Gabriel Sarrazin,[10] “oppresses these Pre-Raphaelites, lost among our pre-occupations of business and of ease.” And further, the sense of the supernatural world, of the struggle between the spiritual and the physical in man, leads onward to the conception of retribution and punishment, “not” (as Hegel puts it) “as something arbitrary, but as _the other half of sin_.” The inexorableness of the moral law could hardly be more finely suggested than in Rossetti’s treatment of the guilty love of Lancelot and Guinevere. “King Arthur’s Tomb,” despite its crudity and harshness of drawing, remains among the most superb of his early drawings. The aged queen, now an abbess honoured and revered, is visiting the tomb of the dead Arthur. But not all her long atonement of remorse and piety can avail wholly to blot out the sin of her youth. For even here, as she kneels to pray, the dark and terrible ghost of Lancelot thrusts itself between her and the pure effigy whose marble face she seeks in penitence and tears. The converse of the picture was that of which Rossetti sought to make a fresco on the ill-fated walls of the Oxford Debating Union. The design represents “Sir Lancelot before the Shrine of the Sangrael.” He seems to have almost attained the goal of his pilgrimage; the Holy Grail is just within his grasp; but in the hour that might have brought victory, the old sin brings mockery and defeat: the face that looks out at him from the place of his hope is the sad, reproachful face of Guinevere.