'Nobody cares much at heart about Titian', wrote Ruskin in 1859, 'only there is a strange undercurrent of everlasting murmur about his name, which means the deep consent of all great men that he is greater than they.'" Ruskin was not here disparaging Titian but, rather, pointing out that his achievements were so enormous that they placed him beyond the popular affection in which Raphael, Rembrandt, Van Dyck or Correggio were held. Titian was, he suggests, almost too multi-faceted a figure to inspire a similarly personal rapport. In spite of the long history attached to the collecting of his works in Britain and the contribution of British scholars to the study of Titian, lip-service rather than warm scrutiny has been the order of the day. In this respect, it is salutary to remember the mixed reaction to the public appeal in 1972 for funds to acquire the Death of Actaeon for the National Gallery. Much murmuring about Titian's genius was counterbalanced in the press by many letters decrying the picture itself.