It is not, indeed, to be desired that the eugenic action of society should be directly aimed at any narrowly æsthetic or moral end. That has never been the ideal of any of those whose conceptions of social life deserve to be taken seriously, least of all Galton, who is commonly regarded as the founder of the modern scientific art of eugenics. “Society would be very dull,” he remarked, “if every man resembled Marcus Aurelius or Adam Bede.” He even asserted that “we must leave morality as far as possible out of the discussion,” since moral goodness and badness are shifting phases of a civilisation; what is held morally good in one age is held bad in another. That would hold true of any æsthetic revolution. But we cannot afford to do without the sane and wholesome persons who are so well balanced that they can adjust themselves to the conditions of every civilisation as it arises and carry it on to its finest issues. We should not, indeed, seek to breed them directly, and we need not, since under natural conditions Nature will see to their breeding. But it is all the more incumbent upon us to eliminate those ill-balanced and poisonous stocks produced by the unnatural conditions which society in the past had established.[156] That we have to do alike in the interests of the offspring of these diseased stocks and in the interests of society. No power in Heaven or Earth can ever confer upon us the right to create the unfit in order to hang them like millstones around the necks of the fit. The genius of Galton enabled him to see this clearly afresh and to indicate the reasonable path of human progress. It was a truth that had long been forgotten by the strenuous humanitarians who ruled the nineteenth century, so anxious to perpetuate and multiply all the worst spawn of their humanity. Yet it was an ancient truth, carried into practice, however unconsciously and instinctively, by Man throughout his upward course, probably even from Palæolithic times, and when it ceased Man’s upward course also ceased. As Carr-Saunders has shown, in a learned and comprehensive work which is of primary importance for the understanding of the history of Man, almost every people on the face of the earth has adopted one or more practices—notably infanticide, abortion, or severe restriction of sexual intercourse—adapted to maintain due selection of the best stocks and to limit the excess of fertility. They largely ceased to work because Man had acquired the humanity which was repelled by such methods and lost the intelligence to see that they must be replaced by better methods. For the process of human evolution is nothing more than a process of sifting, and where that sifting ceases evolution ceases, becomes, indeed, devolution.[157] When we survey the history of Man we are constantly reminded of the profound truth which often lay beneath the parables of Jesus, and they might well form the motto for any treatise on eugenics. Jesus was constantly seeking to suggest the necessity of that process of sifting in which all human evolution consists; he was ever quick to point out how few could be, as it was then phrased, “saved,” how extremely narrow is the path to the Kingdom of Heaven, or, as many might now call it, the Kingdom of Man. He proclaimed symbolically a doctrine of heredity which is only to-day beginning to be directly formulated: “Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire.” There was no compunction at all in his promulgation of this radical yet necessary doctrine for the destruction of unfit stocks. Even the best stocks Jesus was in favour of destroying ruthlessly as soon as they had ceased to be the best: “Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour,...it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.” Jesus has been reproached by Nietzsche for founding a religion for slaves and plebeians, and so in the result it may have become. But we see that, in the words of the Teacher as they have been handed down, the religion of Jesus was the most aristocratic of religions. Its doctrine embodied not even the permission to live for those human stocks which fall short of its aristocratic ideal. It need not surprise us to find that Jesus had already said two thousand years ago what Galton, in a more modern and—some would add—more humane way, was saying yesterday. If there had not been a core of vital truth beneath the surface of the first Christian’s teaching, it could hardly have survived so long. We are told that it is now dead, but should it ever be revived we may well believe that this is the aspect by which it will be commended. It is a significant fact that at the two spiritual sources of our world, Jesus and Plato, we find the assertion of the principle of eugenics, in one implicitly, in the other explicitly.
Jules de Gaultier was not concerned to put forward an aristocratic conception of his æsthetic doctrine, and, as we have seen, he remained on the threshold of eugenics. He was content to suggest, though with no positive assurance, a more democratic conception. He had, indeed, one may divine, a predilection for that middle class which has furnished so vast a number of the supreme figures in art and thought; by producing a class of people dispensed from tasks of utility, he had pointed out, “a society creates for itself an organ fitted for the higher life and bears witness that it has passed beyond the merely biological stage to reach the human stage.” But the middle class is not indispensable, and if it is doomed Gaultier saw ways of replacing it.[158] Especially we may seek to ensure that, in every social group, the individual task of utilitarian work shall be so limited that the worker is enabled to gain a leisure sufficiently ample to devote, if he has the aptitude, to works of intellect or art. He would agree with Otto Braun, the inspired youth who was slain in the Great War, that if we desire the enablement of the people “the eight-hours day becomes nothing less than the most imperative demand of culture.” It is in this direction, it may well be, that social evolution is moving, however its complete realisation may, by temporary causes, from time to time be impeded. The insistent demand for increased wages and diminished hours of work has not been inspired by the desire to raise the level of culture in the social environment, or to inaugurate any æsthetic revolution, yet, by “the law of irony” which so often controls the realisation of things, that is the result which may be achieved. The new leisure conferred on the worker may be transformed into spiritual activity, and the liberated utilitarian energy into æsthetic energy. The road would thus be opened for a new human adventure, of anxious interest, which the future alone can reveal.
We cannot be sure that this transformation will take place. We cannot be sure, indeed, that it is possible for it to take place unless the general quality of the population in whom so fine a process must be effected is raised by a more rigid eugenic process than there is yet any real determination among us to exert. Men still bow down before the fetish of mere quantity in population, and that worship may be their undoing. Giant social organisms, like the giant animal species of early times, may be destined to disappear suddenly when they have attained their extreme expansion.
Even if that should be so, even if there should be a solution of continuity in the course of civilisation, even then, as again Jules de Gaultier also held, we need not despair, for life is a fountain of everlasting exhilaration. No creature on the earth has so tortured himself as Man, and none has raised a more exultant Alleluia. It would still be possible to erect places of refuge, cloisters wherein life would yet be full of joy for men and women determined by their vocation to care only for beauty and knowledge, and so to hand on to a future race the living torch of civilisation. When we read Palladius, when we read Rabelais, we realise how vast a field lies open for human activity between the Thebaid on one side and Thelema on the other. Out of such ashes a new world might well arise. Sunset is the promise of dawn.
THE END Footnote 113: Alfred Niceforo, _Les Indices Numériques de la Civilisation et du Progrès_. Paris, 1921.
Footnote 114: Professor Bury, in his admirable history of the idea of progress (J. B. Bury, _The Idea of Progress_, 1920), never defines the meaning of “progress.” As regards the meaning of “civilisation” see essay on “Civilisation,” Havelock Ellis, _The Philosophy of Conflict_ (1919), pp. 14-22.
Footnote 115: Footnote 116: See e.g., Maurice Parmelee’s _Criminology_, the sanest and most comprehensive manual on the subject we have in English.
Footnote 117: Élie Faure, with his usual incisive insight, has set out the real characters of the “Greek Spirit” (“Reflexions sur le Génie Grec,” _Monde Nouveau_, December, 1922).
Footnote 118: This tendency, on which Herbert Spencer long ago insisted, is in its larger aspects quite clear. E. C. Pell (_The Law of Births and Deaths_, 1921) has argued that it holds good of civilised man to-day, and that our decreasing birth rate with civilisation is quite independent of any effort on Man’s part to attain that evolutionary end.
Footnote 119: Footnote 119: Professor McDougall refers to the high birth-rate of the lower stratum as more “normal.” If that were so, civilisation would certainly be doomed. All high evolution _normally_ involves a low birth-rate. Strange how difficult it is even for those most concerned with these questions to see the facts simply and clearly!
Footnote 120: Footnote 121: Dupréel, _La Légende Socratique_ (1922), p. 428. Dupréel considers (p. 431) that the Protagorean spirit was marked by the idea of explaining the things of thought, and life in general, by the meeting, opposition, and harmony of individual activities, leading up to the sociological notion of _convention_, and behind it, of relativity. Nietzsche was a pioneer in restoring the Sophists to their rightful place in Greek thought. The Greek culture of the Sophists grew out of all the Greek instincts, he says (_The Will to Power_, section 428): “And it has ultimately shown itself to be right. Our modern attitude of mind is, to a great extent, Heraclitean, Democritean, and Protagorean. To say that it is Protagorean is even sufficient, because Protagoras was himself a synthesis of Heraclitus and Democritus.” The Sophists, by realizing that many supposed objective ideas were really subjective, have often been viewed with suspicion as content with a mere egotistically individualistic conception of life. The same has happened to Nietzsche. It was probably an error as regards the greatest Sophists, and is certainly an error, though even still commonly committed, as regards Nietzsche; see the convincing discussion of Nietzsche’s moral aim in Salter, _Nietzsche the Thinker_, chap. XXIV.
Footnote 122: Footnote 122: I may here, perhaps, remark that in the General Preface to my _Studies in the Psychology of Sex_ I suggested that we now have to lay the foundation of a new casuistry, no longer theological and Christian, but naturalistic and scientific.
Footnote 123: Oswald Spengler, _Der Untergang des Abendlandes_, vol. I (1918); vol. II (1922).
Footnote 124: In an interesting pamphlet, _Pessimismus?_ Spengler has since pointed out that he does not regard his argument as pessimistic. The end of a civilisation is its fulfilment, and there is still much to be achieved (though not, he thinks, along the line of art) before our own civilisation is fulfilled. With Spengler’s conception of that fulfilment we may, however, fail to sympathise.
Footnote 125: See, for instance, W. L. Newman, _The Politics of Aristotle_, vol. 1, p. 201, and S. H. Butcher, _Aristotle’s Theory of Poetry and Fine Art_, p. 119.
Footnote 126: Beauty is a dangerous conception to deal with, and the remembrance of this great saying may, perhaps, help to save us from the degrading notion that beauty merely inheres in objects, or has anything to do with the prim and smooth conventions which make prettiness. Even in the fine art of painting it is more reasonable to regard prettiness as the negation of beauty. It is possible to find beauty in Degas and Cézanne, but not in Bouguereau or Cabanel. The path of beauty is not soft and smooth, but full of harshness and asperity. It is a rose that grows only on a bush covered with thorns. As of goodness and of truth, men talk too lightly of Beauty. Only to the bravest and skilfullest is it given to break through the briers of her palace and kiss at last her enchanted lips.
Footnote 127: Footnote 127: Ruskin was what Spinoza has been called, a God-intoxicated man; he had a gift of divine rhapsody, which reached at times to inspiration. But it is not enough to be God-intoxicated, for into him whose mind is disorderly and ignorant and ill-disciplined the Gods pour their wine in vain. Spinoza’s mind was not of that kind, Ruskin’s too often was, so that Ruskin can never be, like Spinoza, a permanent force in the world of thought. His interest is outside that field, mainly perhaps psychological in the precise notation of a particular kind of æsthetic sensibility. The admiration of Ruskin cherished by Proust, himself a supreme master in this field, is significant.
Footnote 128: Butcher, _Aristotle’s Theory of Poetry and Fine Art_, chap. V, “Art and Morals.” Aristotle could have accepted the almost Freudian view of Croce that art is the deliverer, the process through which we overcome the stress of inner experiences by objectifying them (_Æsthetics as Science of Expression_, p. 35). But Plato could not accept Croce, still less Freud.
Footnote 129: Schopenhauer, _Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung_ (1859), vol. II, p. 442. For a careful and detailed study of Schopenhauer’s conception of art, see A. Fauconnet, _L’Esthétique de Schopenhauer_ (1913).
Footnote 130: I find that I have here negligently ascribed to Bergson a metaphor which belongs to Croce, who at this point says the same thing as Bergson, though he gives it a different name. In _Æsthetics as Science of Expression_ (English translation, p. 66) we read: “The world of which as a rule we have intuition [Bergson could not have used that word here] is a small thing...‘Here is a man, here is a horse, this is heavy, this is hard, this pleases me,’ etc. It is a medley of light and colour, which could not pictorially attain to any more sincere expression than a haphazard splash of colour, from among which would with difficulty stand out a few special distinctive traits. This and nothing else is what we possess in our ordinary life; this is the basis of our ordinary action. It is the index of a book. The labels tied to things take the place of things themselves.”
Footnote 131: H. Bergson, _Le Rire_. For a clear, concise, and sympathetic exposition of Bergson’s standpoint, though without special reference to art, see Karin Stephen, _The Misuse of Mind_.
Footnote 132: This may seem to cast a critical reflection on Croce. Let me, therefore, hasten to add that it is merely the personal impression that Croce, for all his virtuous aspirations after the concrete, tends to fall into verbal abstraction. He so often reminds one of that old lady who used to find (for she died during the Great War) such spiritual consolation in “that blessed word Mesopotamia.” This refers, however, to the earlier more than to the later Croce.
Footnote 133: Footnote 134: Before Baumgarten this distinction seems to have been recognised, though too vaguely and inconsistently, by Hutcheson, who is so often regarded as the real founder of modern æsthetics. W. R. Scott (_Francis Hutcheson_, p. 216) points out these two principles in Hutcheson’s work, “the Internal Senses, as derived from Reflection, representing the attitude of the ‘Spectator’ or observer in a picture gallery while, on the other hand, as deduced from εὐέργεια find a parallel in the artist’s own consciousness of success in his work, thus the former might be called static and the latter dynamic consciousness, or, in the special case of Morality, the first applies primarily to approval of the acts of others, the second to each individual’s approval of his own conduct.”
Footnote 135: This would probably be recognised even by those moralists who, like Hutcheson, in their anxiety to make clear an important relationship, have spoken ambiguously. “Probably Hutcheson’s real thought,” remarks F. C. Sharp (_Mind_, 1921, p. 42), “is that the moral emotion, while possessing many important affinities with the æsthetic, is in the last resort different in content.”
Footnote 136: Footnote 136: Schopenhauer long ago pointed out that a picture should be looked at as a royal personage is approached, in silence, until the moment it pleases to speak to you, for, if you speak first (and how many critics one knows who “speak first”!), you expose yourself to hear nothing but the sound of your own voice. In other words, it is a spontaneous and “mystical” experience.
Footnote 137: It is through Plotinus, also, that we realise how æsthetics is on the same plane, if not one, with mysticism. For by his insistence on Contemplation, which is æsthetics, we learn to understand what is meant when it is said, as it often is, that mysticism is Contemplation. (On this point, and on the early evolutions of Christian Mysticism, see Dom Cuthbert Butler, _Western Mysticism_ (1922).)
Footnote 138: Really, however, Plotinus was here a Neo-Aristotelian rather than a Neo-Platonist, for Aristotle (_Ethics_, book X, chap. 6) had put the claim of the Contemplative life higher even than Plato and almost forestalled Plotinus. But as Aristotle was himself here a Platonist that does not much matter.
Footnote 139: Footnote 139: See Inge, _Philosophy of Plotinus_, p. 179. In a fine passage (quoted by Bridges in his _Spirit of Man_) Plotinus represents contemplation as the great function of Nature herself, content, in a sort of self-consciousness, to do nothing more than perfect that fair and bright vision. This “metaphysical Narcissism,” as Palante might call it, accords with the conception of various later thinkers, like Schopenhauer, and like Gaultier, who however, seldom refers to Plotinus.
Footnote 140: R. Schmidt, _Deutsche Philosophie der Gegenwart in Selbstdarstellungen_ (1921), vol. II.
Footnote 141: Footnote 142: W. M. Salter in his _Nietzsche the Thinker_—probably the best and most exact study of Nietzsche’s thought we possess—summarises Nietzsche’s “æsthetic metaphysics,” as he terms it (pp. 46-48), in words which apply almost exactly to Gaultier.
Footnote 143: See especially his book _Über den Nervösen Charakter_ (1912). It has been translated into English.
Footnote 144: Jules de Gaultier, _Le Bovarysme_, and various other of his works. Georges Palante has lucidly and concisely expounded the idea of Bovarism in a small volume, _La Philosophie du Bovarysme_ (_Mercure de France_).
Footnote 145: Gaultier has luminously discussed the relations of War, Civilisation, and Art in the _Monde Nouveau_, August, 1920, and February, 1921.
Footnote 146: These are problems concerning which innocent people might imagine that the wise refrained from speculating, but, as a matter of fact, the various groups of philosophic devotees may be divided into those termed “Idealists” and those termed “Realists,” each assured of the superiority of his own way of viewing thought. Roughly speaking, for the idealist thought means the creation of the world, for the realist its discovery. But here (as in many differences between Tweedledum and Tweedledee for which men have slain one another these thousands of years) there seem to be superiorities on both sides. Each looks at thought in a different aspect. But the idealist could hardly create the world with nothing there to make it from, nor the realist discover it save through creating it afresh. We cannot, so to put it, express in a single formula of three dimensions what only exists as a unity in four dimensions.
Footnote 147: Footnote 148: I may here be allowed to refer to another discussion of this point, Havelock Ellis, _The Philosophy of Conflict, and Other Essays_, pp. 57-68.
Footnote 149: I may remark that Plato had long before attributed the same observation to the Pythagorean Timæus in the sublime and amusing dialogue that goes under that name: “Sight in my opinion is the source of the greatest benefit to us, for had we never seen the stars, and the sun, and the heavens, none of the words which we have spoken about the universe would ever have been uttered. But now the sight of day and night, and the months and the revolution of the years, have created Number, and have given us a conception of Time, and the powers of inquiring about the Nature of the Universe, and from this source we have derived philosophy, than which no greater good ever was or will be given by the gods to mortal man.”
Footnote 150: Jules de Gaultier, “La Guerre et les Destinées de l’Art,” _Monde Nouveau_, August, 1920.
Footnote 151: Thus Einstein, like every true man of science, holds that cultural developments are not to be measured in terms of utilitarian technical advances, much as he has himself been concerned with such advances, but that, like the devotee of “Art for Art’s sake,” the man of science must proclaim the maxim, “Science for Science’s sake.”
Footnote 152: Footnote 152: In the foregoing paragraphs I have, in my own way, reproduced the thought, occasionally the words, of Jules de Gaultier, more especially in “La Moralité Esthétique” (_Mercure de France_, 15th December, 1921), probably the finest short statement of this distinguished thinker’s reflections on the matter in question.
Footnote 153: Guyau, _L’Art au Point de Vue Sociologique_, p. 163.
Footnote 154: This diffused æsthetic sense is correlated with a diffused artistic instinct, based on craftsmanship, which the Greeks were afraid to recognise because they looked down with contempt on the handicrafts as vulgar. William Morris was a pioneer in asserting this association. As a distinguished English writer, Mr. Charles Marriott, the novelist and critic, clearly puts the modern doctrine: “The first step is to absorb, or re-absorb, the ‘Artist’ into the craftsman...Once agree that the same æsthetic considerations which apply to painting a picture apply, though in a different degree, to painting a door, and you have emancipated labour without any prejudice to the highest meaning of art...A good surface of paint on a door is as truly an emotional or æsthetic consideration as ‘significant form,’ indeed it _is_ ‘significant form.’” (_Nation and Athenæum_, 1st July, 1922.) Professor Santayana has spoken in the same sense: “In a thoroughly humanised society everything—clothes, speech, manners, government—is a work of art.” (_The Dial_, June, 1922, p. 563.) It is, indeed, the general tendency to-day and is traceable in Croce’s later writings.
Footnote 155: Footnote 155: Thus it has often been pointed out that the Papuans are artists in design of the first rank, with a finer taste in some matters than the most highly civilised races of Europe. Professor R. Semon, who has some remarks to this effect (_Correspondenzblatt_ of the German Anthropological Society, March, 1902), adds that their unfailing artistic sense is spread throughout the whole population and shown in every object of daily use.
Footnote 156: Footnote 156: The presence of a small minority of abnormal or perverse persons—there will be such, we may be sure, in every possible society—affords no excuse for restricting the liberty of the many to the standard of the few. The general prevalence of an æsthetic morality in classic times failed to prevent occasional outbursts of morbid sexual impulse in the presence of objects of art, even in temples. We find records of Pygmalionism and allied perversities in Lucian, Athenæus, Pliny, Valerius Maximus. Yet supposing that the Greeks had listened to the proposals of some strayed Puritan visitor, from Britain or New England, to abolish nude statues, or suppose that Plato, who wished to do away with imaginative literature as liable to demoralise, had possessed the influence he desired, how infinite the loss to all mankind! In modern Europe we not only propose such legal abolition; we actually, however in vain, carry it out. We seek to reduce all human existence to absurdity. It is, at the best, unnecessary, for we may be sure that, in spite of our efforts, a certain amount of absurdity will always remain.
Footnote 157: A. M. Carr-Saunders, _The Population Problem: A Study in Human Evolution_ (Oxford Press, 1922).
Footnote 158: INDEX Abortion, once practised, 354.
Absolute, the, a fiction, 101.
Abyssian Church, dancing in worship of, 45.
Acting, music, and poetry, proceed in one stream, 36.
Adam, Villiers de l’Isle, his story _Le Secret de l’ancienne Musique_, 25.
Addison, Joseph, his style, 161-63, 184.
Adler, Dr. Alfred, of Vienna, 336, 337.
Adolescence, idealisation in, 107, 108.
Æschylus, developed technique of dancing, 56.
Æsthetic contemplation, 314, 315, 325, 326; recognised by the Greeks, 330, 331; two kinds of, that of spectator and that of participator, 331, 332; the Shaftesbury attitude toward, 332, 333; the Swift attitude toward, 333; involves life as a spectacle, 333, 334; and the systems of Gaultier and Russell, 343; engenders neither hatred nor envy, 346.
Æsthetic instinct, to replace moralities, religions, and laws, 340, 341, 343-45; differentiated from other instincts, 346; has the character of morality, 346.
Æsthetic sense, development of, indispensable for civilisation, 345; realises morality when unburdened with moral intentions, 346; mixed with primitive manifestations of life, 350; correlated with diffused artistic instinct, 350 _n._; seems to be decreasing, 350-52.
Æsthetics, and ethics, among the Greeks, 247; with us, 348; in the Greek sense, 263; the founders of, 271, 329; and art, the unlikeness of, 325-28; on same plane with mysticism, 330 _n._ Akhenaten, 28.
Alaro, in Mallorca, dancing in church at, 44, 45.
Alberti, Leo, vast-ranging ideas of, 5.
Alcohol, consumption of, as test of civilisation, 295, 296.
Anatomy, studied by Leonardo da Vinci, 120.
Anaximander, 89.
Ancestry, the force of, in handwriting, 157, 158; in style, 158-61, 190.
Anna, Empress, 59.
Aquinas, Saint Thomas, 202.
Arabs, dancing among, 38.
Arbuckle, one of the founders of æsthetics, 271; insisted on imagination as formative of character, 272.
Architecture. _See_ Building.
Aristophanes, 311.
Aristotle, 89; on tragedy, 56; on the Mysteries, 242; on the moral quality of an act, 248; his use of the term “moral sense,” 273; on Art and Nature in the making of the State, 313; his use of the term “artists,” 313; his view of poetry, 318; and the contemplative life, 330 _n._ Art, life as, more difficult to realise than to act, 1, 2; universe conceived as work of, by the primitive philosopher, 1; life as, views of finest thinkers of China and Greece on, 2-6, 247-52; whole conception of, has been narrowed and debased, 6, 7; in its proper sense, 7, 8; as the desire for beautification, 8; of living, has been decadent during the last two thousand years, 8 _n._; Napoleon in the sphere of, 10; of living, the Lifuan, 13-18; of living, the Chinese, 27; Chinese civilisation shows that human life is, 30; of living, T’ung’s story the embodiment of the Chinese symbol of, 33; life identical with, 33-35; of dancing, 36, 51-67, _see_ Dancing; of life, a dance, 66, 67; science and, no distinction between, in classic times, 68; science and, distinction between, in modern times, 68-70; science is of the nature of, 71; represented by Pythagoras as source of science, 74; Greek, 76 _n._; of thinking, 68-140, _see_ Thinking; the solution of the conflicts of philosophy in, 82, 83; philosophy and, close relationship of, 83-85; impulse of, transformed sexual instinct, 108-12; and mathematics, 138-40; of writing, 141-190, _see_ Writing; Man added to Nature, is the task in, 153; the freedom and the easiness of, do not necessarily go together, 182; of religion, 191-243, _see_ Religion; of morals, 244-84, _see_ Morals; the critic of, a critic of life, 269; civilisation is an, 301, 310; consideration of the question of the definition of, 310-12; Nature and, 312, 313; the sum of the active energies of mankind, 313; and æsthetics, the unlikeness of, 314, 315, 325-28; a genus, of which morals is a species, 316; each, has its own morality, 318; to assert that it gives pleasure a feeble conclusion, 319; on the uselessness of, according to Schopenhauer and others, 319-21; meaninglessness of the statement that it is useless, 322; sociological function of, 323, 324; philosophers have failed to see that it has a morality of its own, 324, 325; for art’s sake, 346, 347.