tion produced by the consciousness of right conduct. Though all men are conscious of the influence of beauty in some form or other (for even the Bushman has his rock-paintings), most men, even among societies which have reached a high degree of civilization, are prepared to accept the sensations and emotions so distinguished without troubling themselves to inquire into their origin, or asking what their precise value and significance may be. Philosophy has sought to provide answers to these questions, and German philosophy in particular has been occupied with the task of formulating these answers in a manner consistent with metaphysical systems of thought. Hence has arisen the philosophy of the beautiful, or the 'science of æsthetics,' a special product of the German mind, which has for its object to explain both the origin of the general conception of beauty, and the relationship of that conception to both the states of consciousness, on the one hand, and the material existences, on the other, with which it is respectively identified by human intelligence. But it cannot be said that the body of æsthetic doctrine provided by the researches of Kant, Schelling, Hegel, Schiller, and other metaphysical writers, is wholly satisfactory. Something has been added, no doubt, to the results previously obtained by Greek thought, and old principles have been re-stated in transcendental language; but both the new and the old truths have been connected with abstract conceptions so

cumbrous that the science of æsthetics, as thus formulated, has remained practically ineffective as a contribution to the general knowledge of the world.

More important results have, however, been secured by thinkers who have adopted scientific methods of inquiry. Locke's theory of the Association of Ideas revealed the source and manner of production of whole classes of æsthetic enjoyments. Addison translated the doctrines of Locke and Hobbes into the terms of common experience, and applied the results which he obtained to the examination of creative literature. The further advance which has been made since the days of Locke and Addison has proceeded upon the same lines, and it is now recognized that psychology is the true basis upon which any complete and effective æsthetic theory must be founded. Without attempting to trace the several steps in this advance, it is sufficient for our purposes to take the account given by Mr. Herbert Spencer in his chapter on 'Esthetic Sentiments.' Here, at length, a scientific principle of explanation is provided, which can be applied to the entire field of æsthetic enjoyment without loss of validity or distinctness.

But before considering this account, it is necessary to indicate with more precision the scope of the term 'æsthetics,' and the character of the subjectmatter with which it is concerned. For the words 'æsthetic' and 'æsthetics' have acquired meanings which are quite distinct from the original and

primary significance of alotnois (perception). The term has undergone a double process. It has been specialized from 'perception' to the 'perception of beauty'; and the perception of beauty' has then been generalized to 'consciousness of beauty': consciousness, that is, whether due to sensation, perception, or the simulation of sensations or perceptions, or both, through the imagination. I will endeavour to indicate the significance of these three kinds of æsthetic enjoyments by taking three (roughly) typical instances.

I look out from the window of the room in which I write, and my eye rests upon a stretch of grass still fresh with the recent rains, and raised to a vivid tone by a flood of sunshine. It neither warms nor feeds me to look out on this sun-lit stretch of lawn, but the sensation which the sight of it produces is nevertheless one of enjoyment. Again, from the same window my eye rests upon a line of buildings. The architect's design is such that it satisfies both the desire for unity by the repetition of certain parts, and the desire for variety by the introduction of detail into the repeated parts. Moreover, it is an ancient building, for the whole structure is coloured and harmonized by the hand of time, and, as I look, the pictures of scenes enacted in bygone days arise without conscious effort in my mind. The enjoyment which I now experience is due not merely to sensation, but to both sensation and perception-the perception of qualities which I have learnt by

previous experience to recognize as possessing artistic merit and intellectual significance. Once more, I turn from my window to my book-shelves and take down a volume of Shakespeare. I open it

at As You Like It.' As I read I seem to hear the voices of Celia and Rosalind breaking the silence of the forest glades of Arden; and I grow interested and delighted as I follow the adventures of Rosalind, this girl who is at once so daring and so loving. My enjoyment is no less a fact of consciousness, no less real in this sense than it was before; but it is due neither to a sensation nor a perception, but to the simulation of a series of sensations and perceptions which are suggested to me by the words which I read. This is a species of enjoyment which possesses the characteristic quality of the class of enjoyments termed æsthetic in the highest degree. This quality we will call 'remoteness from physical impulse,' carefully noting, however, that 'impulse' not 'processes' is meant. It is necessary to note this distinction, because æsthetic sensations and perceptions consist largely of physical processes, but of physical processes which have been separated from physical impulses.

Let me illustrate this quality of 'remoteness from physical impulse' by some examples. The savage sees a roebuck and is glad, because he anticipates the flesh and other useful things with which this beast will supply him when he has killed it. The traveller admires its graceful form, and the splendid

activity which it displays as it bounds from rock to rock. Both enjoy the sight of the animal; but the enjoyment of the savage arises from the impulse to kill and eat, that of the traveller is entirely removed from any such primitive desires, and, as being removed from these physical impulses, is disinterested, and therefore æsthetic. But if the traveller seeks to kill the roebuck, either because he has lost his way and is in want of food, or from love of sport, or because he wishes to secure the skin of the animal for purposes of trade, his enjoyment at the sight of the animal ceases to be æsthetic. It becomes at once connected with aims directly arising out of the physical impulses which appear in their primitive form in the savage. Similarly, the pleasure which the millionaire experiences from the sight of his newly-built palace arises from the sense of possession; from the knowledge that this fine house will materially aid him in the realization of his ambition for power and social prestige. The artist and the man of taste also derive pleasure from the sight of the millionaire's house; but their pleasure is solely due to a perception of its artistic merits, and being entirely disconnected from any prospect of material benefit is therefore æsthetic.

But in the sight of a picture, in the sight of a building, in the sound of music, although there is æsthetic pleasure, yet the æsthetic pleasure is directly dependent upon the senses, since it arises immediately from a sense-perception, and ceases to