THE BEAUTIFUL IN ART. 



foi'esliadowed by nature herself. But the disadvantage of architecture is, that the useful 

 must, in some measure, qualify the beautiful. Painting and sculpture have beauty for 

 their essence, but architecture is a clothing, or pervading, the useful with the spirit of the 

 beautiful. It is, however, the human architect, so far as consistent Mith the different scale 

 of his enterprise, following in the footsteps of the Divine. That the primitive wood cabin 

 was its type, may well be questioned. Infancy is as much the tj'pe of manhood. Archi- 

 tecture has better types, a richer dower; it has all nature, from the human form and face, 

 to the most insignificant plant or mineral : all yield ther lesson to the architect. It draws 

 not literally, however, from them. It is not a direct, but an analogical imitation of na- 

 ture. 



But art, taken generally, is an imbodiment of an invisible archetype in the artist's mind, 

 his beau ideal ; but which he models upon nature as a basis: it is nature transfigured, 

 glorified, by its contact with humanity. Of all created beings, man, particularly as refers 

 to the manifestation of his mind and character, is the most interesting to man ; an object, 

 therefore, on which is impressed human feeling and intelligence, possesses, in consequence, 

 a greater interest than by any other extraneous circumstances it could receive. "Works of 

 real art are the works of God brought through the mind of man; and therefore doubly 

 "good," beautiful, and divine. 



Art may, in this light, be considered as a supplement which the human mind adds to 

 nature. It is a sequel to her original beauty. Like " the metamorphosis of things into 

 higher organic forms," is their change from nature into art. The mind or imagination of 

 the artist is a mirror that gives back the formal hues of nature, but heightened and refin- 

 ed: while painting and sculpture array with second life some glorious action, some heroic 

 deed of the past, architecture clothes with new vitality and beauty the forms of external 

 nature. 



The sculptured Jupiters and Minervas of the ancients, and the rest of their petrified 

 goddesses and nymphs, are therefore, as remarked under the preceding head, not copies 

 from nature, but from a vision of beauty in the mind of the artist, inspired indeed by na- 

 ture, but exalted in the mind, and possessing more of perfection than any individual. 



But whilst showing the advantage of art over nature in this respect, let us do justice to 

 the latter. The eye requires education and constant practice, even to see truly the beau- 

 ties of nature. All does not lie upon the surface. In the lowest walk of art there is scope 

 for the highest mind. The most gifted eye cannot exhaust the significance of any object, 

 and " in the commonest human face," to quote Fuseli, "there is more than Raphael will 

 take away with him." 



We cannot compete with nature on the same ground. For the production, for instance, 

 of powerful light and shade in a picture, an artist must take advantage of the local color 

 of objects, and place dark ones in the shade, and white ones in the light; while, such is 

 the intensity of light in nature, that she can produce her effects independently of local 

 color, — effects more gorgeous and potent than the artist, with all the contrivances of art, 

 and of science to boot, is able to reach. 



Moreover, the effects in nature are nearly always fine. Natural objects, whether viewed 

 singly, or in groups, must be almost invariably picturesque, for both the linear and aerial 

 perspective operate upon them on the most unerring principles — an advantage which the 

 artist, from some error in applying the science, may miss. Light and shade, and reflection, 

 which the artist can but imperfectly comprehend and represent, are also, in nature, acting 

 unerringly. 



artist of a fine fjerception, is, therefore, of all others, the least satisfied with 



