d, affect us quite apart from any association they may have
with natural things: arrangements of mere geometrical lines are
sufficient to suggest them. But of course other associations connected
with the objects represented will largely augment the impression, when
the line and tone arrangements and the sentiment of the object are in
sympathy. And if they are not, it may happen that associations connected
with the representation will cut in and obscure or entirely destroy this
line and tone music. That is to say, if the line and tone arrangement
in the abstract is expressive of the sublime, and the objects whose
representation they support something ridiculous, say a donkey braying,
the associations aroused by so ridiculous an appearance will override
those connected with the line and tone arrangement. But it is remarkable
how seldom this occurs in nature, the sentiment of the line and tone
arrangements things present being usually in harmony with the sentiment
of the object itself. As a matter of fact, the line effect of a donkey
in repose is much more sublime than when he is braying.

[Sidenote: Unity and Variety.]

There are two qualities that may be allowed to divide the consideration
of this subject, two points of view from which the subject can be
approached: #Unity# and #Variety#, qualities somewhat opposed to each
other, as are harmony and contrast in the realm of colour. Unity is
concerned with the relationship of all the parts to that oneness of
conception that should control every detail of a work of art. All the
more profound qualities, the deeper emotional notes, are on this side of
the subject. On the other hand, variety holds the secrets of charm,
vitality, and the picturesque, it is the "dither," the play between the
larger parts, that makes for life and character. #Without variety there
can be no life#.

In any conception of a perfect unity, like the perfected life of the
Buddhist, Nirvana or Nibbana (literally "dying out" or "extinction" as
of an expiring fire), there is no room for variety, for the play of
life; all such fretfulness ceases, to be replaced by an all-pervading
calm, beautiful, if you like, but lifeless. There is this deadness about
any conception of perfection that will always make it an unattainable
ideal in life. Those who, like the Indian fakir or the hermits of the
Middle Ages, have staked their all on this ideal of perfection, have
found it necessary to suppress life in every way