is only imperfectly realized in many works of art. Many a poet finds
it necessary to fill in his lines and many a painter and musician does
the like with his pictures or compositions. There is much mere
scaffolding and many lay-figures in drama and novel. But the work of
the masters is different. There each line or stroke or musical phrase,
each character or incident, is unique or meaningful. The greatest
example of this is perhaps the _Divine Comedy_, where each of the
hundred cantos and each line of each canto is perfect in workmanship
and packed with significance. There is, of course, a limit to this
elaboration of the parts, set by the demands for unity and wholeness.
The individuality of the elements must not be so great that we rest
in them severally, caring little or nothing for their relations to one
another and to the whole. The contribution of this principle is
richness. Unity in variety gives wholeness; dominance, order;
equilibrium, wealth, interest, vitality.

The structure of works of art is even more complicated than would
appear from the description given thus far. For there is not only the
unity of the elements among themselves, but between the two aspects
of each element and of the whole--the form and content. This--the unity
between the sense medium and whatever of thought and feeling is embodied
in it--is the fundamental unity in all expression. It is the unity
between a word and its meaning, a musical tone and its mood, a color
and shape and what they represent. Since, however, it is indispensable
to all expression, it is not peculiar to art. And to a large extent,
even in the creative work of the artist, this unity is given, not made;
the very materials of the artist consisting of elementary
expressions--words, tones, colors, space-forms--in which the unity of
form and content has already been achieved, either by an innate
psycho-physical process, as is the case with tones and simple rhythms,