a strict line of demarcation, and to bring all critical
work under one or the other head of this exhaustive
division. Criticism without accurate science
of the thing criticised can indeed have no other value
than may belong to the genuine record of a spontaneous
impression; but it is not less certain that criticism
which busies itself only with the outer husk or technical
shell of a great artist’s work, taking no account
of the spirit or the thought which informs it, cannot
have even so much value as this. Without study
of his forms of metre or his scheme of colours we
shall certainly fail to appreciate or even to apprehend
the gist or the worth of a painter’s or a poet’s
design; but to note down the number of special words
and cast up the sum of superfluous syllables used
once or twice or twenty times in the structure of
a single poem will help us exactly as much as a naked
catalogue of the colours employed in a particular picture.
A tabulated statement or summary of the precise number
of blue or green, red or white draperies to be found
in a precise number of paintings by the same hand
will not of itself afford much enlightenment to any
but the youngest of possible students; nor will a
mere list of double or single, masculine or feminine
terminations discoverable in a given amount of verse
from the same quarter prove of much use or benefit
to an adult reader of common intelligence. What
such an one requires is the guidance which can be
given by no metremonger or colour-grinder: the
suggestion which may help him to discern at once the
cause and the effect of every choice or change of
metre and of colour; which may show him at one glance
the reason and the result of every shade and of every
tone which tends to compose and to complete the gradual
scale of their final harmonies. This method of
study is generally accepted as the only one applicable
to the work of a great painter by any criticism worthy
of the name: it should also be recognised as
the sole method by which the work of a great poet can
be studied to any serious purpose. For the student
it can be no less useful, for the expert it should
be no less easy, to trace through its several stages
of expansion and transfiguration the genius of Chaucer
or of Shakespeare, of Milton or of Shelley, than the
genius of Titian or of Raffaelle, of Turner or of
Rossetti. Some great artists there are of either
kind in whom no such process of growth or transformation
is perceptible: of these are Coleridge and Blake;
from the sunrise to the sunset of their working day
we can trace no demonstrable increase and no visible
diminution of the divine capacities or the inborn defects
of either man’s genius; but not of such, as
a rule, are the greatest among artists of any sort.