ish the proper virtue of Line work, as essentially
"De-Lineation," the expressing by outline the true limits of forms,
which distinguish and part them from other forms; just as the virtue of
brush work is essentially breadth, softness, and blending of forms. And,
in the abstract, the point ought not to be used where the aim is not
that of definition, nor the brush to be used where the aim is not that
of breadth. Every painting in which the aim is primarily that of
drawing, and every drawing in which the aim is primarily that of
painting, must alike be in a measure erroneous. But it is one thing to
determine what should be done with the black line, in a period of highly
disciplined and widely practiced art, and quite another thing to say
what should be done with it, at this present time, in England.
Especially, the increasing interest and usefulness of our illustrated
books render this an inquiry of very great social and educational
importance. On the one side, the skill and felicity of the work spent
upon them, and the advantage which young readers, if not those of all
ages, _might_ derive from having examples of good drawing put familiarly
before their eyes, cannot be overrated; yet, on the other side, neither
the admirable skill nor free felicity of the work can ultimately be held
a counterpoise for the want--if there be a want--of sterling excellence:
while, farther, this increased power of obtaining examples of art for
private possession, at an almost nominal price, has two accompanying
evils: it prevents the proper use of what we have, by dividing the
attention, and continually leading us restlessly to demand new subjects
of interest, while the old are as yet not half exhausted; and it
prevents us--satisfied with the multiplication of minor art in our own
possession--from looking for a better satisfaction in great public
works.

88. Observe, first, it prevents the proper use of what we have. I often
endeavor, though with little success, to conceive what would have been
the effect on my mind, when I was a boy, of having such a book given me
as Watson's "Illustrated Robinson Crusoe."[78] The edition I had was a
small octavo one, in two volumes, printed at the _Chiswick Press_ in
1812. It has, in each volume, eight or ten very rude vignettes, about a
couple of inches wide; cut in the simple, but legitimate, manner of
Bewick, and, though wholly commonplace and devoid of beauty, yet, as far
as they go, rightly done; and