work wrought, at last, of beauties too subtle to be understood, his liberty, with vices too singular to be forgiven—­all useless, because magnificent idiosyncrasy had become solitude, or contention, in the midst of a reckless populace, instead of submitting itself in loyal harmony to the Art-laws of an understanding nation.  And the life passed away in darkness; and its final work, in all the best beauty of it, has already perished, only enough remaining to teach us what we have lost.

159.  These are the opposite effects of Law and of Liberty on men of the highest powers.  In the case of inferiors the contrast is still more fatal:  under strict law, they become the subordinate workers in great schools, healthily aiding, echoing, or supplying, with multitudinous force of hand, the mind of the leading masters:  they are the nameless carvers of great architecture—­stainers of glass—­hammerers of iron—­ helpful scholars, whose work ranks round, if not with, their master’s, and never disgraces it.  But the inferiors under a system of license for the most part perish in miserable effort;* a few struggle into pernicious eminence—­harmful alike to themselves and to all who admire them; many die of starvation; many insane, either in weakness of insolent egotism, like Haydon, or in a conscientious agony of beautiful purpose and warped power, like Blake.  There is no probability of the persistence of a licentious school in any good accidentally discovered by them; there is an approximate certainty of their gathering, with acclaim, round any shadow of evil, and following it to whatever quarter of destruction it may lead.

* As I correct this sheet for press, my “Pall Mall Gazette” of last Saturday, April 17, is lying on the table by me.  I print a few lines out of it: 

“An artist’s death.—­A sad story was told at an inquest held in St. Pancras last night by Dr. Lankester on the body of . . ., aged fifty-nine, a French artist who was found dead in his bed at his rooms in . . .  Street.  M. . . ., also an artist, said he had known the deceased for fifteen years.  He once held a high position, and being anxious to make a name in the world, he five years ago commenced a large picture, which he hoped, when completed, to have in the gallery at Versailles; and with that view he sent a photograph of it to the French Emperor.  He also had an idea of sending it to the English Royal Academy.  He labored on this picture, neglecting other work which would have paid him well, and gradually sank lower and lower into poverty.  His friends assisted him, but being absorbed in his great work, he did not heed their advice, and they left him.  He was, however, assisted by the French Ambassador, and last Saturday, he (the witness) saw deceased, who was much depressed in spirits, as he expected the brokers to be put in possession for rent.  He said his troubles were so great that he feared his brain would give way.