It is, however, only in such direct manifestations as the simplest song, dance, and poetry that the artistic activity itself is accessible to our analysis. With regard to those higher forms of art in which the dramatic and epic elements play an important part, it may indeed be contended that even they originate in an emotional craving for expression. And it can be proved, as we have tried to show in the preceding chapters, that such a theory gives us the best explanation of the life-preserving influence of artistic creation. But it is not to be concealed that, as far as painting, sculpture, and the higher forms of poetry are concerned, this view is exclusively based upon hypothesis. It cannot be considered as established so long as we have no authentic information on the feelings and impulses which direct a sculptor or a painter in his work. The only competent witnesses who can give us this information—namely, the artists themselves—have generally paid too little attention to theoretic problems to make any observations on their own mental states during the task of creation; and even when they do so they are deterred by a natural sense of propriety from making any public revelations on a matter which affects their most intimate emotional life. All the more impertinent would it be for an outsider to make _a priori_ assertions on the psychical motives for their work. While entitled to speak with some confidence on the simple, universal arts, the theoretical observer cannot, with regard to the specialised crafts, rely upon either experience or sympathetic understanding. The only safe point of departure is here the objective work. Our interpretation can be considered as conclusively established only if we are able to show that the distinctive qualities of the work of art, as met with in the highest manifestations of art, are such as to provide some emotional state with the most adequate and most convincing expression.