ply and clearly, and it
is that message which the mind takes from them and dwells upon,
regardless of the language in which it is delivered. But the mind, in
receiving an idea of imitation, is wholly occupied in finding out that
what has been suggested to it is not what it appears to be: it does not
dwell on the suggestion, but on the perception that it is a false
suggestion: it derives its pleasure, not from the contemplation of a
truth, but from the discovery of a falsehood. So that the moment ideas
of truth are grouped together, so as to give rise to an idea of
imitation, they change their very nature--lose their essence as ideas of
truth--and are corrupted and degraded, so as to share in the treachery
of what they have produced. Hence, finally, ideas of truth are the
foundation, and ideas of imitation the destruction, of all art. We shall
be better able to appreciate their relative dignity after the
investigation which we propose of the functions of the former; but we
may as well now express the conclusion to which we shall then be
led--that no picture can be good which deceives by its imitation, for
the very reason that nothing can be beautiful which is not true.

CHAPTER VI.

OF IDEAS OF BEAUTY.

Sec. 1. Definition of the term "beautiful."

Any material object which can give us pleasure in the simple
contemplation of its outward qualities without any direct and definite
exertion of the intellect, I call in some way, or in some degree,
beautiful. Why we receive pleasure from some forms and colors, and not
from others, is no more to be asked or answered than why we like sugar
and dislike wormwood. The utmost subtilty of investigation will only
lead us to ultimate instincts and principles of human nature, for which
no farther reason can be given than the simple will of the Deity that we
should be so created. We may, indeed, perceive, as far as we are
acquainted with His nature, that we have been so constructed as, when in
a healthy and cultivated state of mind, to derive pleasure from whatever
things are illustrative of that nature; but we do not receive pleasure
from them _because_ they are illustrative of it, nor from any perception
that they are illustrative of it, but instinctively and necessarily, as
we derive sensual pleasure from the scent of a rose. On these primary
principles of our nature, education and accident operate to an unlimited