There is still another difficulty in the restora tion of buildings, namely, the introduction of later, though still early, details. Thus in a Gothic cathedral, especially in England, one whole bay of the north or south aisle will have been built up with 14th century windows, con trasting oddly with the English° fenes tration of the neighboring bays. Shall the restorer respect these changes of an earlier time, or shall he sweep them all away and make the church that which, according to his best lights, it was in (say) 1195? It is evident that there is great room for disagreement as to this, and that no restoration of such building can ever satisfy the student altogether. It is evi dent that every precaution should be taken to save the old work and that the interests of fine, art and archaeology alike demand the preserva tion of every bit and scrap of building as it has reached us from antiquity, repairs being car ried out only in so far as to save the ancient pile with all its details. At the same time ex cuses can readily be found for those who advo cate a sweeping restoration: for, as they would say, the building was meant to be used and was meant to have a certain general aspect: is it not probable that we know enough to put it back to its original character? Unbelieving critics can never persuade these people of their own probable ignorance.
In sculpture the case is more simple. Until within the last 25 years an important antique statue was generally restored, and the most skil fully carried out restoration was perhaps that of the 2Egina sculptures in the Glyptothek in Munich. These are said to have been directed by the celebrated sculptor Bertel Thorwaldsen, and they have a wonderful appearance of verity, while at the same time no one can say how far the surface of the marbles found in "Egina have been lowered in places to agree with the restoration. It has always been con sidered a wonderful piece of good fortune at a time too early for such intelligence in archaeo logical matters — the preservation from restora tions of the Venus of Milo in the Louvre, this preservation having been largely the result of disagreement. On the other hand, the finds of the years since 1870 are much more commonly preserved intact: no one will think of restoring the Hermes of Olympia. Even in our own time. however, such slight injuries as the breaking of two or three fingers in the Augustus of Otricoli in the Vatican, or in the Venus of the Capitol, are pretty certain to be repaired, but then it is the custom of all properly managed museums that a label shall hang on the pedestal with a full description of the additions made, and the catalogues of the better organized museums contain also such a mention in full.
In the matter of painting it has long been understood that there is only one safe way and that is to refrain from bringing a brushful of paint anywhere near the canvas. The old pic ture has suffered certain injuries; it must not, therefore, be subjected to the greater injury of falsification. As late as 1N5 paintings in several of the museums of Europe were under going repainting of the most radical sort. Any person who was looking into the matter at that time would miss from its place in a church or gallery some great canvas. If he were shrewd and bold he would get sight of that canvas set up against a wall on its side or on its head perhaps, and there undergoing a proc ess of repainting in sky or drapery at the hands of the most unintelligent operative who could use a palette and a painter's pencil. By and by the picture would be in its old place again and then the few who look closely into a picture would feel that their old friend and inspirer was gone. The director of just such a restora tion said to the writer that be was quite aware of the opinion of the foreign visitors that this ought not to be done — that only a patch of neutral color should be put in where an Actual blister had existed — where color had left the canvas altogether — that, in short, the picture should be mended, but not repaired and re newed with an attempt to imitate its original surface. He was a good-tempered old gentle man and made no pretense at artistic pride in his work, which indeed was going on at the hands of the most forlorn and careless copyists, but it was his work, for which his salary was paid. It was suggested long ago that every picture in a public gallery should have hung on its frame an exact account of what had been done to it and when—whether partial repaint ing or repairing of positive injuries, revarnish ing, transferring from wood to canvas or the like. This, however, has not been done as yet, and the student of the most precious paint ings in the world is grievously handicapped by the primary difficulty of discovering what is really the artist's work and what is the ignorant tinkering of irresponsible moderns. Consult Holyoake, M. L., (Restoration of Paintings) (in Magazine of Art London 1900) • Secco-Suardo, del depinti) (Milan 1894).