particular problem, only because they have greater knowledge than ourselves of the relevant facts. But in the region of Aesthetics, what are the relevant facts? If the worth of beauty lie in the emotion which it occasions, special knowledge can only be of importance when it heightens that emotion. It may be a stimulus, but how can it be a guide?
Now, as I have already pointed out, there are many cases where special knowledge does serve to heighten emotion; indeed, there are cases where, without that knowledge, no emotion would be felt at all. The pleasure consciously derived from masterly workmanship is one case in point. Another is, where a work of art seems nearly unmeaning, considered out of its historical setting, and yet shines with significant beauty when that setting has been provided for us by the labours of the critic.
But is there not another side to this question? Does not the direct appeal made to uncultivated receptivity by what critics would describe as very indifferent art, sometimes produce aesthetic emotion which, measured by its intensity, might be envied by the most delicate connoisseur? Who shall deny that the schoolboy, absorbed in some tale of impossible adventure, incurious about its author, indifferent to its style, interested only in the breathless
