Fifthly, industrial designers have not received due recognition and are not well organized in relation to the industries. The designer is not always as well acquainted with the special qualities and limitations of the material to which his designs are to be applied as he might be; the manufacturer does not often enough realize the importance of the designer; and the young artist is apt to despise design--naturally, because personal public recognition is never awarded to the designer--and the best men prefer more pretentious if more precarious fields. These shortcomings would, however, be removed as a matter of course were the other limitations to be removed. Great improvements in industrial art cannot, however, be expected until the general education and artistic appreciation of the public has developed. Applied art will always move more slowly than fine art, since the utility-factor will ever bring about a conflict of expediency versus ideals. Architecture presents special difficulties, because it is at once aggressive and unavoidable, and because it depends upon environment. In other words, though we may, if we can afford, eschew the ugly pot, tawdry furniture, and (so far at least as our indoor life is concerned) garish clothing, we cannot avoid buildings. They form a large part of our environment and influence our mental and bodily health. Those who live in dirty, flat-fronted, unbroken streets have to resist actively their environment if they would avoid dirty, drab, monotonous lives. Those who daily traverse roads consisting of disorderly jumbles of architectural misfits lose the sense of serenity, order, and fitness they might gain in happier surroundings. The second of the points mentioned before is that no building can be judged apart from its surroundings. An essential of every work of art is that its parts shall form a well-balanced whole, each detail being subordinated to the general effect, which must convey a sense of completeness. Now, until recently we have (with occasional exceptions) failed to realize that the unit of architecture, so far as outward appearance is concerned, is not the individual building but the whole street, everything, in fact, which is in view from any one point. No one would suggest that the wall of a picture-gallery was artistic because the individual pictures were good, and yet, although much more care and artistry is devoted to hanging pictures than is spent in arranging the contiguity of buildings, we seem to be quite satisfied with haphazard town-planning. Yet all who sorrow at the wilful waste and destruction of the beautiful must lament when they see, as they must often do, noble and beautiful edifices or the simple but refined works of architects, who as a rule devote more love and receive less incentive than any other art workers, ruined by their surroundings.