tween the two classes of men which may be cleared away? May it not be possible thus to bring about an increased harmony and effectiveness in the work of both scientist and artist? First, then, let us ask, What is the basis of the anta- gonism? I think it will be agreed at the start that the mental attitudes of the scientist and of the artist are themselves diverse in character. The scientist is pre-eminently a searcher: he is aggres- sive; the artist is distinctly a listener and a follower of the commands of an inner voice. Scientists, as we well know, are liable to exaggerate the importance of their work: few indeed are those great souls among them who see beyond the details of investigation, and realise the great importance of the problems which tran- scend their powers. The average votary of science is filled with self-confidence, aroused less by any notion that he knows all things himself than by a firm belief that he is on the path which leads to fulness of knowledge and power, and that he is the representative of a mistress omniscient and omnipotent. This self-confidence of the scientist is repulsive to the artist -- the listener and follower -- who has long and wearily striven to express the leadings of the inner voice, and who appreciates how he has failed, with all his effort, to picture worthily his inspiration. The claim that we could reason art products into existence, were we clever enough, seems to him preposterous, and so far as he can see such is the claim an æsthetic science would make. On the other hand, the active, energetic scientist who is treating of facts given to him in nature is liable to look with some little contempt upon the artists, whom he thinks of as dreamers, and whose waywardness he altogether deprecates. That this difference of mental attitude, however, does not -xii- |