578 HISTORY OF ART 



of the newer art-criticism are certainly far ahead of all predecessors 

 in knowledge. As for their writing, it is so good that one wonders it is 

 not better. By that I mean more convincing, more satisfying, more 

 acceptable as the final word. " But there is no final word," you say. 

 Pray, why not ? " Because history has to be rewritten every ten 

 years." And again I ask, Why? You may retort about " a new point 

 of view," "more perspective," "a broader outlook," and all that; 

 which is perhaps only another way of saying that we of the present 

 do not see truly or estimate truly, or report truly. If we did, history 

 would not have to be rewritten " every ten years." Either the system 

 or the operator is at fault, and we shall not go far astray if we enter- 

 tain suspicions of both. At any rate, let us look into the matter for 

 a moment. I am not here to combat the higher criticism in art, nor 

 am I here to accept it with an unthinking gulp as one would a dose of 

 medicine. It has been of immense value and is not to be sneered at ; 

 but if it were quite perfect, quite acceptable, there would be no need 

 of revised editions; and the art-historian of the next generation would 

 lack an occupation. Instead of something tentative we should have 

 a finality. 



Now it is frequently said and often with a little smile as though 

 conscious of some absurdity that the archaeologist or historian 

 is lost if he have not imagination. He must have a mind for the 

 plausible and the possible, a mind to discern a mountain in a mole- 

 hill, perceive Praxiteles in a Roman garden sculpture, or a forgotten 

 masterpiece by Giorgione in a panel signed Cariani. And that as a 

 general proposition is perhaps sound enough. It would IDC a strangely 

 deficient intelligence that could not put signs and characteristics 

 together and conclude that Cariani and Giorgione were of the same 

 school and period. That Cariani painted certain alleged Giorgioncs 

 or Correggios is a much longer step, a much larger imagining, and 

 one that may very easily lead us into error unless guarded at every 

 point. Let me illustrate that. 



When Mr. Charles Waldstein saw a water-worn marble head among 

 a group of broken fragments in the Louvre he felt almost instantly, 

 as he tells us. "that this was a work not Roman, but Greek, and 

 moreover of the great period of Greek art." That, to begin with, is 

 a perfectly proper exercise of the archaeologist's imagination. He tells 

 us further that "the conviction soon forced itself upon him that here 

 was a piece of Attic workmanship of the period corresponding to the 

 earlier works of Phidias and, though reserving the final verification 

 for the time when it would be possible to make a detailed examination 

 and comparison with the metopes, he was morally convinced that 

 this was the head of a Lapith belonging to one of the metopes of the 

 Parthenon." So far. so good; but had Mr. Waldstein stopped there 

 and claimed a newlv discovered fact in art-historv bv virtue of his 



