sculpture than after it. "Ah!" Victor Hugo says in his "William
Shakespeare," "You call yourself Dante, well! But that one calls
himself Homer. The beauty of art consists in not being susceptible of
improvement. A _chef d'oeuvre_ exists once and for ever. The first
Poet who arrives, arrives at the summit. From Pheidias to Rembrandt
there is no onward movement. A Savant may out-lustre a Savant, a Poet
never throws a Poet into the shade. Hippocrates is outrun, Archimides,
Paracelsus, Copernicus, Galileo, Newton, La Place, Pindar not;
Pheidias not. Pascal, the Savant, is out-run, Pascal, the Writer, not.
There is movement in art, but not progress. The Frescoes of the
Sistine Chapel are absolutely nothing to the Metopes of the Parthenon.
Retrace your steps as much as you like from the Palace of Versailles
to the Castle of Heidelberg. From the Castle of Heidelberg to the
Notre Dame of Paris. From the Notre Dame to the Alhambra. From the
Alhambra to St. Sophia. From St. Sophia to the Coliseum. From the
Coliseum to the Propyleans. You may recede with ages, you do not
recede in art. The Pyramids and the Iliad stand on a fore plan.
Masterpieces have the same level--the Absolute. Once the Absolute is
reached, all is reached." And Schopenhauer says, "Only true works of
art have eternal youth and enduring power like nature and life
themselves. For they belong to no age, but to humanity--they cannot
grow old, but appear to us ever fresh and new, down to the latest
ages." Let us disclaim then any such word as Modern in relation to
art, particularly in relation to a philosophy which has to do with the
principle and essence of art. Is a Philosophy of Art possible? There
must be some who will think it is impossible. Have we a philosophy
that explains such an apparently simple thing as how one knows
anything--or of simple consciousness? Every philosopher that has
attempted to explain consciousness or how we know, takes refuge in
assumptions. At any Philosophical Society, if you ask for the