ive commodiously and well.
They want not merely a roof over their heads, but a pleasant
and comfortable house in which to live. They want not
merely something to stave off starvation, but palatable foods.
In the satisfaction of these increasingly complicated demands
a great diversity of industries arises. With every new want to
be fulfilled, there is a new occupation, pursued not for its own
sake, but for the sake of the good which it produces. There
are industrial leaders, of course, who find in the development
and control of the productive energies of thousands of men,
in the manipulation of immense natural resources, satisfactions
analogous to that of the fine artist. But for most
men engaged in the routine operations of industry, the work
they do is clearly not pursued on its own account. Industry,
viewed in the total context of the activities of civilization,
is a practical rather than a fine art. Its ideal is efficiency,
which means economy of effort. Its interest is primarily in
producing many goods cheaply.

THE EMERGENCE OF THE FINE ARTS. In the sharp struggle of
man with his environment, those instincts survived which
were of practical use. The natural impulses with which a
human being is at birth endowed, are chiefly those which
enable him to cope successfully and efficiently with his
environment. But even in primitive life, so exuberant and resilient
is human energy that it is not exhausted by necessary labors.
The plastic arts, for example, began in the practical business
of pottery and weaving. The weaver and the potter who
have acquired skill and who have a little more vitality than
is required for turning out something that is merely useful,
turn out something that is also beautiful. The decorations
which are made upon primitive pottery exhibit the excess
vitality and skill of the virtuoso. Similarly, religious ritual,
which, as we have seen, arises in practical commerce with
the gods, comes to be in itself cherished and beautiful. The
chants which are prescribed invocations of divinity, become
songs intrinsically interesting to singer and listener alike; the
dance ceases to be merely a necessary religious form and becomes
an occasion of beauty and delight. Jane Harrison has
shown in detail how ritual arises out of practical need, and
art out of ritual.[1] Thus the Greek drama had its beginnings
in Greek religion; the incidental beauty of the choruses of
the Greek festivals developed into the eventu