416 Life as a Fine Art. 



which the artist combines and modifies." And so it is in 

 life : no life can be truly great and worthy which is not in 

 this sense artistic. It must be steadily devoted to consistent 

 and worthy ends, and exhibit a wise symmetry and propor- 

 tion in its movements. However accurately one may follow 

 set rules of conduct, or obey established codes of conven- 

 tional ethics, if his life lacks unity, spontaneity, and nobility 

 of purpose, it will fall short of an ideal excellence. 



The true artist does not strive primarily for material re- 

 ward; he desires, above all else, the intrinsic satisfaction 

 which comes from successful accomplishment. His work, 

 aspiring toward an ideal perfection, reaches out toward the 

 infinite, and does not too closely note the effect of each day's 

 effort. " Man," says Goethe, " exists . . . not for what he 

 can accomplish, but for what can be accomplished in him." 

 The artist's work is judged by its intrinsic quality rather 

 than by its quantity : so character, the finished product of 

 the life of man, is a truer measure of his worth than his 

 achievements. "Man, symbol of eternity, imprisoned in 

 time," says Carlyle, "it is not thy works, which are all 

 mortal, infinitely little, and the greatest no greater than the 

 least, but only the spirit thou workest in, that can have 

 worth or continuance." * Many an humble life which the 

 world, perhaps, pronounces a failure, is, from this higher 

 standpoint, an assured and triumphant success. 



True art is never parsimonious of time or materials. It 

 keeps its ideal steadily in view, and does not too closely count 

 the cost involved in its pursuit. The exclusive rule of sci- 

 ence^ unrestrained by ideal considerations, leads to trivial 

 paucities and economies in life. Everything mu st be weighed 

 and measured and judged by its apparent limitations. Na- 

 ture and art, on the contrary, are affluent. Their resources 

 are abundant seemingly illimitable. They strive for full- 

 ness of life, and their apparent prodigalities turn out to be 

 in fact the truest economies. As in sculpture the finished 

 statue bears but a small quantitative proportion to the refuse 

 clay and chips and discarded models which have been the 

 necessary accompaniments of its production, so it is in life. 

 Superficially regarded by the quantitative standards of sci- 

 ence, activities seem vastly disproportionate to accomplish- 

 ments. But the philosophical mind does not therefore idly 



* Sartor Resartus. 



