which was likewise closed; but the woman who had it in charge had
formerly been a servant of Mr. Spiers, and he so overpersuaded her that
she finally smiled and admitted us. It would truly have been a pity to
miss it; for here, on the basement floor, are the original models of
Chantrey's busts and statues, great and small; and in the rooms above are
a far richer treasure,--a large collection of original drawings by
Raphael and Michael Angelo. These are far better for my purpose than
their finished pictures,--that is to say, they bring me much closer to
the hands that drew them and the minds that imagined them. It is like
looking into their brains, and seeing the first conception before it took
shape outwardly (I have somewhere else said about the same thing of such
sketches). I noticed one of Raphael's drawings, representing the effect
of eloquence; it was a man speaking in the centre of a group, between
whose ears and the orator's mouth connecting lines were drawn. Raphael's
idea must have been to compose his picture in such a way that their
auricular organs should not fail to be in a proper relation with the
eloquent voice; and though this relation would not have been individually
traceable in the finished picture, yet the general effect--that of deep
and entranced attention--would have been produced.
In another room there are some copies of Raphael's cartoons, and some
queer mediaeval pictures, as stiff and ugly as can well be conceived, yet
successful in telling their own story. We looked a little while at
these, and then, thank Heaven! went home and dressed for dinner. I can
write no more to-day. Indeed, what a mockery it is to write at all!
[Here follows the drive to Cumnor Place, Stanton Harcourt, Nuneham
Courtney, Godstowe, etc.,--already published in Our Old Home.--ED.]
September 9th.--The morning after our excursion on the Thames was as
bright and beautiful as many preceding ones had been. After breakfast
S----- and I walked a little about the town, and bought Thomas a Kempis,
in both French and English, for U----. . . . Mr. De la Motte, the
photographer, had breakfasted with us, and Mr. Spiers wished him to take
a photograph of our whole party. So, in the first place, before the rest
were assembled, he made an experimental group of such as were there; and
I did not like my own aspect very much. Afterwards, when we were all
come, he arranged us under a tree in the garden,--Mr. and Mrs. Spiers,
with their eldest son, Mr. and Mrs. Hall and Fanny, Mr. Addison, my wife
and me,--and stained the glass with our figures and faces in the
twinkling of an eye; not S-----'s face, however, for she turned it away,
and left only a portion of her bonnet and dress,--and Mrs. Hall, too,
refused to countenance the proceeding. But all the rest of us were
caught to the life, and I was really a little startled at recognizing
myself so apart from myself, and done so quickly too.
This was the last important incident of our visit to Oxford, except that
Mr. Spiers was again most hospitable at lunch. Never did anybody attend
more faithfully to the comfort of his friends than does this good
gentleman. But he has shown himself most kind in every possible way, and
I shall always feel truly grateful. No better way of showing our sense
of his hospitality, and all the trouble he has taken for us (and our
memory of him), has occurred to us, than to present him with a set of my
Tales and Romances; so, by the next steamer, I shall write to Ticknor and
Fields to send them, elegantly bound, and S----- will emblazon his coat
of arms in each volume. He accompanied us and Mr. and Mrs. Hall to the
railway station, and we left Oxford at two o'clock.
It had been a very pleasant visit, and all the persons whom we met were
kind and agreeable, and disposed to look at one another in a sunny
aspect. I saw a good deal of Mr. Hall. He is a thoroughly genuine man,
of kind heart and true affections, a gentleman of taste and refinement,
and full of humor.