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incident； to exercise authority in the matter； to give their views；
and not merely to give their views； but to carry them into action；
to dictate to the man upon all other points； to dictate to his
party； to dictate to his country； in fact； to make themselves
ridiculous； offensive； and harmful。 The private lives of men and
women should not be told to the public。 The public have nothing to
do with them at all。 In France they manage these things better。
There they do not allow the details of the trials that take place
in the divorce courts to be published for the amusement or
criticism of the public。 All that the public are allowed to know
is that the divorce has taken place and was granted on petition of
one or other or both of the married parties concerned。 In France；
in fact； they limit the journalist； and allow the artist almost
perfect freedom。 Here we allow absolute freedom to the journalist；
and entirely limit the artist。 English public opinion； that is to
say； tries to constrain and impede and warp the man who makes
things that are beautiful in effect； and compels the journalist to
retail things that are ugly； or disgusting； or revolting in fact；
so that we have the most serious journalists in the world； and the
most indecent newspapers。 It is no exaggeration to talk of
compulsion。 There are possibly some journalists who take a real
pleasure in publishing horrible things； or who； being poor； look to
scandals as forming a sort of permanent basis for an income。 But
there are other journalists； I feel certain； men of education and
cultivation； who really dislike publishing these things； who know
that it is wrong to do so； and only do it because the unhealthy
conditions under which their occupation is carried on oblige them
to supply the public with what the public wants； and to compete
with other journalists in making that supply as full and satisfying
to the gross popular appetite as possible。 It is a very degrading
position for any body of educated men to be placed in； and I have
no doubt that most of them feel it acutely。
However； let us leave what is really a very sordid side of the
subject； and return to the question of popular control in the
matter of Art； by which I mean Public Opinion dictating to the
artist the form which he is to use； the mode in which he is to use
it； and the materials with which he is to work。 I have pointed out
that the arts which have escaped best in England are the arts in
which the public have not been interested。 They are； however；
interested in the drama； and as a certain advance has been made in
the drama within the last ten or fifteen years； it is important to
point out that this advance is entirely due to a few individual
artists refusing to accept the popular want of taste as their
standard； and refusing to regard Art as a mere matter of demand and
supply。 With his marvellous and vivid personality； with a style
that has really a true colour…element in it； with his extraordinary
power； not over mere mimicry but over imaginative and intellectual
creation； Mr Irving； had his sole object been to give the public
what they wanted； could have produced the commonest plays in the
commonest manner； and made as much success and money as a man could
possibly desire。 But his object was not that。 His object was to
realise his own perfection as an artist； under certain conditions；
and in certain forms of Art。 At first he appealed to the few： now
he has educated the many。 He has created in the public both taste
and temperament。 The public appreciate his artistic success
immensely。 I often wonder； however； whether the public understand
that that success is entirely due to the fact that he did not
accept their standard； but realised his own。 With their standard
the Lyceum would have been a sort of second…rate booth； as some of
the popular theatres in London are at present。 Whether they
understand it or not the fact however remains； that taste and
temperament have； to a certain extent been created in the public；
and that the public is capable of developing these qualities。 The
problem then is； why do not the public become more civilised？ They
have the capacity。 What stops them？
The thing that stops them； it must be said again； is their desire
to exercise authority over the artist and over works of art。 To
certain theatres； such as the Lyceum and the Haymarket； the public
seem to come in a proper mood。 In both of these theatres there
have been individual artists； who have succeeded in creating in
their audiences … and every theatre in London has its own audience
… the temperament to which Art appeals。 And what is that
temperament？ It is the temperament of receptivity。 That is all。
If a man approaches a work of art with any desire to exercise
authority over it and the artist； he approaches it in such a spirit
that he cannot receive any artistic impression from it at all。 The
work of art is to dominate the spectator： the spectator is not to
dominate the work of art。 The spectator is to be receptive。 He is
to be the violin on which the master is to play。 And the more
completely he can suppress his own silly views； his own foolish
prejudices； his own absurd ideas of what Art should be； or should
not be； the more likely he is to understand and appreciate the work
of art in question。 This is； of course； quite obvious in the case
of the vulgar theatre…going public of English men and women。 But
it is equally true of what are called educated people。 For an
educated person's ideas of Art are drawn naturally from what Art
has been； whereas the new work of art is beautiful by being what
Art has never been； and to measure it by the standard of the past
is to measure it by a standard on the rejection of which its real
perfection depends。 A temperament capable of receiving； through an
imaginative medium； and under imaginative conditions； new and
beautiful impressions； is the only temperament that can appreciate
a work of art。 And true as this is in the case of the appreciation
of sculpture and painting； it is still more true of the
appreciation of such arts as the drama。 For a picture and a statue
are not at war with Time。 They take no count of its succession。
In one moment their unity may be apprehended。 In the case of
literature it is different。 Time must be traversed before the
unity of effect is realised。 And so； in the drama； there may occur
in the first act of the play something whose real artistic value
may not be evident to the spectator till the third or fourth act is
reached。 Is the silly fellow to get angry and call out； and
disturb the play； and annoy the artists？ No。 The honest man is to
sit quietly； and know the delightful emotions of wonder； curiosity；
and suspense。 He is not to go to the play to lose a vulgar temper。
He is to go to the play to realise an artistic temperament。 He is
to go to the play to gain an artistic temperament。 He is not the
arbiter of the work of art。 He is one who is admitted to
contemplate the work of art； and； if the work be fine； to forget in
its contemplation and the egotism that mars him … the egotism of
his ignorance； or the egotism of his information。 This point about
the drama is hardly； I think； sufficiently recognised。 I can quite
understand that were 'Macbeth' produced for the first time before a
modern London audience； many of the people present would strongly
and vigorously object to the introduction of the witches in the
first act； with their grotesque phrases and their ridiculous words。
But when the play is over one realises that the laughter of the
witches in 'Macbeth' is as terrible as the laughter of madness in
'Lear；' more terrible than the laughter of Iago in the tragedy of
the Moor。 No spectator of art needs a more perfect mood of
receptivity than the spectator of a play。 The moment he seeks to
exercise authority he becomes the avowed enemy of Art and of
himself。 Art does not mind。 It is he who suffers。
With the novel it is the same thing。 Popular authority and the
recognition of popular authority are fatal。 Thackeray's 'Esmond'
is a beautiful work of art because he wrote it to please himself。
In his other novels； in 'Pendennis；' in 'Philip；' in 'Vanity Fair'
even； at times； he is too conscious of the public； and spoils his
work by appealing directly to the sympathies of the public； or by
directly mocking at them。 A true artist takes no notice whatever
of the public。 The public are to him non…existent。 He has no
poppied or honeyed cakes through which to give the monster sleep or
sustenance。 He leaves that to the popular novelist。 One
incomparable novelist we have now in England； Mr George Meredith。
There are better artists in France； but France has no one whose
view of life is so large； so varied； so imaginatively true。 There
are tellers of stories in Russia who have a more vivid sense of