he material fashioned by an industrious hand, it had the power
of BECOMING, and society has given it BEING. Shall the vase say to the
potter, "I am that I am, and I owe you nothing"?

The artist, the savant, and the poet find their just recompense in the
permission that society gives them to devote themselves exclusively to
science and to art: so that in reality they do not labor for themselves,
but for society, which creates them, and requires of them no other duty.
Society can, if need be, do without prose and verse, music and painting,
and the knowledge of the movements of the moon and stars; but it cannot
live a single day without food and shelter.

Undoubtedly, man does not live by bread alone; he must, also (according
to the Gospel), LIVE BY THE WORD OF GOD; that is, he must love the
good and do it, know and admire the beautiful, and study the marvels of
Nature. But in order to cultivate his mind, he must first take care of
his body,--the latter duty is as necessary as the former is noble. If it
is glorious to charm and instruct men, it is honorable as well to feed
them. When, then, society--faithful to the principle of the division
of labor--intrusts a work of art or of science to one of its members,
allowing him to abandon ordinary labor, it owes him an indemnity for
all which it prevents him from producing industrially; but it owes him
nothing more. If he should demand more, society should, by refusing his
services, annihilate his pretensions. Forced, then, in order to live, to
devote himself to labor repugnant to his nature, the man of genius would
feel his weakness, and would live the most distasteful of lives.

They tell of a celebrated singer who demanded of the Empress of Russia
(Catherine II) twenty thousand roubles for his services: "That is more
than I give my field-marshals," said Catherine. "Your majesty," replied
the other, "has only to make singers of her field-marshals."

If France (more powerful than Catherine II) should say to Mademoiselle
Rachel, "You must act for one hundred louis, or else spin cotton;" to
M. Duprez, "You must sing for two thousand four hundred francs, or else
work in the vineyard,"--do you think that the actress Rachel, and the
singer Duprez, would abandon the stage? If they did, they would be the
first to repent it.

Mademoiselle Rachel receives, they say, sixty thousand francs annually
from the Comedie-Francaise. For a talent like hers, it is a slight fee.
Why not one hu