of something of the artistic temperament. People who do not love art,
yet study it from the outside, may contribute to our knowledge of it
through isolated bits of analysis, but their interpretations of its
more fundamental nature are always superficial. Hence, just as the
wise critic will not neglect aesthetics, so the philosopher of art
should be something of a critic. Yet the division of labor is clear
enough. The critic devotes himself to the appreciation of some special
contemporary or historical field of art--Shakespearean drama,
Renaissance sculpture, Italian painting, for example; while the
philosopher of art looks for general principles, and gives attention
to individual works of art and historical movements only for the purpose
of discovering and illustrating them. And, since the philosopher of
art seeks a universal idea of art rather than an understanding of this
or that particular work of art, an intimate acquaintance with a few
examples, through which this idea can be revealed to the loving eye,
is of more importance than a wide but superficial aesthetic culture.

In our discussion thus far, we have been assuming the possibility of
aesthetic theory. But what shall we say in answer to the mystic who
tells us that beauty is indefinable? First of all, I think, we should
remind him that his own thesis can be proved or refuted only through
an attempt at a scientific investigation of beauty. Every attempt to
master our experience through thought is an adventure; but the futility
of adventures can be shown only by courageously entering into them.
And, although the failure of previous efforts may lessen the
probabilities of success in a new enterprise, it cannot prove that
success is absolutely impossible. Through greater persistence and
better methods the new may succeed where the old have failed. Moreover,
although we are ready to grant that the pathway to our goal is full
of pitfalls, marked by the wreckage of old theories, yet we claim that