out a single pursuit to its perfection, and if he had not lived so many years in Europe, he would have been a more celebrated man; but Cranch did not care for celebrity.
He was content to live and to let live.
Men of great force, like Macaulay and Emerson, who impress their personality on the times in which they live, communicate evil as well as good; but Cranch had no desire to influence his fellow men, and for this reason his influence was of a purer quality.
It was like the art of Albert Durer.
No one could conceive of Cranch's injuring anybody; and if all men were like him there would be no more wars, no need of revolutions.
Force, however, is necessary to combat the evil that is already established.
He died at his house on Ellery Street January 20, 1890, as gently and peacefully as he had lived.
There is an excellent portrait of him by Duveneck in the rooms of the University Club, at Boston; but the sketch of his life, by George William Curtis, was refused on the ground