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News from Nowhere, or, an Epoch of Rest : being some chapters from a utopian romance by William Morris
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that many of the things which used to be produced--slave-wares for
the poor and mere wealth-wasting wares for the rich--ceased to be
made. That remedy was, in short, the production of what used to be
called art, but which has no name amongst us now, because it has
become a necessary part of the labour of every man who produces."

Said I: "What! had men any time or opportunity for cultivating the
fine arts amidst the desperate struggle for life and freedom that you
have told me of?"

Said Hammond: "You must not suppose that the new form of art was
founded chiefly on the memory of the art of the past; although,
strange to say, the civil war was much less destructive of art than
of other things, and though what of art existed under the old forms,
revived in a wonderful way during the latter part of the struggle,
especially as regards music and poetry. The art or work-pleasure, as
one ought to call it, of which I am now speaking, sprung up almost
spontaneously, it seems, from a kind of instinct amongst people, no
longer driven desperately to painful and terrible over-work, to do
the best they could with the work in hand--to make it excellent of
its kind; and when that had gone on for a little, a craving for
beauty seemed to awaken in men's minds, and they began rudely and
awkwardly to ornament the wares which they made; and when they had
once set to work at that, it soon began to grow. All this was much
helped by the abolition of the squalor which our immediate ancestors
put up with so coolly; and by the leisurely, but not stupid, country-
life which now grew (as I told you before) to be common amongst us.
Thus at last and by slow degrees we got pleasure into our work; then
we became conscious of that pleasure, and cultivated it, and took
care that we had our fill of it; and then all was gained, and we were
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