The Sense of the Beautiful in Brutes [pp. 126-142]

136 THE SENSE OF THE [January,
is that the animal shows itself sensible to the vocal seductions
of its mates only at the epoch of (coupling, that is, at a precise
and particular period of the year.
The notice which brutes take of color furnishes food for the
same reflections. To speak only of birds, which, according to
Mr. Darwin, are as good judges of color as elegant women and
skilful modistes, how much restricted is this faculty in them?
For example, do we ever see the male peacocks admiring each
other as men do on occasions? Do we ever see the females contemplating one another with pleasure and carrying impartiality
so far as to render justice to the beauty of their rivals? Do we
ever find a goose in ecstacy over the magnificence of the pheasant or the royal elegance of the swan? No; the bird, the insect, the quadruped, are moved by the display of color, if at all,
only in their own species, in the one sex and at the moment
which each recognizes. How can we help perceiving in this one
of those radical differences which forbid all identification of
facts? It must be added that, at the very moment when nature
speaks with irresistible force, beauty is many times despised, if
it is necessary to wait for it or seek it, and ugliness quickly appropriated, if it is ready at hand. A graver case still is that in
which the male, after the union, is pitilessly sacrificed. Admiration short-lived and more than doubtful, which tends only to
coupling and does not survive it; admiration deprived of that
characteristic of generality which is the intellectual element of
admiration!
Go farther; complete the examination. Place the animal be fore a work of art which is a life-like representation of its male
or female. There were some of these perfect reproductions in
the studios of the old masters; there are more in the modern
museums and halls of exposition. It is said that the mares
neighed in passing before the horses painted by Apelles. A dog
would perhaps stop before the hunting pieces of Oudry, if the
pictures were placed on the ground, within reach of its look.
It would draw near, examine, question the canvas for a moment
with its keen scent. and that would be all. Yet what is there in
the picture? Precisely the element worthy of admiration,
namely, the expression of life by the aid of its most striking
colors, and its most perfect and most general forms. What is
this marvel to the quadruped spectator? It is not the expres