uty: and the curves which are incapable of being
completely drawn, because, as in the two cases above given, the law of
their being supposes them to proceed for ever into space, are of a
higher beauty.

Sec. 8. Thus, in the very first elements of form, a lesson is given us as
to the true source of the nobleness and chooseableness of all things.
The two classes of curves thus sternly separated from each other, may
most properly be distinguished as the "Mortal and Immortal Curves;" the
one having an appointed term of existence, the other absolutely
incomprehensible and endless, only to be seen or grasped during a
certain moment of their course. And it is found universally that the
class to which the human mind is attached for its chief enjoyment are
the Endless or Immortal lines.

Sec. 9. "Nay," but the reader answers, "what right have you to say that one
class is more beautiful than the other? Suppose I like the finite curves
best, who shall say which of us is right?"

No one. It is simply a question of experience. You will not, I think,
continue to like the finite curves best as you contemplate them
carefully, and compare them with the others. And if you should do so, it
then yet becomes a question to be decided by longer trial, or more
widely canvassed opinion. And when we find on examination that every
form which, by the consent of human kind, has been received as lovely,
in vases, flowing ornaments, embroideries, and all other things
dependent on abstract line, is composed of these infinite curves, and
that Nature uses them for every important contour, small or large, which
she desires to recommend to human observance, we shall not, I think,
doubt that the preference of such lines is a sign of healthy taste, and
true instinct.

Sec. 10. I am not sure, however, how far the delightfulness of such line,
is owing, not merely to their expression of infinity, but also to that
of restraint or moderation. Compare Stones of Venice, vol. iii. chap. i.
Sec. 9, where the subject is entered into at some length. Certainly the
beauty of such curvature is owing, in a considerable degree, to both
expressions; but when the line is sharply terminated, perhaps more to
that of moderation than of infinity. For the most part, gentle or
subdued sounds, and gentle or subdued colors, are more pleasing than
either in their utmost force; nevertheless, in all the noblest
compositions, this utmost power is permitted, but only for a short time