Whethertheeffectwiththegeneraliswhattheartistworksforornot，he，doesnotsucceedwithoutit。Theirbrutelikingormislikingisthefinaltest;itisuniversalsuffragethatelects，afterall。Only，insomecasesofthissortthepollsdonotcloseatfouro’clockonthefirstTuesdayafterthefirstMondayofNovember，butremainopenforever，andthevotinggoeson。Still，eventhefirstday’scanvassisimportant，oratleastsignificant。Itwillnotdofortheartisttoelectioneer，butifheisbeaten，heoughttoponderthecausesofhisdefeat，andquestionhowhehasfailedtotouchthechordofuniversalinterest。Heisintheworldtomakebeautyandtruthevidenttohisfellowmen，whoareasaruleincrediblystupidandignorantofboth，butwhosejudgmenthemustneverthelessnotdespise。Ifhecanmakesomethingthattheywillcheer，orsomethingthattheywillhiss，hemaynothavedoneanygreatthing，butifhehasmadesomethingthattheywillneithercheernorhiss，hemaywellhavehismisgivings，nomatterhowwell，howfinely，howtrulyhehasdonethething。
Thisisveryhumiliating，butatacitsnubtoone’sartist—pridesuchasonegetsfrompublicsilenceisnotabadthingforone。NotlongagoI
wastalkingaboutpictureswithapainter，averygreatpainter，tomythinking;onewhosepiecesgivemethesamefeelingIhavefromreadingpoetry;andIwasexcusingmyselftohimwithrespecttoart，andperhapsputtingonalittlemoremodestythanIfelt。IsaidthatIcouldenjoypicturesonlyontheliteraryside，andcouldgetnoanswerfrommysoultothoseexcellencesofhandlingandexecutionwhichseemchieflytointerestpainters。Herepliedthatitwasaconfessionofweaknessinapainterifheappealedmerelyormainlytotechnicalknowledgeinthespectator;thathenarrowedhisfieldanddwarfedhisworkbyit;andthatifhepaintedforpaintersmerely，orfortheconnoisseursofpainting，hewasdenyinghisoffice，whichwastosaysomethingclearandappreciabletoallsortsofmeninthetermsofart。Heeveninsistedthatapictureoughttotellastory。
Thedifficultyinhumblingone’sselftothisviewofartisintheeasewithwhichonemaypleasethegeneralbyartwhichisnoart。NeithertheplaynortheplayingthatIsawatthetheatrewhentheactorwashissedforthewickednessofthevillainhewaspersonating，wasatallfine;andyetIperceived，onreflection，thattheyhadachievedasupremeeffect。IfImaybesoconfidential，IwillsaythatIshouldbeverysorrytohavewrittenthatpiece;yetIshouldbeveryproudif，onthelevelIchoseandwiththequalityIcaredfor，Icouldinventavillainthatthepopulacewouldhaveoutandhissforhissurpassingwickedness。Inotherwords，Ithinkitathousandpitieswheneveranartistgetssofarawayfromthegeneral，sofarwithinhimselforalittlecircleofamateurs，thathishighestandbestworkawakensnoresponseinthemultitude。Iamafraidthisisratherthedangeroftheartsamongus，andhowtoescapeitisnotsoveryplain。Itmakesonesickandsorryoftentoseehowcheaplytheapplauseofthecommonpeopleiswon。Itisnotaninfallibletestofmerit，butifitiswantingtoanyperformance，wemaybeprettysureitisnotthegreatestperformance。
III。