the production of the one as well as of the
other.

But whether that high and independent Beauty should be the only
standard in Art, as it is the highest, seems to depend on the degree
of fulness and extent that belongs to the particular Art.

Nature, in her wide circumference, ever exhibits the higher with the
lower; creating in Man the godlike, she elaborates in all her other
productions only its material and foundation, which must exist in
order that in contrast with it the Essence as such may appear. And
even in the higher world of Man the great mass serves again as the
basis upon which the godlike that is preserved pure in the few,
manifests itself in legislation, government, and the establishment of
Religion. So that wherever Art works with more of the complexity of
Nature, it may and must display, together with the highest measure of
Beauty, also its groundwork and raw material, as it were, in distinct
appropriate forms.

Here first prominently unfolds itself the difference in Nature of the
forms of Art.

Plastic Art, in the more exact sense of the term, disdains to give
Space outwardly to the object, but bears it within itself. This,
however, narrows its field; it is compelled, indeed, to display the
beauty of the Universe almost in a single point. It must therefore aim
immediately at the highest, and can attain complexity only separately
and in the strictest exclusion of all conflicting elements. By
isolating the purely animal in human nature it succeeds in forming
inferior creations too, harmonious and even beautiful, as we are
taught by the beauty of numerous Fauns preserved from antiquity; yea,
it can, parodying itself like the merry spirit of Nature, reverse
its own Ideal, and, for instance, in the extravagance of the Silenic
figures, by light and sportive treatment appear freed again from the
pressure of matter.

But in all cases it is compelled strictly to isolate the work, in
order to make it self-consistent and a world in itself; since for
this form of Art there is no higher unity, in which the dissonance of
particulars should be melted into harmony.

Painting, on the contrary, in the very extent of its sphere, can
better measure itself with the Universe, and create with epic
profusion. In an Iliad there is room even for a Thersites; and what
does not find a place in the great epic of Nature and History!

Here the Particular scarcely counts anything by itself; the Universe
takes its place, an