and are unconscious of the harm and danger possibly lurking there (xix 386).

5.-CRITICISM

All that has been said so far about the essence and the purpose of true literature finds its application in practical criticism. If the essence of literature is not its literary form but its content, then surely no critic satisfies his obligation by reverting only to the former and ignoring the latter. Brownson himself 'cannot understand literature for its own sake, or say much of the form of a literary work without reference to its contents' (xix 363). Nor is he satisfied with those who make the appearance of any book the occasion merely for searching into the psychological states of a writer, and who value that book only in so far as it reveals this interior condition of his mind. An author, of course, is liable to criticism in so far as he expresses himself in his work, but no farther; as man he is subject to no 'literary tribunal' (xix 330-1). Again Brownson cannot reconcile himself to the practice of those who criticize a book merely by describing the personal emotions which they felt while reading it; he is unable to present his own emotions to the public as the object criticized (xix 364). For him proper criticism commences with ascertaining the end of a literary production as proposed by the author to himself. When this is found to be in accordance with the object of literature in general, the critic proceeds to examine the success with which the writer accomplished his purpose, and the beauty and literary taste by means of which he tried to gain his end (xix 366). Considered in connection with this end, every feature of the work becomes a matter of importance. Separately, indeed, the form has little value; but in its proper relation it can no longer be a matter of indifference and should receive its due consideration (xix 364).

If we examine the fidelity with which Brownson himself follows out his principles, we shall find that his first step is indeed generally to ascertain the aim and the spirit of the author. After that he discusses the success with which the author's purpose was attained and the general effect of the work on the people. Very often the criticism of the content so absorbs

his attention that he loses himself entirely in suggestions of what the content should have been, forgetting all other matters. In such moments of enthusiasm, remarks about the writers often lack the mildness that he himself counsels. On the few occasions when Brownson does remark on the style itself of the productions criticized, we find him berating especially 'efforts at fine writing,' diffuseness, 'lack of dignity and strength,' stiff and awkward dialogues (xix 137, 157, 338, 367), while he singles out for special commendation 'originality, depth and vigor of expression,' a 'natural, simple, easy, graceful' flow, 'clear, strong, terse, energetic' language, 'freedom and conversational directness' (xix 46, 56, 339, 367); but even these are unable to save a situation when 'the decorations strike us more than the temple itself, and the shrine evidently surpasses the god' (xix 3).

If the principles so far mentioned are all that we have entered under the heading of "Literary Principles," we do not mean to give the impression that a complete synthesis has been produced of the views on which Brownson based his criticisms. So far it is especially the sociological aspect of these principles that has been developed, and a further task, equally important if not more so, remains—that of unfolding the principles of aesthetics which guided Brownson in his judgment on the various works considered specifically from the side of art. Not that the sociological principles are something entirely independent of those of aesthetics in Brownson's mind. By no means. All that has been said of literature is also true in a modified way of art in general. But the sociological principles have been emphasized here because they were thus implicitly emphasized by Brownson himself and because they receive a more extensive and more direct application in the field of literature than in that of the other forms of art. In most of his literary criticisms Brownson views the works in question also more directly under the relation of art; and a sufficient number of statements can be gathered to obtain from them an estimate of his theory of aesthetics. Indeed, without these aesthetic principles and without a close connection between them and the sociological conception, literature would for Brownson come to mean writing formally didactic in nature, despite his protestations to the contrary.

CHAPTER II

AESTHETIC PRINCIPLES

1.—IDEA OF ART AND AESTHETICS

A work of art contains in itself the beautiful; to embody and reveal this, says Brownson, is the province of art (xix 126). Around the meaning of the term beautiful, then, will center every discussion or philosophy of art according to Brownson. Genius, talent, and learning, he says, do not suffice in themselves; if they are applied to a false theory of art, the result will be disastrous to human nature or at least repulsive to the very idea of true art (xix 48-9). Even the ancients were aware that art gives expression to the beautiful by imitating nature. This, indeed, is correct if a proper understanding prevails as to the extent of the imitation (xix 420). The problem thus again resolves itself into a question of how far the beautiful is expressed in nature, of a proper understanding of the term beautiful. And an elaboration of this conception will also be an exposition of Brownson's system of aesthetic principles.

If we speak of the beauty expressed in a work of art, this does not refer to any beauty of individual details, but applies rather to the work of art considered as a whole, in its totality (xix 3). A work of art is nothing if it is not a compact unity. Art, moreover, has 'higher requisites' than that of a presentation of mere beauty; and if the whole of an artistic production does not tend towards satisfying these higher requisites, it must be said to fail (xix 191). The primary object of art is not merely to present a work of art as such, but to move and to please by means of it (xix 228). Art thus addresses itself to human nature with the view of moving it to higher aspirations. To effect this the simple cognition of beauty is never sufficient (xix 123), and hence arises the mission of art as an impelling power, a mission beyond the mere presentation of beauty. Nor is it correct to say that art should aim merely at developing the natural powers of man, at 'the realization, so to speak, of the potentialities of human nature' (xix 109, 110). The

end of man lies higher than this, and the end of art, as was said above regarding literature, is the furtherance of the end of man. Thus the proper conception of art is inseparably connected with an end beyond that of mere beauty. Looking back

at all the old masterpieces of art, we find everywhere that there is an end beyond. 'Always does the artist seek to affect the minds or the hearts of his like, to move, persuade, convince, please, instruct, or enoble. To this end he chants a poem, composes a melody, laughs in a comedy, weeps in a tragedy, gives us an oration, a treatise, a picture, a statue, a temple' (xix 20).

2. THE BEAUTIFUL

The influence that a piece of art exerts on men is of highest importance, because through this influence does art attain its end. Generally speaking, art is nothing but the application of the knowledge of truth to life (xix 312-3). From this practical aspect is derived all the good in art, and all the evil consequent upon a false notion of aesthetics. It is not true at all that the general effect of all art is 'to liberate the mind,' that all art as such ennobles (xix 127). Only too many persons are well aware of the effect with which they can appeal to our lower nature through it. The art that tends to gratify perverse tendencies instead of tranquillizing passions is only too frequent. Beauty as such appeals directly not to our intellect or our will but to the sensibility alone; and it is only through the sensibility that it reaches will and intellect. Art either directs this sensibility towards what is good and true and thus promotes the moral and intellectual culture of men; or it directs the sensibility away from what is good and true, and in this way it tends to corrupt human nature. Although in the one case it is art as well as in the other, nevertheless only the former art can be recommended as healthy and useful to man (xix 126).

In order to obtain this first kind of art, it is of the greatest importance to realize that 'the beautiful is the form of the true,' than it cannot exist where the true is absent (xix 312). There is a kind of ideal truth to which all art must conform (xix 314). Likewise must a high spiritual or moral culture pervade a work

of art, else it will invariably tend to corrupt. As art must tend to uplift man, to introduce 'a better and nobler social order,' it is indispensable that false doctrines and unsound morals be eliminated; they are as repugnant to real beauty as is physical deformity (xix 53, 191, 318). Art will be genuine and true, a real embodiment of the beautiful, only when it elevates us above the region of mere sense into the realm of the intelligible world 'by exciting in us noble thoughts, lofty aspirations, and so charming the rational soul, the intellect and will, with spiritual truth and goodness, that the sensitive soul, so to speak, is for the time being overpowered and rendered unable to disturb us' (xix 321). To attain the truly beautiful, therefore, it is necessary that our aesthetics be firmly grounded in ethics and determined by the latter (xix 318).

Aesthetics needs ethics as a support. It will topple to the ground and grovel in the dirt without ethics. The claim of some persons, therefore, that aesthetics is a substitute for ethics, cannot be held. In art the beautiful, 'which affects the sensibility,' is apprehended by the intellect, and thus begets the sentiment of love. But further it cannot go; 'here begins and ends the whole influence of art' (xix 126). Hence follows the error in Schiller's contention, which claims for aesthetic culture alone the duty of lifting mankind to a higher order (xix 106, 109). Schiller recognizes well enough that exclusive development of the outer life leads to barbarism, and that exclusive confinement to the inner life can have no practical results in the outward condition of life; and he concludes rightly that the two must be combined. The third term that is to unite the inner life and the outward condition he finds to be the ideal of beauty, which thus has the office of saving mankind from barbarism on the one hand and from an unpractical intellectualism on the other, and of carrying him forward to his destiny (xix 106). But an ideal beauty of this nature Brownson cannot understand. As ideal, this beauty is unreal and cannot operate; it is therefore not capable of setting in motion the 'play-impulse' (xix 113). Nor is it able to realize itself, for it must be in a state of reality before it is capable of acting. (Ibid.) "The soul must have been liberated, the will elevated, its affections purified, by other than aesthetic influences, before aesthetic culture can aid moral progress' (xix 127); and aesthetics, far