His art was scarcely at any time absent from his mind, even in times of social relaxation or of more serious employment. He could hardly enter a room without seeing capabilities in it, and longing to develope them. But when an important design was in progress, it seemed to take entire possession of his mind. It was his custom to work it out almost wholly for himself, in its scientific and financial as well as its artistic bearings. His extraordinary rapidity of execution and untiring industry enabled him to keep up this custom to a great extent, even in his busiest times. In fact, when a design was once conceived--when it had once taken possession of his imagination--hard work at it was a relief. The idea of it would occur to him at his first waking, and he could not but rise, however early the hour, and set to work. Adverse criticism at such a time was rejected or disregarded, but a few days later it would be found to have sunk into his mind unconsciously; then it would be rapidly seized upon as if original, and its results, often greatly modified and reconstructed, would be produced in the most perfect good faith as new, perhaps to the very person who had first made the criticism. Difficulties were forgotten or defied in the attempt to perfect the idea conceived; drawings of the more important parts of the work altered scores of times until his fastidious taste was satisfied. He could not conceive the idea of resting contented with what was acknowledged to be defective, and he held that the word “impossible” was to be erased from his dictionary. In this absorbing devotion to his art lay the cause of infinite labour, many troubles, and much misapprehension, but in it lay, as usual, the secret of success. Another effect of this early freedom and self-direction was a vigorous growth of self-reliance and originality. It perhaps entailed some want of philosophic symmetry and largeness of view, especially at a time when there was comparatively little study of great principles of art as based on substantial reason. Grounds of criticism were then sought by the generality in conventional rules, and by the more active minds in arbitrary conceptions of “taste,” till society was divided into the connoisseurs, who were to pronounce their arbitrary judgment, and the “ignobile vulgus,” who were obediently and ignorantly to accept their conclusions. Yet it gave him the power of progress, and it kept him also free from any tendency to bigotry and copyism. There is indeed the highest kind of originality, which combines philosophic knowledge and study with the power of a true development. But in practice, especially in the domain of art, the most important steps of progress are probably due to men of a happy intuition and an unscientific audacity, and such men are usually men who have guided and educated themselves.