“You would have laughed to-day, could you have stood by and heard
the courteous battle-royal of words which took place between me and
my sitter--the witty, learned, and all accomplished Mr. Macaulay,
M.P. He is fond of taking the other side of the argument, even though
’tis paradoxical. He loves to differ and defend his difference, and
he wields a well polished, logical Toledo, I can tell you! He is too
well read and too intelligent to entertain many of the absurd opinions
respecting our country and its institutions that are so rife in the
English newspaper press: but still I find he loves to bring on a
discussion of some one or other of those puzzling questions that belong
to our side of the water, namely, state-sovereignty, repudiation,
slavery, etc. I congratulate myself upon having met in him one of those
persons of renown for brilliant writing, whose attainments as poet,
scholar, and reviewer, cause him to stand amongst the highest in modern
English literature. Will you believe it? _Noodle_ as I am, and albeit
unused to the controversial mood, I rather flatter myself that ‘this
child’ held his own in the fight! One touch of fence I used (and ’tis a
custom I am generally fond of) was never directly to answer a Socratic
query, but always to evade it, by begging him to state his position
affirmatively. It worked to a charm. However, we had a delightful
sitting of it. Only think! I had double duty to perform--namely,
_fight_ with the _inside_ of his head, and _paint_ the _outside_ of it!”
In his letters from this time to that of his death, which took place in
January, 1846, he constantly expresses the greatest anxiety respecting
his pecuniary affairs. He found some professional employment, but
barely enough to meet his expenses. He died of disease of the heart. He
left a wife and five children. His kindness of heart, his intellectual
attainments, his social accomplishments, his conversational power, his
brilliant imagination, and his technical ability, were eulogized by the
newspapers of all classes throughout the country.
_JERVAS (CHARLES)._
Charles Jervas was born in Ireland, in the year 1675, and studied under
Sir Godfrey Kneller. By the generosity of a friend he was enabled to
visit France and Italy, where he gave himself up to hard study in his
art, and on his return to England his talent was soon recognised, and
he became very popular. The line he chose was portrait painting. He
also discovered considerable ability in literature. He published a
translation of _Don Quixote_; to which translation the celebrated Dr.
Warburton added an appendix on the origin of Romances and of Chivalry.
Jervas also gave instruction in the art of painting to Pope, with whom
he was very intimate, and who has handed him down to posterity in his
works. “Jervas was the last best painter Italy had sent us,” Pope used
to observe. Jervas was also patronized by William and Queen Anne. He
died on 3rd November, 1739.
_SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS._
Burnet relates that when Reynolds’s sister asked him the reason why we
never see any of the portraits of Jervas now, he replied, “Because, my
dear, they are all up in the garret.” Yet, this man rode in his chariot
and four, and received the praises of Pope in verse.
_DR. ARBUTHNOT._
Jervas, who affected to be a free-thinker, was one day talking very
irreverently of the Bible; Dr. Arbuthnot maintained to him that he was
not only a speculative but a practical believer. The painter denied
it: Arbuthnot said he would prove it. “You strictly observe the second
commandment,” said the doctor; “for in your pictures you make not the
likeness of anything that is in the heavens above, or in the earth
beneath, or in the waters under the earth.”
_VANITY._
There is a very amusing anecdote of the painter’s inordinate vanity,
contained in the _Percy Anecdotes_. The artist having succeeded happily
in copying a picture of Titian, he looked first at the copy, and then
at the original, and then with parental complacency exclaimed, “Poor
little Tit! how he would stare!”
_LADY BRIDGEWATER._
Being employed to paint the portrait of Lady Bridgewater, one of the
greatest beauties of the age, he fell desperately in love with her. So
deeply was his imagination smitten with the features of her enchanting
face, that he reproduced them in all his portraits; and many a female
was most agreeably surprised on discovering her unexpected resemblance
to Lady Bridgewater. His love, however, was not so strong as his
vanity, which he more than once displayed, even in the presence of his
mistress. One day when she was sitting to him, he stopped short, and
expatiated on her charms with all the enthusiasm of a lover; “But yet,”
continued he, “I am forced to acknowledge that you have not a handsome
ear.” “Have the goodness,” replied the lady, “to show me what you call
a handsome ear.” “Here is one,” said Jervas, shoving aside his wig, and
showing his own.
_THE PAINTER’S GENEROSITY._
Jervas one day entered the shop of Carter, the statuary, in May
Fair, and inspected a collection of models, etc. Carter was very
industriously employed at the lowest branches of his profession, such
as chiselling tombstones, grave-slabs, etc. After remaining a short
time, Jervas commended his industry, and took his leave, apparently
much pleased with the models, etc. A few days after Jervas called
again, and after a few general observations, asked whether Carter
was married, and whether he had any children. Being answered in the
affirmative to both questions, he said bluntly, “Do you want any
money, Mr. Carter?” “Want money? Lord love me! yes, I believe I do.”
“Would a hundred pounds be of service to you?” “A hundred pounds! Why
it would be the making of me for ever.” Jervas thereupon requested
him to breakfast with him at his house the following morning. At the
hour appointed Jervas received him with much politeness, and while at
breakfast said, “Mr. Carter, I have for some time observed you as a
young man of considerable talents and unremitting industry, and I am
happy that Providence has put it into my power to assist your efforts.
Here is the hundred pounds you seemed to think would be of service to
you.”
_HINTS TO POPE ON PAINTING._
There is an anecdote of Pope wishing to study painting, and applying
to his friend Jervas for instruction in the art. Jervas readily
consented, and having to leave town for a few days, gave the key of
his painting-room to the poet, promising on his return to give his
candid opinion on what Pope had done, and also suggest to him hints.
On Jervas’s return, after making many general remarks on the Art, Pope
interrupted him: “You tell me what I ought to do, but you have not
given me your opinion of my picture. I know it’s very bad, and it gets
worse and worse every day. I am sure it looked a deal better three or
four days ago. Tell me the reason of this, and why the paint peels
off in some places.” Jervas replied--“Colours change in drying; they
get duller; some more, some less. Greens fade a great deal. Asphaltum
gets much darker and heavier. Of the rest we should make allowance for
these changes; so that the picture should not seem right when first
painted, but should sink, fade, or dry to the hues required. The reason
it peels off is, you have painted a coat of colour over an under one
before it has dried and hardened, and the force of your brush thus
rubbed it off. You should go over your colours as little as possible.
A painter ought to study the natures of colours--have some knowledge
of chemistry--should know what colours are transparent, and how much
so--what are opaque, and what dry soon, such as umber; and what won’t,
such as lake, brown-pink, etc. These last should be mixed with drying
oil. All colours made from vegetables, such as lake and brown-pink,
are apt to fly: all from metals, such as white lead and verdigris,
are apt to change: but all earths, such as ochre, amber, etc., stand
well. Clean your palette, when done with, with spirits of turpentine;
also your brushes: and try to paint without dirtying yourself with the
colours. The knowledge of and attention to a number of trifles, such
as these, contributed to give Titian, Rubens, and Rembrandt, so much
advantage over those who do not study such things.”
[Illustration]
_KNELLER (SIR GODFREY)._
Sir Godfrey Kneller was born at Lubeck about 1648. He was intended for
the army; but his genius for painting being discovered, he was placed
under Bol, at Amsterdam, after which he received instructions from
Rembrandt. In 1672 he went to Italy; and while at Venice, painted
the portraits of some families of distinction. From thence he came to
England by the way of Hamburgh, and was employed to paint a portrait of
Charles II., at the same time with Lely, who candidly bestowed praise
upon his performance. This success fixed Kneller at the English court,
where he painted seven sovereigns; besides three foreign ones. His
principal patron was William III., who conferred on him the honour of
knighthood, and engaged him to paint the Hampton Court beauties. His
pencil was also employed on several of the pictures of the admirals in
that palace, and the Kit-Cat Club. George I. created him a baronet.
He was a man of wit, but excessively vain, as appeared in his gift of
five hundred pounds to Pope, to write an extravagant epitaph for his
monument in Westminster Abbey. He died very rich in 1723.--_Walpole’s
Anecdotes._
_ROYAL PATRONAGE._
The ten sovereigns whom Kneller painted were the following: Charles
II., James II., and his queen, William and Mary, Anne, George I., Louis
XIV., the Czar Peter the Great, and the Emperor Charles VI.
_DR. RADCLIFFE._
Sir Godfrey, when living next door to the famous Dr. Radcliffe, granted
him permission to make a door into the painter’s garden, where there
was a beautiful variety of flowers. But the physician’s servants taking
unbecoming liberties on Kneller’s premises, he had to complain to their
master. After many fruitless remonstrances Sir Godfrey sent his man one
day to let the physician know that he should be obliged to brick up the
passage; to which the cynic replied, with his accustomed asperity, “Let
him do what he will with the door, except painting it.” The servant
was at first unwilling to communicate the exact answer, but Kneller
insisted on knowing it, and retorted, “Did my good friend say so? Then
you go back and tell him that I will take anything from him but his
physic.”
_ORIGIN OF THE KIT-CAT CLUB._
This club is said to have been founded by Jacob Tonson, the bookseller.
However this may have been, he was certainly their secretary. He was
an active man at all their meetings, and as a testimony of the good
disposition of his illustrious friends towards him, they each presented
him with their portraits. These were painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller.
The club is reported to have derived its title from the name of the
person at whose house the meetings were first held. This was one
Christopher Cat, an obscure pastry-cook, who lived originally in Shire
Lane, Temple Bar, but subsequently at the Fountain Tavern, Strand. The
standing dish at supper was mutton pies: for the manufacture of which
Mr. Cat had acquired considerable reputation. A different etymology
of the club’s name has been assigned by Arbuthnot. In the following
epigram, he seems to refer it to the custom of toasting ladies after
dinner, peculiar to those gentlemen:--
“Whence deathless Kit-Cat took its name,
Few critics can unriddle;
Some say from pastry-cook it came,
And some from cat and fiddle.
From no trim beaux its name it boasts,
Grey statesman or green wits;
But from its pell-mell pack of toasts,
Of old cats and young kits.”
--_Gentleman’s Magazine._
_PORTRAIT PAINTING._
Sir Godfrey, who was principally eminent as a portrait-painter, after
a long discourse upon the various schools of painting, concluded with,
“Painters of history make the dead live, and do not themselves live
till they be dead; I paint the living, and they make me live.”
_CUT AT POPE._
The artist’s consciousness of his own skill was so well known that
it exposed him frequently to the banter and irony of the wits, his
friends. Pope, to pay him off, said to him after looking round a room
full of beauties he had painted, “It’s a pity, Sir Godfrey, that you
had not been consulted at the creation.” The artist threw his eyes
strong upon Pope’s shoulders, and answered, “I should have made some
better things.”
_A COUNTRY SITTER._
A certain country family, whose reason for coming to town was the
intention of having their pictures drawn, and principally that of the
hopeful heir, brought him to the artist. Seeing that a little converse
with the world would soon wear off his awkward rusticity, instead of
drawing him in a green coat with spaniels, or in the more contemptible
livery of a fop playing with a lapdog, the painter gave him a soul
darting with proper spirit through the rusticity of his features. A
gentleman met the mother and sisters coming down stairs the day it was
finished, and found Sir Godfrey in a violent rage above: “Look there,”
said he, pointing to a picture, “there is a fellow! I have put some
sense into him, and none of his family know him.”
_VANDYKE AND KNELLER._
There was a period, observed Sir Joshua Reynolds, when to name Vandyke
in competition with Kneller was to incur human contempt. The character
of the eighteenth century in England resembled that of the seventeenth
in Italy. It was the age of English mediocrity, the reaction of that
powerful burst of national genius that was developed by the civil wars
and the revolution.
_TONSON, THE BOOKSELLER._
Kneller was very covetous, very vain, and a great glutton. Tonson, the
bookseller, got many pictures from him, it is related, by playing these
passions against the other. He would tell the great painter that he
was the greatest master that ever was, and send him every now and then
a haunch of venison and a dozen of claret. “Oh!” said Kneller once to
Vandergucht, “this old Jacob loves me; he is a very good man: you see
he loves me, for he sends me good things, the venison was fat!” Kneller
would say to Cock, the auctioneer, “I love you, Mr. Cock, and I will do
you good; but you must do something for me too, Mr. Cock; one hand can
wash the face, but two hands wash one another.”
[Illustration]
_LAWRENCE (SIR THOMAS), P.R.A._
Thomas Lawrence was born in the city of Bristol, in May, 1769. He
was the youngest of a family of sixteen children, and was remarkable
from his infancy for his winning manners. His father took much pains
in teaching the child passages from the poets, and at five years
old he could repeat any speech in Milton’s _Pandemonium_. The child
was equally clever with his pencil; observing which, a Derbyshire
baronet, struck with the boy’s genius, offered to send him to Rome at
an expense of £1000, but his father replied that “his son’s talents
required no cultivation.” At so young an age of five years his drawings
of eyes were so good as to make Fuseli remark with enthusiasm: “But,
by G--t, he paints eyes better than Titian!” In 1785, young Lawrence
received the Society of Arts Medal with five guineas for the most
successful copy from the old masters, being a crayon drawing of the
“Transfiguration” of Raphael; he also received “the greater silver
palette gilt,” by special vote of the committee. Having become a
student of the Royal Academy at the age of eighteen, he sent in the
year 1787 the extraordinary number of seven pictures; in the following
year he sent six portraits; thirteen in 1789, and twelve pictures in
1790. At the express desire of His Majesty, Lawrence was admitted an
Associate of the Royal Academy, by the suspension of a law against
the admission of an Associate under the age of twenty-four. Although
supported by Sir Joshua Reynolds, his election was much opposed by
several academicians. Shortly before Lawrence’s return in 1820 from
Rome, where he had been engaged on the great work of painting the
Allied Sovereigns, Benjamin West, the President of the Royal Academy,
died full of honours. Lawrence was unanimously chosen to succeed him,
and the King, in approval of the choice, added a superb gold chain
and medal of himself. In addition to the honour of knighthood by the
Prince Regent, and admission to the Academy of St. Luke, in Rome, he
became, in 1817, a member of the American Academy of the Fine Arts. He
was elected by the Academy of Florence, a member of the first class.
The Academy of Venice added their election in 1823; that of Bologna
followed; and Turin in 1826. He was also elected a member of the
Imperial Academy at Vienna, and received the diploma of the Danish
Academy; and finally made a chevalier of the Legion of Honour, in
France. He died on the 7th January, 1830.
_ROYAL FAVOURS._
Lawrence received many valuable presents from foreign princes and
nobles, as marks of admiration of the great painter’s genius: the
following list was made out by his sister,--
“By the King of France (Charles X.), in the autumn of 1825, he was
presented with the Legion of Honour (the medal or jewel of which is in
my son John’s possession); a magnificent French clock, nearly two feet
high; two superb green and gold china jars; and a dessert set of Sèvres
porcelain, which Sir Thomas left to the Royal Academy.
“By the Emperor of Russia, a superb diamond ring, of great value.
“By the King of Prussia, a ring, with His Majesty’s initials, F. R., in
diamonds.
“He likewise received presents from the foreign ministers assembled at
Aix-la-Chapelle, where he painted all of them; from the Archduchess
Charles and Princess Metternich at Vienna; from the Pope, a ring, and
the Colosseum in mosaic, with his Holiness’ arms over the centre of
the frame; from the Cardinal Gonsalvi, besides other presents, a gold
watch, chain, and seals of intaglios, and many beautiful bonbonniere
boxes of valuable stones set in gold, gold snuff-boxes, etc.; a fine
gold snuff-box from Lord Whitworth, many years before.
“From the Dauphin, in 1825, a breakfast-set of porcelain, and a
tea-tray painted with the court of Louis XIV.
“By Canova, at Rome, some magnificent casts, valuable engravings, etc.”
_MISS FANNY KEMBLE._
In a letter to Mr. Angerstein, Lawrence gives his opinion of this
celebrated actress’s successes in the following terms,--
“We have little stirring in town, one novelty excepted, which enlivens
the evenings of this otherwise dull period. Your respect and regard for
Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Kemble will make you glad to know that the genius
and sense of both are recalled to us by the really fine acting of Miss
Fanny Kemble, the daughter of their brother Charles. She is not quite
nineteen, yet has so satisfied the judgment of the warmest patrons and
ablest critics of the stage, that, in its worst season, she has drawn
full houses (and continues to draw them) for upwards of twenty-two
nights, three nights in each week, without intermission, to one of
Shakespere’s finest, but certainly most hackneyed plays, _Romeo and
Juliet_, and the boxes are already taken to Wednesday se’nnight.
“Her face is not regularly handsome, but she has a fine and flexible
brow, with hair and eyes like Mrs. Siddons in her finest time. In
stature she is rather short, but with such admirable courage and
invariable grace of action, that on the stage she appears fully of
woman’s height. Her voice is at once sweet and powerful; and blest with
a clear ‘Kemble’ understanding (for it is peculiar to her family),
she has likewise fine literary talent, having written a tragedy of
great interest, besides lighter pieces of admirable verse. Her manner
in private is characterized by ease, and that modest gravity which I
believe must belong to high tragic genius, and which, in Mrs. Siddons,
was strictly natural to her; though, from being peculiar in the general
gaiety of society, it was often thought assumed.
“I have for many years given up the theatre (not going above once or
twice in the year), but this fine genius has drawn me often to it, and
each time to witness improvement and new beauties. If she is not taken
from the stage, there is probability that she may remain on it a fine
actress for twenty years, and thus have supported the ascendency of one
family in the highest department of the drama for upwards of twenty
years!”
_HOAXING LAWRENCE._
Mr. John Bernard, in his “Retrospections of the Stage,” gives the
following anecdote of Lawrence’s cleverness in sketching likenesses at
the early age of nine years:--
“The young artist collected his materials very quickly, and essayed
my visage the first. In about ten minutes he produced a faithful
delineation in crayon, which for many years I kept as a curiosity. He
next attempted Edwin’s, who, startled at the boy’s ability, resolved
(in his usual way) to perplex him. This he did by changing the form of
his features--raising his brows, compressing his lips, and widening his
mouth. Tom no sooner perceived the change than he started in supreme
wonder, attributing it to a defect in his own vision. The first outline
was accordingly abandoned, and a second commenced. Tom was now more
particular, and watched him narrowly; but Edwin, feature by feature,
and muscle by muscle, so completely ran, what might be called the gamut
of his countenance (as the various compartments of its harmony), that
the boy drew and rubbed it out, till his hand fell by his side, and he
stood silently looking in Edwin’s face, to discover, if possible, its
true expression. Edwin could not long maintain his composure at his
scrutiny, and revealed the hoax with a burst of merriment and mimic
thunder.”
_FUSELI’S ENVY._
In Lawrence’s great picture of “Satan addressing the Fallen Angels,”
Fuseli complained that the figure of Satan was his own--that Lawrence
had copied some one of his designs. The following account of the
matter, however, was given by Lawrence in a conversation with
Cunningham, and seems a sufficient explanation:--
“Fuseli, sir, was the most satirical of human beings; he had also
the greatest genius for art of any man I ever knew. His mind was
so essentially poetic that he was incapable of succeeding in any
ordinary object, That figure of Satan, now before you, occasioned the
only interruption which our friendship of many years’ standing ever
experienced. He was, you know, a great admirer of Milton, from whom
he had many sketches. When he first saw my Satan, he was nettled,
and said, ‘You borrowed the idea from me!--‘In truth, I did take the
idea from you,’ I said; ‘but it was from your person, not from your
paintings. When we were together at Stackpole Court, in Pembrokeshire,
you may remember how you stood on yon high rock which overlooks the bay
of Bristol, and gazed down upon the sea, which rolls so magnificently
below. You were in raptures; and while you were crying “Grand! Grand!
Jesu Christ, how grand! how terrific!” you put yourself in a wild
posture. I thought on the devil looking into the abyss, and took a
slight sketch of you at the moment: here it is. My Satan’s posture now,
was yours then.’”
_HIS PROFESSIONAL PRACTICE._
Allan Cunningham gives the following description of the habits and
practice of the great artist:--
“He rose early, and he worked late; for though no one excelled more
in rapid sketches, he had a true enthusiasm for his art, and would not
dismiss hastily anything for which he was to be paid as a picture. He
detained his sitters often for three hours at a time; had generally
eight or nine of these sittings; and all the while studied their looks
anxiously, and seemed to do nothing without care and consideration.
His constant practice was to begin by making a drawing of the head,
full-size, on canvas, carefully tracing in dimensions and expression.
This took up one day; on the next he began to paint--touching in the
brows, the nose, the eyes, and the mouth, and finally the bounding
line, in succession. Lawrence sometimes, nay often, laid aside the
first drawing of a head, and painted on a copy. This was from his fear
of losing the benefit of first impressions, which in such cases are
often invaluable. It may be added that he stood all the while, and was
seldom so absorbed in his undertaking that he did not converse with his
sitter, and feel either seriousness or humour, whilst giving thought
to the brow, or beauty to the cheek. He adhered to the old rule of
receiving half payment at the beginning of a portrait.
“The distinguished person who favoured him with _forty sittings_ for
his head alone, was Sir Walter Scott. The picture was painted for
George IV., and Lawrence was anxious to make the portrait the best of
any painted from so celebrated a character.
“At other times, however, he was as dexterous as any artist. He once
told Burnet that he painted the portrait of Curran in _one day_: he
came in the morning, remained to dinner, and left at dusk; or, as
Lawrence expressed it, quoting his favourite author
‘From morn till noon,
From noon till dewy eve.’
“The following were his progressive prices:--
Three-quarters. Half-length. Whole length.
Guineas. Guineas. Guineas.
1802 30 60 120
1804 35 70 140
1806 50 100 200
1808 80 160 320
1810 100 200 400
“The following were his latest prices:--
“For a head-size, or three-quarters, the great painter received
£210; for a kit-cat, £315; for a half-length, £420; for a bishop,
half-length, £525; and for a full-length, £630; for an extra
full-length, £735.
“Lord Gower paid Lawrence fifteen hundred guineas for his admirable
portrait of his lady and child; and six hundred guineas was the sum
paid by Lord Durham for his portrait of Master Lambton.”
[Illustration]
_LIOTARD (JOHN STEPHEN)._
John Stephen Liotard was born in the year 1702, at Genoa, At first he
studied without instruction, but in 1715 he visited Paris, and became
a pupil of the celebrated Massé. Here he attracted the notice of the
Court painter, Lemoine, who introduced him to the Marquis Puysieux, and
he afterwards accompanied that nobleman to Naples. Here he employed
himself in painting miniatures on ivory. He afterwards visited Rome
and painted portraits of the Pope and the Stuart family. In 1738 he
accompanied Lord Duncannon to Constantinople. During his residence
here he allowed his beard to grow, and adopted the Turkish costume,
which he never afterwards relinquished. In 1742 he was summoned by the
Prince of Moldavia to Jassy, and after a short time there, proceeded
to Vienna, where he was patronized by the Empress Maria Theresa, who
rewarded him richly for his portraits of the imperial family. He again
returned to Paris, and his magnificent beard and oriental dress made
him for a time the lion of that capital, and procured him the bye-name
of “The Turkish Painter.” Among the ladies who entrusted him with
their portraits was the celebrated Madame Pompadour, who was by no
means satisfied with the likeness, Liotard having followed nature so
closely as to reproduce even freckles and other accidental blemishes.
From Paris he repaired to London. The best picture he executed in
England was that of the Princess of Wales and her sons. Perhaps his
most popular painting is that of “The Chocolate Girl,” which is seen
on fire-screens, snuff-boxes, articles of porcelain, etc. In 1756 he
visited Holland, and sacrificed his long-cherished beard on the altar
of Hymen, without, however, laying aside his Turkish dress. In 1772
he returned to England, painting numerous portraits, principally in
crayons. His works in enamel, etc., are very numerous, and are to be
found in the various private and public collections of almost every
country in Europe. He died in the year 1776.
[Illustration]
_LIVERSEEGE (HENRY)._
Henry Liverseege was born at Manchester, in September, 1803. Of
humble parentage, he was indebted to the benevolent care of an uncle
for a liberal education. His career as an artist began with copying
fine paintings of old masters. With the exception of a few visits
to London, he passed the whole of his life in his native town of
Manchester. When in London he received considerable attention from
those to whom his genius was known; among others, from Etty, the R.A.
Heath, appreciating his genius, gave him a commission to paint twelve
subjects for the “Book of Beauty,” which, however, he did not live
to commence. His paintings, which appeared at the Society of British
Artists in London, attracted general approval and admiration; but in
January 1832, before the completion of his twenty-ninth year, this
promising artist breathed his last.
_A DEAR MODEL._
“Henry Liverseege had the soul and sense to take nature for his
everlasting model; when he originated, he originated out of the heart
of life; when he illustrated, he made life sit for his illustrations.
In his paintings from Shakspeare, Scott, Gay, and Butler, and more
especially in the more difficult of them, he always procured living
models. Take, for instance, the two subjects of ‘Christopher Sly
and the Hostess,’ and ‘The Black Dwarf,’ two of his most admirable
paintings: we have it on record that even for these he found life
representatives, and the anecdotes that attach to each picture are
sufficiently amusing. As regards Christopher Sly, it was long before he
could find such a cobbler as he desired. At length he met with a man
he thought would suit; and, having placed him in his studio, set down
a bottle of gin beside him, saying, ‘Drink whenever you please.’ The
spirit of the cobbler, being one of those that must lie in sleep some
time, and become half corrupted before it rises, refused to stir; he
sat sober as a worshipful judge upon the bench. Another bottle of gin
disappeared in the same way as the former, but the son of Crispin sat
steady as ever. ‘Begone!’ exclaimed the painter in a passion; ‘it will
cost me more to make you drunk than the picture will procure me!’
“‘The Black Dwarf,’ it will readily be believed, was a sort of poser
in the way of tumbling upon an original; but notwithstanding the
difficulty of procuring a sitter sufficiently hideous or misshapen,
he at last discovered a miserable dwarf who afterwards sat to him,
and displayed on the completion of his likeness, great wrath and
indignation at what he considered the malicious mode in which his
person was delineated: he would not believe that it was anything like
_him_, and left the room unpaid, in high dudgeon, grumbling hoarsely as
far as he could be heard,--for this fragment of humanity had the voice
of a giant.”
[Illustration]
_LOUTHERBOURG (PHILIP JAMES DE), R.A._
Philip James De Loutherbourg, a distinguished landscape painter, was
born at Strasburg, in the month of October, 1740. His father, who
was a miniature painter, gave him a superior education. He at first
studied with Tischbein, then under Casanova, who, at that time, was
much admired as an historical painter. But Loutherbourg’s peculiar
_forte_ lay in landscape. He obtained considerable reputation at Paris,
and exhibited his works at the Louvre. He was admitted a member of
the French Academy in the year 1768. Having come over to England, he
was, in the year 1771, elected a Royal Academician, and was for some
short time engaged as scene-painter at the Opera House. Soon after his
settling in England, he got up, under the name of the “Eidophusikon,”
a novel and highly interesting exhibition, displaying the changes of
the elements and their phenomena in a calm, by moonlight, at sunset,
and in a storm at sea. This pictorial contrivance anticipated our
present dioramas, although upon a smaller scale. It has been said of
this painter: “His vigorous style of execution, poetical imagination,
and his perfect knowledge of scenic effect, well qualified him for a
department of art which demands them all, and which is held to be a
subordinate one, chiefly because its productions are soon laid aside,
and entirely forgotten.” He died at Hammersmith, March 11th, 1812, in
his seventy-third year.
_GILRAY._
The following is an extract from Holcroft’s Diary:--“Went with
Geiseveiller to see the picture of the ‘Siege of Valenciennes,’ by
Loutherbourg. He went to the scene of action accompanied by Gilray, a
Scotchman, famous among the lovers of caricature; a man of talents,
however, and uncommonly apt at sketching a hasty likeness. One of
the merits of the picture is the portraits it contains, English and
Austrian. The Duke of York is the principal figure, as the supposed
conqueror; and the Austrian general, who actually directed the siege,
is placed in a group, where, far from attracting attention, he is but
just seen. The picture has great merit; the difference of costume,
English and Austrian, Italian, etc., is picturesque. The horse drawing
a cart in the foreground has that faulty affected energy of the French
school, which too often disgraces the works of Loutherbourg. Another
picture by the same artist, as a companion to this, is the ‘Victory of
Lord Howe on the 1st of June.’ Both were painted at the expense of
Mechel, printseller at Basle, and of V. and R. Green, purposely for
prints to be engraved from them. For the pictures they paid £500 each,
besides the expenses of Gilray’s journeys to Valenciennes, Portsmouth,
etc.”
_LOUTHERBOURG’S ECCENTRICITY._
One day, when he was painting, he observed his footman driving a poor,
half-starved cat out of the area. He immediately called out, “John,
bring the cat back.” “He was stealing a piece of meat, sir.” “Then he
is hungry, and you must feed him.” “Sir, he has got the mange.” “Then
the animal has a double claim on our commiseration. Bring him back, and
you must feed and cure him too; and when he is cured, let me see him. I
have an excellent receipt to cure that complaint.”
_ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING._
On another occasion, he was painting a snake pursuing a traveller, and
could not please himself in regard to the attitude. He rang the bell
for John, and, on his appearance, immediately caught him by the collar.
The footman started back. “Your attitude is excellent,” cried his
master. “That is all I wanted.”
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_OPIE (JOHN), R.A._
John Opie, born May, 1761, was a native of Truro, in Cornwall, where
his father resided in an obscure situation. Dr. Wolcot took a fancy to
the boy, and finding he had a turn for painting, the doctor employed
him to paint his own portrait, and recommended others. This employment
enabled Opie to save £30, which he brought to London, and soon became
noticed as a genius of the first order. Success now smiled on his
labours. Through Mrs. Delaney, the young artist was presented to His
Majesty, who bought some pictures of him. In 1786 he was known as an
exhibitor at Somerset House, soon after which he aspired to academical
honours. He accordingly became, first, an Academician Elect, and then
a Royal Academician. When the Royal Institution was formed, it became
necessary that an artist should be found out who could deliver lectures
on the subject of painting, and Opie was accordingly selected for
that purpose. On the appointment of Fuseli to the office of Keeper of
the Academy, Opie was elected without any difficulty to the vacant
Professorship. He was twice married. The first was a most unhappy
union; for the wife, within a few years after marriage, encouraged a
paramour, which led to a separation and a lawsuit. His next match was
formed under more propitious circumstances. He became united to Miss
Alderson, of Norwich, who is said to have possessed a fine taste for
poetry and music. There was no child of either marriage. While enjoying
high reputation in his art, he was suddenly seized with a mortal
disease, and expired April 9, 1807.
_THE AFFECTED SITTER._
When a lady whose portrait he was painting was mustering all her
_smiles_ to look charming, the irritated artist could endure the
constrained and affected features no longer; but starting up, and
throwing down his brush, exclaimed, in his broad style, “I tell ye what
it is, ma’am, if ye grin so I canna draw ye.”
_REYNOLDS (SIR JOSHUA), P.R.A._
Joshua Reynolds was born in July, 1723. His father, the Rev. Samuel
Reynolds, was much esteemed for his urbane and benevolent disposition,
and possessed much keen humour. At the early age of eight years, Joshua
gave promise of that genius which in subsequent life gained him such
eminence, and so well entitled him to be regarded as “the Founder of
the British School of Painting.” It was in 1735, when the young artist
was but eleven years of age, that he painted his first portrait, that
of the Rev. Thomas Smart. This portrait is represented to have been
painted from a drawing taken in church on the artist’s thumbnail. The
celebrated portrait painter, Hudson, had Joshua for his articled pupil,
with whom he received a premium of £120, and who soon displayed signs
of his after excellence in the line of face painting. He started for
Rome in the year 1749. Afterwards he visited Bologna, Genoa, Parma,
Florence, and Venice, returning to and establishing himself in England
in 1752. From this time Reynolds had abundant employment, and his
celebrity advanced in proportion. Although since his return from his
travels, Hudson, the former master of Reynolds, with many others,
expressed the opinion that he did not paint so well as before he left
England, they all candidly confessed within a very short time the
error of their opinion. After enjoying a career of unusual success and
prosperity, this eminent artist, after a long illness, died on the 23rd
of February, 1792, in the 69th year of his age.
_ASTLEY._
John Astley was a fellow-pupil of Reynolds in the school of Hudson.
They were also companions at Rome. Being very poor and proud, Astley
suffered much through his sensitive temperament in trying to conceal
from his companions his narrow circumstances. Being one of a party,
which included Reynolds, on a country excursion, it was agreed through
the heat of the weather to relieve themselves by walking without
their coats. After much persuasion, poor Astley removed his coat with
considerable reluctance, when it was discovered he had made the back
of his waistcoat out of one of his own landscapes; and his coat being
taken off, he displayed a foaming waterfall, which gave much mirth to
his companions, though to the poor artist much pain.
_REYNOLDS ON ART._
Dr. Tucker, Dean of Gloucester, observed in the great artist’s hearing
that a pin-maker was a more useful and valuable member of society
than Raffaelle. “That,” retorted Reynolds, “is an observation of a
very narrow mind,--a mind that is confined to the mere object of
commerce,--that sees with a microscopic eye but a part of the great
machine of the economy of life, and thinks that small part which he
sees to be the whole. Commerce is the means, not the end, of happiness
or pleasure; the end is a rational enjoyment by means of the arts and
sciences.”
_JOHNSON’S PORTRAIT._
In 1775 Reynolds painted that portrait of Dr. Johnson which represents
him as reading and near-sighted. This was very displeasing to Johnson,
who, when he saw it, reproved Sir Joshua for painting him in that
manner and attitude, saying, “It is not friendly to hand down to
posterity the imperfections of any man.” But, on the contrary, Sir
Joshua himself esteemed it a circumstance in nature to be remarked
as characterizing the person represented, and therefore as giving
additional value to the portrait. Of this circumstance, Mrs. Thrale
says, “I observed that he would not be known by posterity for his
defects only, let Sir Joshua do his worst;” and when she adverted to
his own picture painted with the ear trumpet, and done in this year for
Mr. Thrale, she records Johnson to have answered, “He may paint himself
as deaf as he chooses, but I will not be _Blinking Sam_.”
_REYNOLDS’S SUNDAYS._
Sir Joshua was wont to say: “He will never make a painter, who looks
for the Sunday with pleasure, as an idle day;” and his pocket journals
form ample proof that it was his habit to receive sitters on Sundays
as on other days. This much displeased Dr. Johnson; and Boswell says
the doctor made three requests of Sir Joshua a short time before his
death: one was to forgive him £30, which he had borrowed of Sir Joshua;
another was that Sir Joshua would carefully read the Scriptures; and
lastly, that he would abstain from using his pencil in future on the
Sabbath-day.
_DR. JOHNSON._
“At the time when Sir Joshua resided in Newport Street, he, one
afternoon, accompanied by his sister Frances, paid a visit to the
Misses Cotterell, who lived much in the fashionable world. Johnson was
also of the party on this tea visit, and at that time being very poor,
he was, as might be expected, rather shabbily and slovenly apparelled.
The maid-servant by accident attended at the door to let them in, but
did not know Johnson, although he had been a frequent visitor at the
house, he having always been attended by the man-servant. Johnson was
the last of the three that came in, when the servant maid, seeing this
uncouth and dirty figure of a man, and not conceiving he could be one
of the company who came to visit her mistresses, laid hold of his coat
just as he was going upstairs, and pulled him back again, saying, ‘You
fellow, what is your business here? I suppose you intended to rob the
house.’ This most unlucky accident threw poor Johnson into such a fit
of shame and anger, that he roared out like a bull; for he could not
immediately articulate, and was with difficulty at last able to utter,
‘What have I done? What have I done?’ Nor could he recover himself for
the remainder of the evening from this mortifying circumstance.”
_GARRICK’S PLEASANTRY._
David Garrick sat many times to Reynolds for different portraits. At
one of these sittings he gave a very lively account of his having sat
once for his portrait to an indifferent painter, whom he wantonly
teased; for when the artist had worked on the face till he had drawn
it very correctly, as he saw it at the time, Garrick caught an
opportunity, whilst the painter was not looking at him, totally to
change his countenance and expression, when the poor painter patiently
worked on to alter the picture, and make it like what he then saw; and
when Garrick perceived that it was thus altered, he seized another
opportunity, and changed his countenance to a third character, which
when the poor tantalized artist perceived, he in a great rage, threw
down his palette and pencils, saying he believed he was painting from
the devil, and would do no more to the picture.
_DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH._
Reynolds took snuff so freely when painting, as to cause much
inconvenience to some of his distinguished sitters. Northcote relates
that when the artist was painting the large picture at Blenheim, of the
Marlborough family, the duchess ordered a servant to bring a broom and
sweep the snuff from off the carpet; but Reynolds desired the servant
to let the snuff remain until he had finished the painting, observing
that the dust raised by the broom would do more injury to his picture
than the snuff could possibly do to the carpet.
_POPE._
Reynolds, when seventeen years old, saw Pope at an auction room. On the
celebrated writer’s approach, those assembled made way and formed an
avenue for him to pass through, which show of respect Pope acknowledged
by bowing several times. He was about four feet six inches in height,
was very humpbacked, wore a black coat, and had on a little sword. The
artist describes him as having a fine eye, and a long, handsome nose;
his mouth had those peculiar marks which are always found in the mouths
of crooked persons; and the muscles which run across the cheek were so
strongly marked as to appear like small cords.
_MICHAEL ANGELO._
Reynolds had so great admiration for the genius of M. Angelo, that
he never lost an opportunity of doing justice to the great Italian’s
merits. He thus expressed himself in his last discourse he delivered
at the Royal Academy:--“I feel a self-congratulation in knowing myself
capable of such sensations as he intended to excite; I reflect, not
without vanity, that these discourses bear testimony of my admiration
of that truly divine man; and I should desire that the last words which
I should pronounce in this Academy, and from this place, might be the
name of Michael Angelo.”
_REYNOLDS’S STUDY._