On a transitional November day, in the year 1872, a pair of American gentlemen could be seen roaming the rooms of the Museum of the Louvre. The elder of them was clearly in the scanning mode, moving his tall, spare frame briskly through the rooms. His younger, fleshier partner frequently would urge hesitation in the midst of one or another masterpiece, to which his companion would give friendly but only momentary assent before moving on once more, like a steer of the Western plains avoiding the rope. Again the younger man would linger with his all-absorbing gaze, then respectfully touch his friend's elbow. He would softly exclaim and modestly explicate, progressively but pleasantly puzzled by his companion's polite impatience and clear desire to gallop on, taking in everything at large yet nothing in particular with his strong, frank stare.