artist takes notice of what other people want, and tries to supply
the demand, he ceases to be an artist, and becomes a dull or an
amusing craftsman, an honest or a dishonest tradesman. He has no
further claim to be considered as an artist. Art is the most
intense mode of Individualism that the world has known. I am
inclined to say that it is the only real mode of Individualism that
the world has known. Crime, which, under certain conditions, may
seem to have created Individualism, must take cognisance of other
people and interfere with them. It belongs to the sphere of
action. But alone, without any reference to his neighbours,
without any interference, the artist can fashion a beautiful thing;
and if he does not do it solely for his own pleasure, he is not an
artist at all.

And it is to be noted that it is the fact that Art is this intense
form of Individualism that makes the public try to exercise over it
in an authority that is as immoral as it is ridiculous, and as
corrupting as it is contemptible. It is not quite their fault.
The public has always, and in every age, been badly brought up.
They are continually asking Art to be popular, to please their want
of taste, to flatter their absurd vanity, to tell them what they
have been told before, to show them what they ought to be tired of
seeing, to amuse them when they feel heavy after eating too much,
and to distract their thoughts when they are wearied of their own
stupidity. Now Art should never try to be popular. The public
should try to make itself artistic. There is a very wide
difference. If a man of science were told that the results of his
experiments, and the conclusions that he arrived at, should be of
such a character that they would not upset the received popular
notions on the subject, or disturb popular prejudice, or hurt the