eternal indwelling power of God, makes this inspiration assume concrete form in the painter's eye. The words of Job are graphic enough: they are the poet's words indeed, and for many will suffice. But with Blake, the seer of Truth in things, the emotion for which Job finds words, finds form in pictorial art. He sees the sons of God, potent in wings, uplifted in thought, ordering their movements in sense of the everlasting harmony, shouting together in their joy of life. Blake has seen his vision. And he must give it to us, as otherwise it would be worthless to him. For in matters of truth, the widow's cruse is the only measure of worth. Like her meal too, it must be given to whomsoever needs, even if the wilderness has to be searched for the hungry.
I believe, if we could analyse the way by which the genius works, we should find that it is simply through seeing visions.
We do not dub Shakespeare a visionary, because, I suppose, he fathers his visions upon his characters; otherwise he could hardly have escaped the accusation when writing such words as these if he had declared that he had seen the vision:—
