In the development of art _all_ these exhibitions have their values. They are not unlike an army in a campaign, with its scouts, its skirmishers, its advance guard, and its more slowly moving main body--in the end it is the main body that does the most work. The _value_ of every _new_ movement lies in the possibility of its ultimately _contributing_ something to the mass, _not_ in the possibility of its _destroying_ what has been done. * * * * * One has but to recall that both Whistler and Manet--to mention no others--were obliged to exhibit in the Salon des Refuses of their day to realize that an _independent_ salon has its place in the art world quite as important as an official; in fact, wherever there is an _official_ exhibition there should be an _un_-official, or independent, as a natural complement, otherwise the opportunity of the public to see _for itself_ is limited by official discretion. * * * * * For instance, it is the rule of the National Academy in New York that every member and associate has _the right_ to hang a picture irrespective of its merits. As the space is limited the chance for new men is small indeed. Furthermore it is the older men who pass upon the works of the newer and naturally they feel an instinctive aversion to paintings that clash with or distract attention from their own, hence the more radical, the more novel, the more interesting the picture the less chance it has of being accepted. This is both a fault and a virtue in the Academy--the fault and the virtue of extreme conservatism. To correct the fault other exhibitions, held under freer conditions, are absolutely necessary not only to the progress of artists, young and old, but to stimulate interest in the public, to make the public feel that _it_ is something more than a passive spectator with nothing to say, but on the contrary _its sympathetic cooperation_ and _final verdict_ of approval are desired. * * * * * Nothing is more deadly to the art of a country than a single annual official exhibition such, for instance, as that of the Royal Academy in London, or the old Salon as it was thirty years ago in Paris. The interest of the public is not aroused. The official selection is accepted as a matter of course. What is in the exhibitions is supposed to be good, what is not accepted is supposed to be bad. As a result, the really good pictures in such exhibitions are not appreciated at their true value, while the poor are bought simply because they are there. The truth is it requires the new salons, the independent exhibitions to give vitality to the old, to teach the public to appreciate the good in the old.