work of Botticelli, with
which it is commonly compared, but reminds us, in its finished grace and
gaiety, of a painting by Watteau. Korin, towards the end of the Ming
period, is about as empty as Velasquez and more brilliant than Frans
Hals. The eighteenth century, one inclines to believe, was the same
everywhere. Stylistic obsession and the taste for material beauty ended
in mechanical prettiness, altogether inexpressive or sentimental. In
both hemispheres painting was reduced to a formula--a formula for
producing elegant furniture.

But even in the age of decay Oriental art retained traces of primitive
splendour. It never sank into mere representation. The men who turned
out the popular Japanese colour-prints, though they chose the same
subjects as the Dutch genre painters, were artists enough to treat them
differently and to look for something significant beneath the mass of
irrelevant accidents. Also they preserved a nicer sensibility to
material beauty. A cheap Japanese print has sometimes the quality of a
painting by Whistler. Indeed, the superiority of the Orientals is
discreetly insinuated from beginning to end of Mr. Binyon's essay.
Equal, if not superior, to the Greek or Christian in the primitive
stage, the Asiatic movement clung to the heights longer, sank more
gradually, and never sank so low. These facts are painful, but patent;
they require explanation.

Why is Oriental art generally superior to European? Bearing in mind what
has been said about the nature of the greatest art, we shall expect it
to be because in the East they have kept in closer touch with reality.
That is precisely what has happened. The emotional life has never been
in the East what it has become in the West, the rare possession of a
fortunate few. There the practical life has been kept subordinate, a
means to supporting the emotional. In China men still go about their
business that they may purchase leisure in which to contemplate reality.
In Europe we are practical; and reality is banished from the life of the
practical man who regards all things as means instead of contemplating
them as ends. He sees just what is of use to him, and no more. He sees
enough for identification and recognition; in fact, he reads the labels
on things. The labels are all he requires. In the emotional life things
are valued for their significance--for what they are, not for what they
can be made to do; they are seen whole because they are seen as ends.
Th