ccording as the ideal is satisfied or otherwise.
It is in accord with this view of the aesthetic judgment that
while, for reason, the outward form and semblance of the object
is of subsidiary import, save from the point of view of abstract
form and physical quality, for the aesthetic feeling or intuition it
is paramount. For example, a botanist, _qua_ botanist, will reck
little of beauty of colour, or curve, or scent--indeed at times his
interest in a plant may be in inverse ratio to its beauty. But the
lover of flowers, or the poet, or the artist, will fix upon such
aesthetic qualities as determining his mood and judgment. Not
that the reflective and the aesthetic judgments are antagonistic--
they are supplementary, and, when rightly appreciated, they are
interdependent; nevertheless, they must not be confused.
The doctrine of Plotinus, the prince of mystics, is very helpful
when the problem of the ugly is in debate, and fits in admirably
with the considerations just advanced. His theory was that
material objects are beautiful in proportion as they share in
reason and form. The converse of this proposition is, that
objects are ugly in proportion as they lack the capacity for
sharing in reason and form. Passing over certain other phases of
his doctrine, let us see how far this theory will carry us in
answering the question--Is there in nature such a thing as
ugliness, in any absolute sense of the term?
Matter, as known to the modern scientist, is universally
possessed of form of some kind, and is, moreover, found to
share in reason, when tested by its responsiveness, so to speak,
to the processes of human ratiocination--or, in other words, by
its obedience to natural law. It would seem to follow that there
is no object in nature which is absolutely ugly. And the
conclusion surely commends itself to common sense. If, in spite
of this, certain objects are called "ugly," what is intended?
Following up the lead of Plotinus, we seem to be driven to the
conception of "degrees of beauty"--of "higher" and "lower"
forms of beauty. And the moment the existence of such
"degrees" is accepted, the aesthetic horizon is indefinitely
extended. The whole problem assumes larger and more generous
proportions, especially when viewed in the light of the
evolution hypothesis. For where there are degrees, or stages, it
is an easy step to conceive of transition from stage to stage. An
ugly object is only relatively ugly; and by enterin
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