affirmation of the natural impulse of one part of the body. I believe there is more than an outside resemblance between the mere bad drawing and the true drawing. You will observe there is a reason why there should be; for mere bad drawing expresses the natural motion of the hand, though it lacks those elements which the practice of the painter gives. I believe that if you take that mere bad drawing, such as a child scribbles, you will find it divisible into two parts, and that one part only is the mere wanton deviation from truth. For observe, fulfilling two duties at once must have the appearance of not fulfilling any duty; there is the curious point that fulfilling two duties at once must have the look of refusing duty; it is a refusing one duty. There is a part of a child's drawing which really does serve and express the wider claims of nature. The true artist, as it were, divides the bad drawing into two parts; he incorporates into his drawing that which will serve; that part which expresses the natural motion of the hand, and puts aside that lack of skill which causes the mere badness. That natural motion of the hand is a permanent element of good drawing, and in so far as bad drawing contains it, it contains an element of good drawing; for we must remember that the true artist has not only to deviate from exactness when he draws many things together, but in drawing even the minutest thing. There is another point also; bad drawing is a pleasant thing to a person who cannot draw well; he may enjoy it very much; and, indeed, it is much easier to draw badly than well; but if we look at that pleasure, we find that it demands an analysis. It is evident there is pleasure in any kind of true drawing; there is pleasure in accurately representing an object; there is pleasure in that kind of bad drawing which makes the drawing more true because it serves.

But how can there be pleasure in merely drawing badly? In as far as any one draws simply falsely, he simply fails. Failure is essentially pain; pleasant as it may be, there must be incorporated a pain with the pleasure. There is that which serves the truth, which is pleasure. Then there is failure, which must be the contrary. Bad drawing, though if you take it as a whole, it may be very pleasurable, has incorporated in it something which is painful. Only the inability to draw well may make it tolerable. The pleasure of bad drawing is a mixed thing. The false part of it is no constituent of the pleasure, but a detraction from it. If you take away the inability on which it depends, it simply becomes an impossible thing. It merely expresses failure, which is the painful thing; because when failure is no longer inevitable it is always avoided. The question may be asked, Why do not people always do their best if it is more pleasant? But what is here meant by their "best" is the false right. one draw better you are trying to exactly. Then, again, all science may be summed up in this in the discovering that the truth of things is very different not only from the appearance but from what is practically true. Science is not practically true; what is true is this: if you take what it affirms as the key to your experience, you can give it a rational interpretation. Yet it is still held absurd to affirm anything of men that is not practically true. The truth of human nature unquestionably is not practically true. That is the truth in respect to man which, if you take it as a key, will account for your experience of him. The great illustration in respect to science is this-that motion never ceases-which is practically entirely false. The planets gravitate to the sun. Do they practically do that? Yet

In trying to make any make them draw more

how strange it is that we take for granted that the only truth about man must be that which is practically true? It simply means that there is no science respecting man.

So I adhere to my proposition, failure is painful; and it is proved that it is nothing but failure that makes really bad drawing; for if you give ability to draw well, failure is impossible, it is so painful. Now surely three things are parallel :-Mere bad drawing answers a life of pleasure; good drawing answers to self-righteousness; and good art answers to true goodness. Now, if that analogy holds good, although the proposition does not rest on that analogy, a curious thing follows. True art divides bad drawing into two elements-one part of it which serves (and serves, very probably, because it expresses the true and natural motion of the hand), and another part of it which is no more failure. Suppose true goodness should stand in the same relation to the life of pleasure. You will observe that the thought of good drawing that makes it to consist in exactness draws the line of right wrongly; it puts into the line of badness all that deviation from exactitude which belongs to true art; it divides goodness against itself; it prohibits goodness from being reckoned as goodness. Altogether it is a false line; it is not the true line of right. It makes a false division. If you want to show the true line of right in art, you must take in a certain portion of that which is included in bad drawing, and transfer it into good drawing; then you will observe the very accuracy divides itself in some way; a part of it belongs to good drawing, all true bad drawing, though it is one, yet looks like two. All that false drawing and all that exact drawing alike which is not for service, these make up bad drawing; all false drawing which serves is included in good drawing. The line of goodness is drawn falsely;

whatever serves in what is called bad belongs rightly to true goodness. It is the same in respect to right and wrong, restraint and pleasure, as it is in respect to drawing; all that serves is good. We have to draw afresh the line as art teaches us. Every duty that forbids service is a duty that we ought to sacrifice; the duty that forbids service is a false duty, and men will only be good as they repudiate it. Man has to be able to take the pleasant things that serve, not for the pleasure of them, but for the service of them: that is the true goodness.

When nature shows that a thing would be of service, that is, I take it, her telling us to do it. Now there is a special difficulty which nature puts in her own way in our comprehending that she is telling us to do pleasant things in the fact that pleasant things, because of their pleasantness, have been done by vicious people. If we are sincerely anxious to do good, the unpleasantness of a duty will not be a hindrance; it almost becomes a reason for our doing it. Nature can tell us with perfect ease, Do the things that are unpleasurable. If she has to tell us to do a thing that is pleasant, that is a difficulty in her way, for that is a thing which some people do wrongly. We say, "How can I do that? She has made it more difficult for those who wish to be good to do pleasant things."

Now human life must bear the mark of that; it will inevitably be visible in human life that men have been hindered from doing things which are pleasant to them through the fact of their having been done badly.

You will find there are a number of useful things which we should never dream of refusing to do except because they are pleasant. But people doing a thing for themselves, is not a reason why nature should not want it to be done. Surely there is no design more beautiful

than this. It keeps man's life from failing of its full development. Nature will not let a tree bear fruit too soon. An animal that is worked too early never reaches its full strength. So she contrives that the "nutrition," the restraint in human moral life, shall reach its full development. By this means partly she ensures it.

Human action is divisible into two portions,-the portion that is pleasure, and the portion that is not pleasure. When men outstep the line of service they take pain as well as pleasure. It is nothing but failure. Give them the ability to avoid the failure, and they prove to you that it is painful.

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