d that, which by itself would not be beautiful,
becomes so in the harmony of the whole. If in an extensive painting,
uniting forms by the allotted space, by light, by shade, by
reflection, the highest measure of Beauty were everywhere employed,
the result would be the most unnatural monotony; for, as Winckelmann
says, the highest idea of Beauty is everywhere one and the same, and
scarcely admits of variation. The detail would be preferred to
the whole, where, as in every case in which the whole is formed by
multiplicity, the detail must be subordinate to it.

[Illustration: THE JUNGFRAU _From the Painting by Moritz von Schwind_]

In such a work, therefore, a gradation of Beauty must be observed, by
which alone the full Beauty concentrated in the focus becomes visible;
and from an exaggeration of particulars proceeds an equipoise of the
whole. Here, then, the limited and characteristic finds its place; and
theory at least should direct the painter, not so much to the narrow
space in which the entire Beauty is concentrically collected, as to
the characteristic complexity of Nature, through which alone he can
impart to an extensive work the full measure of living significance.

Thus thought, among the founders of modern art, the noble Leonardo;
thus Raphael, the master of high Beauty, who shunned not to exhibit
it in smaller measure, rather than to appear monotonous, lifeless, and
unreal--though he understood not only how to produce it, but also how
to break up uniformity by variety of expression.

For, although Character can show itself also in rest and equilibrium
of form, it is only in action that it becomes truly alive.

By character we understand a unity of several forces, operating
constantly to produce among them a certain equipoise and determinate
proportion, to which, if undisturbed, a like equipoise in the symmetry
of the forms corresponds. But if this vital Unity is to display itself
in act and operation, this can only be when the forces, excited by
some cause to rebellion, forsake their equilibrium. Every one sees
that this is the case in the Passions.

Here we are met by the well-known maxim of the theorists, which
demands that Passion should be moderated as far as possible, in its
actual outburst, that beauty of Form may not be injured. But we think
this maxim should rather be reversed, and read thus--that Passion
should be moderated by Beauty itself. For it is much to be feared that
this desired modera