; and much more than with regard to temperance and sobriety. Men are even afraid of passing for good-natured, lest _that_ should be taken for want of understanding; and often boast of more debauches than they have been really engaged in, to give themselves airs of fire and spirit. In short, the figure a man makes in the world, the reception he meets with in company, the esteem paid him by his acquaintance; all these advantages depend almost as much upon his good sense and judgment, as upon any other part of his character.
Let a man have the best intentions in the world, and be the farthest from all injustice and violence, he will never be able to make himself be much regarded, without a moderate share, at least, of parts and understanding. Since then natural abilities, though perhaps inferior, yet are on the same footing, both as to their causes and effects, with those qualities which we call moral virtues, why should we make any distinction betwixt them?
Though we refuse to natural abilities the title of virtues, we must allow, that they procure the love and esteem of mankind; that they give a new lustre to the other virtues; and that a man possessed of them is much more entitled to our good will and services than one entirely void of them. It may indeed be pretended, that the sentiment of approbation which those qualities produce, besides its being _inferior_, is also somewhat _different_ from that which attends the other virtues. But this, in my opinion, is not a sufficient reason for excluding them from the catalogue of virtues. Each of the virtues, even benevolence, justice, gratitude, integrity, excites a different sentiment or feeling in the spectator. The characters of Cæsar and Cato, as drawn by Sallust, are both of them virtuous, in the strictest sense of the word, but in a different way: nor are the sentiments entirely the same which arise from them. The one produces love, the other esteem; the one is amiable, the other awful: we could wish to meet with the one character in a friend, the other character we would be ambitious of in ourselves.
In like manner, the approbation which attends natural abilities, may be somewhat different to the feeling from that which arises from the other virtues, without making them entirely of a different species. And indeed we may observe, that the natural abilities, no more than the other virtues, produce not, all of them, the same kind of approbation.
Good sense and genius beget esteem; wit and humour excite love.[6] Those who represent the distinction betwixt natural abilities and moral virtues as very material, may say, that the former are entirely involuntary, and have therefore no merit attending them, as having no dependence on liberty and free will. But to this I answer, _first_, That many of those qualities which all moralists, especially the ancients, comprehend under the title of moral virtues, are equally involuntary and necessary with the qualities of the judgment and imagination. Of this nature are constancy, fortitude, magnanimity; and, in short, all the qualities which form the _great_ man. I might say the same, in some degree, of the others; it being almost impossible for the mind to change its character in any considerable article, or cure itself of a passionate or splenetic temper, when they are natural to it. The greater degree there is of these blameable qualities, the more vicious they become, and yet they are the less voluntary.
_Secondly_, I would have any one give me a reason, why virtue and vice may not be involuntary, as well as beauty and deformity. These moral distinctions arise from the natural distinctions of pain and pleasure; and when we receive those feelings from the general consideration of any quality or character, we denominate it vicious or virtuous.
Now I believe no one will assert, that a quality can never produce pleasure or pain to the person who considers it, unless it be perfectly voluntary in the person who possesses it. _Thirdly_, As to free will, we have shown that it has no place with regard to the actions, no more than the qualities of men. It is not a just consequence, that what is voluntary is free. Our actions are more voluntary than our judgments; but we have not more liberty in the one than in the other.
But, though this distinction betwixt voluntary and involuntary, be not sufficient to justify the distinction betwixt natural abilities and moral virtues, yet the former distinction will afford us a plausible reason, why moralists have invented the latter. Men have observed, that, though natural abilities and moral qualities be in the main on the same footing, there is, however, this difference betwixt them, that the former are almost invariable by any art or industry; while the latter, or at least the actions that proceed from them, may be changed by the motives of rewards and punishment, praise and blame.
Hence legislators and divines and moralists have principally applied themselves to the regulating these voluntary actions, and have endeavoured to produce additional motives for being virtuous in that particular. They knew, that to punish a man for folly, or exhort him to be prudent and sagacious, would have but little effect; though the same punishments and exhortations, with regard to justice and injustice, might have a considerable influence. But as men, in common life and conversation, do not carry those ends in view, but naturally praise or blame whatever pleases or displeases them, they do not seem much to regard this distinction, but consider prudence under the character of virtue as well as benevolence, and penetration as well as justice.
Nay, we find that all moralists, whose judgment is not perverted by a strict adherence to a system, enter into the same way of thinking; and that the ancient moralists, in particular, made no scruple of placing prudence at the head of the cardinal virtues. There is a sentiment of esteem and approbation, which may be excited, in some degree, by any faculty of the mind, in its perfect state and condition; and to account for this sentiment is the business of _philosophers_. It belongs to _grammarians_ to examine what qualities are entitled to the denomination of _virtue_; nor will they find, upon trial, that this is so easy a task as at first sight they may be apt to imagine.
The principal reason why natural abilities are esteemed, is because of their tendency to be useful to the person who is possessed of them. 'Tis impossible to execute any design with success, where it is not conducted with prudence and discretion; nor will the goodness of our intentions alone suffice to procure us a happy issue to our enterprises. Men are superior to beasts principally by the superiority of their reason; and they are the degrees of the same faculty, which set such an infinite difference betwixt one man and another. All the advantages of art are owing to human reason; and where fortune is not very capricious, the most considerable part of these advantages must fall to the share of the prudent and sagacious.
When it is asked, whether a quick or a slow apprehension be most valuable? whether one, that at first view penetrates into a subject, but can perform nothing upon study; or a contrary character, which must work out every thing by dint of application? whether a clear head, or a copious invention? whether a profound genius, or a sure judgment? in short, what character, or peculiar understanding, is more excellent than another? 'Tis evident we can answer none of these questions, without considering which of those qualities capacitates a man best for the world, and carries him farthest in any of his undertakings.
There are many other qualities of the mind, whose merit is derived from the same origin. _Industry, perseverance, patience, activity, vigilance, application, constancy_, with other virtues of that kind, which 'twill be easy to recollect, are esteemed valuable upon no other account than their advantage in the conduct of life. 'Tis the same case with _temperance, frugality, economy, resolution_; as, on the other hand, _prodigality, luxury, irresolution, uncertainty_, are vicious, merely because they draw ruin upon us, and incapacitate us for business and action.
As wisdom and good sense are valued because they are _useful_ to the person possessed of them, so _wit_ and _eloquence_ are valued because they are _immediately agreeable_ to others. On the other hand, _good humour_ is loved and esteemed, because it is _immediately agreeable_ to the person himself. 'Tis evident, that the conversation of a man of wit is very satisfactory; as a cheerful good-humoured companion diffuses a joy over the whole company, from a sympathy with his gaiety. These qualities, therefore, being agreeable, they naturally beget love and esteem, and answer to all the characters of virtue.
'Tis difficult to tell, on many occasions, what it is that renders one man's conversation so agreeable and entertaining, and another's so insipid and distasteful. As conversation is a transcript of the mind as well as books, the same qualities which render the one valuable must give us an esteem for the other. This we shall consider afterwards.
In the mean time, it may be affirmed in general, that all the merit a man may derive from his conversation (which, no doubt, may be very considerable) arises from nothing but the pleasure it conveys to those who are present.
In this view, _cleanliness_ is also to be regarded as a virtue, since it naturally renders us agreeable to others, and is a very considerable source of love and affection. No one will deny that a negligence in this particular is a fault; and as faults are nothing but smaller vices, and this fault can have no other origin than the uneasy sensation which it excites in others, we may in this instance, seemingly so trivial, clearly discover the origin of the moral distinction of vice and virtue in other instances.
Besides all those qualities which render a person lovely or valuable, there is also a certain _je-ne-sçai-quoi_ of agreeable and handsome that concurs to the same effect. In this case, as well as in that of wit and eloquence, we must have recourse to a certain sense, which acts without reflection, and regards not the tendencies of qualities and characters. Some moralists account for all the sentiments of virtue by this sense. Their hypothesis is very plausible. Nothing but a particular inquiry can give the preference to any other hypothesis.
When we find that almost all the virtues have such particular tendencies, and also find that these tendencies are sufficient alone to give a strong sentiment of approbation, we cannot doubt, after this, that qualities are approved of in proportion to the advantage which results from them.
The _decorum_ or _indecorum_ of a quality, with regard to the age, or character, or station, contributes also to its praise or blame.
This decorum depends in a great measure upon experience. 'Tis usual to see men lose their levity as they advance in years. Such a degree of gravity, therefore, and such years, are connected together in our thoughts. When we observe, them separated in any person's character, this imposes a kind of violence on our imagination, and is disagreeable.
That faculty of the soul which, of all others, is of the least consequence to the character, and has the least virtue or vice in its several degrees, at the same time that it admits of a great variety of degrees, is the _memory_. Unless it rise up to that stupendous height as to surprise us, or sink so low as in some measure to affect the judgment, we commonly take no notice of its variations, nor ever mention them to the praise or dispraise of any person. 'Tis so far from being a virtue to have a good memory, that men generally affect to complain of a bad one; and, endeavouring to persuade the world that what they say is entirely of their own invention, sacrifice it to the praise of genius and judgment. Yet, to consider the matter abstractedly,'twould be difficult to give a reason why the faculty of recalling past ideas with truth and clearness, should not have as much merit in it as the faculty of placing our present ideas in such an order as to form true propositions and opinions. The reason of the difference certainly must be, that the memory is exerted without any sensation of pleasure or pain, and in all its middling degrees serves almost equally well in business and affairs. But the least variations in the judgment are sensibly felt in their consequences; while at the same time that faculty is never exerted in any eminent degree, without an extraordinary delight and satisfaction. The sympathy with this utility and pleasure bestows a merit on the understanding; and the absence of it makes us consider the memory as a faculty very indifferent to blame or praise.
Before I leave this subject of _natural abilities_, I must observe, that perhaps one source of the esteem and affection which attends them, is derived from the _importance_ and _weight_ which they bestow on the person possessed of them. He becomes of greater consequence in life. His resolutions and actions affect a greater number of his fellow-creatures. Both his friendship and enmity are of moment. And 'tis easy to observe, that whoever is elevated, after this manner, above the rest of mankind, must excite in us the sentiments of esteem and approbation. Whatever is important engages our attention, fixes our thought, and is contemplated with satisfaction. The histories of kingdoms are more interesting than domestic stories; the histories of great empires more than those of small cities and principalities; and the histories of wars and revolutions more than those of peace and order. We sympathize with the persons that suffer, in all the various sentiments which belong to their fortunes. The mind is occupied by the multitude of the objects, and by the strong passions that display themselves. And this occupation or agitation of the mind is commonly agreeable and amusing. The same theory accounts for the esteem and regard we pay to men of extraordinary parts and abilities. The good and ill of multitudes are connected with their actions. Whatever they undertake is important, and challenges our attention. Nothing is to be overlooked and despised that regards them. And where any person can excite these sentiments, he soon acquires our esteem, unless other circumstances of his character render him odious and disagreeable.
[6] Love and esteem are at the bottom the same passions, and arise from like causes. The qualities that produce both are agreeable, and give pleasure. But where this pleasure is severe and serious; or where its object is great, and makes a strong impression; or where it produces any degree of humility and awe: in all these cases, the passion which arises from the pleasure is more properly denominated esteem than love.
Benevolence attends both; but is connected with love in a more eminent degree.
SECTION V.
SOME FARTHER REFLECTIONS CONCERNING THE NATURAL VIRTUES.
It has been observed, in treating of the Passions, that pride and humility, love and hatred, are excited by any advantages or disadvantages of the _mind, body_, or _fortune_; and that these advantages or disadvantages have that effect by producing a separate impression of pain or pleasure. The pain or pleasure which arises from the general survey or view of any action or quality of the _mind_, constitutes its vice or virtue, and gives rise to our approbation or blame, which is nothing but a fainter and more imperceptible love or hatred. We have assigned four different sources of this pain and pleasure; and, in order to justify more fully that hypothesis, it may here be proper to observe, that the advantages or disadvantages of the _body_ and of _fortune_, produce a pain or pleasure from the very same principles. The tendency of any object to be _useful_ to the person possessed of it, or to others; to convey _pleasure_ to him or to others; all these circumstances convey an immediate pleasure to the person who considers the object, and command his love and approbation.
To begin with the advantages of the _body_; we may observe a phenomenon which might appear somewhat trivial and ludicrous, if any thing could be trivial which fortified a conclusion of such importance, or ludicrous, which was employed in a philosophical reasoning. 'Tis a general remark, that those we call good _women's men_, who have either signalized themselves by their amorous exploits, or whose make of body promises any extraordinary vigour of that kind, are well received by the fair sex, and naturally engage the affections even of those whose virtue prevents any design of ever giving employment to those talents.
Here 'tis evident that the ability of such a person to give enjoyment, is the real source of that love and esteem he meets with among the females; at the same time that the women who love and esteem him have no prospect of receiving that enjoyment themselves, and can only be affected by means of their sympathy with one that has a commerce of love with him. This instance is singular, and merits our attention.
Another source of the pleasure we receive from considering bodily advantages, is their utility to the person himself who is possessed of them. 'Tis certain, that a considerable part of the beauty of men, as well as of other animals, consists in such a conformation of members as we find by experience to be attended with strength and agility, and to capacitate the creature for any action or exercise. Broad shoulders, a lank belly, firm joints, taper legs; all these are beautiful in our species, because they are signs of force and vigour, which, being advantages we naturally sympathize with, they convey to the beholder a share of that satisfaction they produce in the possessor.
So far as to the _utility_ which may attend any quality of the body.
As to the immediate _pleasure_, 'tis certain that an air of health, as well as of strength and agility, makes a considerable part of beauty; and that a sickly air in another is always disagreeable, upon account of that idea of pain and uneasiness which it conveys to us. On the other hand, we are pleased with the regularity of our own features, though it be neither useful to ourselves nor others; and 'tis necessary