It is constantly argued that the mere contemplation of things beautiful creates this artistic sense—­the sense of beauty.  This is undoubtedly true if one were to dwell entirely among beautiful things.  But how if for one thing which is beautiful you are made to contemplate a hundred which are not?  Suppose you offer a girl of untrained eye a choice of costumes, of which one is artistic and the rest are all hideous, how can you expect her to know the one—­the only one—­which she sought to choose?  Or, again, if you allow a boy to read and learn as much bad poetry as good, what can you expect of his standard of taste?  In other words, when the surroundings of life are wholly without Art, an occasional visit to a collection of paintings cannot create an intelligent appreciation of Art.

Again, there are many branches and diverse forms or Art.  For Instance, there is music, there is singing there is acting, there is sculpture, poetry, fiction; and besides these there are working in metals, engraving in wood and copper, leather work, brass work, fret work, and decoration.  None of these arts are illustrated and recognised in the Bethnal Green Museum, Yet, when we speak of the spreading of Art among the poor, surely we do not mean only drawing, design, and painting.

The popularity of this museum has been argued as a proof of its efficiency.  It attracts, as I have stated already, over 2,000 on every free day all the year round.  On the one day in the week when an entrance fee of sixpence is required it attracts from twenty to forty.  This means that out of two millions of people in East London there is so little enthusiasm for Art that only forty can be found each week to pay sixpence in order to enjoy quiet galleries and undisturbed study.  Remember that East London is not altogether a poor place; there are whole districts which are full of villa residences as good as any in the southern suburb; there are many people who are wealthy; but all the wealth and all the Art enthusiasm of the place will not bring more than forty every week to pay their sixpence.  As for copying the pictures, I do not know if any facilities are afforded for the purpose, but I have never seen anyone in the place copying at all.

The throng of visitors on free days may partly be explained on other grounds than the love of Art.  It is a place where one can pleasantly lounge, or sit down to rest, or lazily look at pleasant things, or talk with one’s friends, or take refuge from bad weather.  This is as it should be; the place is regarded as a pleasant place.  Yet the number of visitors has fallen off.  In the first year of its existence nearly a million entered the gates; four years later an equal number was registered; for the last three years the number has fallen to less than half a million.  Its popularity, therefore, is on the decline.