The Sacred Beetle: the Pear 



sense of elegance of form. He can dis- 

 tinguish between the beautiful and the ugly. 

 Can this be also true of the Sacred Beetle? 

 No one who knew what he was talking about 

 would venture to say yes; no one either 

 would venture to say no. It is a question 

 that cannot be answered, since we cannot 

 consult the one and only judge in this case. 

 After all, the solution might very well be 

 exceedingly simple. What does the flower 

 know of its glorious corolla? What does 

 the snowflake know of its exquisite hexagonal 

 stars? Like the flower and the snowflake, 

 the Sacred Beetle might well be ignorant of 

 the beautiful, though it be her work. 



There is beauty everywhere, on the 

 express condition that there be an eye 

 capable of recognizing it. Is this eye of the 

 mind, this eye which appraises correctness of 

 form, to some extent an attribute of the 

 dumb creation? If the ideal of beauty to 

 the Toad is unquestionably the She-toad, 

 outside the irresistible attraction of the sexes 

 is there really such a thing as beauty to an 

 animal? Considered generally, what is 

 beauty, actually? Beauty is order. What 

 is order? Harmony in the whole design. 

 What is harmony? Harmony is . . . But 

 enough. Answers would follow upon quest- 



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