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the floor to give way-I fancied Fuseli bimself to be a giant.
Jackson wrote to me on his return to the Academy, I heard his footsteps, and saw a little bony hand slide and I well remember his saying, “ There is a raw, tall, round the edge of the door, followed by a little white
pale, queer Scotchman come, an odd fellow, but there is headed lion-faced man in an old flannel dressing, something in him. He is called Wilkie.” gown, tied round his waist with a piece of rope, and upon his head the bottom of Mrs. Fuseli's work-basket.
When the Academy closed in August, Wilkie followed "Well, well,” thought I, “ I am a match for you at
me to the door, and invited me to breakfast, saying, in any rate, if bewitching is tried; but all apprehension a broad Scotch accent, “ Whare d'ye stay?" I went to vanished on his saying, the mildest and kindest way, his room rather earlier than the hour named, and, to my “ Well, Mr. Haydon, I have heard a great deal of you
utter astonishment, found Wilkie sitting stark naked on from Mr. Hoare. Where are your drawings !" In a
the side of his bed, drawing himself by help of the fright I gave him the wrong book, with a sketch of
looking-glass. “My God, Wilkie,” said Í, “where are some men pushing a cask into a grocer's shop. Fuseli
we to breakfast P” Without any apology, or attention smiled, and said, “By Gode de fellow does his business
to my important question, be replied “It's jest copital at least with eneargy." I was gratified at his being
practice !" I left him, and strolled for an hour over the pleased in spite of my mistake.
fields where is now the Regent's Park. When I re“You are studying anatomy: you are right. Shew turned I rallied him on his copital practice,” avd I me some drawings. I am keeper of de Academy, and
shall certainly never forget his red hair, his long lanky hope to see you dere de first nights.” I went away,
figure reflected in the glass, and Wilkie, with portfeeling happy that my bones were whole and my breath
crayon and paper, making a beautiful study. He ing uninterrupted.
shewed me bis wonderful picture of the “ Fair,” painted at nineteen, before he had ever seen a Teniers. The
colour was bad, but the grouping beautiful, and the My incessant application was soon perceived by figures full of expression. But at that time I was too Fuseli, who, coming in one day when I was at work and big with “high art” to feel its perfections, and perall the other students were away, walked up to me and baps had a feeling akin to contempt for a young man said in the mildest voice,“ Why, when de devil do you with any talent who stooped himself to such things. dine!" and invited me to go back with him to dinner. Wilkie went on with his “copital practice,' Here I saw his sketches, the sublimity of which I deny. Evil was in him. He knew full well that he was wrong
and very soon astonished the town with his as to truth of imitation, and he kept palliating it under the excuse of "the grand style.” He said a subject
During the progress of the picture his employer should interest, astonish, or move: if it did none of
called and said towards its conclusion, “What am I to these it was worth “noding by Gode.” He had a strong Swiss accent, and a guttural energetic diction. This
pay you for this picture, Mr. Wilkie !"
Wilkie, timid and trembling, said, “I hope your was not affectation in him. He swore roundly, a habit Lordship will not think fifteen guineas too much." which he told me he had contracted from Dr. Arm
“ Fifteen guineas !” replied his Lordship, why, that strong. He was about five feet five inches high, had a
is rather too much : you had better consult your friends, compact little form, stood firmly at his easel, painted Mr. Wilkie.” with his left hand, never held his palette upon his
“ Fifteen guineas !" I said when I heard it, "a hun. thumb, but kept it upon his stone, and, being very near
dred and fifty guineas is not too much. Don't you let sighted, and too vain to wear glasses, used to dab his
him have it, my dear Wilkie.” Everybody was of the beastly brush into the oil, and, sweeping round the pa.
same opinion. In the mean time his Lordship had lette in the dark, take up a great lump of white, red, or
heard the picture talked about. Suddenly in he popped blue, as it might be, and plaster it over a shoulder or
upon Wilkie, looked, admired, and said, “I believe, face. Sometimes, in his blindness, he would put a
Mr. Wilkie, that I owe you fifteen guineas : I will give bideous smear of Prussian blue in his flesh, and then;
you a cheque." "No," replied Wilkie, “your Lordship perhaps discovering his mistake, take a bit of red to
told me to consult my friends, as you thought it too deaden it, and then, prying close in, turn round to me
much. I have done so, and they agree that it is too and say, “ By Gode, dat's a fine purple ! it's vary like
little.” “Oh, but I considered it a bargain,” said Lord Corregio, by Gode !” And then, all of a sudden, he
Mansfield, rising and leaving the room. On the hangwould burst out with a quotation from Homer, Tasso, Dante, Ovid, Virgil, or perhaps the Niebelungen, and
ing day the Academicians were so delighted that they
hung it on the chimney, the best place for a fine picthunder round some with “ Paint dat!" I found him the most grotesque mixture of literature, art, scepti- and at the dinner Angerstein took the Prince up to
ture. On the private day there was a crowd about it, cism, indelicacy, profanity, and kindness. He put me in mind of Archimago in Spenser. Weak minds he destroyed. They mistook his wit for reason, his indeli.
On the Sunday (the next day) I read in the news:
А young man, by the name of Wilkie, a Scotcbman, cacy for breeding, his swearing for manliness, and his infidelity for strength of mind; but he was accomplished hurried over my breakfast, rushed away, met Jackson,
has a very extraordinary work.” I was in the clouds, in elegant literature, and had the art of inspiring young who joined me, and we both bolted into Wilkie's room. minds with high and grand views. I told him that I would never paint portraits, but devote myself to high paper!" " is it rea-al-ly,” said David. I read the
I roared out,“ Wilkie, my boy, your name's in the Keep to dat,” said Fuseli, looking fiercely at me, puff. We huzzaed, and, taking hands, all
three danced “I will, sir.” We were more intimate from that hour. He should have checked me, and pointed out that por- remember the tone of Wilkie's “rea-al-ly” this will be
round the table until we were tired. By those who trait was useful as practice, if kept subordinate ; but that I was not to allow myself to be seduced by the Wilkie, “ Do you not know that every one complains of
relished. Eastlake told me that Calcott said once to money that it brought in from making high art my
your continual rea-al-ly " Wilkie mused a moment, predominant object. This would have been more sen looked at Calcott, and drawled out, “Do they rea-al-ly!" sible.
“ You must leave it off.” “I will rea-al-ly.” “ For We next note the small beginnings of a
heaven's sake, don't keep repeating it,” said Calooth,
“it annoys me.” Wilkie looked, smiled, and in the greater man than Haydon.
most unconscious manner said, “ Rea-al-ly!”
THE FIRST HANGING.
Jackson, he, and I, made an appointment to go to arguments. First was David Wilkie-Scotch, argugether to the Exhibition the next day: Wilkie was to mentative, unclassical, prudent, poor, and simple, but call on me at 49 Carey Street.
kindled by a steady flame of genius. Then Du Fresne Ah! these unalloyed moments never come twice: -thoughtless, gay, highly educated, speaking French our joy was the joy of three friends, pure from all base and Italian with the most perfect accent, reading Virgil passions, one of whom had proved a great genius, and and Horace, quoting Shakspeare or Milton, believing we felt as if it reflected honour on our choice of each in high art, glorying in the antique, hating modern other.
academies, and relishing music like a Mozart. In perWilkie called accordingly, looking bewildered with fect contrast came George Callender-timid, quiet, use his success. Seguier and Jackson met us at Somerset obtrusive, but withal well read. Then Dr. MillingenHouse, and, paying our money, we mounted the steps, a W big devotee, mad at a Westminster election, raving Wilkie and I arm in arm, Seguier and Jackson follow out a speech of Fox's, adoring Sheridan, and hating Pitt ing us. I walked straight to the picture, but there was Last of all, thou not least in our dear love, came B. R. no getting in sideways or edgeways. Wilkie, pale as Haydon-energetic, fiercely ambitious, full of grand death, kept saying, “ Dear, dear, its jest wonderful !" ideas and romantic hopes, believing the world too little
After enjoying the triumph, which was complete, we for his art, trusting all, fearing none, and pouring forth left the Academy and went to dinner, Seguier saying to his thoughts in vigorous language; while Liz, making me, “I suppose you 'll astonish us next."
tea at the table, completed the group. My tea was so We dined at * John O'Groat's,” Rupert Street, and, good and my cups so large, that they always used to going home with Wilkie, we found his table covered say, “We 'll have tea at Haydon's in the grand style." with cards of people of fashion, people of no fashion, and people of every fashion.
The rush was tremendous. Wilkie became drunk An attractive girl on the second floor of a house full with success, and very idle.
of young men is in rather a dangerous position, and
what with Du Fresne's fascinating conversation, Will Next year Haydon produced his “ Flight Allan's anecdote
, Dr. Millingen's furious admiration of into Egypt,” which, as he says, took him six Charles Fox, George Callender's sound sense and quiet months to paint, and “was a wonderful first humour, Wilkie’s genius, and B. R. Haydon's high picture.”
views and energy of argument, poor Lizzy was so fascinated that she positively forswore her sex, and became
as much a young man in mind as if she too were going For days I wandered about in hopeless misery. I
to be a student in art, divinity, or medicine. could not eat nor drink. I lost my relish for every
She attached herself to the party, made tea for them, thing. I could not sleep, I could not paint. Called on marketed for them, carved for them, went to the play one friend after another, affecting gaiety ; bored Fuseli,
with them, read Shakspeare with them, and on one who, being keeper, saw what was daily doing by the occasion I found her studying, with an expression of Committee, until at last one morning, when, after a profound bewilderment, “Reid on the Human Mind." timid knock, I opened the door at the usual " Come in,"
To men of fashion there will be no doubt as to what Fuseli turned suddenly round with his lion-head, the
her position must have been with these young men, but white bair glistening as the light quivered down upon they are wrong in this case. Suspicion followed suspiit from the top of his high window, and roared out, cion, but she cared not. She bad more pleasure in list“Wale, is it you ! For your comfort den you are hung, ening to a dispute on art between Wilkie and me, or be Gode, and dd well too, though not in chains a political battle between M'Claggan and Callender, or yet.” "Where, sir, for God's sake!" "Ah! dat is a an account of the beheading of Marie Antoinette from sacrate; but you are in the great room. Dey were all Du Fresne (who used to declare that he saw it, and pleased. Northcote tried to hurt you, but dey would flung bis red cap in the air), than in making love or not listen. He said Fye, zure I see Wilkie's hand having love made to her. Her position was anomalous, dere.' •Come, come,' said Westall, .dat's too bad, even but I fully believe it was innocent. She was a girl for you !"” “Wilkie's hand !” replied I, “ good heavens,
with a man's mind-one of those women we sometimes what malice! I would as soon let Wilkie feed me meet who destroy their fair fame by placing themselves with a pap-spoon as touch a picture of mine.” But in masculine society, with what is perfect innocence in what petty malignity!" "Wale, wale,” said Fuseli, them, but could not be innocence in any woman brought "I told him (Northcote) • You are his townsman, hang up to nurse those delicacies of feeling which are among him wale. When I came back whayre de deyvil do
the most delightful attributes of the sex. you tink he was hanging you Be Gode, above de Liz was as interesting a girl as you would wish to see, whole lengts and small figures about eight inches. and very likely to make a strong impression on any one • Why,' said I, ‘you are sending him to haven before his that knew her. However, I kept clear, and she ultitime. Take him down, take him down, dat is shame- mately married the Frenchman. ful !'"
He was violent in temper and she had great spirit: And so down I was taken and hung on the right of they quarrelled as they went to church, and quarrelled the entrance door in the old great room at Somerset when they returned. The marriage was a wretched House, which, for a first picture by a young student, one. They separated. She went to Paris, and he bewas a very good situation, and obtained me great came a surgeon on a slave estate in the West Indies, honour.
and died from yellow fever. Wbat has become of her
I never heard, but have always felt a deep interest in The original of the mother in Wilkie's her fate. To her I read my first attack on the Academy, “ Blind Fiddler” was a sort of Madame Roland and she gloried in my defiance. She sat in my first in her way. The picture of artist life in Rath- picture, and watched the daily progress of “ Dentatus," bone Place is better grouped than the“ Reform thought of little Haydon painting such a work ?" Banquet."
If Haydon had married Lizzy perhaps he LIZZY AND HER ARTISTS.
had been a better and a happier man. He There never was a group of young men so various and characteristic, with Lizzy, the only woman among
wanted a strong spirit to govern him, much us, giving a zest and intensity to our thoughts and our more than a heart io sympathise with him.
LORD MULGRAVE AND DENTATUS.
MACBETH UPON CREDIT.
But all this time our historical painter is pro- anatomical investigation, and on a constant sludy of the ceeding with his second work. Lord Mulgrave finest works of the great masters of the world. This is,
and bas been, the curse of European art for two hunhad commissioned him to paint an historical
dred and fifty years, ever since the establishment of picture, and “ Dentatus” was the work which
those associations of vanity, monopoly, intrigue, and was to astonish the world and to demonstrate envy, called Academies; and until they are reformed Haydon's supremacy in the regions of high art.
and rendered powerless, except as schools of study, they Alas!" Dentatus” was a failure : as Haydon will be felt as an obstruction to the advancement of thought, because the Hanging Committee placed
Haydon's position in public estimation was it in the ante-room; as every one else thought, simply because it was a failure. It is amusing tension, and by gigantic masses of canvas, he
now pretty well settled.
By vociferous preto read the indomitable confidence of the man
sometimes startled the world out of its fixed -his utter incapacity of imagining the possi- opinion for a moment; but the factitious exbility that he could be less than an Apelles.
citement always passed away, and the historical painter was again left alone in his self
idolatry. Lord Mulgrave immediately sent me 160 guineas, saying that, notwithstanding the injustice the picture
His father had now maintained him for six had met with, his opinion was unaltered. He subse years, for Haydon scorned to relieve his sire quently sent me 50 guineas more. And yet dear Lord by stooping to paint portraits. A letter now Mulgrave, in spite of bis belief that his sincere opinion arrived, telling him that he must reckon no would not have been placed where it was had it really longer upon remittances from home. Haydeserved a better place. He did not possess knowledge don quarrels with his patron Sir George Beausufficient to defend his opinions; and when he heard mont, sets to work upon a large picture, “ Macthe picture abused by the Academicians in society, he beth,” and—borrow's money. felt his faith in its merits waver. Wilkie and I continued frequently to dine at his
It is quite wonderful to mark what success Lordship’s table, but there was certainly a distant cool- he had in borrowing. ness to me, as if he had been imposed upon. Wilkie's picture made as much noise as ever, and now he was the great object of attraction, where before I bad been the lion. The old story in high life.
I pursued my ardent course day after day and hour Before “ Dentatus” made his debut at the Academy I
after hour. There was a friend who came forward used to be listened to as if I was an oracle, and poor nobly to the extent of his power. He is a humble Wilkie scarcely noticed : now it was his turn, and I
man, though connected with one who has made noise was almost forgotten. Now he was frequently invited enough-John Hunt, the brother of Leigh, as noble a without me. Jackson was not there at all, because
specimen of a human being as ever I met in my life : Lord Mulgrave had parted from him in a pet. These
of bim I borrowed 301. This bad carried me on with are the caprices and anxieties inseparable from intro- my mouldings and castings of the negro. Peter Clegduction to the company of a class who are ambitious of horn, a friend of Wilkie's and mine, lent me 301. more. the éclat of discovering genius, but whose hearts are
I called my landlord, and explained to him my situaseldom truly engaged for it. They esteem it no longer tion, and asked him to wait till Macbeth was done. when public caprice, or private malignity and profes
He said, “ You paid me when your father supported sional envy, can excite a suspicion that my Lord has
you, and I see no reason not to believe you will do so been basty, and made a mistake.
when you can support yourself."
AgainPeople of fashion were ashamed to acknowledge that How could I submit who had told the students that they had ever seen either the picture or the painter. failure should stimulate and not depress? Contempti. My painting room was deserted. " I felt like a marked ble! How bear my own reflections—how the reflecman. How completely the Academicians knew that tions of others, knowing I deserved them! Something class whose professions of regard and interest I had instantly circulated through me like an essence of fire, credited like a child! Here was a work, the prin- and, striding with wider steps, I determined to bear ciples of which I could do nothing but develope for the all- not to yield one particle of my designs—to go at remainder of my life; in which a visible and resolute once for my model-to begin to-morrow, and to make attempt had been made to unite colour, expression, the most of my actual situation. “Well done!" said handling, light, shadow, and heroic form, and to cor the God within, and instantly I was invincible. I went rect the habitual slovenlipess of the English in draw to the house where I had always dined, intending to ing, based upon an anatomical knowledge of the figure, dine without paying for that day. I thought the serwanting till now in English art, for West and Barry vants did not offer me the same attention. I thought had but superficial knowledge ; the first picture which I perceived the company examine me. I thought ihe had appeared uniting the idea and the life under the meat was worse. My heart sunk as I said falteringly, "I influence and guidance of the divine productions of will pay you to-morrow.” The girl smiled, and seemed Phidias, seen for the first time in Europe, and painted interested. As I was escaping with a sort of lurking by the first artist ever permitted to draw from those horror, she said, “Mr. Haydon, Mr. Haydon, my masremains; and this picture was ruined in reputation ter wishes to see you." My God !" thought I, “it is through the pernicious power of professional men, em to tell me he can't trust." In I walked like a culprit. bodied by Royalty for the advancement of works of this “Sir, I beg your pardon, but I see by the papers you very description. I, the sincere, devoted artist, was have been ill-used : 1 hope you won't be angry ; I mean treated like a culprit, deserted like a leper, abused like no offence; but-you won't be offended- I just wish to a felon, and ridiculed as if my pretensions were the say, as you have dined here many years, and always paid, delusions of a madman. Yet these delusions were if it would be a convenience during your present work founded on common sense and incessant industry, on to dine here till it is done--you know-so that you may
DEALINGS WITH THE SHERIFF.
what I say.”
not be obliged to spend your money here, when you may lord for bail. The officer took it, and appointed to want it.” I was going to say" You need be under no ap- meet him in the evening, and then I set to work. For prehension-hem! for a dinner." My heart really filled. a few minutes my mind, hurt and wounded, struggled
told him I would take his offer. The good man's to regain its power. At last, in scrawling about the forehead was perspiring, and he seemed quite relieved. brush, I gave an expression to the eye of Lazarus. From that hour the servants, who were pretty girls, I instantly got interested, and before two I had hit it. eyed me with a lustrous regret, and redoubled their My pupil, Bewick, sat for it, and as he had not sold his attentions. The honest wife said if I was ever ill she exquisite picture of Jacob, looked quite thin and ans. would send me broth, or any such little luxury; and ious enough for such a head. "I hope you get your food the children used to cling round my knees, and ask regularly,' said I. He did not answer. By degrees me to draw a face. “Now," said I, as I walked home his cheeks reddened, and his eyes filled, but he subwith an elastic step, “now for my landlord.” I called dued his feelings. This is an illustration of the state up Perkins and laid my desperate case before him. of historical painting in England. A master and his
He was quite affected. I said, “ Perkins, I'll leave pupil-the one without a pound, and the other without you if you wish it, but it will be a pity, will it not, not bread. to finish such a beginning ?" Perkins looked at the
The reader nauseates at the repetition of rubbing in, and muttered, “It's a grand thing: how long will it be before it is doue, sir ?" “ Two years." money miseries so entirely induced by the "What! two years more and no rent?” “Not a shil. man's own recklessness. ling.” He rubbed his chin, and muttered, " I should not like you to go-it's hard for both of us; but what I say is this, you always paid me when you could, and
Nov. 12--Out the whole day on business, and settled why should you not again when you are able !" "That's every thing. Come home to relieve dear Mary's
"Well, sir, here is my hand "--and a great anxiety. Just as I was beginning to finish the right fat one it was—“I'll give you two years more, and if hand corner, in came a man with,“ Sir, I have an exethis does not sell”-affecting to look sevt re—"why cution against you;' and in walked another sedatethen, sir, we 'll consider what is to be done; so don't looking little fellow, and took his seat. I was astofret, but work.”
nished, for I had paid part of this very matter in the These good folk took Haydon at his own left him in charge of old Sammons, who was frightened
morning. I told the man to be civil and quiet, and estimation, and thought they were the humble as a child, and pale as death. 1 then ran up stairs
, cause of immortal works. Perhaps the fol- kissed dearest Mary, and told her the exact truth. lowing reflection, which occurs in the diary, With the courage of a heroine, she bade me " never will explain how Haydon obtained his inflů- mind," and assured me she would not be uneasy. Tired
as I was, I sallied forth, again telling the little Cerebus ence over his butchers, bakers, and landlords.
that I hoped he knew how to behave. These people are When you find people inclined to treat you with re- proud of being thought capable of appreciating gentle. spect, never check it from modesty, but rather increase manly behaviour. I find this is the weakness of all it by a quiet unassuming air of conscious worth. sheriff's officers. I went to my creditor, a miserable He seems to have been at the lowest point, knew my wife was near her confinement, and told him
apothecary. I asked him if this was madly, when he both in money, credit, and popularity, when he to come to the attorney with me. He consented, evifell in love and got married. The lady was dently ashamed. Away we went to the attorney, who evidently much too amiable and too yielding
had assured me in the morning nothing of the sort for Haydon.
should happen, as he had not given the writ to an
officer. He now declared the man had exceeded his On the 18th of March 1822 he reviews his instructions, and wrote a letter to him, which I took. position after a fruitless application for money The man declared he had not, and as I was going away to his munificent patron, Sir G. Phillips.
with a release, he said, "I hope, Mr. Haydon, you will “ I left his house,” he says, “ braced to an out.” I rushed to dear Mary, and found my little
give me an order to see your picture when it comes intensity of feeling I have not experienced for sedate man, with his cheeks rosy over my painting. years. I called immediately on some turbu- room fire, quite lost in contemplating Lazarus. He lent creditors, and laid open the hopeless na- congratulated me on getting rid of the matter; assured ture of my situation. Having relieved my when the picture came out I would let him bring luis
me he thought it all a trick of the attorney's ; and hoped mind, I walked furiously home, borne along wife. In the interim some ladies and gentlemen bad by the wings of my own ardent aspirations. I called to see the picture, and he intimated to me he never felt happier, more elevated, more confi- knew how to behave. Dearest Mary, quite overcome dent. I walked in to my dear wife, kissed her, infant, wept on my shoulder, and pressed her cheeks to
with joy at seeing me again, twbed about me like an and then to my picture, which looked awful
my face and lips, as if she grew on my form. My heart and grand. Good God!' I thought, “can beat violently; but, pained as I was, I declare to God the painter of that face tremble ? can he be in no lovers can know the depth of their passion unless difficulty?' It looked like a delusion."
they have such checks and anxieties as these. A diffi
culty conquered, an anxiety subdued, doubles love; Here is one of a hundred similar scenes . and the soul, after a temporary suspension of its feel
ings from an intense occupation of a different sort, MASTER AND PUPIL.
expands with a fulness no language can convey. DearJust as I was beginning the head of Lazarus, I was est love, may I live to conquer these paltry creatures, arrested by Smith the colourman in Piccadilly, with and see thee in comfort and tranquillity! whom I had dealt for fifteen years. The sheriff's officer said, “ I am glad, Mr. Ilaydon, you do not deny your
In the midst of all this he becomes a father. self: Sir Thomas Lawrence makes a point never to be denied." I arranged the affair as rapidly as I could, for no time was to be lost, and wrote to my old land- At night, December 12th-Never to my dying day
MORE GRAPHIC THAN DELICATE.
shall I forget the dull, throttled scream of agony that tears at the mother. He said there were points in the preceded the birth, and the infant's cry that announced picture equal to any thing in the art. “But," said this its completion. Tatham the architect, a worthy man, good old man, "get into better air: you will never rewas in the painting-room; and Mrs. Tatham, who had cover with this eternal anxiety before you. Jlave you had fourteen children, was with my dearest Mary. I any resources " “ They are exhausteil."-"Do you had been sitting on the stairs listening to the moaning want money ?” “Indeed I do."-"So do I,” said he: of my dearest love, when all of a sudden a dreadful they have stopped my income from the King; but dreary outcry, as of passionate, dull, and throttled Fauntleroy is now arranging an advance, and if I sucagony, and then a dead silence as if from exhaustion, ceed, my young friend, you sball hear. Don't be cast and then a peaked cry as of a little helpless being who down: such a work must not be allowed to be forfelt the air, and anticipated the anxieties, and bewailed gotten.” This was noble of West. the destiny of inexorable humanity. I rushed into the Such is the lot of high art in England. West, whose ante-chamber. Mrs. Tatham came out and said, “It is Wolfe had immortalized his name and his country, Prea boy." I offered to go in, and was forbidden. I went sident of the Academy, cut off suddenly from his down into the painting-room and burst into tears. means of existence to help to make up 10,0001. &-year This is very characteristic
for the Duke of York-without a guinea-I without a
shilling : Hilton helping me on the one hand, and the THE KEY TO HAYDON'S " DIFFICULTIES."
venerable old President promising to do so on the Dearest Mary and I were so set agog by Richmond,
other if his banker belped him. that I said as we awoke, “ Let us go to Windsor.” She agreed, and away we went with barely money enough,
In the course of that day down came from West 151. but full of spirits. We got there at six, dined at the
I hope this will be read some day throughout Europe. "White Swan,” evidently the remains of an ancient I hope it will shew the great nations, France, Germany, inn, and sallied forth to the Castle, so full of spirits, Russia, Spain, and Italy, how England encourages high that we laughed at an odd-shaped stone, or any thing art-in what condition it leaves its professors, young that would excuse a jest. The "White Swan" became
and old. Whilst I write this I have been eight so full and poisy we went to the “White Hart," a clean
years without a commission from the nobility; and of neat inn, and were in comfort. We went to Eton, and
the thirty-nine years I have been a historical painter, sat and lounged in the shade of its classical play-ground. thirty-two have been without an order of any kind. Our money lasted well; but unfortunately a barber,
Hilton could have told a tale as sad ; West, but for the who shaved me, as he was lathering 80 praised his
King, perhaps worse. At eighty years of age this cele. Windsor soap, that I, victim as I was, took six cakes,
brated old man, who had been taught to rely on his inspent four shillings out of the regular course, and thus
come from the King as long as he lived, had had it, by crippled our resources. The great thing was now, the hatred of Queen Charlotte, taken from him. whether we should pay the inn bill, or pay our fare to
I took a survey of my liabilities, and found myself town, and leave part of the bill to be sent. Mary was
eleven hundred pounds in debt-four hundred pounds for paying the bill and part of the fare, and paying the
to my landlord, forty-nine pounds to “ John O'Groat's," rest when we arrived. We did this, and I was reduced Rupert Street, and so on. As I tottered down the Hayto sixpence when we took our places on the top. Be.
market I leaned on a post and said, "What shall I do fore the coach set off I took out the sixpence as if I had
if it do not sell ?" "Order another canvas," said the 502. in my pocket, and said, “ Porter, here's sixpence voice within, and begin a greater work.” “So I will,” for you;" flinging it so that it rang on the pavement. I inwardly replied, and thenceforth lost all despondence. The porter, unused to such a present for looking after luggage, bowed and thanked me so much, that all the And yet the public did not deceive him, alpassengers saw it ; and, without sixpence in my pocket, though Wordsworth and Miss Mitford fed his got as much respect all the way home as if I had 100b. vanity with foolish verses. We hope Miss And so is this, which closely follows
Mitford has the grace to be ashamedSeptember 30th-Out all day to battle with creditors:
Of those master spirits thou some I conquered, and some held out.
Art one-a greater never wreathed his brow Haydon held West in much contempt as “ With laurels gathered in the field of Fame. skilful sign painter.” Yet he was indebted to Such flatterers, or fun-pokers, have much to the steady old quaker for many a kindness. answer for when they deal with morbid egotists. The Americans are carefully buying up West's The public held no such language. pictures; but it will be a long time before Plymouth will erect a Haydon gallery.
September 5th-Saw elder Reinagle, a nice old fel
low. He remembered Sir Joshua using so much While I was drawing there (the Elgin marbles) West asphaltum that it dropped on the floor. Reinagle came in, and, seeing me, said with surprise, “ Hah, hah, said he thought me infamously used, and wondered I Mr. Haydon, you are admitted, are you? I hope you had not gone mad or died. * Where is your
· Solomon,' and I can keep a secret." That very day after he came Mr. Haydon P” “Hung up in a grocer's shop.” down with large canvases, and without at all entering Where your Jerusalem'?" “In a wareroom in Hol. into the principles of these divine things, hastily made born."--"Where your · Lazarus 'p" "In an upholsterer's compositions from Greek bistory, putting in the The- shop in Mount Street.”—" Where your Macbeth 'p”. seus, the Ilyssus, and others of the figures, and re " In Chancery."-"Your Pharaoh'?" “In an attic, storing defective parts; that is, he did that which he pledged.”—"My God! and your "Crucifixion'!” "In a could do easily, and wbich he did not need to learn hay-loft.”—" And Silenus 'p”. “Sold for half-price.” how to do, and avoided doing that which he could only Such was the conversation, at which the little man do with difficulty, and which he was in great need of “ Shifted bis trumpet, and only took snuff.” learning how to do.
Yet notwithstanding all this Haydon contiWhile I was in this state, the picture (Solomon) be- nued to agitate for Government commissions gan to make a noise. West called, and was affected to for the furtherance of “high art;” and when
THE HAYDON MASTERPIECES.