mere ebullition of Christian faith that we find manifestations of it in
Mohammedan art; everyone who has seen a photograph of the Mosque of Omar
at Jerusalem knows that. The emotional renaissance in Europe was not the
wide-spreading of Christian doctrines, but it was through Christian
doctrine that Europe came to know of the rediscovery of the emotional
significance of the Universe. Christian art is not an expression of
specific Christian emotions; but it was only when men had been roused by
Christianity that they began to feel the emotions that express
themselves in form. It was Christianity that put Europe into that state
of emotional turmoil from which sprang Christian art.

For a moment, in the sixth century, the flood of enthusiasm seems to
have carried the Eastern world, even the official world, off its feet.
But Byzantine officials were no fonder of swimming than others. The men
who worked the imperial machine, studied the Alexandrine poets, and
dabbled in classical archaeology were not the men to look forward. Only
the people, led by the monks, were vaguely, and doubtless stupidly, on
the side of emotion and the future. Soon after Justinian's death the
Empire began to divide itself into two camps. Appropriately, religious
art was the standard of the popular party, and around that standard the
battle raged. "No man," said Lord Melbourne, "has more respect for the
Christian religion than I; but when it comes to dragging it into private
life...." At Constantinople they began dragging religion, and art too,
into the sanctity of private capital. Now, no official worth his salt
can watch the shadow being recklessly sacrificed to the substance
without itching to set the police on somebody; and the vigilance and
sagacity of Byzantine civilians has become proverbial. We learn from a
letter written by Pope Gregory II to the Emperor Leo, the iconoclast,
that men were willing to give their estates for a picture. This, to
Pope, Emperor, and Mr. Finlay the historian, was proof enough of