tions of these respective arts in no way warrants them in being called "fine.' Fine art consists not merely in technical address; and yet there is a certain perfection of virtuosity so intelligent, displaying such a rectitude of taste, and such a refined instinct for the fitness of things, that it is pleasure-giving to the degree of becoming æsthetic. Through "the happy and dexterous way in which a thing slight in itself is handled" it may become an object of 'fine art.' Material subjects also may serve as acceptable themes for the fine arts, if treated with such fitness that they do not offend the æsthetic sense. Veronese apotheosized the subject of feasting, a low and material theme in itself. His, or any painter's, success in problems of this kind is a sign of the artist. True artists perceive the limitations of their art and never overstep them; and, indeed, fine art has to-day become synonymous with the exercise of fine taste in many departments of mental effort and individual handicraft.
It is very evident that the production of a work of high art which requires great abstraction of mind could never have occurred in the early and savage period of the human race. That was a period of self-preservation and a fight for mere existence. As time went on and life became more complex, there was leisure for the mind to employ itself in other matters; and with the complete emancipation of the human intellect, such as exists to-day, there has come an imperative demand for expression in a language that is as potent as that of uttered speech — the beautiful and universal language of art. In painting, its vocabulary is form and color; but these, in fine art, must be so used as to express the ideas and emotions excited in the artist by things seen. Imitation merely will not do this, so the artist must make use of seen things to denote certain attitudes of mind and emotions of the soul. A work of art must not so far stray from truthful representation as to irritate the mind of the beholder by its offenses against structural truth, but, on the other hand, art is not achieved through strict imitation. Art is many-sided — the æsthetic sensibilities are touched in such a variety of ways that it is somewhat difficult to fix definitely the channels through which painting and sculpture may legitimately reach the human mind and still rest within the limitations that these mediums exact on the part of the producer. It is certain, however, that the beholder of a painting or statue should receive the impression of a mind employing the materials of a particular craft with perfect control and judgment, of a mind dominated by such taste that the language — that is to say, the medium used — is made to voice ideas that are better expressed by such means than by any other. Hence, the objection to so-called 'literary' art, or 'story-telling' art, in pigment and in clay. Subjects which are more effectively rendered through verbal form, and which, to be understood pictorially, require a page of explanatory notes, are not so pleasure-giving, in the graphic arts, as those which immediately strike the mind, through the eye, by their elevation of sentiment and the opportunity they afford the artist for noble lines and charming qualities of paint. Both these arts are, as has been said, imitative; but the true artist recognizes in the exercise of his craft to what point his imitation of nature may legitimately carry him. This knowledge may be revealed to him by the consideration of the class of emotions it is his intention to excite. Consult: Harris, Theory of the Arts (London, 1869); Frothingham, in American Journal of Archæology, vol. IX. (1894); Taine, Lectures on Art (New York, 1899); Lange, Das Wesen der Kunst (Berlin, 1901); von Kunowski, Schöpferische Kunst (Leipzig, 1902); Noyes, The Enjoyment of Art (Boston, 1903). See also the Bibliography of Æsthetics.
ART, History of. The monuments produced by the artistic faculty represent in the most concrete form the different stages and kinds of human activity on its more ideal side, and are intimately connected with the two other main spheres of science and industry, to whose products art is often called upon to lend beauty and interest. Within the sphere of art itself, the social arts of religion, philosophy, and government supply not only the literary arts, but also the formative arts of architecture, sculpture, and painting, with their themes and their inspiration, without which works of art would have little importance in the development of civilization. The fine arts, in order to attain a high standard, must therefore embody some higher idea. A Greek temple, a Gothic cathedral, a Mohammmedan mosque, a Benedictine monastery, a triumphal arch, an amphitheatre, a Roman villa, a feudal castle, represent religious and social forces, above and beyond fine art, which mold these monuments so that they are part of the larger life. The form, arrangement, decoration, and purpose of such buildings are no part of 'art for art's sake.' So it is with works of sculpture and painting — with a Phidian Zeus, a Byzantine Christ, a Cimabue Madonna borne in triumphant procession, an Immaculate Conception by Murillo. Greek mythology and Christian dogma are as much embodied in art as in literature; art has been regarded for as many millenniums as a means of teaching as it has been for centuries as a means of pleasing. The fact, therefore, that works of art, though produced under their own special organic laws, are governed by the general laws of the civilization to which they belong, brings, as a necessary consequence, the result that these works, like everything else in civilization, are a mixture of good and evil, true and false, and that the customary æsthetic opinion that beauty alone is the aim of art is contradicted by both theory and practice. Such a standard could not be applied to the novel or the drama in literature, as it would eliminate a majority of masterpieces; neither can it be applied in art. Any work that has a distinct significance and character is artistic, whether its theme is moral or immoral, its form beautiful or ugly, and whether it is inspired by a sentiment of the grotesque, the deformed, and the fearsome, or of the sublime and the beautiful. It is from this point of view that the articles in this Encyclopædia have been written.
A study of the history of art will show that through the four thousand or more years during which such works were produced before the Fifth Century B.C., the æsthetic pleasure they gave was practically independent of the human figure and was dependent, on effects of color and material forms. The exquisite appreciation of color among the peoples of western Asia and the grandiose combinations of architectural lines and masses among the Egyptians were the keynotes
