no ordinary talent
for analysis are manifest in every chapter of his "Thoughts about Art."
If we were asked where the most intelligent, the most trustworthy, the
most practical, and the most interesting exposition of modern Art and
cognate subjects is to be found, we should point to Hamerton's writings.
As a critic he is not seduced by novelty, and he is free from the
exaggerations of Ruskin; but he does not attain the eloquence and power
of exposition of John Ruskin. Mr. Hamerton is an admirable critic, but
Ruskin is a great advocate. The former is a man of talent; the latter is
a man of genius. In the consideration of Art Mr. Hamerton is as fair,
serious, and exact as is Matthew Arnold in his "Essays in Criticism,"
and, like him, faithfully represents the modern spirit. He does not show
the artistic skill and nicety which distinguish Mr. Arnold; he is not
witty, like Edmond About; he is not concise and masterly, like Eugene
Fromentin; but he is honest, and he covers his ground. We repeat,
therefore, that Mr. Hamerton's writings on Art are useful books, useful
even to artists, and sure to instruct a serious public. Ruskin's
writings aroused attention; they made people think. He stimulated many
to profitable study; but he also created prejudices, and he has
subjected quite as many minds as he has emancipated. Great men are great
tyrants. We escape the great man and the great writer in Hamerton. We
have in him an instructor, not a dictator. John Ruskin came, and, like
John the Baptist, cried, "Repent! repent!"--but Hamerton comes to us as
the apostle of a doctrine that needs exposition more than enunciation,
and he speaks the words of truth and soberness. Those who did not follow
Ruskin laughed and railed at him, and literary executioners hastened to
lay violent hands on him. Hamerton's public was prepared by a powerful
forerunner, and he is therefore neither assailed nor neglected. Mr.
Hamerton's reception in England reflects the nature of his books. He
enters the world of letters not as a great and daring rival, not as an
irresistible iconoclast, not as an affluent and unhesitating
genius,--but as a hearty, cultivated, earnest gentleman who has
something worth communicating. He comes to increase knowledge; he comes
to throw a light on the obscurity and bring order into the chaos of
English Art. For the splendid and misty Turner, the exact and terrible
photograph, the great and inconsistent Ruskin, and the vagaries of
mo