Mr. Lambton sensibly asked who were to be selected, and who were to judge, the modest man of genius thus journalises HAYDON'S OPINION OF HIMself. I think myself the man, and I would venture to predict that, if the books were open for the public to write the name of the man they think most capable of conducting a great system of art, Haydon would preponderate fifty to one. I can only say, that Dentatus,' in Italy, would have given me employment the rest of my life, and posterity will think so. Haydon's income was, upon the average, about a thousand a year, yet he never could pay his water-rate or his landlord, was always being taken in execution, and was at least once a-week in the City "upon cash matters-cursed cash matters." His sentiments were as fine as those of Joseph Surface, and his prayers were as fervent as those of that gentleman in "Gil Blas," who petitioned importunately that a good rich traveller might be sent into the wood where he kept his ambuscade. When he got cleared of his debts by the Insolvent Court, or by public subscription, or by calling his creditors together, he made multitudes of fine reflections, but never in a single instance a resolve to live for the future within his means. He was always, life through, buying those six quares of Windsor soap. Mr. Dickens is not accustomed to underdraw his characters; but Macauber must be put under a microscope to become a Haydon. This is the style Reader, you see that I always trusted in God. This day I received 751. from Miller the Liverpool merchant, &c. &c. It is evident in every page, that Haydon thought it a faith to be proud of, when he squandered and promised, and sat quietly down "trusting in God" to fill his pockets and pay his debts. It was no doubt in pursuance of this "faith" that he induced his pupils to accept accommodation bills for him. When in the hands of a lawyer, if I wanted time, 'Get another name,' was the reply. As I wished for secrecy, I asked these young men. . . I relied on the honour and enthusiam of my pupils. Of course these bills were not met. Bewick hoisted the enemy's colour at once: not so Lance, Chatfield, Tatham, or the Landseers. Lance's friends advanced 1257., Landseer's father 701., say 501., Chatfield paid up his premium 2107. They all rallied, but too late. What a sad list of importunities pushed beyond all bounds does the following paragraph disclose Mackenzie gave me an order; Lord Carlisle sent me 57.; Stanley refused; Peel declined; the Queen Dowager declined; the Duchess of Kent never replied; the Duke of Devonshire called and gave me a commission. We have passed over Haydon's quarrel with the Academy, his letters in the Examiner, his Reform letters to the Times, and his lectures. Those whom these matters can interest will seek their details in the volumes. We tread silently past the closing scene, where the suicide sits with the pistol and the razor within reach, finishing the twenty-sixth volume of his Journal, and inditing a will "In the name of Jesus Christ!" Let us hope and believe that, at a still later moment than this, He mercy sought, and mercy found, and let us shut the door upon the hapless wretch. We have done with the painter, but not with the memoir writer. In this capacity Haydon may yet be known to posterityother selections from the twenty-six volumes may yet be welcomed-and the author of forgotten pictures may yet rank, if not with Horace Walpole, at least with Reresby, Doddington, and Wraxall. After what we have already written, we fear to enter upon the wide field that remains unreaped; yet a criticism of this work must be very incomplete, if it convey no impression of the autobiographer's power in describing the literary and political notables of his time. HAYDON AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. Mrs Jeffrey ful impudent careless cassock I ever met. and another Scotch lady were with us; and Sidney Smith began playfully to plague them, by affecting to agree with them, giving in to all their little prejudices, sympathizing with all their little grievances, and bantering all their little nonsenses, in a way the most agreeable and amusing. I saw that he was drawing them out for material, for a good story for the evening, and capital materials he had. By this time Jeffrey's coat was off, his chin towelled, his face greased, the plaster ready, and the ladies watching every thing with the most intense interest. Mrs. Jeffrey began to look anxious. The preparations for casting a face are something like those for cutting off a man's head. Not liking to seem too fond before others, she fidgetted in her seat, and at last settled on the sofa, with her smelling-bottle barely visible, grasped tightly in her hand. The plaster was now brought, a spoonful taken up, Jeffrey ordered to keep his mouth close and his nerves firm, and the visitors to be quiet. Sidney Smith was dying with laughter, and kept trying to make Jeffrey laugh, but it would not do. When his face was completely covered, up jumped Sidney, mock heroically, exclaiming, "There's immortality! but God keep me Unfortunately, from such a mode of obtaining it." Jeffrey's nostrils were nearly blocked up, breathing became difficult, his nerve gave way, and the mould was obliged to be jerked off and broken. So much for this attempt at immortality. MOORE AND WORDSWORTH. Met Moore at dinner, and spent a very pleasant three hours. He told his stories with a hit-or-miss air, as if 66 accustomed to people of rapid apprehension. It being 66 Moore is a delightful, gay, voluptuous, refined, natural creature, infinitely more unaffected than Wordsworth, not blunt and uncultivated like Chantrey, or bilious and shivering like Campbell. No affectation, but a true, refined, delicate, frank poet, with sufficient air of the world to prove his fashion, sufficient honesty of manner to shew fashion has not corrupted his native taste, making allowance for prejudices instead of condemning them, by which he seemed to have none himself, never talking of his own works, from intense consciousness that everybody else did; while Wordsworth is always talking of his own productions, from apprehension that they are not enough matter of conversation. Men must not be judged too hardly success or failure will either destroy or better the finest natural parts. Unless one had heard Moore tell the above story of Talleyrand, it would have been impossible to conceive the air of half-suppressed impudence, the delicate, light-horse canter of phrase with which the words floated out of his sparkling Anacreontic mouth. One day Wordsworth, at a large party, leaned forward Davy, do you know at a moment of silence, and said, " the reason I published my White Doe' in quarto?" No," said Davy, slightly blushing at the attention this awakened. "To express my own opinion of it," replied 66 Wordsworth. Once I was walking with Wordsworth in Pall Mall. We ran into Christie's, where there was a very good copy of the "Transfiguration," which he abused through thick and thin. In the corner stood the group of "Cupid and Psyche kissing." After looking some time, he turned round to me with an expression I shall never forget, and said, "The Devils!" malice, candour, cowardice, genius, purity, vice, demo- Is this gratitude for the capital criticism, or LOWE. Saw Sir Hudson Lowe to-day in the streets. Micheli WELLINGTON AND MELBOURNE. Attended Irish Church debate in the Lord's closely, and with great advantage to the picture. There The Duke spoke well, and without hesitation. was a manly honour about his air; and when he read a quotation, to see him deliberately take out his glasses and He enforces put them on was extremely interesting. what he says with a bend of his head, striking his hand He finished, forcibly, and as if convinced, on the papers. and, to my utter astonishment, up started Lord MelHe began in a fury. bourne like an artillery rocket. His language flowed out like fire. He made such palpable hits, that he floored the Duke of Wellington as if he had shot him. But the moment the stimulus was over, his He stammered, hemmed, habitual apathy got a-head. and hawed. But it was the most pictorial exhibition of the night. He waved his white hand with the natural grace of Talma, expanded his broad chest, looked right at his adversary like a handsome lion, and grappled him with the grace of Paris. THE BYRON MANUSCRIPT. Called on Leslie in the morning. Talked of Byron. nuscript; that he was occupied, and lent it about; that Rogers said Moore had scarcely read his (Byron's) mathe women read the worst parts, and told them with exaggeration that Moore got frightened at hearing it abused, and burnt it without ever having read it through. Irving told Leslie he had read a part, and there was exquisite humour, though it could not all have been pub lished. Belgrave Hopner told me that he had read it, and it ought to have been burnt. But it would have been justice to have heard what Byron could say about his marriage, and now my Lady has it all her own way. MADAME DE STAEL AND COLERIDGE. The next day "For a mon Leslie said Coleridge and Madame de Stael met, each furious talkers. Coleridge would talk. she was asked how she liked Coleridge. logue," said she, "excellent; but as to a dialogue-good heavens!" This reminds us of a current anecdote of a After very celebrated living conversationist. an evening at Holland House, Sydney Smith man, CORONATION ANECDOTE. I spent an hour last week with my old friend Sir Thomas Hammond, who amused me as usual. He said he knew the late king sent a messenger to Charles X., and told him, if he insisted on forcing religion down the throats of the people, his government would be overturned. Charles replied that no government could subsist without religion. He told me an anecdote of the late King, which illustrates the 'asides of a coronation. When the bishops were kissing the King and doing homage, and the music was roaring, the Bishop of Oxford (whom they used to call Mother Somebody) approached and kissed the King. The King said, "Thank e, my dear." This is exactly like him. A propos of "asides" we cannot refrain from a couple of anecdotes of our own. Not many years since, we were standing at the door of the House of Lords, when the session was about to be opened by the Queen in person, and the Lord Chancellor of that day advanced, full robed, and in magnificent procession. By his side, but out of the procession, tripped two of his Lordship's nearest relations; and as he walked into the House he whispered into the ear of one of them some remark heard only by the lady. The reply, however, was distinctly audible to every bystander: it "Bah! comme tu es bête." was, Such a man, in such a robe, in such a wig, and with such a mace, in all his pride and pomp of state! and a pretty woman can find it in her little iconoclastic soul to call him bête, and he laughs good-humouredly, and seems to enjoy the epithet! What a conquest of human affections over perriwigs and spangled dresses! The other relates to the same great lawyer and powerful statesman. Many of our readers, perhaps, have witnessed the ceremony of bring ing up bills from the House of Commons to the House of Lords. The Commons advance with a succession of bows, the Lord Chancellor meets them bowing his wig to his knees, the clerks of the House and the Masters in Chancery bow more gravely than mandarins, and as frequently. Upon the occasion to which we now allude, the Times of the morning had announced that the Chancellor's lady had presented him with a daughter, and it was notorious that he would have preferred a male heir. The renowned Billy Holmes represented the Commons, and he brought up a bill to enable some country squire to grant leases of his settled estates. Advancing with the three ceremonial bows, the great "whipper in" presented the bill, saying, in a loud tone, "My Lord, a bill to enable-;" then dropping his voice to a whisper-"you to have only male children." The Lord Chancellor took the bill, bowed with imposing dignity, and replied, "You be d-d.' About five persons heard the "asides;" the rest of the spectators were much edified by the grave ceremonial. But we must hurry on, and turn to Haydon's account of the interviews he obtained with the Reformers of 1832, while he was painting his picture of the "Reform Banquet." Many of these men are still utterly unknown to their contemporaries. Lord Grey has his proper place in men's memories, but Lord Melbourne is entirely unappreciated; Peel is not fully understood; O'Connell is but a burly outline; Lord Althorpe, Coke, and Byng are but names to the present generation; Burdett cannot be judged; Brougham, Lansdowne, and Lord John Russell are still living, acting men, and long, long years we hope will yet elapse before either of them may become subjects of biography. But upon those first named we could write many a page, and cite many an anecdote, were we limitless in the NEW QUARTERLY. Haydon saw and talked with, and bored all these men, and begged or borrowed of most of them. Moreover, he wrote down all he saw. Lord Grey appeared to Haydon to be "a fine, amiable, venerable, vain man." There are several entries that prove his amiability, but none that shew his vanity. Thus, on the 1st of May 1835, we read, "Lord Grey's help to-day has secured me from immediate ruin, and, under the blessing of Providence, I will get through;" but for the vanity we must recur to the painter. Lord Grey had unwittingly brought Haydon into contact with an engraver at Lord Althorpe's house. What had I in common with an engraver, let him be ever so eminent? I was there by Lord Grey's desire, and as his representative, and I ought to have been treated with marked distinction. However, I have a scale Those noblemen who come to me, Those who oblige me to come to them, And those who do not sit at all, shall all be represented according to their respective ami abilities. Very conscientious, and exceedingly "high art" this, and grateful withal! CHARLES FOX IN A DUEL. Mr. Coke came late, and a most delightful sitting he gave me. He is full of reminiscences. He told me a story of Charles Fox. One night, at Brookes', he made some remark on government powder, in allusion to something that happened. Adams considered it a reflection. and sent Fox a challenge. Fox went out and took his station, giving a full front. Fitzgerald said, "You must stand sideways." Fox said, "Why, I am as thick one "Fire" was given. Adams fired: way as the other." Fox did not; and when they said he must, he said, "I'll be d-d if I do: I have no quarrel." They then advanced to shake hands. Fox said, "Adams, you'd have killed me, if it had not been government powder." The ball hit him in the groin, and fell into his breeches. Haydon could not have caught his idea of Lord John Russell's "marked inflexibility of purpose" from Moore-whose very opposite opinion upon this matter we noticed in our last Number. This difference between the estimate HAYDON AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES. He did not say Lord John Russell sat to-day. much. There is a marked inflexibility of purpose about his head. He was pleased with the picture, and thought I ought to place the more prominent characters conspiHe thought, howcuously. Lord Lansdowne differed. ever improperly placed the company were, I ought to be strictly correct as to the first line, since the picture was to be an historical record. I was much gratified by the honour of his visit. THE STATESMAN AND THE ARTIST. November 19th.-Saw Lord Grey, who was sitting When I came to the quietly by the fire reading papers. door Col. Grey was talking to Lord Essex. Lord Essex saw me, and said, "I have nearly persuaded Lord Holland to sit." It would be a pity if such a strenuous advocate of reform should be out. Lord Grey I sent in my name and was admitted. was looking the essence of mildness. He seemed disposed for a chat. In my eagerness to tell him all he wanted to know, I sprung up off my chair, and began to explain, bending my fist to enforce my argument. Lord Grey looked at me with a mild peacefulness of expression, as if regarding a bit of gunpowder he had admitted to disturb his thoughts. Now I should have sat still, and chatted quietly, for that is what he wanted-to be reBut he began to talk to me lieved by gentle talk. about the picture, and touched a sensitive spring. I blazed away, made arrangements for his sitting next week, and took my leave. I came in like a shot, talked like a congreve-rocket, and was off like an arrow, leaving Lord Grey for five minutes not quite sure if it was all a dream. How delightfully he looked by the fire! What a fine subject he would make in his official occupation! THE DUKE OF SUSSEX. March 23d.-Duke of Sussex sat amiably. I never He exceeds all my sitters for saw any thing like it. patience and quiet. There he sat smoking and talking. I felt quite easy, and sketched with more ease than I ever did before. He talked on all subjects. I hit him, and he was pleased. No interruption whatever took place. 25th.-Finished the Duke of Sussex till he comes. There is literally as much difference between a royal person and a mere nobleman as between a nobleman and a mere plebeian. Such is the effect of breeding and habit. LORD PLUNKETT. " 27th.-Lord Plunkett sat very amiably and quietly. He has an arch humour. "When do you sketch O'Connell?" said one of his daughters. "There is one thing,' said Lord Plunkett, "if you could take his head entirely off, you would do great good to society." between the Lord Plunkett said "You have put candles. I'll lay my life he would be thinking of the expense of so much wax." I thought I should have died actually said, as he looked with laughing, because "Why, Sir?" said I. at the candles, "That's bad wax." "Because there is too much snuff; no good wax has any." DANIEL O'CONNELL. February 22d.—A very interesting day. At twelve I went to O'Connell's, and certainly his appearance was But very different from what it is in the House of Commons. It was on the whole hilarious and good-natured. there was a cunning look. He has an eye like a weasel. Light seemed hanging at the bottom, and he looked out with a searching ken, like Brougham something, but not with his depth of insight. A shirt I was first shewn into his private room. hanging by the fire, a hand-glass tied to the window-bolt, papers, hats, brushes, wet towels, and dirty shoes, gave Dear Ireland." After a few moments intimation of " O'Connell rolled in in a morning gown, a loose black handkerchief tied round his neck, God knows how, a wig, and a foraging cap bordered with gold lace. As a specimen of character, he began, "Mr. Haydon, you and I must understand each other about this picture. They "Not at all, Sir." say I must pay for this likeness." This is the only thing of the sort that has happened to He sat down and I sketched him. me. March 1st.-O'Connell has a head of great sentiment and power, but yet cunning. The instant he came in he looked at the picture, and said, "Ah, there's Stanley," with a smile I never yet saw on his countenance; "Melbourne, Graham, Russell; Grey, but too handsome; Althorp, the bitterest enemy of Ireland, but he shall never legislate for her." O'Connell was in great good humour, and I begged him to give me a history of his early life. He did so immediately; explained their first meeting to consider the grievances of Catholics; their being interrupted by a company of soldiers, &c. &c. The poetical way in which he described the crashing of the muskets on the stones at "Order arms" was characteristic. He told me some capital stories. Some great big Irish counsellor said to Curran, "If you go on so I'll put you in my pocket." "By God, if you do," said Curran, you'll have more law in your pocket than ever you had in your head." 66 "Upon my word," I said, "you take up more time in "We can't help it," said the House than you ought." O'Connell. "Don't you think the Irish people barbarous?" said I. O'Connell was shaken, and he tried to explain why they were not, but did not succeed. O'Connell spoke of himself with great candour. He said, "How could the Government expect, after the character and publicity I gained by emancipation, I could relapse into a poor barrister? Human vanity would not permit it.' This last paragraph reads like an invention. The painter could hardly have ventured the impertinence, and O'Connell was quite incapable of the frankness. There are many entries of interviews with That nobleman, so exquiLord Melbourne. sitely sensitive to the ludicrous, seems to have amused himself with the idiosyncracies of Haydon, and to have used him as a study. LORD MELBOURNE. Lord Melbourne (says Mr. Taylor) being now at the head of the administration, Haydon availed himself of his easy had done on his predecessors for twenty years, the duty of good-humour and accessible habits to urge on him, as he providing public employment for artists. But the charming insouciance of Lord Melbourne was worse than the most frigid formality of any of his predecessors. He was always ready to listen when Haydon talked, but as to impressing him with any sense of the importance of the subject! Here is one example, out of many, of these conversations between the pleasant Minister and the passionate painter: 66 66 66 September 24th-Called on Lord Melbourne; was very glad to see him and he me. We had a regular set-to about art. I went on purpose. I said, "For twenty-five years I have been at all the Lords of the Treasury without effect. The first Lord who has courage to establish a system for the public encouragement of high art will be remembered with gratitude by the English people." He said, "2000l. a year." What d'ye want?" Ah," said Lord Melbourne, shaking his head and looking with his arch eyes, "God help the Minister that meddles with art." "Why, my Lord?" "He will get the whole Academy on his back." "I have had them on mine, who am not a minister and a nobleman, and here I am. You say the Government is poor: you voted 10,000. for the Poles, and 20,000l. for the Euphrates." "I was against 10,000l. for the Poles. These things only bring over more refugees," said Lord Melbourne. What about the Euphrates?" Why, my Lord, to try if it be navigable, and all the world knows it is not." Then Lord Melbourne turned round, full of fun, and said, "Drawing is no use; it is an obstruction to genius. Correggio could not draw, Reynolds could not draw." "Ah, my Lord, I see where you have been lately." Then he rubbed his hands, and laughed again. Now, Lord Melbourne," said I, "at the bottom of that love of fun you know you have a mine of solid sense. You know the beautiful letter you wrote me. Do let us have a regular conversation. The art will go out." "Who is there to paint pictures?" said he. "Myself, Hilton, and Etty." Etty! why he paints old said Lord Melbourne. "Well, 66 come on Sunday at eleven." 66 November 9th.-Sent down in the morning to know if Lord Melbourne could see me. He sent me back word he would receive me at one. At one I called, and saw him. The following dialogue ensued:-"" Well, my Lord, have you seen my petition to you?" "I have." "Have you read it?" "Yes." 66 Well, what do you say to it?" He affected to be occupied, and to read a letter. I said, "What answer does your Lordship give? What argument or refutation have you?" Why, we do not mean to have pictures. We mean to have a building with all the simplicity of the ancients." "Well, my Lord, what public building of the ancients will you point out without pictures? I fear, Lord Melbourne, since I first saw you, you are corrupted. You meet Acadamecians at Holland House. I am sure you do." He looked archly at me, and rubbed his hands. "I do. I meet Calcott. He is a good fellow." "Good enough; but an Academician." "Ha, ha," said Lord Melbourne. "Now, my Lord, do be serious." "Well, I am : Calcott says he disapproves of the system of patrons taking up young men to the injury of the old ones; giving them two or three commissions, and letting them die in a workhouse." "But if young men are never to be taken up, how are they to become known? But to return. Look at Guizot. He ordered four great pictures to commemorate the barricades for the Government. Why will not the Government do that here? What is the reason, Lord Melbourne, that no English Minister is aware of the importance of art to the manufactures and wealth of the country? I will tell you, my Lord: you want tutors at the Universities." I was going on, talking eagerly, with my hand up. At that moment the door opened, and in stalked Lord Brougham. He held out his two fingers, and said, "How d'ye do, Mr. Haydon?" While I stood looking staggered, Lord Melbourne glanced at me, and said, wish you good morning." I bowed to both and took my leave. I cannot make out Lord Melbourne, but I fear he is as insincere as the rest. We cannot conclude without an acknowledgment of the manly taste with which the editor has performed his portion of these volumes. We do not, of course, agree with him in his great admiration of the head of Lazarus, but we thoroughly coincide in every thing else he has said; and we especially thank him for having utterly repudiated the office of apologist for the vices, follies, or claims to genius of this Benjamin Haydon. |