potential in even quite sane people's souls; because he gives us no excuse for exclaiming, "How true is Blake to the masters! How accurate his drawing! How wise in him to read our thin sanity through and through, and yet hardly ruffle it!" These Pastorals invite no criticism. They make Appeal. And when that Appeal finds response in our hearts, we know that language must fail us, though we see our friend's eyes shine and we fear our own will overflow. The maxim of this second subdivision of the mighty sane is that in art no thing can ever do more than the average things have hitherto done; and that if the imagination is to be allowed any play whatever, every care must be taken to show that technical excellence everywhere takes precedence, so that its heavy hand shall slap the face of any man who would rather seek light than find satisfaction.
(iii.) Then a third subdivision of the sane comprises those who take it for granted that the man of experience sees further than the child whose glory it is to discount the value of facts. Any pedant will do to flatter these from his pulpit. The child values facts chiefly as playthings. A stick and a rag shall become a living baby and make appeal
