Oh, the pity of it! the profound pathos in the picture, in Sekiyen’s preface of the little “Outa” holding his treasured prize, “la petite bestiole,”—the childish artist-hands of the embryo master clasping the insect so gently to preserve its ephemeral life, yet later plunging into the dissipation and excesses which shortened his own. Living with the déclassé, however we may gloss their imperfections and cover with the cloak of charity their sorrowful calling, he became himself a cynic, an outcast, an iconoclast, learning that “hardening of the heart which brings
“Irreverence for the dreams of youth.”
Though Utamaro was one of the greatest of the popular artists, his demoralization led to the decadence of his school, which later was regenerated by the great master of Ukiyo-ye, Hokusai, the artist of the people. In Hokusai, “Dreaming the things of Heaven and of Buddha,” breathed the pure spirit of art,—that Spirit of poetry and purity which calls to us in Milton’s immortal lines:
“Mortals, that would follow me,
Love Virtue; she alone is free.
She can teach ye how to climb
Higher than the sphery chime;
Or if Virtue feeble were,
Heaven itself would stoop to her.”