Word comes from Budapesth of the discovery by some workmen of a "genuine" Leonardo da Vinci, supposedly lost for decades, and the world of art, thoroughly sophisticated by now, stops very properly to make sure before applauding. Too many great "finds" have been hailed with delight by the dealers, and praised to the skies, only to turn out to be, "sells", much to the discomfiture of the critics and the joy of the uninitiated.

There is an epidemic of art masterpieces turning up or being "found" at present. The "hard times" caused by the war have brought out into the light of day literally hundreds of great and pseudo-great paintings, many of them authentic, hoarded up for generations by families now impecunious, and handed down along with the patent of nobility, as things to be kept in the family. In London, there has been discovered recently a reputed portrait of Shakespeare; in France a score of Millet paintings hitherto unknown have been brought out of some forgotten corner; and Murillo's "Gentleman of Seville", after languishing for a century and a quarter in a remote Irish castle, has been found, neglected, unwashed, and uncared for and now brushed up and tidy again is about to resume his rightful place in the galleries. Only a day or so ago a Nova Scotia workman stopped in at a little shop to buy a picture which had taken his fancy. After taking it home and cleaning it, he found an entirely new surface revealed, declared now to be a Rembrandt, and therefore worth thousands.

Therein lies the difficulty. The field is exceedingly lucrative for a clever "faker". It is necessary only to find in some garret a respectable painting; sufficiently powdered with dust and old-looking, tell the world about it, and the hoax is sure to find a buyer. The work may not succeed in the distinction of being called a Titian or a Rembrandt for long, but if advertised properly is sure to fool someone who knows nothing about art and buys for the name alone. Under modern methods of publicity, "finds" can be staged which will outdo Mark Twain's story of the success of Francois Millet. Even the sacro-sanct,--the critics,--are far from infallible. The world has not yet forgotten the suit over Gainsborough's "Sisters", which dragged on for weeks with critics of the first rank arguing on both sides before determining whether the picture was genuine, and worth thousands, or false and worth nothing. The much mooted question as to the ethics of fabulous prices in art, the value of pictures, and so on, can be left to the philosophers to decide; in the meantime, a thriving trade is being done by that shrewdest of business men,--the art "faker".