It cannot be denied that men of great artistic genius are possessed of an intuitive feeling of appreciation for what is beautiful, by means of which they impart to their works the most perfect proportions, independently of any knowledge of the definite laws which govern that species of beauty. But they often do so at the expense of much labour, making many trials before they can satisfy themselves in imparting to them the true proportions which their minds can conceive, and which, along with those other qualities of expression, action, or attitude, which belong more exclusively to the province of genius. In such cases, an acquaintance with the rules which constitute the science of proportion, instead of proving fetters to genius, would doubtless afford her such a vantage ground as would promote the more free exercise of her powers, and give confidence and precision in the embodiment of her inspirations; qualities which, although quite compatible with genius, are not always intuitively developed along with that gift. It is also true that the operations of the conceptive faculty of the mind are uncontrolled by definite laws, and that, therefore, there cannot exist any rules by the inculcation of which an ordinary mind can be imbued with genius sufficient to produce works of high art. Nevertheless, such a mind may be improved in its perceptive faculty by instruction in the science of proportion, so as to be enabled to exercise as correct and just an appreciation of the conceptions of others, in works of plastic art, as that manifested by the educated portion of mankind in respect to poetry and music. In short, it appears that, in those arts which are addressed to the ear, men of genius communicate the original conceptions of their minds under the control of certain scientific laws, by means of which the educated easily distinguish the true from the false, and by which the works of the poet and musical composer may be placed above mere imitations of nature, or of the works of others; while, in those arts that are addressed to the eye in their own peculiar language, such as sculpture, architecture, painting, and ornamental design, no such laws are as yet acknowledged. Although I am, and ever have been, far from endeavouring “to foist upon the palmy days of Hellenic art” any system incompatible with those higher and more intellectual qualities which genius alone can impart; yet, from what has been handed down to us by writers on the subject, meagre as it is, I cannot help continuing to believe that, along with the physical and metaphysical sciences, æsthetic science was taught in the early schools of Greece.