; it is by
this that the practice of his craft strengthens and matures his
character; it is for this that even the serious countenance of the great
emperor was turned approvingly (if only for a moment) on the followers
of Apollo, and that sternly gentle voice bade the artist cherish his
art.

And here there fall two warnings to be made. First, if you are to
continue to be a law to yourself, you must beware of the first signs of
laziness. This idealism in honesty can only be supported by perpetual
effort; the standard is easily lowered, the artist who says "_It will
do_," is on the downward path; three or four pot-boilers are enough at
times (above all at wrong times) to falsify a talent, and by the
practice of journalism a man runs the risk of becoming wedded to cheap
finish. This is the danger on the one side; there is not less upon the
other. The consciousness of how much the artist is (and must be) a law
to himself debauches the small heads. Perceiving recondite merits very
hard to attain, making or swallowing artistic formulae, or perhaps
falling in love with some particular proficiency of his own, many
artists forget the end of all art: to please. It is doubtless tempting
to exclaim against the ignorant bourgeois; yet it should not be
forgotten, it is he who is to pay us, and that (surely on the face of
it) for services that he shall desire to have performed. Here also, if
properly considered, there is a question of transcendental honesty. To
give the public what they do not want, and yet expect to be supported:
we have there a strange pretension, and yet not uncommon, above all with
painters. The first duty in this world is for a man to pay his way; when
that is quite accomplished, he may plunge into what eccentricity he
likes; but emphatically not till then. Till then, he must pay assiduous
court to the bourgeois who carries the purse. And if in the course of
these capitulations he shall falsify his talent, it can never have been
a strong one, and he will have preserved a better thing than
talent--character. Or if he be of a mind so independent that he cannot
stoop to this necessity, one course is yet open: he can desist from art,
and follow some more manly way of life.

I speak of a more manly way of life; it is a point on which I must be
frank. To live by a pleasure is not a high calling; it involves
patronage, however veiled; it numbers the artist, however ambitious,
along with dancing girls and billiard-mar