46 Introduction 



of Hegel and to the meditations of Taine and explains that in order to 

 reach maturity the history of art hke every other historical science re- 

 quired the slow and painful elaboration of a large number of special 

 investigations. You can hardly speak of science before a system or syn- 

 thesis has been created, and on the other hand, the synthesis will hardly 

 be possible before the monographs have been completed. Does this 

 mean that the synthesis must be postponed until the Greek calends? 

 Surely not. Tentative syntheses must be prepared from time to time 

 to make possible further advances; no synthesis is premature which is 

 effected without extravagant claims, humbly and honestly. Each such 

 synthesis is like an encampment in a long, endless march, the march 

 toward truth. Last century, the critical methods of the historian of art 

 were still unknown to the educated public and to the administrators of 

 our colleges, and a man might be called to teach that history on the 

 strength of his familiarity with the great museums and of his "good taste" 

 and his ability to express generalities in the manner of Walter Pater 

 or in the manner of Taine. That time is past. Good taste and good 

 letters are still essential but no longer sufficient. The departments of 

 the history of art of our universities are now manned by well-trained 

 scholars. Their task is admittedly so considerable that it is divided 

 between them — some are experts on early oriental art or Greek art or 

 they deal only with the Renaissance, Baroque, Rococo, or Dada period 

 ( the last-named being, I regret to say, our own ) . The field is too large 

 for one man, although one cannot help hoping that there will appear 

 from time to time a man big enough and bold enough to encompass the 

 whole of it. 



The task of those new historians was facilitated by their friendly ri- 

 valry and their keen emulation. Each one of them might conceive a new 

 method or a new approach, he might discover a lost masterpiece or bring 

 to light forgotten documents. The fruits of their efforts appeared in their 

 publications and they were discussed in seminaries with their students, in 

 colloquia with their rivals, in academic meetings and national and inter- 

 national congresses. To speak only of the latter, for the smaller gather- 

 ings are too numerous to be recalled, the first international congress 

 for the history of art was called to order in Vienna in 1873. Judging 

 from its proceedings, published in the following year, it was a very mod- 

 est undertaking but the first of a long series. The fifteenth congress took 

 place in London, in July 1939, just before the outbreak of the second 

 World War. In these assemblies, historians of art belonging to many 

 countries exhibit their latest discoveries, ventilate their theories, present 

 and compare their results and their methods. Each participant returns 

 to his home and study a little richer in knowledge, surer in his grasp, 

 clearer in his mind, more conscious of the general aim and work, and 

 of his own share in it; sometimes, his education is of a different kind, for 

 his convictions are shaken by the arguments of colleagues who see things 

 in a different light; sometimes, his immature convictions are replaced by 

 doubts, certainties are disturbed by new convictions or new enigmas; 

 that is just as good if not better. In any case, the discipline to which 



