1. The Sense of Beauty
From Of Beauty, Order, Harmony, Design
Sect. I. Concerning some powers of perception, distinct from what is generally understood by sensation
To make the following observations understood, it may be necessary to premise some definitions, and observations, either universally acknowledged, or sufficiently proved by many writers both ancient and modern, concerning our perceptions called sensations, and the actions of the mind consequent upon them.
[I.] Those ideas which are raised in the mind upon the presence of external objects, and their acting upon our bodies, are called sensations. We find that the mind in such cases is passive, and has not power directly to prevent the perception or idea, or to vary it as its reception, as long as we continue our bodies in a state fit to be acted upon by the external object.
II. When two perceptions are entirely different from each other, or agree in nothing but the general idea of sensation, we call the powers of receiving those different perceptions, different senses. Thus seeing and hearing denote the different powers of receiving the ideas of colours and sounds. And although colours have great differences among themselves, as also have sounds; yet there is a greater agreement among the most opposite colours than between any colour and a sound: hence we call all colours perceptions of the same sense. All the several senses seem to have their distinct organs, except feeling, which is in some degree diffused over the whole body.
III. The mind has a power of compounding ideas, which were received separately; of comparing objects by means of the ideas, and of observing their relations and proportions; of enlarging and diminishing its ideas at pleasure, or in any certain ratio, or degree; and of considering separately each of the simple ideas, which might perhaps have been impressed jointly in the sensation. This last operation we commonly call abstraction.
IV. The ideas of substances are compounded of the various simple ideas jointly impressed, when they presented themselves to our senses. We define substances only by enumerating these sensible ideas. And such definitions may raise an idea clear enough of the substances in the mind of one who never immediately perceived the substance; provided he has separately received by his senses all the simple ideas which are in the composition of the complex one of the substance defined: but if there be any simple ideas which he has not received, or if he wants any of the senses necessary for the perception of them, no definition can raise any simple idea which has not been before perceived by the senses.
V. Hence it follows, ‘that when instruction, education, or prejudice of any kind, raise any desire or aversion toward an object, this desire or aversion must be founded upon an opinion of some perfection, or of some deficiency in those qualities, for perception of which we have the proper senses.’ Thus, if beauty be desired by one who has not the sense of sight, the desire must be must be raised by some apprehended regularity of figure, sweetness of voice, smoothness, or softness, or some other quality perceivable by the other senses, without relation to the ideas of colour.
VI. Many of our sensitive perceptions are pleasant and many painful, immediately, and that without any knowledge of the cause of this pleasure or pain, or how the objects excite it, or are the occasions of it; or without seeing to what farther advantage or detriment the use of such objects might tend: nor would the most accurate knowledge of these things vary either the pleasure or pain of the perception, however it might give a rational pleasure distinct from the sensible; or might raise a distinct joy, from a prospect of farther advantage in the object, or aversion, from an apprehension of evil.
VII. The simple ideas raised in different persons by the same object, are probably some way different, when they disagree in their approbation or dislike; and in the same person, when his fancy at one time differs from what it was at another. This will appear from reflecting on those objects, to which we have now an aversion, though they were, formerly agreeable: and we shall generally find that there is some accidental conjunction of a disagreeable idea, which always recurs with the object; as in those wines to which men acquire an aversion, after they have taken them in an emetic preparation, we are conscious that the idea is altered from what it was when that wine was agreeable, by the conjunction of the ideas of loathing and sickness of stomach. The like change of idea may be insensibly made by the change of our bodies as we advance in years, or when we are accustomed to any object, which may occasion an indifference toward meats we were fond of in our childhood; and may make some objects cease to raise the disagreeable ideas, which they excited upon our first use of them. Many of our simple perceptions are disagreeable only through the too great intenseness of the quality: thus moderate light is agreeable, very strong light may be painful; moderate bitter may be pleasant, a higher degree may be offensive. A change in our organs will necessarily occasion a change in the intenseness of the perception at least; nay, sometimes will occasion a quite contrary perception: thus a warm hand shall feel that water cold, which a cold hand shall feel warm.
We shall not find it perhaps so easy to account for the diversity of fancy about more complex ideas of objects, in which we regard many ideas of different senses at once; as some perceptions of those called primary qualities, and some secondary, as explained by Mr. Locke:[1] for instance, in the different fancies about architecture, gardening, dress. Of the two former we shall offer something in sect. VI. As to dress, we may generally account for the diversity of fancies from a like conjunction of ideas: thus, if either from anything in nature, or from the opinion of our country or acquaintance, the fancying of glaring colours be looked upon as an evidence of levity, or of any other evil quality of mind; or if any colour or fashion be commonly used by rustic, or by men of any disagreeable profession, employment, or temper; these additional ideas may recur constantly with that of the colour or fashion, and cause a constant dislike to them in those who join the additional ideas, although the colour or form be no way disagreeable of themselves, and actually do please others who join no such ideas to them. But there does not seem to be any ground to believe such a diversity in human minds, as that the same simple idea or perception should give pleasure to one and pain to another, or to the same person at different times; not to say that it seems a contradiction, that the same simple idea should do so.
VIII. The only pleasure of sense, which many philosophers seem to consider, is that which accompanies the simple ideas of sensation: but there are far greater pleasures in those complex ideas of objects, which obtain the names of beautiful, regular, harmonious. Thus everyone acknowledges he is more delighted with a fine face, a just picture, than with the view of any one colour, were it as strong and lively as possible; and more pleased with a prospect of the sun arising among settled clouds, and colouring their edges, with a starry hemisphere, a fine landscape, a regular building, than with a clear blue sky, a smooth sea, or a large open plain, not diversified by woods, hills, waters, buildings: and yet even these latter appearances are not quite simple. So in music, the pleasure of fine composition is incomparably greater than that of any one note, how sweet, full, or swelling soever.
IX. Let it be observed, that in the following papers, the word beauty is taken for the idea raised in us, and a sense of beauty for our power of receiving this idea. Harmony also denotes our pleasant ideas arising from composition of sounds, and a good ear (as it is generally taken) a power of perceiving this pleasure. In the following sections, an attempt is made to discover ‘what is the immediate occasion of these pleasant ideas, or what real quality in the objects ordinarily excites them.’
X. It is of no consequence whether we call these ideas of beauty and harmony, perceptions of the external senses of seeing and hearing, or not. I should rather choose to call our power of perceiving these ideas, an internal sense, were it only for the convenience of distinguishing them from other sensations of seeing and hearing, which men may have without perception of beauty and harmony. It is plain from experience, that many men have, in the common meaning, the senses of seeing and hearing perfect enough; they perceive all the simple ideas separately, and have their pleasures; they distinguish them from each other, such as one colour from another, either quite different, or the stronger or fainter of the same colour; when they are placed beside each other, although they may often confound their names when they occur apart from each other, as some do the names of green and blue; they can tell in separate notes the higher, lower, sharper or flatter, when separately sounded; in figures they discern the length, breadth, wideness of each line, surface, angle; and may be as capable of hearing and seeing at great distances as any men whatsoever: and yet perhaps they shall find no pleasure in musical compositions, in painting, architecture, natural landscape; or but a very weak one in comparison of what others enjoy from the same objects. This greater capacity of receiving such pleasant ideas we commonly call a fine genius or taste: in music we seem universally to acknowledge something like a distinct sense from the external one of hearing, and call it a good ear; and the like distinction we should probably acknowledge in other objects, had we also got distinct names to denote these powers of perception by.
XI. We generally imagine the brute animals endowed with the same sort of powers of perception as our external senses, and having sometimes greater acuteness in them: but we conceive few or none of them with any of these sublimer powers of perception here called internal senses; or at least if some of them have them, it is in a degree much inferior to ours.
There will appear another reason perhaps hereafter, for calling this power of perceiving the ideas of beauty, an internal sense, from this, that in some other affairs, where our external senses are not much concerned, we discern a sort of beauty, very like, in many respects, to that observed in sensible objects, and accompanied with like pleasure: such is that beauty perceived in theorems, or universal truths, in general causes, and in some extensive principles of action.
XII. Let one consider, first, that ’tis probable a being may have the full power of external sensation, which we enjoy, so as to perceive each colour, line, surface, as we do; yet, without the power of comparing, or of discerning the similitudes or proportions; again, it might discern these also, and yet have no pleasure or delight accompanying these perceptions. The bare idea of the form is something separable from pleasure, as may appear from the different tastes of men about the beauty of forms, where we don’t imagine that they differ in any ideas, either of the primary or secondary qualities. Similitude, proportion, analogy, or equality of proportion, are objects of the understanding, and must be actually known before we know the natural causes of our pleasure. But pleasure perhaps is not necessarily connected with the perception of them: and may be felt where the proportion is not known or attended to: and may not be felt where the proportion is observed. Since then there are such different powers of perception, where what are commonly called the external senses are the same; since the most accurate knowledge of what the external senses discover, may often not give the pleasure of beauty or harmony, which yet one of a good taste will enjoy at once without much knowledge; we may justly use another name for these higher and more delightful perceptions of beauty and harmony, and call the power of receiving such impressions, an internal sense: the difference of the perceptions seems sufficient to vindicate the use of a different name, especially when we are told in what meaning the word is applied.
This superior power of perception is called a sense, because of its affinity to the other senses in this, that the pleasure is different from any knowledge of principles, proportions, causes, or of the usefulness of the object; we are struck at the first with the beauty: nor does the most accurate knowledge increase this pleasure of beauty, however it may superadd a distinct rational pleasure from prospects of advantage, or may bring along that peculiar kind of pleasure, which attends the increase of knowledge [see T1.I.vi].
XIII. And farther, the ideas of beauty and harmony, like other sensible ideas, are necessarily pleasant to us, as well as immediately so; neither can any resolution of our own, nor any prospect of advantage or disadvantage, vary the beauty or deformity of an object: for as in the external sensations, no view of interest will make an object grateful, nor view of detriment, distinct from immediate pain in the perception, make it disagreeable to the sense; so propose the whole world as a reward, or threaten the greatest evil, to make us approve a deformed object, or disapprove a beautiful one; dissimulation may be procured by rewards or threatenings, or we may in external conduct abstain from any pursuit of the beautiful, and pursue the deformed; but our sentiments of the forms, and our perceptions, would continue invariably the same.
XIV. Hence it plainly appears, ‘that some objects are immediately the occasions of this pleasure of beauty, and that we have senses fitted for perceiving it; and that it is distinct from that joy which arises upon prospect of advantage.’ Nay, do not we often see convenience and use neglected to obtain beauty, without any other prospect of advantage in the beautiful form, than the suggesting the pleasant ideas of beauty? Now this shows us, that however we may pursue beautiful objects from self-love, with a view to obtain the pleasures of beauty, as in architecture, gardening, and many other affairs; yet there must be a sense of beauty, antecedent to prospects even of this advantage, without which sense these objects would not be thus advantageous, nor excite in us this pleasure which constitutes them advantageous. Our sense of beauty from objects; by which they are constituted good to us, is very distinct from our desire of them when they are thus constituted: our desire of beauty may be counterbalanced by rewards or threatenings, but never our sense of it; even as fear of death may make us desire a bitter potion, or neglect those meats which the sense of taste would recommend as pleasant; but cannot make that potion agreeable to the sense, or meat disagreeable to it, which was not so antecedently to this prospect. The same holds true of the sense of beauty and harmony; that the pursuit of such objects is frequently neglected, from prospects of advantage, aversion to labour, or any other motive of interest, does not prove that we have no sense of beauty, but only that our desire of it may be counterbalanced by a stronger desire.
XV. Had we no such sense of beauty and harmony, houses, gardens, dress, equipage, might have been recommended to us as convenient, fruitful, warm, easy; but never as beautiful: and yet nothing is more certain, than that all these objects are recommended under quite different views on many occasions: ’tis true, what chiefly pleases in the countenance, are the indications of moral dispositions; and yet were we by the longest acquaintance fully convinced of the best moral dispositions in any person, with that countenance we now think deformed, this would never hinder our immediate dislike of the form, or our liking other forms more: and custom, education, or example, could never give us perceptions distinct from those of the senses which we had the use of before, or recommend objects under another conception than grateful to them [see T1.I.v]. But of the influence of custom, education, example, upon the sense of beauty, we shall treat below [see T1.VII].
XVI. Beauty, in corporeal forms, is either original or comparative; or, if any like the terms better, absolute, or relative: only let it be observed, that by absolute or original beauty, is not understood any quality supposed to be in the object, which should of itself be beautiful, without relation to any mind which perceives it: for beauty, like other names of sensible ideas, properly denotes the perception of some mind; so cold, hot, sweet, bitter, denote the sensations in our minds, to which perhaps there is no resemblance in the objects, which excite these ideas in us, however we generally imagine otherwise. The ideas of beauty and harmony being excited upon our perception of some primary quality, and having relation to figure and time, may indeed have a nearer resemblance to objects, than these sensations, which seem not so much any pictures of objects, as modifications of the perceiving mind; and yet were there no mind with a sense of beauty to contemplate objects, I see not how they could be called beautiful. We therefore by... absolute beauty understand only that beauty which we perceive in objects without comparison to anything external, of which the object is supposed an imitation, or picture; such as that beauty perceived from the works of nature, artificial forms, figures. Comparative or relative beauty is that which we perceive in objects, commonly considered as imitations or resemblances of something else. These two kinds of beauty employ the three following sections [T1.IV not included here].
Sect. II. Of original or absolute beauty
I. Since it is certain that we have ideas of beauty and harmony, let us examine what quality in objects excites these ideas, or is the occasion of them. And let it be here observed, that our inquiry is only about the qualities which are beautiful to men; or about the foundation of their sense of beauty: for, as was above hinted, beauty has always relation to the sense of some mind; and when we afterwards show how generally the objects which occur to us are beautiful, we mean, that such objects are agreeable to the sense of men: for there are many objects which seem no way beautiful to men, and yet other animals seem delighted with them; they may have senses otherwise constituted than those of men, and may have the ideas of beauty excited by objects of a quite different form. We see animals fitted for every place; and what to men appears rude and shapeless, or loathsome, may be to them a paradise.
II. That we may more distinctly discover the general foundation or occasion of the ideas of beauty among men, it will be necessary to consider it first in its simpler kinds, such as occurs to us in regular figures; and we may perhaps find that the same foundation extends to all the more complex species of it.
III. The figures which excite in us the ideas of beauty, seem to be those in which there is uniformity amidst variety. There are many conceptions of objects which are agreeable upon other accounts, such as grandeur, novelty, sanctity, and some others, which shall be mentioned hereafter [see T1.VI.xi-xiii]. But what we call beautiful in objects, to speak in the mathematical style, seems to be in a compound ratio of uniformity and variety so that where the uniformity of bodies is equal, the beauty is as the variety; and where the variety is equal, the beauty is as the uniformity. This will be plain from examples.
First, the variety increases the beauty in equal uniformity. The beauty of an equilateral triangle is less than that of the square; which is less than that of a pentagon; and this again is surpassed by the hexagon. When indeed the number of sides is much increased, the proportion of them to the radius, or diameter of the figure, or of the circle, to which regular polygons have an obvious relation, is so much lost to our observation, that the beauty does not always increase with the number of sides; and the want of parallelism in the sides of heptagons, and other figures of odd numbers, may also diminish their beauty. So in solids, the eicosiedron surpasses the dodecaedron, and this the octaedron, which is still more beautiful than the cube; and this again surpasses the regular pyramid: the obvious ground of this, is greater variety with equal uniformity.
The greater uniformity increases the beauty amidst equal variety, in these instances: an equilateral triangle, or even an isosceles, surpasses the scalenum: a square surpasses the rhombus or lozenge, and this again the rhomboides, which is still more beautiful than the trapezium, or any figure with irregular curve[d] sides. So the regular solids surpass all other solids of equal number of plain surfaces: and the same is observable not only in the five perfectly regular solids, but in all those which have any considerable uniformity, as cylinders, prisms, pyramids, obelisks; which please every eye more than any rude figures, where there is no unity or resemblance among the parts...
IV. These observations would probably hold true for the most part, and might be confirmed by the judgment of children in the simpler figures, where the variety is not too great for their comprehension. And however uncertain some of the particular aforesaid instances may seem, yet this is perpetually to be observed, that children are fond of all regular figures in their little diversions, although they be no more convenient, or useful for them, than the figures of our common pebbles: we see how early they discover a taste or sense of beauty, in desiring to see buildings, regular gardens, or even representations of them in pictures of any kind.
V. The same foundation we have for our sense of beauty, in the works of nature. In every part of the world which we call beautiful, there is a surprising uniformity amidst an almost infinite variety. Many parts of the universe seem not at all designed for the use of man; nay, it is but a very small spot with which we have any acquaintance. The figures and motions of the great bodies are not obvious to our senses, but found out by reasoning and reflection, upon many long observations: and yet as far as we can by sense discover, or by reasoning enlarge our knowledge, and extend our imagination, we generally find their structure, order, and motion, agreeable to our sense of beauty. Every particular object in nature does not indeed appear beautiful to us; but there is a great profusion of beauty over most of the objects which occur either to our senses, or reasonings upon observation: for, not to mention the apparent situation of the heavenly bodies in the circumference of a great sphere, which is wholly occasioned by the imperfection of our sight in discerning distances; the forms of all the great bodies in the universe are nearly spherical; the orbits of their revolutions generally elliptic, and without great eccentricity, in those which continually occur to our observation: now these are figures of great uniformity, and therefore pleasing to us.
Further, to pass by the less obvious uniformity in the proportion of their quantities of matter, distances, times, of revolving, to each other; what can exhibit a greater instance of uniformity, amidst variety, than the constant tenour of revolutions in nearly equal times, in each planet, around its axis, and the central fire or sun, through all the ages of which we have any records, and in nearly the same orbit? Thus after certain periods, all the same appearances are again renewed; the alternate successions of light and shade, or day and night, constantly pursuing each other around each planet, with an agreeable and regular diversity in the times they possess the several hemispheres, in the summer, harvest, winter, and spring; and the various phases, aspects, and situations, of the planets to each other, their conjunctions and oppositions, in which they suddenly darken each other with their conic shades in eclipses, are repeated to us at their fixed periods with invariable constancy: these are the beauties which charm the astronomer, and make his tedious calculations pleasant. ‘Where the excitement pleasantly beguiles the hard toil.’[2]
VI. Again, as to the dry part of the surface of our globe, a great part of which is covered with a very pleasant inoffensive colour, how beautifully is it diversified with various degrees of light and shade, according to the different situations of the parts of its surface, in mountains, valleys, hills, and open plains, which are variously inclined toward the great luminary!
VII. If we descend to the minuter works of nature, what great uniformity among all the species of plants and vegetables in the manner of their growth and propagation! How near the resemblance among all the plants of the same species, whose numbers surpass our imagination! And this uniformity is not only observable in the form in gross (nay, in this it is not so very exact in all instances); but in the structure of their minutest parts, which no eye unassisted with glasses can discern. In the almost infinite multitude of leaves, fruit, seed, flowers of any one species, we often see a very great uniformity in the structure and situation of the smallest fibres. This is the beauty which charms an ingenious botanist. Nay, what great uniformity and regularity of figure is found in each particular plant, leaf, or flower! In all trees and most of the smaller plants, the stalks or trunks are either cylinders nearly, or regular prisms; branches similar to their several trunks, arising at nearly regular distances, when no accidents retard their natural growth: in one species the branches arise in pairs on the opposite sides; the perpendicular plain of direction of the immediately superior pair, interfering the plain of direction of the inferior, nearly at right angles: in another species, the branches spring singly, and alternately, all around in nearly equal distances: and the branches in other species sprout all in knots around the trunk, one for each year. And in each species, all the branches in the first shoots preserve the same angles with their trunk; and they again sprout out into smaller branches exactly after the manner of their trunks. Nor ought we to pass over that great unity of colours which we often see in all the flowers of the same plant or tree, and often of a whole species; and their exact agreement in many shaded transitions into opposite colours, in which all the flowers of the same plant generally agree, nay, often all the flowers of a species.
VIII. Again, as to the beauty of animals, either in their inward structure, which we come to the knowledge of by experiment and long observation, or their outward form, we shall find surprising uniformity among all the species which are known to us, in the structure of those parts, upon which life depends more immediately. And how amazing is the unity of mechanism, when we shall find an almost infinite diversity of motions, all their actions in walking, running, flying, swimming; their serious efforts for self-preservation, all their freakish contortions when they are gay and sportful, in all their various limbs, performed by one simple contrivance of a contracting muscle, applied with inconceivable diversities to answer all these ends! Various engines might have obtained the same ends; but then there had been less uniformity, and the beauty of our animal systems, and of particular animals, had been much less, when this surprising unity of mechanism had been removed from them.
IX. Among animals of the same species, the unity is very obvious, and this resemblance is the very ground of our ranking them in such classes or species, notwithstanding the great diversities in bulk, colour, shape, which are observed even in those called of the same species. And then in each individual, how universal is that beauty which arises from the exact resemblance of all the external double members to each other, which seems the universal intention of nature, when no accident prevents it! We see the want of this resemblance never fails to pass for an imperfection, and want of beauty, though no other inconvenience ensues; as when the eyes are not exactly like, or one arm or leg is a little shorter or smaller than its fellow.
As to that more powerful beauty in countenances, airs, gestures, motion, we shall show in the second treatise, that it arises from some imagined indication of morally good dispositions of mind [see T2.VI.iii, not included here]. In motion there is also a natural beauty, when at fixed periods like gestures and steps are regularly repeated, suiting the time and air of music, which is observed in regular dancing.
X. There is a farther beauty in animals, arising from a certain proportion of the various parts to each other, which still pleases the sense of spectators, though they cannot calculate it with the accuracy of a statuary. The statuary knows what proportion of each part of the face to the whole face is most agreeable, and can tell us the same of the proportion of the face to the body, or any parts of it; and between the diameters and lengths of each limb: when this proportion of the head to the body is remarkably altered, we shall have a giant or a dwarf. And hence it is, that either the one or the other may be represented to us even in miniature, without relation to any external object, by observing how the body surpasses the proportion it should have to the head in giants, and falls below it in dwarfs. There is a farther beauty arising from that figure, which is a natural indication of strength; but this may be passed over, because probably it may be alleged, that our approbation of this shape flows from an opinion of advantage, and not from the form itself.
The beauty arising from mechanism, apparently adapted to the necessities and advantages of any animal; which pleases us, even though there be no advantage to ourselves ensuing from it; will be considered under the head of relative beauty, or design [see T1.IV.vii, not included here]...
XIII. Under original beauty we may include harmony, or beauty of sound, if that expression can be allowed, because harmony is not usually conceived as an imitation of anything else. Harmony often raises pleasure in those who know not what is the occasion of it: and yet the foundation of this pleasure is known to be a sort of uniformity. When the several vibrations of one note regularly coincide with the vibrations of another, they make an agreeable composition; and such notes are called concords. Thus the vibrations of any one note coincide in time with two vibrations of its octave, and two vibrations of any note coincide with three of its fifth; and so on in the rest of the concords. Now no composition can be harmonious, in which the notes are not, for the most part, disposed according to these natural proportions. Besides which, a due regard must be had to the key, which governs the whole, and to the time and humour, in which the composition is begun: a frequent and inartificial change of any of which will produce the greatest, and most unnatural discord. This will appear, by observing the dissonance which would arise from tacking parts of different tunes together as one, although both were separately agreeable. A like uniformity is also observable among the bases, tenors, trebles of the same tune.
There is indeed observable, in the best compositions, a mysterious effect of discords: they often give as great pleasure as continued harmony; whether by refreshing the ear with variety, or by awakening the attention, and enlivening the relish for the succeeding harmony of concords, as shades enliven and beautify pictures, or by some other means not yet known: certain it is, however, that they have their place, and some good effect in our best compositions. Some other powers of music may be considered hereafter [see T1.VI.xii].
XIV. But in all these instances of... beauty let it be observed, that the pleasure is communicated to those who never reflected on this general foundation; and that all here alleged is this, ‘that the pleasant sensation arises only from objects, in which there is uniformity amidst variety’: we may have the sensation without knowing what is the occasion of it; as a man’s taste may suggest ideas of sweets, acids, bitters, though he be ignorant of the forms of the small bodies, or their motions, which excite these perceptions in him.
Sect. III. Of the beauty of theorems
I. The beauty of theorems, or universal truths demonstrated, deserves a distinct consideration, being of a nature pretty different from the former kinds of beauty, and yet there is none in which we shall see such an amazing variety with uniformity: and hence arises a very great pleasure distinct from prospects of any farther advantage.
II. For in one theorem, we may find included, with the most exact agreement, an infinite multitude of particular truths nay, often a multitude of infinites: so that although the necessity of forming abstract ideas, and universal theorems, arises perhaps from the limitation of our minds, which cannot admit an infinite multitude of singular ideas or judgments at once, yet this power gives us an evidence of the largeness of the human capacity above our imagination. Thus, for instance, the 47th proposition of the first book of Euclid’s[3] elements contains an infinite multitude of truths, concerning the infinite possible sizes of right-angled triangles, as you make the area greater or less; and in each of these sizes you may find an infinite multitude of dissimilar triangles, as you vary the proportion of the base to the perpendicular; all which infinites agree in the general theorem. In algebraic, and fluxional calculations, we shall find a like variety of particular truths included in general theorems; not only in general equations applicable to all kinds of quantity, but in more particular investigations of areas and tangents: in which one manner of operation shall discover theorems applicable to many orders or species of curves, to the infinite sizes of each species, and to the infinite points of the innumerable individuals of each size.
III. That we may the better discern this agreement, or unity of an infinity of objects, in the general theorem, to be the foundation of the beauty or pleasure attending their discovery, let us compare our satisfaction in such discoveries, with the uneasy state of mind when we can only measure lines, or surfaces, by a scale, or are making experiments which we can reduce to no general canon, but are only heaping up a multitude of particular incoherent observations. Now each of these trials discovers a new truth, but with no pleasure or beauty, notwithstanding the variety, till we can discover some sort of unity, or reduce them to some general canon...
Sect. V. Concerning our reasonings about design and wisdom in the cause from the beauty or regularity of effects
I. There seems to be no necessary connection of our pleasing ideas of beauty with the uniformity or regularity of the objects, from the nature of things, antecedent to some constitution of the author of our nature, which has made such forms pleasant to us. Other minds may be so framed as to receive no pleasure from uniformity; and we actually find, that the same regular forms seem not equally to please all the animals known to us, as shall probably appear hereafter. Therefore let us make what is the most unfavourable supposition to the present argument, viz. that the constitution of our sense so as to approve uniformity, is merely arbitrary in the author of our nature; and that there are an infinity of tastes or relishes of beauty possible; so that it would be impossible to throw together fifty or a hundred pebbles, which should not make an agreeable habitation for some animal or other, and appear beautiful to it. And then it is plain, that from the perception of beauty in any one effect, we should have no reason to conclude design in the cause: for a sense might be so constituted as to be pleased with such irregularity as may be the effect of an undirected force... But then, as there are an infinity of forms possible into which any system may be reduced, an infinity of places in which animals may be situated, and an infinity of relishes or senses in these animals is supposed possible; that in the immense spaces any one animal should by chance be placed in a system agreeable to its taste, must be improbable as infinite to one at least: and much more unreasonable is it to expect from chance, that a multitude of animals agreeing in their sense of beauty should obtain agreeable places.
II. There is also the same probability, that in any one system of matter an undirected force will produce a regular form, as any one given irregular one, of the same degree of complication: but still the irregular forms into which any system may be ranged, surpass in multitude the regular, as infinite does unity; for what holds in one small system, will hold in thousand, a million, a universe, with more advantage, viz. that the irregular forms possible infinitely surpass the regular. For instance, the area of an inch square is capable of an infinity of regular forms, the equilateral triangle, the square, the pentagon, hexagon, heptagon, &c. But for each one regular form, there are an infinity of irregular, as an infinity of scalena for the one equilateral triangle, an infinity of trapezia for the one square, of irregular pentagons for the one regular, and so on: and therefore supposing any one system agitated by undesigning force, it is infinitely more probable that it will resolve itself into an irregular form, than a regular. Thus, that a system of six parts upon agitation shall not obtain the form of a regular hexagon, is at least infinite to unity; and the more complex we make the system, the greater is the hazard, from a very obvious reason.
We see this confirmed by our constant experience, that regularity never arises from any undesigned force of ours; and from this we conclude, that wherever there is any regularity in the disposition of a system capable of many other dispositions, there must have been design in the cause and the force of this evidence increases, according to the multiplicity of parts employed.
But this conclusion is too rash, unless some farther proof be introduced; and what leads us into it is this. Men, who have a sense of beauty in regularity, are led generally in all their arrangements of bodies to study some kind of regularity, and seldom ever design irregularity: hence we judge the same of other beings too, viz. that they study regularity, and presume upon intention in the cause wherever we see it, making irregularity always a presumption of want of design: whereas if other agents have different senses of beauty, or if they have no sense of it at all, irregularity may as well be designed as regularity. And then let it be observed, that in this case there is just the same reason to conclude design in the cause from any one irregular effect, as from a regular one: for since there are an infinity of other forms possible as well as this irregular one produced; and since to such a being... void of a sense of beauty, all forms are as to its own relish indifferent, and all agitated matter meeting must, make some form or other, and all forms, upon supposition that the force is applyed by an agent void of a sense of beauty, would equally prove design; it is plain that no one form proves it more than another, or can prove it at all; except from a general metaphysical consideration, that there is no proper agent without design and intention, and that every effect flows from the intention of some cause...
VI. And let it be here observed, that there are many compositions of bodies which the smallest degree of design could easily effect, which yet we would in vain expect from all the powers of chance or undesigned force, after an infinity of re-encounters; even supposing a dissolution of every form except the regular one, that the parts might be prepared for a new agitation. Thus supposing we could expect one equilateral prism of any given dimensions should be formed from undirected force, in an infinity of matter some way determined to resolve itself into bodies of a given solid content (which is all we could expect, since it is infinite to one after the solid content is obtained, that the body shall not be prismatical; and allowing it prismatical, it is infinite to one that it shall not be equilateral), and again, supposing another infinity of matter determined to resolve itself into tubes, of orifices exactly equal to the bases of the former prisms, it is again at least as the second power of finite to unity, that not one of these tubes shall be both prismatic and equiangular; and then if the tube were thus formed, so as to be exactly capable of receiving one of the prisms, and no more, it is infinite to one that they shall never meet in infinite space; and should they meet, it is infinite to one that the axes of the prism and tube shall never happen in the same strait line; and supposing they did, it is again as infinite to three, that angle shall not meet angle, so as to enter. We see then how infinitely improbable it is, ‘that all the powers of chance in infinite matter, agitated through infinite ages, could ever effect this small composition of a prism entering a prismatic bore; and, that all our hazard for it would at most be but as three is to the third power of infinite.’ And yet the smallest design could easily [affect] it.
VII. May we not then justly count it altogether absurd, and next to an absolute strict impossibility, ‘that all the powers of undirected force should ever effect such a complex machine as the most imperfect plant, or the meanest animal, even in one instance?’ For the improbability just increases, as the complication of mechanism in these natural bodies surpasses that simple combination above-mentioned.
VIII. Let it be here observed, ‘that the preceding reasoning from the frequency of regular bodies of one form in the universe, and from the combinations of various bodies, is entirely independent on any perception of beauty and would equally prove design in the cause, although there were no being which perceived beauty in any form whatsoever’: for it is in short this, ‘that the recurring of any effect oftener than the laws of hazard determine, gives presumption of design; and, that combinations which no undesigned force could give us reason to expect, must necessarily prove the same; and that with superior probability, as the multitude of cases in which the contrary might happen, surpass all the cases in which this could happen’: which appears to be in the simplest cases at least as infinite does to unity. And the frequency of similar irregular forms, or exact combinations of them, is, an equal argument of design in the cause, since the similarity, or exact combinations of irregular forms, are as little to be expected from all the powers of undirected force, as any sort whatsoever...
X. The combinations of regular forms, or of irregular ones exactly adapted to each other, require such vast powers of infinite to effect them, and the hazards of the contrary forms are so infinitely numerous, that all probability or possibility of their being accomplished by chance seems quite to vanish. Let us apply the cases in art. vi in this section about the prism and tube, to our simplest machines, such as a pair of wheels of our ordinary carriages; each circular, spokes equal in length, thickness, shape; the wheels set parallel, the axle-tree fixed in the nave of both, and secured from coming out at either end: now the cases in which the contrary might have happened from undirected concourses, were there no more required than what is just now mentioned, must amount in multitude to a power of infinites equal to every circumstance required. What shall we say then of a plant, a tree, an animal, a man, with such multitudes of adapted vessels, such articulations, insertions of muscles, diffusion of veins, arteries, nerves? The improbability that such machines arising daily in such numbers in all parts of the earth with such similarity of structure, should be the effect of chance, is beyond all conception or expression.
XI. Further, were all the former reasoning from similarity of forms and combinations groundless, and could chance give us ground to expect such forms, with exact combination, yet we could only promise ourselves one of these forms among an infinity of others. When we see then such a multitude of individuals of a species, similar to each other in a great number of parts; and when we see in each individual, the corresponding members so exactly like each other, what possible room is there left for questioning design in the universe? None but the barest possibility against an inconceivably great probability, surpassing everything which is not strict demonstration...
XVIII. Hitherto the proof amounts only to design or intention, barely, in opposition to blind force or chance; and we see the proof of this is independent on the arbitrary constitution of our internal sense of beauty. Beauty is often supposed an argument of more than design, to wit, wisdom and prudence in the cause. Let us inquire also into this.
Wisdom denotes the pursuing of the best ends by the best means; and therefore, before we can from any effect prove the cause to be wise, we must know what is best to the cause or agent. Among men who have pleasure in contemplating uniformity the beauty of effects is an argument of wisdom, because this is good to them; but the same argument would not hold as to a being void of this sense of beauty. And therefore the beauty apparent to us in nature, will not of itself prove wisdom in the cause, unless this cause or author of nature be supposed benevolent; and then indeed the happiness of mankind is desirable or good to the supreme cause; and that form which pleases us, is an argument of his wisdom. And the strength of this argument is increased always in proportion to the degree of beauty produced in nature, and exposed to the view of any rational agents; since upon supposition of a benevolent deity, all the apparent beauty produced is an evidence of the execution of a benevolent design to give them the pleasures of beauty.
But what more immediately proves wisdom is this; when we see any machine with a great complication of parts actually obtaining an end, we justly conclude, ‘that since this could not have been the effect of chance, it must have been intended for that end, which is obtained by it’; and then the ends or intentions being in part known, the complication of organs, and their nice disposition adapted to this end, is an evidence ‘of a comprehensive large understanding in the cause, according to the multiplicity of parts, and the appositeness of their structure, even when we do not know the intention of the whole.’
XIX. There is another kind of beauty from which we conclude wisdom in the cause, as well as design, when we see many useful or beautiful effects owing from one general cause. There is a very good reason for this conclusion among men. Interest must lead beings of limited powers, who are incapable of a great diversity of operations, and distracted by them, to choose this frugal economy of their forces, and to look upon such management as an evidence of wisdom in other beings like themselves. Nor is this speculative reason all which influences them; for even beside this consideration of interest, they are determined by a sense of beauty, where that reason does not hold; as when we are judging of the productions of other agents about whose economy we are not solicitous. Thus, who does not approve of it as a perfection in clock-work, that three or four motions of the hour, minute, and second hands, and monthly plate, should arise from one spring or weight, rather than from three or four springs or weights, in a very compound machine, which should perform the same effects, and answer all the same purposes with equal exactness? Now the foundation of this beauty plainly appears to be a uniformity, or unity of cause amidst diversity of effects.
XX. We shall hereafter [see T1.VII] offer some reasons, why the author of nature may choose to operate in this manner by general laws and universal extensive causes, although the reason just now mentioned does not hold with an almighty being. This is certain, that we have some of the most delightful instances of universal causes in the works of nature, and that the most studious men in these subjects are so delighted with the observation of them, that they always look upon them as evidences of wisdom in the administration of nature, from a sense of beauty.
XXI. The wonderfully simple mechanism which performs all animal motions, was mentioned already [see T1.II.viii]; nor is that of the inanimate parts of nature, less admirable. How innumerable are the effects of that one principle of heat, derived to us from the sun, which is not only delightful to our sight and feeling, and the means of discerning objects, but is the cause of rains, springs, rivers, winds, and the universal cause of vegetation! The uniform principle of gravity preserves at once the planets in their orbits, gives cohesion to the parts of each globe, and stability to mountains, hills, and artificial structures; it raises the sea in tides, and sinks them again, and restrains them in their channels; it drains the earth of its superfluous moisture, by rivers; it raises the vapours by its influence on the air, and brings them down again in rains; it gives a uniform pressure to our atmosphere, necessary to our bodies in general, and more especially to inspiration in breathing; and furnishes us with a universal movement, capable of being applied in innumerable engines. How incomparably more beautiful is this structure, than if we supposed so many distinct volitions in the deity, producing every particular effect, and preventing some of the accidental evils which casually flow from the general law! We may rashly imagine that this latter manner of operation might have been more useful to us and it would have been no distraction to omnipotence: but then the great beauty had been lost, and there had been no more pleasure in the contemplation of this scene, which is now so delightful. One would rather choose to run the hazard of its casual evils, than part with that harmonious form, which has been an unexhausted source of delight to the successive spectators in all ages.
XXII. Hence we see, ‘that however miracles may prove the superintendency of a voluntary agent, and that the universe is not guided by necessity or fate, yet that mind must be weak and inadvertent, which needs them to confirm the belief of a wise and good deity; since the deviation from general laws, unless upon very extraordinary occasions, must be a presumption of inconstancy and weakness, rather than of steady wisdom and power, and must weaken the best arguments we can have for the sagacity and power of the universal mind.’
Sect. VI. Of the universality of the sense of beauty among men
...IV. But as to the universal agreement of mankind in their sense of beauty from uniformity amidst variety, we must consult experience: and as we allow all men reason, since all men are capable of understanding simple arguments, though few are capable of complex demonstrations; so in this case it must be sufficient to prove this sense of beauty universal, ‘if all men are better pleased with uniformity in the simpler instances than the contrary, even when there is no advantage observed attending it; and likewise if all men, according as their capacity enlarges, so as to receive and compare more complex ideas, have a greater delight in uniformity, and are pleased with its more complex kinds, both original and relative.’
Now let us consider if ever any person was void of this sense in the ampler instances. Few trials have been made in the simplest instances of harmony, because, as soon as we find an ear incapable of relishing complex compositions, such as our tunes are, no farther pains are employed about such. But in figures, did ever any man make choice of a trapezium, or any irregular curve, for the ichnography or plan of his house, without necessity, or some great motive of convenience? Or to make the opposite walls not parallel, or unequal in height? Were ever trapeziums, irregular polygons or curves chosen for the forms of doors or windows, though these figures might have answered the uses as well, and would have often saved a great part of the time, labour and expense to workmen, which is now employed in suiting the stones and timber to the regular forms? Among all the fantastic modes of dress, none was ever quite void of uniformity, if it were only in the resemblance of the two sides of the same robe, and in some general aptitude to the human form. The pictish painting had always relative beauty, by resemblance to other objects, and often those objects were originally beautiful; however justly we might here apply Horace’s censure of impertinent poetry, ‘For such things, there is a place, but not just now.’[4] But never, were any so extravagant as to affect such figures as are made by the casual spilling of liquid colours. Who was ever pleased with an inequality of heights in windows of the same range, or dissimilar shapes of them? With unequal legs or arms, eyes or cheeks in a mistress? It must however be acknowledged, ‘that interest may often counterbalance our, sense of beauty, in this affair as well as in others, and superior good qualities may make us overlook such imperfections.’
V. Nay farther, it may perhaps appear, ‘that regularity and uniformity are so copiously diffused through the universe, and we are so readily determined to pursue this as the foundation of beauty in works of art, that there is scarcely anything ever fancied as beautiful, where there is not really something of this uniformity and regularity.’ We are indeed often mistaken in imagining that there is the greatest possible beauty, where it is but very imperfect; but still it is some degree of beauty which pleases, although there may be higher degrees which we do not observe; and our sense acts with full regularity when we are pleased, although we are kept by a false prejudice from pursuing objects which would please us more.
A Goth, for instance, is mistaken, when from education he imagines the architecture of his country to be the most perfect: and a conjunction of some hostile ideas, may make him have an aversion to Roman buildings, and study to demolish them, as some of our reformers did the popish buildings, not being able to separate the ideas of the superstitious worship from the forms of the buildings where it was practiced: and yet it is still real beauty which pleases the Goth, founded upon uniformity amidst variety. For the Gothic pillars are uniform to each other, not only in their sections, which are lozenge-formed but also in their heights and ornaments: their arches are not one uniform curve, but yet they are segments of similar curves, and generally equal in the same ranges. The very Indian buildings have some kind of uniformity, and many of the eastern nations, though they differ much from us, yet have great regularity in [their] manner, as well as the Romans in [theirs]. Our Indian screens, which wonderfully supply our imaginations with ideas of deformity, in which nature is very churlish and sparing, do want indeed all the beauty arising from proportion of parts, and conformity to nature; and yet they cannot divert themselves of all beauty and uniformity in the separate parts: and this diversifying the human body into various contortions, may give some wild pleasure from variety, since some uniformity to the human shape is still retained. The faint light in Gothic buildings has had the same association of a very foreign idea, which our poet shows in his epithet, ‘A dim religious light.’[5]
VII. What has been said will probably be assented to, if we always remember in our inquiries into the universality of the sense of beauty, ‘that there may be real beauty, where there is not the greatest; and that there are an infinity of different forms which may all have some unity, and yet differ from each other.’ So that men may have different fancies of beauty, and yet uniformity be the universal foundation of our approbation of any form whatsoever as beautiful. And we shall find that it is so in the architecture, gardening, dress, equipage, and furniture of houses, even among the most uncultivated nations; where uniformity still pleases, without any other advantage than the pleasure of the contemplation of it.
VIII. It will deserve our consideration on this subject, how, in like cases, we form very different judgments concerning the internal and external senses. Nothing is more ordinary among those, who after Mr. Locke have rejected innate ideas,[6] than to allege, ‘that all our relish for beauty and order, is either from prospect of advantage, custom, or education,’ for no other reason but the variety of fancies in the world: and from this they conclude, ‘that our fancies do not arise from any natural power of perception, or sense.’ And yet all allow our external senses to be natural, and that the pleasures or pains of their sensations, however they may be increased or diminished by custom or education, and counterbalanced by interest, yet are really antecedent to custom, habit, education, or prospect of interest. Now it is certain, ‘that there is at least as great a variety of fancies about their objects, as the objects of beauty’: nay, it is much more difficult, and perhaps impossible, to bring the fancies or relishes of the external senses to any general foundation at all, or to find any rule for the agreeable or disagreeable: and yet we all allow, ‘that these are natural powers of perception.’
IX. The reason of this different judgment can be no other than this, that we have got distinct names for the external senses, and none, or very few, for the internal; and by this are led, as in many other cases, to look upon the former as some way more fixed, and real, and natural, than the latter. The sense of harmony has got its name, viz. a good ear; and we are generally brought to acknowledge this a natural power of perception, or a sense some way distinct from hearing: now it is certain, ‘that there is as necessary a perception of beauty upon the presence of regular objects, as of harmony upon hearing certain sounds.’
X. But let it be observed here once for all, ‘that an internal sense no more presupposes an innate idea, or principle of knowledge, than the external.’ Both are natural powers of perception, or determinations of the mind to receive necessarily certain ideas from the presence of objects. The internal sense is a passive power of receiving ideas of beauty from all objects in which there is uniformity amidst variety. Nor does there seem anything more difficult in this matter, than that the mind should be always determined to receive the idea of sweet, when particles of such a form enter the pores of the tongue; or to have the idea of sound upon any quick undulation of the air. The one seems to have as little connection with its idea, as the other: and the same power could with equal ease constitute the former the occasion of ideas, as the latter.
XI. The association of ideas above hinted at [see T1.VI.v; also see T1.VI.iii, not included here], is one great cause of the apparent diversity of fancies in the sense of beauty, as well as in the external senses; and often makes men have an aversion to objects of beauty, and a liking to others void of it, but under different conceptions than those of beauty or deformity. And here it may not be improper to give some instances of some of these affectations. The beauty of trees, their cool shades, and their aptness to conceal from observation, have made groves and woods the usual retreat to those who love solitude, especially to the religious, the pensive, the melancholy, and the amorous. And do not we find that we have so joined the ideas of these dispositions of mind with those external objects, that they always recur to us along with them? The cunning of the heathen priests might make such obscure places the scene of the fictitious appearances of their deities; and hence we join ideas of something divine to them. We know the like effect in the ideas of our churches, from the perpetual use of them only in religious exercises...
In like manner it is known, that often all the circumstances of actions, or places, or dresses of persons, or voice, or song, which have occurred at any time together, when we were strongly affected by any passion, will be so connected that any one of these will make all the rest recur. And this is often the occasion both of great pleasure and pain, delight and aversion to many objects, which of themselves might have been perfectly indifferent to us: but these approbations, or distastes, are remote from the ideas of beauty, being plainly different ideas.
XII. There is also another charm in music to various persons, which is distinct differently, from the harmony, and is occasioned by its raising agreeable passions. The human voice is obviously varied by all the stronger passions; now, when our ear discerns any resemblance between the air of a tune, whether sang or played upon an instrument, either in its time, or modulation, or any other circumstance, to the sound of the human voice, in any passion, we shall be touched by it in a very sensible manner, and have melancholy, joy, gravity, thoughtfulness, excited in us by a sort of sympathy or contagion. The same connection is observable between the very air of a tune, and the words expressing any passion which we have heard it fitted to, so that they shall both recur to us together, though but one of them affects our senses.
Now in such a diversity of pleasing or displeasing ideas, which may be joined with forms of bodies, or tunes, when men are of such different dispositions, and prone to such a variety of passions, it is no wonder, ‘that they should often disagree in their fancies of objects, even although their sense of beauty and harmony were perfectly uniform’; because many other ideas may either please or displease, according to persons tempers, and past circumstances. We know how agreeable a very wild country may be to any person who has spent the cheerful days of his youth in it, and how disagreeable very beautiful places may be, if they were the scenes of his misery. And this may help us in many cases to account for the diversities of fancy, without denying the uniformity of our internal sense of beauty.
XIII. Grandeur and novelty are two ideas different from beauty, which often recommend objects to us. The reason of this is foreign to the present subject...[7]
Sect. VII. Of the power of custom, education, and example, as to our internal senses
I. Custom, education, and example are so often alleged in this affair, as the occasion of our relish for beautiful objects, and for our approbation of, or delight in, a certain conduct in life in a moral species, that it is necessary to examine these three particularly, to make it appear, ‘that there is a natural power of perception, or sense of beauty in objects, antecedent to all custom, education, or example.’
II. ...As to our approbation of, or delight in external objects; when the blood or spirits, of which anatomists talk, are roused, quickened, or fermented as they call it, in any agreeable manner, by medicine or nutriment; or any glands frequently stimulated to secretion; it is certain, that to preserve the body easy, we shall delight in objects of taste, which of themselves are not immediately pleasant to it, if they promote that agreeable state, which the body had been accustomed to. Farther, custom will so alter the state of the body, that what at first raised uneasy sensations, will cease to do so, or perhaps raise another agreeable idea of the same sense; but custom can never give us any idea of a sense different from those we had antecedent to it: it will never make the blind approve objects as coloured, or those who have no taste approve meats as delicious, however they might approve them as strengthening or exhilarating. Were our glands and the parts about them, void of feeling, did we perceive no pleasure from certain brisker motions in the blood, custom could never make simulating or intoxicating fluids or medicines agreeable, when they were not so to the taste: so, by like reasoning, had we no natural sense of beauty from uniformity, custom could never have made us imagine any beauty in objects; if we had had no ear, custom could never have given us the pleasures of harmony. When we have these natural senses antecedently, custom may make us capable of extending our views farther, and of receiving more complex ideas of beauty in bodies, or harmony in sounds, by increasing our attention, and quickness of perception. But however custom may increase our power of receiving or comparing complex ideas, yet it seems rather to weaken than strengthen the ideas of beauty, or the impressions of pleasure from regular objects; else how is it possible that any person could go into the open air on a sunny day, or clear evening, without the most extravagant raptures, such as Milton represents our ancestor in, upon his first creation?[8] For such any person would certainly fall into, upon the first representation of such a scene.
Custom in like manner may make it easier for any person to discern the use of a complex machine, and approve it as advantageous; but he would never have imagined it beautiful, had he no natural sense of beauty. Custom may make us quicker in apprehending the truth of complex theorems, but we all find the pleasure or beauty of theorems as strong at first as ever. Custom makes us more capable of retaining and comparing complex ideas, so as to discern more complicated uniformity, which escapes the observation of novices in any art; but all this presupposes a natural sense of beauty in uniformity: for, had there been nothing in forms, which was constituted the necessary occasion of pleasure to our senses, no repetition of indifferent ideas as to pleasure or pain, beauty or deformity, could ever have made them grow pleasing or displeasing.
III. The effect of education is this, that thereby we receive many speculative opinions, which are sometimes true, and sometimes false; and are often led to believe, that objects may be naturally apt to give pleasure or pain to our external senses, which in reality have no such qualities. And farther, by education there are some strong associations of ideas without any reason, by mere accident sometimes, as well as by design, which it is very hard for us ever after to break asunder. Thus aversions are raised to darkness, and to many kinds of meat, and to certain innocent actions: approbations without ground are raised in like manner. But in all these instances, education never makes us apprehend any qualities in objects, which we have not naturally senses capable of perceiving...
Thus education and custom may influence our internal senses, where they are antecedently, by enlarging the capacity of our minds to retain and compare the parts of complex compositions: and then, if the finest objects are presented to us, we grow conscious of a pleasure far superior to what common performances excite. But all this presupposes our sense of beauty to be natural. Instruction in anatomy, observation of nature, and of those airs of the countenance, and attitudes of body, which accompany any sentiment, action, or passion, may enable us to know where there is a just imitation: but why should an exact imitation please upon observation, if we had not naturally a sense of beauty in it, more than the observing the situation of fifty or a hundred pebbles thrown at random? And should we observe them ever so often, we should never dream of their growing beautiful.
IV. There is something worth our observation as to the manner of rooting out the prejudices of education, not quite foreign to the present purpose. When the prejudice arises from affectations of ideas without any natural connection, we must frequently force ourselves to bear representations of those objects, or the use of them when separated from the disagreeable idea; and this may at last disjoin the unreasonable association, especially if we can join new agreeable ideas to them: thus, opinions of superstition are best removed by pleasant conversation of persons we esteem for their virtue, or by observing that they despise such opinions. But when the prejudice arises from an apprehension or opinion of natural evil, as the attendant, or consequent of any object or action; if the evil be apprehended to be the constant and immediate attendant, a few trials, without receiving any damage, will remove the prejudice, as in that against meats: but where the evil is not represented as the perpetual concomitant, but as what may possibly or probably at some time or other accompany the use of the object, there must be frequent reasoning with ourselves, or a long series of trials without any detriment, to remove the prejudice; such is the case of our fear of spirits in the dark, and in church-yards. And when the evil is represented as the consequence perhaps a long time after, or in a future state, it is then hardest of all to remove the prejudice; and this is only to be effected by slow processes of reason, because in this case there can be no trials made: and this is the case of superstitious prejudices against actions apprehended as offensive to the deity; and hence it is that they are so hard to be rooted out.
V. Example seems to operate in this manner. We are conscious that we act very much for pleasure, or private good and are thereby led to imagine that others do so too: hence we conclude there must be some perfection in the objects which we see others pursue, and evil in those which we observe them constantly shunning. Or, the example of others may serve to us as so many trials to remove the apprehension of evil in objects to which we had an aversion. But all this is done upon an apprehension of qualities perceivable by the senses which we have; for no example will induce the blind or deaf to pursue objects as coloured or sonorous; nor could example any more engage us to pursue objects as beautiful or harmonious, had we no natural sense of beauty or harmony.
Example may make us conclude without examination, that our countrymen have obtained the perfection of beauty in their works, or that there is less beauty in the orders of architecture or painting, used in other nations, and so content ourselves with very imperfect forms. And fear of contempt as void of taste or genius, often makes us join in approving the performances of the reputed masters in our country, and restrains those who have naturally a fine genius, or the internal senses very acute, from studying to obtain the greatest perfection; it makes also those of a bad taste pretend to a livelier perception of beauty than in reality they have: but all this presupposes some natural power of receiving ideas of beauty and harmony. Nor can example affect anything farther, unless it be to lead men to pursue objects by implicit faith, for some perfection which the pursuer is conscious he does not know, or which perhaps is some very different quality from the idea perceived by those of a good taste in such affairs.
Sect. VIII. Of the importance of the internal senses in life, and the final causes of them
I. The busy part of mankind may look upon these things as airy dreams of an inflamed imagination, which a wise man should despise, who rationally pursues more solid possessions independent on fancy: but a little reflection will convince us, ‘that the gratifications of our internal senses are as natural, real, and satisfying enjoyments as any sensible pleasure whatsoever; and that they are the chief ends for which we commonly pursue wealth and power.’ For how is wealth or power advantageous? How do they make us happy, or prove good to us? No otherwise than as they supply gratifications to our senses, or faculties of perceiving pleasure. Now, are these senses or faculties only the external ones? No: everybody sees, that a small portion of wealth or power will supply more pleasures of the external senses than we can enjoy; we know that scarcity often heightens these perceptions more than abundance, which cloys that appetite which is necessary to all pleasure in enjoyment: and hence the poet’s advice is perfectly just; ‘So earn your sauce with hard exercise.’[9] In short, the only use of a great fortune above a very small one (except in good offices, and moral pleasures) must be to supply us with the pleasures of beauty, order, and harmony.
It is true indeed, that the noblest pleasures of the internal senses, in the contemplation of the works of nature, are exposed to everyone without expense; the poor and the low, may have as free use of these objects, in this way, as the wealthy or powerful. And even in objects which may be appropriated, the property is of little consequence to the enjoyment of their beauty, which is often enjoyed by others beside the proprietor. But then there are other objects of these internal senses, which require wealth or power to procure the use of them as frequently as we desire; as appears in architecture, music, gardening, painting, dress, equipage, furniture; of which we cannot have the full enjoyment without property. And there are some confused imaginations, which often lead us to pursue property, even in objects where it is not necessary to the true enjoyment of them. These are the ultimate motives of our pursuing the greater degrees of wealth, where there are no generous intentions of virtuous actions.
This is confirmed by the constant practice of the very enemies to these senses. As soon as they think they are got above the world, or extricated from the hurries of avarice and ambition; banished nature will return upon them, and set them upon pursuits of beauty and order in their houses, gardens, dress, table, equipage. They are never easy without some degree of this; and were their hearts open to our view, we should see regularity, decency, beauty, as what their wishes terminate upon, either to themselves or to their posterity; and what their imagination is always presenting to them as the possible effects of their labours. Nor without this could they ever justify their pursuits to themselves.
There may perhaps be some instances of human nature perverted into a thorough miser, who loves nothing but money, and whose fancy arises no higher than the cold dull thought of possession; but such an instance in an age, must not be made the standard of mankind against the whole body.
If we examine the pursuits of the luxurious, who is imagined wholly devoted to his belly; we shall generally find that the far greater part of his expense is employed to procure other sensations than those of taste; such as fine attendants, regular apartments, services of plate, and the like. Besides, a large share of the preparation must be supposed designed for some sort of generous friendly purposes, to please acquaintance, strangers, parasites. How few would be contented to enjoy the same sensations alone, in a cottage, or out of earthen pitchers? To conclude this point, however these internal sensations may be overlooked in our philosophical inquiries about the human faculties, we shall find in fact, ‘that they employ us more, and are more efficacious in life, either to our pleasure or uneasiness, than all our external senses taken together.’
II. As to the final causes of this internal sense, we need not inquire, ‘whether, to an almighty, and all-knowing being, there be any real excellence in regular forms, in acting by general laws, in knowing by theorems?’ We seem scarce capable of answering such questions any way; nor need we inquire, ‘whether other animals may not discern uniformity and regularity in objects which escape our observations, and may not perhaps have their senses constituted so as to perceive beauty from the same foundation which we do, in objects which our senses are not fit to examine or compare?’ We shall confine ourselves to a subject where we have some certain foundation to go upon, and only inquire, ‘if we can find any reasons worthy of the great author of nature, for making such a connection between regular objects, and the pleasure which accompanies our perceptions of them; or, what reasons might possibly influence him to create the world, as it at present is, as far as we can observe, every-where full of regularity and uniformity?’
Let it be here observed, that as far as we know concerning any of the great bodies of the universe, we see forms and motions really beautiful to our senses; and if we were placed in any planet, the apparent courses would still be regular and uniform, and consequently beautiful to us. Now this gives us no small ground to imagine, that if the senses of their inhabitants are in the same manner adapted to their habitations, and the objects occurring to their view, as ours are here, their senses must be upon the same general foundation with ours.
But to return to the questions: what occurs to resolve them, may be contained in the following propositions.
1. The manner of knowledge by universal theorems, and of operation by universal causes, as far as we can attain it, must be most convenient for beings of limited understanding and power; since this prevents distraction in their understandings through the multiplicity of propositions, and toil and weariness to their powers of action; and consequently their reason, without any sense of beauty, must approve of such methods when they reflect upon their apparent advantage.
2. Those objects of contemplation in which there is uniformity amidst variety, are more distinctly and easily comprehended and retained, than irregular objects; because the accurate observation of one or two parts often leads to the knowledge of the whole: thus we can from a pillar or two, with an intermediate arch, and cornice, form a distinct idea of a whole regular building, if we know of what species it is, and have its length and breadth: from a side and solid angle, we have the whole regular solid; the measuring one side, gives the whole square; one radius, the whole circle; two diameters, an oval; one ordinate and abscissa, the parabola; thus also other figures, if they have any regularity, are in every point determined from a few data: whereas it must be a long attention to a vast multiplicity of parts, which can ascertain or fix the idea of any irregular form, or give any distinct idea of it, or make us capable of retaining it; as appears in the forms of rude rocks, and pebbles, and confused heaps, even when the multitude of sensible parts is not so great as in the regular forms: for such irregular objects distract the mind with variety, since for every sensible part we must have a quite different idea.
3. From these two propositions it follows, ‘that beings of limited understanding and power, if they act rationally for their own interest, must choose to operate by the simplest means, to invent general theorems, and to study regular objects, if they be as useful as irregular ones; that they may avoid the endless toil of producing each effect by a separate operation, of searching out each different truth by a different inquiry, and of imprinting the endless variety of dissimilar ideas in irregular objects.’
4. But then, beside this consideration of interest, there does not appear to be any necessary connection, antecedent to the constitution of the author of nature, between regular forms, actions, theorems, and that sudden sensible pleasure excited in us upon observation of them, even when we do not reflect upon the advantage mentioned in the former proposition. And possibly, the deity could have formed us so as to have received no immediate pleasure from such object, or connected pleasure to those of a quite contrary nature. We have a tolerable presumption of this in the beauties of various animals; they give some small pleasure indeed to everyone who views them; but then everyone seems far more delighted with the peculiar beauties of its own species, than with those of a different one, which seldom raise any desire. This makes it probable, that the pleasure is not the necessary result of the form itself, otherwise it would equally affect all apprehensions in what species soever; but depends upon a voluntary constitution, adapted to preserve the regularity of the universe, and is probably not the effect of necessity, but choice, in the supreme agent, who constituted our senses.
5. Now from the whole we may conclude ‘that supposing the deity so kind as to connect sensible pleasure with certain actions or contemplations, beside the rational advantage perceivable in them; there is a great moral necessity, from his goodness, that the internal sense of men should be constituted as it is at present, so as to make uniformity amidst variety the occasion of pleasure.’ For were it not so, but on the contrary, if irregular objects, particular truths and operations pleased us, beside the endless toil this would involve us in, there must arise a perpetual dissatisfaction in all rational agents with themselves; since reason and interest would lead us to simple general causes, while a contrary sense of beauty would make us disapprove them: universal theorems would appear to our understanding the best means of increasing our knowledge of what might be useful; while a contrary sense would set us on the search after particular truths: thought and reflection would recommend objects with uniformity amidst variety, and yet this perverse instinct would involve us in labyrinths of confusion and dissimilitude. And hence we see ‘how suitable it is to the sagacious bounty which we suppose in the deity, to constitute our internal senses in the manner in which they are; by which pleasure is joined to the contemplation those objects which a finite mind can best imprint and retain the ideas of with the least distraction; to those actions which are most efficacious, and fruitful in useful effects; and to those theorems which most enlarge our minds.’
III. As to the other question, ‘what reason might influence the deity, whom no diversity of operation could distract or weary, to choose to operate by simplest means, and general laws, and to diffuse uniformity, proportion, and similitude through all the parts of nature which we can observe?’ Perhaps there may be some real excellence in this manner of operation, and in these forms, which we know not: but this we may probably say, that since the divine goodness, for the reasons above-mentioned, has constituted our sense of beauty as it is at present, the same goodness might have determined the great architect to adorn this stupendous theatre in a manner agreeable to the spectators, and that part which is exposed to the observation of men, so as to be pleasant to them; especially if we suppose, that he designed to discover himself to them as wise and good, as well as powerful: for thus he has given them greater evidences, through the whole earth, of his art, wisdom, design, and bounty, than they can possibly have for the reason, counsel, and good-will of their fellow-creatures, with whom they converse, with full persuasion of these qualities in them, about their common affairs.
As to the operations of the deity by general laws, there is still a farther reason from a sense superior to these already considered, even that of virtue, or the beauty of action, which is the foundation of our greatest happiness. For were there no general laws fixed in the course of nature, there could be no prudence or design in men, no rational expectation of effects from causes, no schemes of action projected, or any regular execution. If then, according to the frame of our nature, our greatest happiness must depend upon our actions, as it may perhaps be made appear it does, ‘the universe must be governed, not by particular wills, but by general laws, upon which we can found our expectations, and project our schemes of action.’ Nay farther, though general laws did ordinarily obtain, yet if the deity usually stopped their effects whenever it was necessary to prevent any particular evils; this would effectually, and justly supersede all human prudence and care about actions; since a superior mind did thus relieve men from their charge.
1 [John Locke (1632-1704), philosopher. For an explanation of his distinction between primary and secondary qualities, see page 8 of the editor’s introduction and T1.I.xvi, this section.]
2 [From Horace (65-27 B.C.E.), Roman poet. Book II of Satires, Satire II, line 12. Translation from H.R. Fairclough’s Satires, Epistles, and Ars Poetica (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1970).]
3 [Euclid, ancient Greek mathematician who lived around 300 B.C.E.]
4 [Hutcheson partially quotes line 19 of the Art of Poetry. Translation of full line from Fairclough.]
5 [Line 159 of John Milton’s (1608-1674) poem, Il Penseroso.]
6 [According to the doctrine of innate ideas, the human mind enters the world with some knowledge already built into it. Locke attacks this doctrine in the first book of An Essay Concerning Human Understanding.]
7 [Hutcheson directs us here to the writer Joseph Addison’s (1672-1719) essay number 412 in the Spectator, a magazine Addison co-founded in 1711.]
8 [Hutcheson cites Book 8 of Milton’s poem, Paradise Lost.]
9 [Book II of the Satires, Satire II, line 20. Fairclough’s translation.]