Whistler  has  it,  in  spite  of  his  diablerie.  It  is  triumphant  in  all  the
modern  men  I  have  coupled  with  Morland.  Morland  himself  was  full  of
it,  and  could  not  have  done  a  stroke  without  it.  Given  this  element  in
a  picture,  and  it — the  picture — must  have  its  lovers,  and  eventually  its
buyers  and  possessors.  I  like  to  think  that  this  is  why  justice  (all  but
unconscious  perhaps)  is  being  done  to  his  daring  and  originality  in  thus
striking  out  a  line  in  art  for  himself,  a  line  which  his  brother  (contem-


MORLAND   THE    PAINTER  47

porary)  artists  had  quite  failed  to  see,  though  it  stared  them  in  the  face.
