OF VITAL BEAUTY.--SECONDLY AS GENERIC.
Sec. 1. The beauty of fulfilment of appointed function in every animal.
Hitherto we have observed the conclusions of the theoretic faculty with
respect to the relations of happiness, and of more or less exalted
function existing between different orders of organic being. But we must
pursue the inquiry farther yet, and observe what impressions of beauty
are connected with more or less perfect fulfilment of the appointed
function by different individuals of the same species. We are now no
longer called to pronounce upon worthiness of occupation or dignity of
disposition; but both employment and capacity being known, and the
animal's position and duty fixed, we have to regard it in that respect
alone, comparing it with other individuals of its species, and to
determine how far it worthily executes its office; whether, if scorpion,
it hath poison enough, or if tiger, strength enough, or if dove,
innocence enough, to sustain rightly its place in creation, and come up
to the perfect idea of dove, tiger, or scorpion.
In the first or sympathetic operation of the theoretic faculty, it will
be remembered, we receive pleasure from the signs of mere happiness in
living things. In the second theoretic operation of comparing and
judging, we constituted ourselves such judges of the lower creatures as
Adam was made by God when they were brought to him to be named, and we
allowed of beauty in them as they reached, more or less, to that
standard of moral perfection by which we test ourselves. But, in the
third place, we are to come down again from the judgment seat, and
taking it for granted that every creature of God is in some way good,
and has a duty and specific operation providentially accessory to the
well-being of all, we are to look in this faith to that employment and
nature of each, and to derive pleasure from their entire perfection and
fitness for the duty they have to do, and in their entire fulfilment of
it: and so we are to take pleasure and find beauty in the magnificent
binding together of the jaws of the ichthyosaurus for catching and
holding, and in the adaptation of the lion for springing, and of the
locust for destroying, and of the lark for singing, and in every
creature for the doing of that which God has made it to do. Which
faithful pleasure in the perception of the perfect operation of lower
creatures I have placed last among the perfections of the theoretic
faculty concerning them, because it is commonly last acquired, both
owing to the humbleness and trustfulness of heart which it demands, and
because it implies a knowledge of the habits and structure of every
creature, such as we can but imperfectly possess.
Sec. 2. The two senses of the word "ideal." Either it refers to action of
the imagination.
The perfect _idea_ of the form and condition in which all the properties
of the species are fully developed, is called the ideal of the species.
The question of the nature of ideal conception of species, and of the
mode in which the mind arrives at it, has been the subject of so much
discussion, and source of so much embarrassment, chiefly owing to that
unfortunate distinction between idealism and realism which leads most
people to imagine the ideal opposed to the real, and therefore _false_,
that I think it necessary to request the reader's most careful attention
to the following positions.
Any work of art which represents, not a material object, but the mental
conception of a material object, is, in the primary sense of the word
ideal; that is to say, it represents an idea, and not a thing. Any work
of art which represents or realizes a material object, is, in the
primary sense of the term, unideal.
Ideal works of art, therefore, in this first sense, represent the result
of an act of imagination, and are good or bad in proportion to the
healthy condition and general power of the imagination, whose acts they
represent.
Unideal works of art (the studious production of which is termed
realism) represent actual existing things, and are good or bad in
proportion to the perfection of the representation.
All entirely bad works of art may be divided into those which,
professing to be imaginative, bear no stamp of imagination, and are
therefore false, and those which, professing to be representative of
matter, miss of the representation and are therefore nugatory.
It is the habit of most observers to regard art as representative of
matter, and to look only for the entireness of representation; and it
was to this view of art that I limited the arguments of the former
sections of the present work, wherein having to oppose the conclusions
of a criticism entirely based upon the realist system, I was compelled
to meet that criticism on its own grounds. But the greater part of works
of art, more especially those devoted to the expression of ideas of
beauty, are the results of the agency of imagination, their worthiness
depending, as above stated, on the healthy condition of the imagination.
Hence it is necessary for us, in order to arrive at conclusions
respecting the worthiness of such works, to define and examine the
nature of the imaginative faculty, and to determine first what are the
signs or conditions of its existence at all; and secondly, what are the
evidences of its healthy and efficient existence, upon which examination
I shall enter in the second section of the present part.
Sec. 3. Or to perfection of type.
But there is another sense of the word ideal besides this, and it is
that with which we are here concerned. It is evident that, so long as we
use the word to signify that art which represents ideas and not things,
we may use it as truly of the art which represents an idea of Caliban,
and not real Caliban, as of the art which represents an idea of
Antinous, and not real Antinous. For that is as much imagination which
conceives the monster as which conceives the man. If, however, Caliban
and Antinous be creatures of the same species, and the form of the one
contain not the fully developed types or characters of the species,
while the form of the other presents the greater part of them, then the
latter is said to be a form more ideal than the other, as a nearer
approximation to the general idea or conception of the species.
Sec. 4. This last sense how inaccurate, yet to be retained.
Now it is evident that this use of the word ideal is much less accurate
than the other, from which it is derived, for it rests on the assumption
that the assemblage of all the characters of a species in their perfect
development cannot exist but in the imagination. For if it can actually
and in reality exist, it is not right to call it ideal or imaginary; it
would be better to call it characteristic or general, and to reserve the
word ideal for the results of the operation of the imagination, either
on the perfect or imperfect forms.
Nevertheless, the word ideal has been so long and universally accepted
in this sense, that I think it better to continue the use of it, so only
that the reader will be careful to observe the distinction in the sense,
according to the subject matter under discussion. At present then, using
it as expressive of the noble generic form which indicates the full
perfection of the creature in all its functions, I wish to examine how
far this perception exists or may exist in nature, and if not in nature,
how it is by us discoverable or imaginable.
Sec. 5. Of Ideal form. First, in the lower animals.
Now it is better, when we wish to arrive at truth, always to take
familiar instances, wherein the mind is not likely to be biassed by any
elevated associations or favorite theories. Let us ask therefore, first,
what kind of ideal form may be attributed to a limpet or an oyster, that
is to say, whether all oysters do or do not come up to the entire notion
or idea of an oyster. I apprehend that, although in respect of size,
age, and kind of feeding, there may be some difference between them, yet
of those which are of full size and healthy condition there will be
found many which fulfil the conditions of an oyster in every respect,
and that so perfectly, that we could not, by combining the features of
two or more together, produce a more perfect oyster than any that we
see. I suppose also, that, out of a number of healthy fish, birds, or
beasts of the same species, it would not be easy to select an individual
as superior to _all_ the rest; neither by comparing two or more of the
nobler examples together, to arrive at the conception of a form superior
to that of either; but that, though the accidents of more abundant food
or more fitting habitation may induce among them some varieties of size,
strength, and color, yet the entire generic form would be presented by
many, neither would any art be able to add to or diminish from it.
Sec. 6. In what consistent.
It is, therefore, hardly right to use the word ideal of the generic
forms of these creatures, of which we see actual examples; but if we are
to use it, then be it distinctly understood that their ideality consists
in the full development of all the powers and properties of the creature
as such, and is inconsistent with accidental or imperfect developments,
and even with great variation from average size, the ideal size being
neither gigantic nor diminutive, but the utmost grandeur and entireness
of proportion at a certain point above the mean size; for as more
individuals always fall short of generic size than rise above it, the
generic is above the average or mean size. And this perfection of the
creature invariably involves the utmost possible degree of all those
properties of beauty, both typical and vital, which it is appointed to
possess.
Sec. 7. Ideal form in vegetables.
Let us next observe the conditions of ideality in vegetables. Out of a
large number of primroses or violets, I apprehend that, although one or
two might be larger than all the rest, the greater part would be very
sufficient primroses and violets. And that we could, by no study nor
combination of violets, conceive of a better violet than many in the
bed. And so generally of the blossoms and separate members of all
vegetables.
But among the entire forms of the complex vegetables, as of oak-trees,
for instance, there exists very large and constant difference, some
being what we hold to be fine oaks, as in parks, and places where they
are taken care of, and have their own way, and some are but poor and
mean oaks, which have had no one to take care of them, but have been
obliged to maintain themselves.
That which we have to determine is, whether ideality be predicable of
the fine oaks only, or whether the poor and mean oaks also may be
considered as ideal, that is, coming up to the conditions of oak, and
the general notion of oak.
Sec. 8. The difference of position between plants and animals.
Now there is this difference between the positions held in creation by
animals and plants, and thence in the dispositions with which we regard
them; that the animals, being for the most part locomotive, are capable
both of living where they choose, and of obtaining what food they want,
and of fulfilling all the conditions necessary to their health and
perfection. For which reason they are answerable for such health and
perfection, and we should be displeased and hurt if we did not find it
in one individual as well as another.
Sec. 9. Admits of variety in the ideal of the former.
But the case is evidently different with plants. They are intended
fixedly to occupy many places comparatively unfit for them, and to fill
up all the spaces where greenness, and coolness, and ornament, and
oxygen are wanted, and that with very little reference to their comfort
or convenience. Now it would be hard upon the plant if, after being tied
to a particular spot, where it is indeed much wanted, and is a great
blessing, but where it has enough to do to live, whence it cannot move
to obtain what it wants or likes, but must stretch its unfortunate arms
here and there for bare breath and light, and split its way among rocks,
and grope for sustenance in unkindly soil; it would be hard upon the
plant, I say, if under all these disadvantages, it were made answerable
for its appearance, and found fault with because it was not a fine plant
of the kind. And so we find it ordained that in order that no unkind
comparisons may be drawn between one and another, there are not
appointed to plants the fixed number, position, and proportion of
members which are ordained in animals, (and any variation from which in
these is unpardonable,) but a continually varying number and position,
even among the more freely growing examples, admitting therefore all
kinds of license to those which have enemies to contend with, and that
without in any way detracting from their dignity and perfection.
So then there is in trees no perfect form which can be fixed upon or
reasoned out as ideal; but that is always an ideal oak which, however
poverty-stricken, or hunger-pinched, or tempest-tortured, is yet seen to
have done, under its appointed circumstances, all that could be expected
of oak.
The ideal, therefore, of the park oak is that to which I alluded in the
conclusion of the former part of this work, full size, united terminal
curve, equal and symmetrical range of branches on each side. The ideal
of the mountain oak may be anything, twisting, and leaning, and
shattered, and rock-encumbered, so only that amidst all its misfortunes,
it maintain the dignity of oak; and, indeed, I look upon this kind of
tree as more ideal than the other, in so far as by its efforts and
struggles, more of its nature, enduring power, patience in waiting for,
and ingenuity in obtaining what it wants, is brought out, and so more of
the essence of oak exhibited, than under more fortunate conditions.
Sec. 10. Ideal form in vegetables destroyed by cultivation.
And herein, then, we at last find the cause of that fact which we have
twice already noted, that the exalted or seemingly improved condition,
whether of plant or animal, induced by human interference, is not the
true and artistical ideal of it.[35] It has been well shown by Dr.
Herbert,[36] that many plants are found alone on a certain soil or
subsoil in a wild state, not because such soil is favorable to them, but
because they alone are capable of existing on it, and because all
dangerous rivals are by its inhospitality removed. Now if we withdraw
the plant from this position, which it hardly endures, and supply it
with the earth, and maintain about it the temperature that it delights
in; withdrawing from it at the same time all rivals which, in such
conditions nature would have thrust upon it, we shall indeed obtain a
magnificently developed example of the plant, colossal in size, and
splendid in organization, but we shall utterly lose in it that moral
ideal which is dependent on its right fulfilment of its appointed
functions. It was intended and created by the Deity for the covering of
those lonely spots where no other plant could live; it has been thereto
endowed with courage, and strength, and capacities of endurance
unequalled; its character and glory are not therefore in the gluttonous
and idle feeling of its own over luxuriance, at the expense of other
creatures utterly destroyed and rooted out for its good alone, but in
its right doing of its hard duty; and forward climbing into those spots
of forlorn hope where it alone can bear witness to the kindness and
presence of the Spirit that cutteth out rivers among the rocks, as it
covers the valleys with corn: and there, in its vanward place, and only
there, where nothing is withdrawn for it, nor hurt by it, and where
nothing can take part of its honor, nor usurp its throne, are its
strength, and fairness, and price, and goodness in the sight of God, to
be truly esteemed.
Sec. 11. Instance in the Soldanella and Ranunculus.
The first time that I saw the soldanella alpina, before spoken of, it
was growing, of magnificent size, on a sunny Alpine pasture, among
bleating of sheep and lowing of cattle, associated with a profusion of
geum montanum, and ranunculus pyrenaeus. I noticed it only because new to
me, nor perceived any peculiar beauty in its cloven flower. Some days
after, I found it alone, among the rack of the higher clouds, and
howling of glacier winds, and, as I described it, piercing through an
edge of avalanche, which in its retiring had left the new ground brown
and lifeless, and as if burned by recent fire; the plant was poor and
feeble, and seemingly exhausted with its efforts, but it was then that I
comprehended its ideal character, and saw its noble function and order
of glory among the constellations of the earth.
The ranunculus glacialis might perhaps, by cultivation, be blanched from
its wan and corpse-like paleness to purer white, and won to more
branched and lofty development of its ragged leaves. But the ideal of
the plant is to be found only in the last, loose stones of the moraine,
alone there; wet with the cold, unkindly drip of the glacier water, and
trembling as the loose and steep dust to which it clings yields ever and
anon, and shudders and crumbles away from about its root.
Sec. 12. The beauty of repose and felicity, how consistent with such ideal.
And if it be asked how this conception of the utmost beauty of ideal
form is consistent with what we formerly argued respecting the
pleasantness of the appearance of felicity in the creature, let it be
observed, and forever held, that the right and true happiness of every
creature, is in this very discharge of its function, and in those
efforts by which its strength and inherent energy are developed: and
that the repose of which we also spoke as necessary to all beauty, is,
as was then stated, repose not of inanition, nor of luxury, nor of
irresolution, but the repose of magnificent energy and being; in action,
the calmness of trust and determination; in rest, the consciousness of
duty accomplished and of victory won, and this repose and this felicity
can take place as well in the midst of trial and tempest, as beside the
waters of comfort; they perish only when the creature is either
unfaithful to itself, or is afflicted by circumstances unnatural and
malignant to its being, and for the contending with which it was neither
fitted nor ordained. Hence that rest which is indeed glorious is of the
chamois couched breathless on his granite bed, not of the stalled ox
over his fodder, and that happiness which is indeed beautiful is in the
bearing of those trial tests which are appointed for the proving of
every creature, whether it be good, or whether it be evil; and in the
fulfilment to the uttermost of every command it has received, and the
out-carrying to the uttermost of every power and gift it has gotten from
its God.
Sec. 13. The ideality of Art.
Therefore the task of the painter in his pursuit of ideal form is to
attain accurate knowledge, so far as may be in his power, of the
character, habits, and peculiar virtues and duties of every species of
being; down even to the stone, for there is an ideality of stones
according to their kind, an ideality of granite and slate and marble,
and it is in the utmost and most exalted exhibition of such individual
character, order, and use, that all ideality of art consists. The more
cautious he is in assigning the right species of moss to its favorite
trunk, and the right kind of weed to its necessary stone, in marking the
definite and characteristic leaf, blossom, seed, fracture, color, and
inward anatomy of everything, the more truly ideal his work becomes. All
confusion of species, all careless rendering of character, all unnatural
and arbitrary association, is vulgar and unideal in proportion to its
degree.
Sec. 14. How connected with the imaginative faculties.
It is to be noted, however, that nature sometimes in a measure herself
conceals these generic differences, and that when she displays them it
is commonly on a scale too small for human hand to follow.
The pursuit and seizure of the generic differences in their concealment,
and the display of them on a larger and more palpable scale, is one of
the wholesome and healthy operations of the imagination of which we are
presently to speak.[37]
Generic differences being commonly exhibited by art in different manner
and way from that of their natural occurrence, are in this respect more
strictly and truly ideal in art than in reality.
Sec. 15. Ideality, how belonging to ages and conditions.
This only remains to be noted, that, of all creatures whose existence
involves birth, progress, and dissolution, ideality is predicable all
through their existence, so that they be perfect with reference to their
supposed period of being. Thus there is an ideal of infancy, of youth,
of old age, of death, and of decay. But when the ideal form of the
species is spoken of or conceived in general terms, the form is
understood to be of that period when the generic attributes are
perfectly developed, and previous to the commencement of their decline.
At which period all the characters of vital and typical beauty are
commonly most concentrated in them, though the arrangement and
proportion of these characters varies at different periods, youth having
more of the vigorous beauty, and age of the reposing; youth of typical
outward fairness, and age of expanded and etherealized moral expression;
the babe, again, in some measure atoning in gracefulness for its want of
strength, so that the balanced glory of the creature continues in solemn
interchange, perhaps even
"Filling more and more with crystal light,
As pensive evening deepens into night."
Hitherto, however, we have confined ourselves to the examination of
ideal form in the lower animals, and we have found that, to arrive at
it, no combination of forms nor exertion of fancy is required, but only
simple choice among those naturally presented, together with careful
investigation and anatomizing of the habits of the creatures. I fear we
shall arrive at a very different conclusion, in considering the ideal
form of man.
FOOTNOTES
[35] I speak not here of those conditions of vegetation which have
especial reference to man, as of seeds and fruits, whose sweetness
and farina seem in great measure given, not for the plant's sake,
but for his, and to which therefore the interruption in the harmony
of creation of which he was the cause is extended, and their
sweetness and larger measure of good to be obtained only by his
redeeming labor. His curse has fallen on the corn and the vine, and
the wild barley misses of its fulness, that he may eat bread by the
sweat of his brow.
[36] Journal of the Horticultural Society. Part I.
[37] Compare Sect. II. Chap. IV.