the
diseases that we have inherited from the Classical Renaissance. He will
have heard the value of a picture made to depend on the interpretation
of a letter. He will have heard the picture discussed from every point
of view except that of one who feels its significance. By whom was it
made? For whom was it made? When was it made? Where was it made? Is it
all the work of one hand? Who paid for it? How much did he pay? Through
what collections has it passed? What are the names of the figures
portrayed? What are their histories? What the style and cut of their
coats, breeches, and beards? How much will it fetch at Christie's? All
these are questions to moot; and mooted they will be, by the hour. But
in expert conclaves who has ever heard more than a perfunctory and silly
comment on the aesthetic qualities of a masterpiece?

We have seen the scholars at loggerheads over the genuineness of a
picture in the National Gallery. The dispute rages round the
interpretation of certain marks in the corner of the canvas. Are they,
or are they not, a signature? Whatever the final decision may be, the
picture will remain unchanged; but if it can be proved that the marks
are the signature of the disciple, it will be valueless. If the Venus of
Velasquez should turn out to be a Spanish model by del Mazo, the great
ones who guide us and teach the people to love art will see to it, I
trust, that the picture is moved to a position befitting its mediocrity.
It is this unholy alliance between Expertise and Officialdom[18] that
squanders twenty thousand on an unimpeachable Frans Hals, and forty
thousand on a Mabuse for which no minor artist will wish to take
credit.[19] For the money a judicious purchaser could have made one of
the finest collections in England. The unholy alliance has no use for
contemporary art. The supply is considerable and the names are not
historic. Snobbery makes acceptable the portrait of a great lady, though
it be by Boldini; and even Mr. Lavery may be welcome if he come with the
picture of a king. But how are our ediles to know whether a picture of a
commoner, or of some inanimate and undistinguished object, by Degas or
Cezanne is good or bad? They need not know whether a picture by Hals is
good; they need only know that it is by Hals.

I will not describe in any detail the end of the slope, from the
beginning of the seventeenth to the middle of the nineteenth century.
The seventeenth century is rich in individual