enter into us, possess us in a way of its own. The great bond of
similarity between all the arts is their having this _possessing_
power, this revelation of ideas, in whatever form they are expressed.
Rafael in the exquisite outline of the peasant girl's face, saw
without conscious effort the vision of maternity, as the perfect
form of the Madonna della Seggiola rose before him. This is
idealism--seeing the idea in the object of contemplation. And the
spectator, gazing at the picture, also without consciousness of
effort, is moved into "a passionate tenderness, which he knows not
whether he has given to heavenly beauty or earthly charm"; he feels
motherhood, and to quote again Mr. Henry James in "The Madonna of the
Future," he is intoxicated with the fragrance of the "tenderest
blossom of maternity that ever bloomed on earth." Critics may question
its manner, method and style; but the art lover feels its "graceful
humanity," he does not "praise, or qualify, or measure or explain, or
account for"--he is one with its loveliness--one with the purity and
the truth of the ideal which it represents.

This may explain something of the attitude towards art in
Schopenhauer's philosophy, though to reproduce and exemplify thought
is always difficult, and abstract philosophical thought is especially
so. The real comprehension of a philosopher's mind depends mainly on
how far we are able to get into the atmosphere of his thought; it
depends upon affinity in fact, and this is why philosophy must be the
study, mainly, of the lonely thinker. Explainers and lecturers
necessarily intrude their own individualities into their explanations,
which have to be discounted. Yet when discounted, certain
individualities do help us in philosophy, and even in poetry. Some
minds may be more akin with the philosopher's or poet's than are our
own, and a thought will become more vivid and clear to us, and a poem