earlier or later than that volume, may be considered as the more
detailed application of those principles to particular artists, to whole
schools and epochs, even, in one case, to the entire history of the
arts. The essay on Raphael, for instance, is little else than an
illustration of the chapter on "Design"; that on Millet illustrates the
three chapters on "The Subject in Art," on "Design," and on "Drawing";
while "Two Ways of Painting" contrasts, in specific instances, the
classic with the modern point of view.

But there is another thread connecting these essays, for all of them
will be found to have some bearing, more or less direct, upon the
subject of the title essay. "The Illusion of Progress" elaborates a
point more slightly touched upon in "Artist and Public"; the careers of
Raphael and Millet are capital instances of the happy productiveness of
an artist in sympathy with his public or of the difficulties, nobly
conquered in this case, of an artist without public appreciation; the
greatest merit attributed to "The American School" is an abstention
from the extravagances of those who would make incomprehensibility a
test of greatness. Finally, the work of Saint-Gaudens is a noble example
of art fulfilling its social function in expressing and in elevating the
ideals of its time and country.

This last essay stands, in some respects, upon a different footing from
the others. It deals with the work and the character of a man I knew and
loved, it was originally written almost immediately after his death, and
it is therefore colored, to some extent, by personal emotion. I have
revised it, rearranged it, and added to it, and I trust that this
coloring may be found to warm, without falsifying, the picture.

The essay on "The Illusion of Progress" was first printed in "The