This alliance, in the beginning only a sentimental one, needed to be legalized by some tame philosopher, some Aristotle of modernism who would make the new barbarism respectable and provide it with a coherent argument and a vocabulary. Such a person was found in T. E. Hulme, who was killed in 1917 before he had developed a well-defined system of aesthetics; who had, however, left enough fragments to be accepted as gospel by a generation starved for suitable philosophico-literary dogma. Hulme was, naturally, a man disappointed with philosophy since the Renaissance. It was no longer ‘pure’; and, searching for a way to purify it, he stumbled on the need which art--painting or sculpture or poetry--had to be philosophically organized and corrected. His concept of the absolute (the search for the absolute is the chief concern, as we have seen, of ‘pure’ philosophy) derided any idea of relativity: it emphasized the general principle of poetic co-ordination; but the general principle rather than the form in which co-ordination should take place. It is significant that the few poems Hulme wrote himself fall under the period classification popular in his time, Imagism. In his desire to co-ordinate and correctly generalize, Hulme fell into the familiar philosophical confusion--the confusion of analogy. Art, for instance, is a philosophical term invented for the convenience of classification, not a term that poetry would naturally invent for itself, though painting and sculpture, on the other hand, might. To the philosopher, however, the most accurate term is the most general rather than the most particular, and so to Hulme a common co-ordination of the ‘arts’ of painting, sculpture and poetry seemed possible and necessary. The fundamental fallacy in such an attempted co-ordination appears with the difficulty which poetry has to face in entering a new artificially barbaric era. In painting and sculpture neither colour nor stone had been intrinsically affected by the romantic works in which they had been used. To escape the Renaissance, painting and sculpture merely had to revert to barbaric modes--negroid, Oceanic, Aztec, Egyptian, Chinese, archaic Greek--creating modern forms as if in primitive times; forms primitive, obedient to the conventions which they accepted, therefore final, absolute, ‘abstract’. But poetry could not seemingly submit itself to an _as if_, because its expressive medium, language, had been intrinsically affected not only by the works in which it had been used but also by all the non-poetic uses of which language is capable. This difference between poetry and more regular arts points to a variance in poetry and suggests the probable falsity of all philosophical generalizations on art. The falsity is the falsity of analogy; yet analogy is the strongest philosophical instrument of co-ordination. Since poetry as an art is not sufficiently regular, not sufficiently professional, it is to become so by being made more