e thing has come into a
congestion and a kind of difficulty.

The artistic temperament is a disease that afflicts amateurs. It is a
disease which arises from men not having sufficient power of expression
to utter and get rid of the element of art in their being. It is
healthful to every sane man to utter the art within him; it is
essential to every sane man to get rid of the art within him at all
costs. Artists of a large and wholesome vitality get rid of their art
easily, as they breathe easily, or perspire easily. But in artists of
less force, the thing becomes a pressure, and produces a definite pain,
which is called the artistic temperament. Thus, very great artists are
able to be ordinary men--men like Shakespeare or Browning. There are
many real tragedies of the artistic temperament, tragedies of vanity or
violence or fear. But the great tragedy of the artistic temperament is
that it cannot produce any art.

Whistler could produce art; and in so far he was a great man. But he
could not forget art; and in so far he was only a man with the artistic
temperament. There can be no stronger manifestation of the man who is
a really great artist than the fact that he can dismiss the subject of
art; that he can, upon due occasion, wish art at the bottom of the sea.
Similarly, we should always be much more inclined to trust a solicitor
who did not talk about conveyancing over the nuts and wine. What we
really desire of any man conducting any business is that the full force
of an ordinary man should be put into that particular study. We do not
desire that the full force of that study should be put into an ordinary
man. We do not in the least wish that our particular law-suit should
pour its energy into our barrister's games with his children, or rides
on his bicycle, or meditations on the morning star. But we do, as a
matter of fact, desire that his games with his children, and his rides
on his bicycle, and his meditations on the morning star should pour
something of their energy into our law-suit. We do desire that if he
has gained any especial lung development from the bicycle, or any
bright and pleasing metaphors from the morning star, that the should be
placed at our disposal in that particular forensic controversy. In a
word, we are very glad that he is an ordinary man, since that may help
him to be an exceptional lawyer.

Whistler never ceased to be an artist. As Mr. Max Beerbohm pointed out
in one of his extra