tions of character. Accordingly, we may seek to discuss separately those attractions of character which appeal chiefly to the sympathetic activities, and those which gratify mainly through the activities of objective contemplation.

There are some attributes of human nature which appear to correspond pretty equally to both of the activities just mentioned. As an example of these, I would select Clearness or Transparency of character. I have remarked that the limits to our knowledge of others' minds, while they may sometimes cause a feeling of restraint, are more frequently the occasion of a new imaginative pleasure. But this does not imply that obscurity of character, in all its degrees, is aesthetically valuable. For, first of all, a certain measure of clearness in the expression of thought and feeling is a condition, both of sympathetic participation in these, and of a more intellectual appreciation of them. Hence the peculiar charm that belongs to all simple and frank natures. Perhaps this transparency of nature supplies a higher gratification to our sympathetic, than to our perceptive activities. A character too naked to view does not offer a sufficient stimulus to the intellectual powers. On the other hand, great candour of mind, and great freedom in the expression of feeling, supply a valuable condition for the quick, vibrating movements of sympathetic imagination.

Another aspect of character which appears to correspond both to the sympathetic and to the intellectual impulses, is Quantity of nature. The fuller and richer a mind is in all the elements of idea, feeling, and purpose, the greater area it offers, both for the intellectual discovery of interesting phases and relations, and for the activities of a lively sympathy. Not only so, but when a nature presents an unwonted measure of this fulness, it may become an interesting object solely on this ground. The special source of the charm in this instance appears to be a large addition to the observer's individual feeling, through the ample gratification of the sympathetic instinct. Such minds appear to present an exhilarating stimulus to quiet sympathetic observation, and to extend the narrow bounds of the observer's personal conscious life, by revealing to him a large variety of conceivable emotional experiences, which the events of his own individual history would not have afforded him. As a striking example of this effect of quantity or intensity of human nature, I may select the quick, emotional temperament, when accompanied by an active imagination and ample flow of ideas. Apart from the charm of the external movements which accom

pany great liveliness of mind, the very fulness of the revealed consciousness is an engaging object of contemplation. This interest, moreover, does not depend on the quality of the emotion exhibited, as pleasurable or painful, but it belongs alike to all varieties of exuberant feeling. When the play of feeling is least fettered by conventional restraints, it affords the surest form of this delight. It attaches itself, too, to all forms of active excitement, and is one chief ingredient in the pleasure which we derive from the spectacle of lively and vigorous youth. Such active natures interest us, further, through the scope they offer for imagination and sympathetic anticipation. In watching the varied activities of a lively, mobile lad, we derive a pleasure from tracing out in anticipation the many successive phases of his impulses and movements. In opposition to feeling and active impulse, intellectual activity has, for the most part, but little external impressiveness, and consequently is a less engaging object of contemplation. Lively fancy, that is, a certain rapidity of thought sustained by quick pulsations of feeling, is no doubt highly impressive. Indeed, whenever thought is directed to external objects, and manifests a certain vigour and velocity of movement, especially if it take the form of a quickness of sympathetic insight, it may become an attractive object. Even the spectacle of silent thought, as one sees it, for example, in the statue of the Reading Girl, may by its element of mystery stimulate an imaginative activity. At the same time it must be admitted, that the predominance of thought over feeling and action in a character serves to render it too self-contained and occult an object, and to disqualify it for affording a high degree of sympathetic interest.

We may now consider some of the special attractions of character which arise out of this process of sympathetic participation. One of the most striking of these, perhaps, is to be found in the æsthetic charm of all Joyous aspects of human nature. It follows from our conception of this ideal participation, that when a person witnesses the manifestation of a pleasurable feeling in another, he re-experiences, in an ideal form, some element of his own happiness; that is to say, his perception of another's joy is in itself a consciousness of joy. No doubt the first effect may be counteracted by subsequent reflection, as when one is displeased at the sight of an undeserving person's happiness; yet this fact does not disprove the tendency of the sympathetic impulse to rejoice in view of another's joy. For this reason the expression of painful

feeling is discouraged in refined society. It is looked upon as a point of good breeding, not only to hide all signs of annoyance, mortification, and constraint, but also to assume a uniform cheerfulness of manner. Even the charm of a benevolent action loses something, if it is unaccompanied by the signs of glad spontaneity. Further, a person is commonly esteemed an interesting object if he is largely susceptible of pleasurable impression. It is probable that the special aesthetic charm of some types of character reposes in part on a natural joyousness of temperament. While we derive pleasure from witnessing the acquired habit of suppressing the signs of pain and of expressing pleasurable feeling, we experience a much greater enjoyment in view of a natural and perfectly spontaneous disposition to gladness. The absence of everything like artificial restraint renders the spectacle a more perfect form of pleasure. Who has not felt the special charm which invests a happy, buoyant nature, ready to forget a pain and to dwell in the sunshine of content and hope? And who has not discovered a wonderful beauty in this joyous disposition conserved amid the ruins of a wrinkled old age, which it lights up with a serene smile? Hence we find that art has selected, as the permanent mental aspect of her gods and heroes, a deep, quiet gladness; and of these representations, the Greek Apollo "whose bright eye lends brightness, and never yet saw a shadow," will probably always remain first in the order of beauty.*

Such, then, are some of the principal attractions of character, which depend on the mind's ability to enter into a feeling of another through the medium of its outward expression. We may now pass to the consideration of that much larger order of æsthetic aspects of human nature which are mainly due, not to this play of sympathy, but to a certain measure of Intellectual activity. The amount of this perceptive activity may vary considerably in the several classes of aesthetic appreciation. Sometimes, the pleasure. afforded by a character requires very fine discrimination, and subtle processes of thought, as in many of the more refined impressions of At other times, the gratification follows instantaneously the observation of an obvious feature of character; and on this effect

art.

Mr. Carlyle has brought out this aspect of character in his Life of Sterling. So thoroughly "joyful, light and hoping a nature" was his, that even his religious feelings seemed to lack the element of terror. Next to this elasticity of spirit, the great charm of Sterling's character appears to have been his abundance of nature, his "infinite susceptivity."

depends the principal attraction of character for the less cultivated order of mind.

Beginning with the latter and simpler order of æsthetic perception, I may select, as a first example, those gratifications which arise from a recognition of the Amiable sides of human nature. The feeling of tenderness or love, in its widest sense, which is one of the most elementary of human sentiments, attaches itself in a special manner to our fellow-creatures, and is not directly evoked by unconscious material objects. We bestow the strongest degrees of this sentiment on a few persons only, who hold peculiarly intimate relations with us. Yet when the emotion is highly developed, it may be called forth in a quiet ideal activity by the mere spectacle of certain aspects of human nature. All the features of character which habitually excite this agreeable emotion come by association to wear the aspect of loveliness, and thus attain a new value for our æsthetic sensibilities.* Accordingly one finds that the amiable qualities of character have played a very conspicuous part in all the lighter and more popular varieties of fiction. This emotion may be called into activity, not only by external beauty, but also by proper mental qualities. Thus, for example, all manifestations of the joyous temperament are apt to excite ideal pulsations of tender regard. Every such radiation of gladness from a human mind appears to act, like a direct personal kindness, in prompting the beholder to a reciprocation of the delight received. Similarly, too, those moral excellences which distinctly imply a disposition to increase the pleasure of others, such as a spirit of self-sacrifice and a readiness to sympathise with others, call forth a mode of this emotional response in an observer. The feeling, further, may be awakened by the spectacle of pain in a fellow-creature, when, as a pleasurable emotion, it serves to soften the sympathetic pang which the witnessed suffering evokes. In this form of Pity, the sentiment of tender regard fills an important place in poetry and fiction. When the suffering exists only in possibility, and is faintly suggested by association, the sentiment of compassion combines with other pleasurable impressions in producing a very subtle mode of delight. Thus, the spectacle of untried innocence in youthful natures affords, along with the enjoy

Mr. Mill, in his famous essay on Bentham, distinguishes the lovable as a third aspect of actions co-ordinate with the aesthetic and the moral. But according to our present conception of æsthetic quality this separation is scarcely justifiable.

S

ment due to a recognition of a fresh, unblemished nature, an additional delight through the dim perception of the pathetic aspect of the object, through a faint realization of future exposures to an environment too harsh for its frail powers. A very true and delicate expression of this feeling may be found in Heine's exquisite song, beginning:

"Du bist wie eine Blume."

It may well seem an anomaly to refer, under the aesthetic aspects of character, to those qualities which awaken the very opposite sentiment of tenderness, namely, Animosity. This attribute of human nature appears to carry in its very name the mark of its banishment from the pleasing region of aesthetics; and it is no doubt true, that in actual life the exhibition of hateful qualities of mind is, in the majority of cases, more painful than interesting. Nevertheless, as we find that these attributes of human nature have been freely employed in the artistic construction of character, we need to inquire into the exact nature of the mental effect which they are fitted to produce. First of all, then, it is evident that any feature of character which excites a sentiment of antipathy must in some way offend our sensibility. The most common form of this offence is the injury of our moral and æsthetic feelings, such as our sense of right, and our feeling for fitness and naturalness. This first element of the impression is obviously anti-æsthetic, since it involves a distinct feeling of pain. Nevertheless, provided this painful aspect of a hateful quality does not wholly absorb the attention of the observer, its effect on the whole impression may be more than compensated for by other and more interesting aspects. It may be said that in looking on such a moral quality the mind of the observer supplies a solvent for the first painful impression. This neutralizing influence resides in the pleasurable emotional stimulation which accompanies the impulses of animosity and antipathy. When we have been annoyed by the disclosure of some repulsive side of human nature, we feel a strange, fascinating interest in the subject of these attributes. A nascent impulse of retaliation compensates us for the momentary pain; and our attention is fixed on the hateful object as a source of special interest. It is this impressive and detaining force in what is hateful that gives the more repulsive sides of character their æsthetic value in art. Even if the susceptibility to malevolent gratification is destined to die out with the progress of the race, one has to recognize its marked influence on all past productions of art.