he
destruction of that war, a kind of disappointment seemed coming over us,
and the prophecies of some of the reactionists of past times seemed as if
they would come true, and a dull level of utilitarian comfort be the end
for a while of our aspirations and success. The loss of the competitive
spur to exertion had not, indeed, done anything to interfere with the
necessary production of the community, but how if it should make men dull
by giving them too much time for thought or idle musing? But, after all,
this dull thunder-cloud only threatened us, and then passed over.
Probably, from what I have told you before, you will have a guess at the
remedy for such a disaster; remembering always that many of the things
which used to be produced--slave-wares for the poor and mere
wealth-wasting wares for the rich--ceased to be made. That remedy was,
in short, the production of what used to be called art, but which has no
name amongst us now, because it has become a necessary part of the labour
of every man who produces."

Said I: "What! had men any time or opportunity for cultivating the fine
arts amidst the desperate struggle for life and freedom that you have
told me of?"

Said Hammond: "You must not suppose that the new form of art was founded
chiefly on the memory of the art of the past; although, strange to say,
the civil war was much less destructive of art than of other things, and
though what of art existed under the old forms, revived in a wonderful
way during the latter part of the struggle, especially as regards music
and poetry. The art or work-pleasure, as one ought to call it, of which
I am now speaking, sprung up almost spontaneously, it seems, from a kind
of instinct amongst people, no longer driven desperately to painful and
terrible over-work, to do the best they could with the work in hand--to
make it excellent of its kind; and when that had gone on for a little, a
craving for beauty seemed to awaken in men's minds, and they began rudely
and awkwardly to ornament the wares which they made; and when they had
once set to work at that, it soon began to grow. All this was much
helped by the abolition of the squalor which our immediate ancestors put
up with so coolly; and by the leisurely, but not stupid, country-life
which now grew (as I told you before) to be common amongst us. Thus at
last and by slow degrees we got pleasure into our work; then we became
conscious of that pleasure, and cultivated it, and