And I agree that this rhythmic relation of part to part, and part to
whole--in short, vitality--is the one quality inseparable from a work of
Art. For nothing which does not seem to a man possessed of this rhythmic
vitality, can ever steal him out of himself.
The active amusements and relaxations of life can only rest certain of
our faculties, by indulging others; the whole self is never rested save
through that unconsciousness of self, which comes through rapt
contemplation of Nature or of Art.
And, here and there, amid the disasters and wreckage of their voyages of
discovery, they will find something new, some fresh way of embellishing
life, or of revealing the heart of things.
Beauty! An awkward word--a perpetual begging of the question; too
current in use, too ambiguous altogether; now too narrow, now too wide--a
word, in fact, too glib to know at all what it means.