But here we trench on art.  We ought to teach the people not only science but art as well, but the latter is the more difficult.

* * * * *

Modern peoples are not artistic.  The Greeks were, and the Japanese were, before the European invasion.  An artistic people is recognized by their ignorance of “objects of art,” for in such an environment art is everywhere.  An artistic people no more dreams of creating art than a great nobleman of consciously exhibiting a distinguished manner.  Distinction lies in his slightest mannerism without his being conscious of the fact.  So, among artistic peoples, the most ordinary and humble objects have style.  And this style, furthermore, is in perfect harmony with the purpose of the object.  It is absolutely appropriate for that purpose in its proportions, in the purity of its lines, the elegance of its form, its perfection of execution, and, above all, in its meaning.  When an outcry is raised against the ugliness and tawdriness of certain objects in this country, the answer is, “But see how cheap they are!” But style and conscience in work cost nothing.  Feeling for art is, however, inherent in human nature.  The weapons of primitive peoples are beautiful.  The prehistoric hatchets of the Stone Age are perfect in their contours.  There is, therefore, no question of creating a feeling for art in the people, but of awakening it.

Music holds so important a place in the modern world, that we ought to begin with that.  There is plenty of gay music, easy to understand, which is in harmony with the laws of art, and the people ought to hear it instead of the horrors which they cram into our ears under the pretence of satisfying our tastes.  What pleases people most is sentimental music, but it need not be a silly sentimentality.  Instead, they ought to give the people the charming airs which grow, as naturally as daisies on a lawn, in the vast field of opera-comique.  That is not high art, it is true, but it is pretty music and it is high art compared with what is heard too often in the cafes.  I am not ignorant of the fact that such establishments employ talented people.  But along with the good, what frightful things one hears!  And no one would listen to their instrumental repertoire anywhere else!

Every time anyone has tried to raise the standards and employ real singers and real virtuosi, the attendance has increased.  But, very often, even at the theatres, the managers satisfy their own tastes under the pretence of satisfying that of the public.  That is, of course, intensely human.  We judge others by ourselves.

A famous manager once said to me, as he pointed to an empty house, “The public is amazing.  Give them what they like, and they don’t come!”