Thus far, then, said he, we have advanced with tolerable We have gained some idea of art, and some idea of its

subject. Our inquiry, on the whole, has informed us, that art is "an habitual power in man of becoming a certain cause ;" and that its subject is, "every such contingent nature, which lies within the reach of the human powers to influence."

III. It is true, said I, this appears to have been the result of our inquiry, and a full and ample one it seems to have been.A long one, replied he, if you please, but not a full and ample one.-Can any thing, said I, be wanting, after what you have said already?-Certainly, replied he, a great deal. We have talked much, indeed, of art, considered as a cause; and much of the subject on which it operates; but what moves these operations to commence, and where it is they end, these are topics

which we have, as yet, little thought of. I begged him, then, that we might now consider them.

He was willing, he said, for his part, and immediately went on, by asking, what I thought was the beginning of art?-I mean, said he, by beginning, that cause for the sake of which it operates, and which being supposed away, men would be never moved to follow it."-To this, I told him, I was unable to answer. You will not think it, said he, so difficult, when you have a little more considered. Reflect with yourself: was it not the absence of health which excited men to cultivate the art of medicine?-I replied, it was.-What, then, said he, if the human body had been so far perfect and self-sufficient, as never to have felt the vicissitudes of well and ill; would not, then, this art have been wholly unknown?-I replied, I thought it would. And what, said he, if we extend this perfection a degree further, and suppose the body not only thus healthful, but withal so robust, as to have felt no uneasiness from all inclemencies of weather: would not, then, the arts of building also, and clothing, have been as useless as that of medicine? I replied, it seemed they would.-But what, said he, if we bound not this perfection of ours even here?-What if we

As the cause here spoken of, is that cause usually called final, it may be asked, how it comes in this place to be considered as a beginning. The answer is, that what comes last in practice, stands in theory first; or, in other words, the order of ideas in the intellect of the artist is exactly inverted, with respect to the order of his energies.

Thus Ammonius: Kalóλov yàp Tĥs μèv θεωρίας τὸ τέλος γίγνεται ἀρχὴ τῆς πράξεως· ἔμπαλιν δὲ τῆς πράξεως τὸ τέλος, ἀρχὴ τῆς θεωρίας. οἷον ὁ Οἰκοδόμος, ἐπιταγεὶς οἶκον, λέγει καθ' ἑαυτὸν, ἐπετάγην οἶκον ποιῆσαι· ὅπέρ ἐστι σκέπασμα, κωλυτικὸν ὄμβρων καὶ καυμάτων· τοῦτο δὲ οὐκ ἂν γένοιτο, μὴ γινομένης ὀροφῆς. Ἐντεῦ θεν οὖν ἄρχεται τῆς θεωρίας. προβαίνων δὲ φησίν· Αλλα τοῦτο οὐκ ἂν γένοιτο, μὴ γινομένων τοίχων· οὗτοι δὲ οὐκ ἂν γένοιντο, μὴ ὑποβληθέντων θεμελίων· οἱ δὲ θεμελίοι οὐκ ἂν βληθεῖεν, μὴ ὀρυχθείσης τῆς γῆς. ἐνταῦθα κατέληξεν ἡ θεωρία. Εντεῦθεν οὖν ἄρχεται ἡ πρᾶξις. πρότερον γὰρ ὀρύττει τὴν γῆν εἶθ ̓ οὕτω βάλλει τὸν θεμέλιον· εἶτα ἐγείρει τοίχους· καὶ ὕστερον ἐπιτί θησι τὴν ὀροφὴν, ἥτίς ἐστι τέλος τῆς πράξεως. ἡ δ ̓ ἀρχὴ τῆς πράξεως, τέλος τῆς θεωpías. 'Aμμ. ets Kaтny. p. 15. edit. Ven. 8vo. "For in general the end of theory is the beginning of practice; and so reciprocally, the end of practice, the beginning of theory. Thus, for instance: an architect, being ordered to build a house, says to himself, I am ordered to build a house; that is to

say, a certain defence, to protect against the rains and the heats. But this cannot be, without a roof or covering. From this point, therefore, he begins his theory. He proceeds and says-but there can be no roof, if there be no walls; and there can be no walls, without some foundations; nor can there be laid foundations, without opening the earth. At this point, the theory is at an end. Hence, therefore, commences the practice, or action. For, first, he opens the earth; then lays the foundation ; then raises the walls; and, lastly, puts on the roof, which is the end of the action or practice, [but beginning of the theory,] as the beginning of the practice was the end of the theory.” See also Arist. Ethic. l. iii. c. 3. et de Anima, l. iii. c. 3.

i Vide Platon. de Rep. 1. i. vol. ii. p. 341. edit. Serrani. "Ωσπερ (ἔφην ἐγὼς εἴ με ἔροιο εἰ ἐξαρκεῖ σώματι, εἶναι σώματι, ἢ προσδεῖται τίνος· εἴποιμ ̓ ἂν, ὅτι παντάπασι μὲν οὖν προσδεῖται. διὰ ταῦτα καὶ ἡ τέχνη ἐστὶν ἰατρικὴ νῦν εὐρεμένη, ὅτι σῶμα ἐστι πονηρὸν, καὶ οὐκ ἐξαρκεῖ αὐτῷ τοιούτῳ εἶναι. "Quemadmodum, inquam, si a me quæreres, an satis sit corpori, ut sit corpus, an alia quapiam re indigeat: responderem, omnino indigere. Atque hac quidem de causa medicinæ ars nunc est inventa, quoniam corpus per se profligatum est, neque ipsi satis est, ut sit hujusmodi." So, likewise, the acute Scaliger: "Motionis enim appetentia causa est; appetentiæ, privatio." De Caus. L. Lat. 1. xv. c. 114.

suppose, that not only things merely necessary, but that those also conducive to elegance and enjoyment, were, of course, all implied in the constitution of human nature; that they were all steady, constant, and independent from without, and as inseparable from our being, as perspiring, or circulation: in such case, would not the arts of music, painting, and poetry, with every other art passing under the denomination of elegant, have been as useless as we have held those others of medicine, clothing, and architecture?—I replied, it seemed they would. It was, then, the absence of joys, elegancies, and amusements from our constitution, as left by nature, which induced us to seek them in these arts of elegance and entertainment.-It was.-And what, said he, are joys, elegancies, amusements, health, robustness, with those several other objects of desire, whose absence leads to art, but so many different names of that complex being called "Good," under its various, and multiform, and popular appearances?—I replied, it seemed so.

If this, then, said he, be granted, it should seem that the beginning, or principle of art, was the absence of something thought good; because it has appeared that it is for the sake of some such absent good that every art operates; and because, if we suppose no such absence to have been, we should never have known any art.-I confess, said I, it seems so.

But how, then, continued he, if it be true that all art implies such principle, is it reciprocally true that every such principle should imply art?—I see no reason, said I, why not.Consider, said he. It might be thought a good by some, perhaps, to be as strong as those horses which are ploughing yonder field; to be as tall as those elms, and of a nature as durable yet would the absence of goods, like these, lead to art? Or is it not absurd to suppose there should be an art of impossibilities?*-Absurd, said I, certainly. If so, said he, when we define the beginning or principle of art, it is not enough to call it the absence of something thought good, unless we add, that the good be a good possible; "a thing attainable by man; a thing relative to human life, and consistent with human nature:" or does not this, also, appear a requisite ?—I replied, I thought it did.

But still, continued he, is it a sufficient motive to art, that the good desired should be attainable? In other words, does every absence of good attainable lead to art? or is our account

*What is here said concerning the difference between those things for which we may possibly wish, and those which we actually pursue, is expressed in the Ethics of Aristotle, l. iii. c. 2. Пpoaípeσis μèv yàp οὐκ ἔστι τῶν ἀδυνάτων, καὶ εἴ τις φαίη προαιρεῖσθαι, δοκοίη ἂν ἠλίθιος εἶναι. βού λησις δ ̓ ἐστὶ τῶν ἀδυνάτων, οἷον ἀθανασίας.

"There is, indeed, no determined choice of action with respect to things impossible; and if any one should say he had so determined, he would appear to be a fool. But there may be a willing, or longing after things impossible; as, for instance, never to die."

still too loose, and in need of stricter determination ?-Of none, said I, which appears to me.-Reflect, said he; there are some of the possible goods so obvious and easy, that every man, in an ordinary state of common natural perfection, is able to acquire them, without labour or application. You will hardly deny, but that a fair apple, tempting to eat, may be gathered; or a clear spring, tempting to drink, may be drank at, by the mere suggestions of will and uninstructed instinct.'-I granted, they might. It would be therefore impertinent, said he, to suppose that goods, like these, should lead to art, because art would be superfluous, and in no respect necessary. Indeed, said I, it

seems so.

If, therefore, said he, neither impossibles lead to art, because of such there can be no art; nor things easily possible, because in such nature can do without art: what is it we have left, to which we may refer it? Or can it indeed be to any other than to that middle class of things, which, however possible, are still not so easy, but to be beyond the powers of will, and instinct uninstructed?-I replied, it seemed so.-That there are many such things, said he, is evident, past doubt. For what man would pay artists so largely for their arts, were he enabled by nature to obtain whatever he desired? Or who would study to be skilled in arts, were nature's original powers to be of themselves alone sufficient?-I told him, it was not likely.

It should seem, then, said he, according to this reasoning, that the beginning, motive, or principle of art; that cause, which first moves it to action, and for the sake of which its several operations are exerted, is "the want or absence of something appearing good; relative to human life, and attainable by man, but superior to his natural and uninstructed faculties.""—I

1“ Will,” βούλησις, οι ὄρεξις λογισTh: "uninstructed instinct," opeķis àλóγιστος. See before, note c.

The cause here described is the rò o evera, or "final."-Aristotle, in his Physics, 1. ii. c. 3. in enumerating the various sorts of causes, reckons amongst the rest, rò d' ὡς τὸ τέλος, καὶ τ ̓ ἀγαθὸν τῶν ἄλλων. τὸ γὰρ οὗ ἕνεκα βέλτιστον, καὶ τέλος τῶν ἄλλων ἐθέλει εἶναι : “ to these may be added that cause, which is considered as the end and good of all the rest. For that, for whose sake all the others are deemed necessary, has just pretensions to be best, and to be the end of them all." To this he subjoins, consonant to what is said in the Dialogue, διαφερέτω δὲ μηδὲν αὐτὸ εἰπεῖν ἀγαθὸν ἢ φαινόμενον ἀγαθόν: “let it make no difference whether we call this end, real good, or only apparent good." So in the beginning of his Ethics: Πᾶσα τέχνη, καὶ πᾶσα μέθοδος, ὁμοίως δὲ πρᾶξίς τε καὶ προαίρεσις ἀγαθοῦ τινος ἐφίεσθαι δοκεῖ.

Διὸ καλῶς ἀπεφῄναντο τ ̓ ἀγαθὸν, οὗ πάντα ¿piera: "every art, and every orderly speculation, so likewise every action, and determined choice of pursuit, appear all of them to tend toward some good. Well therefore have they pronounced 'good' to be that toward which all things tend." See also Plat. in Gorg. vol. i. p. 499. Ε. edit. Serrami.

In the definition here treated, the words "relative to human life" express that part of the Stoic definition of art [πpòs TI TÉλos εύχρηστον τῶν ἐν τῷ βίῳ.] They were omitted in the definition, pages 8, 9, as more properly belonging to the present definition, which respects art in its final cause. See note /.

That what is perfect and self-sufficient is above the secondary helps of art; that our own weakness and insufficiency, and the prospect of procuring that absent good, by which we all hope to supply ourselves, where deficient ; that this is the source not