it is not surprising that this turbid medium has left in Winckelmann's actual results much that a more privileged criticism can correct.
He had been twelve years in Rome. Admiring Germany had made many calls to him; at last, in 1768, he set out on a visit with the sculptor Cavaceppi. As he left Rome a strange inverted home-sickness came upon him. He reached Vienna; there he was loaded with honours and presents; other cities were awaiting him. Goethe, then nineteen years old, studying art at Leipsic, was expecting his coming with that wistful eagerness which marked his youth, when the news of Winckelmann's murder arrived. All that fatigue du Nord had revived with double force. He left Vienna, intending to hasten back to Rome. At Trieste a delay of a few days occurred. With characteristic openness Winckelmann had confided his plans to a fellow-traveller, a man named Arcangeli, and had shown him the gold medals which he had received at Vienna. Arcangeli's avarice was roused. One morning he entered Winckelmann's room under pretence of taking leave; Winckelmann was then writing 'memoranda for the future editor of the "History of Art,"' still seeking the perfection of his great work; Arcangeli begged to see the medals once more. As Winckel-
