bee 
NATURE IN THE LOUVRE. 259 
' [ knew it was useless to search further among the 
galleries of the Louvre, for there could not be two such 
works in existence anywhere, much less in one collec- 
tion. Therefore I did not go a step beyond, but sat 
down to enjoy it, and when I had gazed enough for one 
morning I turned to leave the place. There are never 
two works of equal beauty of any kind, just as there are 
never two moments of equal pleasure: seize the one 
you have, and make much of it, for such a moment will 
never return. In walking away I frequently looked 
back—first at three or four yards’, then at ten yards’ 
distance ; gradually the proportions diminished, but the 
great sweep of outline retained its power. At about 
thirty yards it is remarkable how this noble work 
entirely overshadows the numerous figures close to it. 
Upon each side ot the gallery the wall is lined with 
ranks of statuary, but they are quite lost as statuary, 
and seem nothing more than wall decorations, merely 
curious castings put there to conceal the monotony ot 
the surface. Cleverly executed they may be, but there 
is no other merit, and they appear commonplace. They 
have no meaning ; the eye glances along them without 
emotion. It always returns to, and rests upon, the Ac- 
croupie—the living and the beautiful. Here is the dif- 
ference between genius and talent. Talent has lined 
the walls with a hundred clever things, and could line 
miles of surface ; genius gives us but one example, and 
the clever things are silenced. Here is the difference 
between that which expresses a noble idea, and that 
which is dexterously conventional. The one single idea 
dominates the whole. Here is the difference, again, be- 
tween the secret of the heart, the aspiration of the soul, 
and that which is only the workmanship of a studio 
ancient or modern. The Accroupie is human, loving 
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