IDENTIFICATION OF THE ARTISAN AND ARTIST. 325 



out tbe inclemency of the weather. From what does this come ? Simpli/ 

 from the attempt to divide art into parts — to say that there shall be a class 

 of men who can do a portrait, but who cannot do a historical or other 

 great painting. And you find a difference when some of the great artists 

 of the present day — for there are some truly great artists in England — 

 do put their hands to what is considered another department of art, and 

 paint the portrait of a friend, or of any one else ; it becomes in itself 

 a fine creation of art, and it will not perish when the person is forgotten; 

 but it will be known by the name of the person who painted it, and not 

 by the name of the person who sat for it. In this way, too, high art, 

 when applied to a lower branch, raises its character. This is what ought 

 to be the fundamental basis of artistic education. If we really mean to 

 make more than improved designers or draughtsmen for mechanical 

 work, we must have great artists who are not afraid to loorlc mechanically 

 at the same time that they are great artists ; we must have the feeling 

 that art commits no unworthy condescension in giving immediate assist- 

 ance to the processes of production. The famous artists of whom I 

 have been speaking were, as we have seen, men who worked at their 

 business, and yet were not considered as working menj they were con- 

 sidered as artists, and treated as such. And it is that, I am afraid, 

 which makes the great diiference between our time and theirs. Art, 

 unfortunately, is not now considered so noble asto give rank and station, 

 as it did in those days. I do not mean that the great artists, those who 

 devote themselves to what are considered works of high art, do not 

 receive patronage and countenance, and even high honor; but we find 

 that in those days such distinctions were bestowed on the artists them- 

 selves in productive toil. There is not, perhaps, any part of the history 

 of art more interesting and beautiful than those portions of Cellini's 

 memoirs which show us the manner in which he was treated ; he used 

 to go, when he pleased, to the pope to take him drawings and models; 

 he speaks of going in without even waiting to be announced — going in 

 the evening, after laboring all day in his workshop, as a matter of course. 

 He was treated in the same manner by the gTand duke of Tuscany, and 

 by the king, Francis the First ; when he was working for him, the king used 

 to go at any hour and visit him; and Cellini gives rather a characteristic 

 anecdote, proving how very familiar such visits were. One day, while 

 at work, and, as usual, rather in ill temper, an apprentice or servant did 

 something which displeased Cellini, and he roughly took the youth by 

 the shoulders and pushed him across the room. The apprentice fell 

 against the door, which was just then opened by the king, and he fell 

 fiiirly into the king's arms. Such was the familiar way in which kings 

 and great personages used to visit Cellini, and find him in his apron 

 among his workmen. But I believe, myself, that it is not patronage 

 which art wants in modern times. Patronage it has; you, gentlemen, 

 here, many of you, I know, would not scruple to go far beyond the mere 

 calculation of interest, were it in our power to raise, by your patronage, 



