〃Mr。　Whistler；〃　adds　Professor　Raleigh；　〃always　laughed　first。〃
  The　truth　is；　I　believe；　that　Whistler　never　laughed　at　all。
  There　was　no　laughter　in　his　nature；　because　there　was　no　thoughtlessness
  and　self…abandonment；　no　humility。　　I　cannot　understand　anybody
  reading　〃The　Gentle　Art　of　Making　Enemies〃　and　thinking　that　there
  is　any　laughter　in　the　wit。　　His　wit　is　a　torture　to　him。
  He　twists　himself　into　arabesques　of　verbal　felicity；　he　is　full
  of　a　fierce　carefulness；　he　is　inspired　with　the　complete　seriousness
  of　sincere　malice。　　He　hurts　himself　to　hurt　his　opponent。
  Browning　did　laugh；　because　Browning　did　not　care；　Browning　did
  not　care；　because　Browning　was　a　great　man。　　And　when　Browning
  said　in　brackets　to　the　simple；　sensible　people　who　did　not　like
  his　books；　〃God　love　you！〃　he　was　not　sneering　in　the　least。
  He　was　laughingthat　is　to　say；　he　meant　exactly　what　he　said。
  There　are　three　distinct　classes　of　great　satirists　who　are　also　great　men
  that　is　to　say；　three　classes　of　men　who　can　laugh　at　something　without
  losing　their　souls。　　The　satirist　of　the　first　type　is　the　man　who；
  first　of　all　enjoys　himself；　and　then　enjoys　his　enemies。
  In　this　sense　he　loves　his　enemy；　and　by　a　kind　of　exaggeration　of
  Christianity　he　loves　his　enemy　the　more　the　more　he　becomes　an　enemy。
  He　has　a　sort　of　overwhelming　and　aggressive　happiness　in　his
  assertion　of　anger；　his　curse　is　as　human　as　a　benediction。
  Of　this　type　of　satire　the　great　example　is　Rabelais。　　This　is
  the　first　typical　example　of　satire；　the　satire　which　is　voluble；
  which　is　violent；　which　is　indecent；　but　which　is　not　malicious。
  The　satire　of　Whistler　was　not　this。　　He　was　never　in　any　of　his
  controversies　simply　happy；　the　proof　of　it　is　that　he　never　talked
  absolute　nonsense。　　There　is　a　second　type　of　mind　which　produces　satire
  with　the　quality　of　greatness。　　That　is　embodied　in　the　satirist　whose
  passions　are　released　and　let　go　by　some　intolerable　sense　of　wrong。
  He　is　maddened　by　the　sense　of　men　being　maddened；　his　tongue
  becomes　an　unruly　member；　and　testifies　against　all　mankind。
  Such　a　man　was　Swift；　in　whom　the　saeva　indignatio　was　a　bitterness
  to　others；　because　it　was　a　bitterness　to　himself。　　Such　a　satirist
  Whistler　was　not。　　He　did　not　laugh　because　he　was　happy；　like　Rabelais。
  But　neither　did　he　laugh　because　he　was　unhappy；　like　Swift。
  The　third　type　of　great　satire　is　that　in　which　he　satirist　is　enabled
  to　rise　superior　to　his　victim　in　the　only　serious　sense　which
  superiority　can　bear；　in　that　of　pitying　the　sinner　and　respecting
  the　man　even　while　he　satirises　both。　　Such　an　achievement　can　be
  found　in　a　thing　like　Pope's　〃Atticus〃　a　poem　in　which　the　satirist
  feels　that　he　is　satirising　the　weaknesses　which　belong　specially
  to　literary　genius。　　Consequently　he　takes　a　pleasure　in　pointing
  out　his　enemy's　strength　before　he　points　out　his　weakness。
  That　is；　perhaps；　the　highest　and　most　honourable　form　of　satire。
  That　is　not　the　satire　of　Whistler。　　He　is　not　full　of　a　great　sorrow
  for　the　wrong　done　to　human　nature；　for　him　the　wrong　is　altogether
  done　to　himself。
  He　was　not　a　great　personality；　because　he　thought　so　much
  about　himself。　　And　the　case　is　stronger　even　than　that。
  He　was　sometimes　not　even　a　great　artist；　because　he　thought
  so　much　about　art。　　Any　man　with　a　vital　knowledge　of　the　human
  psychology　ought　to　have　the　most　profound　suspicion　of　anybody
  who　claims　to　be　an　artist；　and　talks　a　great　deal　about　art。
  Art　is　a　right　and　human　thing；　like　walking　or　saying　one's　prayers；
  but　the　moment　it　begins　to　be　talked　about　very　solemnly；　a　man
  may　be　fairly　certain　that　the　thing　has　come　into　a　congestion
  and　a　kind　of　difficulty。
  The　artistic　temperament　is　a　disease　that　afflicts　amateurs。
  It　is　a　disease　which　arises　from　men　not　having　sufficient　power　of
  expression　to　utter　and　get　rid　of　the　element　of　art　in　their　being。
  It　is　healthful　to　every　sane　man　to　utter　the　art　within　him；
  it　is　essential　to　every　sane　man　to　get　rid　of　the　art　within　him
  at　all　costs。　　Artists　of　a　large　and　wholesome　vitality　get　rid
  of　their　art　easily；　as　they　breathe　easily；　or　perspire　easily。
  But　in　artists　of　less　force；　the　thing　becomes　a　pressure；
  and　produces　a　definite　pain；　which　is　called　the　artistic　temperament。
  Thus；　very　great　artists　are　able　to　be　ordinary　men
  men　like　Shakespeare　or　Browning。　　There　are　many　real　tragedies
  of　the　artistic　temperament；　tragedies　of　vanity　or　violence　or　fear。
  But　the　great　tragedy　of　the　artistic　temperament　is　that　it　cannot
  produce　any　art。
  Whistler　could　produce　art；　and　in　so　far　he　was　a　great　man。
  But　he　could　not　forget　art；　and　in　so　far　he　was　only　a　man　with
  the　artistic　temperament。　　There　can　be　no　stronger　manifestation
  of　the　man　who　is　a　really　great　artist　than　the　fact　that　he　can
  dismiss　the　subject　of　art；　that　he　can；　upon　due　occasion；
  wish　art　at　the　bottom　of　the　sea。　　Similarly；　we　should　always
  be　much　more　inclined　to　trust　a　solicitor　who　did　not　talk　about
  conveyancing　over　the　nuts　and　wine。　　What　we　really　desire　of　any
  man　conducting　any　business　is　that　the　full　force　of　an　ordinary
  man　should　be　put　into　that　particular　study。　　We　do　not　desire
  that　the　full　force　of　that　study　should　be　put　into　an　ordinary　man。
  We　do　not　in　the　least　wish　that　our　particular　law…suit　should
  pour　its　energy　into　our　barrister's　games　with　his　children；
  or　rides　on　his　bicycle；　or　meditations　on　the　morning　star。
  But　we　do；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　desire　that　his　games　with　his　children；
  and　his　rides　on　his　bicycle；　and　his　meditations　on　the　morning　star
  should　pour　something　of　their　energy　into　our　law…suit。　We　do　desire
  that　if　he　has　gained　any　especial　lung　development　from　the　bicycle；
  or　any　bright　and　pleasing　metaphors　from　the　morning　star；　that　the　should
  be　placed　at　our　disposal　in　that　particular　forensic　controversy。
  In　a　word；　we　are　very　glad　that　he　is　an　ordinary　man；　since　that
  may　help　him　to　be　an　exceptional　lawyer。
  Whistler　never　ceased　to　be　an　artist。　　As　Mr。　Max　Beerbohm　pointed
  out　in　one　of　his　extraordinarily　sensible　and　sincere　critiques；
  Whistler　really　regarded　Whistler　as　his　greatest　work　of　art。
  The　white　lock；　the　single　eyeglass；　the　remarkable　hat
  these　were　much　dearer　to　him　than　any　nocturnes　or　arrangements
  that　he　ever　threw　off。　　He　could　throw　off　the　nocturnes；
  for　some　mysterious　reason　he　could　not　throw　off　the　hat。
  He　never　threw　off　from　himself　that　disproportionate　accumulation
  of　aestheticism　which　is　the　burden　of　the　amateur。
  It　need　hardly　be　said　that　this　is　the　real　explanation　of　the　thing
  which　has　puzzled　so　many　dilettante　critics；　the　problem　of　the　extreme
  ordinariness　of　the　behaviour　of　so　many　great　geniuses　in　history。
  Their　behaviour　was　so　ordinary　that　it　was　not　recorded；
  hence　it　was　so　ordinary　that　it　seemed　mysterious。　　Hence　people　say
  that　Bacon　wrote　Shakespeare。　　The　modern　artistic　temperament　cannot
  understand　how　a　man　who　could　write　such　lyrics　as　Shakespeare　wrote；
  could　be　as　keen　as　Shakespeare　was　on　business　transactions　in　a
  little　town　in　Warwickshire。　　The　explanation　is　simple　enough；
  it　is　that　Shakespeare　had　a　real　lyrical　impulse；　wrote　a　real　lyric；
  and　so　got　rid　of　the　impulse　and　went　about　his　business。
  Being　an　artist　did　not　prevent　him　from　being　an　ordinary　man；
  any　more　than　being　a　sleeper　at　night　or　being　a　diner　at　dinner
  prevented　him　from　being　an　ordinary　man。
  All　very　great　teachers　and　leaders　have　had　this　habit
  of　assuming　their　point　of　view　to　be　one　which　was　human
  and　casual；　one　which　would　readily　appeal　to　every　passing　man。
  If　a　man　is　genuinely　superior　to　his　fellows　the　first　thing
  that　he　believes　in　is　the　equality　of　man。　　We　can　see　this；
  for　instance；　in　that　strange　and　innocent　rationality　with　which
  Christ　addressed　any　motley　crowd　that　happened　to　stand　about　Him。
  〃What　man　of　you　having　a　hundred　sheep；　and　losing　one；　would　not　leave
  the　ninety　and　nine　in　the　wilderness；　and　go　after　that　which　was　lost？〃
  Or；　again；　〃What　man　of　you　if　his　son　ask　for　bread　will　he　give
  him　a　stone；　or　if　he　ask　for　a　fish　will　he　give　him　a　serpent？〃
  This　plainness；　this　almost　prosaic　camaraderie；　is　the　note　of　all
  very　great　minds。
  To　very　great　minds　the　things　on　which　men