“Sir Joshua’s study was octagonal, some twenty feet long, sixteen
broad, and about fifteen feet high. The window was small and square,
and the sill nine feet from the floor. His sitter’s chair moved on
casters, and stood above the floor a foot and a half. He held his
palettes by handles, and the sticks of his brushes were eighteen inches
long. He wrought standing, and with great celerity. He rose early,
breakfasted at nine, entered his study at ten, examined designs or
touched unfinished portraits till eleven brought a sitter, painted till
four, then dressed, and gave the evening to company.”
_DR. JOHNSON’S OPINION OF ARTISTS._
Before Johnson’s intimate acquaintance with Reynolds, he thus writes
to his friend, Baretti;--“They (meaning the artists) please themselves
much with the multitude of spectators, and imagine that the English
school will rise in reputation. This exhibition has filled the heads
of the artists and lovers of art,”--and further on he adds, “surely
life, if it be not long, is tedious, since we are forced to call in
the assistance of _so many trifles_ to rid us of our time,--of that
time which never can return!” When Dr. Johnson became acquainted and
intimate with Reynolds, he was induced to alter the above opinion, and
to highly esteem the virtues and talents of Sir Joshua, as well as to
admire the Art he professed; for on the third exhibition of the works
of modern artists, Johnson wrote an apologetical advertisement for the
catalogue, at which time the artists ventured upon the bold experiment
of charging one shilling admittance each person, which has remained the
customary charge for admission to exhibitions of art to the present
time.
_REYNOLDS’S DISCOURSES._
On one of the evenings when Sir Joshua delivered his discourses at the
Academy, and when the audience was, as usual, numerous, and composed
principally of the learned and great, the Earl of C----, who was
present, came up to him, saying, “Sir Joshua, you read your discourse
in so low a tone, that I could not distinguish one word you said.” To
which the president with a smile replied, “That was to my advantage.”
_GARRICK’S PORTRAITS._
The artist had it long in contemplation to paint a picture of an
extensive composition purposely to display the various powers of
Garrick as an actor. The principal figure in the front was to have been
a full length of Garrick, in his own proper habit, in the action of
speaking a prologue, surrounded by groups of figures representing him
in all the different characters, by personifying which he had gained
some fame on the stage.
This scheme Sir Joshua described to Garrick at the time he was painting
his portrait; and Garrick expressed great pleasure when he heard it,
and seemed to enjoy the idea prodigiously, saying, “That will be the
very thing I desire; the only way that I can indeed be handed down to
posterity.”
_SIR JOSHUA’S GENEROSITY._
“What do you ask for this sketch?” said Sir Joshua to an old picture
dealer, whose portfolio he was looking over. “Twenty guineas, your
honour.” “Twenty pence, I suppose you mean?” “No, sir; it is true I
would have taken twenty pence for it this morning; but if you think
it worth looking at, all the world would think it worth buying.” Sir
Joshua ordered him to send the sketch home, and gave him the twenty
guineas.
_AN EPICURE’S ADVICE._
At a venison feast, Sir Joshua Reynolds addressed his conversation to
one of the company who sat next to him, but to his great surprise could
not get a single word in answer, until at length his silent neighbour,
turning to him, said, “Mr. Reynolds, whenever you are at a venison
feast, I advise you not to speak during dinner-time, as in endeavouring
to answer your questions, I have just swallowed a fine piece of fat,
entire, without tasting its flavour.”
_LORD MANSFIELD._
One day when Lord Mansfield was sitting, Sir Joshua Reynolds asked
him his opinion, if he thought it was a likeness;--when his lordship
replied that it was totally out of his power to judge of its degree
of resemblance, as he had not seen his own face in any looking-glass
during the last thirty years of his life; for his servant always
dressed him and put on his wig, which therefore rendered it quite
unnecessary for him to look at himself in a mirror.
[Illustration]
_ROUBILIAC (LOUIS FRANCIS)._
Louis Francis Roubiliac was born at Lyons, in France, in the year
1695. By long residence in England, and the encouragement afforded
for the development of his talents, he is claimed as forming one of
the sculptors of the English School. His first public employment
was obtained through the recommendation of Sir Edward Walpole. This
was soon after followed by a commission to execute the monument
of John, Duke of Argyle, which when finished, was the largest of
Roubiliac’s works. The merits of this monument caused the sculptor to
be patronized widely, and indeed to be more resorted to than any other
in the profession. After an absence from England on the continent fer
a few years,--where he had been to study some of the great works in
sculpture,--he returned fully sensible of the simplicity and grandeur
of the antique; for on beholding those of his own works, which had been
so highly praised, he is said to have exclaimed, “Tobacco-pipes, by
Jove!” Roubiliac died on the 11th January, 1762.
_GOLDSMITH._
Goldsmith had the habit of boasting that he could play on the German
flute as well as most men; and at other times as well as any man
living; but in truth he understood not the character in which music is
written, and played on that instrument as many others do, merely by
ear. Roubiliac once heard him play, and minding to put a trick upon
him, pretended to be charmed with his performance, as also that he
himself was skilled in the art, and entreated him to repeat the air
that he might write it down. Goldsmith readily consenting, Roubiliac
called for paper and scored thereon a few five-line staves, which
having done, Goldsmith proceeded to play, and Roubiliac to write; but
his writing was only such random notes on the lines and spaces, as any
one might set down who had ever inspected a page of music. When they
had both done, Roubiliac showed the paper to Goldsmith, who looked over
it with seeming great attention, said it was very correct, and that
if he had not seen him do it, he never could have believed his friend
capable of writing music after him.
_ROUBILIAC’S HONESTY._
When a young man in the humble situation of a journeyman to a person
of the name of Carter, Roubiliac had spent an evening at Vauxhall, and
on his return towards home he picked up a pocket-book containing bank
notes to a considerable amount, also some private papers of consequence
to the owner. He immediately advertised the circumstance; a claimant
soon appeared, who was so struck with the honest conduct and genius of
Roubiliac, that he promised to befriend him in future. The owner of the
pocket-book was Sir Edward Walpole; and the only present the honest and
gentlemanly pride of the artist would allow him to receive was a fat
buck annually.
_BERNINI._
On Roubiliac’s return from Rome he paid a visit to Sir Joshua
Reynolds, and expressed himself in raptures on what he had seen on the
continent,--on the exquisite beauty of the works of antiquity,--and
the captivating and luxuriant splendour of Bernini. “It is natural to
suppose,” said he, “that I was infinitely impatient till I had taken a
survey of my own performances in Westminster Abbey; after having seen
such a variety of excellence, and by G--, my own work looked to me
meagre and starved as if made of nothing but tobacco-pipes.”
_LORD SHELBURNE._
Roubiliac being on a visit in Wiltshire, happened to take a walk in a
churchyard on a Sunday morning, near Bowood, just as the congregation
was coming out of church. Meeting with old Lord Shelburne, though
perfect strangers to each other, they entered into conversation, which
ended in an invitation to dinner. When the company were all assembled
at table, Roubiliac discovered a fine antique bust of one of the Roman
empresses which stood over a side-table. Whereupon running up to it
with much enthusiasm, he exclaimed, “What an air! what a pretty mouth!
what _tout ensemble_!” The company began to stare at one another for
some time, and Roubiliac regained his seat; but instead of eating his
dinner, or showing attention to anything about him, he every now and
then burst out in fits of admiration in praise of the bust. The guests
by this time concluding he was mad, began to retire one by one, till
Lord Shelburne was almost left alone, This determined his lordship to
be a little more particular, and he now, for the first time, asked him
his name, “My name!” replied the other, “what, do you not know me then?
my name is Roubiliac.” “I beg your pardon,” said his lordship; “I now
feel that I should have known you.” Then calling on the company who
had retired to the next room, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, you may
come in; this is no absolute madman, this is M. Roubiliac, the greatest
statuary of his day, and only occasionally mad in the admiration of his
art.”
_DR. JOHNSON._
Roubiliac desired of Sir Joshua Reynolds that he would introduce him to
Dr. Johnson, at the time when the doctor lived in Gough Square, Fleet
Street. His object was to prevail on Johnson to write an epitaph for
a monument on which Roubiliac was engaged for Westminster Abbey. Sir
Joshua accordingly introduced him to the doctor, they being strangers
to each other. Johnson received him with much civility, and took them
up into a garret which he considered as his library, in which, besides
his books all covered with dust, there was an old crazy deal table,
and a still worse and older elbow chair, having only three legs. In
this chair Johnson seated himself, after having with considerable
dexterity and evident practice first drawn it up against the wall,
which served to support it on that side on which the leg was deficient.
He then took up his pen and demanded what they wanted him to write. On
this Roubiliac, who was a true Frenchman, began a most bombastic and
ridiculous harangue on what he thought should be the kind of epitaph
most proper for the purpose, all which the doctor was to write down
for him in correct language; when Johnson, who could not suffer any
one to dictate to him, quickly interrupted him in an angry tone of
voice, saying, “Come, come, sir, let us have no more of this bombastic,
ridiculous rhodomontade, but let us know, in simple language, the name,
character, and quality of the person whose epitaph you intend to have
me write.”
_ROUBILIAC’S POETIC EFFUSIONS._
At the Exhibition of Works of Art, opened in May, 1764, the following
appeared in the _St. James’s Chronicle_ from the pen of the sculptor:--
“Prétendu connoisseur qui sur l’antique glose,
Idolatrant le nom sans connoître la chose,
Vrai peste des beaux arts, sans goût, sans équité,
Quittez ce ton pedant, ce méprise affecté
Pour tout ce que le tems n’a pas encore gâté.
“Ne peus-tu pas, en admirant
Les maîtres de Grèce, et ceux de l’Italie,
Rendre justice également
A ceux qu’a nourris ta patrie?
“Vois ce salon, et tu perdras
Cette prévention injuste.
Et bien, étonné, conviendras
Qu’il ne faut pas qu’un Mécénas
Pour revoir le siècle d’Auguste.”
[Illustration]
_RYLAND (WILLIAM WYNNE)._
William Wynne Ryland was born in London in the year 1732. He was placed
at an early age under Ravenet, with whom he made much progress in the
art. At the expiration of his apprenticeship he went over to Paris,
and lived with Boucher between four and five years. On leaving Paris,
he started for Rome, where he studied some time. On his return to
England, where his fame had preceded him, he was welcomed and courted
by all members of his profession. He was soon employed by the favourite
minister, the Earl of Bute, and being introduced to their majesties, he
was honoured by the appointment of Engraver to the King. To extricate
himself from some embarrassments, he committed an extensive forgery
upon the East India Company, for which he was tried and executed in the
year 1783.
_MAGNANIMITY._
It is stated of this artist that while awaiting his trial he so
conciliated the friendship of the governor of Bridewell that he not
only had the liberty of the whole house and garden, but when the other
prisoners were locked up of an evening, the governor used to take
Ryland out with him. His friends concerted a plan by which he was to
take advantage of this indulgence to effect his escape. But when this
was mentioned to the prisoner he seemed much affected at the proposal.
He protested that if he was at that moment to meet his punishment, he
would embrace it with all its terrors rather than betray a confidence
so humanely given. This resolution he adhered to, and ultimately
preferred the risk of death to a breach of friendship.
_SELF-POSSESSION._
On the forgery being discovered, a reward of five hundred pounds was
offered for his apprehension. Large placards mentioning this high
reward, and giving a close description of his person, were posted all
over the town. Ryland had secreted himself at a friend’s house in the
neighbourhood of Wapping. Notwithstanding that the detectives were
all alert, he would venture out after dark. In crossing Little Tower
Hill, a stranger passed him, turned round, followed, and confronted him
with, “You are the very man I want.” Ryland, looking him steadily in
the face, calmly answered, “But you are mistaken in your man;” adding,
“I have not the pleasure of knowing you.” The stranger, who really was
looking for some other person, apologised for his mistake, and resumed
his way.
_RED CHALK ENGRAVINGS._
“Ryland and Picot, a French engraver, who had learned from Demarteau,
in Paris, the mode of stippling in what was termed the red chalk
manner, had brought it over to England about the year 1770. Demarteau,
who was himself an excellent draughtsman, confined his attempts
to the clever chalk drawings and sketches by Boucher and Vanloo,
of whose Academy figures he produced bold, mellow, and unrivalled
imitations. Ryland and Picot made use of the stippling to produce
elaborate prints from finished pictures. Like other easy novelties,
it became immediately the fashion, and for a time gave currency to
the languid elegance of Angelica Kauffman’s designs, who, in return,
extolled the stippling to her courtly patrons. _Dilettanti_ lords and
ladies, the connoisseurs of St. James’s and St. Giles’s, the town
and country, clamoured in admiration of the ‘beautiful red prints.’
They became a favourite decoration everywhere from the palace to the
lodging-house, and a sentimental swarm of sickly designs from incidents
in favourite novels succeeded to the gentle, nerveless groups of
Angelica.”--_European Magazine._
[Illustration]
_TENIERS (DAVID), FATHER AND SON._
David Teniers was born at Antwerp in 1582. He studied under Rubens, and
afterwards at Rome. On his return home he employed himself in painting
small pictures of carousals, fairs, and rural scenes, which he executed
in an admirable manner. He died in 1649. He had two sons, Abraham and
David, who were both artists; the former excelled in the chiaroscuro,
and expression of character. The younger, David, born at Antwerp in
1610, was called “the Ape of Painting,” from his facility in imitating
any style. He was esteemed by several sovereigns, and the King of Spain
erected a gallery on purpose for his pictures. His chief talent lay in
landscape and conversations. He died in 1694.
_DAVID TENIERS THE YOUNGER, AT THE VILLAGE ALE HOUSE._