uce an effect of greater reality as he
was ready to appreciate the need of a firmer hold on life. In painting,
as I have said, a greater effect of reality is chiefly a matter of light
and shadow, to be obtained only by considering the canvas as an enclosed
space, filled with light and air, through which the objects are seen.
There is more than one way of getting this effect, but Titian attains it
by the almost total suppression of outlines, by the harmonising of his
colours, and by the largeness and vigour of his brushwork. In fact, the
old Titian was, in his way of painting, remarkably like some of the best
French masters of to-day. This makes him only the more attractive,
particularly when with handling of this kind he combined the power of
creating forms of beauty such as he has given us in the "Wisdom" of the
Venetian Royal Palace, or in the "Shepherd and Nymph" of Vienna. The
difference between the old Titian, author of these works, and the young
Titian, painter of the "Assumption," and of the "Bacchus and Ariadne,"
is the difference between the Shakspeare of the "Midsummer-Night's
Dream" and the Shakspeare of the "Tempest." Titian and Shakspeare begin
and end so much in the same way by no mere accident. They were both
products of the Renaissance, they underwent similar changes, and each
was the highest and completest expression of his own age. This is not
the place to elaborate the comparison, but I have dwelt so long on
Titian, because, historically considered, he is the only painter who
expressed nearly all of the Renaissance that could find expression in
painting. It is this which makes him even more interesting than
Tintoretto, an artist who in many ways was deeper, finer, and even more
brilliant.

=XIV. Humanity and the Renaissance.=--Tintoretto grew to manhood when the
fruit of the Renaissance was ripe on every bough. The Renaissance had
resulted in the emancipation of the individual, in making him feel that
the universe had no other purpose than his happiness. This brought an
entirely new answer to the question, "Why should I do this or that?" It
used to be, "Because self-instituted authority commands you." The answer
now was, "Because it is good for men." In this lies our greatest debt to
the Renaissance, that it instituted the welfare of man as the end of all
action. The Renaissance did not bring this idea to practical issue, but
our debt to it is endless on account of the results the idea has
produced