period in Egypt, of the expansive force of mediaeval peoples, or of the spirit of the Age of Louis XIV. Does Botticelli represent less than Petrarch, Durer less than Luther, the fundamental characteristics of their respective ages? What would Greece be without the spirit of the works attributed to Phidias, or Rome of the Renaissance without a Michaelangelo, and yet I have not the least doubt but that hundreds of young American men are graduating yearly from our colleges, even in our much vaunted literary courses, who could not tell you with certainty whether or not Phidias built the Colosseum, or Michaelangelo wrote the Divine Comedy. Facts of this kind in the college curriculum are like the cities of Hildesheim or Carcassonne in the itinerary of the European tourist-not being on the traditional "beaten track," they are therefore left aside as unimportant. And yet, what globe trotter initiated into the inner mysteries of the "art of travel" would miss the inspiration of those two mediaeval towns! What a source of ideas and information is closed to the student of literature and history who has not grasped the idyllic side of mediaeval life through an acquaintance with a Van Eyck or a Memling; whose knowledge of the virile character and homely customs of the low countries has not been fortified on the works of a Terburg or Teniers; who has not breathed the air of social independence before a Van der Helst or a Hals; whose idea of mediaeval Germany has not been broadened and deepened by all that the "Cathedral of Cologne" or "Durer" suggest to the informed student; who does not know how to turn as well to Poussin or Lorraine as to the interlude farces of Moliere for a reflection of the pastoralism and affected erudition of the Age of Louis XIV; who does not realize that should every other visible evidence of the existence of Holland of the seventeenth century disappear, and the paintings remain, in them would be found preserved almost every detail of its public or private life; in a word who has not been taught to turn for emphatic expression of racial characteristics and differences to a Murillo or a Rubens as well as to a Shakes peare or a Racine!

The study of art and history go hand in hand. Just as the modern historian turns to the pages of Dante as the living

reflection of his time, so must the historian of such a period as a "Leonine Age" in Italy turn again and again to the chronicles writ in stone and on canvas for the materials with which to complete an adequate judgment, or a truthful portrayal, of the inner workings of such a pregnant age. The greatest periods in the world's history-the age of Pericles, of the Medici, of Francis the First-are to the student but formless torso, little more than bare catalogues of names, dates and events, when stripped of their priceless, unaging adornment of literature and of art.

Nor is the inter-relationship of art and literature any less intimate or less important to the student. What an invaluable commentary to the Divine Comedy runs through the whole art of the Renaissance, revealing the interpretation of various ages and various minds! How could the great art works of "the City on the Arno" be appreciated, or even understood, without a general knowledge of the literary works out of which many of them grew? What would the work of a Giotto be deprived of the inspiration of the life and teachings of Saint Francis? Are not the idealized and gracious faces of so many sculptured female figures of the Gothic Period a reflection of the idealization of woman as sung in the Troubadour and ́ Minnesinger poetry of mediaeval days? The comical attitudes given so frequently by cathedral sculptors to their representations of the priesthood would be difficult to understand did not the history of literature afford us examples of the same tendency toward good-natured fun-poking at the clergy in the liturgical drama of the time. The mighty workings of the collectivistic energy of many ages is stamped as plainly upon the Gothic minster as upon the Nibelungenlied.

Such is an imperfect statement of the claims of the history of art to recognition as a most important college discipline. Statistics show that American colleges are beginning to realize its educative value. In certain institutions, such as Harvard, Tufts and Colgate, a large proportion of the senior class of this year have studied the subject-in Colgate about sixty per cent. From this encouraging showing we can descend through every gradation of organization and method of instruction to institutions not offering the subject in any form, and on down,

I use the words advisedly, to a certain state institution where it is taught by a professor of "domestic economy." It is with great satisfaction that I state that this year a number of institutions have incorporated the subject into their curricula for the first time.

If now our college courses have become materialistic, if there be a growing call for reform, if the history of art be a virile subject, if it be a subject dealing with the evolution of man as truly as political or literary history, if it be a universal language, if it be an antidote to jingoism, if it can bring great thoughts impressively to the mind of the student, if it reflects admirably the spirit of an age, if it interprets national character, if it go hand in hand with political history, if there be an intimate relationship between it and literature, if leading institutions have begun to see its value, then ought not all institutions of higher learning in this country be led, through the good offices of such associations as the American Federation of Arts, to adopt the history of art, as is the case with history and literature, as one of the most valuable courses of the curriculum?*

The colleges in their academic courses, should have nothing to do with the technical side of art instruction. That is the business of the art schools. The future college course in art history should concern itself with the philosophic and historic side of the subject. As I conceive it, this course should be a senior course, capping, as it were, the whole sub-structure of the curriculum. By reason of its intimate relationship to the historical and literary disciplines, it would serve, as no other subject could, to gather into a related whole all the dropped threads of the students' former courses. The majority of the students leave our colleges with but little idea of the inter-relationship of the various disciplines into which they have dipped. Each subject "History of the Reformation," "Romantic Movement in German Literature," "Greek Syntax," "Chaucer," "Kant," "Renaissance in Italy," and what not-are to them separate

*The hearty approval which the address elicited from men of all professions encourages the author to believe that the public feels the need of just such a course. A strong resolution endorsing the ideas set forth in the address was adopted unanimously by the convention.

and distinct subjects. As well try to make cake by placing flour, sugar, butter and eggs into separate boxes, and then stirring the boxes together, as to expect to produce a cultured product out of a brain in which the various disciplines of the course rattle around as distinct, not to say hazy, entities! There is no question but that the need has long been felt for a strong, final course which would tend to bring order out of chaos by summing up the great facts and periods with which the student has been occupied in the courses of the literary departments. I especially favor a course in art history for this purpose, not only because it is admirably adapted to serve as a clearing house in the sense I have mentioned, but because it will develop those qualities of the mind which have lain dormant throughout the college course,-all those finer qualities that spring from contact with aesthetic subjects. The great periods of the world's history would be seen from another viewpoint. The influence of literature upon art would necessarily emphasize the great periods of the history of literature. The development of Christian art could not be treated independently of the great periods in the history of religion. Social and economic conditions which have brought about the rise, development and fall of great civilizations could not be passed over. Racial characteristics and differences would be brought out through their reflection in the art of the nations. The course would serve as a conciliator, inspiring respect for the past and a just appreciation of what is best in the character and civilization of other races than our own.

This "senior course in the history of art" should be taught by a man of the broadest catholicity of taste and sympathy. The instructor should be a man as familiar with literature and history as with the history of art. We could wish him to be a man of the type of the late Professor Norton of Harvard, who could lead on the student by the fire of his enthusiasm to the realization of what "man's sacrifice to beauty" has done for the race. Who could make a new light to shine into the dark places and a warming ray to dissipate the mists of the more or less disconnected years of the college course. Who could interpret to surprised ears "the never-dying soul of great ages. Then would the student, with a feeling almost akin to awe, begin to

catch the distant notes of the infinite harmony of nature-begin to feel the heart throb of humanity. Such a senior course would be no universal panacea for the necessary shortcomings of the curriculum. It would, however, afford the opportunity and the incentive for the cultivation of those qualities of the human mind that make life so rich, so diverse, so poetical.

To serve as a life line in the dizzy vortex of a materialistic sea, would be the supreme function of the "Art History Course of the Future."