would be permissible to inquire whether it was the forms themselves or
our perception of their rightness and necessity that caused aesthetic
emotion. But I do not think I need linger to discuss the matter here. I
have been inquiring why certain combinations of forms move us; I should
not have travelled by other roads had I enquired, instead, why certain
combinations are perceived to be right and necessary, and why our
perception of their rightness and necessity is moving. What I have to
say is this: the rapt philosopher, and he who contemplates a work of
art, inhabit a world with an intense and peculiar significance of its
own; that significance is unrelated to the significance of life. In
this world the emotions of life find no place. It is a world with
emotions of its own.

To appreciate a work of art we need bring with us nothing but a sense of
form and colour and a knowledge of three-dimensional space. That bit of
knowledge, I admit, is essential to the appreciation of many great
works, since many of the most moving forms ever created are in three
dimensions. To see a cube or a rhomboid as a flat pattern is to lower
its significance, and a sense of three-dimensional space is essential to
the full appreciation of most architectural forms. Pictures which would
be insignificant if we saw them as flat patterns are profoundly moving
because, in fact, we see them as related planes. If the representation
of three-dimensional space is to be called "representation," then I
agree that there is one kind of representation which is not irrelevant.
Also, I agree that along with our feeling for line and colour we must
bring with us our knowledge of space if we are to make the most of every
kind of form. Nevertheless, there are magnificent designs to an
appreciation of which this knowledge is not necessary: so, though it is
not irrelevant to the appreciation of some works of art it is not
essential to the appreciation of all. What we must say is that the