In attempting this, however, I beg it may be understood, that I do not believe any system, based even upon the laws of nature, capable of forming a royal road to the perfection of art, or of “mapping the mighty maze of a creative mind.” At the same time, however, I must continue to reiterate the fact, that the diffusion of a general knowledge of the science of visible beauty will afford latent artistic genius just such a vantage ground as that which the general knowledge of philology diffused throughout this country affords its latent literary genius. Although _mere learning_ and _true genius_ differ as much in the practice of art as they do in the practice of literature, yet a precise and systematic education in the true science of beauty must certainly be as useful in promoting the practice and appreciation of the one, as a precise and systematic education in the science of philology is in promoting the practice and appreciation of the other. As all beauty is the result of harmony, it will be requisite here to remark, that harmony is not a simple quality, but, as Aristotle defines it, “the union of contrary principles having a ratio to each other.” Harmony thus operates in the production of all that is beautiful in nature, whether in the combinations, in the motions, or in the affinities of the elements of matter. The contrary principles to which Aristotle alludes, are those of uniformity and variety; for, according to the predominance of the one or the other of these principles, every kind of beauty is characterised. Hence the difference between symmetrical and picturesque beauty:—the first allied to the principle of uniformity, in being based upon precise laws that may be taught so as to enable men of ordinary capacity to produce it in their works—the second allied to the principle of variety often to so great a degree that they yield an obedience to the precise principles of harmony so subtilely, that they cannot be detected in its constitution, but are only felt in the response by which true genius acknowledges their presence. The generality of mankind may be capable of perceiving this latter kind of beauty, and of feeling its effects upon the mind, but men of genius, only, can impart it to works of art, whether addressed to the eye or the ear. Throughout the sounds, forms, and colours of nature, these two kinds of beauty are found not only in distinct developments, but in every degree of amalgamation. We find in the songs of some birds, such as those of the chaffinch, thrush, &c., a rhythmical division, resembling in some measure the symmetrically precise arrangements of parts which characterises all artistic musical composition; while in the songs of other birds, and in the other numerous melodies with which nature charms and soothes the mind, there is no distinct regularity in the division of their parts. In the forms of nature, too, we find amongst the innumerable flowers with which the