things as objects given to us for study, much as plants and animals
are given to the biologist. Just as the biologist watches the behavior
of his specimens, analyzes them into their various parts and functions,
and controls his studies through carefully devised experiments, arriving
at last at a clear notion of what a plant or an animal is--at a
definition of life; so the student of aesthetics observes works of art
and other well-recognized beautiful things, analyzes their elements
and the forms of connection of these, arranges experiments to facilitate
and guard his observations from error and, as a result, reaches the
general idea for which he is looking,--the idea of beauty.

A vast material presents itself for study of this kind: the artistic
attempts of children and primitive men; the well-developed art of
civilized nations, past and present, as creative process and as
completed work; and finally, the everyday aesthetic appreciations of
nature and human life, both by ourselves and by the people whom we
seek out for study. Each kind of material has its special value. The
first has the advantage of the perspicuity which comes from simplicity,
similar for our purposes to the value of the rudimentary forms of life
for the biologist. But this advantage of early art may be overestimated;
for the nature of beauty is better revealed in its maturer
manifestations, even as the purposes of an individual are more fully,
if not more clearly, embodied in maturity than in youth or childhood.

Yet a purely objective method will not suffice to give us an adequate
idea of beauty. For beautiful things are created by men, not passively
discovered, and are made, like other things which men make, in order
to realize a purpose. Just as a saw is a good saw only when it fulfills
the purpose of cutting wood, so works of art are beautiful only because
they embody a certain purpose. The beautiful things which we study by