ultiplicity will be grouped into larger divisions, each felt by their
increasing aerial perspective, and their instants of individual form,
these into larger, and these into larger still, until all are merged in
the great impression and prevailing energy of the two or three vast
dynasties which divide the kingdom of the scene.

Sec. 15. Both utterly neglected in ancient art.

There is no vestige nor shadow of approach to such treatment as this in
the whole compass of ancient art. Whoever the master, his hills,
wherever he has attempted them, have not the slightest trace of
association or connection; they are separate, conflicting, confused,
petty and paltry heaps of earth; there is no marking of distances or
divisions in their body; they may have holes in them, but no
valleys,--protuberances and excrescences, but no parts; and in
consequence are invariably diminutive and contemptible in their whole
appearance and impression.

Sec. 16. The fidelity of treatment in Turner's Daphne and Leucippas.

But look at the mass of mountain on the right in Turner's Daphne hunting
with Leucippus. It is simple, broad, and united as one surge of a
swelling sea; it rises in an unbroken line along the valley, and lifts
its promontories with an equal slope. But it contains in its body ten
thousand hills. There is not a quarter of an inch of its surface without
its suggestion of increasing distance and individual form. First, on the
right, you have a range of tower-like precipices, the clinging wood
climbing along their ledges and cresting their summits, white waterfalls
gleaming through its leaves; not, as in Claude's scientific ideals,
poured in vast torrents over the top, and carefully keeping all the way
down on the most projecting parts of the sides; but stealing down,
traced from point to point, through shadow after shadow, by their
evanescent foam and flashing light,--here a wreath, and there a
ray,--through the deep chasms and hollow ravines, out of which rise the
soft rounded slopes of mightier mountain, surge beyond surge, immense
and numberless, of delicate and gradual curve, accumulating in the sky
until their garment of forest is exchanged for the shadowy fold of
slumbrous morning cloud, above which the utmost silver peak shines
islanded and alone. Put what mountain painting you will beside this, of
any other artist, and its heights will look like mole-hills in
comparison, because it will not have the unity nor the multi