he work is framed to convey
to the spirit. In the individual work, the inspiring and shaping idea
seeks so to fuse its material that we feel the idea could not have been
phrased in any other way as we surrender to its ultimate appeal,--the
sum of the emotional content which gave it birth and in which it
reaches its fulfillment.

V

THE BACKGROUND OF ART

SCENE: The main hall of the Accademia in Venice.

Time: Noon of a July day.

Dramatis personae: A guide; two drab-colored and tired men; a
group of women, of various ages, equipped with red-covered little
volumes, and severally expressive of great earnestness, wide-eyed
rapture, and giggles.

_The guide, in strident, accentless tones:_ Last work of Titian.
Ninety-nine years old. He died of smallpox.

_A woman:_ Is that it?

_A high voice on the outskirts:_ I'm going to get one for forty
dollars.

_Another voice:_ Well, I'm not going to pay more than fifty for
mine.

_A straggler:_ Eliza, look at those people. Oh, you missed it!
_(Stopping suddenly?)_ My, isn't that lovely!

_Chorus:_ Yes, that's Paris Bordone. Which one is that? He has
magnificent color.

_The guide:_ The thing you want to look at is the five figures in
front.

_A voice:_ Oh, that's beautiful. I love that.

_A man:_ Foreshortened; well, I should say so! But I say, you can't
remember all these pictures.

_The other man:_ Let's get out of this!

_The guide, indicating a picture of the Grand Canal:_ This one has
been restored.

_A girl's voice:_ Why, that's the house where we are staying!

_The guide:_ The next picture . . .

The squad shuffles out of range.

This little comedy, enacted in fact and here faithfully reported, is not
without its pathos. These people are "studying art." They really want
to understand, and if possible, to enjoy. They have visited galleries
and seen many pictures, and they will visit other galleries and see
many more pictures before their return home. They have read
guide-books, noting the stars and double stars; they have dipped into
histories of art and volumes of criticism. They have been told to
observe the dramatic force of Giotto, the line of Botticelli, the
perfect composition of Raphael, the color of Titian; all this they
have done punctiliously. They know in a vague way that Giotto was
much earlier than Raphael, that Botticelli was rather pagan than
Christian, that Titian belonged to the Venetian school. They have
come to the fountain