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people； but he did mind my refusal to show him what i had written。 though what i had written was all eulogy； i dreaded his judgment for it was my first art criticism。 i hated his big lion pictures； where he attempted an art too much concerned with the sense of touch； with the softness or roughness； the minutely observed irregularity of surfaces； for his genius； and i think he knew it。 rossetti used to call my pictures pot？ boilers； he said； but they are all？？all； and he waved his arms to the canvases； symbols。 when i wanted him to design gods and angels and lost spirits once more； he always came back to the point； nobody would be pleased。 everybody should have a raison detre was one of his phrases。
mrs？？s articles are not good but they are her raison detre。 i had but little knowledge of art； for there was little scholarship in the dublin art school； so i overrated the quality of anything that could be connected with my general beliefs about the world。 if i had been able to give angelical； or diabolical names to his lions i might have liked them also and i think that nettleship himself would have liked them better； and liking them better have bee a better painter。 we had the same kind of religious feeling； but i could give a crude philosophical expression to mine while he could only express his in action or with brush and pencil。 he often told me of certain ascetic ambitions； very much like my own； for he had kept all the moral ambition of youth with a moral courage peculiar to himself； as for instance？？yeats； the other night i was arrested by a policeman？？was walking round regents park barefooted to keep the flesh under？？good sort of thing to do？？i was carrying my boots in my hand and he thought i was a burglar； and even when i explained and gave him half a crown； he would not let me go till i had promised to put on my boots before i met the next policeman。
he was very proud and shy； and i could not imagine anybody asking him questions； and so i was content to take these stories as they came； confirmations of stories i had heard in boyhood。 one story in particular had stirred my imagination； for； ashamed all my boyhood of my lack of physical courage； i admired what was beyond my imitation。 he thought that any weakness； even a weakness of body； had the character of sin； and while at breakfast with his brother； with whom he shared a room on the third floor of a corner house； he said that his nerves were out of order。 presently he left the table； and got out through the window and on to a stone ledge that ran along the wall under the windowsills。 he sidled along the ledge； and turning the corner with it； got in at a different window and returned to the table。 my nerves； he said； are better than i thought。
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Four YearsXIV
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nettleship said to me： has edwin ellis ever said anything about the effect of drink upon my genius？ no； i answered。 i ask； he said； because i have always thought that ellis has some strange medical insight。 though i had answered no； ellis had only a few days before used these words： nettleship drank his genius away。
ellis； but lately returned from perugia； where he had lived many years； was another old friend of my fathers but some years younger than nettleship or my father。 nettleship had found his simplifying image； but in his painting had turned away from it； while ellis； the son of alexander ellis； a once famous man of science； who was perhaps the last man in england to run the circle of the sciences without superficiality； had never found that image at all。 he was a painter and poet； but his painting； which did not interest me； showed no influence but that of leighton。 he had started perhaps a couple of years too late for pre？raphaelite influence； for no great pre？raphaelite picture was painted after 1870； and left england too soon for that of the french painters。
he was； however； sometimes moving as a poet and still more often an astonishment。 i have known him cast something just said into a dozen lines of musical verse； without apparently ceasing to talk； but the work once done he could not or would not amend it； and my father thought he lacked all ambition。 yet he had at times nobility of rhythm？？an instinct for grandeur？？and after thirty years i still repeat to myself his address to mother earth： o mother of the hills； forgive our towers； o mother of the clouds； forgive our dreams and there are certain whole poems that i read from time to time or try to make others read。 there is that poemwhere the manner is unworthy of the matter； being loose and facile； describing adam and eve fleeing from paradise。 adam asks eve what she carries so carefully and eve replies that it is a little of the apple core kept for their children。 there is that vision of christ the less； a too hurriedly written ballad； where the half of christ； sacrificed to the divine half that fled to seek felicity； wanders wailing through golgotha； and there is the saint and the youth in which i can discover no fault at all。 he loved plexities？？seven silences like candles round her face is a line of his？？and whether he wrote well or ill had always a manner； which i would have known from that of any other poet。 he would say to me； i am a mathematician with the mathematics left out？？his father was a great mathematician？？or a woman once said to me； 〃mr。 ellis why are your poems like sums？〃 and certainly he loved symbols and abstractions。 he said once； when i had asked him not to mention something or other； surely you have discovered by this time that i know of no means whereby i can mention a fact in conversation。
he had a passion for blake； picked up in pre？raphaelite studios； and early in our acquaintance put into my hands a scrap of note paper on which he had written some years before an interpretation of the poem that begins the fields from islington to marylebone to primrose hill and st。 johns wood were builded over with pillars of gold and there jerusalems pillars stood。
the four quarters of london represented blakes four great mythological personages； the zoas； and also the four elements。 these few sentences were the foundation of all study of the philosophy of william blake； that requires an exact knowledge for its pursuit and that traces the connection between his system and that of swedenborg or of boehme。 i recognised certain attributions； from what is sometimes called the christian cabala； of which ellis had never heard； and with this proof that his interpretation was more than phantasy； he and i began our four years work upon the prophetic books of william blake。 we took it as almost a sign of blakes personal help when we discovered that the spring of 1889； when we first joined our knowledge； was one hundred years from the publication of the book of thel； the first published of the prophetic books； as though it were firmly established that the dead delight in anniversaries。 after months of discussion and reading； we made a concordance of all blakes mystical terms； and there was much copying to be done in the museum & at red hill； where the descendants of blakes friend and patron； the landscape painter； john linnell； had many manuscripts。 the linnellswere narrow in their religious ideas & doubtful of b