ing-point in art-production, and the artist's
difficulties and triumphs as a craftsman lie in the region of
technicalities. He knows, moreover, that, however deep or noble his
idea may be, his work of art will be worthless if it fail in skill
or be devoid of beauty. What converts a thought into a statue or
a picture, is the form found for it; and so the form itself seems
all-important. The artist, therefore, too easily imagines that he may
neglect his theme; that a fine piece of colouring, a well-balanced
composition, or, as Cellini put it, 'un bel corpo ignudo,' is enough.
And this is especially easy in an age which reflects much upon the
arts, and pursues them with enthusiasm, while its deeper thoughts and
feelings are not of the kind which translate themselves readily
into artistic form. But, after all, a fine piece of colouring, a
well-balanced composition, a sonorous stanza, a learned essay in
counterpoint, are not enough. They are all excellent good things,
yielding delight to the artistic sense and instruction to the student.
Yet when we think of the really great statues, pictures, poems, music
of the world, we find that these are really great because of something
more--and that more is their theme, their presentation of a noble
portion of the human soul. Artists and art-students may be satisfied
with perfect specimens of a craftsman's skill, independent of his
theme; but the mass of men will not be satisfied; and it is as wrong
to suppose that art exists for artists and art-students, as to talk
of art for art's sake. Art exists for humanity. Art transmutes thought
and feeling into terms of beautiful form. Art is great and lasting
in proportion as it appeals to the human consciousness at large,
presenting to it portions of itself in adequate and lovely form.

VI

It was necessary in the first place firmly to apprehend the truth that
the final end of all art is the presentation of a spiritual content;
it is necessary in the next place to remove confusions by considering
the special circumstances of the several arts.

Each art has its own vehicle of presentation. What it can present and
how it must present it, depends upon the nature of this vehicle. Thus,
though architecture, sculpture, painting, music, poetry, meet upon
the common ground of spiritualised experience--though the works of art
produced by the architect, sculptor, painter, musician, poet, emanate
from the spiritual nature of the race, are coloured