s immediately upon the delighted eye; if less
palpable to the corporeal sense of touch than sculpture, with its
solidity of form,--yet is its range wider, fuller, and far more
comprehensive than any one of the sister arts. If any one should be
inclined to doubt that it is indeed a _resume_ of them all, let him
consider that in its prosodial flow, measured pauses, metrical lines,
varied cadences, stirring or soothing rhythms, sweet or rugged
rhymes,--it is music: in its metaphorical diction, descriptive imagery,
succession of shifting pictures, diversified illustration, and vivid
coloring,--it is painting; while in its organic development and
arrangement of parts, its complicated structure, in the individualism of
characters, and the sharply defined personalities of its dramatic
realm,--it struggles to attain the fixed and beautiful unity of
sculpture.

The arts find their essential unity in the fact that their sole object
is the manifestation of the beautiful. No one knows better than the
artist that beauty is not the production, of his own limited
understanding, but that, after having duly made his preliminary studies
of the laws of the medium through which he is to manifest it, it shines
into, it reveals itself, as it were, intuitively to the divining soul.
Far lower in its sphere than that infallible inspiration which speaks to
us through the sacred pages of Holy Writ of the things immediately
pertaining to our relations with God, true artistic power must still be
considered as inspiration, since it is constantly arriving at more than
the unassisted reason of man could command by the fullest exercise of
its highest logical powers. The impassioned Romeo cries: 'Can philosophy
make a Juliet?' That philosophy has never made a Juliet in art is
positively certain! Let us then reverentially enter upon an analysis of
the effect of beauty upon the human spirit, whether found in the perfect
works of our God, or shining through the more humble imitations and
manifestations of the fallible human artist.

The perception of beauty first excites a sensation of pleasure, then a
feeling of interest in the beautiful object, then a perception of
kindness in a superior intelligence, from which it is at once seen it
must ultimately flow, then a feeling of grateful veneration toward that
beneficent Intelligence. Unless the perception of beauty be accompanied
with these emotions, we have no more correct idea of beauty than we can
be sai