ous than
those of sense, more massive and rapturous than those of intelligence.
The values inherent in imagination, in instant intuition, in sense
endowed with form, are called aesthetic values; they are found mainly in
nature and living beings, but often also in man's artificial works, in
images evoked by language, and in the realm of sound.

[Sidenote: Inseparable from the others.]

Productions in which an aesthetic value is or is supposed to be
prominent take the name of fine art; but the work of fine art so defined
is almost always an abstraction from the actual object, which has many
non-aesthetic functions and values. To separate the aesthetic element,
abstract and dependent as it often is, is an artifice which is more
misleading than helpful; for neither in the history of art nor in a
rational estimate of its value can the aesthetic function of things be
divorced from the practical and moral. What had to be done was, by
imaginative races, done imaginatively; what had to be spoken or made,
was spoken or made fitly, lovingly, beautifully. Or, to take the matter
up on its psychological side, the ceaseless experimentation and ferment
of ideas, in breeding what it had a propensity to breed, came sometimes
on figments that gave it delightful pause; these beauties were the first
knowledges and these arrests the first hints of real and useful things.
The rose's grace could more easily be plucked from its petals than the
beauty of art from its subject, occasion, and use. An aesthetic
fragrance, indeed, all things may have, if in soliciting man's senses or
reason they can awaken his imagination as well; but this middle zone is
so mixed and nebulous, and its limits are so vague, that it cannot well
be treated in theory otherwise than as it exists in fact--as a phase of
man's sympathy with the world he moves in. If art is that element in the
Life of Reason which consists in modifying its environment the better
to attain its end, art may be expected to subserve all parts of the
human ideal, to increase man's comfort, knowledge, and delight. And as
nature, in her measure, is wont to satisfy these interests together, so
art, in seeking to increase that satisfaction, will work simultaneously
in every ideal direction. Nor will any of these directions be on the
whole good, or tempt a well-trained will, if it leads to estrangement
from all other interests. The aesthetic good will be accordingly hatched
in the same nest with the ot