whose toughness no
sarcastic shaft could pierce. Roderick admitted that in thinking
over the tribulations of struggling genius, the danger of dying of
over-patronage had never occurred to him.

The deterring effect of the episode of the Coliseum was apparently of
long continuance; if Roderick's nerves had been shaken his hand needed
time to recover its steadiness. He cultivated composure upon principles
of his own; by frequenting entertainments from which he returned at four
o'clock in the morning, and lapsing into habits which might fairly be
called irregular. He had hitherto made few friends among the artistic
fraternity; chiefly because he had taken no trouble about it, and
there was in his demeanor an elastic independence of the favor of his
fellow-mortals which made social advances on his own part peculiarly
necessary. Rowland had told him more than once that he ought to
fraternize a trifle more with the other artists, and he had always
answered that he had not the smallest objection to fraternizing:
let them come! But they came on rare occasions, and Roderick was not
punctilious about returning their visits. He declared there was not one
of them whose works gave him the smallest desire to make acquaintance
with the insides of their heads. For Gloriani he professed a superb
contempt, and, having been once to look at his wares, never crossed
his threshold again. The only one of the fraternity for whom by his own
admission he cared a straw was little Singleton; but he expressed his
regard only in a kind of sublime hilarity whenever he encountered this
humble genius, and quite forgot his existence in the intervals. He had
never been to see him, but Singleton edged his way, from time to time,
timidly, into Roderick's studio, and agreed with characteristic modesty
that brilliant fellows like the sculptor might consent to receive
homage, but could hardly be expected to render it. Roderick never
exactly accepted homage, and apparently did not quite observe whether
poor Singleton spoke in admiration or in blame. Roderick's taste as to
companions was singularly capricious. There were very good fellows, who
were disposed to cultivate him, who bored him to death; and there were
others, in whom even Rowland's good-nature was unable to discover a
pretext for tolerance, in whom he appeared to find the highest social
qualities. He used to give the most fantastic reasons for his likes and
dislikes. He would declare he could n't sp