334 A PERPETUAL FLUX 



calling, which must soon shadow and distort my 

 outlook in general and make me see things in a 

 wrong perspective. It is not quite so. I have called 

 myself a field naturalist for convenience' sake, and 

 chiefly because I do not exclude the non-human 

 world from my survey. A field naturalist is an 

 observer of everything he sees — from a man to an 

 ant or a plant. 



We see that this question of art is in a perpetual 

 state of flux. To go back to the last century: we 

 find that Ruskin was regarded as one of the higher 

 critics of art, and that now his teaching is almost 

 universally rejected; that his theory is all wrong 

 for the young men. We also see that there is a revolt 

 of a host of young artists against the art of all who 

 came before them. We see groups in rebellion against 

 what they call conventional art: the very art one 

 knows in fact. These outbursts occur from time to 

 time and tend to grow more frequent. In a little 

 while they die out, and the generation that follows 

 laughs at their folly. But again others spring up to 

 take their place. Looking back, we see they do not 

 and cannot lift art to a high plane. We see that art 

 cannot progress; that on these lines and in that 

 particular direction it reached its highest level ages 

 ago. But the only explanation of these futile attempts 

 is the sense of dissatisfaction with art generally, which 

 every individual, young or old, with an alert pro- 

 gressive mind comes to in his own life. The revolt 

 against "conventional art," even when it results in 

 something we laugh at, is a sign of progress towards 



