SCIENCE AND ART.
(A Paper read at the Camera Club Conference, held in the rooms of the Society of Arts, London, on March 26th, 1889.)
Mr. President, Ladies, and Fellow-Photographers,—Before beginning this paper I would fain ask of you two things,—your attention and your charity, but especially your charity. The reception which you accord me, ladies and gentlemen, assures me you will give both, and I thank you beforehand.
Since all mental progress consists, as Mr. Herbert Spencer has shown, for the most part in differentiation,—that is in the analysis of an unknown complex into known components,—surely it were a folly to confuse any longer the aims of Science and Art. Rather should we endeavour to draw an indelible line of demarcation between them, for in this way we make mental progress, and Science and Art at the same time begin to gather together their scattered forces, each one taking under its standard those powers that belong to it, and thus becoming integrated, and necessarily stronger and more permanent; for evolution is integration and differentiation passing into a coherent heterogeneity. Now, I do not mean to premise that this confusion between Science and Art exists everywhere,—it does not. But I feel sure that it exists largely in the ever-increasing body of persons who practise photography. The majority of them have not thoroughly, nay, not even adequately, thought the matter out. It is obvious then, according to the teachings of evolution, that, if we are to make progress, this differentiation must be made, thoroughly understood, and rigidly adhered to by every practitioner of photography. Each one must have his aim clearly stamped upon his mind, whether it be the advancement of Science or the creation of works whose aim and end is to give æsthetic pleasure. Proceed we now to analyze the difference between the aims and ends of Science and Art.
Let us first approach the subject from the scientific standpoint.
Assuming that we have before us a living man, let us proceed together to study him scientifically, for the nonce imagining our minds to be virginal tablets, without score or scratch. Let us proceed first to record the colour of his skin, his hair and eyes, the texture of his skin, the relative positions of the various orifices in his face, the number of his limbs, the various measurements of all these members. So we go on integrating and differentiating until we find that we have actually built up a science,—ethnology. If we pursue the study, and begin to compare different races of men with each other, we find our ethnology extends to a more complex anthropology.
We next observe that the eyelids open and close, the lips open, sounds issue from the mouth, and our curiosity leads us to dissect a dead subject, and we find that beneath the skin, fat, and superficial fasciæ there are muscles, each supplied with vessels and nerves. We trace these vessels and nerves to their common origins, and are led to the heart and brain. In short, we find the science of anatomy grows up under our hands, and if we go on with our studies we are led into microscopy. Then we begin to ponder on the reasons why the blood flows, on the reasons why the corrugator supercilii and depressores anguli oris act in weeping, the musculus superbus in practical arrogance, and the levator anguli oris in snarling or sneering. So we go on studying the functions of all the organs we find in our man, and lo! we are deep in physiology; and if we go deeply enough we find the thread lost in the most complex problems of organic chemistry and molecular physics. And so we might go on studying this man; and if our lives were long enough, and if we had capacity enough, we should be led through a study of this man to a knowledge of all physical phenomena, so wonderful and beautiful is the all-pervading principle of the conservation of energy, and so indestructible is matter. As we proceeded with our studies we should have been observing, recording, positing hypotheses, and either proving or disproving them. In all these ways we should have been adding to the sum of knowledge. And in the greatest steps we made in our advancement we should have made use of our constructive imagination,—the highest intellectual power, according to recent psychologists.
The results of these investigations, if we were wise, would have been recorded in the simplest and tersest language possible, for such is the language of Science. It is needless to point out that in these records of our studies, as in the records of all scientific studies, too many facts could not possibly be registered. Every little fact is welcome in scientific study, so long as it is true. And thus the humblest scientific worker may help in the great work; his mite is always acceptable. Such is, alas! not the case with that jealous goddess, Art: she will have nothing to do with mediocrity. A bad work of art has no raison-d'être; it is worse than useless,—it is harmful.
To sum up, then, “Science,” as Professor Huxley says, “is the knowledge of the laws of Nature obtained by observation, experiment, and reasoning. No line can be drawn between common knowledge of things and scientific knowledge; nor between common reasoning and scientific reasoning. In strictness, all accurate knowledge is Science, and all exact reasoning is scientific reasoning. The method of observation and experiment by which such great results are obtained in Science is identically the same as that which is employed by every one, every day of his life, but refined and rendered precise.”