nitely more than enough; for anchored mills on the large rivers, and
mills moved by sluices from reservoirs filled by the tide, will give you
command of any quantity of constant motive power you need.
Agriculture by the hand, then, and absolute refusal or banishment of
unnecessary igneous force, are the first conditions of a school of art
in any country. And until you do this, be it soon or late, things will
continue in that triumphant state to which, for want of finer art, your
mechanism has brought them;--that, though England is deafened with
spinning wheels, her people have not clothes--though she is black with
digging of fuel, they die of cold--and though she has sold her soul for
gain, they die of hunger. Stay in that triumph, if you choose; but be
assured of this, it is not one which the fine arts will ever share with
you.
124. Now, I have given you my message, containing, as I know, offence
enough, and itself, it may seem to many, unnecessary enough. But just in
proportion to its apparent non-necessity, and to its certain offence,
was its real need, and my real duty to speak it. The study of the fine
arts could not be rightly associated with the grave work of English
Universities, without due and clear protest against the misdirection of
national energy, which for the present renders all good results of such
study on a great scale, impossible. I can easily teach you, as any other
moderately good draughtsman could, how to hold your pencils, and how to
lay your colours; but it is little use my doing that, while the nation
is spending millions of money in the destruction of all that pencil or
colour has to represent, and in the promotion of false forms of art,
which are only the costliest and the least enjoyable of follies. And
therefore these are the things that I have first and last to tell you in
this place;--that the fine arts are not to be learned by Locomotion, but
by making the homes we live in lovely, and by staying in them;--that
the fine arts are not to be learned by Competition, but by doing our
quiet best in our own way;--that the fine arts are not to be learned by
Exhibition, but by doing what is right, and making what is honest,
whether it be exhibited or not;--and, for the sum of all, that men must
paint and build neither for pride nor for money, but for love; for love
of their art, for love of their neighbour, and whatever better love may
be than these, founded on these. I know that I gave some p
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