the result of one operation is that definite object upon which the
next operation is performed. The memory, for example, classifies
in time what the senses may have classified in space. We are
nowhere concerned with objects other than objects of human
experience, and the epithets, definite and indefinite, refer
necessarily to their relation to our various categories of perception
and comprehension.

10 In the Aegina marbles the wounded and dying warriors still
wear this Buddha-like expression: their bodies, although
conventional, show a great progress in observation, compared with
the impossible Athena in the centre with her sacred feet in
Egyptian profile and her owl-like visage.

11 Symposium of Xenophon, V.

12 It is a superstition to suppose that a refined taste would
necessarily find the actual and useful to be the perfect; to conceal
structure is as legitimate as to emphasize it, and for the name
reason. We emphasize in the direction of abstract beauty, in the
direction of absolute pleasure; and we conceal or eliminate in the
same direction. The most exquisite Greek taste, for instance,
preferred to drape the lower part of the female figure, as in the
Venus of Milo; also in men to shave the hair of the face and body,
in order to maintain the purity and strength of the lines. In the one
case we conceal structure, in the other we reveal it, modifying
nature into greater sympathy with our faculties of perception. For,
after all, it must be remembered that beauty, or pleasure to be
given to the eye, is not a guiding principle in the world of nature or
in that of the practical arts. The beauty is in nature a result of the
functional adaptation of our senses and imagination to the
mechanical products of our environment. This adaptation is never
complete, and there is, accordingly, room for the fine arts, in which
beauty is a result of the intentional adaptation of mechanical forms
to the functions which our senses and imagination already have
acquired. This watchful subservience to our aesthetic demands is
the essence of fine art. Nature is the basis, but man is the goal.

13 Not only are words untranslatable when the exact object has no
name in another language, as "home" or "mon ami," but even when
the object is the same, the attitude toward it, incorporated in one
word, cannot be rendered by another. Thus, to my sense, "bread" is
as inadequate a translation of the human intensity of the Spanish
"pan" as