IV INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 



There is in that no formality, no assumption 

 of function, no awkward propriety or dignity 

 to be sustained. A letter at the opening of 

 a book may be only a footpath, leading the 

 curious to a favorable point of observation, 

 and then leaving them to wander as they will. 



Sluggards have been sent to the^ant for 

 wisdom ; but writers might better be sent to 

 the spider, not because he works all night, 

 and watches all day, but because he works 

 unconsciously. He dare not even bring his 

 work before his own eyes, but keeps it be 

 hind him, as if too much knowledge of what 

 one is doing would spoil the delicacy and 

 modesty of one s work. 



Almost all graceful and fanciful work is 

 born like a dream, that comes noiselessly, and 

 tarries silently, and goes as a bubble bursts. 

 And yet somewhere work must come in, 

 real, well-considered work. 



Inness (the best American painter of Na 

 ture in her moods of real human feeling) 

 once said, &quot; No man can do any thing in art, 

 unless he has intuitions ; but, between whiles, 



