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five…and…forty； what； in all probability； may Clarence Glyndon
be？ Since you are ambitious I leave that question for you to
decide！ Now turn to the other picture。 Clarence Glyndon returns
to England with a wife who can bring him no money； unless he lets
her out on the stage； so handsome； that every one asks who she
is； and every one hears；the celebrated singer； Pisani。
Clarence Glyndon shuts himself up to grind colours and paint
pictures in the grand historical school； which nobody buys。
There is even a prejudice against him； as not having studied in
the Academy；as being an amateur。 Who is Mr。 Clarence Glyndon？
Oh； the celebrated Pisani's husband！ What else？ Oh； he exhibits
those large pictures！ Poor man！ they have merit in their way；
but Teniers and Watteau are more convenient； and almost as cheap。
Clarence Glyndon； with an easy fortune while single； has a large
family which his fortune； unaided by marriage； can just rear up
to callings more plebeian than his own。 He retires into the
country； to save and to paint； he grows slovenly and
discontented； 'the world does not appreciate him；' he says； and
he runs away from the world。 At the age of forty…five what will
be Clarence Glyndon？ Your ambition shall decide that question
also！〃
〃If all men were as worldly as you；〃 said Glyndon； rising； 〃there
would never have been an artist or a poet！〃
〃Perhaps we should do just as well without them；〃 answered
Mervale。 〃Is it not time to think of dinner？ The mullets here
are remarkably fine！〃
CHAPTER 2。IX。
Wollt ihr hoch auf ihren Flugeln schweben；
Werft die Angst des Irdischen von euch！
Fliehet aus dem engen dumpfen Leben
In des Ideales Reich！
〃Das Ideal und das Leben。〃
Wouldst thou soar heavenward on its joyous wing？
Cast off the earthly burden of the Real；
High from this cramped and dungeoned being； spring
Into the realm of the Ideal。
As some injudicious master lowers and vitiates the taste of the
student by fixing his attention to what he falsely calls the
Natural； but which； in reality； is the Commonplace； and
understands not that beauty in art is created by what Raphael so
well describes；namely； THE IDEA OF BEAUTY IN THE PAINTER'S OWN
MIND； and that in every art； whether its plastic expression be
found in words or marble； colours or sounds； the servile
imitation of Nature is the work of journeymen and tyros；so in
conduct the man of the world vitiates and lowers the bold
enthusiasm of loftier natures by the perpetual reduction of
whatever is generous and trustful to all that is trite and
coarse。 A great German poet has well defined the distinction
between discretion and the larger wisdom。 In the last there is a
certain rashness which the first disdains；
〃The purblind see but the receding shore；
Not that to which the bold wave wafts them o'er。〃
Yet in this logic of the prudent and the worldly there is often a
reasoning unanswerable of its kind。
You must have a feeling；a faith in whatever is self…sacrificing
and divine； whether in religion or in art； in glory or in love；
or Common…sense will reason you out of the sacrifice； and a
syllogism will debase the Divine to an article in the market。
Every true critic in art； from Aristotle and Pliny； from
Winkelman and Vasari to Reynolds and Fuseli； has sought to
instruct the painter that Nature is not to be copied； but
EXALTED； that the loftiest order of art； selecting only the
loftiest combinations； is the perpetual struggle of Humanity to
approach the gods。 The great painter； as the great author；
embodies what is POSSIBLE to MAN； it is true； but what is not
COMMON to MANKIND。 There is truth in Hamlet； in Macbeth； and his
witches； in Desdemona； in Othello； in Prospero； and in Caliban；
there is truth in the cartoons of Raphael； there is truth in the
Apollo； the Antinous； and the Laocoon。 But you do not meet the
originals of the words； the cartoons； or the marble； in Oxford
Street or St。 James's。 All these； to return to Raphael； are the
creatures of the idea in the artist's mind。 This idea is not
inborn； it has come from an intense study。 But that study has
been of the ideal that can be raised from the positive and the
actual into grandeur and beauty。 The commonest model becomes
full of exquisite suggestions to him who has formed this idea； a
Venus of flesh and blood would be vulgarised by the imitation of
him who has not。
When asked where he got his models； Guido summoned a common
porter from his calling； and drew from a mean original a head of
surpassing beauty。 It resembled the porter； but idealised the
porter to the hero。 It was true； but it was not real。 There are
critics who will tell you that the Boor of Teniers is more true
to Nature than the Porter of Guido！ The commonplace public
scarcely understand the idealising principle； even in art； for
high art is an acquired taste。
But to come to my comparison。 Still less is the kindred
principle comprehended in conduct。 And the advice of worldly
prudence would as often deter from the risks of virtue as from
the punishments of vice； yet in conduct； as in art； there is an
idea of the great and beautiful； by which men should exalt the
hackneyed and the trite of life。 Now Glyndon felt the sober
prudence of Mervale's reasonings； he recoiled from the probable
picture placed before him； in his devotion to the one
master…talent he possessed； and the one master…passion that；
rightly directed； might purify his whole being as a strong wind
purifies the air。
But though he could not bring himself to decide in the teeth of
so rational a judgment； neither could he resolve at once to
abandon the pursuit of Viola。 Fearful of being influenced by
Zanoni's counsels and his own heart； he had for the last two days
shunned an interview with the young actress。 But after a night
following his last conversation with Zanoni； and that we have
just recorded with Mervale；a night coloured by dreams so
distinct as to seem prophetic； dreams that appeared so to shape
his future according to the hints of Zanoni that he could have
fancied Zanoni himself had sent them from the house of sleep to
haunt his pillow；he resolved once more to seek Viola； and
though without a definite or distinct object； he yielded himself
up to the impulse of his heart。
CHAPTER 2。X。
O sollecito dubbio e fredda tema
Che pensando l'accresci。
Tasso； Canzone vi。
（O anxious doubt and chilling fear that grows by thinking。）
She was seated outside her door；the young actress！ The sea
before her in that heavenly bay seemed literally to sleep in the
arms of the shore； while； to the right； not far off； rose the
dark and tangled crags to which the traveller of to…day is duly
brought to gaze on the tomb of Virgil； or compare with the cavern
of Posilipo the archway of Highgate Hill。 There were a few
fisherman loitering by the cliffs； on which their nets were hu