pated; for
good artists are as plentiful during this epoch as ever they were in
ancient Athens or mediaeval Florence. They must have married-in somewhat
closely, one would think, for this special aptitude to have blossomed
forth so luxuriantly. I cannot here dwell at length on the triumphs of
Aurignacian and Magdalenian artistry. Indeed, what I have seen with my
own eyes on the walls of certain French caves is almost too wonderful to
be described. The simplicity of the style does not in the least detract
from the fullness of the charm. On the contrary, one is tempted to doubt
whether the criterion of complexity applies here--whether, in fact,
progress has any meaning in relation to fine art--since, whether
attained by simple or by complex means, beauty is always beauty, and
cannot further be perfected. Shall we say, then, with Plato that beauty
was revealed to man from the first in its absolute nature, so that the
human soul might be encouraged to seek for the real in its complementary
forms of truth and goodness, such as are less immediately manifest? For
the rest, the soul of these transcendently endowed savages was in other
respects more imperfectly illuminated; as may be gathered from the fact
that they carved and drew partly from the love of their art, but partly
also, and, perhaps, even primarily, for luck. It seems that these
delineations of the animals on which they lived were intended to help
them towards good hunting. Such is certainly the object of a like custom
on the part of the Australian aborigines; there being this difference,
however, that the art of the latter considered as art is wholly
inferior. Now we know enough about the soul of the Australian native,
thanks largely to the penetrating interpretations of Sir Baldwin
Spencer, to greet and honour in him the potential lord of the universe,
the harbinger of the scientific control of nature. It is more than half
the battle to have willed the victory; and the picture-charm as a piece
of moral apparatus is therefore worthy of our deepest respect. The
chariot of progress, of which the will of man is the driver, is drawn by
two steeds, namely, Imagination and Reason harnessed together. Of the
pair, Reason is the more sluggish, though serviceable enough for the
heavy work. Imagination, full of fire as it is, must always set the
pace. So the soul of the Late Palaeolithic hunter, having already in
imagination controlled the useful portion of the animal world, wa