| Nothing flatters our vanity more than the talent of pleasing by our wit, good humour, or any other accomplishment; and nothing gives us a more sensible mortification than a disappointment in any attempt of that nature. |
| No one has ever been able to tell what wit is, and to-shew why such a system of thought must be received under that denomination, and such another rejected. |
| It is only by taste we can decide concerning it, nor are we possest of any other standard, upon which we can form a judgment of this kind. |
| Now what is this taste, from which true and false wit in a manner receive their being, and without which no thought can have a title to either of these denominations? It is plainly nothing but a sensation of pleasure from true wit, and of uneasiness from false, without oar being able to tell the reasons of that pleasure or uneasiness. |
| The power of bestowing these opposite sensations is. |
| therefore, the very essence of true and false wit; and consequently the cause of that pride or humility, which arises from them. |
| There may, perhaps, be some, who being accustomed to the style of the schools and pulpit. |
| and having never considered human nature in any other light, than that in which they place it, may here be surprized to hear me talk of virtue as exciting pride, which they look upon as a vice; and of vice as producing humility, which they have been taught to consider as a virtue. |
| But not to dispute about words, I observe, that by pride I understand that agreeable impression, which arises in the mind, when the view either of our virtue, beauty, riches or power makes us satisfyed with ourselves: and that by humility I mean the opposite impression. |
| It is evident the former impression is not always vicious, nor the latter virtuous. |
| The most rigid morality allows us to receive a pleasure from reflecting on a generous action; and it is by none esteemed a virtue to feel any fruitless remorses upon the thoughts of past villainy and baseness. |
| Let us, therefore, examine these impressions, considered in themselves; and enquire into their causes, whether placed on the mind or body, without troubling ourselves at present with that merit or blame, which may attend them. |
| SECT. VIII OF BEAUTY AND DEFORMITY |
| Whether we consider the body as a part of ourselves, or assent to those philosophers, who regard it as something external, it must still be allowed to be near enough connected with us to form one of these double relations, which I have asserted to be necessary to the causes of pride and humility. |
| Wherever, therefore, we can find the other relation of impressions to join to this of ideas, we may expect with assurance either of these passions, according as the impression is pleasant or uneasy. |
| But beauty of all kinds gives us a peculiar delight and satisfaction; as deformity produces pain, upon whatever subject it may be placed, and whether surveyed in an animate or inanimate object. |
| If the beauty or deformity, therefore, be placed upon our own bodies, this pleasure or uneasiness must be converted into pride or humility, as having in this case all the circumstances requisite to produce a perfect transition of impressions and ideas. |
| These opposite sensations are related to the opposite passions. |
| The beauty or deformity is closely related to self, the object of both these passions. |
| No wonder, then our own beauty becomes an object of pride, and deformity of humility. |
| But this effect of personal and bodily qualities is not only a proof of. |