ntly exists without them, and that this
beauty, where it exists, always can be assigned to other less equivocal
causes, it will naturally lead us to conclude that proportion and beauty
are not ideas of the same nature. The true opposite to beauty is not
disproportion or deformity, but _ugliness_: and as it proceeds from
causes opposite to those of positive beauty, we cannot consider it until
we come to treat of that. Between beauty and ugliness there is a sort of
mediocrity, in which the assigned proportions are most commonly found;
but this has no effect upon the passions.

SECTION VI.

FITNESS NOT THE CAUSE OF BEAUTY.

It is said that the idea of utility, or of a part's being well adapted
to answer its end, is the cause of beauty, or indeed beauty itself. If
it were not for this opinion, it had been impossible for the doctrine of
proportion to have held its ground very long; the world would be soon
weary of hearing of measures which related to nothing, either of a
natural principle, or of a fitness to answer some end; the idea which
mankind most commonly conceive of proportion, is the suitableness of
means to certain ends, and, where this is not the question, very seldom
trouble themselves about the effect of different measures of things.
Therefore it was necessary for this theory to insist that not only
artificial, but natural objects took their beauty from the fitness of
the parts for their several purposes. But in framing this theory, I am
apprehensive that experience was not sufficiently consulted. For, on
that principle, the wedge-like snout of a swine, with its tough
cartilage at the end, the little sunk eyes, and the whole make of the
head, so well adapted to its offices of digging and rooting, would be
extremely beautiful. The great bag hanging to the bill of a pelican, a
thing highly useful to this animal, would be likewise as beautiful in
our eyes. The hedge-hog, so well secured against all assaults by his
prickly hide, and the porcupine with his missile quills, would be then
considered as creatures of no small elegance. There are few animals
whose parts are better contrived than those of a monkey: he has the
hands of a man, joined to the springy limbs of a beast; he is admirably
calculated for running, leaping, grappling, and climbing; and yet there
are few animals which seem to have less beauty in the eyes of all
mankind. I need say little on the trunk of the elephant, of such various
usefulness, and