t is
little more than the introduction to the mass of evidence and
illustration which I have yet to bring forward; it treats of nothing but
the initiatory steps of art, states nothing but the elementary rules of
criticism, touches only on merits attainable by accuracy of eye and
fidelity of hand, and leaves for future consideration every one of the
eclectic qualities of pictures, all of good that is prompted by feeling,
and of great that is guided by judgment; and its function and scope
should the less have been mistaken, because I have not only most
carefully arranged the subject in its commencement, but have given
frequent references throughout to the essays by which it is intended to
be succeeded, in which I shall endeavor to point out the signification
and the value of those phenomena of external nature which I have been
hitherto compelled to describe without reference either to their
inherent beauty, or to the lessons which may be derived from them.

Yet, to prevent such misconception in future, I may perhaps be excused
for occupying the reader's time with a fuller statement of the feelings
with which the work was undertaken, of its general plan, and of the
conclusions and positions which I hope to be able finally to deduce and
maintain.

Nothing, perhaps, bears on the face of it more appearance of folly,
ignorance, and impertinence, than any attempt to diminish the honor of
those to whom the assent of many generations has assigned a throne; for
the truly great of later times have, almost without exception, fostered
in others the veneration of departed power which they felt themselves,
satisfied in all humility to take their seat at the feet of those whose
honor is brightened by the hoariness of time, and to wait for the period
when the lustre of many departed days may accumulate on their own heads,
in the radiance which culminates as it recedes. The envious and
incompetent have usually been the leaders of attack, content if, like
the foulness of the earth, they may attract to themselves notice by
their noisomeness, or, like its insects, exalt themselves by virulence
into visibility. While, however, the envy of the vicious, and the
insolence of the ignorant, are occasionally shown in their nakedness by
_futile_ efforts to degrade the dead, it is worthy of consideration
whether they may not more frequently escape detection in _successful_
efforts to degrade the living,--whether the very same malice may not be
grat