Without assuming the philosophical principles from which Taine has derived his theory of the ideal in art, we may therefore understand and accept his scale of gradation of the relative value of works of art. And similarly we may interpret in an emotionalistic way all the rules of artistic composition and of conventionalising treatment of nature which have been proposed by intellectualistic authors on æsthetic. The nude figure in painting and sculpture, as well as the simple mythological themes in poetry and literature, will thus for ever retain their pre-eminence as subjects of artistic treatment. But this pre-eminence does not depend for its justification upon the fact that they give us an incarnation of the philosophical notion of the ideal man. It is sufficiently accounted for by their power of conveying a fuller and richer emotional content than any individually defined motive. Thus it can be explained why even spectators who have almost completely outgrown—or, if the expression is preferred, have fallen away from—idealistic ways of _thought_ are nevertheless ready to appreciate the idealistic _feeling_ in the art of Puvis de Chavannes. It cannot be denied, however, that those motives which in the Hegelian æsthetic are considered as beautiful _par excellence_ have been relatively neglected in modern art. To some extent this circumstance may be explained by the notion which is gaining more and more ground in the public mind—to wit, that in every single phenomenon we may see a _résumé_ of the whole process of evolution. For it is evident that a spectator who has once adopted this philosophical way of looking at things may find even a well-represented piece of still-life quite as rich and æsthetically saturated as a painting of the most universal motive. A more important cause, however, is to be found in the fact that modern art, when endeavouring to convey large and full contents by single vehicle-impressions, has learned to avail itself of vehicles which cannot, properly speaking, be called either typical or representative. In literature especially we may observe that authors dwell with instinctive predilection on the description of scenes and events which open our eyes to large views behind them. It would be impossible to characterise all such favourite motives as beautiful; it is also often difficult to show that there is any general idea embodied in them. But they have invariably the quality of being emotional centres, in which a multiplicity of feelings and sensations has been united. By this quality they become apt to serve the purposes which are essential to the artistic craving; and by the same quality they satisfy the requirement of fullest possible enjoyment which is made by the spectator. What we demand of the perfect work of art is—to resort to an often-used image—that it shall be as a shell, which we may lift in our hand and bring to our ear, but in which, notwithstanding its smallness,