The Art of to-day, unholy and undivine as the Tower of Babel, seems to have incurred the wrath of a mighty godhead, and those who were at work upon it have abandoned it to its fate, and have scattered apart--all speaking different tongues, and all filled with confusion. Precisely on account of the disorder which now prevails in this department of life, sincere and honest people find it difficult to show the interest in it, which would be only compatible with its importance. Probably but few men, to-day, could fall on their knees and sob at the deathbed of a great artist, as Pope Leo X once did. Maybe there are but one or two who, like the Taiko's generals, when Teaism was in the ascendancy in Japan, would prefer the present of a rare work of art to a large grant of territory as a reward of victory;[12] and there is certainly not one individual in our midst but would curl his lips at the thought of a mere servant sacrificing his life for a precious picture. And yet, says the Japanese writer, Okakura-Kakuzo, "many of our favourite dramas in Japan are based on the loss and subsequent recovery of a noted masterpiece."[13] In this part of the world to-day, not only the author, but also the audience for such dramas is entirely lacking. The layman, as well as the artist, knows perfectly well that this is so. Appalled by the disorder, contradictoriness, and difference of opinion among artists, the layman has ceased to think seriously about Art; while artists themselves are so perplexed by the want of solidarity in their ranks, that they too are beginning to question the wherefore of their existence. Not only does every one arrogate to himself the right to utter his word upon Art; but Art's throne itself is now claimed by thousands upon thousands of usurpers--each of whom has a "free personality" which he insists upon expressing,[14] and to whom severe law and order would be an insuperable barrier. Exaggerated individualism and anarchy are the result. But such results are everywhere inevitable, when all æsthetic canons have been abolished, and when there is no longer anybody strong enough to command or to lead. "Knowest thou not who is most needed of all?" says Zarathustra. "He who commandeth great things. "To execute great things is difficult; but the more difficult task is to command great things."[15] Direct commanding of any sort, however, as Nietzsche declares, has ceased long since. "In cases," he observes, "where it is believed that the leader and bell-wether cannot be dispensed with, attempt after attempt is made nowadays to replace commanders by the summing together of clever gregarious men: all representative constitutions, for example, are of this origin."[16]